#racetrack x reader

[amoreva]

yipee!!! i’ll get on my knees and beg for any newsie you wanna write about (but im partial to albert + race) x reader where the reader is a working girl (but not a newsie) and he starts flirting with her when he sells her papers, and the reader believes it/thinks he likes her but then finds him doing the same with a richer girl, maybe one the reader has always been jealous of !!! and she starts avoiding him until he grovels for forgiveness or something idk but like angsty hurt/comfort

MANHATTAN'S FLIRT

pairing: racetrack higgins x seamstress!reader

summary: in which you find yourself falling for manhattan's flirt

warnings: fluff, slight angst, jealousy, comparison

author’s note: oh how I miss writing for Race, happy holidays gift from me to the fandom

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You've been at this for hours.

Hunched over your desk, mending, hemming, and sewing anything and everything that is put down in front of you. You're certain your posture has been horrific this entire shift. Your hands cramp from running fabric under the sewing machine. You're pretty sure that if you have to use a sewing needle again, you are going to drive it through your finger. Overall, today had not been a good shift.

Thank the heavens it is over.

Oranges, pinks, and purples paint the Manhattan Sky. The walk back home is simple, quiet. It's enough to make you forget your fingers are raw and irritated from sewing and pinning. It's almost enough to make you forget to buy a newspaper for your father. Usually, your father would get it in the morning before his shift at the docks, but he was currently ill with a fever.

Reprimanding yourself, you swivel your head to find a newsie. You could only pray they hadn't left yet.

Turning the corner and speed walking down one block, you thankfully find a newsie who was still shouting headlines.

"Extra! Extra! Double Face Man Anomaly!" The boy shouted, waving a newspaper clipping in the air. Tuffs of blonde hair poked out of his cap. There was a cigar tucked in his shirt pocket.

"Excuse me?

He whipped his head around. A smile spread across his face. "Evening, doll. Need something?" His New York accent was thick.

"Just one paper, please." You responded politely and fished out some change in your bag.

"Oh! No need, doll. Your beautiful face is enough payment." The newsie smirked, tipping his cap and handing you the newspaper.

Your cheeks grew red-hot, and suddenly you were sputtering. Never in your life have you met someone so bold. The newsie noticed your reaction. He swapped the coin in your hand with a newspaper. He tossed the coin back into your bag. "Why--why...thank you!" You mustered.

"I should be thanking you!" The newsie grinned. "Blessing me with a view of you. I could die happy."

You were practically a tomato. Now, sure, you had men compliment you at the shop, but you were too focused on stitching and such. Here, where you couldn't hide behind your fabric and patchwork. You were a doozy. It didn't help that he was sorta cute.

"Name's Race. Racetrack Higgins." What an odd name.

You sputtered out yours. "Well, doll. I hope to see you again. I'll be here tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that--business is good here. And if I get to see you everyday, even better"

With that, Race picked up his few remaining newspapers and left. You let out a meek "Okay. " This is how you end up seeing Race for a little bit every day. Sometimes, during your lunch break, before your shift, or after your shift (sometimes multiple times a day, which was the best). You practically volunteer to buy the daily newspaper for your father, despite his preference to read the news in the morning.

This was just any other day. You left your stuffy workplace to enjoy your lunch break, and lo and behold, a certain blonde newsie was sitting on your bench. His hand ruffled his curls as if trying to make them look decent when he spotted you walking over.

"Hiya, doll!" He grinned cheekily

"How are you?" You asked politely and sat down. Though you were freaking out (in a good way) on the inside.

"Abso-tootin wonderful. I sold most of my papers before lunch. The sun is beaming, and you could knock me out for just talking with that sweet voice." Race explained. "Ain't nothing better."

"Well, of course, but I beg to differ." You spoke steadily. "I think your company is better."

Race raised his eyebrows in surprise. He tugged off his hat and held his chest as if he had been shot. Dramatizing the gesture, he fell on the sidewalk. "Ah, I've been shot! The girl of my dreams flirted back!" Race wailed jokingly. "Cupid spare me!"

You matched his expression before bursting out in fits of laughter. Your cheeks are growing warmer. Race didn't smirk. He smiled with something softer. He's proud of making you laugh. This had been the routine for the past week. You'd come out, enjoy your lunch, and the much-wanted company. He flirted, and you tried to flirt back. Well, this time you came out triumphant.

"Here." You tossed him an apple. You began packing a little extra for these little lunch rendezvous.

"An angel, dare I say." Race spoke. "Feeding the poor."

He bit into the apple, grateful to have something in his stomach, when he noticed your fingers. They were red and tender, probably from sewing all day and night. He wasn't an idiot. Concern laced his eyebrows. He knows what it's like. Working to the bone for a little cash. You enjoy your lunch, oblivious to his concern. You'v learn to just suck it up and keep going.

"Trade ya', doll." Race set a small tin container. Your face asked what was inside as you swallowed your sandwich. "Ointment, or--uh...salve of some kind. I don't know. I use it or paper cuts and some scraps, thought it might help you."

He's avoiding your eyes. The tips of his ears are red. "Oh..." You sputtered, taking the tin. He noticed your hands. "Thank you. I usually just ignore it, but really...I appreciate it."

There is an awkward, but not too awkward, silence as you put the salve on. Neither of you knows what to say from there. Going back to flirting seems wrong, so you enjoy each other's company in this quiet. The salve magically works, like a protectant for your hands. A thought makes you worry about it damaging fabrics or making it harder to sew, but another thought is screaming at you the kiss Race. Thank him properly for his kindness.

"You can keep it." Race stood up, tossing the core of the apple over his shoulder. "I got plenty back at the Lodging."

He doesn't, but he doesn't care.

Once again, you're speechless. The tin of salve is clasped tightly in your hands. Oh, this boy might be the death of you.

You mustered up the courage to listen to the forefront thought. A meek "thank you" escaped your lips as you kissed his cheek. You quickly dahs back into your workplace before you could see his reaction.

And man, you had him speechless for the first time, sputtering like a fish aching for water.

Oh, you might be the death of him.

You get back to your desk, riding the high of your adrenaline. That's when you realize. You forgot to buy a paper for your father. Reprimanding yourself silently, you hoped Race was still selling by the time you got off your shift.

After the rest of your agonizing shift (thank god you didn't get any salve on the fabrics), you rush out of the building to find Race. Your body is relieved from not being in such a hunched position at your desk any longer. Turning a corner and running down a block, you see the familiar newsie talking to a girl. You slow down.

The girl is laughing, tucking her hair behind her ear. She's beaming, smiling, and Race had that stupid, charming smile. The one he always had after flirting with you. The girl is pretty. She's rich, too. You can tell from the clothes she wears.

Suddenly, you find yourself not needing a paper anymore. An envy of hurt brewing in your heart. You felt like a fool. Of course, he flirts. It's how he can make money to survive. The tin of salve felt heavier in your pocket. It's stupid to be upset, but it was blissful ignorance. It was nice knowing he might've actually enjoyed your company. You turn on your heels and head home.

