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valsavampire · 4 days ago

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contact high | s.w

high!sam winchester x f!reader

MDNI

word count: 4k

summary: catching sam getting high in the bunker basement wasn’t on your to-do list—but neither was him being horny, needy, and way too handsy for your self-control. one hit turns into two, and before you know it, sam’s got you in his lap, calling you ‘baby’ and trying real hard not to break you in half.

warnings: SMUTTT, size kink, sam winchester is huge like HUGE, dubcon (both are high), weed use, soft dom!sam, whiny sam, dirty talk, use of pet names, lots of praise, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms f!recieving, fingering, mention of masturbation, aftercare, love confession, allusions to future smut, let me know if i missed any

a/n: i wrote this while ovulating that’s all u need to know

The bunker was too quiet.

You padded barefoot through the living room, still tugging your oversized hoodie down over your thighs. Dean was out—some vague excuse about needing a beer and a break. You hadn’t asked questions. You were honestly enjoying the silence, up until the second you caught a whiff of something unexpected.

Not smoke, exactly. Not like burning toast or gunpowder. It was sweet. Earthy. Warm.

Weed.

You frowned. The scent was subtle but unmistakable—and the bunker’s ventilation system wasn’t exactly known for being discreet. You followed the trail on instinct, curiosity piqued, past the kitchen, down the hallway toward the basement level where Sam had disappeared earlier that evening.

The air grew denser as you reached the stairwell. Definitely not your imagination.

You took the steps slowly, the chilled tile giving way to the low hum of an old radio playing somewhere below. The basement wasn’t exactly cozy—it was mostly used for storage and training—but the flickering glow you saw from the crack under the lounge door was warm, almost inviting.

You opened it without knocking.

And there he was.

Sam Winchester, shirtless and slouched like melted wax on the ratty leather couch, long legs sprawled open, one arm slung behind his head—and a very clearly still-lit joint pinched between two long fingers.

You blinked. “Are you serious?”

Sam turned his head toward you with the slow grace of someone who had just fully detached from the worries of the world. His eyes were half-lidded and glassy, his jaw slack with the laziest smirk you’d ever seen on him.

“Hey,” he drawled, voice sticky-smooth and warm like honey. “You’re back.”

You crossed your arms, arching a brow. “You’re smoking? In the bunker?”

He shrugged one huge shoulder. “Ventilation’s fine down here. No one’s gonna know.”

“I knew.”

“And yet,” he said, raising the joint with a little flourish, “you came down anyway.”

Your mouth opened—and then closed again. Because now that you were fully inside the room, the scent hit you hard. Sweet, musky, warm. So did the sight of him—bare chest freckled and flushed, hair tousled, sweatpants low on his hips. Your eyes betrayed you with a not-so-subtle flick downward.

Sam’s grin widened.

“See something you like?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to steady the flutter in your chest. “You’re so annoying when you’re high.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“You’re definitely flustered.”

He patted the cushion beside him. “Come sit. It’s just weed. Won’t bite.”

You hesitated—not because you didn’t want to, but because this felt… loaded. Sam wasn’t just high. He was soft. Loose. Less guarded. And that made this whole vibe dangerous in a way you hadn’t prepared for tonight.

Still, you crossed the room and sat beside him.

His thigh pressed against yours immediately. Warm. Solid. Freakishly big. Sam’s body always managed to make you feel small—and right now, with the hazy air swirling around you, it made your skin hum.

He handed you the joint. You stared at it a second, then took a slow drag.

“See?” he murmured. “Not so bad.”

You exhaled, letting the warmth roll down your spine. “You gonna tell me what brought this on?”

He shrugged. “Just… needed to shut my brain off for a while.”

“You could’ve watched a movie like a normal person.”

He looked over at you, eyes softer than you expected. “Didn’t want to feel alone.”

Your throat caught a little at that, and not from the smoke.

You passed the joint back. “You’re not alone.”

Sam’s lips curled at the corners. “No. Not right now.”

He leaned back again, letting his head loll toward you, curls brushing your shoulder. His body was so close now, and the contact felt intentional. His arm came up to rest along the back of the couch, and his hand brushed lightly against the nape of your neck.

Every inch of you was suddenly aware of how very little you were wearing.

You shifted, crossing one leg over the other—and Sam’s gaze dropped immediately.

“Y’know,” he said slowly, voice dropping a note lower, “I always thought you liked teasing me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You come into the kitchen in those little sleep shorts. Always grabbing things from the top shelf just so I have to reach over you. And now…” His eyes raked over your bare legs, slow and greedy. “This hoodie. It’s practically a dress on you.”

You swallowed. Hard. “I didn’t put this on for you, Sam.”

“But you’re not exactly rushing to leave, are you?”

He reached over and took the joint back from your fingers, his fingertips grazing yours—sending a jolt straight to your stomach.

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Then, because you hated how breathless you already felt, you scoffed: “You’re high. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Sam gave a lazy grin. “Oh, I definitely do. I’ve just never had the guts to say it out loud.”

That shut you up.

He turned toward you fully now, elbow on the couch back, his huge hand cradling the side of your neck lightly. Not possessive—just there, spreading heat like fire against your pulse.

“I think about you more than I should,” he murmured. “About touching you. About how small you’d feel under me. How much you could take.”

Your thighs pressed together automatically.

“Sam…”

His eyes searched yours, half-lidded but earnest. “You want this too. Don’t lie to me.”

You didn’t lie.

Not even a little.

Your breath hitched. “So what now?”

Sam leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, lips ghosting over your jaw.

“Now,” he said, “I make you feel really, really good.”

You didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Not with the way his breath skimmed your cheek, his mouth just shy of kissing you.

