#spot conlon x y/n

[miryum]

A Roll of the Die (Spot Conlon x Reader)

New York was divided into levels. Levels that made up skyscrapers and classes of wealth. There were the rich people- the top tier of New York City. Then there were the people directly under them, middle class who were their assistants or worked away at the bank or as a maid and butler. There was also the lower class. The people who had two or three jobs, scavenging away for the smallest scrap of money. Maybe seamstresses, factory workers, or newsies. And then there was the lowest of all of New York. The street rats. The homeless. The scabbers. 

Y/n hated the levels of New York. As she was on the bottom, her opinion would make sense. Y/n made a living as a scabber. She worked many small jobs- wherever she could find them. Most of the time, she sold newspapers alongside the newsies. She wasn’t officially a part of the newsie ranks, nor did she ever intend to join them, but it was a somewhat stable job that helped her maintain enough money for her and her family to eat, so in her book, it was a mighty fine job. 

However, Y/n got wind of a strike that was stirring in the newsie ranks. Her scabber friends, Mark and Joseph told her that the newsies were upset at the raise in price and were deciding to do something about it. Apparently, the newsies had stopped Mark and Joseph from buying papes yesterday while Y/n was off sewing clothes with her sister. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Y/n groaned once she heard the news as the trio slowly made their way to the circulation centre. “You let them stop you from buying papes? What about your day's work? And now you’re telling me I should stop getting an honest day’s pay?”

“They’ll beat you up if you don’t.” Mark warned.

“Like they’d beat up a girl.” Y/n chuckled. She hopped down onto the street, a carriage barely missing her. Joseph pulled her back onto the sidewalk.

“I heard that they even got Spot Conlon on board,” Joseph gossiped. 

“That little guy?” Y/n rolled her eyes. “What’s he gonna do to me?”

“You’re not scared of him?” Mark laughed incredulously.

“No.” Y/n shrugged. The three of them got to the gate of the circulation centre and as Mark and Joseph joined the growing ranks of newsies, Y/n nonchalantly stepped up to the counter. 

“Hi Weisel.” Y/n grinned, “200 papes please?”

Weisel raised a brow. “Really? You of all people not joining the strike? Thought you scabbers would wanna change the laws.” He then turned and yelled, “200 papes for the girl!”

“Not so loud!” Y/n hissed, “the newsies can’t know I’m buying.” 

“Looks like they already do.” Weisel smirked and nodded to the crowd around her. 

Y/n sighed and reluctantly turned to face the throng. She was surrounded by angry and expectant newsies. Mark and Joseph looked worried from the back. Weisel slid the pack of papes towards her and gestured for his money. Y/n slammed her coins down and Weisel happily took them. 

“What are you doin’?” The lead newsie asked. It didn’t sound like a question. 

“Buying papes,” Y/n snorted a laugh. “Obviously.” Life on the streets had shown her to act indifferent until the first punch was thrown.

“Haven’t you heard about the strike?” Another newsie with a cigar hanging from his lips asked.

“Yeah.”

“You can’t buy papes,” another said. “We won’t allow it. For the strike to work, no one can sell papes.”

“Yeah, but some of us need to eat,” Y/n pointed out. She took her papers and started out the clump of newsies. They blocked her and Y/n stepped back into the middle of the circle. She squared her shoulders. Y/n didn’t like being surrounded. The odds weren’t in her favour and it made her feel trapped.

“You can’t sell papes!” The first newsie argued. He seemed to be their leader. “We’re in this together. I know you wanna get your money, but just cause we make pennies doesn’t give them the right to rub our noses in it. Are you gonna roll over and let Pulitzer pick your pocket? They need to respect your rights! All we ask for is a square deal. I told your buddies this yesterday, and Imma tell you this today: for the sake of every overworked kid in this whole city, I beg you. Throw down your papers and join the strike.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Real nice speech you got going on there. Worked on my friends.” She jerked a head towards Mark and Joseph. “But… it’s not gonna work on me. I need this. More than any of you. You know nothing of my life and how hard it’s been. I need to get my money. I need to feed my siblings. No one else will feed them except me. And without you lot on the streets, maybe I’ll actually be able to buy some food for myself. Ever think of that?”

Someone pushed through the crowd. A teenage boy stopped in front of her. He was maybe fifteen or sixteen with a cap pulled low over his dirty blond hair. His blue eyes pierced hers. “Listen… goil,” he finally decided on before continuing, “do you know who I am?” 

“No.” Y/n deadpanned. 

“Spot Conlon. King of Brooklyn.” The boy smirked. 

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that?” The newsies all fell silent. No one had ever talked back to Spot Conlon before. 

Spot huffed. “If you weren’t a goil, you’d be on the ground, bleeding after the soaking I gave you.”

“Then do it.” Y/n challenged. “I’ve been beaten up before.”

“Listen,” Spot ignored her comment, “I didn’t come all the way from Brooklyn for this strike just for some scabber to mess it up.” 

“Sorry, Spot Conlon,” Y/n pushed him aside and the newsies gasped. “but I gotta go.” 

“Did you just… push me?” Spot gaped. 

“Yeah. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Leave us,” Spot Conlon waved everyone away. His newsies pushed all the other boroughs away to leave Y/n and him alone. Y/n felt a stir of panic in her chest. What was about to happen? 

“So,” Spot laid an arm around Y/n shoulders. She shrugged him off and replaced him with her papes. “Where do we start?”

“What?”

“I’ve never sold in ‘Hattan before. Where do you sell?” Spot asked. 

“What are you doing?” Y/n squinted at him. “What’s your angle? Your tactic?”

“No tactic, doll, just wanna help you sell.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

 “Where do you sell, doll?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes at his insistence. “Fine. But the first sign that you’re manipulating me, I’m ditching you.” 

“Fine by me.” Spot stayed at her side as she walked to her selling spot, seeming to take it all in. He seemed relaxed, hands in pockets and looking around casually. Y/n’s wariness of the boy hadn’t gone away, but after a while, she felt herself loosen up a bit and step into the newsie role.

Y/n had one of the best days selling. With no other newsies around, people flocked to her to get their hands on the news. Some asked her where the others were and Y/n replied with, “they’re on strike.”

If her customers had been poorer, they would’ve looked on with confusion and disdain, wondering and judging her for not joining her friends to try for a better life. However, her patrons were richer and simply complimented her on staying true to business and even tipped her extra.

At the end of the day, Y/n’s bag was brimming with coins, leaving her smiling proudly. This would certainly provide a couple meals for her family. 

Y/n had expected Spot to try and disway her from selling, but he just found a bench to lounge on, watching her and the passerby’s intently. 

“You’d make a good newsie,” he commented lightly after the day had passed.

“I’ll never be a newsie.” Y/n said hotly, as if taken personal offence. “I’m a scabber.”

“Do you ever do work in Brooklyn?” Spot asked, looking at her as they walked.

“Not usually.” 

Spot hummed. “You should.”

“Why’s that?” This time, it was Y/n’s turn to look at him inquisitively. 

“I’d get to see you more.” Spot smiled softly. A group of young men passed them and Spot instinctively took Y/n’s arm, guiding her carefully past them. Once they were gone, Spot’s demeanour eased up and offered Y/n his arm. Y/n shook her head and pushed him away. 

“This is all a ploy to try and get me to join the strike,” Y/n said dismissively.

“How is me wanting to see you going to get you to join the strike?” Spot chuckled lightly. 

Y/n was silent for a moment before replying, “I don’t know, but I know you’re smart enough that you have an endgame.”

“Aw!” Spot nudged her. “You think I’m smart.”

“Listen, bud.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard plenty of stories about you. I know your true colours. I know not to trust you. I’m not joining the strike and I’m not working in Brooklyn. End of story. Goodbye.” Y/n then turned on her heel and walked up a set of stairs that led to her family’s apartment.

**

A week had passed when Y/n’s sister shared some interesting news with her. “Y/n, can you do me a favour?”

“Anything,” Y/n instantly replied, looking up from her mother- mandated sewing.

“Well, there’s a job opportunity that pays really well that’s been offered to me.” Her sister said hesitantly, a large smile growing over her face.

“Really?!” Y/n set her sewing down. “That’s great! When do you start?”

“Tomorrow. But, there’s a catch,” her sister sat down next to her. “It’s in Brooklyn and I would need you to walk me back and forth.” Y/n’s brows tightened and her sister quickly exclaimed, “But you could come back to ‘Hattan during the day to work and all I need is someone else to walk me so I stay safe! It’s really not that far away. With the pay increase, maybe I could catch a trolley some days? Or you could get a job in Brooklyn too.”

“I’m really happy for you and what this means for the family,” Y/n started, “so yes, I’ll walk you. But how did you get the job?”

“Well, see, that’s the odd part. A kid just came up to me one day and said that he knew someone who was looking for workers. He introduced me to the guy, and here we are!”

“Who was the kid?”

“Um, I think his name was Spot Connon? Or something?”

“Spot Conlon?”

“Yeah! That’s it! Do you know him?” 

“Unfortunately, yes.”

**

It seemed too big of a coincidence for Y/n as she marched next to her sister, walking her to work. And when Spot Conlon was seen selling papes on the next corner over, it felt too bad to be true. After she had ushered her sister inside to her new job, Y/n strode up to Spot and jabbed a finger in his chest, disrupting the few customers around him. “What the hell, Spot?!” She cried.

“Geez, Y/n,” Spot grinned. “Came all the way to Brooklyn just for me?”

“Why’d you get my sister that job? How dare we even talk to her! Stay away from me and my family and stop trying to get me to join the strike!”

“The strike’s over, doll.” Spot chuckled, waving his papes in her face. Y/n stood for a moment, processing his words. “Now, would you like to apologise for storming over here and disturbing my sales?” His words were coy and made her want to slap him.

“Just, come here!” Y/n growled, pulling him away from the customers.

“An impromptu make out session?” Spot teased, “I’m down.”

“Shut it, Conlon.” The girl turned to face him. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.”

“Y/n, I think I’ve made it pretty clear,” Spot’s demeanour changed drastically. “I wanna be your friend. I like being around you. If you didn’t hate me, I might even ask you out. I should be asking you the question of why don’t you like me?”

Y/n bristled, startled by his confession. “Because,” she hesitated, “because you were trying to get me to join the newsies. All my life I’ve had to look out for me and my family. I’ve had to scrape along the bottom of the barrel just to survive. It doesn’t seem fair that instead of working hard and being unhappy and burnt out, you guys earn the same amount of money but you’re happy while doing it. You have friends. You’re loved.”

Spot tilted his head. “Doesn’t your family love you?”

“They’re too busy.” Y/n muttered, shaking her head. “Mom and dad work two jobs each just to pay rent so it falls on me to earn money for food and clothes. It’s not fair.”

“Nothing about life is fair.” 

“Could you offer some sympathy instead of truth?” Y/n asked snarkily.

“Isn’t truth better than wool over your eyes?” Spot retorted easily.

After a moment, Y/n muttered, “how did you become so smart?”

Spot grinned. “I’ve always been smart, doll. You’ve just been too dumb to see it.”

“I have the same street smarts as you,” Y/n said. “It’s not my fault if I don’t have proper schooling.” Y/n’s hands balled into fists and she glared harshly at him. Spot noticed and gently took one of her hands in his. Y/n jumped back, but kept her hand in his. Her jaw tightened and Spot slowly reached up to cup her face, running his thumb over her tense jaw and then moving his hand up to her eyebrows, thumbing the space between them, making her relax.

“You’re right,” Spot whispered. “None of this is your fault. It’s a bad roll of the dice. But we can make the best outta it. We can make friends and family outta it. You can’t spend your life in misery, especially if you have people looking out for you.”

“Are you looking out for me?” Y/n was hesitant in asking her question. 

“I thought I’d made that perfectly clear,” Spot said, cocking his head slightly. “Why else would I seek you out or try and help your family? It’s not everyday I see a pretty girl. I wanna hold onto her while I can.”

Y/n exhaled a laugh, looking away from Spot. He frowned and tilted her chin toward him, forcing her to meet his eye. “Why’re you laughing? Do you think you’re a joke?” He asked, “Do you think I’m joking about you being beautiful?”

