#Medic cameraman

[striderl]

Sheetz 'bout to blow when single Dads decide to arm wrestle

Veteran belongs to @cosmica-galaxy

[love-draw-fanart]

As a medic, being fully prepared is extremely important

[tabieeee]

I just felt like drawing cams

[lavendertvgirl]

I had a weird dream last night

In the dream there were humans being turned into hardware heads, and in the dream there was a medic cameraman who was wearing street clothes and didn’t want to be a medic cameraman.

He ended up being captured and hypnotised into being a medic cameraman. I was looking through the POV of the person who captured him. Later in the dream I was looking through the POV of the medic cameraman who was trying to escape before he gets captured, I was climbing up a very tall fence to outrun my pursuer, though I didn’t see what they looked like.

[h4nk1ller]

Something I drew in class

Translation

"The Skibidi are chasing us, do you wanna die!?"

"sit down"

"fuck no"

"quick"

and then a camera heli crash onto the Skibidi

[sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame]

*Angrily looks around* ok so we're not writing more werewolf Valeria???? Fucking fine I'll do it myself

En Sus Marcus Part 1/?

Part 2

Summary: Valeria hunts you through the woods, fucks the shit out of you. Congratulations you won and you're her pet housewife now <3

2nd person omniscient, black reader, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, no actual smut in this chapter but still sexy as fuck, kinda dubcon, but reader's DEF into it, bimbo reader, reader's dumb as shit y'all. That being said I could see myself doing similar, dom Valeria, sub reader, predator/prey dynamic, fucky and inaccurate Spanish (corrections greatly appreciated)

This is self indulgent trash and I the humble outdoor cat feasting on the week old chicken wings inside it.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

It was stupid to be out in the forest this late, you knew how stupid it was to be in the forest this late.

You were exhausted. Your boss had worked you to the bone for the last three fucking years and still had the nerve to complain when you used your pto for a single week off to enjoy Halloween—your least busy week of the year—by yourself in a cozy little cabin in the woods.

But you were also stupid. So stupid. And so scared. Your first day in you nearly gave yourself carbon monoxide poisoning when you forgot to open the fireplace hatch. Your second day, you'd left the gas on for an hour and set the smoke alarm off for the second time in three days, and now, your third day in, you saw what looked like a limping dog outside, in the pitch black darkness and your dumbass decided to follow it?

You were cursing yourself out the entire time. Horror movie rule number one was without fail, the black guy dies first. And here you were waltzing into the woods after a random animal that you full well could've hallucinated.

But you didn't. You know you didn't. And while that dog was huge, if it was willing to come that close to the house it had to have been someone's pet. Even if it was a wolf dog or something it was obvious it had been abandoned. You weren't a vet, but it seemed way too alert and aware of how you stood by the door. You'd seen YouTube videos of how animals with rabies acted. They were haunting, but the dog didn't move like that. Aside from a slight limp its head still darted in your direction when it spotted you peeking out the giant glass door into the backyard. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth when it heard you call after it for godsake.

You couldn't explain why or how, and you hoped it wouldn't attack you because explaining why you left the house to medical professionals would make you feel like the biggest wet noodle known to man, but it looked like it wanted you to come closer. So you did.

You walked towards it slowly, making sure to avoid eye contact and making yourself look too big or too small, trying to remember the "if it's black fight back, if it's brown get down" rule and whether or not that only applied to bears. You managed to close enough distance between the two of you that you could shine your phone's weak flashlight on the creature to check if there was any blood on it.

Thankfully there wasn't, not so thankfully it got up, and calmly walked further into the woods, turning its head back every few steps to stare at you pathetically.

At this point, maybe if you hadn't finished half a bottle of pink moscato, you would've recognized that it was probably just politely asking you to back off. In the way an animal does when it does not want to fight. But sadly, you had. And the wolf wasn't staring at you like it was trying to avoid a fight, It was staring at you like how dogs stare at people in those probably faked rescue videos where they lead the cameraman to a den full of newborn puppies.

You didn't know what was wrong with this animal but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you didn't make sure. And you didn't know that there were multiple hotlines in the area you could call instead of risking both of your lives.

It kept looking back at you, tail flat between its legs, ears pinned back, what could only be considered a giant dopey looking smile on its face as you trailed behind it for long enough that your feet started to hurt despite the hiking boots you'd thrown on before leaving the house.