You expected him to lean in and take what he wanted. Sam was big and strong and capable of it. But instead, he hovered—barely touching, letting the moment stretch like a rubber band pulled tight.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he murmured, voice so deep and slow it felt like it rattled inside your chest. “But if you want me to stop…”

You turned toward him before he could finish, your nose brushing his. “I don’t want you to stop.”

And that was all he needed.

Sam kissed you.

It wasn’t rough, or hurried—it was full. Warm. Intentional. His lips were soft but sure, moving against yours with a sweetness that betrayed just how long he’d been thinking about this.

You moaned before you even realized it, and the sound made Sam growl softly in return, his hand sliding from the back of your neck to cup your jaw.

God, his hands. They were massive. One palm covered half your cheek and then some, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he couldn’t get enough of touching you.

“I knew you’d taste good,” he muttered into your lips, just before sucking your bottom one gently between his.

You whimpered, hands fisting into his sweatpants where they sat low on his hips. His hips. Jesus, the man was carved out of marble. Heat radiated off of him, and he shifted forward slightly, guiding you so you were turned toward him more fully—knee to knee now.

“Let me touch you?” he asked, breathless already, voice pitched low and needy.

You nodded, but he just raised an eyebrow.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Touch me.”

He kissed you again, this time deeper, needier—his tongue sliding against yours with just enough pressure to make you squirm. You could feel his other hand grazing down your side now, over the fabric of your hoodie, teasing the hem where it barely covered your thighs.

“Fuck,” he breathed as his palm found your bare skin. “You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?”

You shook your head, eyes fluttering as his fingertips slid along your thigh.

“You trying to kill me?” he groaned.

“You’re the one who lit the joint, Winchester.”

He chuckled—a rough, breathy sound that quickly turned into a low moan as his hand found the inside of your thigh and stayed there.

Your breath caught.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly.

“I’m not used to you being this…” You couldn’t finish. His fingers had begun tracing lazy circles along the sensitive skin, moving higher, higher, until they brushed just barely against the heat between your legs.

“Gentle?” he offered.

“Hot.”

That pulled a laugh out of him—and then a quiet, wrecked little whine as he cupped your pussy with his whole hand, palm warm and fingers splaying wide. He was so big. The size of his hand alone made you feel embarrassingly small.

“You’re so wet already,” he groaned, rubbing slow, steady circles over your clit with two fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

“Sam—”

“Tell me,” he said, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted this.”

You tried to steady your breathing, hips already rocking gently against his touch.

“Since you walked in shirtless that one night,” you confessed, voice barely a whisper.

He growled.

“Jesus, you remember that night?”

“I remember everything.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging his fingers down to slip between your folds. “I’ve been jerking off thinking about you in that damn hoodie for months.”

You let out a shaky gasp as one long finger circled your entrance—teasing, not entering. He was so close.

“Sam,” you whispered, “please.”

“Please what?” His lips brushed your ear now, his breath hot and unsteady. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I need your fingers.”

And just like that, he gave them to you.

One thick finger slid into you slow and steady, pressing deep, and your eyes fluttered shut at the stretch.

“God,” you gasped. “You’re…”

“Big?” he offered with a grin, kissing your jaw as he pumped gently.

You moaned your agreement.

He added a second finger after a few strokes, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you open for him. The way he watched you—as if every twitch of your muscles was a personal reward—made your skin burn hotter.

“So tight,” he murmured. “So fucking tight around just my fingers. How the hell are you gonna take my cock?”

Your head fell back against the couch, hips moving with his rhythm.

“You’ll make it fit,” you breathed.

Sam let out a long, broken groan and pressed his forehead to yours.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” he whispered.

His fingers curled just right—there, again, and again—and your moans spilled out faster, breath hitching each time he pressed against that perfect spot.

“You’re close already, huh?” he teased, voice thick with want. “I can feel you clenching. So needy for me.”

“Sam, please…”

“Look at me when you come,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your nose. “Wanna see it.”

You did—eyes locking with his, wide and dark and hungry—as your body tensed, pleasure spiraling out in white-hot waves. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer as you came around his fingers, shaking against him, thighs trembling.

He held you through it, kissing you softly, sweetly, while his fingers kept moving just enough to let you ride it out.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “So good for me. So fucking pretty when you fall apart.”

You collapsed against his chest, still trembling.

And Sam? Sam looked like a man on the edge.

His cock strained visibly against his sweatpants, a dark spot blooming at the tip. His lips were parted, breath ragged, eyes full of need.

“You okay?” he asked, hand still resting between your legs.

You gave him a dazed nod, nuzzling into his chest. “Better than okay.”

He kissed your temple, voice rough with restraint. “Because I need you to know… I’m not done with you yet.

Sam’s chest rose and fell beneath you, sweat already starting to bead at his temple. He was so warm—inside and out—like every part of him had been stoked by fire.

And yet, he hadn’t even gotten what he wanted yet.

You could feel it. His cock, heavy and hard beneath his sweats, pressed against your thigh. He hadn’t so much as adjusted himself, and it looked like it was hurting him.

Still, his hands stayed gentle.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured again, brushing his knuckles over your jaw. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” you breathed. “You were perfect.”

Sam let out a breath, relieved and wrecked at once. He pulled back slightly to look at you, pupils still blown wide, curls damp and clinging to his forehead. His voice was quieter now—sweet, ragged. Whiny.

“Can I… fuck, I need to be inside you.”

You pressed your forehead to his, lips brushing his as you whispered, “Then do it.”

He let out a sharp breath, but didn’t move—just searched your face with eyes full of something too deep to name. And then, barely audible:

“You’re sure?”

You smiled. “You made me come with just your fingers. I think I’m a little past sure.”

