Summary: As he previously promised, Bucky helps you work out all those
irritating little kinks in your pool
game. Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Absolutely NSFW. It’s all sex and pool tables folks, please walk
away unless you’re over 18.
A/N: Decided to write a follow-up to ‘Pool balls and underpants’, because
I just couldn’t move on without a smutty sequel. This can read as a
stand-alone story, but it will make more sense why Bucky’s wearing Steve’s underwear if you read the first part. And besides, who doesn’t
love reading sassy sexual innuendos from Bucky Barnes?
I meant this to be short, and once again my imagination spiralled out
of control, and here we are. I
that one scene in shaun of the dead where they’re circling around the zombie rhythmically hitting it with pool sticks to ‘don’t stop me now’ by queen is one of the funniest scenes in the history of cinema
Summary: Bucky offers to teach you how to play pool, but he ends up in a slightly awkward predicament. Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Language, lots of innuendos, Bucky being little shit Story prompt: “I made the mistake of thinking ‘This
can’t get weirder.’ Sorry.”
A/N: First time I’ve done a writing challenge of any kind, thanks @jurassicbarnes for letting me take this one! I haven’t written anything fluffy in awhile, this felt necessary, and it may require a smutty style follow-up. Also, while I may be a complete shit talker IRL,
I am terrible at pool and don’t know what I’m doing, so hopefully this
makes sense. And I really need to find someone to edit my wordy ass…
a little known fact – you adored dive bars. Everything smells musty?
Great. All the tables feel sticky? Perfect. The decor resembles a 1970’s porn
a complete contradiction to your work persona. Your name was uttered in hushed,
reverent tones in the halls of the Avengers compound, commonly followed by the
phrase ‘that woman gets shit done.’
Frankly, you worked your ass off to get to this point, so the satisfaction of
being known as the one who was always cool, always calm, always poised – it was
a heady feeling.
because of your rigid work environment that you gravitated toward the
local bar. It was one place you could let your guard down, unwind and relax.
Distancing your professional and personal life was a necessary ingredient in
your sanity, a dichotomy you actively encouraged.
then one day out of nowhere, Bucky Barnes swaggered into your life.
Being back in Holmes Chapel was nice, lovely really. Even after all these years, touring the world and living in LA, Harry felt at home here. He’s smiling while driving through the back streets. He sees his old school and the bakery, then he makes it to his parents house where his family is awaiting his arrival.
“I can’t believe you’re home,” Anne grins while welcoming her son. Harry’s face squishes up against the side of her head as she hugs him tightly.
“Missed ya too mum,” he mumbles before the hug ends. “It’s nice to be here, no where to run off to tomorrow,” Harry states as he looks at his step dad and sister Gemma waiting for an embrace too.
You want to figure out why Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers look so much alike
Johnny X Reader
A/N: A stupid plot that popped into my head. I know I said I would post the stucky x reader but I’m experiencing readers block so you’ll have to deal with this one instead.
“Holy fucking shit,” is the first thing out of your mouth when you first spot him standing next to the bar sporting a drink in his hands.
The next thing is, “You need to come home with me right now immediately.”
The guy turns to you clearly amused and looks you up and down. He gives you a toothy smile and tilts his head to the side before holding his hands out, “Well how can I say no to a gorgeous girl like you?”
He winks at you but you ignore it, opting to grab his hand and practically sprint out of the bar, “Whoa what’s the hurry sweetheart? We’ve got all night. I don’t even know your name.”
You roll your eyes and open your car door, practically shoving him inside, “Y/N.”
You jump into the drivers seat and peel out of the parking lot as he leans forward and grins, “I’m Johnny Storm. You’ll be needing to know that later when I make you scream my name.”
By the time you get to the compound you almost regret dragging him with you as he can’t keep his hands off of you. But the mystery is too deep and you can feel the excitement thrum in your stomach.
You park the car and get out but before you can get around the car, Johnny pinned you to the hood and is pressing his lips against the underside of your jaw.
You almost forget why you came here when he slips a hand down your pants and rubs against the bundle of sensitive nerves.
And holy shit he’s good.
Your head swims as he nips at your chest, flicking his fingers and you have to struggle to remember your mission.
“Wait- Holy fuck do that again- no wait shit hold on,” he looks a little put out when you push him away from you.
“In-inside,” you gesture to the door and he grins.