You were freezing sadly because it was the sole practical element of your outfit.

You were in a lacy pink silk nightie that stopped just at your thigh. Thick brown thighs jiggling a little with each step. If you'd bent over, the wolf could've gotten a nice and pleasant view of your pussy peaking out from underneath the fabric cause you never went to bed with panties on. You could've run to pick some up but you didn't want to chance that the animal would be gone by the time you got back with no proof of if it even existed.

Your phone battery was low. Not dangerously so, but enough that it made you really stupid for going out without your little pink portable charger.

But it was such a stupid spontaneous decision. One you'd spend the rest of your life paying for.

You froze when the wolf darted out of sight suddenly. So fast you didn't have time to point your light towards the direction it ran, it was gone before your eyes had caught up to your ears and processed the rustling of leaves trailing off into the distance.

And now you were painfully aware of the fact that you were alone in the woods. And you had no idea how far you'd gone off the path. And that even if it had stayed, the injured animal probably couldn't offer you much help against a bear, or worse, a man with a gun.

You started shivering, the crisp fall air was delightful in the early mornings, but the sun set at 5pm that day and it was in the high forties now. You weren't even wearing a little sweater to keep your arms warm.

Valeria noticed.

She hadn't actually been injured. She wasn't even limping believe it or not, you just weren't wearing your glasses and couldn't tell that she was walking normally. Let alone that she was much much bigger than a wolf dog.

You smelled divine with your pumpkin spice body oil and the cheap wine clinging to your lips.

Valeria was here for fun too. She owned these woods. And everything in them. She was stunned that you hadn't noticed how deadly silent your romantic evening walk had been. There were so many signs this was a trap.

It wasn't at first, of course. She rented the cabin out. She liked to see who stayed in her home away from home when she wasn't there. What they smelled like. Tasted like. If they looked fun to hunt. But then there you were. Standing outside in your pretty pink dress, her favorite color glowing against your skin and making you look like a goddess underneath the light of the moon. Normally she'd have left you alone. She'd always had a soft spot for pretty girls. But you looked and smelled so divine she just had to get closer. And closer. And closer.

She realized you'd spotted her the moment she realized you were her mate.

She could've shat herself she was so scared. The elation from finding her mate and complete dread at the fact that you were so gullible consumed her with every step you took further into the forest.

She'd have to teach you a lesson.

With all the spoiling she was gonna do to you, you'd probably get bratty. She'd have to teach you many more. She wasn't complaining.

But for now, you needed to learn why you don't follow strange animals into the woods.

And you needed to learn that you were hers. Quickly.

You looked around erratically. On the verge of tears. She could hear your little heartbeat racing.

That's when she decided to shift back.

"Excuse me, are you alright?" She nearly convinced herself she meant it.

You jolted around and immediately started bawling. She wrapped her arms around you, pressing you to her bare chest.

"Hey, it's alright. Can you tell me what happened, princesa?

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I've just been so stressed at work and there was this dog—I think it was a wolf dog, and she's hurt and she's definitely someone's pet and she looked like she was leading me to her puppies and I got worried cause if she was willing to lead me there, that means she'd be willing to lead someone dangerous there, so I followed her and we went too deep into the woods and I'm on vacation, I don't know these woods, I'm from L.A.!"

She nodded along, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Pobrecita. You just need someone to protect you, huh?"

You froze. Suddenly and painfully aware of the fact that your head was pressed directly into the bare tits of another woman. You were far from displeased and it wasn't the first time, but still, why in the flying fuck would there be a woman in the woods even more naked than you were?

"Um, ma'am, why are you naked?"

She tossed her head back laughing.

"Ay, que rico, la niña que no lleva nada más que su lencería quiere saber por qué estoy desnuda."

You were kicking yourself mentally at the fact that you hadn't been more serious about learning Spanish all these years. That little green owl was going to kill you if this weird ass woman didn't do the job for him.

"I'm sorry?" Was all you said instead, trying to make your way out of her embrace.

It didn't work. She did let you wiggle around enough that you could crane your neck to look up at her, however, and by god were you grateful. Big pretty brown eyes, hair the perfect length to tug on while she ate you out, an aquiline nose. And the most beautiful, wolfish smile you could ever imagine.