Race caught a glimpse of your coat, but he shook it off, handing the rich girl a paper. It was probably his imagination.

From that day forward, your father began getting his daily newspaper in the morning. He was a little peeved that he didn't get his daily news that night. You take your lunch on the box in the back alley rather than the bench. It's stupid to be upset, but you don't know if you can face him after seeing him flirt with another girl. And Race? He's wondering where you are.

This goes on for a week. You thought he might've given up and gone about his life. It would've been easier on your heart, but there he was: waiting outside your workplace when you got off.

You tried to leave, but it was too late. He spotted you. "Hey, doll!" He greeted, catching up next to you.

"I have to go."

"Go?" Race stopped, before matching your pace. "Go where? You need your paper for your father, right?"

"No. Now leave me alone." The memories from that day are bubbling up jealousy and anger in your heart.

The newsie furrowed his eyebrows as you continued walking, leaving him in the dust. Suddenly, you were pulled back and spun around to face Race. His eyes were full of a mix of sadness and confusion.

"Did I--did I do something? I mean...I haven't seen ya' in a week, darling." Race asked. The vulnerability in his tone made you wanna quit this foolishness. "Kinda hurting my heart over here."

"No." You croaked out. "It's nothing. My father doesn't need me to get the paper anymore.

You began walking away, knowing you'd cave if you stayed any longer. But, Race, the stubborn bastard, chased you. It'd been keeping him up for days. It affected his selling because every minute he was thinking of what he could've done to drive you away.

"Darling--" Race caught your arm again. He boldly intertwined his hand with yours. "Please...I miss your company. I'm sorry if I did anything to offend ya' or if I said the wrong thing or if I overstepped boundaries--"

"Am I just another game to you?" The outburst came to a surprise to him and you.

"What? No, no--never!"

"Well, it sure felt like it when I saw you flirting with someone else." You huffed, crossing your arms. You did it to hug yourself rather than seem intimidating. "I felt like an idiot when I saw you and that rich girl."

Race's face fell into realization. Oh. He did see you that day. He wasn't dreaming. "Darling..." He paused, not sure what to say. Race wiped his hand on his pants to get rid of the dirt and grime. He wasn't good with words, but he was a man of action.

You looked up at him with glassy eyes when his lips suddenly met yours. His lips were chapped, but it didn't matter. The butterflies in your stomach made your head dizzy. When he pulled back, you were at a loss for words. Race seemed to realize and figured he overstepped.

Apologies tumbled out of his mouth, then he began rambling in a panic. "Oh--shit. I'm so sorry. That might not have been the right decision, but god, doll, I really like ya'. Cupid shot me with that damn arrow, and I just. I really like ya. That rich girl was just so I could eat and--I'm sorry that I made you feel like that. But, I don't want to lose the only good thing that makes me get up in the morning to do my job."

You registered his words after a moment. Your face is heating up so quickly that a strawberry could be your sister. The boy you developed a crush on kissed you? Oh god, when did you die and go to heaven? To save yourself from embarrassment, you bury your head into his shoulder. His panic ceased. Race hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

"I swear on everything good, I don't like that girl, and I wasn't using you." Race mumbled as the sunset began to fade. "Please, believe me."

You two stay like that until the street lights blink on. Race is left wondering, and you are focused on making your face less red. "I believe you." Race pulled back and looked at you, but you were avoiding his eyes.

"Do you like--"

"Yes. I do."

More silence.

"Can I walk ya' home?"

"Yes, you can."

He began dragging you in some direction. A guess at where your home might be, and when you look at him weirdly, he lets you do the leading. You finally look over at Race, who is already staring at you. A wide grin on his face, like he just won the lottery. You quickly look away and hear him laugh.

And from that moment forward, Race would never let you think he was into another girl again.

[a103-chris-mm]

Newsies Band Au

newsies band au (newsies x reader)

full au is on my wattpad account - (Hypno Spikes ~ Newsies Band Au) account evangelinesmother15

Anthony "Racetrack" Higgins

played by Ben Cook

Senior

guitarist of Hypno Spikes

race lives with his adoptive parents and little sister

Albert "Al" DaSilva

played by Sky Flaherty

Senior

drummer of Hypno Spikes

albert lives with his mom and his older brother; his other older brother is away for college

Amador "Romeo" Montague

played by Nico DeJesus

Senior

keyboardist of Hypno Spikes

romeo lives with his very carefree parents; one mom and one dad

Patrick "Finch" Cortes

played by Iain Young

Senior

bassist for Hypno Spikes

finch lives with his uncle who isn't a very good guardian

"Spike"

Senior

future lead singer of Hypno Spikes

spike lives with her two moms; one works as a magician 

not everything is exactly gonna be right as you can tell by small facts. id suggest going to my wattpad to read it but if you dont have it and are interested in reading it still and want me to put it on here just let me know.

ask if you wanna be tagged

taglist; @sturnskiss

[mayo-advance-sp]

On the Hallway Floor

Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Description: You had been stupid to think that a guy would ask you out simply because he wanted to go out with you. But knowing that you could never have Race, your best friend, left you trying to get over him, and maybe taking another man to the Spring Formal was the solution.

A/N: I like this a lot more than I thought I would. I don't think anyone is gonna read Newsies self insert in the year of our Lord 2026, but this is really for myself and I hope that if one other person enjoys it that itll be worth it.

Word Count: 3.1K

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Albert called your name, “Are you going to the formal with anyone?”

You pretended to ponder your next move in Monopoly, trying to ignore how everyone else in the dorm had gone completely still as they waited for your reply.

The spring formal was a tradition that your university had been doing for years. It wasn’t as fancy as a high school prom, but people liked to pull out their old prom dresses and suits, and go for a night of dancing. It wasn’t nearly as romantic as it sounded, usually having threadbare decorations and low quality catered food. But there was some charm to a night out with your friends.

Unlike Prom, it wasn’t a necessity to have a date, most girls you knew were just going in groups. Some people did use it as an opportunity to get a date, or to talk to a girl or guy that they had been wanting to talk to, but Albert would have no reason to think anyone had gone out of their way to ask you. You had not been in a relationship since arriving at college, prioritizing your friends over the idea of romance.

It didn’t help that you’d been hung up on Racetrack Higgins since the moment you’d met him at freshman orientation. You had been planning on lying low, just allowing yourself to get used to college before being so bold as to approach anyone, maybe making friends in some clubs or within your major. But that plan had immediately been ruined when a boy with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes sat next to you for the opening presentation and began talking immediately. He wasn’t hindered by your immediate shyness, asking you where you were from and what your major was and all the usual “we are at college and I have just met you” questions. You had scolded yourself at the time for immediately being enamored by his careless grin, easy laugh, and the way his eyes shone when he looked at you, as if you were someone worth talking to.

You expected him to fade into the rest of the student body after orientation, this was by no means a small school, but somehow Race just kept appearing, walking next to you on your way to class, striking up conversation as you studied in the library, and inviting you to sit with him and his friends at lunch. Before long, his friends had become your friends, and Race had become a constant in your life. At this point you weren’t hesitant to call him your best friend.