“Spot,” Y/n gently pushed his hands away from her face. “I’m a scabber. I know daughters of CEO’s might be a little outta your league, but anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“But I don’t want just anyone,” Spot muttered. “I want you.”

The tension in the air held the words aloft. Did he really mean it? Slowly, waiting for Y/n to stop him, though she never did, Spot stepped closer to her. “Is this okay?”

Y/n nodded. She couldn’t trust her words. Before Spot’s lips could brush hers, Y/n wondered, “are you sure you want to?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, doll.” Spot smirked slightly. And then he kissed her.

[delulu-enough-for-you]

Cocky - Spot Conlon x Reader

Content: flirty fluff!

⚠️ Warnings: female pronouns used, Y/N used, spot being a dick, cursing, not proofread well

Author's note: fine men. thats all. Enjoy!!

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-Y/N's POV-

I had taken the younger newsies to the park and had just returned to see Spot sitting on my bed. I rolled my eyes and walked over to him, my light green dress between my fingers. "Spot!" I said. "What're you doing on my bed?"Just enjoyin' da view," he smirked. I frowned and crossed my arms. "You're still wearing your outdoor clothes. Why would you sit on my nice clean bed wearing them?" He just shrugged and smirked again. "I'on see a problem wit' it.' "Well, I do." I fired back. Spot just groaned and got up from his place on my sheets. "I'll leave, as long as I can sleep 'ere tonight. Mighty fine bed, mighty fine lady." Spot had a shit eating grin on his face. I looked him straight in the eye. "You. Fucking. Wish." I growled, smoothing out the space where he sat previously. He held his hands up in defense. "I'll be back after dinner. Hope the bed bugs don't bite. " He winked and walked out.

_________________________________________

Newsies headcannons, anyone? 🫣

_________________________________________

[companionjones]

The Favor

Pairing: Jack Kelly x Reader

Fandom: Newsies: The Broadway Musical

Requested by: Anon

Request: Jack Kelly x reader where the reader gets roughed up bad by Brooklyn Newsies and doesn’t tell jack who did it but since she’s his number two, they need to go to Brooklyn on business and they run into the Newsies who beat up and she gets nervous and jack gets protective?

Warnings: Cursing, Violence

*******

    Limping your way back to the lodging house, you cringed with every step. You wanted to make it back to your bed unnoticed, but that plan immediately went off the rails as you approached the building.

    It started off with somebody yelling from the window, “Hey, everyone! Y/n’s back!”

    Chatter immediately filled the night, coming from the lodging house, and the door opened for you.

    Racer came out toward you. “Hey, Y/n! It’s been a few hours since anyone saw you, are you--” The words died on his tongue as you came into the light.

    “I’m fine!” you called out to him. “Don’t--”

    “Jack!” Race called over his shoulder. He then looked back into the building to the boys by the door. “Get Jack.”

    You sighed as Racer walked up to you and helped you inside. “You don’t need to get him. I’m fine, seriously.”

    Race scoffed, “Yeah. Tell that to your black eyes.”

    “What the hell is this I’m hearing?” Jack was descending the stairs as you made it inside. He had fire inside him as he locked on your eyes. “Who hurt you?”

    “Jack--” you started in a calm tone.

    His jaw clenched. “Don’t start with that. Who did this to you? Tell me right now, and I’ll--”

    “Take me upstairs,” you told him once he had fully approached you.

    Jack huffed as he looked at you. He glanced around the room out of the corner of his eyes before settling his gaze back on you. He nodded before supporting your weight, just as Race did, and helping you back up the stairs.

    “This is one of the days where I don’t want to live on the roof,” Jack commented as the both of you were worn out from climbing all those stairs.

    “I know what you mean.” You laughed as Jack carefully set you down, but those laughs turned into quiet coughs.

    Jack was still standing as he asked, “Are you gonna tell me who did this to you now?”

    You looked away as your eyes grew glossy and you bit your lip, which hurt because that bit lip was split.

    Seeing you like that caused Jack to take a knee next to you. He put a hand on your shoulder. “Hey...You can tell me.”

    You took a deep breath before answering, “Do you remember, a few weeks ago, we were sitting up here, and I asked you what you were thinking?” You looked at him.

    Jack took a full seat next you and leaned on the same brick wall you were against. “Yeah, I do.”

    You smiled at him. “You wouldn’t tell me. I don’t know why, but you were so desperate for me not to know what was going on in your head that you asked for a favor.” You tilted your head as you looked at him. “...I’m calling in that favor.”

    You saw Jack’s gaze harden and his nose flare. “But...they hurt you, Y/n. You...you can barely stand.” He moved in front of you and put a hand on your knee. “Y/n...I want to kill them.”

    “I know you do,” your voice remained soft. “And that’s why you can’t know.”

    The following month, you spent recovering. The other boys sold your papes for you, and Jack barely let you leave the penthouse, no matter how much you complained.

    Once that month was over; however, you were back on your feet. You and Jack almost got into a physical fight over you going, but you ended up going with Jack over to Brooklyn to meet with Spot Conlon regarding Newsie business.

    “Y/n--?”

    “--Yeah?” You had been peering down an alleyway, but your head snapped toward Jack when you heard your name.

    Jack looked at you like you were acting weird, which you were. “Why are you so nervous? You’re the one who wanted to come with me in the first place.”

    “First of all, I’m not nervous. Shut up. Second of all, I wanted to come with you today because I’ve spent every day for the last month up on the roof twiddling my thumbs. You know that’s not me, Jack.”

    He replied immediately, “I know that’s not you. It also wasn’t you to have to’ve been laid up for the past month with injuries that you won’t even tell me where they came from!”

    Yes, it was true. Jack hadn’t let up on bothering you about the origins of your injuries, and you had yet to open your mouth.

    “Would you hear that, boys? The big bad Jack Kelly wants to know where Y/n L/n’s boo-boo’s came from. Why don’t we let ‘im know?” Three Brooklyn Newsies appeared from the alley across the street from the one you had been peering down.

    They were behind Jack, but when he turned around and saw them, you knew he must’ve had a bad feeling because he immediately started backing up to cover you. “What the hell are you talking about?”

    The leader of the three’s eyes shifted to you. “Y/n, why don’t you tell your boss how we know each other?”

    Jack glanced over his shoulder to see your shaking form that you were trying to distract from with a pissed-off look on your face. He slowly moved his gaze back to your enemies, and Jack asked a one-word quotation, “Why?”

    “Because you’re doing too much, Jack,” the leader clarified in a raised voice, “You think you’re getting all this power when you’re really not. You needed something to remind you of your place.”

    Through a clenched jaw, Jack lowly responded, “You went after Y/n because of me?”

    The leader was close to laughing at Jack. “That is correct.”

    Jack actually growled before jumping forward to go after the three Brooklyn Newsies.

    “Jack, don’t!” You held him back from doing what he wanted to do. “You can’t attack them.”

    “Why the hell not?!” Jack snapped.

    “Because I’m Spot’s second-in-command!” the leader remarked with a devilish look on his face. “Spot didn’t send me to take care of Y/n, but he might as well have! Jack you’re becoming too powerful for your own good, and we all know the one and only King of the Newsies is Spot Conlon. And what do you think Spot’s gonna do if he finds out you roughed up one of his best guys? I can’t imagine it would be far off from what you want to do me right now. And if that happens on both sides?”

    “A war would break out, Jack,” you finished.

    He thought a moment before quietly asking you, “Is that why you wouldn’t tell me who hurt you? Because I would start a war?”

    With tears in your eyes, you nodded.

    Jack then full turned to you and put a hand on the back of your neck. He tilted his head toward yours. “Did you ever consider that you’re worth fighting a war over?”

    That question stopped your heart from beating.

    “Alright, that’s enough with the theatrics.” The leader of the small gang approached you and Jack and put a hand on Jack’s should to get him to turn away from you.

    Jack did so, and he used the momentum from it to punch the leader in the face.

    So, Jack took on that guy, and that left you to fight his two minions. You dodged the first blow from the first guy, then caught the second guys fist and kicked his knees out from under him. You then threw the second guy into the first guy, resulting with both of them on the ground. To make it clear who won, you then leaned down and smashed their heads against each other, knocking them out.

    You were about to turn around to see how Jack was doing, but that was made clear when you were grabbed by the neck and yanked to your feet.

    Suddenly, Jack was looking helpless in front of you while the leader choked you in front of him.

    “Let them go,” Jack spat, “Let Y/n go, or I swear I’ll--”

    “You’ll what?” your attacker teased, “Right now, I’m holding all the cards. I think--Stop-fighting!” He was talking to you.

    You had yet to give up. You used all your strength to pull his arm just a little away from your throat, then you used all that space to get some windup before whacking your head into his nose.

    The boy stumbled back from you before you talked him to the ground and started in on punching his face. You got 9 or 10 blows in before deciding he had had enough. You got to your feet, out of breath. You told him, “I would’ve won the fight in the first place if you hadn’t surprised me.” You spat on him. “Fucking coward.”

    “You sure got that right.” Spot Conlon appeared with a large group of Brooklyn Newsies.

    “Have you been here the whole time?” Jack, who was standing next to you, asked.

    Conlon shook his head. “After these three briefly disappeared from my ranks about a month ago, I’ve sent a couple of my younger recruits to keep an eye on ‘em. They came and reported this to me as soon as the fight broke out.”

    Jack asked, “So, they weren’t working by your orders?”

    Spot scoffed, “No. Not even a little.” He looked down to the rogue leader’s bloody form. “And what the hell is this ‘King of the Newsies’ shit you were spoutin’ Timmy? You know we don’t work like that.”

    Timmy was barely able to speak. “I was trying to make you look good--”

    “Fuck making me look good,” Conlon cursed, “This is making me look shitty.” He looked back up to you and Jack. “Sorry, gotta cancel our meetin’ today so I can take care of these buffoons.”

    “All good,” you immediately responded.

    “Fine by me,” Jack was right behind you.

    The Brooklyn Newsies cleaned up their bodies and cleared out just as fast as they got there.

    Jack hugged you as soon as he could. He then brought you to arm’s length so he could examine you. “Are you okay?”

    “I’m doing just as well as you. Look at that shiner!” you laughed, referring to a bruise that was already forming under one of Jack’s eyes. You then looked into his eyes, and you saw an emotion that you had seen there many times before, but it was an emotion that you could never put a name to.

    Things fell silent between the two of you.

    “Ask me again,” Jack softly asked.

    “What?” you wondered.

    “Ask me again what I was thinking that night.”

    You didn’t have to ask what night he was talking about. “What were you--”

    Jack pulled you forward and kissed you. “...I was thinking the same thing I’m always thinking. I was thinking about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

    “Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

    Jack smiled, “And more,” he told you, then leaned back in.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, you should check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[lovingmusicalmen]

Request:

14. “Stay away from me!”

A mister Antonio Racetrack Higgins x f!reader

She’s new to being a Newsie and she doesn’t know who she can and can’t trust because she has had a rough life in the past which has left her to feel like she can’t trust anyone. So she keeps her guard up but eventually she decides she can trust Race and she lets her guard down around him and only him and maybe show once her guard is down with him but isn’t with the rest so she isn’t chill around them and only Race?

Sorry that is a lot. I really like ur writing tho so yeah!

Awwww this one's such a cute idea - I hope that this fits your idea!! I'm so glad you like my writing!!

Angst 14: "Stay away from me!"

Blurb Requests still open!

"This waistcoat is amazing, Sunny!" Race announced, sliding into the table beside Y/N in Jacobis.

Y/N rolled her eyes and plucked the cigar from his lips. Race shot her a cheeky grin and pulled out another one, which Y/N promptly removed again.

"I told you to stop calling me that," she muttered.

"I thought I was the exception - you made me a new waistcoat and everything," Race joked, finally giving up on trying to light up a cigar and instead leaning back on the chair to prop his feet up on the table.

"Tell any of the others that and I'll chop your balls off - I know where you sleep, Higgins."

"We should warn Spot Conlon that Sunny here's coming for his brand," Jack teased, joining them at the table. Race brightened up, while Y/N tensed, glaring at the newsboy.

