Newsies Imagines

Imagine the Delancey Brothers Hitting on

You stretch your arms high above your head. It's been a long day at The World, and you're glad to finally be outside. The evening air is cool, and all of New York City seems to be happy for a break from the mid-summer heat. Maybe you can see if any of the boys want to go to the park or something. You smile, noticing the breeze. Last week, you helped Les make a kite. You haven't flown it yet, but tonight would be perfect for kite flying. There's still about an hour before dark, so if you hurry-

Not watching where you're going, you run smack into someone. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" you apologize.

"You better be!" the man you ran into sneers. You look up in shock at his words and realize that it's Morris Delancy, and his brother Oscar isn't far behind.

"Well, ain't this a pleasant surprise," Oscar says, smirking and sauntering closer to you. That sets you on edge. You've been taught never to trust the Delancys. "You're that little secretary from upstairs, ain't ya?"

You mutely nod, wishing they'd leave. If you were bolder, you'd tell them what you thought of them. But you are quite the opposite of bold.

"Yeah, the one that's always hanging around the newsies," Morris chimes in.

"So pretty, but such bad taste," Oscar shakes his head.

Your heart is pounding so hard, you're sure it's about to fly out of your chest. "I've really got to go," you quietly squeak, trying to leave.

"Aw, stay awhile, girly," Morris grins sinisterly, catching you by the upper arm.

Oscar runs a hand over your (h/c) curls. "You leave now, an' you'll miss all the fun."

"Let me go, or I'll scream," you threaten desperately, squirming and trying to break free.

"You do, an' I'll give you two black eyes," Oscar sneers.

"Get your filthy hands off (y/n)!" a voice cries. Race comes running over. Not stopping to think, he tackles Oscar to the ground, landing punch after punch on the older boy. Race seems to have gone berserk!

You kick backwards, hoping to hit Morris. You finally connect with his shin, and he releases his hold on you. You spin around and kick him nice and hard where it hurts. He crumples to the ground in pain. Oscar isn't faring much better. Race has almost pummeled him into the pavement.

"Let's get out of here!" you cry and pull Race to his feet. He takes your hand, and you run faster than you ever have in your life. He suddenly jerks you into a dark alley. He presses you up against a wall with a hand on either side of you. Race is so close, less than an inch separates you.

You begin to speak but are reprimanded by a "Shh!" from Race.

"Higgins!" you hear one of the Delancys yell. Running steps pound past the alley.

Race keeps you there for a few more minutes, making sure that they're really gone. You feel so safe, so secure in his arms. You wish you could stay there forever. You look up at him. In the dim light, you can see his cigar is missing. He probably stuffed it in his pocket before attacking Oscar. His cap is askew on his blond curly hair which is damp with perspiration from the fight. His blue eyes are focused on the street, trying to spot any danger that could be lurking there.

Finally, his eyes turn to you. "You alright, (y/n)?"

You nod. "They're just big bullies."

Suddenly, he leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead. He immediately seems embarrassed. "Well, let's get ya home."

You reach up and straighten his cap. The two of you still haven't moved. A little shyly, you kiss his cheek. "Thanks for saving me, Race," you whisper.

"Anythin' for you, (y/n)," Race whispers back. "Anythin' for you."