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marypsue · 1 year

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So if you follow me (and aren't just stopping by because you saw one of my funney viralposts), you probably know that I've been writing a bunch of fanfiction for Stranger Things, which is set in rural Indiana in the early- to mid-eighties. I've been working on an AU where (among other things) Robin, a character confirmed queer in canon, gets integrated into a friend group made up of a number of main characters. And I got a comment that has been following me around in the back of my mind for a while. Amidst fairly usual talk about the show and the AU and what happens next, the commenter asked, apparently in genuine confusion, "why wouldn't Robin just come out to the rest of the group yet? They would be okay with it."

I did kind of assume, for a second or two, that this was a classic case of somebody confusing what the character knows with what the author/audience knows. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like it embodies a real generational shift in thinking that I hadn't even managed to fully comprehend until this comment threw it into sharp perspective.

Because, my knee-jerk reaction was to reply to the comment, "She hasn't come out to these people she's only sort-of known for less than a year because it's rural Indiana. In the nineteen-eighties." and let that speak for itself. Because for me and my peers, that would speak for itself. That would be an easy and obvious leap of logic. Because I grew up in a world where you assumed, until proven otherwise, that the general society and everyone around you was homophobic. That it was unsafe to be known to be queer, and to deliberately out yourself required intention and forethought and courage, because you would get negative reactions and you had to be prepared for the fallout. Not from everybody! There were always exceptions! But they were exceptions. And this wasn't something you consciously decided, it wasn't an individual choice, it wasn't an individual response to trauma, it wasn't individual. It was everybody. It was baked in, and you didn't question it because it was so inherently, demonstrably obvious. It was Just The Way The World Is. Everybody can safely be assumed to be homophobic until proven otherwise.

And what this comment really clarified for me, but I've seen in a million tiny clashing assumptions and disconnects and confusions I've run into with The Kids These Days, is that a lot of them have grown up into a world that is...the opposite. There are a lot of queer kids out there who are assuming, by default, that everybody is not homophobic, until proven otherwise. And by and large, the world is not punishing them harshly for making that assumption, the way it once would have.

The whole entire world I knew changed, somehow, very slowly and then all at once. And yes, it does make me feel like a complete space alien just arrived to Earth some days. But also, it makes me feel very hopeful. This is what we wanted for ourselves when we were young and raw and angrily shoving ourselves in everyone's faces to dare them to prove themselves the exception, and this is what I want for The Kids These Days.

(But also please, please, Kids These Days, do try to remember that it has only been this way since extremely recently, and no it is not crazy or pathetic or irrational or whatever to still want to protect yourself and be choosy about who you share important parts of yourself with.)

#also Kids These Days please if nobody's told you: you can't send cheques through email #and if somebody sends you one through email They Are A Scammer and Yes They Are Scamming You #that's not related I just am constantly tearing my hair out about how many people of ALL AGES don't know that #something something something invoking the fuck word in the hopes it will keep this poast from search #i love how the internet has created Magic Words Of Power #unfortunately most of those words perform the action of 'summon jackass idiots to comment on your post'#i am paraphrasing the comment that was left on my AU fic because I am too lazy to go looking for it right now but #it was very similar to that wording #this is just a thing that has been rattling around in my brain and it was finally smoothed out and polished enough to come out

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kennahjune · 6 months

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Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

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strangersatellites · 1 year

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It had all started in Photography 101.

All he had needed was one more elective added to his schedule for the fall semester to be considered a full-time student. It was Robin who had suggested photography.

Steve had never had that great of a memory to begin with, the numerous blows to the head from juvenile high school fights certainly doing him no favors. Sometimes the amount of time it took to jog Steve’s memory surpassed the time it would’ve taken to simply tell him the story as if he hadn’t been there himself.

He was always able to grasp the memory eventually, but sometimes they were slippery in his mind.

He and Robin had found that his memory was ten times better if he had something to look at. Sometimes that was a souvenir from a trip, sometimes it was a takeout menu with his order circled in red pen, sometimes it was a physical scar on his skin from some silly injury. But most of the time it was pictures.

Steve took to taking photos of everything. His friends, his food, the landscape, a book with a pretty cover, anything he wanted to be able to remember.

The walls of his room grew to be covered with polaroids and prints, some staged, most not. Many blurry and out of focus, but in the moment just the same.

So when Robin suggested Photography 101, Steve saw an opportunity to take something he did for his own benefit and turn it into something he really enjoyed, something he was good at.

The semester was a breeze and Steve flourished under the attention of his professor. He was constantly drowning in compliments about the movement in his photos and his eye for composition.

(Robin would tell him on several occasions that she had never seen him enjoy something this much.)

By the time the semester was coming to a close, he was left with one final project. The professor had been intentionally very vague in her description of it throughout the semester, so Steve was a little on edge.

Sitting in the front row of the small classroom, he twirled the strap of his camera around his fingers while he daydreamed. The room slowly filled and the professor settled in behind her desk.

About five minutes after class was supposed to have begun Steve noticed they were all still sitting in silence. Glancing at the professor he saw her brows furrow and a frustrated lilt to her lips as she looked at her watch.

What are we waiting for?

She stood and dusted off her pants before clapping her hands together.

“Well,” she began, “I guess we can go ahead and get start–”

The door at the back of the room swung open and knocked against the wall with a resounding slam.

“Shit! Fuck! So sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”

Steve is so caught off guard by the man who just burst into the room that he barely even registers the words he’s saying.

He’is tall and all lanky muscle, dark curls and jewelry, tattoos and the smell of smoke, chains and leather and everything Steve’s not. Everything nobody in this class is.

He’s even more caught off guard when his professor laughs and pulls the man into a tight hug. There are only five other students in this class, surely he’s not the only person confused.

He keeps an arm around her shoulders as she introduces him to the group.

“Guys, this is Eddie. He’s a family friend and he’s going to be your subject for your final project.”

Steve’s own eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand how this was the project she has been keeping under wraps. They’ve had plenty of portrait sessions this semester, with models and subjects of their choice alike.

The guy, Eddie, claps a hand to his chest in a dramatic show of faux humility.

“Thank you for having me, Joyce. It's such an honor to be here.”

She smacks at his arm and carries on.

“So, Eddie is your subject and you have no parameters. The only requirement is that he is the inspiration for your shoot. This can look like a standard portrait session, this can be contemporary urban street photography, whatever you like. Eddie does not even have to be in the photo! He just has to be the inspiration for it.”

Steve's brain is already running a mile a minute, conceptualizing shots faster than he can keep up.

Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.

But one idea sticks out from the rest. As Steve lifts his eyes to Eddie once more and meets his own twinkling with mirth and smirking back at him he makes his decision.

He’s going to take his mugshot.

*****

“I want to take your mugshot.”

They’re at the campus coffee shop. Joyce had scheduled a few hours for Eddie to meet with the other students during their class time so they could talk through their projects.

Eddie barks out a laugh. “What, man?”

Steve twirls his straw around his drink and tries not to bristle at the reaction.

“Look,” he starts, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I don’t really know where the idea originated but once I had it, it stuck. I just saw this vision of the shot in my head and it was sick, dude.”

Eddie leans back in the booth, one of his boots knocking into Steve’s foot under the table. He crosses his arms and tilts his head.

“Thought this shoot was supposed to be inspired by moi,” he says, gesturing a hand towards himself. “You saying I look like I should be in jail?”

Steve groans and puts his head in his hands. “No. I already told you I don't know where i got the idea–”

But that’s a lie isn’t it. He knows exactly where he got the idea. It was somewhere between the chains dangling from Eddie’s jeans and the handcuff belt he was wearing the day they met.

He put his hands together on the table between them. “Okay. No, I’m not saying you look like a criminal, Eddie. I’m saying I think you want to look like one.”

Eddie blinks at him for a moment before his face breaks into a slow smirk. He huffs a quiet laugh and leans closer. “Guilty as charged, Stevie. Besides, I was arrested once actually.”

Steve gawks while Eddie laughs. He is unfairly attractive when his dimples pop and Steve is going to have such a hard time holding it together behind the camera.

*****

Steve takes his shoots very seriously. Every detail has to be perfect, even the ones not relating to the subject of the photo.

So it is wildly convenient that his professor happens to be married to the chief of police back in Hawkins.

One quick phone call from Joyce and Steve and Eddie were granted access to the booking room at the police station. You know, for the sake of realism.

Steve’s setting up his tripod while Eddie takes a chalk marker to the placard and writes up his own booking ID, a long series of random numbers with E.M at the end.

Steve would be lying if he said Eddie’s choice of clothing wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.

He’s wearing a ratty, old band t-shirt for some group Steve’s never heard of. There’s his usual black leather jacket and the silver chain around his neck. His ripped black jeans and fingers covered in rings and black nail polish.

It's perfect for the shoot. But Steve’s sanity is struggling.

He gets the camera and the lighting set up just as Eddie steps into place in front of the height measurement wall.

Steve puts his hands on his hips and gives instructions.

“Okay, so I know you’ve done this before–”

“Hey! It was one time!”