“Good idea sweetheart,” and follows you inside with a smack to your ass.
Your face turns bright red as you attempt to smooth down your hair and adjust your clothes.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. Where’s Cap,” you ask. The AI tells you he’s in the communal room with the rest of the members.
You pick up speed, the excitement returning to you and he follows behind bemusement and confusion on his face.
Steve is playing pool with Sam and Rhodes when he hears you calling out to him. He looks up in time to see you turn the corner and a man who takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your body and lean down to your ear and bites the lobe. Eyebrows are raise on practically everyone’s faces.
You swat him away, face flushed a deep red, motioning for Steve to come here. He’s sets down the pool stick and walks over.
“W-Wait Johnny- stop for a second and stand up,” you said as he groaned in protest and straightened up common face to face with Steve.
Now that his face is in full view the rest of the team falls absolutely silent before it’s broken by Bucky’s soft exclamation of “what the fuck?”
“That’s exactly what I said when I saw him,” you said gesturing to Johnny, “The resemblance is uncanny. The two of them are practically identical.”
“Are you related to the Rogers,” Steve asks.
Johnny shrugs his shoulder, “No clue.”
“Well you two have to be related somehow. People don’t just look they much alike without some familial DNA,” Bruce says.
“Nah they’re just played by the same actor. Chris Evans, America’s sweetheart,” Wade says lounging on the countertop shoveling chips into his mouth. “The things I would do to that man.”
“Wade what are you even doing here,” you turn to him confused.
“Plot convenience,” he shrugs his shoulders.
You shake your head, opting to ignore him instead knowing that any conversation with him is bound to take 5 times longer than it should normally take.
You turn back to the two eerily similar men in time to see Tony and Bruce collecting swab samples and loading them up into the computer to run a DNA analysis..
You manage to push your way through the crowd of people to the front in time to see the computers ding there’s a match.
Johnny and Steve are related by 2% by great great great (many great) grandparents.
“Well congrats on your apparent superior genetics guys,” you slap both of them on the backs feeling a sense of smugness over solving the mystery.
“How does that even work with the super Soldier serum tho cause Stevie definitely did not look like this before it,” Bucky asks.
Before anyone can answer, Wade sing songs, “Plot convenience.”
Natasha pushes him off the counter.
“Listen,” Johnny begins, “This is all fascinating, truly. But nerdy stuff like this is for my sister and her husband.”
He turns and faces you, grabbing your face into his hands and crashes his lips to yours. You feel your head swim and your knees weaken and suddenly you’re wondering if he can do that to your mouth, how good will he be between your-
He breaks apart the kiss and you have to physically pry open your eyes and calm your heart which is hammering against your chest loudly.
“Give me a call if you ever want to finish what we started on the hood of your car. Just let me know sweetheart and I’ll come running,” he gives you a lopsided grin, slips a piece of paper into your back pocket, and squeezes your ass before he walks out.
The team is quiet, looking at you as you stare off into space attempting to recollect your thoughts before Clint blurts out, “Wait what happened on the hood of your car?”
Heat crawls across your face as you shout, “Nothing! Nothing happened!”
@forlornlyoptimistic gave me a prompt, and what kind of person would i be if i refused such a legend??
She wakes to her phone oddly- and annoyingly, she’s trying to sleep- starting to play before clicking off.
It’s only when she recognizes the tune of we are family start for the third time does she make a mad scramble for her phone. Her limbs get trapped, and she’s thankful for Maggie’s late shift if only for the fact that she doesn’t have to hear her laughter or see that teasing smile.
(That teasing, dimpled smile.
That teasing, dimpled beautiful smile she gets to wake up to any morning she wants.
That smile that is warmth in its edges, tenderness in the crinkle of her eyes, and oh, affection seeps into her as easy as the sun.)
Do you play pool for real, and are you ambidextrous?
“Umm, no I can’t write very well with my left hand. I can punch with my left hand so that’s good.
Uh, do I play pool? Can I? Yes. Is it great? Not really. But, I can hit people with a pool stick as Alex. I sound very violent, jeez. It’s Alex, it’s not me. I’m like a little butterfly, I wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Unless I’m Alex, and then I would kick peoples’ butts.”