"Stop calling me that," she gritted out.

"But you're just such a ray of sunshine," Albert joked as he, too, joined them holding a glass of water.

Y/N clenched her jaw, glaring holes in the table.

"Guys stop it," Race said with a slight laugh.

"But she's just been so open and friendly since she got here - what else could we possibly call her?" Finch said, clapping a hand on Y/N's shoulder.

Y/N gripped onto his hand and threw it off of her, standing up and pushing Finch back, sending him tumbling back a couple of steps.

The Manhattan Newsies fell silent, all eyes watching the exchange. But Y/N didn't have it in her to care, anger boiling in her veins. She stepped forwards again and jabbed Finch in the chest.

"Don't fucking call me that. And stay away from me," she hissed, then addressed the room at large. "All of you."

Y/N turned and stamped out of the restaurant. The moment that the door closed behind her, though, she dropped the stern facade and took off running, ignoring the tears that were blurring her eyes and the angry shouts of other pedestrians as she almost bowled over them in her haste to get as far away as possible.

It wasn't until the Brooklyn Bridge stood in front of her that she stopped, gasping for breath and leaning against the railings. She pulled off her hat - gifted to her the very day she had turned up, prickly and rude to cover her terror - and pressed it to her mouth to try and muffle her sobs.

It was only a couple of moments later that more wheezing breaths met her ears. She forced herself to look over at Race, who was doubled over, two newspaper bags slung over his shoulders.

"Jesus, Sunny - they should call you Racetrack. You run fucking fast," Race gasped out. "Sorry - know you said not to call you that."

"You probably wouldn't be so out of breath if you stopped smoking," Y/N whispered, not acknowledging the name. Because Race had been right in his earlier teasing - he was the exception.

Her friend offered her a smile and flopped onto the ground beside her. He hesitated and then lifted his arm, and Y/N fell into the embrace.

"I'm sorry about them - they've seen you opening up to me, thought it meant they could act the same as I do," Race whispered. Y/N just shrugged, still nestled into the crook of his arm.

"I just don't know how to do it."

"Do what?"

"You know..." Y/N shuddered a little. "Trust them, I guess? How do I know they're not going to... hurt me? Or try and send me back?"

Race's arm tightened around her and Y/N felt him press a kiss to the top of her head.

"You don't," he murmured. "I wish I could stop all the awful shit that happened to you before you found me - found all of us. But I'm glad you got here now," he kissed her hair again. "And we've all got our shit that landed us as Newsies. So all of them get it, even while they're dicks a lot of the time. But you trust me, right?"

Y/N pulled away from him, wiping her eyes. She mustered up a smile.

"Against my better judgement," she joked. Race rolled his eyes and reached over to ruffle her hair.

"So if you can't trust them yet - trust me. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again, Sunny."

Y/N burst out laughing and lent back into Race, nestling her face into his neck.

"Anyone but you calls me that again and I'll bring them here and push them off of the fucking bridge."

[gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me]

Spot Conlon x Reader

HELLO this is my first fix on tumblr it's gonna be a Spot Conlon x Reader. This is from 1992 and it's about the key necklace around spots neck. Tbh I only just noticed the necklace lmao. So I thought why not make my first tumblr fic :) y/n will have female pronouns and feminine features you can change the room s to they/them if you like but y/n will still where a dress sorry.

---------------------------------------------------------

Spot's pov:

I was walking down the streets of brooklyn, on my way to the bakery to visit the Baker's daughter, we met a month ago when I sold her my last pape.

Y/n's pov: (first meeting)

I was in a rush over to the bakery cause I was running late I was, since I was in Manhattan visiting my cousin and I forgot I had a shift today

On my way to the bakery I was stopped by a newsboy "pape! baby born with two heads! Excuse me miss would you like an evening pape" I bit the inside of my lip anxiously. I needed to get to my shift but i guess buying a paper wouldn't hurt "sure thing, uh what was the headline again? Baby born with two heads? Sounds weirdly interesting."

"Heh yea, good headline. I'm spot conlon, here's your papa miss." Thanks I handed him a penny as I grabbed the pape reading over the front page a little bit.

"I'm y/n Baker(a/n:yes I made her last name Baker cause The Baker-y it's a ounce it's supposed to be funny)" he seemed to think over the name until a little snicker came out "baker? Your the bakers daughter so baker...y hah! your pops a funny guy"

I nod my head muttering a small yea, "I uh have to get going, or I'll be late for my shift at the bak..er.y" I said that a little awkwardly (story of my life lol)

We said our goodbyes and I left for the bakery.

---------present time;spots pov:---------

Opening the door to the small business letting out a small ding letting people know someone walked in.

I looked around to see if I could spot (get it spot I'll stop now... Lol) the

Y/H/L girl when I felt someone tap on my should I was about to get ready to, make a snarky comment when they walked around me to face me.

"Hi spot" came a beaming face of joy of the girl I came here to see made me let out a small smile. "Hey y/n."

"I'm guessing the usual, and on the house of course" I nodded as she got out a small bag and tongs to pick up said pastry (it can be any pastry any) she handed me the bag and I put it in my newsies bag.

"So how have the boys been let me guess they ate the mini muffins in 3 days?" She said jokingly "actually five but they saved a lot of the younger ones they weren't that greedy" "good I put a lot of work in those"

"Hey spot I just got of shift if you were wanting to hang or walk around" "yea sure" we left the family owned businesses of hers and started walking around Brooklyn.

We were walking for a good half ouw until we stop half across the Brooklyn Bridge "hey spot I want to give you something." I could by the shakeness of her voice she was nervous. I nodded my head signaling her to continue

She reached into her pocket and pull out a key hang from a chain like necklace "this is a spare key to the bakery if we are very closed and you want to see me just use that key make sure you close it behind you tho. And go up the stairs usually I'll be in the living room. She hang the key around my neck as I just staired at her

"What... I made a mistake haven't I, I shou-" I cut her off by kissing her passionately, i broke the kiss before she could kiss back "you didn't make a mistake doll. You are perfect I will wear this key with respect." I smile at her.

She the leaned in to kiss me as I kissed back. I held her face with my right hand as and lean my left hand on the ridge of the bridge pulling her in.

We broke apart needing air. "Spot I love you. I love you okay I got it out...."

We both chuckled a little bit "it's starting to get dark we should head back" before I could walk away she pull me back

"I- spot if.. Your willing to try would you want to date like be partners??" I nod my head a little "yea I'm willing to give it a try" I replied with a smile

She let out a sigh of relief "okay we can head back now" we started walking back. Once we got back to her house/the bakery

We she walked inside holding the door open ikfted an eyebrow in confusion "don't just stand there you probably cold come in stay the night plus it's pitch black and gonna rain soon"

I nodded my head once again and walked in as she closed up the bakery and locked it

As we got ready for a the night sleep.

-----------------------------------------

That's the focus hope you enjoyed I can post this on ao3 aswell you can find me there on I think pumkyn_pvtch if not than look up Mischa bachinski/reader and it should be 3rd one down it's a oneshots book for RTC :)

[itaintlyinjustimprovingthetruth]

Newsies

(REDONE, POSTING OW ONTO FANFIC ACC!!)

David Jacobs x FTM!Reader

Jack Kelly is their brother

idea/prompt: The strike gets too violent, and the reader gets hurt in one eye, Jack gets extremely worried about them as well.

Setting: Rally at Irving Hall, Newsboys Lodging House

Word count: 1,781

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the Rally at Irving Hall, the place being filled with newsies from Richmond, Brooklyn, Woodside, and Bronx just to name a few. The rally was being hosted by who else  than Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon, and David Jacobs. After the whole speech, Miss Medda sang a song for all the boys. But, Snyder had come to the Hall, with so many bulls that it surrounded the place. A huge fight broke out. Y/N, however, was knocked out cold by the end of it, and who else than Davey had found them, and had taken him to the Lodging house to patch them up from any of the wounds they had, and let him rest. The time of this, starts when Y/N wakes up.

Y/N had woken up, a hand on his head. He looked around, confused for a moment before realizing he couldnt see through his right eye. He started to panic, looking around for anybody. That's when Davey, his beloved, had walked in 

“Y/N? Y/N you're alright!”  Davey ran over to his bed, hugging them gently, “Does anything hurt anywhere? Did I get all of your wounds and bruises?”

“ 'm fine, Davey, but there might be a problem..”

“Wh-? Did something happen?” His expression changed from relief to worry, as he looked at him

“I can't see out o’ my right eye, Davey..”

“You can't- wh? But how- what happened?” He looked very worried, hugging onto Y/n still.

“I think someone hit my eye, a bit too hard if ‘m bein’ honest..” you say, lightheartedly joking.

“Y/N, we shouldnt be joking right now, this is serious-” Davey said, worry flushing through his face.

You sigh, holding davey's face , and kiss his cheek “Ill be fine, though, when have’t i been?”

“W- well, i mean, you weren't fine for the few weeks you were out-” He replies, looking at Y/N. “And also when you just now told me you cant see through your Right eye-” he begins again.

“-But ‘m okay now, correct? I’s fine, Davey'' you give a warm smile to him, opening your arms for another hug, which he gladly takes.

“You better be alright…” he mumbles, staying close to you, looking up at you as well. You give him a smile, a smile that's comforting to him.

“May I’s get up yet..?” You drowsily ask, putting a hand in Daveys hair.

“Absolutely not- you're still hurt, y’know. And don't even think about saying you aren't, cause you'll probably stumble.” he says, getting up “And plus, you’ll worry the others.” Davey helps you sit up, smiling a little at you. 

“Ill be fine- gotta walk it of, ya know?” you smile back at Davey, going to get up, but ultimately failing. Davey had pushed you back into the bed.

“You're still not getting up- Want me to get you something?”

“My mouths kind of dry, i would’t mind wata” 

“Alright, i'll be back.” Davey leaves the room, leaving you alone. Is it a bad idea? Probably. Because you immediately get up, stumbling to the door. To be honest, you just wanted to check on the others. By the time you made it to the door, Davey had came back. 

“Y/N! Get back in the bed-” He brought you back to the bed, making you whine slightly. “Your still hurt, mister, you’re not getting up.”

“But Daveyyyyyy-” you whine, trying to get up again, which Davey had stopped you again.  “I wanna get uppp- pleaseeee?” you tried doing the puppy eyes, but davey had sat you down anyway.

“No, Y/N, your badly injured still, and im not risking anything. Now, drink the water you asked for.” he replies. You pout and drink the water. Davey smiles slightly, and gives you a kiss on your cheek. “Want me to get anyone?”

“Whoever wants to see me, Davey.” you replied, giving him a small smile back, shifting a little in the bed

“So far, Jack is worried the most- he’s worried about a lot, now that i think about it-..” he mumbles the last part, and goes to get Jack. Jack, once he heard he was finally allowed to see you, rushes in like the worried brother he is.

“Y/n! How have you been? Are you alright? What happened? Do I need to beat anyone up?” he said panicky, 

“ ‘m fine, Jack, and no- absolutely not, violence isn't an answer, Jack” you sigh, opening your arms for a hug, which in response he hugs you back, in a brotherly comfort way.

“Y/n, i know that- its ‘cause violence is da question and da answar’ is yes” your response from that was a sigh of disappointment 

“No, Jack, it isn’t, and it never will be.” 

“I guess your right then- Davey, didn't you say something about him bein’ hurt..? He looks all’right.”

“You wanna tell him or do I have to, Y/n?” Davey asks calmly, looking at you

“Jack- ive uhm, gone Blind in ma’ right eye..” you said, hoping jack wouldn't get too upset or angry at whoever did it to you.

“..and how'd that happen? Ans who dids it-” He looks at you, with a surprisingly serious face. You usually have seen Jack with a goofy or unserious face, so this was the first time in a while you've seen his serious face. The last time you've seen him so serious was when you were a kid, and that was a long time ago.

“Noone- not that i know of, atleast, and youse aren't beatin’ nobody, Jack” you respond with hesitance, because you didn't know if he was threatening violence or not.you honestly couldn't tell that much, reading tone was definitely not your strong suit. 