“So you know how this goes. We’ll do one forward and then one to each side.”

Eddie shakes out his hair and rolls his shoulders back. He holds the placard up in front of him and levels the camera with a dead-eyed stare.

He looks good.

Steve is less than shocked that he looks even better on camera.

He lines up his shot. Click.

Eddie turns to his left. Steve gets a little distracted by the line of his jaw.

Click.

He turns to the right and of course only now does Steve notice his ear piercings.

Steve takes a deep breath and focuses.

Click.

Before he can even look through his shots Eddie is dropping the placard on the desk.

He’s halfway out the door before he grabs the frame and leans back in. “One second pretty boy, I have an idea.”

He’s back before Steve snaps out of his stupor at the nickname. This time, he has a pair of handcuffs swinging from his index finger.

Steve snatches them out of his hand. “Where did you get these?”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “I know a guy.”

He rolls his eyes.

He’s already picking up the placard and setting up some detail shots when Eddie grabs his wrist and stops him. He freezes for more than one reason.

“Hey, uh. Not to step on your toes or anything, but I actually have another idea.”

Steve is about to start on his spiel about ‘not messing up his flow’ when Eddie rubs his thumb over the inside of his wrist. Gentle and reassuring.

“Do you trust me?”

Honestly Steve has no reason to trust him, he’s basically a stranger.

A pretty one. His brain supplies.

But he does. Trusts him enough to let him take Steve’s creative liberties and throw them out the window apparently.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Eddie’s smile is blinding. He turns Steve’s hand over and drops the handcuff key into it.

“Don’t lose this big boy,” he says as he snaps the cuffs around each of his own wrists.

Steve laughs, loud and shocked. He waggles his eyebrows at Eddie.

“Well, now didn’t this take a turn.”

Eddie rolls his eyes this time and lifts his hands as much as he can.

“Don’t try to sexualize my creative prowess, Steve. I am a professional.”

He nearly trips on his way back to his place in front of the wall and Steve has to hide his laugh into a cough.

Steve’s back behind the camera, hands back on his hips when he asks, “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Eddie smiles and says, “You just shoot, Harrington. I’ll do the rest.”

He leans down to finalize his camera settings and line up his shot. When he finally looks through the viewfinder his jaw drops. Because while Eddie was clearly joking about being a professional, if Steve didn’t know any better, this shot would have him believing it.

Eddie’s got both of his pinky fingers tucked in the corners of his smile, tongue bitten between his teeth. His thumbs are raised along with his middle fingers, while he’s got his nose scrunched and one eye squeezed shut. The cuffs hang right under his chin and accentuate his silver jewelry in a way Steve never would have anticipated.

Click.

The next is a close-up of the booking placard between his teeth.

His hands twisting to unlock his own cuffs.

He’s a natural, and Steve’s camera roll can attest to the fact.

It wouldn’t be until Steve was reviewing and editing the shots that he caught on. The booking ID on the placard looked long because it was. It was Eddie’s number.

*****

Steve got an A.

He got an A, an endless stream of compliments from Joyce and a dorky hot boyfriend.

The rest of the class went the route Steve expected them to.

Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.

But Steve’s mugshot series stood leagues above the rest.

Later in their lives, when one of their friends would see the photo in Steve’s wallet they would ask when Eddie got arrested and why.

It quickly became a game between the two.

He’s been arrested in high school for selling drugs (True.)

When he was twenty for public indecency.

At twenty-two for arson.

Thirty for contract killing. This one was followed up with the claim that he was in witsec and was now going to have to change his identity and flee the country.

But the real when and why Eddie got arrested is because when he was twenty-one Joyce told him there was a nice boy in her class that she thought he should meet.

#photographer x mugshot au #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #one thing about me: my Eddie is going to be a jackass in every universe #also not to toot my own horn #BUT #Joyce being the professor? when her son??? is a photographer?? who probably learned it from her????#toot toot bitch #its canon I don't make the rules #can you guys tell I am a photographer be honest #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #gin writes #fin gin #shot of gin #steddie nation #come get y'all juice

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dunnswrld · 10 months

Text

“dont make a mess sweetheart i gotta stunt in ten minutes.”

is what johnny said to you as he lifted his head from the sweet spot between your thighs, a cocky grin plastered on the fake cowboys face as your juices and his spit dripped down his chin.

“f-fuck off.”

you said breathlessly, johnny only letting out a soft chuckle before he spoke.

“aw dont be so mean.”

is all he said before he connected his lips with your sensitive cilt again. a moan leaving your lips as his mouth returned to the spot you needed him the most.

your fingers were tangled in johnnys brown hair as he ate you like his last meal, the sound of his soft groans could not only be heard but felt against your core; shivers going up your spin as your eyes crossed from the amount of overwhelming pleasure.

everytime johnny was between your thighs it was better then the last if thats even possible. you swear there was no man that enjoyed eating pussy more then your boyfriend did.

johnnys brown eyes looked up at you from between your thighs. his erection only ached more as he saw your reaction to him between your thighs, you looked completely overstimulated with pleasure and he loved it.

this only motivated johnny to push himself deeper between your thighs, his tongue lapping circles around your cilt as lewd slurping noises came from his actions. a high pitched moan leaving your lips as your grip on johnnys hair tightened.

“j-johnny i-im gonna-”

you felt johnnys grip on your hips tighten as he became almost determined to make you cum, and make you cum hard.

you could swear you saw stars as you let out a strain of moans as your hands tried to grab anything they could, a intense wave of pleasure shooting through your body as johnny didnt even care to slow down. he wanted you to be completely worn out from his tongue.

it wasnt until your chest began to rise and fall heavily did johnny stop, slowly kissing his way from between your legs to your cheek. he then gave you a sweet and passionate kiss, he slightly laughed feeling how lazily you kissed back. you were beat.

when johnny pulled away from the kiss you saw his mouth and face that was covered with your cum and his spit. your face couldnt help but turn red at seeing the aftermath of your boyfriend eating you out.

“i said dont make a mess sweetheart.”

johnny softly teased with a shit-eating smirk on his face, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his mouth off.

(coming back from the dead to write the smallest piece of whatever this is cause i had the urge to write maybe if it does good ill write again idk😟)

#jackass #johnny knoxville #bam margera #ryan dunn #jackass x reader #johnny knoxville x reader #steve o #chris pontius #wee man #danger ehren #dave englad #jackass fic #jackass fanfic #jackass imagines #johnny knoxville oneshot #johnny knoxville fic #johnny knoxville smut

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ethansespresso · 11 months

Text

possessive

johnny knoxville x gn!fem!reader

words: 2333

tags: smut!!!, possessive johnny, jealous johnny, minor degrading, bam is a whore, uhhh aftercare

summery: you’re pretty, johnny’s agitated that everyone’s looking at you.

maybe it's the daisy dukes, maybe it's the bikini top, or maybe it's the way the strings of your swimsuit bottoms fit your hips, but whatever it is, something has johnny red and jittery in his beach chair across the lawn.

his leg is shaking at a rapid pace, his fingers drumming on the arm with his jaw clenched and eyes darkened.

you glance at him, confused and questioning, but he gives no clues as to what's wrong.

you frown, it's almost scary seeing him like this, unknowing of if he might explode, and if so, who will it be directed at? bam? steve? you? you shudder. you know it's just the ptsd, he wouldn't, johnny would never raise his voice with you. even before he knew your past he was gentle with you. still, you can't help but be uneasy around him, and his unrelenting stare. it felt as though he might pounce on you. you wonder if he takes notice of you slipping into the kitchen, away from the heat and noise and his eyes that were seemingly undressing you. you're putting cups in the sink, rinsing out the stickiness from the spiked lemonade; you're on vacation with the crew, and the bonfire still going strong even after the long hours had gone by, though it seems that everyone is still going strong, too. your ice machine begins whirring as the spheres clank into your cup, but you still hear the creak of the back door opening.

you whip around, only to see bam, sopping wet with his swim trunks dipping dangerously low.

"hey," your eyes avert away from his waist, and there's johnny right behind him with the same death glare as he'd been giving you before. "do you have more beer? ryan and i wanna do beer pong together." he grins.

"what's the loser do? kiss the winner?" you snicker, trying to keep your eyes away from johnny watching you with an intense stare. you pour more lemonade into your cup, sipping as the burn runs down into you. shuddering again, you point at the cooler. "there, have at."

he nods thankfully, grabbing a couple of cases and scurrying out.

and then it's just you, and johnny, and your tipsy thoughts. you can't seem to croak anything out, his jaw clenches harder and fear overwhelms you, you can't think properly anymore. the alcohol is taking over your brain inch by inch, and somehow through your fear, you can see the hint of lust in his eyes.

you're pretty sure that glint is being returned.

he's towering over you, and you're positive it's because you glanced at the way bam's trunks went too far down. how his v-line protruded, but it was nothing like the man standing in front of you.

you didn't want him, you remind yourself before the guilt can set in. you were just afraid they'd drop right down on your kitchen floor leaving a soggy mess.

you want johnny. his trunks aren't sagging, but his v-line is much more visible, along with the slight six-pack. the golden skin, the soft happy trail, all sitting right before you, tempting your deepest, darkest desires. your mouth is watering as you get sucked deeper into your focus on him.