His eyes fluttered shut like he was praying.

You leaned in, voice teasing. “Or are you nervous, Winchester?”

He chuckled, breathless. “I’m nervous I’ll break you.”

You kissed his cheek. “Maybe I want to see you try.”

That pulled a low groan from deep in his throat.

He finally pushed his sweatpants down just enough to free himself—and you actually gasped.

You’d felt it through his pants, but seeing him now?

He was… huge.

Thick, flushed red at the tip, already leaking. He was hard in a way that looked like it hurt, twitching slightly against his stomach. You stared, lips parted—and Sam just watched you watch him, cheeks flushed, breathing uneven.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“I… yeah.” Your voice cracked. “You’re just—Sam. That’s not fair.”

He laughed, the sound shaking with restraint.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, gripping your thighs and guiding you gently to straddle him.

You settled over his lap, knees spread, your soaked core hovering over his cock—but he didn’t push up into you. Not yet. His hands slid up your bare thighs, over your waist, under the hoodie, until they were splayed wide on your back, keeping you close.

His voice turned low, reverent. “You’re so fucking small like this.”

You blushed, heartbeat pounding in your throat.

He lifted one hand and compared it to yours—his palm dwarfed yours. He held your wrist up next to his, watched you watch the size difference, and moaned like that alone was enough to unravel him.

“You really want all of this?” he murmured, brushing the head of his cock through your folds.

“Yes,” you whispered, gripping his shoulders. “I want to feel every inch.”

Sam choked on a moan and kissed you again, one hand gripping your hip as he guided you down slowly—inch by inch, letting you sink onto him with maddening control.

And god.

The stretch.

It burned—but in the best, most intoxicating way.

“Fuck,” Sam gasped, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so tight. Jesus, baby—”

Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as you tried to breathe through it. He was so deep, filling you in a way no one ever had before, your walls fluttering around him helplessly.

“Is this too much?” he asked, voice high and wrecked. “You can tell me to stop—”

“Don’t you dare stop,” you breathed.

That did it.

Sam lifted his head and kissed you hard this time, his hands guiding your hips up, then pulling them back down again in a slow, deliberate grind that made your whole body spark.

You cried out, clinging to him as the pressure hit that spot deep inside you.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless. “Right there?”

You nodded furiously, and he did it again—slow, deep, overwhelming.

Each thrust made your body jolt slightly from the force of it, even as he held back.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Sam moaned, voice breaking with every roll of his hips. “Can’t believe I get to do this with you—can’t believe you’re letting me—”

“Sam, please—”

He pulled back to look at you—eyes wild, lips swollen, chest heaving.

“Gonna come already,” he admitted, like it was the worst thing in the world. “You feel so fucking good, I—shit—I’m trying to be good, I swear—”

You cupped his face, kissed him hard. “You are good.”

He whimpered—whimpered—into your mouth, like that was the final straw.

And then he was moving faster, harder, dragging you down onto him over and over with a desperation that bordered on holy.

The sound of skin slapping, your slickness, his gasping moans—everything blurred together into heat and friction and need.

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed through his teeth, voice cracking.

“You gonna come for me again?” he begged. “Wanna feel you fall apart—wanna feel you squeeze my cock while I’m inside you—”

“Sam—”

“I’ll come with you, I will—just please—”

The knot in your stomach snapped again, blinding and overwhelming. You cried out, thighs shaking, head thrown back as your second orgasm ripped through you—tight, fast, explosive.

Sam shouted, grabbed your hips and held you down on him as he came hard inside you, warmth flooding deep. His whole body trembled under yours, jaw slack, breath ragged.

“Holy fuck,” he panted. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You collapsed into his chest, both of you sweaty, trembling, gasping for air.

And for a long, blissed-out minute, neither of you spoke.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, wrapped around him, still joined, his cock softening slowly inside you.

The world felt soft around the edges—like the weed, the sex, the intensity had all blurred together into something warm and weightless.

Sam cradled you like you were made of glass. One massive hand splayed against your back, the other stroking your hair with such careful tenderness it made your throat ache.

“You okay?” he asked eventually, voice rasping.

You nodded against his chest, the thud of his heartbeat still pounding beneath your cheek.

“That was…” You didn’t have the word. You felt wrecked. But in the best way. Every muscle in your body felt like it had turned to syrup.

“I know,” Sam whispered. “Same here.”

He finally shifted you—slowly, carefully—and guided you off his lap, gently as if worried you might break. His hands stayed steady on your waist, holding you like you were something precious. You winced slightly at the loss of him, at the tender ache between your thighs.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, instantly tense.

“No,” you said quickly. “I just… feel you. In the best way.”

His shoulders relaxed—just barely—but his eyes still scanned your body, checking, double-checking.

“You sure?” he murmured, brushing a hand down your thigh. “I get carried away sometimes.”

You huffed a breath. “Sam, you spent the entire time making sure I was okay. You asked before every single thing.”

He looked down, a little shy. “Still. I always worry.”

You leaned into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I like how you make me feel when you’re on top of me.”

He groaned, face buried in your hair. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smiled against his chest, fingertips brushing the bare skin beneath his hoodie.

“I’m serious,” you said. “I love how big you are. I want to feel wrecked after. That’s the point.”

Sam made a soft, strangled noise.

“I swear, you say stuff like that and I start getting hard again.”

You giggled. “Already?”

He looked down at you with the laziest, softest grin.

“You’re wrapped up in my arms, all flushed and fucked out, wearing my hoodie and nothing else—of course I’m hard again.”

Your breath caught. His voice had gone lower again. That sweet, soft-dom tension creeping back in.

“You gonna be a problem all night now?” you teased, nuzzling under his jaw.