“I ain’ts dumb, Y/n, i knows not ta’ beat anyone up” he responds with a slight tone of voice you couldnt figure out if it was sarcasm or not. You didn't know why it was so hard for you to read tone because you could never learn how too, no one had taught you. Davey had been trying to teach you, and it was somewhat helping, but you couldn't read tone well.

“...So you aren't gonna beat whoever up?” you ask, looking up at the cowboy

“Nope, 'm not. I promise.” Jack replies, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Alright, ill trust you for now- Davey, keep an eye on ‘im?”  you turned to davey, who gave a nod “And Davey, you know i can't stay in this damn bed forever.” 

“I know, i know- but it's better for you to stay in bed for now, so you can heal to your best. Then i'll allow you to get up again.” He sighs slightly but with a smile “I can promise that, okay?”

“Alright- don’ make me get Jackie to watch ya” you go to steal his hat, so you can ruffle his hair. He tries to snatch it back but instead you ruffle his hair lightly, giving a sinister grin. His face responds back with one too, and he steals your hat and puts it on. You chuckle a little and put his on ”I have a cute guys hat on now” you say, making Davey blush a little. Jack leaves the two lovebirds alone, just meaning you and Davey were in the room. You do grabby hands for him, and in response he comes over and hugs you, gently. You kiss his face all over and smile a bunch. His face starts going red after the first few kisses, which just makes you smile even more.

“I see your feel better, Dear-” he mumbles out, letting you go

“I guess I am, hmm?” you give a cheeky smile “can i get up yet? ‘m feelin’  betta after all.” 

“Still no. i want you to stay in bed for at least a day, okay? Not risking anything. Also, i had to take your binder off and wash it, you were wearing it for too long and you were knocked out. Don't worry, nobody saw you. I made sure.” You nod a little 

“When can i have it back?” you ask

“Tomorrow, alright?” you nod again, sitting up 

“Can i atleast sit up, Davey? I promise i wont get uuup-”

“...Fine.” he sits on the edge of the bed, just there to keep you company. You two started small talk, Davey telling you about the strike news recently, stuff like that. You smile and listen, because Davey's voice could be calming a lot. You seemed to start drifting off to sleep, but stayed awake so Davey wouldn't think he was too boring again. You didn't really like it when he thought he was boring, because he wasn't at all. He seemed to be more energetic with people he knew well. You were one of those people, because Jack had introduced you two to each other when Davey and Les started being a newsie, which seemed to be a day before the strike started. I guess it could have been a coincidence, that's what everyone said, though. You just went along with it. When the two of you met, something had sparked with you two, and it seemed to be love at first sight. At least, that's what some of the newsies said. They usually saw hints before you could register them. That was something you liked about the other newsboys here. Sure, they could be mean sometimes, but you were fine with that. 

“Are any of the others hurt?” you ask, looking at davey.

“Not that i know of, not recently.” he replies, looking at you “Why do you ask?”

“Just a bit worried, is all” you said, shifting a little in the bed. “You know Davey says, getting up “you should sleep then, hmm?”

“Davey im not tired- oh! Lets get Racetrack in here and we can play spoons!” You jump up a little in excitement, and davey rests you back down 

“I know how you get when playing with Race, no. please, try and rest? You can play with him tomorrow- its already 9pm, Y/n.”

“But Daveyyyyyyy-” you whine, looking at him. You wanted to play badly, but he was right. He should really going to bed. He nods slightly and lays down, “Can I have cuddles, at least? You wont crush me or anythin’ ” you chuckle lightly at the statement at the end, and Davey comes over and cuddles you. You two share some cuddles, and soon the two of you drift off to sleep.

[lynnsfics]

Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Spot Conlon x Reader

Request: hello! i absolutely love your writing! could I request a spot conlon x reader with prompt #19 from list #3? thank you so much! you’re amazing! <3333 Prompt: “It’s 3 A.M., shouldn’t you be asleep?” TW: Mentions of neglect, nightmares

Word Count: Approx. 1.8k words

~~~

“Get out of my house,” your aunt’s words echoed in your mind on an endless loop. You bolted up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Once again you were forced to relive the awful night over again in your dreams. 

With a quiet sigh you forced yourself to leave your bed. Immediately you began to shiver and started to regret the decision. You kept going, however. If you decided to stay in bed all you would do is fall back into another nightmare-infected sleep, or you’d stay up the rest of the night, staring at the lodging house’s ceiling. Either way, it wouldn’t be a restful night. At least if you were up now you’d be ready for selling in the morning. Besides, maybe if you were tired enough you could sleep through the  next night without issue. 

While you doubted that theory, you figured there was no harm in trying it. After all it wasn’t as if you had anything to lose at this point. You quickly slipped on a sweater, effectively blocking out some of the chill. The lodging house was quiet as you made your way down the steps. Brooklyn always felt so different at night. When the city fell quiet and you finally felt like you could breathe. All you could hope was that the others wouldn’t ask questions as to why you kept staying up so late. 

Reaching the entry of the lodging house, you breathed a sigh of relief. No one else seemed to be up. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to talk to anyone, you wouldn’t have minded the company. But they were almost bound to question why you were up so late, which would lead you to spilling everything, including a lot of tears. It was better for everyone that you kept all that bottled up.

One of the good things about being a newsie was that no one would ask about your past. Almost everyone who ended up selling papes had some kind of tragic backstory so it was only polite to avoid bringing it up. Truth be told, you hadn’t properly processed the trauma of being kicked out by your only family. But to be fair, how could you? As soon as you were on the streets you had to fight to survive, you couldn’t sit around wallowing about what had happened. 

As much as you tried to push it to the back of your mind you couldn’t stop the memories from resurfacing. Your mother had died when you were young, and your dad did his best to raise you. After he was tragically killed in a factory accident you were left in the care of your only remaining family- your aunt. She was an older woman who tried to raise you but had little money of her own. However she was too proud to admit to her financial situation, and wasted what money she had on frivolous trinkets rather than things you needed to survive. Your needs were always the least of her concerns.

One day you stole some bread from a local bakery, thinking you’d get away with it like usual. Most days stealing was the only way you’d be able to get something to eat. But you were tired, too tired, and didn’t notice the shopkeeper watching your movements. By the time you realized it, it was too late. The bulls had already arrived and you were taken into custody. Thankfully the shopkeeper was kind enough to insist you not be taken to the Refuge, but instead let off with a warning.

When the police escorted you home, you aunt was livid. It wasn’t because you were arrested, oh no, it was because you were arrested for stealing food. Imagine how badly that made her look! “What would people think,” she cried. “That I’m too poor to buy you food?”

“Maybe if you actually bought me food instead of worrying about your image, this wouldn’t have happened.” The words left your mouth before you even thought about it.

Your aunt’s face contorted in rage, “Why you ungrateful little wretch. Get out of my house!” After that you were living on the streets. Fortunately you became a newsie, and now hardly ever had to steal to survive. 

You were too lost in thought to realize someone had entered the room you were in. It wasn’t until you heard someone say your name that you were snapped back to reality. Looking up, you glanced around the room. Your heart raced when you saw who it was. 

“Oh, hey Spot,” you said, trying to play it cool. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You prayed you hadn’t. Waking up the King of Brooklyn was probably a crime punishable by death. 

“No, I was up,” he answered, much to your relief. “But what are you doing? It’s 3 A.M., shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You shook your head, “Couldn’t sleep. You?” Maybe turning the conversation back to him would draw attention away from your vague answer.

He nodded in understanding. “Same thing. Want a cup of coffee?” You weren’t sure where he would get coffee at this hour but nodded yes anyway. It would be rude to refuse, right? Besides, maybe the coffee would help you stay up while selling papers tomorrow.

Beckoning you to follow him, he led you to a back room you had previously thought was just for storage. Instead it seemed to be a small office space. A wood burning stove sat in the corner, a pot of water boiling on its surface. The room had a homey, lived-in feel that you couldn’t help but bask in. Two plush, but worn looking, chairs sat near a desk, and Spot motioned for you to have a seat in one of them. 

“It’s my private office,” Spot explained. “Don’t be tellin’ any of the others about it, or else they’ll be in here all day,” he said with a small laugh. The fact he even let you see the office was shocking. While you had talked with him often, you wouldn’t have expected him to trust you this much. After all, it didn’t seem like he became too close with any of the newsies. 

He handed you a hot cup of coffee and all other thoughts instantly dissipated. It was perfect, not too sweet or too dark. Just the way you liked it. You drank your coffee in comfortable silence that was occasionally peppered with some small talk. 

When the morning bell rang he walked with you to the selling window, causing whispers amongst the other newsies. After the day ended you felt tired enough to fall asleep as soon as you made it back to the lodging house. However, later that night it was the same story as always. The same words echoing in your head, the same racing heartbeat as you woke up. Again, you made your way to the lobby to clear your thoughts, only to see Spot already sitting there. 

You smiled slightly, “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You too?” That’s how it happened that once again you found yourself in Spot’s office with a cup of coffee in hand. Before you knew it, it became a tradition. When you both couldn’t sleep he’d invite you to join him for a cup of coffee, and then walk with you to buy his papes. Eventually you’d end up sitting next to each other on the sofa in the lobby— close enough that you could notice the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of a good selling day, but far enough away so if any of the other newsies came down they wouldn’t suspect anything was happening between the two of you. Because nothing was happening, right?

The two of you became closer during this time, often talking about anything and everything. As you opened up to each other he finally explained why he never seemed to sleep. Too many worries about the newsies and selling kept him up at night, leaving him unable to sleep. That night he asked the question you’d been dreading. “Why is it that youse can’t sleep?” 

You stared into your coffee cup for a moment before answering quietly, “Nightmares.” For some reason you knew he wouldn’t laugh at you for being plagued by the night terrors. 

“Do ya want to talk about it?” His voice was softer than usual, and you could tell he actually cared about what was bothering you. 

After a moment of consideration you nodded. You explained it all, from your father’s death to your aunt’s neglect. As you finished your story, explaining the nightmares about being kicked out, a tear slipped out the corner of your eye. Until then you had managed to hold them back, not wanting to cry in front of him, but eventually your emotions had betrayed you. 

He moved closer to you, gently wiping the tear away. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said quietly. “You ain’t there anymore, I’ve got you.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you found yourself leaning into his embrace. 

“It doesn’t even bother me about leaving,” you said honestly. “Life wasn’t good there. I think I just don’t want to be alone again.” 

His eyes met yours, “I’m here now, and I promise you that you ain’t ever going to be alone again.” Maybe it was his words, or the small gestures of kindness, or a million different things, but you felt yourself being drawn to him. He leaned in and you quickly closed the remaining distance. The kiss was soft and reassuring. As he pulled you closer to him, you felt safe for the first time in a long time.

When you finally broke apart you were breathless. For the rest of the night you two talked, opening up about your childhoods and things that worried you, occasionally sharing another kiss or two- or more. The whole time you were curled up next to him, his arms holding you gently. 

Eventually you felt yourself growing tired and without even realizing it you ended up falling asleep. Spot smiled, glad you were finally able to get some rest. It wasn’t too long after that he found himself dozing off.

When you two finally awoke it was morning. The other newsies hadn’t yet woken up, which you were thankful for. That day Spot stayed with you while selling, and he did the day after that, and again until it became the normal routine. At night you’d fall asleep in his arms, a feeling of security washing over you. He was your protection from nightmares and worries, and you knew you’d never have to be alone again.  

~~~

Requested By: anon

I hope everyone had a happy and safe New Year! Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

[whyareyouhere66]

Spot Conlon x GN Reader - IDK U Yet [Prologue/Part1]

Spot Conlon x GN Reader

Inspired by song “IDK U Yet” by Alexander 23

I had a post where I mentioned my idea for this, and I got sudden bursts of inspiration at random times and now I can present to you the Prologue/Part 1 of said idea.

A bit scattered, little messy. Again I wrote several paragraphs or sentences weeks apart. It is also a bit shorter- but I am making a part 2- where there’s actually a plot instead of just this little monologue like thing.

Warnings: None? Idk man loneliness, messy writing. Angst.

Y/n collapsed onto the small and lumpy mattress of their bed, only barely able to hear the squeak of the bed frame that followed. The end of yet another exhausting day, the eerie quietness of the tiny apartment a big contrast to the bustling noise at work. 

