summary: now that race and (Y/N) are a ~~thing~~, (Y/N)’s “friends” have something to say about it.

word count: 2,934

(Y/F/N) = your “friend’s” name (friend uses female pronouns yeet) (friend is in quotations bc like someone not good)

alexa this is so sad play santa fe

pt. 1  pt. 2  masterlist

It felt like everything was happening so fast. Ever since you had held hands at the movies, you weren’t sure there was a moment where Race wasn’t by your side, his hand glued in yours. However, if you were forced to use your hands for normal human functions, he would always have an arm around your waist or his hand pressed against the small of your back. Not that you were complaining- oh no. You loved every minute of it. The only time you were apart was at lunch, where you still sat with your separate friend groups.

Your friends began to notice after a few days of this. They knew you were going to prom together, but had no idea that you shared an interest in each other, which made sense, because you had been spending more and more time with Race and his amazing friends Spot and Albert, and hadn’t got the chance to talk to yours as much outside of school. You didn’t see a problem with it until one of them pulled you aside in the hallway.

“(Y/N), how have you been?” (Y/F/N) said sweetly.

You smiled. “I’m doing well! Listen, I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other as much lately but I promise we can go get dinner or something soon. I’ve just had a lot of fun with Race and his friends, and-”

“No, I get it.” She said, placing her hair behind her shoulder. “I just…” She hesitated, sighing before resuming. “I’m worried.” Her frown was subtle yet noticeable when she spoke.

“About…?” You asked.

“You.” She paused, tilting her head. “And Race.”

You smiled at the mention of Race’s name. “Wh-I’m confused.” You said, your repressed laughter slowly turning into concern. “Why are you worried about us?”

Her frown slowly disappeared into a neutral expression as she talked as if this was common knowledge. “I just don’t think he’s right for you. He’s loud all the time-which is super annoying-actually, he’s just annoying a lot of the time. He’s not smart, and not to mention, we all know he’s a huge flirt. He could have any girl here at the snap of his fingers, and is that really something you want a relationship with?” She stood, looking at you as if this was just a normal thing people said. Your smile quickly disappeared into a look of shock. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, (Y/N). Someone had to tell you the truth.”

The bell rang, giving (Y/F/N) an excuse to walk away before you could give any form of response.

You knew the things she said weren’t true, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. What shocked you the most were her parting words, “Someone had to tell you the truth.” Were there other people that believed that stuff, too?

Floating through the rest of the day in a distracted and insecure haze, you landed in your bed upset and confused. Your nightly conversation with Race was cut short as you decided to go to bed early.

“Is everything alright? You sound…off.” Race asked with a concerned tone.

You shrugged and then realized that you were on the phone. “Yeah.” You mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now, even though I really don’t believe you.” Race sighed. There was a pause over the phone, neither one of you having the heart to end the call. Race spoke up. “Will you open your window?”

You slid off your bed and trudged over, pulling up the blinds. Race was standing there with his hands in his flannel pajama pants and a concerned look on his face that quickly melted into a smile when he saw you. Your concerns softened and you gently smiled back, too.

“Goodnight.” He said softly.

“Goodnight.” You replied. You reached over to pull the blinds back down.

“I-” Race spoke, and then stopped himself.

“What?” You asked.

“Nevermind. Sweet dreams, (Y/N). See you tomorrow.” He said, walking back over to his bed. You watched him sit down before you lowered the blinds.

“See you then.”

You turned off your bedroom lights and got into the bed, plugging in your phone. Closing your eyes, you tried to sleep, thinking of Race. Keyword: tried. But you couldn’t. (Y/F/N)’s stupid words were still rattling relentlessly in your brain. You picked your phone back up and sent Race a text.

Y/N: can i sit w you at lunch tomorrow?

Race: ofc

Race: why don’t u wanna sit where u usually do?

Y/N: tell you tomorrow

Race: ok

You sat your phone back down, only to hear it buzz again as you closed your eyes. You picked it back up.

Race: be warned the boys may not be on their best behavior…

Race: but are they ever lolol

Race: i’ll talk to them tho
Race: ok. i’ll stop spamming u now

Race: gnight

Race: ♡

Now smiling, you rolled over again, finally falling asleep.