To this day you had yet to tell him how you felt. Part of you thought that you never would. What you had now was comfortable, and made you happy. And if sometimes you wanted to hold him so bad that it made you ache, or if sometimes you wished to be the girls that he sometimes brought around after the first or second date, you’d never mention it. Race wore his heart on his sleeve, and surely if he had any feelings for you, he would’ve acted by now, he wasn’t the type to hide.

Jack said your name, “Are you going to answer the question?” he was grinning, clocking your hesitance.

You felt your face flush with a slight embarrassment. The one awkward thing about having mostly guy friends was telling them any details about your nonexistent love life. Usually, you reserved such talks for Katherine. Not that you’d told her this anyways.

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, “Yeah, a guy asked me a couple of days ago”. Which was true.

The group guffawed at you, in all their time knowing you, you had never ever brought up even being interested in a guy, let alone engaging with one. You noticed Race’s eyebrows go up in surprise as he and Albert exchanged a glance.

“Guys, is it really that ridiculous that a guy is actually interested in me for once?” You scowled at them. This is why you hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

Jack held his hands up, looking amused, “You’ve just never mentioned any guy before. Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know him that well, I just see him in econ sometimes. He said he thought I was pretty and asked if I wanted to go with him. And seeing as nobody else asked me, I said yes.”

Race’s eyebrows furrowed, and you fought the urge to justify yourself further. You didn’t have to make excuses to your friends on why you said yes to a guy. It’s not like Race, or anyone else would have asked you anyways.

Albert looked at you smirking, but the look in his eyes revealed that he was confused, “You mean to say that you said yes to the first guy who asked you simply because he asked?”

You looked back down at the board game. “It’s not like this happens to me a lot… or at all.” You took your next turn in the game, aware that they were all still looking at you. You did not notice Jack and Albert looking at Race, or the clear disappointment on his face.

“Well at least tell us who the lucky fella is.” Race said neutrally.

“I don’t know if any of you would know him. His name is Oscar.”

The three boys all recoiled in varying levels of shock and disgust, as if your words had hurt them personally.

“Delancey?” Albert’s voice had gotten louder and gone up a pitch.

You looked between them, confused, “Yeah?” You watched Jack rub his face with his hands, “Did he kill someone’s dog or something? He seemed just fine in class?”

Jack sighed, saying your name with exasperation, “He’s just not a good guy.”

“Why, what did he do?”

Race’s jaw tightened, “He and his brother are total jackasses. There is no way he asked you out of the goodness of his heart.”

Shame and anger riled up in your chest. The one time a guy had shown any interest in you, and your friends had to act like you were going to a dance with the devil incarnate. You had never even heard them mention Oscar or his brother before this, so whatever gripe they had must not have been important enough to bring up to you before this point.

“You guys could at least pretend to be happy for me,” you snapped, “Clearly whatever drama you have with him wasn’t noticeable enough for me to care. He seems nice enough, and unlike any other man at this school, he actually asked me to go with him.” You were seething, any reasonable thinking thrown out the window.

The boys looked uncomfortable at your anger, but it didn’t stop Race from continuing, “Look. They went to a high school near us, none of the news we ever heard about them was ever good”. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He looked concerned and frustrated, which he probably was, but there was something in his tone, or was it his eyes, that you couldn’t read.

You scowled at him nonetheless, “Well maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear then.” With that you got to your feet and began gathering your scattered belongings. Couldn’t Race, or any of them, at least pretend to be happy about this? Apparently not. Apparently, they were so soured by old high school rumors that they couldn’t take your word about how he’d treated you.

You pretended to ignore them looking between each other as you got your shoes on. Before any of them had time to figure out what to say next, you were reaching for the door. “I’ll see you guys there tomorrow.” And with that you were walking home, hurt and bittered by their reactions. But beyond that, you felt apprehensive.

You tried to reassure yourself. You were meeting him at a public place, so clearly he wasn’t planning anything that wouldn’t be witnessed by a crowd. Race was just being dramatic, which you knew he had a tendency to do.

You shook off the memory of that strange look in his eyes, and you carried on home.

Which led you to where you were now. Sitting in a dark, empty hallway alone. Crying.

The great thing about friends is that they want to look after you. The horrible thing about you is that sometimes you are stubborn and you don’t listen, and despite their warnings, you end up shocked when bad things happen.

The night had started out fine. You had dressed yourself up, reveling in how good it felt to look good, and you had met Oscar at the venue. He had smiled and told you that you were gorgeous. The meal had gone fine, you met his brother and a couple other random friends of theirs who had sat at the same table. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your friends across the venue, if you had you would’ve seen Race trying desperately to catch your eye.

After the meal had finished, the Delancey brothers excused themselves for a drink. They stood at the table for long enough that you eventually followed. And that’s where it all feel apart.

They were laughing – no cackling – to themselves, and you heard between them the words “date” and “bet”, and you felt your heart sink in your chest. Oscar looked over at you, a smile still on his face, and then back to his brother. He muttered something about “too easy” and you didn’t need to hear anymore to realize what they were laughing about. You tore away from them as fast as you could, getting yourself lost down some random hallway as tears pricked your eyes.

Of course, your friends were right. Of course, no guy would ask you out simply because he wanted to. Of course nobody would want you in that way. How stupid could you be to assume otherwise? Now you had spent the night apart from your friends where you could’ve been dancing and having fun.

You had made a complete fool of yourself.

You did all that you had left to do, you sank to the floor, put your head in your knees, and you cried.

It took you a moment to register the sound of footsteps approaching you quickly. You kept your face buried in your knees, hoping that maybe whoever it was would get the hint and leave you alone. They did not. You heard the footsteps slow and eventually stop next to you, and you heard the rustling of clothes as they sat next to you.

You dared to take a glance, and saw Race sitting next to you, looking at the wall in front of him. He noticed your glance, and took it as an opportunity to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

The gentle gesture was enough to send more tears streaming down your face, and you allowed yourself to lean into him as you quietly sobbed. The two of you remained there for a long time, the only sound breaking the silence being your sobs. Once your tears had subsided, you took a timid breath.

“You were right.”

Race glanced sideways at you before looking back to the wall in front of him. “

“I didn’t want to be.”

Race went silent. From the position you were in, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking as the two of you sat in that dark, empty hallway. Was he mad? He surely had to be, that’s what best friends were supposed to feel. Or maybe he was hurt that you hadn’t believed him the first time. But Race he didn’t make any move to speak.

“It was just nice, y’know?” You croaked, “to feel like somebody wanted me in that kind of way. That doesn’t happen a lot.” It felt pathetic to admit it, especially to Racetrack Higgins, your best friend, and the boy you had been pining over since Freshman orientation. He stayed quiet.

You couldn’t take his silence, Race was not the quiet type. You pulled back from him to look at him properly. You were presented with an expression that you had never seen in the entire time that you’d known him. He looked frustrated, scared, conflicted, and sad. It was a miracle that he could fit so many feelings into one expression.