He tilted your chin up gently. “Only if you want me to be.”

You could feel him again—semi-hard beneath his sweats, pressing against your hip.

“I do want you,” you murmured. “All the time, apparently.”

Sam groaned again and kissed you—slow and deep, his tongue curling against yours with the lazy intensity of someone who wasn’t done worshiping you.

Then he scooped you up, bridal-style, without warning.

You gasped. “Sam!”

“You shouldn’t be walking yet,” he said seriously. “Not with how hard you were shaking.”

Your face went hot. “You’re not helping my recovery with that mouth.”

“I’m trying to be good,” he muttered as he carried you over to the blanket-strewn couch and laid you down gently. “But you keep making that impossible.”

He stretched out beside you, pulling your back to his chest, spooning you while pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

You melted into him instantly.

His big arm came around your waist, fingers lacing with yours.

“I can’t stop touching you,” he admitted, nuzzling behind your ear. “Is that weird?”

“No,” you whispered. “I feel the same way.”

He sighed, so content it made your chest ache.

The basement was quiet now—only the sound of your breathing, and the soft hum of some classic rock vinyl you hadn’t noticed playing earlier. It smelled like weed, sweat, and sex. And somehow, all of it just… fit.

Sam nosed into your shoulder, voice low.

“I’ve thought about this for so long.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“I used to wake up in the middle of the night so hard just from dreaming about you. Thought I was gonna go crazy.”

You smiled into the blanket. “And now?”

“Now I am crazy. Just for a different reason.”

You turned to look at him.

He reached out and brushed your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Now I’ve had you, and I’m already greedy for more.”

Your stomach flipped.

“You can have me,” you whispered. “Whenever you want.”

He let out a choked sound and buried his face in your neck again. “Sweetheart, don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I mean it,” you breathed, rolling slightly so you could kiss him.

The kiss was slower this time, deeper—less urgent, but no less intense. It was full of everything you hadn’t said yet, everything he hadn’t said either.

When he pulled back, his voice was soft.

“You know this wasn’t just sex for me, right?”

“I know,” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist. “Me either.”

His hand slipped down to your stomach, then lower, fingers grazing the inside of your thigh again like he was reminding himself you were real.

You looked up at him, still flushed and pink-mouthed, hair messy from where his fingers had tangled in it earlier.

And Sam looked at you like he’d won something.

“You’re not sleeping in your room tonight,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re staying with me.”

“You don’t want your space?”

“Are you kidding?” he said, eyebrows raised. “I just got you in my arms. You think I’m letting you go back down the hall? I’ll handcuff you to the bed before I let that happen.”

You laughed, face warm and body sore and heart full.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m huge and ridiculous,” he corrected. “You said so yourself.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Well. You are huge.”

His smile turned wolfish. “Say that again.”

You leaned in close, lips to his ear. “You’re huge, Sam.”

He groaned like he was dying, then pulled you tight against him again.

“God, I love you like this.”

You froze.

So did he.

The words had slipped out—and for a second, neither of you moved.

Then you said, quietly, “You love me?”

Sam’s eyes searched yours. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I always have.”

You reached up, brushed your fingers through his hair.

“I think I love you too.”

His breath caught. Then he kissed you—longer, slower this time, like he was breathing you in.

And later, when he finally carried you to his room—his arms around you, your legs still shaky, his hoodie still hanging loose off your shoulders—he tucked you into his bed like you were the most precious thing he’d ever had.

You didn’t leave his room for the rest of the weekend.

And he didn’t stop touching you the whole time.

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valsavampire · 4 days ago

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sorry for thinking fully clothed sex is hot. sorry for thinking that making someone ruin multiple layers of valuable fabric separating them from me because they're so desperate for my touch is attractive. i'm so fucking sorry alright.

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valsavampire · 5 days ago

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he sounds so country here i love it

"Rocket Skates" Jackass: The Movie

2002

Found on Youtube, user MovieClips

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valsavampire · 5 days ago

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i can not stop thinking about him with this song....like chris as ur sexy but sweet werewolf boyfriend omggg

#open my hands and let them weave onto yours like shut up #its so him #i wanna fck him to this #chris pontius #jackass #Spotify

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valsavampire · 6 days ago

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super cute :)

// Back to the Basics //

steve- o x fem!reader

summary: you and steveo used to be best friends, knowing eachother since highschool and all. but growing up sucks. Especially when your best friend who you had/have a massive crush on now does coke off of models backs.

❥ ༄ you were so happy for steve-o when his career as a stunt man finally took off. you've know him since highschool and knew that it was definitely the right career for him. You remembered how you two would always go to the park after school and you would just sit and watch him skate, occasionally you would ask him to teach you.

❥༄ "well first you have to put your foot on the board dude" steveo said with a sarcastic tone. you looked at him and pouted "obviously i know that but which one?" for once, he was looking at 𝘆𝗼𝘂 like you were the dumb one. of course you kinda knew which foot you were supposed to put on the board, but steveo just intimated you so much you lost all knowledge around him and it was like your brain was constantly short circuiting. it was that or all the pot you guys smoked last period. he shook his head and laughed. "put down your most dominant foot babe." your heart did a little skip at that. it wasn't unusual for steveo to use pet names with you, but still, everytime he did it made you flustered...and confused. hesitantly, you put your foot on the board. steveo nodded then spoke up "ok now your other foot, then stand sideways, and push with the first foot you put down." you did as told and started moving. you guys were both laughing as you started to get the hang of it "awesome y/n you're better than when i started!" you blushed and smiled at him "thanks stevie" he gave you a soft smile, then ushered for you to follow him. "come on man let's get some tacos from this truck i'm starved." you got off the board and handed it to him and began following him. you loved this side of steve. everyone else thought he was jsut some rich obnoxious asshole who loved attention. and while that wasn't too far from the truth, he still had a loveable side like everyone else. he was extremely funny and could make you smile no matter what mood you were in, he was actually pretty smart at times, and was whole heartedly kind. to you at least. not so much everyone else. you wish everyone could see his soft side so they would understand why you hung out with him, but you also liked how it was reserved just for you.