"sweetheart," and his voice is soft and gravelly, a sign he'd been drinking too.

you're broken out of your trance as he drawls, "doll, look at me," his fingers touch your chin to lift your gaze up to his. "they've been drooling over you all goddamn day," it's almost a growl when he speaks yet his hand cups your face ever so gently, you can't help but melt into his touch. he licks his lips, "it makes me sick how they stare at you, can't stand the thought of anyone touching you, you know? bam coming in here, his trunks like that, he knew what he was doing. you're so goddamn edible." he gives a little scowl that you can't help but want to kiss away. and as if he reads your mind, he dips down to kiss your lips, "all mine, my pretty little whore."

you nod, your shoulders relax, and seeing his eyes still dark you understand. there's a burning inside you, and you're not quite sure if it's the alcohol, how johnny's hands are touching you, or maybe a bit of both.

you belong to him, it sinks in and it makes heat bubble in your stomach, he's scooping you close and bringing you out, his hand in your back pocket with a firm grip on your ass.

wolf whistles call out from friends, mostly in a joking manner, but it still makes johnny huff in a sharp breath, glaring once again.

"you're so fucking sexy, look at all these vultures staring you down," he mutters to you, and you can't help but shiver at his words when a tingle shoots down to your core. you blush, feeling all eyes on you. it makes you feel insecure, and you need a way for everyone's eyes to get off you, but then johnny sits, pulls you into his lap, and starts kissing under your ear. "mine, all mine." he purrs, a big hand on your thigh, the other on top of your hand with your fingers interlaced with his.

his cock begins to harden beneath you, and your breath catches in your throat. you need him, your thoughts are racing with all the things you want him to do to you. you hope he catches the hint to have a bit more privacy and you purposefully scoot across his cock while getting down. "i'm going into the water, you can come." you offer with a soft smile as you step down the beach into the cool ocean of your rented vacation home. it's an off-white with a wrap-around deck; there's a patio where the cup-pong is getting set up, a pavilion with snacks and drinks, and then there's you and johnny crossing across the soft sand into the warm water. his hands are wrapped around your waist and you rest your head against his chest.

"the sunset is pretty." you relax against him as he nods, bringing you closer to him. your eyes focus on the blurring colors in the sky, relaxing into his tense body. you turn around to face him, your cheeks are pink from the alcohol and the burning sun. his eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and you find your mouth parted ever so slightly, staring in awe.

"kiss me," you can barely whisper out, you're so entranced by him you can't think. "please." and his lips are touching yours without the chance for a second thought, you're pressed tightly together in the cool water under darkening skies. everything is muffled around you, the yelling and the catcalls, all gone from both of your minds. it's all focused on each other, the way your mouths are together, the way he tastes and smells and feels. god the way his cock pressed against your stomach, the heat radiating from his body, the way he wouldn't pull away for a single gasp of air, it was bound to make you dizzy. his hand grabbed at your ass, his mouth is leaving yours, and it's trailing down your neck. "johnny," you give out a hushed whine when you feel his cock rut against your thigh. "yes, sweetheart?" you melt at his tone, possessive, owning, and desperate. yet you can't get out what you need, it's only a pathetic plea you hope johnny will understand. "mm," he hums in a satisfied way, his hand moving to the inside of your thigh. "i want you too, honey. let's go back inside, hm?"

you nod eagerly, your body aching for him. your body is burning from the inside out with a desperate desire for the man with his icy hands groping at you. your head spins as your lips connect once more, and you gasp suddenly when his teeth sink into your lip. he presses himself against you even harder, and your body quivers beneath him. the water is getting colder by the second with the moon creeping into the sky, but it doesn't quite register with you and your feverish arousal that the temperature is dropping rapidly. it doesn't feel quick enough, but you're practically running to keep up with his long strides back to the house. you brush against bam, his eyes wide as he looks at you, and then at johnny's stern expression, and he yells something unintelligible to johnny about getting laid. everyone is staring, you can tell that now, and something in your stomach churns into more excitement as you can tell they know exactly where you're going. "i’m gonna be doing the laying, actually." he quips with a sly smirk and a wink to you.

the door of your bedroom is slammed behind you, and then before you can breathe you're pressed against the door with johnny's knee between your legs.

"fuck," you gasp out, grinding down onto him. "need you."

he lets out a quiet growl, feeling your warmth on his thigh, "need you too, princess. c'mon." he lifts you up onto his hipbone, and easily placing you onto the bed like paper he begins to tug at your jean shorts. you're so helpless underneath him; his tall, strong being looming over you. he's staring at you like you're his prey, and he's finally got you in his captivity, even tho he knows he had you all along. he brings his head down to bite your lip again, kissing you in such a romantic way made everything he was doing feel even dirtier. his lips make their way down your neck and down to your abdomen, claiming you as his with love bites wherever his teeth could sink. you whimper under him when his hot breath ghosts over your cold thigh. he places soft kisses along the inside of your thighs up to your bikini bottoms, his other hand gripping onto your hip to keep you still. he kisses up to your clit, making you shudder. he grins mischievously, his thumb caressing your pelvic bone while he kisses up the waistline. sliding them down, he places even more sloppy kisses before flicking along your clit with his tongue.

you let out a quiet whimper as his warmth continues to envelop your most sensitive areas. before you can even begin to catch your breath, his finger is sinking into you, pressing into you harshly. "oh, fuck. oh, god," your voice is raising and you quickly cover your mouth to muffle your desperate moans.

"no, no, honey," and he's grabbing your wrists and pining them above the bed. "let them hear you, i need them to hear you." he demands, and instantly you let out a small whimper as if on command. his fingers quicken at your noise, and his lips are against your ear sending shudders through your body like his breath was electric. "who makes you feel good, doll?"

"you." you're gasping out, eyes rolling back as he presses into your g-spot.

"who, baby? who's touching you, hm? tell them who's making you feel good." he continues, and you can feel your orgasm creeping up.

"johnny-johnny, you do, fuck you make me feel good. please, i'm so close." you cry, getting just to your climax when he pulls out his fingers. "fuck, please, please, please." you're begging with watery eyes and flushed cheeks, and he's pulling down his swim trunks, letting his cock out to press against his stomach leaving a drip of precum.

"are you ready?" he asks softly, his dark eyes sparkling when they meet yours. you nod to him, whispering out a yes as he presses himself into you. every time with him always feels just as special as your first. the way he holds you, the way he encourages and compliments you, the way he stares as if you're a precious jewel. it makes you feel warm and tingly, it makes you teeter closer to reaching your abandoned climax from not so long ago. his thrusts stay rhythmic, rocking his hips against yours at a steady pace. your body rocks with his, his moans sending sparks flying through you.

"please, please i'm so close," you beg for him once more, and his thumb goes down to flick your clit. now you're squeezing around him, all of the feeling overwhelming your senses as he's urging you, "cum, cum for me, baby. let them hear how good you feel. that's it, there you go." and with a sharp cry of his name, you reach a breathless climax. you feel cum dripping out of you, and a hand caressing your stomach. "hi, sweetheart. there you go, good job." he praises, encouraging you to come back down to him. "you did so good, make me feel so good, sweetheart." he continues, and you can feel him cleaning you up, a soft, warm towel wiping at your aching thighs.

"thank you," you whisper, a smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. he leans in to kiss you softly, his body towering over you and his hands holding your face.

he smiles against your lips, "how 'bout a bath? or shower, hm?"

you can only nod, your throat aching in an unforgiving way. johnny leaves you to turn on the water, leaving the door open only a crack.

your head lays flat against the pillow, and you listen to the muffled voices outside.

“shit, knoxville.”

“yea, precious little thing,” the distinct drawl of your boyfriend, continuing to praise you.

the door creeks open, and johnny’s there coming to scoop you up and into the shower. “come on, princess.”

you peck his lips, laying bridal style in his arms. “i love you,” it’s hushed and soft, even though you wish the world could hear you.

“i love you.”

#johnny knoxville #steve-o #jackass #jackass fic #jackass smut #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville smut

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prettyyoungandbored · 6 months

Text

Playboy - Johnny Knoxville

Pairings: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of nudity

Author’s Note: A short Johnny Knoxville x Babydoll fic.

NOT MY GIF

“I was thinking maybe we get the guys into a glitter pool,” Jeff spoke up.

Y/N snorted, her coffee cup to her lips. “The clean up process is gonna be bitch. We did a similar concept for a ‘Playboy’ shoot once and it took us two hours to clean up everything.”

Johnny perked his head up, interested. “Wait what about ‘Playboy’?”

“Oh, I worked production on some ‘Playboy’ shoots,” she shrugged.

“She also wrote for the magazine,” Jeff added. He turned his attention back to Y/N. “They really made you guys clean it up? Doesn’t the mansion have like a clean up crew?”