The next day, you walked into the cafeteria, summoning your courage to walk directly past your friends to the other side of the cafeteria where Race was. You hoisted your backpack up higher on your shoulders and kept your eyes fixed on the back of Race’s head as you walked to the other side of the room. You could feel your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past them, but none of them spoke up. Getting closer to the table, Race turned around and smiled, patting the empty space between him and Katherine at the long table.

Setting your bag down, you greeted Race and sat next to him.

“I didn’t know you’d be joining us today, (Y/N)!” Katherine smiled, wrapping her arm around your side and squeezing. You smiled and gave an excited hello.

“(Y/N), these are the fellas.” Race said proudly, gesturing to all of the boys, who either waved or smiled with the occasional finger gun. “Fellas, this is (Y/N).”

“How’d you like to be Ms. Romeo?” The boy, who you assumed was named Romeo, stuck out his hand from across the table, palm facing up. Confused, you laid your hand in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed it, making you laugh.

“Hey, paws off.” Race said, slapping his hand away as Romeo winked.

“The name’s Jack Kelly.” You felt a tap on your shoulder and looked towards it. An older looking boy leaned from behind the other side of Katherine, hand stuck out. You shook it with a smile.

“This here’s Davey.” Race said, gesturing to the boy sitting directly across from you. He gave a gentle smile and a wave.

“And you already know Albert and Spot.” Race concluded, pointing at the two boys, who smiled at you.

The next couple of days you kept this routine, and since your friends didn’t say anything about it, you didn’t either.

“(Y/N), you’re just not acting like yourself. You seem down.” Race spoke into his phone, stretching after his dance class.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to worry about it.” You said, sitting on your bed.

“Listen…if we’re going to be in this…for the long haul…then I’m ready to listen to whatever problems you have.” Race said slowly, nerves forming. His words made you stiffen. Was he for real?

You paused. “Do…do you want to be in this…for the long haul?” Butterflies began to swarm in your stomach.

Another pause. “I mean, I do. But I don’t want to pressure you into anything, I swear.” You could hear shuffling in the background.

“Well…what if I said I do, too?” You could feel the smile growing on your face.

“Wait just a sec.” Race said. Your posture softened, but your smile didn’t. Through the phone, you heard clambering and Race walking around.

“How long is this gonna take?” You said with a laugh.

“Just a second, I swear.”

You heard your doorbell ring, and you laughed again.

“You did not.” You smiled through the phone.

“I told you it would be just a second!”

You ran as fast as you could to the front door, pausing a second to catch your breath before swinging it open. There was Race wearing his shirt from dance and a pair of sweatpants, still holding the phone to his ear. He didn’t even have any shoes on, just his socks. The sun had just set, the porch light giving him a gorgeous glow. His skin was dewy, which may have been from rehearsal or the fact that the air was warm, a sign of spring coming soon.

“(Y/N),” Race said, still talking into the phone, but maintaining eye contact with you. “This may be a little sudden, I don’t know.” You both chuckled a little. “But, will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love nothing more, Race.” You smiled and ended the call. You both stared at each other with what felt like unending happiness. You finally broke the silence with, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Sure.” Race beamed. You held the door open for him, and he held your hand as you both walked to the couch. “So what’s wrong?”

“Losing friends is always hard.” You say. He nods in agreement, pulling you closer to him. You throw your legs across his lap and lean your head on the side of the couch, arms folded in front of you. He puts one arm behind you, holding your waist, and the other on your leg. “(Y/F/N) just said some hurtful things the other day, and I don’t want to be around that kind of mentality, yknow?” Race nodded again.

“What did she say?” He asked. After he saw your frown at his words, though, he spoke up again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I will.” You sighed. “She said we weren’t right for each other. That you were annoying. And flirty. And other stuff that’s untrue. And I don’t even feel like talking to her anymore because I don’t want her to say more stuff.” He rubbed up and down your side.

“I’m sorry to hear that, (Y/N). Is there anything I can do?” Race’s face grew concerned.

“You’ve done enough just by being here, Race.” You smiled.

“Well, you always have me and the boys. We’ll be here for you. And Katherine, too, of course.” Race said proudly. You nodded, eyes feeling heavy. Today had worn you out. “Do you want me to leave? You look tired.”

“No, no.” You said, waking yourself up. “Just put on Netflix or something.” Race obliged, turning on the TV and then The Office. You got through about half an episode before your eyes felt as if there were weights tied to them.

You don’t know how you got there that morning, but your phone’s alarm woke you up in your own bed, still in your pajamas from last night. You rolled over and looked at your phone and saw a text from Race.