But when his eyes met yours, there was that ever-present gleam of fondness that he always seemed to have, and his expression softened the slightest bit.

“Race?”

“Well that’s just stupid.” He said firmly.

You pulled back a bit, recoiling from his words, “It’s not stupid to want to be wanted-“ you started, your voice shaking with not-quite-gone emotions.

“-no but it’s stupid that you’ve ever felt like you weren’t” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. He looked so certain at his own words, jaw set, as if there was no doubt in his mind that he was right, but you could see sorrow behind his gaze.

You exhaled, trying to calm down. Of course, he was just trying to be nice and make you feel better. He had no idea of the feelings that you’d been harboring for what felt like ages. You knew you were wanted, but you wanted him to want you.

From the start he had always been able to draw you in. He was magnetic. When he was around, it was never a question of being wanted, you knew that you were.

You shifted your position so that you and Race were shoulder to shoulder. You stared at the wall across from you.

“I know my friends all love me Race, I do… Sometimes I just want more from life, y’know?”

You felt him looking at you, “What is that even supposed to mean? Ain’t your friends enough?” His eyes searched yours, “Ain’t I?” his voice cracked ever so slightly.

Closing your eyes, you felt too tired to hide anymore, “You are more enough Race, you’re my best friend and I am grateful for that every day.”

“Then why are we crying in the hallway?”

“Sometimes I just want more,” you looked over at him nervously, “with you.”

He blinked at you for a moment, as if what you had just said was taking time to process, “More with me.” He echoed.

You nodded hesitantly.

“Like…” Race said slowly, “like romance?”

You nodded again, “Like romance.”

If your life was going to end right now, at least you had a good run. He was going to reject you. He was going to kindly let you know he only saw you as a friend and that you two could remain such, but nothing more. You were about to face the second rejection of the night, the second time you were faced with the fact that you weren’t desirable, not in the way that you wanted to be. That you were just another one of the guys to him. And the tragic part of it all was that you couldn’t blame him, not for a second. People couldn’t control their feelings; it wasn’t his fault nor yours that he didn’t feel the same way.

What you didn’t expect was for him to smile, his eyes glowing as he looked over at you. “If I’d have known that I would’ve asked you sooner”. His smile grew bitter, “Would’ve saved ya from Oscar Delancey.”

You froze, you didn’t blink or breath as you processed what he had just said. The implication that if you had just waited… if you had just hoped a little more, that you’d be slow dancing with Race instead of crying in the hall over a guy you never even liked. You pondered it for a moment in your daze, the thought of being loved by him.

You felt tears well back up in your eyes for an entirely different reason, a fragile joy filling your chest, as you turned to your best friend and gently brought a hand up to hesitantly cup his face.

“Were you actually going to ask me?” You whispered, lips upturned in a hesitant smile, hope spreading in your chest like its own little sun.

Race looked at you, and you recognized it, that look he had a couple nights ago. You recognized the adoration in his eyes as he looked at you, the love that had always been there that you had brushed off as just a friendly thing. Just something that was so unique to him.

Something that was so unique to him specifically when he was looking at you.

“I kept chickening out; Albert was about ready to do it for me the day he asked you about it.” He whispered back sheepishly, letting out a small, breathy laugh. “And of course by then, I’d already missed my shot. You can’t imagine how freaked out I was that the girl of my dreams was going anywhere with a Delancey brother of all people.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a stray tear falling from your eye, “I only said yes to him because I was afraid, you’d never ask.”

“You wanted me to?” He leaned ever so slightly into the palm of your hand, his eyes studying yours.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned in, pausing when your noses brushed, waiting for him to push you away or pull you close or to do anything.

And when your lips connected, it was as if everything fell into place. Your free hand found its way to Race’s hair, his hands to your shoulder, then waist, pulling you in as close as he could. He was warm and smelled like some cologne that he probably borrowed from one of the guys. You felt his hands grip your waist tighter still, as though he was afraid of letting go. You ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, rubbing your other thumb slowly over his cheekbone. You’d be able to die happy now that you knew that Race was an amazing kisser.

Finally, after a moment that felt like eternity, you pulled back, smiling wider than you could ever remember smiling, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you.”

“You mean we could’ve been doing this the whole time?” Race’s eyes were closed now; he looked at peace.

You let out a soft laugh, noticing his eyes crinkle in amusement as you did, “I suppose we could have, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as dramatic.”

“Oh shut it”, he grinned as he leaned back in. Maybe the night was not entirely lost.

[youaintnothinbuta]

hiii! could u pretty pls do a jack kelly x reader with the reader secretly being pulitzers daughter? (kinda like katherine’s storyline lol) :))

"So we wasn’t too good to be true?" — jack kelly x reader

Summary: Jack finds out the hard way that you’re Pulitzer’s daughter and he’s not happy about it. But, after forcing him to listen to you, you show him that he can trust you.

Pairing: jack Kelly x pulitzersdaughter!reader

Word count: 1,000

Warnings: Fluff with a bita arguing! Sry if there’s typos <3

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It was late and cold, Jack was hurting and angry. He’d gone back to the newsies from Pulitzer’s office, trying to disband the strike. The boys didn’t take this well, yelling and shouting at him like they hadn’t been friends for most of their lives. He stormed around on his rooftop, kicking and punching the railings, his breathing ragged as his body tried to keep warm in the cold air, and his brain tried to fight off the emotions that were becoming all too much for him to contain. The newsies, however, weren’t even the half of what was working him up so much. No, it was you. He was furious and sad.

While in Pulitzer’s office, he noticed the stamp patterned over all the documents spread all over his desk. Jack could barely remember what Pulitzer said to him. His head hurt, his brain felt like lead. That stamp had the same emblem as the one in your necklace, the one you’d told him was a family crest.

He wasn’t exactly being quiet up there, the echo of metal ringing and his angry cries made it pretty easy for you to find him.

“Jack,” you spoke his name as you climbed up the ladder to meet him.

Jack took a sharp breath in, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“What? Jack, we’re worried ab—“

“You’re worried, huh? Yeah, right.” Jack’s voice was raw with emotion, his words tinged with bitterness as he cut you off.

You frowned, confusion knitting your brows together as you approached him cautiously. “What are you talking about, Jack? What’s going on?”

He turned away from you, unable to meet your gaze as he wrestled with the truth threatening to spill from his lips. “I knew it was too good to be true,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw your matching family crest with Pulitzer. Nice surprise, really. I mean, how long did you think you could lie for?”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in. “Jack, I…”

He spun around to face you, his eyes filled with a tumult of emotions – anger, sadness, confusion. “You lied to me, a-and every other newsie” he accused, his voice cracking.

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to him, but he recoiled, pulling away from you. “Jack, please, let me explain—”

But he shook his head, his jaw clenched with determination. “I don’t want to hear it,” he spat, his words laced with hurt.

“Jack, I’m not my father.”

“No.”