She was the kind of woman that'd make you leave a room just to avoid embarrassing yourself in front of her.

You immediately felt guilty for sexualizing her despite the fact that she was naked and had pressed your face into her tits two seconds ago.

"Shit, you're not doing so hot either, huh? Do you wanna go back to where I'm staying and get some hot chocolate, maybe a shower? Alone! Of course! I can call anyone if you need help too! Oh wait I forgot I had my phone! I can just call the sheriff or something—" she grabbed your phone out of your hands and threw it off into the woods.

You were silent for an embarrassingly long time.

"What the fuck dude." You said it so quietly and calmly Valeria couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry. I'll remember where it went in the morning."

You tried with a lot more fervor to put yourself far out of arms reach from the woman, failing every time. She didn't even have to exert a large amount of strength to pin you to her. You didn't let it stop you, but you knew, you wouldn't be moving unless she let you.

She let her long, sharp—sharper than they should be, you had a fresh set of stilettos, they were not that sharp—nails graze your skin just slightly. A warning. You weren't dumb enough to miss that.

"Stop. Moving." Something was wrong. She growled at you. You'd been growled at before in bed by exes, they didn't sound like that. She sounded like she was barely able to form the words. Like she was twisting her vocal cords around to make sense of the random sounds and syncopations that just so happened to make your little pussy drool.

"Here's what's going to happen, princesa. I'm going to give you..." she leaned in to sniff at your bonnet, shivering and pressing her mouth to your forehead, letting out a moan as her hand snaked down your waist to rub at your ass, just above where your nightgown had already ridden up more than dangerously high. "Ten seconds."

"...Ten seconds to what?"

You could feel her grin grow unnaturally wide against you.

"To run."

This time you shivered. This poor woman was crazy and in need of help and here you were getting off to her delusions. What a creep.

"And then when I catch you, I'm going to breed that wet little pussy. I'm going to take you home. And I'm going to fill you up some more, sólo para asegurarme de que funciona."

You were having a hard time breathing. Her voice was so low and even. Her fingers danced at the hem of your dress and as awful as it was you didn't even want to run. You wanted her to snake her fingers just a bit lower and breed you here. You needed her fingers, her cock, her mouth, whatever she'd give you. You could feel your own cum pooling down your thighs which had literally never happened to you before. She was causing chemical reactions in your body you weren't sure had been previously seen within the human race.

She huffed, smiling a bit.

"Oh! Someone's excited."

You whimpered a bit, at the sensation of her claws digging into the fat of your ass.

"Let's get something straight, princesa. If you don't run properly," she pressed you even closer to her, "if you don't make the chase fun," she trailed her nose down the side of your face, pressing you impossibly close. Her grip so tight it was starting to actually hurt, "then I'll kill you."

You laughed a little bit, or tried to. Wheezed would be more accurate.

"Oh, I'm not kidding. Tengo que demostrar que serás una buena compañera, nena. Que te aseguraras de que tus hijas sean fuertes."

Valeria was of course, lying. But you didn't know that. You didn't know that she'd make sure your kids would grow up nice and strong and much much smarter than their ditsy mother was the day they first met.

"You ready, coñejita?" Her grip loosened slightly, and you immediately took your chance to bite her on the neck. Hard. Hoping she'd let go completely and you'd be able to run back to your cabin and use the ancient house phone before she cut the lines or something.

She didn't though, she just frowned. But you could see the edges of her lips fighting to twitch up into her normal Cheshire grin.

"I didn't say it was time to start running, coñejita."

She grabbed your jaw and tilted your head to the side, trailing her sharp teeth down your neck. You felt like they were cutting skin but her hot breath soothed the ache the second it started.

"En su marca."

She grabbed your ass so hard you could feel the chill night air on your dripping cunt.

"Lista."

She pressed a kiss to your neck with a gentleness you wouldn't have guessed she'd be capable of.

"Fuera."

You knew what it meant but she still didn't let go. She wanted you to feel it through your body when the chase had really begun.

She whispered into you ear, teasingly. Joyfully. An excited impatience emanating from her voice.

"Run."

[m-passer]

…….. NO. STOP STOP-

WHICH ONE?!?!!?!!?

wait a minute...