Race: sorry for leaving u. i let u sleep on me for a couple hours before i had to go home.  woke u up and helped u walk to your room, but i don’t think u will remember. also, pls tell ur mom thanks for letting me stay so late. ♡

Another day of school, another day closer to prom, and another day of sitting with Race’s friends (now your friends). Walking to the parking lot, you noticed Race turn a corner. Usually, he rode with Spot or Albert, so you weren’t sure why he was walking the opposite way. Your curiosity got the best of you and your eyes followed him. You quickly sat in your car, continuing to watch Race. Suddenly, he stopped on the sidewalk, looking at his phone. That’s when you noticed (Y/F/N) approaching him. …Weird. After a minute of them talking, you felt awkward. You couldn’t read either of their expressions from where you were. You trusted Race, and you could always just text him later.

Pulling out of the parking lot, something felt off. Your gut dropped. Something wasn’t right.

You knew your gut was prophetic when the following day, Race seemed distant. He didn’t talk as much, he wasn’t as smiley, and he didn’t touch you once throughout the day. After he refused to even look at you at lunch, you decided to text him during class.

Y/N: hey, is everything okay?

Race: no

Race: we need to talk

Y/N: ??

Race: meet me in the parking lot after school

For the next two and a half hours, you were a mess. You weren’t able to focus in class, and you couldn’t calm down for the life of you. Finally, the final bell rang, and you quickly walked to the parking lot, scanning for Race.

You found him standing next to your car with his red hood pulled up over his head, looking at his phone. You locked your car, making the horn honk and making Race jump. You giggled as you walked over to him, trying to ease the tension. Race’s face remained unreadable. When he didn’t say anything, you offered to give him a ride home. He simply nodded and sat down in the passenger seat, slumping down after buckling.

The ride was eerily quiet, aside from the soft music playing on the radio. Race scrolled mindlessly through his phone, avoiding any conversation.

You reached Race’s driveway and parked the car, turning to face Race, who finally sat up and took his hoodie down, still not making eye contact with you.

“You said you wanted to talk.” You said gently. “What’s up?”

Race inhaled, eyes fixed straight ahead. “I don’t think we’re going to work out.”

You could feel a hole forming in your chest, heat rushing to your neck and shoulders. “Race, we haven’t even been official for a week, what’s making you say that?”

“I just…I just know.” Race said. He still wasn’t looking at you. You weren’t even sad yet, you were livid. How could he give up on you so quickly? And for what reason? You could feel tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Race. If you’re going to break up with me after not even a week of dating, you could at least look at me when you say it.” Your voice was commanding; it was obvious that you were now angry. Race listened, and his hard expression turned into hurt when he saw your face. You clearly had nothing to lose, so you spoke up again. “I saw you talking to (Y/F/N) yesterday. Is that what this is all about? Why she doesn’t want us together? Why you’re breaking up with me? Are you with her or something?” Race remained silent, mouth slightly agape. The silence was deafening as you felt yourself begin to choke. You had grown so attached in such a short period of time and where had it gotten you? You felt weak…used, almost. And to make matters worse, you still didn’t have an explanation  “Race, please.” A mix between a cough and a sob slipped out as a couple tears fell. “Say something.”

Suddenly, Race lunged at you from across the armrest, his arms wrapping around you. “I’m so sorry.” He said as you began to cry into his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry. I take it all back. I’m so sorry. I thought it would fix everything, but I-I’m sorry.”

“What?” You say in between tears, now even more confused. Race began to run his hand through your hair. Your anger melted away. The confusion remained, but you were so relieved you didn’t care. Race quietly whispered more “I’m sorry”’s while your crying slowed, your face never leaving the crook of his neck, his hands never leaving you, rubbing gentle circles on your back. When you finally collected yourself, you sat back.

“I thought you would rather be with your friends than me. I thought I was in the way. That’s what (Y/F/N) told me. You guys used to be so close but I’m taking you away from them.” Race said, holding your hand as you wiped your face with the other. You shook your head, laughing through the tears.

“They aren’t my friends, Race.”

“They aren’t?”

“No, if they were…they’d be understanding.” you sniffled. “They would be supportive. That’s what real friends do.” You sighed. “I’d rather be with you, a friend who is supportive and understanding and kind, than be with fake friends who aren’t.” Race smiled.

You pulled down the mirror to look at your reflection. “God, I look like a mess, don’t I?” You laughed.