“Yeah for the mansion,” she said. “The shot ended up looking amazing but it was just awful to clean up.”

Johnny tuned out the rest of the conversation as his mind drifted to daydreams of Y/N posing for Playboy.

======================================

An hour later, he wandered over to Y/N’s makeshift office where she finished printing the shooting schedules for the week.

“Hey you!” she beamed. “I was thinking about stopping at the store and bringing some dessert for the Margera’s dinner tomorrow tonight. Any ideas?”

He waved his hand. “Anything will be great. So, ‘Playboy’, huh?”

She made a face. “You do realize it is not that big of a deal, right? Like it was a job.”

“But then you wrote for the magazine too?”

“Yeah. Hugh Hefner and I got into a conversation one time and he was interested in my writing. I sent him a couple stuff and he published it.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “What did you write?”

“I can send you copies,” she laughed. “I wrote under a pseudonym.“

“Oh yeah? What was the name?”

“Maxine Flynn.”

Johnny nodded his head, making a mental note to search the went for the name. “Did you ever get scouted or asked to pose nude?”

She scrunched her face. “God no.”

“So you had a whole conversation with the man himself and he didn’t once ask you if you were interested in being a playmate?”

She chuckled. “I get where this is going and you’re very sweet, but no, I did not get asked to pose for the magazine or to be a playmate. All I did was some behind-the-scene stuff and some writing.”

He shoved his hands in his pants pocket. “You would’ve been my favorite playmate.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know what, you are my favorite playmate.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not how that works.”

“I don’t care. You’re my favorite playmate.”

She hummed. “I didn’t realize you would be ok with the entire world seeing my tits out.” She kissed his cheek. “Good to know though!”

She made her way out of the office when Johnny yelled out, “Hey, I never said that!”

======================================

Johnny spent hours reading Y/N’s stories for Playboy, blown away. Sure, he was aware of her creativity and brilliance, but he didn’t realize just how truly talented she was.

The knock on his hotel room door pulled him away from his rabbit hole. He opened the door to find Y/N standing there.

“I can’t sleep so I need to you cuddle me until I do,” she said, walking in.

He closed the door and watched her crawl into his bed.

She looked at him. “What?”

“Yeah, I just spend like a couple hours reading your Playboy stuff,” Johnny admitted, pointing to the laptop.

She glanced at the laptop and then back at him. “Ok, so ask me your questions while you cuddle me.”

She held out her arms as Johnny closed the laptop and then jumped into bed beside her.

As she cuddled to his chest, she yawned. “Alright, what questions do you have for me?”

======================================

Two Years Later…

Y/N knocked on Johnny’s home office door, holding a the wrapped gift behind her.

“What’s up, Babydoll?” Johnny asked, his eyes still on his desktop computer.

“I have a present for you.”

Johnny’s eyes now moved to her and he got up from his desk. “What is it?”

She presented him the wrapped item. “Think of it as a little engagement present.”

He pouted, taking the gift in his hands. “Cutie, you didn’t have to get me a present.”

“Oh, but I think you’ll like it,” she smirked.

Johnny ripped it open and his face dropped. It was a framed photo of what looked like a fake Playboy magazine cover with Y/N posing semi-nude. She held her bare breasts with her hands as her lower region was covered with a large text that read FUTURE MRS. KNOXVILLE.

Johnny fixated on it, unable to process what the hell she had given him. She smiled at him, delighted.

“I used my connections for the photo shoot and graphics,” she explained. “It looks real, doesn’t it?!”

Johnny turned to his face, eyes hungry.

“Bedroom. NOW.”

#johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville fic #jackass fanfic #jackass

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johnny-coxville · 1 year

Note

How about a really cute johnny and female reader (she's johnnys girlfriend but she doesn't do any of the stunts) fic where they're playing with the Super Mighty Glue for the third film and one of the other guys sticks the reader and Johnny together and he's really cute with it and finds it hilarious?

Figured I might as well mix the two aspects of the asks ;P

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Johnny x fem!reader fluff

♡

Too Close!

The glue that rested inside the wooden drawer was saved for a rainy day. That day. Was today. Johnny opened the blinds in the bedroom, squinting at the bright sunlight. The rain beat down on the window, giving cool air through the cracks.

He turned his head to you, where you slept softly. He made his way back over to the bed and sat down. Scratching your head, and brushing the hair out of your face. You slowly woke up, greeted by a soft kiss from Johnny. You smiled and kissed his lips. Laying your head back down on the pillow. You stretched your arms and yawned.

“Time to get up sweetheart, heading to Bam’s. It’s raining so you’re being dragged along to watch a stunt. I swear it’s harmless.” He said rubbing your shoulder. You sighed. “Alright. But if you get hurt I’m not driving you to the hospital this time.” You muttered. Of course, this was a bluff you always got so scared when he’d do such a dangerous stunt.

You two got up and dressed. Johnny slipped into his blue and white long-sleeve. Looping the belt through his black jeans. Tying his signature skull and crutches Converse. You took one of his flannels, sporting a black t-shirt underneath. Leaving it unbuttoned. You never bothered putting on a raincoat.

Finishing with your shoes, he slipped his jacket on. Grabbing the hotel keycard and sliding it into his jacket pocket. Passing you the car keys, you both headed into the heavy rain. Driving through PA wasn’t your favorite thing, but at least it wasn’t California traffic.

Johnny chatted the entire way there. Finally pulling into Bam’s driveway, multiple cars had already been pulled up. You were honestly nervous. You really weren’t interested in whatever house-destroying antics they were going to get up to.

Johnny reassured you, their plans wouldn’t be putting themselves in danger. You simply rolled your eyes and got prepared to run through the rain. Entering Bam’s parents, you shook yourself dry. Being greeted by April as usual.

She led you to the kitchen where the entire gang sat. You knew this would be trouble. All sitting at the table, like rowdy little children. They greeted you and Johnny. Sat on the table were a few containers of super glue. You looked at it unsure, looking over to Johnny.

Kosick stood leaning against the kitchen counter, camera mounted on his arm. Along with a few of the other film crew, just relaxing, waiting for the action to start. You were giving quite an unsure look. What were they going to do? Glue their lips to each other's assholes? See how far they could run with glue stuck to their feet? It had to have been something extremely outlandish.

¨Don’t look too excited for this Cons.” Dave giggled. You smiled. He always called you Cons because he could never remember your actual name. Converse were the only shoes you and Johnny ever wore, so the name stuck. “Not really. I mean. It’s probably a lot better than most of the things you’ve done.” You said pulling a chair at the table.

Bam took the initiative and stood at the foot of the table. “I say Johnny and Cons do something together! She’s never in our stunts. There’s no way we could hurt her with some super glue.” Bam said pointing at you. April facepalmed. She loved you dearly, and always talked you out of a stunt, no matter how small and stupid it was.

You nodded your head. “What are your plans.” You said caving. What’s the worse that could happen? “Alright, so you’re going to want to take your shirt o-” Before Bam could even finish Johnny cut him off with a flat no. Tremaine in the corner gave a suggestion. “Wee-man and Preston first. Just to see how it works out.” He said pointing to the two guys who uncomfortably shuffled. Sighing Preston got out of his seat.

Wee-man follows behind and stands with his arms folded. Never really fond of actually having to do a stunt. “Shirt off. Both of you” Tremaine said stepping closer with his smaller camera equipment. “Fucking seriously?” Preston scoffed.

He discarded his shirt, annoyed, and stood waiting for the next move. Wee-man reluctantly removed his shirt and stood face-palming. “Wait wait wait, I wanna do the glue!” You shouted. Tremaine shrugged his shoulders. “Works with me.” He said giving the go for filming. Everyone began to shuffle into place. Getting out of their chairs. The camera began to roll.

“Hello, I’m Johnny Knoxville! And this isss Super Mighty Glue!” He said reading the name off the glue bottle. You stood with an excited smile. “Here we have two very willing and lovely participants.” He said presenting Preston and Wee-man, with incredibly annoyed faces. You snickered taking over the bit.

“Alright, Preston you’re on the bottom, and wee-man you’re on top.” You said helping Preston slide onto the counter. The guys were already hysterical. Once Preston was on the table, you lathered his stomach full of glue. It smelled awful but surely felt even more often to feel on the skin. Wee-man was assisted onto the table, Bam shoving him backward while he was trying to balance.

“Bam!” April screamed, hitting him in the shoulder. Wee-man’s ass now glued to Preston's stomach. “Hold on! Hold on! I got this.” Johnny said pulling out a stun gun. Before he could even take a few steps Wee-man started to scream and fight, painfully ripping himself off of Preston's stomach. Preston screamed in pain pushing himself off the table. Both men jumping around and screaming.

“Someone fucking lather up Knoxville. This shit hurts!” Wee-man screamed out. Johnny wanting to prove some kind of point, maybe that he was tough, laid on the table, pulling his shirt off. “Lather me up, baby!” He said rubbing his hands together.