Anyone ready for chapter 2? Writer’s Block will be out tomorrow, and then I’ll be focusing solely on this new story. Hopefully that means weekly updates! I can’t wait for you all to see where this one is going. ;) Oh, and happy Halloween! Talk to me! Pbg
The Hob is bustling when Katniss arrives. She’s
thirty minutes late, but she kept her promise to show up. She scans the area,
eyes quickly roaming over the shiny, black-topped bar with it’s mirrored
background that makes this small bar look twice its size. There’s a second room
with a few pool tables and a jukebox off the back, and Katniss makes her way
there when she doesn’t spot her coworkers.
Sure enough, a handful of them are there. Her
eyes find Peeta immediately with his light blonde hair and easy smile. He’s
standing next to Becky, who’s holding a wobbling pool stick in the wrong
position and bending over the table. It’s so obvious to Katniss that she’s
faking it - no one is that bad.
She watches with thinly veiled interest as Peeta
gives Becky pointers on how to hold the stick, leaning down beside her with his
own in hand. He’s not touching her, and Katniss knows he’s friendly and helpful
with everyone, but after Becky’s trip to her office earlier in the day, Katniss
isn’t fond of Becky’s usual display. It seems more… personal.
so like. mj always knew that flash was wealthy, you know. he drives a really
fancy car and he wears an expensive watch. his hair is always styled in that…rich
dude way. but she’s never really had to face how wealthy he truly is until she’s
driving deep into the suburbs, surrounded on either side by houses that keep
getting larger and more grandiose.
is in the back just, gawking. “that
house is the size of my apartment building!” “oh my goodness, is that a fountain?” “that car has a rolls royce just
parked in the driveway!” and ned’s
gasping breaths are the soundtrack to their car ride because peter’s phone died
and they don’t know the radio stations this far out of the city.
they finally pull up to his house, there is a large driveway that leads up to
an even larger house. cars are lined up and down the block and they seem some
people from school walking up the driveway. mj parks around the corner and
takes a deep breath. she turns around to look at ned and betty and smiles, “ready?”
she looks back at peter, he has the odd look on his face that she doesn’t
really want to deal with right now. “ready, loser?” she asks him. and before he
can answer, she opens the car door and stretches. when she walks around the car,
peter is waiting for her. “ready as ever.” he answers.
can’t help it so she wraps her arms around his shoulders and he wraps his arm
around her waist. they walk like that to the party, peter snug under her arm
and him pulling her close.
ignores the smug look on ned’s face when he wiggles his eyebrows at her. she
just turns and looks straight ahead, allowing herself to enjoy the feel of his
fingers squeezing at her waist.
Can we have a bughead living together please whether that's them living as southside serpents or just in riverdale love a bit of fluff ☺️❤️
A little early morning fluff!
“I don’t know, the boy just always smells like cigarettes and…cupcakes.” Viper said
“And his jacket never has rips in it.” Hause added
“Not to mention how panicked he gets when he gets a black eye in a fight, always mumbling something about “she’s gonna kill me”“ Venom shrugged, rubbing his head.
"Plus he rushes out of here soon as our meetings are done, doesn’t even stay for drinks afterwards” Harley continued, taking a swig of his beer.
The Gang leaders sat perched high on their bar stools, almost like Royalty on their thrones watching over the court.
Jughead Jones was one of the newest members of the Serpents, an excellent addition to the dangerous gang with his quick wit and even quicker left hook. He was F.Ps son and the calm, collected way he carried himself was almost identical to his fathers. But their was something different about this boy, unlike many of the young members he wasn’t a brute , he didn’t dedicate his life to the gang, he simply did what he had to do and headed home. But what was he going home too was the question.
Viper watched as the dark haired young man checked his phone and smiled before handing off his pool stick to one of the younger Serpents, laughing and waving as he headed out of the bar, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Quirking a brow, Viper turned to the older men,
“Alright men, who’s up for a little investigating.”
The men all smirked, always up for a little fun.
“I mean it’s like she never lets Smithers drive her home anymore, I don’t even know how she’s getting home!” Veronica pouted, dropping her hands to the cafeteria table.
“I know what you mean, i haven’t seen Betty through the window in weeks, I texted her last night and told her to come to the window to talk and she said she was too "busy” she’s never to busy to talk.“ Archie said, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.
"All I know is that Alice and Betty are getting along much better, they even invited me to get pedicures last week and there wasn’t one nasty word between the two of them.. it was almost like they were friends.” Kevin shrugged.
Suddenly Cheryl Blossom was dropping her purse onto the table.