“No, you don’t.” Race said. You turned to face him, smiling. “You look beautiful as always.”

“Thank you, Race.” You said.

Something shifted.

Everything was happening so fast, and the number of feelings you had right then was too much to not act upon.

It seemed that Race had that same idea, his eyes flicking towards your lips before back up at your eyes.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. If you were going to move fast, why stop now. You leaned towards Race, no hesitation.

Your lips connected, and Race immediately got into the kiss, placing his hand on the back of your neck. It was sweet, soft, and mildly uncomfortable leaning over the armrest. It felt perfect.

You decided fast was good.

Taglist:@seriously-ceci@pastel-songs

summary:with prom only a couple of weeks away, you decide to take a chance and ask race on a proper date.

AN:i wrote this at 3am also i’m not dead yeet (y/f/c) = your favorite color

part 1masterlist

In the following week after Race had asked you to prom, you weren’t entirely sure where you and Race stood. You were always texting or calling each other, you sat next to each other during classes, and had almost held hands in the hallway once. Almost. Your feelings for each other were pretty obvious, but neither of you had flat out said it yet. Perhaps you didn’t need to, but still, it would be nice to hear. Prom was only a couple of weeks away, so you decided to shoot your shot during your and Race’s nightly phone call.

“Dance was fun. I think I’ve finally got fouettes down, but they still need some work. My teacher told me the reason I crash into Albert so much is cause I point my toe too hard.” Race said, chuckling. You giggled in response, letting your limbs spread out on your bed. “It sounds fake but I swear it’s a real problem.”

“Well, I’d like to see that sometime.” You said, smiling.

“I bet you would.” You could practically feel Race rolling his eyes through the phone. He twisted back and forth in his rolly chair. “Hey…have you picked out your dress yet? For prom, I mean?”

“Ya.”

“…Can I see it?”

“What’s the fun in that?” You teased.

Race sighed with a smile. “Alright, but I need to at least know what color it is so I can get somethin to match it.”

You sat up on your bed, debating if you should open your window or not and just show it to him. You decided against it but wandered over to your window anyways. “It’s (y/f/c).”

“Any specific shade?” Race questioned, who had moved from his desk chair to his window, which he proceeded to open, hoping you would hear it over the phone and do the same. You didn’t.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll just send a picture. It’s not that big of a deal anyways.”
“No, it’s alright! I don’t mind being surprised! I’d like that, actually…kind of exciting, y’know?”

The thought of Race getting excited about seeing you in a fancy dress was enough to make your face turn red. “Yeah, I know.”

“I just want to make sure my tie matches.” He said. You slid over to your closet and unzipped the dress bag so you could at least send a corner of the dress to him. “By the way, do you prefer a bow tie or no bow tie? Or no tie?”

“Whatever you’d like is fine with me, Race.” You said as you snapped a picture over snapchat and tapped on Race’s name. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a heart emoji next to it.

“Alright.” Race said, still resting by his window. There was a pause as he opened your picture. “Oh, wow…”

You laughed. “What?” A notification that Race had screenshotted the picture appeared at the top of your phone.

“You’re gonna look beautiful in that color.”

Race had been flirting with you like this for months, but now it just felt more special. Like it was more than flirting. It was genuine excitement and happiness. You figured now was as good a time as ever.

“Thank you, Racer.” You said quietly. Before Race had the chance to say anything else, you continued to speak. “Hey…before prom, do you maybe want to go on a date? Like, maybe go see a movie or something?”

“Oh, yeah! That’d be fun! I’d love that!” He said enthusiastically. “Does Friday work?”

“You mean, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Friday? Friday’s-what?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I’m free tomorrow.”

“Awesome! So we can go see…what, the 7:30 show?”

“Sounds good to me!” You said, sitting down on your bed.

“Awesome.” Race said quietly. There was a pause in the conversation as you two smiled on the opposite ends of your phones. “Hey, open your window.”

Slightly confused, you pulled up a stool and pulled up the shutters. “Why?” There was Race, head in one hand, phone in the other, staring out his window.

“Just wanted to see you.”

Running your fingers through your hair one last time, the doorbell rang, and you made a mad dash for your wallet and the front door. “Hi, Race.” You said with a smile.