YEAHHHHH-

my life is better

[tatsumessy]

Bloody nose - { Rin, Sae, Nagi }

You get elbowed in the nose at their game.

rin itoshi

you were sitting in the VIP section scrolling through your phone during a break not noticing the the couple arguing right next to you. apparently the kiss cam showed up and focused on the wrong couple so they were now arguing and the guy next to you was waving his arms around being obnoxiously loud when his hand knocked your phone out of your hands. you bent down to pick it up seeing the cracks on the phone and as you were coming back up his elbow came back and hit you square in your nose.

you fell back onto the ground holding your nose in pain. the man didn’t even realize what he did because he was so busy arguing with his girlfriend. thankfully the man that was sitting behind you yelled at the guy for hitting you which ended up with them two fighting each other. it was a big mess and to make it worse your nose started to bleed. the blood was dripping onto your clothes along with unwanted tears and before you could figure out what to do a pair of hands were cupping your face forcing you to look up.

before being forced to look at the sky you caught a glimpse of Rin. he had ran across the field after seeing you fall onto the ground. the cameraman was so nosey that the whole incident was being filmed on the big screens. “are you okay? y/n? speak to me.” his hand stayed pressed against your cheek while he used his sleeve to clean up the blood from your nose. “I-I’m okay.”

he let out a low sigh then focused his attention towards the man who elbowed you. everyone at that point had gotten quiet and we’re watching the two of you interact. as the medical team finally arrived he covered your ears even though you could still hear and spoke threatening words towards the man, “you hit my girlfriend you prick. if I would’ve gotten here sooner you’d be gone already.” he removed his hands and grabbed your arms leading towards the tunnel so that the medical team could check you out.

“i will be fine. go finish the game, I will be right here when you get back.” he kissed your cheek and ran back into the field to finish his game.

sae itoshi

the moment sae saw you get elbowed in the face seemingly for something you didn’t do he calmly jogged over towards you and climbed up the railings to get to you. he stood infront of you gently gripping the bottom of your chin to get a better look at your nose.

he turned towards the man who was standing protectively infront of his wife, the one who elbowed you. “get your dog before I get her for you. lay a finger on my girlfriend again I’ll make sure you two personally will never step foot in a soccer stadium ever again-” “sae…” he turned hearing your voice watching as you held the back of your hand up to your nose.

the blood was flowing and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon, he held onto your elbows while calling for the medical team to come and check you out. his gaze lingered back to you and he just felt horrible for what happened. you rarely get the chance to come to his games and when you do you end up getting hurt.

when the medics finally arrived he kissed your forehead and shot the husband a nasty glare one last time before returning back to the field to finish his game. make no mistake though, the couple were banned from EVERY stadium in the country. he never told you because you’d be upset with him, he was just worried is all.

nagi seishiro

nagi had never moved to fast in his life and at a quick pace too. jumping over the railings he bent down onto his knees holding the tissue you had up to your nose watching your blood soak the napkin because of your injury. “where did they go?” looking up the two that were occupying the seats next to you were long gone and the only thing you were focused on was your painfully bleeding nose.

his hand rubbed along your back to calm you down while pressing soothing kisses on your head. he could feel your body shaking because of how scared you were. you suddenly got elbowed out of nowhere and because of your laid back non violent personality he knew you were on the verge of breaking down.

he was pissed, really pissed but he wasn’t going to show it because he knew you needed him right now. and this was your first time watching him play too.

nagi did not go back to his game, they still won without him but if anything you were more important. the two of you sat down in the seats as he had his arms wrapped around you and forced you to lean your head back so that no more blood would come out.

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

I loved your medic reader fic! Would you ever consider doing a follow up to that? It could be whatever you want! You write the guys with so much character and personality! ^_^

“Hello Nurse!” (Pt. 2)

Y/N’s contract is renewed, and as filming wraps in California and continues in Miami, she’s brought along on a whirlwind journey across the U.S. and discovers there’s more than meets the eye to this ragtag group of misfits.