❥༄ now it's 2002 and "Jackass: The Movie" was doing rounds in the ticket office. Your and Steveos relationship became basically non existent ever since he joined jackass. he started blowing you off to go hang out with other people you didn't even know, started partying a lot more, (if that was even possible) and he was always busy filming stunts, or being in the er. you tried not to bug him about it, afraid of seeming clingy and like you wanted to drag him down, which of course you didn't. you just wanted your friend back. It was a thursday evening and you had just gotten back from your big girl office job. ever since you were little you knew you wanted to leave your home town. It just always felt so small and closed off from the rest of the world to you. you wanted to live somewhere more progressive. so you got serious about school and were able to get a stable, good paying job in san diego. you went to your room, changed, then plotted down on your couch with some greasy fast food. hey you were single and lived alone, so you sometimes forgot to get groceries. you turned on the tv and began flipping through channels. the station it landed on was MTV, you were skeptical about leaving it on, knowing that everytime you saw steveo now, it tugged at your heart. You watched him change, for better and for worse. of course he's always been completely insane, but he had a soft side to him. now all you ever see is him intoxicated. you decided to leave it on. "maybe they won't even play jackass" you thought to yourself. the commercials ended and the intro for "MTV cribs" began to play and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. but once the episode started, you were stunned. it was apparently a "jackass exclusive" episode where steveo and all his other cast members were showing their "cribs." you knew you should turn it off, or find something else to watch, but you didn't want too. the tv began to show steveo, wasted as ever. you watched in disappointment as he began showing his disgusting apartment, putting hot sauce in his eye, and breaking stuff. Of course this was normal for him, but seeing him on tv do it, knowing millions of others were watching, made your heart hurt for him. "i guess his dream came true..." you thought to yourself. you've been knowing for a while yours and steveos relationship was basically over, but this was the breaking point for you. you put your food away, shut the tv off, and curled up into bed. just staring at your ceiling remembering all the good times and how they were over.

❥༄ It was a cold autumn day when your boss called you into her office. the leaves were changing, the air became crisp, and your outfits became a lotttt cuter. it was your favorite season so you were in a good mood when you walked into her office. "hey you needed to see me?" you asked while giving her a hug and handing her a coffee. "thanks! and yeah i have great news for you!" you gasped and put your hands over your mouth. "tell me!" she had a huge smile on her face while she spoke " the board is sending you to LA to get more info for our project! they think you're the perfect candidate for the job." of course you were happy hearing this, it meant you got to travel, even if it was for work, and you've never been to LA before. but you were a little shaken at the thought of being in the same city as steve o after all this time. your boss gave you all the information you needed for you trip and sent you back to your cubicle.

❥༄ a week later, and you were on your way to LA. You were driving there alone, insisiting your boss that you were fine. you tuned on the radio and cool by gwen stefani began playing. as you listened to the lyrics, you began wondering if you and steveo would ever have a relationship like that, where you could be happy and proud for eachother for finding another love, but then again, did you even want a relationship with him at all if it wasn't him as 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 partner? you couldn't see your self being in love with anyone else, you've never been in love with anyone else. 2 hours and 30 minutes later, you made it to your hotel. you grabbed your bags from the car, checked in, and settled in your room. once you were done, you noticed the time, 5:00. "most bars have happy hour right now.." you thought to yourself." you've always wanted to be in LA, so you decided to let loose and find a bar.

❥༄ you changed form your juicy tracksuit, put on a cuter outfit, and added some makeup. you began walking around looking for a bar. once you found one, you walked in and sat at the bar "a sex on the beach please" you told the bartender with a smile. he gave you your drink and you sipped it in silence, already regretting coming here. you weren't that social to begin with, and it's not like you knew anyone. you regretted not having your boss come along. all of a sudden, you heard some loud voices walk in. it sounded like a bunch of guys so you just stayed staring ahead. you would drink your cocktail, go home, change, and watch 10 things i hate about you for the millionth time. then, you heard a voice you knew all too well speak up. "2 budweisers bud" just your luck. steveo was 3 feet away from you. you noticed him look at you then look away, then snap his neck and look back. "holy shit y/n" you turned to look at him, and you wish you didn't. this was your first time seeing and hearing him in person and not through a tv and he still looked beautiful as ever "o-oh! hey stevie" you always called him that. everyone else called him steveo and steve but you just started calling him stevie one day and it stuck. he gave you a hug while smiling you returned it, hoping he wouldn't notice how your shoulders tensed or how your heart was daring to jump out your chest. even with some alcohol in your system he still made you incredibly nervous. damn it. he pulled away from the hug but stayed close. "what are you doing here. you're still in san diego right?" you fidgeted with your hands and had a nervous smile on your face as you spoke. "i'm here for work" he nodded "oh right on!" he seemed really happy to see you actually, but a part of you was telling you that it was just an act and he couldn't give 2 shits about what you were up too. i mean how happy could he be if he never bothered to call anymore? you noticed he was kind of staring at you, then he spoke up "you look r-really good" he said shyly with a soft smile, which was rare from him, and it felt so nostalgic to see him like that again. "thanks so do you" you said while playing with your hair. it was a nervous fidget you had. then all of a sudden, a tall man with dark hair and dark sunglasses came up to you both. it none other than the johnny knoxville. "where's my beer o?" he spoke. steveo jumped a little and looked away from you "here man" johnny took the can then turned to face you. "oh sorry am i interrupting something?" before steveo could even say anything though, you spoke up "oh no i was...just about to leave." you got down from the chair and slinged your purse on your shoulder. "bye boys" you said as you walked out. as much as you wanted to stay and talk to steveo while staring into his eyes, you knew he was officially done with you. he was hanging out with the big shots now. including bam margera and tony hawk. he was banging models and getting wasted daily. he was living life like a rockstar, like he always wanted, and you didn't wanna ruin that for him. it always seemed that you and steveo were from completely different worlds, but now it was painfully obvious. and you didn't belong in his, or so you thought.