You squeezed two different bottles of glue onto his chest, cringing at the glue glopping and running down him. You crossed around the counter cautiously not to be stuck to Johnny in some stupid way. Just as you were ready to put the glue down, Dunn hauled you up by your shirt. You couldn’t fight his grip, being picked up like some kind of toddler by their onesie. He pressed you directly against Johnny’s bare sticky body. Johnny found this hysterical, you definitely did not.

“No fucking way! Get me off of him!” You shout. Everyone laughing except April. Johnny was nearly in tears by this point laughing, carefully trying to slide off the table. Every time you tried to pull yourself off of him, he’d squeal in pain. Your t-shirt was basically infused into his skin. Your flannel awkwardly stuck to the sides of his body where glue had seeped down.

Aww’s and laughter were spread throughout the room. You rested an angry face on his shoulder as he held you against his chest. “She’s reaallyyy stuck to me, man!” Johnny said showing you off to the camera. Flopping his body around trying to detach you. “Definitely going to have to cut her off of me..” Johnny said scratching his head. Glue stuck to his fingers getting caught up in his hair.

Looking into the camera he cringed. Ripping his fingers out of his hair, he pulled hair straight from his scalp. “Yep. I’m done! Can someone just. Set my shirt on top of her hand so she can change..” Knoxville asked.

April let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve got it.” She said leaving the kitchen. Coming back with one of her t-shirts for you to wear. You kept trying to kick at his knees, nearly having Johnny buckle over a few times. Giggling each time you made a poor attempt. “I’m going to glue your beard to someone’s pubes Dunn. I fucking swear on it.” You said as April wrapped the shirt around your neck for you to use shortly.

He giggled in the corner shaking his head. Johnny carried you around the house, holding you close. You felt like a baby strapped to his dad’s chest. Once you were nearly in the bathroom you could hear the other guys hollering. Assuming one of them had continued the bit.

He closed the bathroom door and shuffled himself to the counter to grab the scissors. You let out a heavy sigh. He giggled to himself, making eye contact from time to time. “I swear I could kill him PJ” You said pulling yourself slightly back to let him cut through the fabric. Thankfully these weren’t “good clothes”. You’d be fuming.

Once he had gotten the shirt undone, he just tore the flannel off. You finally were let go, sitting on the bathroom counter. You stared at his now extremely patchy chest, covered almost entirely in your shirt. You shrugged, sliding your new shirt on.

“Pugs! Not Drugs!” Johnny read your shirt. “That’s fucking great.” He sighed trying to relax his laughter. April always provided the best shirts. Another one to the collection. Once you had managed to clean the shirt pieces off Johnny, you both walked out to the kitchen. Dunn’s beard glued completely to the side of Bam’s face.

Idiots.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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hajihiko · 2 years

Text

"You don’t have to say that if you don’t mean it."

"I’m not pretending."

Couple more arts for There's Something Wrong With Mikan Tsumiki , my favourite two scenes probably (hard to choose tho). I wanted to put them next to each other, somehow I saw a connection right away, though that may just be me connecting nonexistent dots.

#Unexpected kindness vs unexpected cruelty kind of?#My little jackass is trying so hard to do good even though it's not his expertise #Getting slapped in the face right when he's trying to extend a hand and be nice in his own way #And hes right! Doesnt know it yet but he's doing so good wah wah #Me cheerleading from beyond the 4th wall like DONT LISTEN UR DOING GREAT SWEETIE HANG ON #An art #Mikan Tsumiki #Fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Hajime hinata #Sdr2 #Super danganronpa 2 #Danganronpa 2 #Danganronpa #I'm so excited for the direction of this fic twitching like a Greyhound waiting for that good good angst and confrontation

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asskickedbygirl · 1 year

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Hello I have jealous Knoxville brain rot and I was wondering if you could write a Knoxville x fem!reader where the reader is bams best friend and they grew up skating together attached at the hip but Johnny is fully into the reader and she’s into Johnny (he does not see this) but he thinks she and bam are going to date because everyone thinks they would make the perfect couple. It can take whatever direction you would prefer from there I just would die for some pining jealous Knox 😭

Going Up

[Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader]

Desc: Anon covered it but I made it smutty! As in elevator sex smutty...

A/n: need to put eyeliner on johnny rn. also I'm trying to do something different in all of my smuts so they don’t get boring or repetitive to write so lmk if you like it!! comments and reblogs make my day fr <3

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v, public sex (sort of), alcohol

3.4k words

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Bam and you were fucking around on your boards, doing stupid tricks and just wasting time until you were called to set. You always thought it was stupid that your call times were so early when you were never really needed until the afternoon at least. Nonetheless you showed up, bored and hungover.

“Fuck I’ve almost got it.” You bitched, irritated that you couldn’t succeed in the easiest tricks when your head was throbbing from the night before. Bam laughed,

“Yeah, sure you do.” This earned him a prompt thump on the arm from your fist, your teeth grinding.

“Shut up, dickhead.” He still laughed, only holding the site of injury this time. He looked up behind you and raised his eyebrows. You spun around to see who he was looking at only to see Johnny Knoxville staring over at the two of you, quickly shifting his gaze once you spotted him, pretending he wasn’t looking.

“Hmmm.” Bam hmmmed.

“What?” You asked, skating in circles around him.

“He’s got the hots for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “You think everyone’s got the hots for me.”

“Because they do!”

You scoffed, “Your ego for me is bigger than my own. No one even asks me out anymore.”

“That’s ‘cause they think we’re dating.”

You pouted in contemplation. “I guess. Well why won’t you date me then?!” You brought your arms around Bam’s neck in mockery as you skated past him, laughing as he attempted to shoo you off. You planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek like a drunken aunt.

“You’re gross. You’re like my sister, freak.” You giggled as Bam attempted to wipe your spit off his face, arms still wrapped around him.

Johnny swallowed thickly as he observed you acting all coupley with Bam, sipping the crappy cup of coffee he got from the catering table when Ryan wandered over to him and looked to see what he was gawking at. He sighed,

“You know they’re not dating, right?” Johnny was snapped out of his daze upon hearing his voice.

He cleared his throat, “What? Oh, uh. Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head, feeling caught. He bit his lip, looking back over to you, his heart beating a little faster the wider you smiled.

“She probably likes you dude. There’s not many women that don’t.” Johnny took another sip from his styrofoam cup, eyes still on you, shrugging. Ry just shook his head, chuckling under his breath. He patted Johnny reassuringly on his shoulder and walked away, leaving him to yearn a little longer. You glanced up to see Johnnys eyes still drinking you in. You smiled and waved at him jokingly, causing his cheeks to flush as he hobbled off. Maybe he does have the hots for you after all.

A few days later you were in your hotel room applying your makeup, ready to go hit the bars after filming on location in New York. Bam and you were sharing, not the same bed but still, it didn’t help the rumours. You carefully lined your lips with liner as Bam lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, bored out of his tree waiting on you.

“The bars are gonna be fucking closed by the time we leave.” You rolled your eyes, rubbing your lips together and tousling your hair.

“It’s not even eleven yet. We’re gonna be early freak.” Bam pushed himself off the mattress,

“Fuck this, I’m leaving with Ryan it’s too late to be this sober.”

He grabbed his jacket and key card and swung the door open only to be met with a tall figure, hand raised and ready to knock.

“Johnny.” Bam spoke, leading you to snap your head to take a look at the supposed man at your door.

“Hey.” The often confident man’s voice wavered awkwardly, as if he had been caught in a trap. Bam leaned back to look at you, then back to Johnny, smiling like an idiot.

“I was about to head with Ryan, you can come if you want or uh…” Bam raised his brows suggestively, something you didn’t spot. Johnny cleared his throat and swallowed thickly, contemplating for a moment whether or not he wanted to let it out that he’d rather stay with you.

“I can stay with her while she gets ready. Bring you down if you want.” He called out to you, biting the bullet. You flicked your hair away from your face, grinning,

“Sure. I’ll be ready in a minute anyways.” Bam shrugged and left the two of you to it, Johnny stumbling in and seating himself on the edge of your bed, observing you through the mirror as you smudged some more eyeliner in your waterline.

“That looks like it hurts. Is it not going into your eye?!” Johnny gritted his teeth together while you giggled.

“I’m used to it. Here let me put some on you.” You held the eyeliner pencil between your fingers and turned to face him though his hands were already raised up, refusing.

“Oh come on! It doesn’t hurt and you can wash it off if you really hate it!” You flashed your best puppy dog eyes which ultimately worked as he simply couldn’t say no to you when you looked like that. He rolled his eyes as you grinned, moving closer to him. His breath hitched as your knees brushed against his, hands holding himself up as he leaned back slightly, eyes peering up at you. You took your bottom lip between your teeth in concentration and rested your hand against his cheek, Johnny swallowing right after. You used your thumb to pull his eye down just a tad, enough to see his waterline and went right in to apply it, accidentally poking him straight in the eye.

“Ow!” The jabbed exclaimed, pulling away from you and holding his hand over his eye dramatically.