“Hey, (Y/N). You look pretty, as usual.” Race never failed to flatter you, and tonight was no exception. It was your first real date, and you were both excited. He wore jeans with a gray shirt and a light blue flannel over it. The blue of his flannel with the combination of his blonde hair made his eyes pop, and you were definitely here for it. “Here, I…I got you this.” Race held out a single, yellow, long-stemmed carnation.

“Thank you so much, Race. This is too sweet. Give me just a sec to run and put this in some water. I’ll meet you in the car.” Closing the door gently, you made a mad dash for the kitchen and threw the flower in a water bottle from the fridge. You would give it a better home when you got home. Right now, you had to focus on not screwing tonight up.

Stepping out of the door once more, You walked towards the passenger side of Race’s car. He stepped out and ran around the front, opening your door for you. You knew Race was a gentleman, but this was just too cute. You flashed him a smile while you stepped in, and relaxed into the seat as Race walked around the front of the car once more.

“Here, I trust your music choices.” Race said, handing you the AUX. “Anyone that can jam out that hard to Taylor Swift has a good taste in music.” You both laughed at the memory, though yours was more of an eye roll. You turned on a favorite playlist, hoping that Race would genuinely enjoy your jams. “So, how are you doing?” Race asked as he backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the main road.

“Good, kinda tired from today’s test. How’re you?”

“Honestly?” He started. “Kinda nervous.”

“THE Racetrack Higgins?” You giggled. “Nervous? About what?”

Race glanced over at you before looking back at the road. “This date. Impressing you.” You hid your butterflies with a scoff.

“Well, you don’t have anything to worry about. I should be the one worrying.” What were you even saying?! What kind of conversation was this?! A worry-off?!

“You’re telling me that I have the most beautiful and hilarious girl in the country in my car, on a date with me, and I shouldn’t be worried?” Race argued with a grin. You smiled.

“You think I’m the most beautiful and hilarious girl in the country?”

“Nah, that was a lie.” Race said with a smirk. You playfully hit Race on the arm with a laugh. He glanced back over at you, quickly scanning you up and down before turning back in his seat. “I think you’re the most beautiful and hilarious girl in the world.”

“Aw, well now you’ve made me feel bad for hitting you.” You said with a pout.

“Really?”

“No.”

You sat down in your seats, Race carrying the large bucket of popcorn that he bought for the two of you, and you carrying both of the drinks. The lights dimmed, and the movie started. Everything had gone well for the most part, but you just wished that Race would make a move already.

After about a half hour, you placed your arm on the armrest next to Race, strategically leaving a little room for his arm, too, not moving your eyes from the movie screen. When you felt his arm touch yours, your heart leaped. Slowly, your hand slid closer to his until your pinkie fingers were intertwined. You waited for him to take your hand, but after a few minutes of the slightly awkward position, you realized he probably wouldn’t.

Taking in a deep breath (and silently cursing the armrests for making this more difficult than necessary), you flipped your hand over and placed your now intertwined hands on Race’s thigh. You never took your eyes off of the screen, but you could swear you saw Race glance down at your hands with a smile.

Falling Prey to Cliches ~ Part 7 {R.H}

The next day you find yourself in Jacobi’s with the rest of the Newsies. The atmosphere is gloomy, and you lay your head on your crossed arms.

Jacobi begins prattling on, but you aren’t really listening. You only catch his last sentence.

“Just ask a fish, in the desert.”

As he leaves, you sit up, propping your head up on an elbow. Your face betrays your confusion as Finch sits up.

“Why do old people talk?” He says, frowning in disdain.

Race takes his cigar from his mouth to answer. “To prove they’s still alive.”

You sigh, but can’t find it in yourself to berate him.

“Good morning gentlemen, and Y/N.” Katherine Pulitzer enters the deli, ridiculously chipper. “Well would you get a load of these glum mugs.”

She messes your shoulder as she passes and you sit up.

“Can these really be the same newsies who made front page of the New York Sun?”

You’re the first out of your seat, taking the paper from her and gripping it in your hands. Sure enough, you see the smiling faces of your friends from the day before.

Race’s arms snake around you as he too grabs the paper. You relinquish it into his grasp and hear the excitement in his voice.

“Would ya look it! That’s me!”

The Newsies clamor for the paper, each of them searching for themselves.

“I won’t be last in line for the tub tonight!”

Race’s arm falls casually around your shoulder as you let out of quiet chuckle, happy to see your boys so happy.

“Newsies Stop the World. Now there’s a headline even Elmer could sell.”