❥༄ you were a few blocks from the bar when you began to hear someone behind you running and yelling "y/n wait!" you turned around and saw steveo coming towards you, with your phone in his hand. once he caught up to you he handed it to you "you left this back there" you grabbed the phone while shaking your head "gosh not again!" you put the phone in your purse then turned to him "thanks you're a life saver." he laughed at your comment "still a klutz huh?" he said with a playful smirk. you gave him one back. "old habits die hard" he let out a little chuckle, then his expression slightly changed from playful to serious. "speaking of that.. i meant what i said back there. you look good." you stared at him, not really knowing what to say. it seemed like he was holding back. he noticed that you knew this and continued " i mean seeing you was like a breath of fresh air" he said with a slight chuckle. you could tell he was tipsy. he was always sweet when he was tipsy. "your face reminds me of when everything was more...simple." you started to get angry. not necessarily at him but at the whole situation. and him saying that angered you even more. simple? did he think you were just some plain jane who had nothing better to do but hang out with him? "what is that supposed to mean?" you said while crossing your arms. he held his hands up in defense. " i didn't mean anything bad by it! it's just...you remind me of...before you know?" he said nervously. you'll admit, he was being ridiculously cute right now, but your anger was getting the better of you. "oh before you became an overnight celebrity and ditched me for brad pitt and lindsey lohan?" "y/n no please jsut list-" you cut him off. "no steve just stop....just stop." tears began to sting the corners of your eyes. you cursed yourself for always being so emotional. you spoke up, your voice shaky. "i was fine with leaving us and all the good times in the past and letting go, but now here you are pouring salt on all my wounds" steveo was staring at you, his face deathly serious and his eyes wide. "why do you think you have to leave us in the past?" you laughed at this. was he serious? "seriously? i mean come on steve we haven't talked in forever and...you're just...different now" he stared at you, looking genuinely hurt, and you knew he hated it when people called him steve, he told you so back in sophmore year when you guys were on the swings at some random park,

"𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸?"

you snapped out of your memory when steveo began shouting back at you "you think i haven't noticed y/n? i mean fuck, i just got off a bender, and i'm probably gonna go on another one." you stared at him dumbfounded. "that's not my fault steve i-" "yeah it is!" he yelled at you. you blinked and stepped back. "w-what?" he looked away from you and ran a hand through his short hair while looking down at his shoes. "ever since you left to san diego i've been lost man. you stared at him as he continued. " i've always been crazy but when i was with you... i was able to stop and be me. you didn't expect me to do any stunts, you didn't expect money or drugs from me, you just accepted me for me. the first time we hung out was the first time i felt normal, like i didn't have to put up an act so you would stay interested." it's true that you left him first. once you turned 18 you moved to san diego and started looking for jobs within your field. you didn't know how much this affected steveo thought, you didn't know he needed you as much as you needed him. while you were standing there, staring at him, in shock, he got tired of your silence. "man forget it." he waved his hand and began walking away. you snapped out of your trance and began yelling for him "no stevie! come back." he turned around, with cold eyes. you walked up to him and began to speak "i didn't know you felt that way. i didn't know you needed me as much as i needed you..." you let out a sad laugh "as much as i still need you. im sorry" you looked up at him to catch his reaction, but he was already staring at you, and as soon as your eyes locked, it was like something inside of him snapped. he grabbed your face and kissed you, hard. you were frozen for a second, you always wanted this and it was hard to believe that it was happening. but you pushed all those feelings back and melted into the kiss, putting your hands around his neck while his snaked down to your waist. you pulled away first, and smiled at him. he stepped back then spoke "you don't know how long i've wanted to do that" you laughed at his cheesey comment, then slapped his forehead. he grabbed his forehead and groaned "what the hell was that for?" you laughed at him and rubbed the area you slapped, as a sorry. "for not telling me you liked me back all those years ago!" he looked at you with a soft smile. "well let me make it up to you... how about we get lunch tomorrow? or breakfast or dinner whatever's best for you." he said while scratching his neck. you laughed at how nervous he was "how about dinner and a movie...the new star wars is out we can watch that!" he laughed at your excitement "ok geek sounds good" you just laughed it off and smiled at him. you guys were stuck staring at eachother for a minute before you spoke up "walk me to my room?" he grabbed your hand "lead the way babe" you missed that nickname. you giggled as you two began walking away, forever thankful for this evening. it felt you two were back to the basics.

authors note: hope you guys liked this! i know a lot of stuff in here is inaccurate but for the sake of the fic let's pretend everything's ok! also this was inspired by lana del reys unreleased song "back to the basics"

#steveo #jackass fanfiction #jackass #love the lana reference :)

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valsavampire · 6 days ago

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Johnny dating a country girl maybe? Or a girl that's just from the south, idk I randomly thought of this I think it'd be neat 😭

All Over Again

Hot summers and hot love in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

2.4k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, alcohol, flirting, guns, hangovers, erotic fishing