You rolled you eyes. “Alright sorry. It was only a poke! C’mere it didn’t even get in your waterline.” Johnny was about to protest but felt he couldn’t once you pulled his face forward again forcefully, tongue poking out of your mouth as you concentrated on the task at hand.

He looked up to the ceiling and pretended the situation wasn’t incredibly uncomfortable as your raised leg kneeled on his lap in order to get the job done, face so close to his own as you tediously worked on coating his under eyes with black eyeliner. He couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to take you in, somehow you looked even more beautiful when you were in concentration. Your eyes met his and you smiled with your brows knitted together, a little unsure on why he was gawking once again. Well not really unsure, you were fairly sure. As you got back to it, Johnny posed a question,

“So you do this with Bam a lot huh?” You rolled your eyes at the insinuation of it.

“Well yeah, ever since he saw Ville with it he begs me to do it all the time. He fucks it up whenever he tries to put it on himself.” You pulled the pencil away to admire your work as the first eye seemed done.

“Looks good.” You smile, Johnny trying to move his head to take a look in the mirror but your hand pulling his face away.

“Not yet. Lemme do the other one.” You repeated your movements of pulling his eye down slightly with your thumb to do the next one, brows knitted together.

Johnny looked up to you, sunken eyes boring into your face.

“So you and Bam huh?” You scoffed, that was a sentence you heard practically everyday.

“No. Not me and Bam. How long have I known you at this stage?!”

Johnny smiled. “I dunno. You’re sharing a hotel room so.” His southern voice drawled. You continued penciling in the makeup.

“Different beds idiot. MTV’s budget must be tight this year.”

Johnny bit his lip. “So there’s nothing going on there.”

You shook your head, “Nothing.” That’s when you finished the job, pulling away to admire your work.

“Not bad huh?” This time you allowed Johnny to look at himself, standing up to get closer to the mirror.

“Christ I look ridiculous.”

You laughed, “No you don’t! This is so in right now.” You folded your arms and came up to the mirror as well to look at his face through the reflection.

“Yeah it’s in for twenty year olds. I’m old remember?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re only like nine years older than me.”

Johnny flashed you a ‘careful’ look, but you smiled it off. He looked fucking hot if you were being honest, and that little crush you had on him was coming back in full force. You bit your lip as you and Johnny stared at each other for a little too long until he bustled off to the bathroom to attempt to scrub the liner off. His efforts were almost futile, a faint black still present in his waterline.

“That’s hot! No, seriously it looks good like that.” Johnny sighed as he realised he’d have to go out with a trace of makeup on his face.

“Are girls gonna think I’m gay?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Well you’ll have me on your arm so, hopefully not.” Johnny raised his brow at you but you ignored him, grabbing your purse, ready to hit the bars.

The bar everyone was meeting at was busy and bustling, a live band playing. You and Johnny arrived together of course and hit the bar immediately to get some drinks, already far too sober compared to the likes of Chris and Steve-o. You sat together in slightly close quarters, chatting amongst yourselves. You were enjoying his company, he smelled nice and the more you drank the more flirty you got. You had already punched Steve-o square in the arm when he made a dumb comment about Johnny’s ‘new look’ and an hour later his arm was draped over you. That was until Bam stumbled over to you all, clearly very drunk.

“You have to come dance with me. Now!” He reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you up and away from your arm candy.

“Hey!” You called out but Bam was already pulling you onto the dance floor, hands grabbing your waist to dance with you.

You reluctantly pulled your arms up around Bam’s shoulders. Sure you loved to dance but when you did with Bam and you were drunk, the rumours were only set ablaze. You tried to catch Johnnys eyes as you swung your hips, only seeing him grit his teeth and practically glare at Bam. Was he… jealous? You looked at your dance partner who was too inebriated to have any sort of spatial awareness, simply blindly moving you around. Out of the corner of your eye you spotted an attractive looking girl dancing by herself and so you hatched a plan. As Johnny continued to glare you pushed Bam off of you and practically shoved him towards the other girl.

“This is Bam!” You called out to her and she looked rather thrilled, must’ve been a fan.

As the new couple began to dance once more you strutted over towards Johnny who was now looking at you like a deer in the headlights.

“Come on. You wanna dance with me right? Well dance with me now!” You slipped your hand in his and pulled him up, dragging him behind you as you set off for the floor.

Johnny was in slight shock, his hands finding their way to your waist in a daze as you brought your arms around his neck, moving your hips with the beat. You looked up to Johnny and flashed a smug grin,

“Were you jealous Knoxville?”

Johnny blushed, laughing and shaking his head.

“So what if I was?”

You smiled even wider, taking Johnny’s hand from your waist and moving it down to cup your ass.

“You don’t need to be.”

You chewed your lip as his hands felt you up on the dance floor, not caring that people might see your skirt riding up and exposing your ass. Johnny looked especially attractive as he appeared almost flustered, cheeks burning red and eyes blown out. As the music changed you moved yourself around so your back was pressed against his chest, letting his arms drape around you and push you closer to him, feeling the outline of his dick press into your ass. You grinded to the beat of the loud music, feeling his breath on your neck and his stubble grazing your skin. It felt almost too intimate right there in the middle of all the bodies, sweaty and drunk, but god did you want him. You placed your hand over Johnny’s as it pressed into your stomach to hold you there and turned around so you could whisper in his ear,

“Wanna get out of here?”

Johnny only nodded, allowing you to lead him away from the crowds and out of the bar towards your hotel. Boy were you glad it was so close by as the desperation was radiating off of your hot bodies, clammy hands holding each other as you made your way through the streets, no talking necessary.

You both smiled politely at the receptionists as you wandered inside the hotel, trying to act as if you weren’t as desperate as you’d ever been, silently praying no stranger would join you in the elevator on your way up. Alas you were left alone, standing side by side as the doors shut. One second later Johnny flipped himself around and slammed his lips onto yours, forcing his leg between yours so they were parted and making out with you roughly. Your hands flew up to hold his face, letting out quiet whimpers as he took you with such force. His hands were already roaming over your body, fisting the fabric of the back of your skirt in his hand and pulling it up. If you didn’t know him any better you’d think he was about to fuck you in the elevator.

That’s when you felt it jolt, stopping on whatever floor you were on. You opened your eyes and pulled away from Johnny’s mouth in a panic, thinking something had broken but instead you were met with his hand over the emergency stop button, manical grin on his face. You covered your mouth with your hand, half shocked but entirely bemused.

“Are you serious?!” You laughed, completely bewildered.

“Couldn’t wait any longer.” is all he said, immediately diving back in to kiss you once more.

As your skirt had already been pushed up over your ass, in fact bunched up around your waist, Johnny’s fingers were smoothly tucked into the band of your panties, waiting for the moment he could finally pull them down. He took the opportunity as soon as your hand reached down to palm him over his pants, pushing your body against the wall of the elevator at the same time. You let out a groan as you frantically unbuckled his pants, him eventually giving in and shoving them down to pool around his ankles instead.

After some more hot and heavy making out, you felt Johnny’s hard cock press into the inside of your thigh and so you took matters into your own hands, freeing the member and urging him to fuck you against the cool metal walls of the box. You moaned as he entered you, his stubbly chin grazing your neck and lips kissing the skin tenderly as he began bucking his hips forward. He dug his thumbs into the skin of your waist to hold you still, your arms wrapping around his neck to brace yourself the faster he went.

Johnny’s grunts and your whimpers echoed around the elevator, it even jolted slightly with every thrust and it almost felt surreal that heart throb Johnny Knoxville was fucking you in a hotel elevator. You hid your girlish grin in the crook of his neck, kissing and sucking on it all the while.

“You think Bam could fuck me like this?” You whispered into his ear.

Sure it was evil but god did you love provoking the men that fucked you, it just makes everything more fun. Johnny laughed, more of a ‘fuck you’ sort of chuckle but he laughed nonetheless.

“You gonna talk about Bam while I’m balls deep inside of you?”

Johnny pulled his lips away from your neck to look you in the eye, yours as blown out as his. You grinned playfully.

“Well this means you don’t have to be jealous anymore. Your eyeliners fucking hot by the way”

Johnny laughed.

“Shut up.”

He continued to fuck you hard, his thrusts only increasing in pace and his moans only getting louder along with yours. It wasn’t long until he got you to that familiar place, head leaning back against the wall as you were worked to the edge.

“Fuck I’m gonna come.” You managed to get out between pants, holding onto your breath as you felt the sensation creep forward.

Johnny continued his relentless pace until you came hurtling down, the wave of pleasure washing over you and making your legs shake. The feeling of you tightening around Johnny made his breath hitch as you brought him closer to the edge.

“Can I come inside you baby?”

You nodded, head still reeling from your orgasm. Johnny gripped your hips tightly, pushing even further into you as he came with a loud groan into your neck, the hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

The two of you remained in the same place, panting and fucked out, sweat dripping from your foreheads. Johnny’s head was still buried in the crook of your neck.

“You alright there?” You laughed, poking his cheek.

He pulled away grinning.

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”

You both laughed until Johnny kissed you again, your heads all foggy.