Everyone laughs as Race manages to get his hands on the pape again.

You can smell his cigar as he leans in, pointing to the two of you on the front page.

“Jack don’t run from no fight!” Let’s cries indignantly, running and shoving Albert.

“Take it down shortstop, I’m just reportin’ the news.”

You bite your lip and frown. Race squeezes you reassuringly before addressing the Newsies.

“For jumpin’ Jack’s sake can we stow the seriosity long enough to just drink, in, the moment!” He manhandles Albert as he talks, causing the redhead to grimace.

“I’m famous!”

“Yeah, what of it?” Henry looks at Race.

“Well are ya stupid or what?” Race takes his cigar from his mouth and almost glares at Henry.

“Racetrack,” You berate him and he sends you a teasing grin.

“When you’re famous, the world is yer erster!”

You furrow your brow as the Newsies express their confusion.

“Your what?” Henry says, and Race frowns again.

“Ya erster.”

Understanding dawns on you as you bite your lip to keep from smiling. You make your way towards Race as he struggles to explain himself.

“Ya know, ya fancy clam with the pearl inside.”

Jacobi’s fills with noise as the Newsies groan.

“That’s an oyster, Racer.” You put your chin on his shoulder. His cheeks tinge red as he rushes to defend himself. “That’s what I said.”

Every groans again but Henry cuts them off. “How much does being famous pay?”

You take a seat on the edge of a table as Race grabs the paper from Henry.

“No you don’t need money when you’re famous. They gives you whatever you want,” he smirks. “Gratis.” He adds, with a wink towards you. Your cheeks heat and you grins back at him.

“Such as?” You provoke him further and he straightens indignantly.

“A pair of new shoes with matchin’ laces.”

~~~

Race walks down the street with you, his fingers intertwined with yours. You don’t know how the two of you ended up like this, but you’re not protesting.

“Hey, is Jack alright?” Race suddenly asks.

You nod, and then tilt your head. “He’s probably at Medda’s. At least, that’s where I told Davey and Kath to go look for him.”

Race cocks his head and pulls you into the lodging house. The two of you take a seat on a small couch and he looks at you with confusion written all over his face.

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

You shake your head, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes.

“Jack and I don’t go well together when upset. We never have. We both blame ourselves, and with what happened to Crutchie,” you pause and stake a shuddery breath. “It would just make it worse.”

Race grabs your hand and you look up at him. His expression is unreadable, a mix between a smile and sorrow.

“You two are unbelievable.” He whispers. You feel the tears leak out of your eyes and look down again. Race wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his chest.

“What would you have done, huh? If I’d let you go get Crutchie. They woulda got you too, and then where would we be?”

You sniffle and Race rubs his fingers through your hair soothingly.

“At least he wouldn’t be alone.” Your voice is watery and you feel Race sigh.

“Alright. You’s got a point. But you tried to get to ‘im. I held you back. So it’s my fault, not yours.”

You pull back and glare at him. “It’s not your fault, don’t be ridiculous.”

He laughs gently and raises an eyebrow. “Then it cant be yours either.”

You open your mouth to disagree, but can’t find anything to say. Instead, you lean against him again. His arms curl back around you automatically, and you relax into the couch. The two of you fall asleep that way, tears streaked down your face.

~~~

When Davey, Jack, and Katherine return to the lodging house they find the two of you curled up together.

Jack groans in frustration at the sight, eliciting a muffled giggle from Katherine.

“They’re both so dense. I love her, she’s my sister, but god is she stupid.” Jack rubs his eyes and whispers. “Race needs to get it together and tell her.”

Davey grins and claps Jack on the shoulder. “Try telling him that.”

@write-whatyou-know

@the-1992-newsies-is-better

@jordmac

@pinecovewoods

@just-go-and-get-her

@newsienewsie

@thenerdiverse

@the-kool-aid-man-is-real

@im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11

@rhyxn

@skyrun13

@rxcer

@thecaptaingingersnap

@bennie-badeend

@bencookisagod

@eyesinconsellations

@groovynutbucket

@lilcutekittycat

@actually-races-erster

From this point forward this series will be a little more innacurate in terms of dialogue. Whenever I’m unsure about something I check the movie on Netflix, and since its being taken off tomorrow I can do that anymore.