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

5.4k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, anal (Dunn and the toy car), crude language, light bullying, drug use, weed, opioids, alcohol, nudity, slut shaming, unsafe driving, injury, blood kink, medical settings, wound description, hazing, premature ejaculation, snakes, humping, threesomes

An: Thank you so much for this request!! I really love Medic!Y/N and I thought I’d take this story in a new and interesting direction ;) I would totally be open for writing more for her in the future, so feel free to drop a request if there’s something in particular you would like to see! Tagging: @sweetest-catha

Being a set medic means that, oftentimes, you end up wearing many hats. For example, if you told someone you were being forced via contract to watch a grown man rectally insert a matchbox car, they wouldn’t believe you- but yet, here you are. “Do- do I really need to be in the room for this…?” Bam stood at Ryan’s bedside clad in black pseudo-scrubs, playing the nurse to your doctor. That’s a nightmare in and of itself. He scoffed, pressing a stethoscope to Dunn’s chest, “Yeah- legal said so!” Ah yes, your old friend: the legal department. The reason you were still around to witness this wonder of nature.

Not even a month ago, you got your very first job as a set medic. According to Knoxville (which is what you had begun calling him, no longer Johnny or his least favorite, Mr. Knoxville), the crew decided to renew your contract because you were a joy to have on set! No other reason- no way… There was a lot more work to do for the movie anyways, and the production would be taking a trip to Miami, Florida to film some stunts in the sunshine state and maybe get some material on the road, and it’s not like they could just abandon their favorite nurse! So, in a dingy hotel room somewhere in California, you were standing by as Ryan laid back on the sheets with his legs up in a mock Lithotomy position and squirted some clear goo out of a tube plainly labeled ANAL LUBE, presenting you with two sticky fingers, “Y/N- y’think this is enough lube?” The cameraman standing in the doorway seemed to find your nervous reaction pure comedy gold, making sure to capture your stammering, “Ah- how am I supposed to know?! I mean, just- just try with that…”

Nurse Bam snickered at the shocked blush on your cheeks, getting this malicious little look in his eye as he whispered in Dunn’s ear, “Dude, you gotta get a little louder with this next one- Just watch ‘er…” Clinging to the wall with your eyes squeezed shut to block out what was happening, all you could hear were snickers and these squelchy noises that you really wished you didn’t know the origins of, before Ryan let out a low, provocative groan. When Bam asked him, “Is it in?” something in you snapped. Ry didn’t have time to respond before you, unable to stand the tension for a second longer, lunged across the room and simultaneously pulled Ryan to his feet with one hand and yanked up his shorts with your other.

While Dunn was getting whatever needed to be done over with in the bargain X-ray place, you slumped in the van with your head in your hands alongside the guys who were busy recording B-roll, “God, I feel bad for Y/N- she’s gonna have’t fish that thing outta him…” The implications here made you jolt awake, “Wait- I’m not gonna do it? I-I thought the x-ray guy was gonna take care of that!” This is a Jackass set for crying out loud! Shouldn’t they have a specialized ass doctor around here? Stifling his own laughter, Steve made a flimsy effort to calm your nerves by reaching around Knoxville to pat you on the back, “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, y’could’ve been in my ass if Dunn didn’t step up like that!” Johnny laughed, turning to address the camera, “Yeah, lesser’a two evils…”

Ryan declined any assistance with the removal process in spite of the constant goading from the rest of the crew, instead opting to yank the thing out himself in the bathroom. And after that, you hit the road. Since the cast and crew would be split up in two vans, Johnny thought it was only fitting to wish them off like a mom sending her sons off to college, “Alright, now don't you boys do anything I wouldn’t do! Have fun, take your medicine, and-“ Honking the horn, Bam yelled from the driver’s side window, “Get in, dipshit!” You were already in the van, squished between Steve and Chris, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of their bodies.

It was around Barstow where you were staring out through a fogged up window which you were lucky enough to score a seat next to, when you spotted a sign on the roadside reading, ‘Don’t gamble with marajuana. In Nevada: Possession- 20 years! Sale- Life!’ Part of you found this really ironic, considering that, right next to you, Steve-O was getting fired like an over cooked McNugget, passing the joking right in front of you to Pontius. You didn't have an excuse to sit up front like Knoxville’s asthma or Bam’s bitching about how much he hates the smell of pot. How often do cops patrol this area? Maybe you weren't hiding your nerves as well as you thought because Chris held out the joint to you between two fingers. Were you really about to do this?