“Jack-“

“I—I’m not an idiot. I shoulda known,” he groaned, “girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. Just piss off.”

With that, he turned away from you, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind as he retreated into the darkness of the rooftop.

You weren’t about to let him do that.

“No Jack,” you gripped the back of his shirt, pulling it to turn him to face you. Before he had the opportunity to turn back around, you gripped the collar of his shirt in both hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I am not my father. I am on your side, Jack. YOUR SIDE. I didn’t tell you he was my father because I knew you’d immediately disregard me.” You stated, not once letting your eye contact be broken.

Jack's gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of your close proximity playing with his head. He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion as he struggled to find the right words to say.

You could see the conflict playing out in his eyes, the battle between his wounded pride and the sliver of hope he still had left. And then, without a word, you released your grip on his shirt and took a step back, your own emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

You gripped at your necklace. With one hard yank, you pulled it off your neck, snapping the clasp. He watched as you leant over the railing, tossing it as far into the night as you could. Turning away from him, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you knew would come next – rejection, dismissal, the final nail in the coffin of what could have been.

But then, just as you began to descend the ladder, his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Y/N."

You paused, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to look at him from the ladder.

"So we wasn’t too good to be true?" he asked, his voice soft yet filled with uncertainty.

You hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts of what to say. And then, summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you climbed back up the ladder and leaned against the railing, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Why don't you kiss me and find out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack scoffed and shook his head. But as he looked into your eyes, he realized there was no jest in your expression, only a fierce determination and a vulnerability that mirrored his own.

“Wait, you’re serious?” he asked, his voice tinged with astonishment, his accent thick with disbelief.

You didn’t say anything, your gaze never leaving his as you held his stare, your heart pounding in anticipation.

And then, without another word, Jack closed the distance between you, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate.

In that moment, everything else faded away – the cold, his anger, his hurt, your fears, the weight of the world on your shoulders. There was only Jack, only the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, and the overwhelming rush of emotions that came with him. Good ones.

There was a hunger in the way he kissed you, as if he was trying to convey all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. You pulled away, the soft smacking sound of your lips parting from his broke the silence.

“I am Y/N Pulitzer, Jack Kelly. Or should I say, Francis Sullivan.” You teased.

“You know?” His eyes widened, wondering how on earth you found out his birth name.

You shrugged, “We’re even now,” and extended your hand for him to shake.

“Nah,” he pushed your hand away, back down by your side, “I’d rather kiss.”

He smiled, pulling your body into his until your lips met again.

[avengethedonuts]

Racetrack x fem!reader

Hi guys! 😁🫶

So this is my very first time, that I post something on Tumblr, other than reposting. And this is also my very first fanfic so... I hope it's not too bad and you like it! ☺️🫣

Also english isn't my mother tongue, so please have mercy on me and I apologize for any grammar mistakes! 🙏

Pairing: Racetrack Higgings x fem!reader (as you can see in the title 😅)

Summary: You we're supposed to stay at Meddas, but it didn't go as planned.

Warnings: metioning of wounds and beating.

(GIFs not mine!)

The Loging House was oddly quiet as she entered it. But that was probably because it was 2 in the morning and where a few hours left before everyone woke up.

She made her way upstairs as quietly as she could, she didnt want to wake the others newsies up but there was a certain newsies who was already awake before she entered the house. So hearing someone enter the Logde, he quickly made his way out of bed, concerned that somebody might have broken in, which technically wouldn't make much sense, considering that Newsies didn't have much money. So as he made his way out of the room, he was very surprised finding a startled (Y/N) outside the door of the sleeping chamber.

"(Y/N), what are you doing here?"

"Racetrack- oh im so sorry, did I wake you up?" She whispered.

"Its fine, I was already up. Couldnt sleep. I thought you were staying at Meddas?" He asked tiredly. Only then did Race get a good look on her face. And he was everything but happy with what he saw.

"(Y/N), what happened to your face?" He exclaimed worriedly as he stepped forward and cupped her face to get a better look at it, but that only made her wince and quickly step away.

"Please be quiet Race, your gonna wake up the others!" She hissed and put a hand over his mouth, looking at him pleadingly.

He looked at her concerned and angry and removed her hand from his face, in the process grabing it and leading her downstairs again, towards the small living room, where they kept the first aid kit. He pointed at a small couch and as she sat down, he grabbed the kit and placed the things he needed on the table.

There was absolute silence while he began to clean and treat the wounds. (Y/N) didnt dare to speak, afraid of an outburst and Race wanted to concentrate on the treatment before questioning her.

Normaly Racetrack wasnt the responsible and serious kind of guy, but when it came to his Family he was very protective and determined.

"(Y/N) who did this to you, and why aren't you at Meddas?" he asked after he was finished and took a seat next to her. His voice was full of concern as he tried to remain calm and not shake her shoulders until he got a name or a describtion, so he could storm out of the house to give this bastard an unforgetable soakin.

"I was-..." She started, looking shamefuly on the ground, but couldn't finish the sentence because tears started to form in her eyes and threatend to spill.

"Hey look at me" Race said softly, gently grapping her chin and turning her head so she had to look at him. His heart broke at the sight of her red eyes and anxious look. "I promise I wont yell at you and I wont storm off to find the guy to did this to you." Which was only a half lie, because he obliviously was going after him in the morning, when the others where awake. She took a deep breath and looked at the floor again.

"Well today it as harder than usual to sell papes and when I finished it was already dark." She began with a shaky voice.

"I quickly got a few things from here and made my way to Meddas but when I got there someone informed me that she wasn't there tonight because she got invited to another show in Queens and stayed there for the night. It was already midnight by then and when I made my way back the Loging House, some creepy guys started to follow me. I tried to shake them of but they were too fast and eventually they catched up with me and dragged me into an alley." She noticed the way Races face went from a worried to a furious look, but contiued anyway.

"They tried to secude me to get me into bed with them but I resisted as much as I could and even punched one of them in the face and after they realised that it wasnt going anywhere, they just started kicking and punching until they lost interest and ran away. After I was sure they were gone i made my way here." she finished with a sob, unable to hold back her tears anymore.

Seeing this, Race quickly pulled her into a hug and rested his chin on her head. "Shh, its alright. They wont gonna hurt you again doll, I swear." He began to whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she cried into his chest.

When her crying quietend down, she slowly pulled away from him. "Im sorry for ruining your T-Shirt" she sniffled.

"You dont have to be sorry for anything, darling. Plus, I had to wash this shirt anyway, so don't worry." He anwsered. "And if anyone has to be sorry it's me. I shouldn't have let you walk alone to Medda and I swear to God that I'm never letting you walk alone again, and I'm really sorry."

"Its not your fault, Race. I should have paid more attention or should have staid here in the first place." She said, looking him deep in the eyes.

"But you and the others are the only family I have and I should've protected you" He sighed and before she could anwser they heard the gong of the big pendlum clock in the corner, reminding them that it was 3 o'clock in the morning and in a few hours, they had to get ready for selling newspapers again.