“Y/n, can you get this for me?”

“Y/n, don’t forget to do this-“

“Pass me that bread-basket, will ya?”

Just the thought of it made their muscles tense. 

They settled on their side, curling up under the blankets as the overwhelming emptiness situated itself next to them.

The silhouette of someone who should be there, whom they wanted to be there, but just wasn’t. 

Little did they know, only 15 miles away, the King of Brooklyn himself was feeling the same way.

Despite how crowded the Brooklyn-Newsies Lodging House was, he still couldn’t stop the painfully lonely feeling that overcame him each night. 

Years of working as a newsie, spending every day working his ass off.

He barely spared a thought about his soulmate- so the curiosity of this unknown person was sudden. 

‘What color will their hair be?’

‘Will they know how to fight?’

‘Where’re they from- where am I supposed to look?’

‘What’ll they think of my job,..’

Etc etc,- all the smallest questions concerning the smallest details, yet the curiosity and possible answers of it all managed to keep him up late into the night, staring into the mindless abyss some called a ceiling.

They say there’s not a clear sign when you finally meet them, you’ll just know. 

Spot wanted to know. Y/n wanted to know. 

The next day when they each woke up, Spot was quickly being rushed into work while Y/n stayed an extra moment in the warmth of their blankets and pillow. Simply another day of labor, drowning in bread rolls, flour and greedy costumers looking only to steal the freshly baked goods. 

Simply another day that Y/n would watch the costumers who would come in and out, searching for that feeling- that moment where they would finally know. 

The only unfortunate factor being, they still had no idea what they were searching for. 

Again, a similar thing occurs down in Brooklyn. Everyday he’d search for it on the streets, a sort of motivation for pape-selling. What if he happened to sell to his soulmate, they make eye contact and suddenly all is right in the world? Just a moment- where all the money troubles, food troubles, etc would just melt away, even if it lasted no longer than a second. 

That had to be it- that had to be the feeling he was chasing after…right?

A dreadful routine, it was. Waking up tired. Going to work tired, forcing a smile on their face while they sold to the needy people who roamed the street. Barely making a couple of dimes, only for them to later return to the dusty old buildings they called home. 

And when the time finally came to go shut-eye for the night, they found themselves staring at the ceiling in wonder, accompanied only by the shadow of someone who should be there, but wasn’t. 

And through the hazy hurricane of wonder and pained questions, one managed to stick out-standing at the end of each question the teens asked holding a sign with only the intention of further curiosity. 

‘When will the lonely times end, and the joyful ones begin?’

[cant-see-sam]

Friendly Rivalry

Spot Conlon x reader

Word count: 2017 words

Enemies to lovers

Thanks @heliads for the ideas

Slight description of injuries, not in detail tho

Enjoy :)

Spot Conlon was competitive. Very competitive. From the moment you started selling papes with him and his boys, he saw you as competition. This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by some of the others. Those who could afford to make bets did, and others spread rumors about you and Spot.

Long story short. Spot hated you, and you hated him. The careful balance of the lodging house relied on your banter and arguments. Even when selling you were at each other's throats, the boy was determined to one up you in the smallest ways.

Spot walked along side you to your selling spot on the street corner, practically talking your ear off, “You’se gettin rusty (Y/N),” Spot taunted, “Maybe I should take a few of your papes.”

“You’re not stealing from me,” You quipped, “I’ll soak you if you do.” Spot seemed to want to reply, but he was quickly cut off by an older man approaching you.

“How much for one?” The man pointed to the paper in your hands.

“This one’s a penny,” You replied, handing it over to the man. He dug around in his pocket for the money, handing the small piece of copper over, “Thanks sir!” You chirped.

“You’re welcome,” The man replied, “Good day to you.”

“Good day, sir,” You replied, turning back to Spot, “You heard that, Spotty Boy? I’m getting every penny out of you.”

“You can’t get every penny,” Spot replied.

“Watch me.”

--

The babble of Newsies was a loud sound, but a welcome one nonetheless. Laces, Bouncer and Jackson crowded around a crate, handing over cash and other belongings to bet.

A small girl sat on her bunk with a paper book. Piper hadn’t gotten a name yet, she had showed up on the steps of the lodge last week. She was wicked smart, even at six, she knew how to fudge headlines. You sat next to her, earning a surprised squeak from the girl.

“Hey Pipes. Think of a name yet?” You pulled her into your side when she shook her head, “That’s okay, you can be like me and keep your name.”

“But I want a name,” She whined, “We have to find a name.”

“We don’t have to,” You said, “For a while, you can be Piper.” She nodded, and looked up at you, “Well, for now.” Piper nodded, then leaned her head onto your shoulder, and picked her book back up.

You sat there for a while, running your hand through the blond strands of hair that fell onto your shoulder from the girl next to you. At one point, she had fallen asleep, softly snoring with her book resting on her lap.

Nobody noticed that Spot entered. That was until Jackson opened his loud mouth, “Spotty boy! Fancy a game of Blackjack?”

Spot sighed, “What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“You let (Y/N) call you that.” Bouncer spoke up.

“Just- Nobody calls me that. Got it?” Spot huffed. A couple of ‘yes sir’’s came from the boys, “Good,” Spot continued, “I’ll be in my office if anyone needs anything. Try not to stay up too late. Mr. Vincent is waking us up. I suggest you listen. ”

--

Just as Spot said, you were awoken by loud clanging. You could hear groans come from one of the boys below you. Across from you, Vincent set down his pot and spoon in exchange for yelling, “Everybody up!”

Shuffling of sheets and box springs could be heard beneath your bunk. You sat up, squinting at the light coming from the crack in the door. Spot was standing in the doorway, coffee in hand, “(Y/N),” He mockingly cooed, “If you don’t get up soon, I’ll beat ya to the streets.” You sighed and flipped him off, but got out of bed anyway.

“Watch it,” Spot mouthed to you, glaring. You gave him a stern look and went to wash up. Spot chuckled a bit, but soon left to get ready.

The boys were already in the common room, waiting for you to join them. Bouncer, Jackson, Laces and Piper were all standing around the coffee pot. You walked over to the coffee pot and took a seat next to Jackson. The oldest of the home slowly started trickling down the stairs after the small ones, and once everyone was down, Mr. Vincent practically shoved people out of the house.

--

The streets were glaringly hot, even at seven in the morning. The commotion of men and women going to work drowned out your calls, but you still yelled, losing your voice is better than not eating.

A teenager approached you, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than your whole life’s earnings. You put on a sickly sweet smile and he mirrored it, “Hello little Miss. Don’t you look nice?” The boy all but cooed.

Ew.

You swallow the disgust rising in your stomach. A customer is a customer after all, “Would you like a paper?” You cleared your throat, “Third page has tips on how to flirt. Might want to try it.”

You watch the teen’s eyes go wide, “Well aren’t you a feisty one?”

“Have to make a living somehow.” You shrug. Something about the way he was looking at you rubbed you the wrong way.

He leaned in close, “I’ll tell you, come with me and I’ll give you more than what you need.”

“I think I’m fine here.”

He sighed, dug in his pocket and handed you a penny and took his pape in return, “Have a good day.”

You watched as the customer walked away and turned around, meeting hard blue eyes. Spot was glaring harshly at the quickly retreating teen. You turned to counting your papers, even with the feeling of eyes burning holes in your skull. Twenty more.

An hour passed. Fifteen.

Thirty minutes left you with eight, and soon enough you had sold the rest. While walking back you picked up a few pieces of candy for Piper, sticking one in your mouth to see if it was poisonous. (It wasn’t.)

The lodge was nearly empty, save for the few Newsies quietly chatting or playing card games. You moved toward the stairs, Spot standing there with a dirty look on his face.

“What was that about?” He cocked his head, a slight fire dancing behind his eyes. You knew this look all too well. Nothing good ever comes from it.

You shook your head, “What? Why were you watching anyways?”

“I saw someone downtown making eyes at you.”

“Really?” You scoffed, “You would come here and fight me for my attention?”

“I’se just wonderin how far you would go for a penny.” Spot snapped.

This little- “Well I hate to be the one to break it to you but I have morals. I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here.” Spot just rubbed the bridge of his nose and you took it as a sign to push past him.

Upstairs, you were met with silence. Obviously you had been overheard. Patches, a girl about your age looked at you curiously, “How are you not dead?” Shaking your head, you tried to ignore her. She continued, “If any of us talked to Spot like that we’d be soaked almost instantly.”

“She’s right (Y/N). You get special treatment. I bet Spotty Boy has a thing for you.” Bouncer chimed in.

You turned to the pair, “Spot doesn’t have a ‘thing’ for me. You’re delusional.”

Patches hummed, “I don’t know. It sure looks like it.” She smiled.

“We’re not having this conversation.” You groaned.

“I’m not surprised,” Patches leaned against a bunk, “You can’t run away from it forever (Y/N).” She shrugged off the exchange, but you couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not.

The rest of the day went as typically. The loud commotion escalated when more people finished selling. Mr. Vincent brought some food a bit after six, and by eleven everyone was in bed.

You tossed and turned late into the night. Spot couldn’t have really meant what he said, right? The scratchy blanket only aggravated you more. You needed to get out, but where? The fire escape was old and not very stable, and god knows you can’t go out on the streets at this time.

You climbed down from your bunk, the old floorboards creaking with every step. You were bound to draw attention eventually, and as fate would have it, Spot came out of his room at the same time you reached for a cup of water.

Hair slightly fussed, the boy across from you froze, “What are you doing up?”

“Why does it concern you?” You whispered.

Spot grimaced, “I’m not looking to start a fight.”

“Then don’t provoke one.”

You watched as his face morphed from exhaustion to slight anger, “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

“It’s my best trait. Do you need anything else?” You rolled your eyes, suddenly all too aware of the way he was clutching his side. He was slightly keeled over in what seemed like pain.

He knew you noticed, because he quickly said, “It’s fine, just some boy’s from Queens crossing some lines.”

You reached to brush his ribs, pulling your hand away at the last second, “Spot I-”

“It’s okay.” He cut you off, “Just some scratches.”

“Can I see?” You tentatively asked. He watched you for a second, before nodding and pulling you into his small office.

Spot slowly lifted his shirt, sitting on the desk with his legs slightly hanging off. It was bad. Bruises marks ran up and his chest, occasionally marked with small cuts that were hard to see in the dim light. Spot hissed when you ran your hand over a particularly large patch of blue.

The tension in the room was palpable, and it took all your willpower not to slap him for getting into this in the first place.

He seemed to be waiting for something, but you weren’t sure what. You tried to keep your breathing under control, you could feel your heartbeat through your chest.

A hand gently grabbed your wrist, “Look at me.” Something in him changed and you were caught off guard. He was as far from authority as you could get. His eyes were tired, but hopefully not from sleep.

You immediately obeyed, blinking to clear the image of his face away. He smirked, “Why’re you doing this?” His tone was so suggestive, and you knew he was referring to the way your hands gently brushed his skin.

You sighed, “Can’t have the king of Brooklyn in pain in front of his boy’s right?” You pulled your hand from his grasp, moving to grab the bandages you know he stores in a drawer.

“(Y/N) can you be serious for once?” Spot replied softly. You shushed him to let you focus. He winced slightly when you stood between his legs to get a better angle to disinfect the best you could.

When you finished wrapping his torso he hopped down from the desk, still in front of him, you were shocked at the sudden night difference. Too shocked to notice how close he was. Warmth radiated off of the boy in front of you, causing shivers to run though you.

You struggled to find words, grasping as syllables to try and find something, anything to say, “Spot-”

He cut you off, “Thanks.”

Welp.

That’s odd. Spot Conlon never said ’thanks’. Why would he have to? He’s a competitive asshole who tests your limits every day. Yet here you were, standing inches away from him, in the dead of night after he just did who-knows-what.

While you were reeling to fill the gaps in your mind, you failed to notice how he slowly leaned down, softly pressing a kiss to your lips. It was quick, tentative and basically the opposite of the boy in front of you.

He gave you a small grin, “I think you’se best be asleep. Big day of selling tomorrow.”