“You know we can do this again once we’re out of this elevator right?” You pulled away once his kisses got more needy, practically ready for round two already when his dick was growing soft inside you.

He laughed as he pulled out of you, the sensation making you wince slightly.

“Sorry.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He bent down to help pull your panties back up and smooth your skirt out after buckling up his own pants. He fixed himself up a little more before pressing the emergency stop button once again as well as another button.

“Shit.” He muttered.

“What?!”

Johnny bared his teeth.

“I accidentally pressed the reception floor.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Christ I hope those poor workers don’t see us again.”

Just as you attempted to fix up your hair the doors opened to reveal none other than Bam Margera himself, arm sleazily hung over the same girl you threw him at on the dance floor. You and Johnny must’ve looked like a deer in headlights right then but Bam was far too drunk and oblivious to notice just yet.

“Oh hey guys!” He grinned, entering with his new chick, her hand dragging over his chest.

“Weird the elevator wasn’t working for a minute. What were you guys doing already in here, I thought you left like thirty minutes ago?” Bam asked but his face dropped once it dawned on him.

He observed the pair of you, your makeup all messed up with tangled hair, skirt all wrinkled and Johnny with his messy hair and lipstick stains coating his neck and collar.

“Oh.”

“Let’s not.” You interjected before Bam could say anything that would make your skin crawl.

The rest of the elevator ride was painfully awkward and silent, even Bam’s girl noticing the horrible tension. Once you finally reached your floor after what felt like forever Bam spoke up.

“So uhh... can we take our room or do you want to-”

“Take our room.” You sputtered, leaving the damn elevator as soon as possible and darting towards Knoxville’s room, desperate to escape.

End.

@gnarkillknoxville @jackussy420 @spoookyberry @steve-osahottie @izzaaaaaa @lovexjoe @jackassvivalabam03 @kristinee

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supermightyglue · 1 year

Text

“don’t puke yet, lemme get a better angle!”

“kiss it better? fuck off, knoxville.”

the dickhouse chick

#i agonized over this for days nd it still isnt as good as i want it to look oh well #shit i write #my ocs #jackass #big brother #jackass fics #jackass fic #jackass x reader #jackass moodboard #johnny knoxville #bam margera #chris pontius #dave england #jackass girl #jackass oc

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stratossphere · 1 year

Text

couple’s boxing | j.k

johnny wants to box for a stunt, and massively underestimates your strength in the process.

warnings: mentions of violence, injuries, a tiny bit of suggestive language, knoxville being a concussed dork

word count: 3.4k

tags: @asskickedbygirl @kristinee @lizey-thornberry @faceache111 (lmk if you want to be added!)

— —

"Oh, fuck! He's out cold!" Bam was inconsolable with laughter as both you and Jeff dropped down at the same time to assess a still and drooling Johnny. "Y/n, that was fucking amazing."

"I think you killed him." Ryan nudged Johnny's arm with his foot, around the same time you noticed blood wetting the side of his head. Fuck, you were good.

"No, don't stop! I still got a few more punches!" Suddenly Johnny was animated and talking, his head jolting up from the floor with one gloved hand coming with it as he looked around wildly. You quickly moved to cup the side of his head so that he wouldn't bash it right back down on the floor, using your other hand to bat Ryan's foot away.

"Knox, shut up. Someone call the doctor and get them to send the ambulance over." You were still filming, but because it was so late and Johnny could barely keep his eyes open, let alone focused, that quickly ceased in favor of efforts to get him off the floor.

"You fucking psycho. You killed your own boyfriend!" Steve-O teased as he stepped down with me to take Johnny's hand so that you could flip him off of his stomach. You rolled your eyes, still cupping said boyfriend's head as he latched a grip onto your shirt.

"It's gonna take a lot more to kill me. Come on. Punch me one more time and see." Johnny coerced, eyes rolling back dangerously along with the shit-eating grin on his face.

"PJ. No more." You got him sitting up as you pleaded with him to stop babbling and moving around so much, and as soon as Steve-O came back into his peripheral, he had a similar grip on his shirt.

"And that, ladies and gents, is how you get beat up by your girlfriend!"

"Knoxville, shut up before your ears start bleeding." Preston snickered, standing a couple feet away from you with his arms crossed. Yeah. Super helpful, everyone. It was in times like these where you wished that the room was cleared so that Johnny would stop being such an attention whore and just let you keep him from dying without fighting you on it.

It took what felt like forever, but eventually the ambulance showed up. It was such a common practice that the siren wasn't even on, which was probably a good thing considering April and Phil Margera were sleeping upstairs as you all roughhoused in their living room. Once Jeff had come back in with paramedics trailing close behind, you got Johnny loaded up, and all promised to meet at the hospital a little later once you and Johnny got through the waiting room. You had declined everyone's offer to wait with you because you knew exactly how well that was going to go, and you were hoping that Johnny would calm down a little bit if there was no one else there to give him attention besides your tough love.

To your dismay, the waiting room was chock-full when you finally arrived. For it being as late as it was, considering it was nearing two in the morning, there was no other explanation other than the waiting room was stuffed with a bunch of drunken mistakes. Awesome.

Johnny was in a wheelchair sitting next to your chair, his chin resting in his hand as he blinked slowly and toyed with the peeling leather of his armrest. You kept having to nudge him to keep him from passing out, and every time he sent an annoyed look in your direction.

"I'm fucking fine. I didn't even get hit that hard." He was preaching to the pews, because you already knew that what he was saying wasn't true considering you had been the one to knock him out. And you knew that you’d hit him hard. To be fair, he'd been shouting 'stop hitting like a girl!' in your face for five minutes beforehand, so it wasn't exactly a hit on innocence.

"Oh, yeah? What's today?" You asked skeptically. The easiest answer would’ve been the date, but you would’ve settled for at least the day of the week or even the month. He paused for a second, then did a half-hearted fist pump in the air.

"My birthday." He cheered weakly, chuckling to himself as he did so. You frowned, because he was off by about eight months. Yeah. Totally fine. "Goddamn, I am tired."

"Well, you would probably feel a little better if you stopped complaining so much." You muttered, shaking your head to yourself as he tapped his foot impatiently on the linoleum floor where his legs were too long for the wheelchair he was in. Sometimes you wished you weren't dating him so that you could just call him an idiot for hurting himself and move on with your day like everyone else.

"I wanna go home tonight." He complained right over your suggestion, running a hand over his face as he winced at the obvious pain in his head. He was just digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole with this dramatic display of whining.

"I have told you that if you ever boxed with me, I'd knock your ass down." You were half lecturing and half boasting, because despite the fact that you didn't like him getting hurt, you were pretty proud of what a good job you had done at causing exactly that. "Bear with me, okay? They'll call us soon."

Close to your predictions, they called you both in a few minutes later, calling out 'Philip Clapp' before you were wheeling a very disgruntled Mr. Clapp into the exam room. You had called Jeff a couple minutes before to give them the okay to haul ass over and shoot whatever the hell was going to happen with Johnny, and it felt like they were in the room before the doctor could even fully step in before them.

"There's our star!" Pontius teased, a wide grin on his face despite the fact that Johnny was glowering in his general direction. He generally got pretty quiet once the headaches set in, and it was always a challenge to keep him engaged when he suffered a knock to the head, but you always knew that his concussions were bad when he got annoyed. "Hey, boyfriend beater."

"Will you shut up? I only agreed to let you guys in here if you sat quietly and just let him generate his own material." You muttered out of Johnny's earshot, motioning to where he was slowly spinning his wheelchair around with his extended foot as the doctor set up on the counter.

"Preston, Dunn, and Bam refused to come along because you get all anal when Knoxville gets hurt." Steve-O said as he watched the doctor shine a light in Johnny's eyes from over your shoulder. You turned around, a look rivaling Johnny's own glare, before smacking Steve-O hard in the arm for use of the word ‘anal’ to describe you. He let out an offended cry. "That's what I mean!"

"Man beater of every kind." Wee-man snickered at you, almost nearing the fire zone when Steve-O stumbled back from your assault.

"Y/n!" Your boyfriend's voice interrupted your attempts to beat Steve-O up, and you quickly turned to see him with his arm outstretched towards you. "I'm gonna puke."

"Sir, if you're going to throw up—"

"No, just...Y/n, just come here." He cut off the doctor, waving him off while simultaneously waving you on. You turned back to Jeff momentarily, an unimpressed look plastered on your face.

"You better be filming this shit." If Johnny threw up on you at two in the morning while everyone was filming and while you were running on about two and a half hours of sleep, you were going to be pissed. He wasn't usually a puker, and it was actually rare that you ever even saw him gag, but concussions caused puking, and as much as he wanted to think so, he wasn't immune.

"Ughhh, it hurts so bad." He groaned, latching back onto your shirt as soon as you were within reach and pulling you closer towards him. He was lucky you felt bad for hurting him. "It feels like I'm spinning my head in circles."

"You're not." As you were speaking, he started to bobble his head around like he was trying to combat the imaginary spinning, essentially contradicting your point. "Well, now you are." You reached out and touched the side of his head, stilling his movements and guiding his ear to fall against your side.