An: Thank you so much for this request!! Believe it or not, I actually was pondering this idea for a while! XD A good chunk of this is based off of where I grew up (in the middle of nowhere), so most of this definitely comes from experience! That, and I was inspired by these two amazing fics by one of my favorite writers on here, @thedreamydemon !! You all should ABSLOUTELY check her out!! The first scene specificly takes inspiration from this clip of Knox from the Big Brother video that I still just can’t get enough of!! This is maybe the filthiest thing I have ever written. Hope you enjoy! :D

Pop! One beer can fell off where it was propped up on an old piece of furniture in Johnny’s front yard, landing on the half dead grass with a clink before he started on the next one. There was no way in hell you would ever own a gun, but there was just something so sexy about how he handled that thing. Maybe it was how, when he aimed, he’d raise his shoulder just enough to make those too short t-shirts he always wore ride up about an inch above his belt, giving you a peek at the contoured lines of his stomach. Pop! Clink. Maybe it was the way he handled that pump action so skilfully and how muscular his biceps looked when he did, the sun golden against his skin as his sleeves stretched around them. Pop! Clink.

He didn’t seem to notice you until went to take a seat in the lawn chair he had set up on the dirt road few cars ever traversed, cracking open a beer and leaning his Winchester 1897 against one of the metal arms. Sun glinted off of the silver frame of his sunglasses, sweat making his skin just barely glisten as he brought the sweating can to his lips, glancing up at you, “Hey, mama.” Smiling that crooked way he always did, Johnny passed you a beer, “What brings you ‘round here?” The heat wasn't the only thing that had you sweating bullets, but you tried to play cool, “Well…” The liquid soothed your burning throat as you took a swig, “I was thinkin’ maybe we could go down by the creek- cool off a little…” The last part of your sentence lingered in the air, as if to suggest something else that Johnny immediately picked up on. He pretended not to get it just to tease you a little, “Sure thing. In fact , I gotta idea…” Standing up, he dusted his hands off in his dickies, “Why don’t we do a little fishin’?”

Johnny looked at you like you were crazy when you told him you never learned how, “You’re kidding.” Gazing up at him as he stood just a little too close to you, you raised your hands in appeal, “No- completely serious here.” You didn’t have The fainted clue what was so important about knowing how to fish or what your boyfriend found absolutely hilarious about the fact that you didn't. He cooed teasingly, trying to get under your skin a little just to bug you, “Aww, what’s the matter? Daddy never taught you how?” You couldn’t tell if it was the sun or your blush that made your face feel hot. Something in you wanted to wipe that shit eating grin off of his face, but you played civil, rolling your eyes and saying nothing, he responded to your silence, “Well,” One of his hands came to rest heavy on your shoulder, “Not to worry, doll, ‘cause I’m gonna teach you everything you need’t know.”

☆彡

The shade of the towering Blue Ash trees that flanked the rocky bed of the river provided relief from the blistering heat as Johnny held your hand in his, helping you traverse the uneven terrain like the good boyfriend he was even though you insisted you were perfectly capable of it yourself. His palm still felt cool from his beer as you squeezed it. the decline evened out as you neared the edge of the water, crouching by the bubbling water. Sun streamed through the leaves overhead, dappling patterns on your skin as you peered into the lazy current while your boyfriend sat down near you on the rocks, setting everything up.

“Now, what I want you to do,” Johnny threaded a wriggling pink worm onto the hook, “S’just hold this for me till you feel a little tug, alright?” He snickered saying the last part. You only half listened to him as he explained, nodding to make it seem like you got it, “Mmhm…” Distracted, you could barely prepare yourself before you felt a strong pair of hands grip your hips and pull you back, landing on the lap of your boyfriend. That was definitely one way to get your attention. Handing you the rod stiffly, he positioned your hands around it with his significantly larger, more skilled ones, holding them there for a second as he tilted his head to the side, bringing it right behind your ear, his voice low and soft against the skin of your neck, “That easy enough for you?” Not sure whether you were more turned on or ticked off by his petty behavior, you aired on the former, “Yeah...”

“Good, now…” His hands released from around yours, “the most important part of fishing is payin’ attention.” You could feel him smile against the shell of your ear, the calloused pads of his fingers slipping down your wrists, then your forearms, the only sound for maybe a mile being the woods arround you. “If you can’t pay attention, then…well, you won’t be able’t catch anything worthwhile.” Little tickling touches made you squirm as his hands made their way to your waist, his thumbs slinking down to your lower back as he played with the hem of your tank top, a few of his fingers skillfully grazing the skin underneath it. Ohh, he knew what he was doing. Johnny chuckled at your inability to sit still as you squirmed in his lap, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, mockingly, “Easy, easy…” Gently, like you wouldn’t even have noticed if your nerves weren’t on fire, his lips found your neck, sucking just barely. You felt Johnny grin at the noise you made when his mouth made contact with your pulse point, feeling the flutter of your heartbeat under your skin. It was twisted, but god, it was hot. He was fucking with you

Your hands began to tremor a little from how fervent he was and you practically snapped, albeit softer than you would’ve wanted, “What- what do you know about fishing anyway?” Johnny’s hands came back up to wrap around yours, steadying them as he pulled himself away from the swollen, pink skin of your neck, murmuring against you, “I know more than you do.” Well, he was right.