“Shit- Yeah- Uh- Goodnight Spot.” You stepped back from him.

He gave a two-fingered salute, “Night (Y/N).” He watched you step out of the office, hand resting on your bottom lip and chuckled.

[teddy06writes]

How Unreasonable

Requested: no

92sies! Spot Conlon x reader

trigger warnings: mentions of drunkenness', sort of violence

Premise: Based on Fair By the Amazing Devil; just a small moment with the King Of Brooklyn

{Why do I keep doing things based on songs? Idk man}

{I was gonna do this idea for the outsiders but i didn't know who to do it for and then I was thinking about the line 'she brushes her hands through his hair- he's got so much fucking hair' and every 92sies!spot fan art has long-ish hair, so...}

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You know, before this- before all of this, I put almost all my effort into getting you to like me?" Spot asked quietly.

"Really?" You chuckled.

It was dark out, and you had just come out to join him on the fire escape, looking out over the blinking lights of the city.

He nodded, "Kept trying to find new jokes-"

"Well you were still laughing." He pointed out.

You smiled, leaning back against the rail, "Well I was trying to get you to like me too."

"Must've worked then," Spot laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist, "I seem to remember you agreeing to be mine eventually, Darlin'."

You chuckled, leaning into him, "I do remember that happening."

It was quiet again for a long moment before he sighed, "So, how was your day? Any weird buyers?"

"Nah," You shook your head, "Saw my brother though. Looked drunk off 'is ass..."

"He didn't bother you, did 'e?" Spot asked quickly.

"Nah... I don't think he saw me, only saw the drink in his hand. Probably still doing better than the old man." You chuckled.

"Swear I'd knock some sense into that kid if I could," Spot muttered, "He's got no right to abandon you for-- neither does your old man!"

You sighed, "No you wouldn't- I'd stop you. Don't matter what they did, I'm still better off now."

Spot looked at you for a long moment, "God (y/n)- you know you are so much stronger than I ever could be?"

"I do my best." You chuckled.

He shifted, wrapping both arms around you, leaving you to smile happily, beginning to run your fingers through his hair.

You glanced back toward the open window, only a flicker of candle light from down the hall could be seen.

Leaning down a bit, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, "God it's not fair."

"What's not?" He asked quietly.

"It's not fair how much I love you. It's not fair, cause you always speak so highly of me when I've done nothing. And cause you make me laugh when I'm actually really cross at you..."

Spot laughed, "oh how, how unreasonable."

"Hey!" You half protested.

"I was gonna say- how unreasonably in love I am, with everything you do, I'll spend my days so close to you..."

Now it was your turn to laugh, "You sap."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, "Well I know exactly what I want and its this life that we've created- cause darlin I was born to wrap my arms around your waist at night when lights faded, and to tell you that you could be the death of me."

You sighed, beginning to comb through his hair with your fingers again, "You know sometimes you make my heart ache, you bastard."

Spot grinned, "Oh how unreasonable."

[wdwmarveldisney]

hiii!! i was wondering if you could do one where the reader just got back from the refuge and that night they have a nightmare but spot is there to comfort her?

Just Give It Time

Spot Conlon x fem!reader

Summary: Nightmares plagued your rest and you'd managed to be pretty quiet about them until now.

Masterlist

A/N: Okay so it’s short but eh. I love it and I know I always say that but like, I do. Gotta love Spot.

GIF isn’t mine

Every newsie knew about the refuge. Some were lucky enough to have never been but those who had, they changed. Sometimes it wasn't noticeable, for such young kids they're all pretty good at compartmentalising. For others, it was clear in everything they did, every move, every word and every breath. Fortunately for you, or maybe not, you were the former. You'd been out of the refuge for two days now and, though they are all on high alert, not a single one can notice anything different. You're still bubbly, still full of energy, you're never not smiling unless it's a jokey pout.

You wanted to say that you left unscathed, that you weren't effected. But how could you not be? The lack of food, the three or four to a tiny and uncomfortable bed, the rats and leaks from the ceiling, the punishments. The place was vile, a real life living nightmare. So you weren't shocked when you started struggling to sleep without seeing those nasty images. Nightmares plagued your rest and you'd managed to be pretty quiet about them the last couple of nights. Someone would catch on soon but you were hoping for another week or two, trying to prove you weren't weak.

Tonight had been no different for the most part, ages to get to sleep and only having around an hour before you woke up with heavy breaths and tears running down your cheeks. Normally you were quiet though. You didn't awake with a start or jump out of bed. But today, you were screaming, thrashing around in your cover and somebody had to actually hold you in place to get you to calm down. That somebody being Spot.

When he noticed all the tired and startled newsies staring, he managed to coax you into standing up and leading you out of the room and towards where he slept. You trailed behind numbly, one arm wrapped around yourself whilst your hand was intertwined with Spot's as he lead you. The boy wouldn't stop looking to you like some terrible thing would suddenly happen. Silence engulfed the two of you, shoving you into the depths of your mind where the nightmares, memories lurked. Spot could feel how heavily you were shaking and he could see the struggle to breath. So he picked up the pace and sat you on the bed before pulling you into him.

You didn't even seem to register any of it and he could see you blinking your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the tears. His hand stayed at the top of your head as he held you to his chest, murmuring sweet and calming words to you. It took a little while for you to realise what was happening, Spot's whispered, "You'se alright, ya not there anymore," making you realise what happened. New tears began to well up, falling quickly as you moved to hide your face into his chest.

"Y/N, you'se okay, I's here," he reached for your hand and gripped it tightly as tears streamed down your cheeks. A small sniffle from you made him look over to you and you didn't bother glancing up as you spoke, "I'm sorry, I woke you up," he gave a quiet chuckle and you could feel his chest shake as a kiss was place to your forehead. You looked up, brows furrowed as you saw the look on his face, "It's funny that you'se think I care about being woken up," you laughed with him, tracing shapes at the top of his shirt. Spot smiled at the gentle grin on your face before it slowly fell and you took a deep shaky breath. You began to fiddle with his fingers, a slight tremor in your voice as you spoke, "Still. Can't be nice to hold down a screaming friend,"

Spot shrugged as his arm tightened its hold and his gaze fixating on your hands. He felt rage bubbling away in his stomach and he felt the worry and concern consume him. How could he let this happen to you? How could he let you get caught and end up in the refuge? You looked so utterly broken and that broke him more than anything else could. He placed another kiss to your forehead, "It's okay. You'se gonna be too, just give it time," He heard the soft scoff from you and he saw the slight roll of your eyes as your free hand moved to wipe at your cheeks, "Yeah, okay," Normally he would laugh at any quip or remark but not today, not after what just happened.

"Trust me, I'lls be here through it all," you giggled softly making him raise an eyebrow. Your face scrunched up a little as you lightly punched his shoulder, "You better. I’ll kill ya if ya don't," He laughed with you this time, head moving so now his chin rested on top of your head. Sure, you'd been through a lot but you had Spot to help calm you down after every nightmare, hold you close every time you felt like you were completely losing it.

[miryum]

You know I love you (Spot Conlon x Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts forever

Warnings: Not proof-read, a sentence about a fist-fight, bruising

Remy tugged on your skirt. “Hey- Hey Y/n?” His voice was quiet and nervous.

“Yeah, bud?” Something was off in the usually lively and energetic boy. You scooped him up, bringing him to eye level. 

Remy looked down, avoiding your gaze. “Could I please have one of your apples?” 

“Of course,” you walked over to the small kitchen in the Brooklyn boarding house and picked an apple off of the counter. “Why? Did you spend all your money on toys again?” 

“Um, no.” Remy said, “I lost it.”

“You lost your money?” You frowned. Every newsboy bag had a special pouch for coins, its sole purpose being not to lose the pennies and nickels. “Where’s your bag?”

“I lost that too,” Remy mumbled.

With those words, you immediately knew that he was lying. The first thing a newsboy learns is to not lose his bag. It holds his papers and earned money- the most important things in a newsboy's life. What didn’t help your suspicion was that every younger boy was paired with an older, tougher, more experienced one. You made sure of that early on, pestering Spot until he relented (to be truthful, Spot had caved easily). Someone should’ve been watching Remy. 

“Who was with you?” You asked him. “Was it Patches?” Remy nodded and you gave a nod back. “Okay, you stay here and eat your apple. I gotta go talk to Patches really quickly.”

“Okay!” Remy looked happier now that he was out of your scrutiny and concern.

You scanned the room, seeing Patches stretched out on a couch, listening to Cal read a book. You weaved through the boys, hopping over legs and stepping over arms. You loved your newsie family and you would do anything for them. The scene of everyone relaxing after a long day warmed your heart. You knew that these boys would do anything for you and each other. 

You sat down on Patches’s legs, making him groan and kick your side. “I come in peace,” you said. 

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “What’s up?”

“You sold with Remy today, right?” He nodded in confirmation. You continued, “did you see him lose his bag?”

“He lost his bag?” Patches sat up, now invested in the conversation. “He told me that he gave it to Crackers for safekeeping.”

“Crackers was selling on Clermont Street,” you said slowly. “Weren’t you guys selling by Hicks and Clark?” 

Patches nodded, watching the concern on your face grow. “When did he tell you this?” You felt like you were interrogating the poor boy, but at the same time, you needed to know what happened. 

“I know Remy had his bag at four thirty. I remember him coming up to me and telling me about a guy who paid him double. I didn’t see him again until five.” 

“I’m going to try and get him to tell me the truth,” you stated. “Thanks Patches.” 

“Anytime.” 

You went back to the kitchen, finding Remy sitting on the counter, eating the apple to the core. But, before you could make it to the small child, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Knowing there was only one boy who would dare do that, you relaxed into your boyfriend. 

“Hey, Spotty,” you said quietly. 

“Hey, doll,” Spot replied softly. “How was your day?”

“You were with me for most of it,” you pointed out, referencing how Spot only let you sell with him.

“Yeah, but I got pulled away at the end.” Indeed, Fisher had needed Spot’s help with something before the selling day had ended, leaving you alone to pawn off the last few of your papers.

“It was alright,” you turned in his arms, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “But I’m a bit worried for Remy.”

“Why? What happened?” Spot’s brows furrowed, getting that telltale expression that meant he was stepping back into his King of Brooklyn role.

“That’s the thing; I don’t know.” You explained, “Remy said he lost his selling bag, but Patches said Remy told him he gave it to Crackers for safekeeping. But I know Remy. The kid would never lose or give away his bag. You know how protective he is over it.”

“Cause he carries his teddy bear in it.” Spot nodded, ending your thoughts.

“Exactly.”

“So what do you think happened?” Spot asked you.

You sighed and began speaking, “a little while ago, Lemon came to me saying how a group of older thugs had stolen her bag. I had her sell with Slugger for a bit, and the problem went away. Do you think that the same thugs could’ve stolen Remy’s bag?”

Spot hummed, “you’ve certainly got a memory about you, doll. It’s definitely not a bad idea. I’ll go talk to Lemon and Slugger about it and you talk to Remy?” 

“Deal,” you agreed.

“Pleasure doing business with you, doll.” Spot smirked and pressed a kiss to your lips before sauntering off to find Lemon and Slugger.

You chuckled before turning back to Remy and handing the kid another apple. “You’re hungry,” you commented.

“Yeah…” Remy looked shyly away.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “We all pitch in to buy this food.” After a moment, you quietly said, “I know you didn’t lose your bag, Remy. What really happened?”

Remy didn’t meet your eye, giving a small shrug.

“Was it some boys?” You asked, “did they steal it from you? Like they did Lemon?”

Remy chewed on his lip, turning the apple over in his small hands. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “They cornered me and called me small and weak.” His fingers clenched into fists. “Then they stole my bag. It’s happened four times.”

“Four times?” You knelt down so you could meet his eye. “Remy, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because they said I couldn’t fight my own fight. I’d be proving them right if I told you,” Remy mumbled. 

You sighed, feeling terrible and squeezed the boy into a tight hug. “Remy,” You whispered. “Don’t be afraid to tell me anything. Especially if people are bullying you.”