“Are you people really that dumb?” She asked, staring down at her cherry red nails.
“Excuse me..” Veronica started
“You’re excused. It’s fairly obvious what’s going on here, our very own resident Holly Homemaker, is no longer living at home. Perhaps she’s living with someone else.. someone who I don’t know, no longer goes to this school.” She flipped her long red hair leaving the three teens to stare at her retreating back
“You don’t think..” Kevin said wide eyed
“There’s no way.” Archie said finally
“Looks like we’ve got our own sleuthing to do.”
Veronica smirked wickedly.
Jughead walked through the doors to the trailer, instantly shrugging off his jacket and inhaling the sinful smell of lasagna. His eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the combination of the Lasagna and what he deduced were most definitely brownies, rounding the corner into the kitchen he leaned lazily against the door frame.
Betty was bent over the oven, her tiny cheerleading skirt rising up, giving him the perfect view of her blue boy shorts, she was wiggling along to Frank Sinatra playing on her phone as she held a chocolate covered spoon in front of her. Jughead walked slowly towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his nose into her neck, her distinctly feminine perfume, mixed with the chocolate from the spoon had him moaning in appreciation.
“Hi juggie.” She whispered, turning in his arms and holding out the spoon to him as he licked it greedily, causing her to burst out in giggles and drop a kiss to the side of his mouth, licking off the remaining fudge.
“Hi Juliet.” He smirked, pulling her even tighter against his body, reveling in the way her eyelashes fluttered.
“How was school?” They both asked at the same time, before erupting in fits of laughter. Hotdog chose that moment to come barreling in, pawing at Betty who bent down and handed him a spare pasta noodle. Jughead rubbed hotdog with his calf, refusing to let go of Betty.
“Smells good” he whispered, dropping his forehead to hers.
Betty grinned, rubbing her nose against his
“You smell better.”
Jughead growled lowly, his eyes scanning hers with a mischievous smile
“Oh yeah, how good?” He asked, picking her up bridal style as she squealed, as soon as they were standing in the doorway to their bedroom, they heard chaos at their front door, Jughead stiffening as Betty wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.
He slowly placed her on the floor
“Stay here.” He ordered, dropping a slow kiss to her lips.
Moving to rip open the front door he couldn’t believe what he saw.
“Viper? Archie? Venom? Veronica?! What are you doing here?”
Standing before his trailer was the four older Serpents and his three Riverdale friends, Veronica standing huffily in front of Viper as Archie shook his head behind her, Kevin hiding behind the red head. Venom, Harley and Hause were all watching the scene with amused eyes.
Viper turned to Jughead
“We found these guys snooping around the outside of your trailer. You know them?”
“Snooping?!” Veronica squeaked “I’m sorry but if anyone was was snooping I would say it was you. Jughead they were five seconds away from looking into your window.”
Harley shook his head
“Now listen little lady…”
Archie stepped forward
“You better not step closer to my girlfriend dude”
All eight sets of eyes turned to the door, where Betty was standing, wiping her hands on a rag.
“Now we can stand outside all day and argue or you guys can come inside and have some dinner, we’d be happy to have you in our home” Betty smiled as Jughead tucked his girlfriend protectively against his arm, smiling adoringly at her.
“Your home? As in both?”
“You live together?”
“The Jones boy has a girl? Atta boy?”
“That explains it”
“Come on them, there’s plenty for everyone.”
As the very different personalities filtered into Betty and Jughead trailer, Jughead bent down and dropped a kiss to the side of Betty’s head
“You ready for this?”
She looked up into his eyes, pressing her lips to his for a longer kiss
“I didn’t expect to hear from you.” Harry reached across the table and squeezed Peter’s hand gently. “When you didn’t call me back…”
“I’m sorry.” Peter chewed at his bottom lip. “I probably should have called you but I wanted to have this conversation in person. For old times sake and all that.”
“Of course.” Harry took a sip of his coffee. “It’s a good look on you by the way.” He motioned to Peter’s neck, to the bonding mark prominently on display above the collar of his shirt. “Being mated.”
“Thanks.” Peter blushed and looked down. It had been almost a month but he still got a little flustered whenever anyone congratulated him on his new bond. The mark was still the bright red of a recent mating, and even though it would eventually turn to silver, right now everyone who passed him knew he was newly bonded. “I’m um–Harry I–”
“Hey.” Harry squeezed his hand again. “I knew when you didn’t call me back that everything had worked out with your Alpha.”