“Oh! I’m, uh- I’m alright…” Nope, you weren't going to do that. Pontius shrugged, opting to pass it back to Ryan in exchange for a can out of the six pack he bought in order to presumably drink his shame away. You tried to focus on the fact that you were a professional; you were here to do a job, and that job was to take care of these young men, whatever it is they put themselves through. Letting Knoxville’s prattling about gonzo journalism and Hunter S. Thompson wash away your thoughts, you looked ahead with apprehension towards the strip-hotel skyline rising up through the haze of the desert.

The plan was to stop at a hotel so the guys could film some stunt and be on your way. Neither cast nor crew would spill the beans but whatever it was, there was no medical liability, so you hung back in the room. So you walked in, laid down the bed, and exhaled all the stress that weighed on your bones. Little did you know that chaos was slowly encroaching in on your little slice of peace. No more than ten feet away, clustered in the hallway outside, there was this childish truth or dare energy that buzzed among the guys. Bam gave Ryan a playful shove, “You go first, since y’got it so bad for her…” Scoffing, Dunn shot a glare his way, “Listen- I took the car up my ass! That gets me off the hook for, like- a week, at least.” Ever the arbitrator, Johnny knew that he could illicit the best reaction out of you, so he shoved the two apart with diplomatic grace, “Boys, listen- I’ll take care’a this.”

Right as you laid down, someone knocked at the door. Assuming it was Jeff or someone else on the crew, you got up to answer it only to be greeted by something entirely unexpected: Johnny, naked. In fact, they were all naked! Practically letting out a squeak at the sight, your face burnt red and you couldn’t meet his gaze even with those shades that never seemed to leave his face. Keeping your eyes down, you realized that may have been the worst place for you to look at considering the only thing you had to focus on was a strip of lean, muscular, Hollywood tan flesh. Speaking to you through the one inch gap allotted by the still in place door chain, Knoxville sounded so casual, as if he was making fully clothed conversation, “Hey, Y/N! Me ‘an the fellas were just wonderin’ if you’d wanna go get somethin’ t’eat tonight!” You couldn’t help but silently wonder about what you weren't seeing, but quickly shook the image from your mind, you had a more pressing matter: the five entirely nude men waiting outside your room. “W-why are you all naked?!”

Vegas- the original adult playground, where big girls and boys go to behave poorly. Given the statute here for things you can get away with before you get arrested, there wouldn't be a better place in the U.S. to film “Nudist Hotel Crawl”. According to Steve-O, who was more than happy to explain, the premise of the stunt was to go about your business in a hotel like taking the elevator or walking through hallways- all while totally naked. They got some sweet footage, but the real fun would arise when their favorite evil mastermind (who came up with the whole ‘taunt the cute medic girl’ idea in the first place) suggested they pay you a visit. Of course, he left that last part out.

They had parts planned out, like when Chris popped up on his toes and used his buddy’s shoulder for stability, smiling at you with that goofy grin, “It’s pretty cold out here! Can we use the shower’t warm up a bit?” If there was something worse than someone seeing you with a group of naked men outside your door, it would be someone seeing said men be invited in. “Where the hell are your clothes!?” It was only after that left your mouth that you realized that their clothes were still in the room. God, it was like this was some demented Abbott and Costello routine…

“In here? All of you naked- with me?” Bam smirked at how suggestive that sounded, replying with quick thinking, “How else are we gonna get dressed?” You conceded with a sigh, fiddling with the lock, “Okay, fine- just…no weird stuff!” You didnt have enough time to peep your head out the doorway to check for onlookers before they all flooded in, laughing and whooping. At the back of the pack was Johnny, who seemed to linger by you for a moment while everyone else ran to the showers or started miming sex acts with each other’s naked bodies. The air between the two of you hung thick as he leaned down to murmur sweetly in your ear, “I’m serious about that dinner thing.” “You are gonna put on some clothes, right…?”

An upside to family restaurants is that they’re usually pretty loud, muffling any crude conversation enabled by the surprisingly free flowing alcohol. “See, that’s the problem-“ Bam slurred, gesturing over to Steve and Chris before taking a swig of whatever was in his glass, “you two’re attracted t’these, like- fake titty bitches with thongs hangin’ outta their ass an’ DSL, like- dick suckin’ lips.” The fact that you were hanging out with the talent in the first place while the rest of the crew- the semi responsible adults such as yourself- were asleep back at the hotel completely eluded you. Eluding you more was the fact you got roped into whatver conversation they were having, “Speaking of, Y/N- you gotta boyfriend?”

