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brimbrimbrimbrim · 6 years

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‘Smoke Wooing’ Delsin Rowe/Reader story

Anon asked: so your delsin fic was amazing and hit me right in my shameless thirst (tysm) I thought mayyyybe if u ever needed an idea for a follow up you could totally add some sweetness into the mix and have it be another one of those ice cream dates where del totally asks the reader to be proper full time gf while trying really hard to like,, not sound lame and embarrassing and maybe could burn their initials into a tree w smoke power bc that’s cute af??? anyway your fics are amazing??? ily??

A/N: Thank you for the ask, Anon! I accidentally deleted your actual ask, but luckily I saved it for the AO3 fic. Here you go! I love writing this one. <3

He wasn’t subtle, but if you ever dared call him a rebel he’d say that was just his full-blooded Akomish grandfather guiding him to do what felt right. Delsin would grab your wrists, sway you back and forth in a mock boogie-dance and give you his winning smirk; deep-set eyes making your knees weak. No… no one could call him a wallflower even if he were in a mood to paint literal flowers on walls.

Delsin, of course, did very little without the end goal of garnering attention - tagging Seattle from the east to west and everything in between included - and while that intimidated you at first, it also made his whole aura undeniably attractive.

So, it came as no surprise that when Delsin asked you to be his official girlfriend, it was with the flare of a conduit street artist that’d saved the whole city. Singed fire art branching across four buildings, several maple trees and a whole corner block of the Lantern District. Cop cars lined the street while you were lead up a fire escape blindfolded to see the display and at that point you were far too smitten by him to not say ‘duh’ and ‘kiss me.’

Before that there’d been several return trips to that little ice cream stand on Eighth Avenue, a couple times spent repeating the events of that first time with sometimes more.

You thought he was cute, funny and the perfect mix of rigid immaturity. That lure of light he represented in your safe and albeit lonely life, brought you out of your hovel when you'd normally stay in and listen to music.

Tonight you dump the tunes and oven pizza, follow him with spray paint can in hand, and like so many times before, find yourself laughing behind a musky bandana while committing some minor crimes an hour before mandatory curfew.

Even with nearly six months after D.U.P. left the city, the regulations they put in place are still written in the bylaws, and it’ll take a majority vote in November to abolish it. Depending on which district you're in, the cops are either lax or strict on the ‘no one out past nine’ rule.

It’s a little before eight, and the sun is setting in cotton candy red and pink.

You both wind through the alleyways and cut across a few streets when it’s faster, regardless of foot traffic. The tang of chocolate ice cream and Delsin’s hot, sweet kisses come back like the memory of a wet dream as you both jog between One-Thirtieth Street and Eighth Avenue.

Thornton Creek passes by where Delsin had licked every adhesive layer of melted sweetness off your tits while rubbing you under your shorts until you got off in public just before that couple and their dog entered the park. It was one of the most daring things you’d done up until then… all artistic mischief and outrunning cops excluded… well, except for that one time you’d set fire to your math teachers garden in the burbs. That dude had been an asshole, though.

“Come on, Miss Legs-for-Days. Shake your tail feathers, alright,” Delsin eggs you on with that apple-wood smoke tone of voice and twists around to face you, walking backward so he can hit you with a dashing smirk, “We’re not getting anywhere with you slowing down The Taggers Brigade.”

“Two people with one backpack don’t qualify as a brigade, Banner Man,” you reply with a shitty smile that he can't see behind the black bandana mask you’d tied on before meeting him on the balcony of your apartment.

“Yeah, well… a group of snot-nosed dicks doesn’t qualify as separatists either.”

“Do you see me making excuses for the BTS? No. If anything I’m the one who came up with this plan.” It was fifty-fifty but you drew up the sketches.

“Well, someone’s just a bucket of fun tonight,” he says with a handsome grin.

“Hey, soo...” Delsin pauses long enough for you to walk up beside him before he throws an arm around your shoulders, “... totally hypothetical question: but would a date around Thornton Creek Park or say, The Space Needle, with some smoke acrobatics, get me enough credit to ya know, not be called Banner Man every ten seconds?”

You can read the rest (all 8.7k of it) on AO3 HERE. You can, if you want, tip your writer HERE.

#ask #anon #fanfic #delsin rowe #infamous second son #request #<3

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bioterrorizingarchived · 7 years

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❛ Okay, help me hide these eggs for the kiddos. ❜ xoxo reginald

They both painted them last night, Delsin’s own work ranging from a mess of colours to silly monster faces - he’d contemplated spray painting on them but Reggie was quick to shut that idea down: scolding him with something along the lines of, if you’re going to do that, do that outside. In the end he decided to stay inside, humming under his breath as he carefully painted his eggs, glancing up every now and then to look at Reggie’s own work. ‘Hey what is that, what are you painting? I like that design better than that one’ - Delsin! A smile curves onto his face, a breath of laughter.

` Sooooooo . . . . maybe DON’T put them in places higher than 5 feet? Otherwise, anywhere else is fair game, right? ′ A rhetoric question because there’d be an egg at the edge of where Salmon Bay’s Easter egg Hunt was taking place, a single lone egg befit for an adventurous child who thought outside the box. Or a raccoon.

✮ ` 🐰 EASTER 🐰 // ACCEPTING !

#I Die #glossophobias

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