“Yeah, Pete. I watched the news–” Harry lowered his voice so no one would overhear. “I saw what you did, to save those people. It was incredible. And I saw the way your Alpha came running to pick you up and carry you away. When I called, I knew you would only call me back if things didn’t work out between you two. And obviously they did.”
Harry sat back with a grin. “I’m happy for you Pete.”
“But I thought you wanted–” Peter sighed. “I shouldn’t even bring this up, but your voicemail, you said–”
“You know what, honey?” The Alpha sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I meant everything I said, of course I did. But you and I– how long have we known each other?”
“Since we were six.” Peter answered promptly. “First grade.”
“Right.” Harry smiled fondly. “And we were sophomores when we presented and started sharing heats together right? We were basically a couple up until after graduation. But we never actually were. We were always just friends who shared heats to make that sort of thing easier on each other. Which was fine. It was always nice, right?”
“And Pete, things were always good between us, but never once in all those years did we ever imprint on each other. Not once. And that tells me that we aren’t meant to be together.”
“You on the other hand–” Harry cleared his throat. “–imprinted so strongly on your Alpha that even a month after sharing a heat and him leaving you were still unable to say Alpha without getting sick. And I can’t argue with that sort of thing.”
“I’m sorry.” Peter whispered and Harry shook his head.
“I’m not. I’m not. What you have with this Alpha is something you and I wouldn’t ever have. Something that seems wild and dangerous and even though I know–” he softened his voice again. “–about the Spider-Man thing, your Alpha lives it. Understands it and understands that part of you in a way I could never hope to. You and I would be fine together and things would be nice and easy but… who wants nice when there’s something more exciting out there for both of us?”
Tears welled in Peter’s eyes and slipped down his cheek and Harry reached out to brush them away, to cup his jaw.
“I love you, Pete.” Harry got out of his seat and knelt by Peter’s side, laying the barest kiss on his lips. “But you are where you’re supposed to be, with the Alpha who’s meant for you. To be honest, your scent has changed so much after bonding that I hardly recognize it anymore. You smell like you’re his. And that’s perfect.”
“Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy. Any of us will.”
“I was plannin’ on getting boozed up tomorrow night. If I don’t, I’ll walk over and find y'all.”
“Okay, greasers, you’ve had it.”
“Who’s this, your great-aunts?”
“Sorry, kid. I forgot.”
“Shoot. You’re ninety-six if you’re a day.”
“Brother, you’re a sharp one. Where’d you two ever get to be picked up by a couple of greasy hoods like Pony and Johnny?”
“Five. They don’t talk Arabian, I don’t think. Say somethin’ in Arabian, Johnnycake.”
“Hey, where is ol’ Dally, anyways?”
“He’ll probably find the fight. That’s why I came over. Mr. Timothy Shepherd and Co. are looking for whoever so kindly slashed their car’s tires, and since Mr. Curly Shepherd spotted Dallas doing it…well…Does Dally have a blade?”
“Good. Tim’ll fight fair if Dally don’t pull a blade on him. Dally shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“A fair fight isn’t rough. Blades are rough. So are chains and heaters and pool sticks and rumbles. Skin fighting isn’t rough. It blows off steam better than anything. There’s nothing wrong with throwing a few punches. Socs are rough. They gang up on one or two, or they rumble each other with their social clubs. Us greasers usually stick together, but when we do fight among ourselves, it’s a fair fight between two. And Dally deserves whatever he gets, ‘cause slashed tires ain’t no joke when that was his fault. Our one rule, besides Stick together, is Don’t get caught. He might get beat up, he might not. Either way there’s not going to be any blood feud between our outfit and Shepard’s. If we needed them tomorrow they’d show. If Tim beats Dally’s head in, and then tomorrow asks us for help in a rumble, we’ll show. Dally was getting kicks. He got caught. He pays up. No sweat.”
“You dig okay, baby. Anyone want a weed?”
“Me, too. Get Johnny some, too. I’m buyin.”
“You must make such interestin’ conversation, you keepin’ your mouth shut and Johnny not sayin’ anything.”
“Who is it? The F.B.I.?”
“And a few other of the socially elite checkered shirt-set.”
“Who’s acting? I’m a natural normal.”
“Don’t get mouthy, Ponyboy.”