Go to Sleep {R.H}

Requested by: @flaming-gay-trash

Ca I request a newsies imagine. Basically the reader works at a textile factory and steals scraps of fabric, thread and broken needles for when the newsies get injured. After the fight she comes in with a ton of stuff and helps patch them up. Race starts flirting with her and she eventually agrees to a date?

You hurried down the streets of New York, dodging wealthier pedestrians as you clutch at your ratty bag of supplies.

The Newsies of Lower Manhattan has sent someone to find you. After their less than successful strike, many of them were injured.

Luckily for your foolish friends, you’d recently restocked your supplies, sneaking scraps and needles from the textile factory you worked at.

You arrived at the front of the lodging house and were quickly ushered in by one of the younger boys who’d escaped the worst of it. Les, you think his name was.

Once you entered the room with the injured, your brain flipped to autopilot. You barely remembered stitching up the various cuts and tending to their bruises.

None of the boys were injured to badly, just a few split lips and bruised ribs luckily.

Once the last boy is fixed up, the Newsies slowly drift to bed. The main room empties one by one until your the only one left, patching up holes in clothes.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you sew patches onto holes. You fight exhaustion, struggling to finish the last few articles of clothing.

“Y/N? What’re you still doin’ here?” A familiar voice has you looking up, blinking a few times to focus on the figure.

Racetrack stands in a doorway, with bloodied lips and worried eyes.

You ignore his question, setting your temporary project to the side as you stand abruptly. “Race what happened to you?”

He complies as you take his hand and pull him to the couch. “Nothin’, just a couple a bruises. Nothin’ too bad.”

You wet a washcloth in a bucket of water and gently bring it to his face, wiping away the blood near his mouth.

He winces and you frown, muttering a ‘sorry’ for the pain.

You work in silence for a few minutes. When you look up, you find Race staring at you, a small smile on his face.

Your cheeks flush and you look down again, putting away your supplies.

“Ya know you never answered my question earlier.” His voice betrays his grin, and you studiously avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks hear even more. The newsie with a fondness for cigars had also captured your attention. His messy blonde curls and vibrant blue eyes had become frequent flyers in your daydreams.

“I noticed a bunch of the younger boys had holes in their clothes. I figured I could help ‘em out. It’s getting colder, it’s the least I could do.”

It goes quiet after your statement until a small chuckle pierces the air.

“Y/N, you’s somethin’ else.”

You feel gentle fingers on your chin, tilting your head up. Race has a teasing smile on his face, his lips tantalizingly close to yours.

“Yeah?” You breathe, eyes flicking back and forth between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah.” He leans in, capturing your lips between his own.

Your eyes flutter shut and you sigh blissfully, kissing him back.

Kissing Race is everything you ever imagined it to be. His lips are soft, and taste like his cigars.

When he pulls away, you blindly follow, eliciting another light chuckle from his lips.

“Go on a date with me.” He blurts.

You smile and nod immediately. “I’d love to, Race.”

Releived, Race takes a seat next to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You reach for the sewing supplies again, but Race captures your hands in his own.

“Sleep, Y/N.” He says. You open your mouth to protest but he presses a finger against your lips.

You sigh, feigning disappointment, but curl up against him. You and Race fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the city lull you into a stage somewhere between sleep and awake.

Once you’re sure he’s asleep, you gently extricate yourself from his embrace and reach for the mess of clothes and needles.

Just as your fingers graze it, a pair of muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull you back.

“Racer I’m almost done I just-“

He dips his face into the crook of your neck and presses gentle kisses to the skin there, effectively cutting of your protest.

“Unfair.” You whisper, and you feel him smile against your skin before pulling away.

“Go to sleep.” He insists. “Please?”

You feel your resolve melt at the look he gives you then, and sigh wearily. He presses a kiss against your temple and you both recline back into the chair. Within minutes, you’re both asleep.

Falling Prey to Cliches ~ Part 6 {R.H.}

“No one’s comin’, Jack. They’s all waitin’ on the say so from Brooklyn.” Albert leans against the gate behind your brother, scuffing his shoes against the ground.

“Maybe you shoulda let me talk to him, Jackie. We all know I’m his favorite Kelly.” You cross your arms and tilt your head at your brother, who shoots you a quick glare.

The boys start to mutter with dissent, talking about giving up the strike, and you whirl on Jack helplessly.

“Well fearless leader?” You say, holding your hands out. You spot Race past Jack’s shoulder, noticing the doubt in his eyes.