"I think we should get to bed and try to get a few hours of good sleep before the others start to wake up" Race said and stood up. (Y/N) followed his action and they made their way to the bed chambers again. Before they entered (Y/N) stopped and faced Race.

"I'm not usually the type to ask this and haven't asked this anyone before, but could we maybe sleep together? Like not sleep together but maybe stay in the same bed? I dont know if i can sleep alone, based on the past events that happened, but if you dont want to, its totaly fine, I wont mind and would totaly understand if you don't want to! Gosh, this is so akward im really sorry-" she began to ramble but Race quickly cut her off.

"I wouldnt mind."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I was gonna ask the same thing but i wanted you to have your privacy!" he smiled and akwardly scratched his neck.

"Thank you so much Race!" she smiled in relief and pulled him into a quick hug.

"No problem"

They finally entered the room where they were met with a dozen of snoring newsies. Walking to the bathroom, (Y/N) quickly got changed and when she walked into the sleeping chamber again, Race was already sitting on her bed. She made her way to Race as quiet as possible and sat beside him. "Sooo... should we lay down?" He asked.

"Oh yeah, of course" she blushed and lifted the blanket so they could both crawl underneath it. They had to squeeze a little, the bed itself was barely big enough for one person, but that only made it more comfortable.

"Thank you for staying with me" (Y/N) whispered, facing him. "Anything for you, doll" Race said in a quiet voice and rested a hand on her waist which made her blush but was also comforting. His heart warmed when (Y/N) snuggled into him, face pressed into his chest and soon he could hear soft snores coming from her. He decided to also get some rest, after all he had to soak those Bastards tomorrow. So he closed his eyes and slowly drifted of to sleep.

---------

I hope you enjoyed it! 😊

[connor-murphy-trash]

Sup Bitchesssss

long time no see

i just wanted to pop in and say thank you for the continued love on this blog. i see everyone still liking and sharing my stories and I'm so glad y'all still like my work all these years later.

i do still use tumblr but its not really on the fandom side anymore. i have a different account just for 18+ spicy purposes 🤭 i do still read some fanfic and i send it to myself on this account so i apologize if i spam rq on here.

i would love to reconnect with some mutuals on here so if you see this feel free to reach out!

[lovingmusicalmen]

Awwwww your Race blurb is so cute! Could you do one for Race with the "Do you want me to carry you?" prompt?

I'm gonna be honest... Race is the current loml I actually fucking love writing for him

Still accepting blurb requests!

Fluff 17 - "Do you want me to carry you?"

Race's eyebrows lifted a little at the loud groan Y/N let out as she fell into the seat beside his at Jacobi's. The girl dropped her forehead onto the table, complete with another long-suffering sigh.

Race looked over to the other Newsies who were sat around them, all of them with expressions of equal amusement painted across their features. Race met Blink's eyes and gestured at his girlfriend with a questioning look, only to be met with a shrug from Y/N's selling partner.

"You alright, Doll?"

"No," she huffed dramatically. She rolled her head over so that she was facing him and Race's heart stuttered in his chest upon seeing her little pout.

Even after months of dating, she still had that effect on him. How or why, Race didn't know. But he wasn't going to complain.

He reached out and removed Y/N's hat from her head, and gently took out some of the pins she had been using to keep her hair from her face. Y/N let out a contented sigh when Race's fingers began to brush through the strands.

"Rough selling day?" He asked, lowering his voice slightly. He had a feeling it was just general exhaustion that had his girlfriend feeling low, which all of the Newsies would understand and sympathise with. But on the off chance it was something slightly more serious, Race didn't want to share her private business with their crowd of friends.

"My shoes are breaking," Y/N lamented, sighing again. Race couldn't help but smile a little and Y/N scowled up at him, though Race saw the gleam of amusement in her eyes. "Don't laugh at me!" She whined.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Race said, feeling anything but. "I thought you'd been saving for a new pair of boots anyway?"

"Well, yeah" Y/N admitted grudgingly. "I just didn't want to actually have to buy them, you know? Figured if I asked the nuns to pray for my shoes, they'd just... last forever."

"Immortal boots?"

"Immortal boots," Y/N confirmed sagely, at last cracking a smile.

"Want me to come with you to get some new ones tomorrow after circulation?" Race offered. Y/N's expression softened and she at last moved off of the table to curl into Race's side instead.

"Stop thinking so laterally - I just want to complain about my shitty, breaking boots," Y/N huffed, though there was no malice behind the words, judging by the soft kiss she pressed to the column of his neck.

Race wound his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, chuckling.

"I'm sorry for your loss, doll - I'm sure Al would be up for hosting a funeral for them, if you want? Toss them off the Brooklyn Bridge? You can make a speech about how much they meant to you?"

Y/N snorted a laugh, moving away just enough so that she could tilt his face gently down and press a kiss to his lips.

"Spot'll be thrilled we invaded his turf for my stinky boots."

"Nah - think he'll be as thrilled as any of us to see them go. I can smell your shoes all the way in Sheepshead."

Race was rewarded for his joke with a sharp elbow in the side and an outraged cry from his girlfriend as she pulled away glare playfully at him.

"I hate you, Racetrack," Y/N huffed, emphasising the second part of his nickname in the way she only ever did to tease him. Race shot her a cheeky grin, tugging her back towards her to give her another kiss.

"Come on - I'm tired, let's go take a nap."

"That sounds so good right now," Y/N agreed, all pretence of being upset with him being given up as she melted back into his embrace. Race dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

"And to spare your dying boots any further disrespect, you want me to carry you back to the lodging house?" He offered.

Though, he didn't wait for her response as he just scooped her up into his arms. Y/N let out a shriek, garnering the attention and amusement of their friends again as she wound her arms around Race's neck. The laughs of the Newsie's erupted through the diner and Y/N rolled her eyes, seeming unable to muster up her usual teasing glare as she instead beamed at her boyfriend.

"You're so annoying."

Race shot her a cheesy grin.

"You love me."

[sl-newsie]

Teach Me To Love Hate You (Race x Fem Jet OC, enemies to lovers)

Here I am to request again! (*insert evil laugh*) So Race is doing so bad in school that he has to get a tutor. The problem is he gets stuck with this posh Jet girl and they absolutely hate each other. Tutoring is a mess. But one night when Race goes out to play cards against the Jets he’s playing against her, but she’s all dressed up! Turns out she’s a card shark, and wins by flirting with her opponent to get in their head. Her strategy works, and by the end of the night they're practically dating.

Davey’s POV

“Another F, Mr. Higgins.”

Our math teacher, Mr. Johnson, hands the man sitting in front of me his test. No surprise that Race failed considering he spends all his time goofing off. I’ll admit since I’ve met Jack and his gang I myself have relaxed a bit but not too much to have my perfect grades drop.

“Very impressive, Mr. Jacobs.”

I’m handed my own test, which I passed with flying colors. The bell rings and signals for us to head home.

“Go ahead, Davey,” Race groans. “Rub your perfect score in my face. I hate school!”