"Ugh. No one wants to see this on film." Steve-O complained, clearly not a fan of watching his best friend get babied. Johnny cast a furtively morose look in his direction, eyes trying to focus on the group before he gave up and just shut them.

"Well keep filming anyway, jackass." He grumbled, stretching his arm back to flip everyone the finger. Classy, as always.

The doctor had been talking to Tremaine this entire time, clearly trying to get a feel for what had happened, and as soon as you heard the words 'girlfriend' and 'punch' in the same sentence, you watched the doctor's eyes shoot in your direction with a hint of suspicion. Great. They were probably gonna think you really were a boyfriend beater.

"Okay. It's a Grade 3 concussion, and he's going to need to be drugged up, so you're going to be here for a while." The doctor looked between you all, skepticism clear as day on his face. "Johnny, can you tell me what got you in here?"

"I was beat mercilessly by my girlfriend." Johnny said immediately. You sighed, because that was probably not going to help your case, regardless of the fact that he was clutching onto your side like his last breath depended on it. The doctor looked at you questioningly, and you ran a hand over your face.

"We do stunts for Jackass on MTV. We did a boxing match and he...lost." You explained, hoping that the camera Lance was sporting in the corner of the room would be enough to back your story.

"Mr. Clapp? Is that true?" Was he fucking kidding? Sure, ask Scrambled Brains and see if he gives a straight answer. It took a second before Johnny even noticed that he was the one being questioned, and his eyes opened back up.

"Huh?" Once the question was repeated to him, his eyes closed again. "I don't fucking know, man."

That was clearly not the right answer, because suddenly everyone but Jeff and Lance (after a bit of arguing from Jeff to let him stay so that they could keep filming) was forced out of the room so that you could be questioned. So nurses hooked Johnny up to an IV and got him situated in the bed as you tried to convince this stupid ass doctor that you hadn't gone full 1980's on him.

"We can literally bring in the footage to show you that he completely consented to the fight and was throwing punches back." You argued, leaving out the fact that all of his punches were body shots. You didn't need a full body search on top of everything else.

"I don't want to see any footage. We are just going through all of the precautions to make sure that Mr. Clapp is safe." The doctor explained it like he was talking to a small child. Johnny's safety wasn't the one he was going to be worried about in a second if he kept patronizing you.

"Then fucking assess him instead of assessing me!" You immediately regretted raising your voice, because now it was on footage that you yelled at a doctor, but whatever. It got him to walk away from you and instead go towards Johnny, so you could call it a success.

Eventually, after Johnny was assessed, medicated, and situated, along with the promise that you really hadn't beat him up without probable cause, everyone was allowed to filter back in, and suddenly Johnny was fully animated again.

"Tenth concussion! We should be throwing a party!" He had let go of your shirt by this point, and clapped his hands together as he spoke. "Y/n, honey, you get honorary mentions for helping us reach our goal."

"Not a competition, but thank you." You said dryly from where you were sitting in one of the chairs right next to his bed. You were tired, and were hoping that everyone would get tired and leave, but of course they had to have a whole debacle first. "Hey, don't forget Bam. He got you pretty good a couple times, too."

"Bam's not here. And no one cares about him." Wee-man scoffed, handing over the bag of tiny little confetti poppers that Johnny insisted on keeping on hand for his tenth concussion. "Celebration time!"

"Hell yeah! Congratulations, man. We all knew you could do it." Steve-O said as he took a handful of the poppers and passed them around the room. "One extra popper for Y/n/n because we all knew she was going to get anal."

"And not in the way she likes." Johnny said it just as he popped the tiny popper right into your ear, giggling like an idiot the entire time. So you took the pile of confetti that had landed in your hair and lap and shoved it right into his open mouth.

"More in the way that you like, and it's never happening again." You scoffed, snickering as he coughed and Steve-O let out a grossed-out groan. Two for one. "It is so late, guys. Why are you all still here?"

"Because this shit is hilarious." Pontius motioned in Johnny's general direction where the man was spitting out confetti onto his blanket. "And, of course, I wanted to make sure that my love survived."

"I'm shedding tears!" Johnny said dramatically, hand over his heart as he peeled the last strip of confetti away from his mouth. "At least someone loves me."

"At least." You rolled your eyes at him, pushing his arm away when he made a grab for you because you knew that the camera was trained directly at you. You didn't want the camera to catch him yanking your hair or pulling you in for what was undoubtedly going to be a sloppy kiss, whichever he decided on. "Hands to yourself, moron."

Soon the doctor came back in to check on Johnny, and when he saw that everyone was still piled inside of the room, he sighed.

"I know it's probably nice to have all of this support, but if you overexert yourself too much, you're not going to feel great, Mr. Clapp." It was the doctor's way of subtly excusing everyone. Except for lucky old you, who was going to have to sit with his highness for the rest of the night.

"Alright, alright. Get out, you fuckin' voyeurs." Johnny waved everyone off, his grin unwavering in light of the situation. "Mrs. Knoxville will be taking great care of me while you're gone."

"Ms. Y/l/n. And no I won't." You muttered, shaking your head mostly to yourself and sinking even further down in your chair. Johnny pouted.

“You could be Mrs. Knoxville—“

"Alright. Have fun with...that." Jeff motioned to Johnny with a hint of sympathy on his face before everyone was calling their goodbyes and filtering out after the doctor. Which left you alone with the man himself.

"How you feelin', baby?" You asked as soon as the room was empty and silent, finally reaching out and letting him take your hand. You knew that once his concussion had cleared and he was back in the right mindset he would be pissed if he found out he'd been wallowing all over you on camera, so you had staved it off until there was no one left with the two of you.

"Like I got punched in the head by an MMA fighter." He muttered, playing with one of the rings on your hand as he rested his on top of yours. Point to your ego taken.

"Poor thing." You cooed, scooting your chair a little closer so that it was pressed right up against the bed and he was in your direct reach. "You think you're going to make it through the night?"

"No." He said immediately after you had finished asking the question, his hand gripping yours tightly. "I think I'm gonna need some of that tender lovin' care, sweetheart."

"Next time, I'm gonna hit hard enough to make it permanent." You muttered, mostly to yourself as he yanked gently on your arm in an attempt to coerce you into the cramped hospital bed beside him. He winced, still pulling you regardless of your threat.

"I think I have the meanest girlfriend in the history of the planet. I'm deathly injured, which is her fault, by the way, and she's been yelling at me all night." He feigned offense, like he couldn't handle your attitude, even as you crawled into his bed next to him and his head fell to your shoulder once you had settled in.

"I've seen you hurt more times than I can remember. The shock value has worn off." You brushed him off, but what you didn't tell him was that there was a pit of anxiety burning its way through your stomach as you spoke because you were totally lying. You were just as concerned for his well-being as you had been every single other time, and you wanted to cradle him and keep him close to you just as bad as you had every other time you’d been smushed up in a hospital bed together.

"Jesus, Y/n. You're fucking strong." Johnny muttered as he rubbed his head, clearly still feeling the after effects of your KO-inducing blow to the corner of his jaw. The problem was that yes, he had been knocked out, but the real kicker was that he'd gone down onto the wood floor directly on the back of his head, which was where most of the trouble had come from.

"Thank you, honey." You teased, replacing his hand with yours and gingerly running your fingers through his hair. His sunglasses had been abandoned at some point, so you could clearly see the disgruntled look in his eyes. "You know, you're my first ever knock-out."

"Thanks. I'm well aware." He said absentmindedly, and if his lips hadn't curled into that signature grin, you would've missed the fact that he'd just insinuated that you were calling him hot. "April’s gonna be pissed I got blood on her floor.”

“She won’t care, baby. She said as long as we were having fun we could do whatever we wanted.” You reassured him. You’d apologized profusely for your friends when Chris had put his head through the guest room wall, but April had just smiled and laughed it off. You guessed that having Bam as a son could really lower someone’s standards.

“I'm sure you're having fun now." Johnny hummed in amusement, one hand holding yours from where his arm was wrapped around your waist and the other on your leg. You chuckled.

"Well, think of this as quality time on vacation. No friends, no work, no noise. Just a tiny concussion." You said optimistically, reasoning that you would be awake right now anyway if you had still been at Bam’s house. "All the sleep you could ask for with no one blaring music into your room at 5 am."

"Ooh, you're gonna make me get all hot and bothered." Johnny sighed contently, shifting a little so he was as close to you as he could possibly manage. You decided to just accept your position and the lack of air you were receiving in the process in favor of holding his head gingerly against you and playing with soft strands of his hair that weren’t held by gel.

Even though Johnny was out within five minutes of your last spoken words, you stayed up, making sure to check on him periodically and adjusting every time he adjusted so that his head was comfortably supported the entire night.

He may have been a jackass, but he was your jackass, and you would never give up the opportunity to have a sleeping Knoxville half-on-top of you, injured or not.

Although the ridiculously loud snoring certainly didn’t help his case.

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