“But what if they come back?” Remy wondered, “What if they do this again?” He lifted his shirt slightly to show you a large, ugly bruise. Immediately, a rage boiled in your chest and your jaw clenched. ���They did that?” You growled.

Remy nodded slowly, frightened by your change in demeanour.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down in front of the scared child. “It’s gonna be okay,” you told him. “We’re gonna get your money back from those boys and make them pay.” 

“Really? But how?”

You smiled stiffly, trying to disguise your hatred for the punks by a thinly veiled grin. “Don’t worry about that,” you said. “All you have to do is keep on selling.”

Remy’s head bobbed up and down happily. “Thank you so much, Y/n!” He hugged you tightly and you reciprocated the action. He then pulled away, his problem suddenly fixed and out of mind as only a six- year old could. 

Heart still burning with hatred for the thugs that messed with Remy, you knew it was now time to call upon the people who would stand by you no matter what- your newsies.

**

Remy cried out in his squeaky voice, “Read all about the car crash that killed dozens! Police are convinced it was murder!”

“Hello, squirt,” a deep voice laughed from behind Remy. “Sell any papers today?”

Remy gulped loudly and slowly turned around, gripping his bag tighter. “Wha-what do you guys want?”

“I think you know what we want,” the lead man growled, stepping up along with his group of ten or fifteen boys. 

“I-I’m not giving you my money!” Remy stomped his foot. 

“Oh really?” The leader laughed loudly. “What are you gonna do? Fight us?” The rest of the boys chuckled along with their leader.

“Well, no,” Remy admitted. “But this time, I have friends.” You stepped out from around a corner. 

The goons glanced around at one another before bursting out in short, loud, ugly guffaws. “I’m sorry?” The leader snickered out, “A girl is gonna beat us up?”

“I’m going to ignore your misogynistic comment, even though you probably don’t know what that word means, and even though I could kick your ass, just to scare you into never coming near Remy again, I brought my boyfriend. You may know him as the King of Brooklyn?” 

Spot, along with his cavalry of newsies appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Spot snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Where you messin’ with my doll?” He asked, knowing whichever way they answered, he was gonna soak either way.

“You looking for a fight?” The leader bit back. 

Spot shrugged, smirking. “Maybe. But I’ll let you off if you don’t come near my newsies again.”

One of the cronies grabbed the leader and whispered something harsh to him. The leader scoffed, but said, “Fine. We won’t bother your pathetic newsies again.” 

“And my girl?” Spot’s thumb drew circles on your waist.

“Never said anything about her,” the leader smiled tauntingly. 

You glanced at Spot to see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “Don’t,” you whisper to him. 

“Doll,” Spot drawled, swinging a look down at you, grinning brilliantly. “I have to.” And with that, Spot stepped forward and punched the leader across the jaw. The newsies cheered and rushed forward, intent on standing up for one of their own. The bullies quickly ran away after a few hits. You took Spot’s hand in yours and thumbed the split knuckles. Before you could chide him however, Spot simply said, “You know I love you.”

“Yeah,” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I do.”

[crazyk-imagine]

So What?

Pairings: Spot Conlon x Gender Neutral reader

Characters: Reader, Kid Blink, Jack Kelly, David Jacobs, Les Jacobs, Sarah Jacobs, Spot Conlon, Racetrack, Mush

Warnings: kissing (not a lot)

Word Count: 1,496

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I like him, so what?" You questioned Kid Blink.

He held his hands up in a defensive manner, "nothing, nothing. You two would be good together, that's all," he said with a smirk twitching at his lips.

You glared at him and he took off running which led to you chasing after him. "Blink, get back here!"

-

Jack, David, Les, Sarah, and Katherine were sitting at a table together.

David leaned towards Jack, "Is he gonna be okay?"

Jack nodded, "he'll be fine. Besides he was askin for it."

David slowly nodded, leaning back into his seat.

Medda walked towards the table, "where's (Y/N)?"

"Chasin Blink."

"Find her, I need her help."

"You got it Miss Medda."

Medda rolled her eyes, smiling as she walked away.

-

Kid Blink ran past the table, you were right behind him but you bumped into someone. Looking down you saw Spot, "sorry Spot. 'Scuse me."

He placed his hands on your hips, stopping you, "where do you think you're going?"

"I'm-" you stopped, looking up to see Kid Blink raising his brows in a suggestive way. You purse your lips, getting past Spot, ready to chase after Blink. He was out of your sight by the time Spot wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Let go, Spot," you whined, pushing on his arms.

"Not until you tell me why."

"Spot."

"No."

You frowned and stopped squirming, "fine. You can let go now."

He guided you towards a table away from the others but close to the stage. The two of you sat down. Spot's arm around the back of your chair, "subtly" pulling you closer.

You sighed before picking up the chair, moving it closer, practically laying on him. You glared at Kid Blink who was taking his time walking in front of the table.

He bent his head down, "don't you even think about it."

Your shoulders sagged, "I wasn't," you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Don't lie to me (Y/N)."

You pushed yourself off him, turning to look at him, "I'm not. So, stop bringing it up." You set your head on your hand, staring at the stage.

Spot sat up, one arm bent on the table, the other on your chair, "I'll stop bringing it up when you stop reactin."

You glanced over your shoulder, "well then you're gonna be waiting a while."

"I'll wait as long as it takes," he leaned against his chair, arm now draped across the back of your chair.

You shook your head, you tried to suppress a smile. You gasped, pushing your chair back, scaring Spot although he'd never admit it.

His arm fell off the chair.

You stood up when Spot's hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling back into your seat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I have to go help Medda before the show. I'll be back later," you placed your hands on his cheeks, pecking him on the lips before you got up and ran towards the back of the stage.

-

Spot blinked, trying to comprehend what happened, he knew but he couldn’t believe it.

Jack and Kid Blink started whistling and clapping.

Racetrack and a few other newsies walked towards Jack and Kid Blink. Racetrack walked towards the two, clapping, "why are we clappin?"

"Spot got his significant other." Race started clapping like a madman, "Atta boy! I knew you could do it!"

"Technically (Y/N) got him," Jack said.

"What?"

"Our boy here was chatting with em and-"

"they laid a wet one on 'im." Blink blurted, after he interrupted Jack.

Race shrugged, pulling out his cigar, "eh, they still got each other."

"You boys should take your seats, the show's about to start." Katherine advised.

-

"And now Miss Medda Larkins!"

"So your old lady don’t love you no more. So you’re afraid there’s a wolf at your door. So you’ve got street rats that scream in your ear." Medda began singing.

You stayed behind the stage, making sure everything's okay. Looking through the ropes, you glanced through the crowd and your eyes locked with Spots. Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned scarlet red when you realized what you did. You looked down at the rope, trying to distract yourself. <I>'Stupid. Why? Why did I do that?'<I>

Spot smirked when he saw your reaction.

-

Medda finished her song, walking backstage to fix her makeup. "Thank you again, (Y/N)."

"It's no problem Medda. What else do you need me to do?"

"Nothing. I'll be fine. Go sit at your table and enjoy the show."

You shook your head, "Oh I couldn't-"

"You are. I'll be fine."

"Are you-"

"Yes I'm sure. Now go."

You paused at the end of the stage, debating if you want to sit at Spot's table.

-

Before you knew it, you walked towards his table and sat down. You sat straight up, unsure of what you should do.

Spot wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You laid your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him.

-

Kid Blink tapped Jack's shoulder, catching the attention of the other newsies, they saw he was pointing at the two of you.

"It's gonna happen. Pay up Mush," Race whispered.

"No, we don't even know what's going on between those two. For all we know they could be talkin."

-

"That was a hell of a surprise earlier," he whispered, not really paying attention to Medda singing.

You didn't look at him, "I don't know what you're talking about?"

His lips twitched into a smirk, "I think you do. I gotta say it was enjoyable, although it wasn't nearly as long as I had hoped."

Your brows knitted together, tilting your head you glanced up at him, "what?"

“I want to do that again but longer.”

“Really?”

“‘Course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged, “didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“You’re in for a big surprise.”

“Am I now?” you teased, sitting up right.

Spot pouted, "come back here."

"Spot," you placed your hand on top of his.

Once he realized you were serious, he straightened himself in the chair, flipping his hand over so he could rub circles on the back of your hand. "Something you want to tell me?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do know. You have a lot going on in that pretty little head if yours."

You rolled your eyes, "maybe."

"It's not maybe if I'm right."

You huffed, "alright fine. Maybe I want to know what- what we'd be."

He raised a brow, "you sure got a way of sayin things little sweetheart."

"I am anything but little to you."

"Maybe but you're still my little sweetheart."

"Who said I want to be your little sweetheart?"

"You don't want to be my significant other?" He stopped rubbing this thumb on your hand, hurt by what you said.

"Oh, I want to be your significant other but I don't want to be your little sweetheart."

"Too bad because if you're mine, you're my little sweetheart."

"Then I guess I'm your little sweetheart," you gave him a peck on the cheek, "only if you're my spotty boy," you said with a mischievous grin.

Spot shook his head, "You're not calling me that." He leaned back against the chairs, one arm on the back of yours.

You scooted closer, laying on him, head on his shoulder. You angled your head to look at him. "That's not fair. I should be able to call you something cute that you say you don't like but secretly love."

He turned his attention onto you, "so you do like your nickname."

You shook your head, "that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"I want to call you something cute," you pout. "Fine if you don't want me to call you Spotty boy, what about... Spotty... Spots... Spotter... Sposter... Spooter... Spoot... Spoter..."

Spot had enough of the embarrassing nicknames. He knew you wouldn’t stop until he did something. He pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger, catching your attention. Bending his head down, he kissed you.

You closed your eyes, cupping his cheek as you began to kiss him back.

-

"Still think they're just "talking."

Mush pursed his lips, grumbling under his breath, "fine," he stuck his hand in his pocket pulling out a dime.

"You won, happy now?"

"Happy now," Race mimicked, "'Course I am. I won the bet. Gotta go find the other lovers and get paid."

Mush rolled his eyes, shoving his friend’s shoulder.

-

You and Spot stopped kissing to catch your breath. "That was something wasn't it, Spotty boy."

"You're not gonna call me anything else are you?"

You shook your head, "no."

He rolled his eyes, kissing the top of your head. "You know you never officially asked me to be your significant other."

"Okay, will you finally be my significant other?"

"I don't know. That seems like something you should have asked earlier but I suppose I can make an exception."

[talesofnox]

FANDOM LIST

THESE ARE THE FANDOMS AND CHARACTERS (AND SHIPS) I WILL WRITE FOR!

THERE WILL BE PLATONIC AND FAMILIAL SHIPS AND THEY WILL BE SPECIFIED! NO INCEST OF ANY TYPE IS PERMITTED IN MY REQUEST BOX!

I SUPPORT ANY TYPE OF SHIP (GAY / LESBIAN / LGBTQ+) SO REQUEST AWAY!

FOR ANY REASON, if a fandom or character (is)...

CROSSED OUT! I no longer write for the fandom or character.

HAS A “☆” NEXT TO IT! It is one of my favorite fandoms or characters to write for.

