I Played As Spot In My School's Play And I Fucked Up The Brooklyn's Here Number. Like That's My Time

i played as spot in my school's play and i fucked up the brooklyn's here number. like that's my time to shine

Spot Conlon x Reader

Written in first person (I, my, me) I did not proof read but oh well. There’s no smut or nsfw. Just Gabriel Damon.

As I passed the group, the newsies tipped their hats in acknowledgment, but one gaze lingered longer than the rest. Spot stared at me, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. My heart raced; it was peculiar to be the subject of such attention. Racetrack and Mush stood nearby, giggling and nudging each other, clearly entertained by Spot's lovestruck expression.

Days passed, and I couldn’t shake the thought of that moment. It was pure chance when I found myself at the same area Spot frequented. He was there, leaning against the wall, chatting animatedly with his newsies. Gathering my courage, I approached him, the aroma of smelly orphan boys filling the air.

“Hey, I’m—”

“Spot,” I interrupted, grinning. “I know who you are. You’re doing some sort of strike with the other news boys?..”

There was a spark between us, but his passionate discourse about the strike quickly began to cloud my thoughts. He spoke endlessly about the injustices faced by the newsies, their struggle against the bulls, and the hope for a better deal. My interest in the fight for fair wages was overshadowed by a more personal yearning.

To my surprise, he suggested we grab lunch together. I felt both excited and nervous, trying to listen while my mind wandered back to his passionate eyes.

The next week, the city was alive with discussions about the strike, and Spot’s enthusiasm was contagious, but my distraction was palpable. Just as I found a moment to speak up, the unmistakable sound of angry shouts and marching boots echoed nearby.

“The bulls!” Spot exclaimed, his eyes widening. Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hustle of the streets. The adrenaline surged through me as we sprinted away from the approaching police, laughter spilling from Spot’s lips.

We dashed through the back alleys, weaving expertly as the chaos of the chase enveloped us. My heart raced not just from running but from the thrill of being next to him. I felt alive in a way I had never experienced before.

Finally reaching the docks, we paused, panting and exhilarated. The night sky was painted with stars, and the gentle rocking of the boats below mirrored the fluttering in my chest. Spot turned to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper.

“Thanks for runnin wit me,” he said, his voice softer now.

Before I knew it, he leaned in. Our lips met in a gentle kiss, the world around us fading away. It was a moment that felt like destiny, sweet and fleeting.

When we pulled away, Spot’s expression softened, and I knew then that we were no longer just a girl from Mew York and the king of the Brooklyn. Together, we had become part of something greater—each other.

Days turned into weeks, and as the summer sun began to dip below the horizon, our love blossomed amid struggles and strikes. Together, we made memories that would last a lifetime, weaving the threads of our lives into a beautiful tapestry of adventure, friendship, and love—just like the stitches of my sewing. And so, with every challenge the world threw our way, we faced it hand in hand, writing our own history in the city that never sleeps.

A/N : go follow my c.ai! It’s bae4faist and I have some bots in the makingggg