I gather my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I know book smarts aren’t your thing. Um, have you maybe considered being tutored?”

Race huffs and pulls out his cigar to stick in his mouth. “No way! I’ll keep my own perfect score of failing before I team up with one-a those bookworms-”

“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Higgins.” Mr Johnson approaches us. “Your failing grades have led the school to force me to assign you a tutor. You are to stay after school every weekday until 5. You will continue this until your grades improve.” The teacher gestures to the door. “Your tutor is waiting for you in room 215.”

I can’t believe it. Neither can Race.

“Are you serious? God, outta all things…”

The flustered student gets up and struts out of the room, causing me to rush after him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? It’s only-”

“Dave, of course it’s gonna be bad! I’ll barely miss the card tournaments at 6!” We reach the end of the hall where room 215 is. “I’m gonna be locked up with some ugly stiff trying to teach the unteachable-!”

“You must be Anthony Higgins,” a woman’s voice speaks as the classroom door opens.

Race rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!”

Amanda’s POV

This is what I get? This is what I get for keeping good grades? Being forced to tutor someone? Mrs. Smith informed me this morning that I’ve been assigned to tutor someone all because I’m one of the top students. I don’t even go to Manhattan High! I’m only here for the math class! Sadly West Side High doesn’t have any higher up math classes, so I have to commute to ‘Hattan. 

I take a deep breath as I wait in the empty classroom. Just get through it one day at a time. The sooner you help him improve the sooner this headache will be over. The sound of approaching chatter alerts me to the door. Putting on a perky face, I walk over and open it. Outside I recognize Davey from math club, and the other must be the student I’m supposed to meet.

“You must be Anthony Higgins.” 

The man in question rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!” His jaw drops and I swear he’s having a stroke.

Davey waves a hand in front of him. “Um, Race? You ok?”

The blonde boy nods slowly, still gaping at me. I feel my patience slipping. Ugh. I am not staying after school to be ogled!

I grip the man’s shirt and drag him inside. “Thanks for dropping him off, David. I’ve got my work cut out. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Amanda!” The kind Jacobs man waves and shuts the door.

Race is still quiet. I steer him to a chair and push him down to sit. “Listen up, Higgins. We both don’t wanna be here. So let me make this perfectly clear: pay attention and smarten up!”

Higgins shakes himself awake and gets a lopsided grin. “Well hello, doll. Y’know friends call me Race-”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your tutor.”

My firm tone turns Race’s grin to a scowl. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve met you. I’dve remembered your lovely attitude.”

I stiffly take out some worksheets and slap them on the desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Higgins. I’m from West Side High.”

He snickers. “Ah, one-a Lorton’s gals. That’s where the attitude comes from!”

I roll my eyes. “Riff’s just a good friend. That also means that you shouldn’t try anything, understand? Just do these worksheets and we can be done for today. My whole life doesn’t revolve around school, and unlike you I actually have plans that don’t involve goofing off.”

“Well,” Race says cockily. “Since neither of us wanna suffer through this, whaddya say you lets me go early?”

That little-! That’s it. No more playing nice. I stiffly walk over to the door and lock it. It’s against school policy but I don’t care at this point. This cheeky moron is not gonna pin me for some softie!

“Hey! Why’d you-?”

I steer Race back into his seat with a firm hold. “Worksheets. Now! Before I really give you something to stress over!”

He’s shaken but still tries to keep confident. “Like what? The heartthrob you’s give’n me?”

“Like a black eye, dumbass! Now get to work!”

Race’s POV

God must have a sense-a humor ‘cause that tutor session felt like it took fifty years! It don’t help that my tutor is a stuck-up goody-goody. Jeez, for a moment I thought she was cute. I didn’t even get her name.

“Ey, Racer. Ya with us?” Jack asks.

“Um- Yeah. Just think’n,” I mudda as we enter the Jets’ hideout. 

“You? Thinking?” Albert laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day! What’s got you so worked up?”

“He has to be tutored now,” Davey explains from behind.

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks Davey! Why not announce my failure to the whole woild, why dontcha?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Race,” Crutchy tries to comfort me. “It took me a while to understand math too.”

“What I don’t get is how are ya so bad at math when ya count cards like a madman?” Spot grunts. “You’s bedda not get us kicked out.”

This week’s card tournament is be’n held in the West Side. I ain’t too noivous ‘cause Riff’s always too busy boast’n ‘bout his new construction job to play the game. That and Baby John’s poker face ain’t worth dirt. I can see through him like glass. So far the turn up looks pretty bland. Maybe folks is get’n tired-a losing? Where’s the competition?

“Evening gents,” Riff greets us as we gather ‘round the table. “We’s just wait’n on a few more players, then we’ll start.”

“Is Bernardo coming?” Davey asks.

The Jet leader smirks. “Wouldn't you wanna know, Mouth? Expecting Liliana to show?”

David blushes and looks away. Sure, he gets a pretty goil tonight. Of all people I expected Davey Jacobs to be the last guy to find a date.

“What about Mouthpiece?” I ask. “Can’t a guy see his own brodda?”

Riff shakes his head. “Bernardo called to say he can’t make it either. Only Baby John and Amanda are left to show.”

“Besides, one Higgins is enough to handle,” Jack groans. “We don’t need the matching pair.”

I’d hoid of Baby John before but the odda name ain’t familiar. With my luck it’ll be some ditzy dame who don’t know a spade from a shovel-

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

Amanda’s POV

“Are you kidding me?” I gape as I peer through the window. 

“What’s wrong?” Baby John asks from behind.

“Race is here, that’s what! That ding-dong plays cards here?”

“Actually he ain’t no ding-dong,” Baby John points out. “Race is one-a the best players in New York.”

I snort. “If he’s so smart, why do I gotta be forced to teach him basic algebra?” Perhaps that’s a question no one can answer. “Don’t matter. He’ll bend either way.”

“Gonna lay on the shark charm?” John questions with an arched brow.

“Ya bet.” I don’t always play by the rules. My secret is that after school I play tournaments as a card shark by flirting with players. Some frown at it but I’m proud of my acting skills. Plus any little money I can make goes towards helping my parents.

Baby John goes ahead and sits next to Riff at the table while I stand behind Race. 

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

The man’s head jerks up and he spins around to look at me with surprised eyes. It’s as if he can’t decide that I’m real. He looks between me and Riff with a stunned expression.

“Amanda, I see you know Race,” the Jet assumes.

My lips press into a firm line. “Yeah. Through tutoring. Now since we’s not at school can we actually have fun and play some cards?”

The oddas just shrug and begin to assemble the deck, while Race looks at me like he just won the lottery.

“Amanda, is it? Golly, I’ve never pinned you for a card gal!”

“There’s many things you’d be surprised by,” I say in a sultry voice. My suave charm automatically draws Race in and I see him starting to lose his senses. 

“Th- That’s some getup you’ve got on, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

His compliment is refreshing. Usually guys just eat my appearance right up with no thought-a be’n nice. Tonight’s outfit is a polka dot cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple red heels. I may be a card shark but I still got my dignity.

“Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly, but then regain my attitude. “I was starting to think ya couldn’t use that mouth for anything odda than back-sassing. Ready to lose?”

Race stares for a second then turns back to start gathering his delt hand. I decide to sit next to him for a better shot of distracting him. If I can get the oh-so-great Racetrack Higgins to falter at cards then I’ll have really set a record. Tonight’s game is Hearts and fortunately my hand is halfway decent. Lotta high cards plus the queen-a spades. Just enough to turn the tables and give everyone 26 points.

“You’ve been taking a lotta hearts,” Race says after a while, then says in a lower tone: “Wanna bet that you’d steal mine as well?”

Ha! He’s trying to play a card shark at her own game! This is too funny.

I pull on my best flirting smile and bat my eyelashes. “You tell me, handsome.”

That did it. Race’s face goes beet red and he goes back to staring at his cards. A few more hands go by and I continue to keep the lead. Luckily the oddas are too consumed by conversation to notice, all except Race. But for good measure to keep him distracted I slide my leg over to brush against his. This gets him shaking and all but hot and bothered. It’s working, but then why does a part-a me feel guilty? It ain’t a question that Race is a jerk sometimes but he’s still kinda handsome- No. I have a job to do. There's no holding back.

“Last hand. Who’s got the queen?” Davey asks as we all turn in our final card.

My smirk outshines all their oblivious faces. “I do!”

Jack chuckles. “You lose, Amanda.”

“Actually…” I fan out all the hearts I’ve collected. “I win!”

Everyone takes a double-take and groans. Another victory!

“Alright, you know the rules,” Riff grunts. “Pay up.”

The guys grudgingly take out their contribution and toss it onto the table. Maybe now I can afford to buy mom some good kitchen knives.

“Good job, Amanda.” Leave it to Crutchy to be the pro at sportsmanship. “You’re almost better than Race!”

“He’s right,” Spot agrees. “Hear that, Higgins? Ya got competition!”

The man in question has a stern look on his face. Instead-a answering he abruptly gets up and sulks down the hall to the bathroom. Sore loser. Can’t he take one defeat without holding a grudge? 

“We’s gonna head back,” Jack calls. “Send Race over once he’s done.”

The ‘Hattan fellas make their way out, leaving me with Spot ‘nd the Jets. Soon enough they too walk out and leave me alone to count up my winnings. After a few moments I hear footsteps and turn to see Race fuming with what looks like anger.

“You got spunk, sweetheart,” he remarks slyly. “Not many dames can get into my head the way you do.” All of a sudden he struts forward and leans me back to lay against the table. “Almost makes me wanna soak ya for that, but then that’d be wasting that pretty face-a yours.”

How is he so strong? Also why are his eyes suddenly quite catching-? Ugh! Get a grip, Amanda! Just take the money and go.

“You’re lucky Riff ain’t here right now,” I growl. “Oddawise you’d be talking through a mouth with no teeth for saying that.”

Race scoffs. “You batted your eyes at me, sweetheart. What’s your angle?”

“It’s part of the game! Jeez Higgins, you’re so used to card tournaments I thought you’d already know what a card shark is!”

“So instead of being one-a Bernardo’s sharks, you’re an actual shark?” Race dramatically clutches his chest. “That hurts. That hurts deep, sweetheart.”

I hiss in frustration. “Stop calling me that!”

“Why? ‘Cause every odda bum ya flirt with calls you that? Just how many guys have ya swindled to give you cash?”

In a fleeting moment of anger I slap Race across the face. “I ain’t your usual lady of the night, Higgins! For your information, every cent I earn through card games goes to my folks! Unlike you I use my skills to help people instead of boasting ‘bout it like a spoiled brat!”

Race blanks for a second but is still angry. “Boasting? I ain’t the one boasting, sweetheart. I’ll admit my skills is good but it’s Jack ‘nd the oddas that boast ‘bout it!”

“Then why do you suck at math?” I jab. 

“Maybe it’s the same reason why a clean-cut goil like you is a card shark,” Race replies. “I gots bedda things to do.”

“That don’t mean ya should throw your education in the trash!” I argue.

“I ain’t as smart as you, sweetheart. I know when to admit I’m no good.” 

Race suddenly gets a saddened look and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad. It ain’t his fault he’s not book smart but that don’t mean he’s useless.

“You still don’t get it, Higgins. Life’s more than just academics. But you still gotta put up with the tough stuff.” I loosen up a little and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to cooperate, I could still tutor ya.”

Race laughs. “Ha! That’s a good one, sweetheart. Going soft on me?”

That son of a-! “Alright, fine! Go and fail math for all I care!” I lean forward and shove him against the wall. “To think I actually felt sorry for you, you snarky, hot, cocky-!”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Race’s face lights up. “Lay that on me again?”

“I was an idiot to think you’re a decent human being-! Ah!”

The blue-eyed man tilts over and plants a kiss on my lips. In my shocked state I don’t know whether to pound him or kiss him back. The gesture melts away my anger in pure ecstasy. God, what’s this guy doing to me?!

“You think I’m hot, sweetheart?” Race gets a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I ain’t flattered. You’s a scrumptious catch too.”

My face twitches as I try to form a rebuttal. “I- I… I-!”

“Well, whaddya know! I got the card shark speechless!” Race softly places his own hand on my shoulder. “I say we’d make a great pair, hm? Before we kill each odda, whaddya say to a milkshake at Doc’s?”

He’s got me hook, line, and sinker. As a card shark I’m not supposed to fall for anyone I play- where did I go wrong? Race is a pain! Yet still kinda cute… Ugh! Why does luv gotta be so complicated?!

“I- I ain’t good with luv, Race,” I mutter. “The only hearts I’ve been dealt with are cards. I ain’t a normal date.”

No matter how hard I wanna look away, Race’s eyes still capture me in a helpless trance. I’ve been disassembled from a cunning card shark into a pathetic mess. All I can do is stare as the man runs a hand softly across my cheek and looks down at me with kind eyes; a completely opposite demeanor than 10 minutes ago.

“I don’t want a normal date, Amanda. A normal date picks at my habits and says I gots a gambling problem.” Race bumps his nose on mine. “You wouldn’t say that, wouldya?”

My breath hitches. “No, you- you’re amazing at cards. Anybody who says oddawise is a joker.”

Now Race’s face is mere inches from mine. “Still up for a date?”

A sassy grin spreads on my lips. “Think ya can handle me, Higgins? I am still your tutor, after all.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just lemme kiss you, ya mouthy tutor.”

And I do. Over and over and over, Race kisses up and down. All talk-a math and school drips away and I give in to this new-found feeling. 

“Never thought I’d fall for a bookworm,” Race mumbles between kisses.

I lightly smack his shoulder. “Remember this ‘bookworm’ just schooled you in Hearts, Higgins. You lost, remember?”

Race chuckles. “Yeah. Lost my own heart to you too, sweetheart.”

Tonight really was a successful game after all.