Without further ado, here are the lists (IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER)

CRIMINAL MINDS

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

☆ SPENCER REID

DEREK MORGAN

PENELOPE GARCIA

EMILY PRENTISS

JENNIFER “JJ” JAREAU

BAU TEAM

SHIPS / PLATONIC

SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN

MASTERLIST

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

CONNOR

HANK

GENERAL CHARACTERS (POLICE, ETC)

SHIPS / PLATONIC

N/A

MASTERLIST

GLEE

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST

MIKE CHANG

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

GENERAL CHARACTERS (NEW DIRECTIONS, WARBLERS, ETC)

SHIPS / PLATONIC

N/A

HARRY POTTER

GOLDEN ERA:

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

HARRY POTTER

HERMIONE GRANGER

RON WEASLEY

GINNY WEASLEY

FRED WEASLEY

GEORGE WEASLEY

WEASLEY TWINS

PERCY WEASLEY

CHARLIE WEASLEY

WILLIAM “BILL” WEASLEY

SEAMUS FINNEGAN

DEAN THOMAS

☆ NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

CEDRIC DIGGORY

OLIVER WOOD

GOLDEN TRIO

WEASLEY FAMILY

SHIPS / PLATONIC

SEAMUS FINNEGAN X DEAN THOMAS

OLIVER WOOD X PERCY WEASLEY

MARAUDERS ERA

X OC / READER (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

JAMES POTTER

LILY EVANS

REMUS LUPIN

SIRIUS BLACK

(YOUNG) PETER PETTIGREW

MARLENE MCKINNON

DORCAS MEADOWES

FABIAN PREWETT

GIDEON PREWETT

PREWETT TWINS

SHIPS / PLATONIC

JAMES POTTER X LILY EVANS

REMUS LUPIN X SIRIUS BLACK

MARLENE MCKINNON X DORCAS MEADOWES

MASTERLIST

LES MISERABLES

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

ENJOLRAS

COURFEYRAC

GRANTAIRE

EPONINE

GAVROCHE

BARRICADE BOYS

SHIPS / PLATONIC

ENJOLRAS X GRANTAIRE

MASTERLIST

MARVEL (AVENGERS)

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

TONY STARK

STEVE ROGERS

STONY

BUCKY BARNES

STUCKY

SAM WILSON

NATASHA ROMANOFF

PIETRO MAXIMOFF

PETER PARKER

TEAM CAP

AVENGERS

SHIPS / PLATONIC

STUCKY

STONY

MASTERLIST

MAZE RUNNER (SCORCH TRIALS / DEATH CURE)

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

THOMAS

NEWT

☆ MINHO

WINSTON

GALLY

ZART

JEFF

CLINT

CHUCK

GLADER BOYS

SHIPS / PLATONIC

THOMAS X NEWT

THOMAS X MINHO

JEFF X CLINT

MASTERLIST

☆ MERLIN

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

MERLIN

ARTHUR PENDRAGON

SIR LEON

SIR ELYAN

SIR LANCELOT

SIR PERCIVA;

SIR GWAINE

GUINEVERE

MORGANA PENDRAGON

MORDRED

KNIGHTS

MERLIN CAST

SHIPS / PLATONIC

MERLIN X ARTHUR PENDRAGON

☆ MERLIN X SIR GWAINE

☆ MERLIN X LANCELOT

MERLIN X LEON

PERCIVAL X GWAINE

MORGANA X GWEN

ROUND TABLE X MERLIN

ROUND TABLE X FEM!MERLIN

MASTERLIST

NATIONAL TREASURE

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

☆ RILEY POOLE

BEN GATES

ABIGAIL CHASE

TRIO

SHIPS / PLATONIC

N/A

MASTERLIST

☆ NEWSIES (MOVIE OR MUSICAL - SPECIFY)

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

JACK KELLY

DAVID “DAVEY” JACOBS

CRUTCHIE(Y) MORRIS

LES JACOBS

SARAH JACOBS

KATHERINE PLUMBER

RACETRACK HIGGINS

SPOT CONLON

ALBERT DASILVA

☆ ROMEO

MUSH MEYES

BUTTONS DAVENPORT

ELMER KAZPRZAK

HENRY

JOJO DE LA GUERRA

☆ SKITTERY

TUMBLER

FINCH CORTEZ

SNIPESHOOTER

BOOTS

SMALLS (MALE OR FEMALE)

OSCAR DELANCEY

MORRIS DELANCEY

NEWSIES

SHIPS / PLATONIC

JACK KELLY X DAVID JACOBS

JACK KELLY X KATHERINE PLUMBER

SARAH JACOBS X KATHERINE PLUMBER

RACETRACK HIGGINS X SPOT CONLON

SPOT CONLON X SARAH JACOBS

MASTERLIST

THE SANDLOT

X READER / OC (SPECIFY IN REQUEST)

BENNY RODRIGUEZ

SCOTTY SMALLS

MICHAEL “SQUINTS” PALLEDOROUS

ALAN “YEAH-YEAH” MCCLENNAN

SANDLOT BOYS

SHIPS / PLATONIC

BENNY RODRIGUEZ / SCOTTY SMALLS

MASTERLIST

Enjoy this list and make requests if you please. I would love to write more often than I do, so please help me out!

[clairecrive]

1k congrats, could I make a request for Tommy Conlon I love the way you write him. Y/n lives in the same apartment building as him and obviously has a crush on him but would never think he would be interested in her. He is actually really into y/n but whenever he hints at anything she shys away. They become friendly and she is out on a girls night and he is in the same bar. Her 'friend' knows how she feels about him but is all over him like a rash. He sees her talking to a man and feels kind of rejected and kisses her "friend" in the bar and she sees. She is gutted and leaves early saying she is tired. He follows her saying he doesn't want her to walk home on her own he knows she is hurt and that he made a mistake. if you can come up with a smutty ending for them that would be the icing on the cake

Hottie next door

a/n: hi ya! thank you so much for requesting! This turned out a full imagine so you’ll find everything under the cut. Hope you like it x

Word count: 1.1k

Tag: mention of smut, fluff, mild angst

"Shit, shit, shit," were the words y/n had been repeating like a mantra since her alarm went off that morning. Well- since she woke up and looking at the time on her phone realizing then that her alarm hadn't got off and she was now going to be late for work, actually.

Rushing out of her apartment, after throwing some clothes and barely eating breakfast, she took the stairs knowing that if she had to wait for the elevator she'd be even more late.

The elevator in her building was incredibly old and besides not working well, it had manual doors that you had to open and close. Since they were heavy, most of the people in the building had troubles closing them meaning that the elevator signalled that it had someone inside when really it was just the doors that weren't closed.

It was annoying on a normal day and even more now that she was late and barely awake but she knew that at some point she'd be grateful for the exercise.

What you were sure you'd never be grateful for was the fact that your poor excuse of an elevator brought you to almost smash into your hot neighbour. He luckily caught you just in time before you'd inevitably crashed into him so that at least wasn't a problem.

What was definitely a problem was your dishevelled appearance and how your faces were uncomfortably close and you weren't wearing any makeup.

"Wow, what's on fire?"

"Sorry Tommy, I'd love to stay here and chat but I'm late for work. See ya." y/n hurriedly said looking over her shoulder just to say goodbye to him without coming off as rude but not staying enough to see his reaction to her.

I'd love to stay here and chat? What was that? When the hell have you stayed and chat with him?

That's basically how she spent the time to get to work, chastising herself.

So when her coworker Deborah, asked her if she'd like to meet for drinks that evening she said yes without missing a beat.

Walking into the bar later that night and realizing that her latest crush, otherwise known as the hottie next door Tommy, was there too, made her rethink her decision.

Maybe she shouldn't have come, she thought.

You can't exactly forget an embarrassing situation when the reason for your embarrassment was standing a few feet away, can you?

Then, when she saw her dear friend Debby setting her eyes on Tommy and went to him, she was sure that she had to stay home.

She knows that having a crush on someone that you don't know that well is a bit childish. Yes, she and Tommy saw each other every day and often exchanged pleasantries but that was that. Just two neighbours being nice and polite to each other.

She also knows that she shouldn't this bothered by her friend flirting with him and him showing interest in her.

Sure, Debby was funny and nice but they weren't that close. And she was attractive so who was she to blame Tommy for having eyes?

No one.

Of course, she was none the wiser of Tommy's discomfort or how his conversation with Deborah was one-sided. Not only the straightforward way she came onto him put him on the spot but the fact that he had seen you come in and felt that he was sending you the wrong message.

But how could he let someone down without hurting them?

Y/n also ignored the way he tensed when Debby touched his arm or how his eyes narrowed when he heard you burst out laughing at something one of your coworkers said.

Laughing at someone's joke doesn't mean shit, Tommy reassured himself. Besides, he had no claim on y/n what so ever and he was in a conversation with Deborah instead of going to say hi to her.

He knew he had to find a way to send her on her way and when he saw y/n making her way out of the bar, he had the perfect excuse.

Or maybe not but it wasn't like he cared or anything. He probably won't see this girl again and he certainly hoped so.

"Hey y/n, wait up", he called after her mainly to alter her of his presence. He was athletic and reached her in no time but he didn't want to scare her.

"Oh Tommy, hi" clearing her throat, y/n turned around to face him. Her voice trembled a little and under the nightlight, Tommy could see that her eyes were glossy. They did not shine the way they would if she was inebriated.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, no I'm not feeling that well so I'm heading home."

"Well, let me accompany you then. You shouldn't walk alone at this hour."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother you. I'm sure Deborah is waiting for you inside."

"You know her?"

"Coworker."

"Ah," he hummed shuffling on his feet, "well I'm not sure about her but I wasn't enjoying myself all that much so I'm heading home too."

"You weren't?" y/n sounded surprised, not that Tommy could blame her.  "Could have fooled me", she mumbled under her breath but he heard her anyway.

"Yeah well, the girl I'd want to talk to is going home so I guess I am too." Scratching his chin, he offered without meeting her eyes.

This was the most they had spoken since they first met and oh boy, it was going better than in her wildest dreams.

"Well, in that case, I'm sure she'd not oppose to you coming home with her."

His eyes snapped to her then, never would he have thought that she'd so forward and cheeky but you'd never hear him complain, that was for sure.

"You won't hear me complain either," he assured wetting his lips. Maybe it was the bad illumination but y/n was sure that she'd seen his eyes darken and oh my god, she could thinking nothing but getting him home as soon as possible.

She couldn't tell how long they took or how they even got home. All she knew was the firm pressure of his lips on hers, their unexpected softness, their rough fingers snatching her keys from her hands and quickly opening the door before pushing her against it once it was closed.

As the night progressed, y/n couldn't help but feel grateful to have gone out to that bar. Who would have thought that one night out would have such an impact?

tagging : @sopxhiea, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @fuseburner

[heliads]

Spot Conlon Masterlist

Cloudy Days - Based on this request: “spot conlon with a gn brooklyn newsie reader? reader’s nickname is sunshine because they’re super cheerful. spot’s gruff with them because he finds it grating when as newsies they live the way they do. he snaps at them and tells them to quit being so weird and happy, but then they do and it makes him realize that he’s relied on seeing their smile every day” Imagine

Breaking, Falling - Based on this request: “spot conlon x reader where they're really good friends but she sees him getting chummy with another girl (only to sell a pape but she doesnt know that). she becomes distant and when he confronts her, feelings come out” Imagine

Out Of My League - Based on this request: “spot conlon x reader where the reader is from a wealthier family and is a little hesitant or resistant to spot at first (maybe they meet because reader wants to buy a pape) but slowly opens up to spot and all that?” Imagine

Of All the People - Based on this request: “Spot Conlon x reader where the reader runs into Spot two days before they go to the newsies lodging house for a new job? Kinda like an enemies to lovers” Imagine

Dating Childhood Friend Spot Conlon Would Include... Headcanons

A Questioning - You’re a journalist in Manhattan, just like your best friend, Katherine Pulitzer. You’ve also been sent to interview the Brooklyn newsies when a certain Spot Conlon catches your eye. Imagine

More Than Just That - (92sies Spot Conlon) You walk a fine line between falling in love with Spot and reminding yourself that you’re still only a friend to him. After a fight, however, you may get a better idea as to how he truly feels about you. Imagine

Arguments and Abandonment -  After a fight causes you to leave Brooklyn and your childhood friend Spot Conlon behind, you decide to trade your old life for Manhattan and try to forget the whole thing. However, your feelings about Spot can’t stay in the past forever, especially when you’re forced to return to Brooklyn once again. Imagine

Prince - Spot’s surprised to find that Brooklyn has a new newsie joining its ranks, a boy he calls Prince who came to his turf from Queens. The only problem is that there may be more to Prince than meets the eye, like the fact that he isn’t a boy but instead Jack Kelly’s sister who ran away from Manhattan. Imagine

Visits to Brooklyn - When Y/N’s older brother Jack Kelly makes her go to Brooklyn to ask Spot Conlon for a favor, she expects the worst. What she finds, however, is a secret she’ll happily keep. Imagine

Angel (Part 1) (Part 2) - Spot Conlon fell in love with you because of your beautiful voice. What will happen when he finds out it’s all because of a dare from Jack Kelly? Multi-Part Imagine