Just then, you felt a tug at the end of the line. Thinking quick, you scrambled for the reel, spinning it faster than you thought you physically could. Johnny’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates when he saw the flopping, wet monster of a catfish you reeled in, almost jumping at the sight with you still in his lap, “Holy shit!” He seemed more surprised than you, even though you were the one who caught the damn thing, “What’d you mean, holy shit’? I thought you were gonna take me fishing!” He chuckled in surprise, jaw still a little slack, “Well, I mean- I wasn't thinking about that kinda fish!” It took you a second to realize the stupid dirty joke he made, facepalming. Although that prospect wasn’t entirely awful in your mind, you feigned disgust, “Come on! Y’can’t believe I’m that easy, do you?” Johnny shrugged, “Well, a guy can hope…”

★彡

It was rare that Johnny wasn’t outside on a day like this. Usually, he’d be sitting in front of his single wide, drinking his beer on the ‘porch’ he fashioned out of stolen scrap lumber that you never really trusted enough to step foot on. But he wasn’t today, so you decided to be a good girlfriend and pop by. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he needed a little company.

The semi rotted wood creaked unsteadily under your feet as you opened up the screen, knocking gently on the white plywood door that was covered in mildew, as was the siding and just about anything on the outside of that house. Leaning against the door to listen, almost pressing your cheek to it, you called, “Johnny…?” A beat passed before you got a short, groggy response from inside, “S’unlocked.”

The living room was cloaked in darkness from the drawn lacy valance curtains, little slivers of light where they didn’t fully cover the windows stretching over the floor, like a peephole to the mess they hid. A low groan from the couch alerted you to your boyfriend’s presence in the dark. Shutting the door behind you, it took a few seconds for your eyes to get adjusted.

Johnny’s long legs stretched out on the couch, his head propped up on one side and his feet on the other, clad in nothing but his white boxers. Your eyes trailed down from his bare, toned chest, rising and falling with each breath, down his stomach to the trail of hair that led below his waistband that made you practically salivate at the mere sight of. A pink and purple tie-dye bruise the size of your fist sat just to the left of it, drawing your attention to the myriad of smaller bruises and scratches that dappled his body. He didn’t look too hot but god, did he look good. Practically drooling, you tried your best to hide it, “Can I, uh- get you some coffee?” Johnny’s voice was low and hoarse as he nodded, “Yeah…that’d be great, honey.” He laid all sprawled out like that as you gingerly stepped over the crinkling empty beer cans that littered the ground as you prepared a cup for him and yourself.

Returning, you found him sitting up, the arm that was haphazardly thrown over his eyes having been removed as he took the cup, looking up at you. He was sporting a nasty shiner and a busted lip, but besides that the only thing that was really awry was the absence of his sunglasses. Even indoors and at night, he usually wore them to hide his drunk circles, but you always told him they were cute, especially with the dead look he always kinda had behind his eyes. Leaning down, you gave him a gentle kiss on his purple, bruised cheekbone and he winced. You scoffed at his reaction, smiling, “Don't be a baby.”

Sitting down next to him on the couch, Johnny took that as his cue to get comfortable, laying back with his head on your lap. You ran a hand through his hair, his thick locks tickling the spaces between your fingers. The soothing motion elicited a groan from deep in his throat as he stared up at you adoringly. Johnny snickered, his crows feet crinkling up, “Nice view here.” Yep, he was feeling better. “Oh? Y’like the twins?” You giggled, and so did he, still somewhat inebriated, “Mmhm. Love ‘em.”

“Y’know, Rodge’s playin’ the bar tonight.” Johnny cracked a wry smile, “Wanna go?” You weren’t one to turn him down, even if he couldn’t dance sober, much less drunk. Nonetheless, you probably had all of Rodger’s CD’s in your pick up, and he always put on a great show at the kind of honky tonk bars you and Johnny frequented, so it was hard to say no. “Okay, well…” You stroked one of Johnny’s temples with your thumb, tracing an old scar, “If I can get you feelin’ better by tonight, then sure.” He took the hand that was resting on his face and planted a gentle kiss on one of your knuckles, “I’ll make sure of it, doll.”

☆彡

Johnny always had the fellas over- that is, on nights he wasn't taking you out. They’d build a bonfire on the burnt patch of his lawn and drink and sing Marshall Tucker songs until the sun came up. But on those other nights, when you were out fooling around somewhere far too late- those were your favorite nights- like tonight, nestled snugly under Johnny’s arm in a bar that stank like sweat and booze. Romantic.

He learned how to dance slow from movies, and you could tell from how Johnny stumbled over your feet a little as Rodge started up on a real sappy number about whoring. The lights were all low and his hand sat loosely on your waist, holding you close enough that you could taste the beer on his breath. Leaning down, you felt his forehead rest gently against yours like he was just about to kiss you, but before he could close the distance between your mouths, the song faded out, and applause erupted in the crowd as he wordlessly slipped away from you.

But before you could start panickedly scouring the bar for him, poof! Your boyfriend reappeared on stage, stumbling up to the mic to applause from the crowd. He was somewhat of a local celebrity due to his usual antics and held up to his gutsy reputation with little stunts like this. “Hey, cuz.” Rodger shot him a nod and Johnny grabbed the mic, leaning closer with a grin that could tempt a nun, “I gotta song for a special lady out there tonight. Think y’could help me out?” He shot you a grin as the beginning plucky notes of the next song began. Inside, you felt like one of those teen girls that would scream at Beatles shows, watching your boyfriend drunkenly crooning Johnny Cash to you up on that shitty plywood stage. Well, he was singing it to about a hundred people, all dancing and hollering themselves, but you knew he had his eye on you behind those sunglasses.

The song ended to much applause and excitement, the crowd really fired up from his performance as you stood there, lovesick. All of a sudden you were hoisted off of your feet and into the air! You panicked for a moment before you recognized the familiar cackle of the man who was holding you. “Knoxville!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “That was amazing!” He chuckled, cracking a goofy smile, “Thanks, sweetheart. Now, what’d you say we get outta here?”

“That’d be great.”

#as a southern girl this means so much to me #jackass fanfiction #johnny knoxville

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