“No…no, Ponyboy, that ain’t right…you got it wrong…”
“Shut your mouth, kid. If you wasn’t Soda’s kid brother I’d beat the tar out of you. You know better than to talk to Johnny like that.”
“He didn’t mean it Johnny.”
“Shut up talkin’ like that. We couldn’t get along without you, so you can just shut up!”
“I know. The chips are always down when it’s our turn, but that’s the way things are. Like it or lump it.”
“Who you callin’ bums?”
“Then pity the back seat.”
“Why? We ain’t scared of them.”
“Well, those were two good-lookin’ girls if I ever saw any.”
“Marcia’s number. Probably a phony one, too. I must have been outa my mind to ask for it. I think I’m a little soused.”
“Y'all goin’ home?”
“I don’t know why I handed you that busted bottle. You’d never use it.”
“Gonna go play a little snooker and get hunt up a poker game. Maybe get rip-roarin’ drunk. I dunno. See y'all tomorrow.”
“Hey, Ponyboy. Long time no see.”
“Man, dig baldy here! I wouldn’t have believed it. I thought all the wild Indians in Oklahoma had been tamed. What little squaw’s got that tuff-lookin’ mop of yours, Ponyboy?”
“What I like is the ‘turn’ bit. Y'all were heroes from the beginning. You just didn’t ‘turn’ all of a sudden.”
“Why is it very bad?”
“I’ll babysit him. I haven’t got anything better to do.”
“Work? And ruin my rep? I wouldn’t be babysittin’ the kid here if I knew of some good day-nursery open on Saturdays.”
“…anyway, I was walking around downtown and started to take this short cut through an alley…and I ran into three guys. I says ‘Howdy’ and they just look at each other. Then one says 'We would jump you but since you’re as slick as us we figure you don’t have nothin’ worth takin’.’ I says 'Buddy, that’s that truth’ and went right on. Moral: What’s the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley?”
“No, another social outcast!”
“This house ain’t messy. You oughtta see my house.”
“Shoot, kid, if I ever did that my mom would die of shock.”
“I would drive us, but the breaks are out on my car. Almost killed me and Kathy the other night. You oughtta see Kathy’s brother. Now there’s a hood. He’s so greasy he glides when he walks. He goes to the barber for an oil change, not a haircut.”
“You know the rules. No jazz before the rumble.”
“They treatin’ you okay, kid?”
“Don’t talk. Just listen. We’ll bring you some hair grease next time. We’re havin’ the big rumble tonight.”
“It’s too bad you and Dally can’t be in it. It’s the first big rumble we’ve had—not countin’ the time we whipped Shepard’s outfit.”
“Did you know you got your name in the paper for being a hero?”
“You want anything besides hair grease, kid?”
“Okay. Don’t y'all run off.”
“I wish it was any one of us except Johnny. We could all get along without anyone but Johnny.”
“No wonder he hates your guts.”
“Oh, lordy! He has to live with that.”
“We just left him. I don’t know about stuff like this…but…well, he seemed pretty bad to me. He passed out cold before we left him.”
“You feel okay? You’re awful hot.”
“All right. But Darry’ll kill me if you’re really sick and go ahead and fight anyway.”
“You know somethin? You’d think you could get away with murder, living with your big brother and all, but Darry’s stricter with you than your folks were, ain’t he?”
“You know, the only thing that keeps Darry from bein’ a Soc is us.”
“I never knew you to play chicken in a rumble before. Not even when you was a little kid.”
“Somethin’ is gonna happen. We’re gonna stomp the Socs’ guts, that’s what.”
“What’s up with the big-times?”
“Welup, I see we’re in prime condition for a rumble. Is everybody happy?”
“Get thee hence, white trash. I am a Soc. I am the privileged and the well-dressed. I throw beer blasts, drive fancy cars, break windows at fancy parties.”
“I jump greasers!”
“Shoot, everybody fights.”
“They’re running! Look at the dirty —— run!” (Ponyboy isn’t sure if Two-Bit says it or not, but we could count it as him.)
“So he finally broke. So even Dally has a breaking point.”
“You really would have used that bottle, wouldn’t you? Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn’t need to. You’d have really cut them up, huh?”
“Ponyboy, listen, don’t get tough. You’re not like the rest of us and don’t try to be…”
“What in the world are you doing?”
“You little sonofagun.”
“No, but that’s what I’m wishing was all that’s bothering me.”