“I ain’t so good with words.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“You don’t say?” You tease, but sigh at the look on Jack’s face. He’s helpless, and you decide to quit messing with him.

“Davey!” Jack grabs at the passing boy’s arm and gestures around to the downcast group of boys. “Do somethin’.” He insists.

Davey looks around, confused, before taking a deep breath.

“Now is the time to seize the day.” He begins.

~~~

You hop down from the stack of papes, grinning wildly. Race rounds up to you as the boys begin chanting around you. “One for all and all for one!”

“You think this is gonna work, Y/N?” He grins as papes fly around you.

You go to answer but stop, surprised by the sudden silence as the chanting stops.

You turn and notice the Delanceys brought reinforcements. Race moves to stand in front of you, and you peer around his shoulder.

Snyder and his army amass across from the Newsies, and you find yourself behind a wall of your friends.

“Newsies, get ‘em!” Jack yells and chaos erupts around you as paper’s are being thrown and people are fighting. Someone shoved you off to the side towards Katherine, and you cling to a pole as you watch nervously. Your eyes flicker back and forth between Jack and Race as Katherine stands near you.

Every so often a Newsie gets thrown at your feet, but within seconds they get back up and run headfirst back into the fight.

You wince as Jack takes a fist to the jaw. Beside you, Katherine jumps, and you know who she’s watching.

Your eyes search for Race in the crowd, but to no avail. You take a step out of your little nook where you’ve been hidden, hoping to catch a glimpse of his blond curls.

“Well well well, what do we have here?”

Shivers race up your spine as someone grabs your arm and pulls you against their chest. You feel Oscar’s breath on your face as he holds your arms.

“If it ain’t Racetrack’s girl.” Morris leers, and you turn your head to the side uncomfortably.

“I ain’t his girl.” You mutter defiantly.

“Oh?” Oscar says, and you here the grin in his voice.

“Maybe you could show us a little fun then?” Morris suggests and you feel disgust coil through you. You spot in his face as he draws closer to yours, successfully getting him to back up.

Morris curses and wipes at his cheek, glaring at you.

Oscar tightens his grip and you yelp suddenly.

“Why you little-“ Morris gets cut off by a fist flying into his jaw.

Oscar pushes you to the side and rushes towards Race, but Jack grabs his collar and hauls him back. You stand up shakily and sit yourself off as the boys continue the fight, until the Delancey’s scuttle off to hurt someone else.

Jack quickly appraised you and gives you a mini speech about staying out of it, and you note the suppressed worry in his eyes before he leaves, hearing Les yelling at someone.

Race takes your arm and leads you off to the side.

“What were you thinkin’, Y/N?” He berates you and you sigh.

“I couldn’t see you, Racer. I was worried.” You cross your arms and huff indignantly.

He places a hand on your upper arm and leans down so your faces are level.

“I’m fine, okay? A little banged up but I’ll be okay. You should see the other guys.” He jokes softly and you nod. “Now, I gotta get back to-“

“They’re slaughtering us!” You hear Romeo yell dramatically. You both turn to look at him in time to see the officer smack him down.

You gasp and Race starts pulling you away. With the Bulls involved, no way the Newsies would get out of this on top. You catch of glimpse of Jack making his way up a fire escape as Race pulls you along, feet pounding the pavement as you run.

“Jack help!”

You freeze and turn around, causing Race to jolt to a stop.

What you see brings tears to your eyes, as the Delancey’s abuse the newsie who deserves it the least. Crutchie’s pitiful cries have you desperately running forward as he cries out for anyone.

To strong arms encircle your waist and pull you back, even as you struggle.

“Crutchie!” You scream, tears falling as he goes limp.

“Y/N, there ain’t nothin’ we can do.” Race whispers as you sob. He pulls you into an alley as Crutchie gets dragged away.

You collapse against him and he strokes your hair softly.

“He called for us, Racer. He needed help and we ran.” You cried and you felt him tense.

“We couldn’ta helped him any. They just woulda gotten us too.” Race whispers as you begin to calm down.

“They’s gonna take him to the refuge. We’ve both been there, Racer. I wouldn’t even wish it on the Delancey’s.”

Race stills at the mention of the refuge and you pull back to gaze at his face.

His eyes are dark, and you know he’s thinking about everything that happened, both in the refuge and in the brawl just now.

“After everything they pulled tonight, I might.” He says, voice low. You grab his hand and lean against him again, staying like that until it gets dark.