You felt like you were back in high school again���Well, you didn’t have a boyfriend, but why in the world would Knoxville be asking you that? Is this just another ploy to make you squirm? He seemed as if he didn’t care how his words made your heart jump into your mouth, languidly chewing as he stared across the table at you. Stammering, you swallowed your nerves, “U-uh…No, actually.” There was a beat everybody just stared at each other before Bam broke the silence by elbowing Dunn, giving him a very obvious eyebrow raise, “Ah! She’s single!” Chris gave you a smolder and Ryan rolled his eyes at Bam’s drunken antics, elbowing him back a little harder, speaking through grit teeth, “Thanks, dude.” And then there was Johnny, the ringmaster to this operation. He just reached over to you and playfully ruffled your hair, grinning in that cute, crooked way, “I was just curious, that’s all…”

After dinner that night, you were off to New Mexico, and it was Knoxville’s turn to drive. Nerves already frayed from the trip so far, you couldn’t sleep if you wanted to, much less with how Bam was sprawled out on both your and Dunn’s laps. Knowing you wouldn’t, Johnny spoke first, “Y’know, I gotta terrible habit’a fallin’ asleep while drivin’…” Well that assured you a lot. He gestured to you with one hand, “D’ya think you could grab me a couple’a those red pills from Steve-O’s backpack?” Steve’s backpack was the Baskin-Robbins of indulgence- yes, the Jansport slumped against your leg was more of a mobile police narcotic’s lab than anything.

Typical medic stuff, doling out pills, even if they weren't exactly yours…you’d put up more resistance, but you didn’t have much of an argument due to the fact that the cast shared pretty much everything else, ranging from clothes to women, so you just handed them over like the nice little pushover you were. “We’re lucky’t have you, Y/N. I mean it…” Johnny thanked you before throwing them back dry, “Y’know, you’ve got this…thing about you. Y’seem like you really care about us idiots.” Barely above the hum of the engine, Knoxville’s words were low and genuine. The way he was talking about you as if you were some set angel lit some fire inside you, steaming up your cheeks and making you avoid meeting his gaze in the rear view mirror. You replied simply, “Well, I do. It's what I do.” Oh, if you kept this up, Johnny might start feeling a little bad about tormenting you so much…Well, clearly he didn’t feel bad enough, the weight of his true feelings carrying over to something he let slip to plant some funny seeds in your head. “Yeah Dunn was right about you…”

Blood trickled down his limbs from angry, red flesh speckled by cacti spines, but Steve didn’t seem to be too bothered by it at all- you hardly noticed that lovesick grin plastered on his face as you diligently worked at removing the prickles lodged in his skin. It seemed the longer you were on set, the more real the injuries got…They were stuck everywhere- from his chicken scratch tattooed arms to his pale, narrow thighs that felt so nice with your hands rubbing against them to smooth the soreness…It didn’t help Steve had to strip down to his boxers as you crouched in front of him, sweat sparkling on your forehead under the New Mexico sun. Steve found the whole nurse/patient dynamic really sexy, but after that previous embarrassing, sticky incident, he’d been trying to keep his cool around you, which was doing a bang up job with, as evident from the way he absolutely botched that last attempt at that “Cactus Jump” stunt. Maybe it was a little more intentional than he’d care to admit, just a bid to get in this position again; It was all soft breathing and these warm touches too tender to stay platonic.

“Hey, uh-“ Clearing his throat to cover up the way his voice cracked, Steve looked at you with these glossy, semi dazed eyes, “Y’got any pain pills over there?” Ah, yes- memories of Ed the Medic and his assortment of multicolored opioids. Distracted by trying to grip a spine lodged particularly deeply in his thigh, you sort of dismissed him given how familiar you were with his righteous, clean living indignation towards painkillers, “Don’t you have some in your bag?” Before he could question you about knowing about his stash, you suddenly had more pressing matters to take care of: this primal, I’m talking primal, life or death shriek of terror you hurt maybe twenty feet away. Assuming something went horribly wrong, you lept to your feet to investigate. This is what you went to med school for- saving lives!

Well, not exactly. It was Bam, cowering in the face of a desert kingsnake. Well, it was more of a stand-off, but it was obvious who was losing. You called out to one of the cameramen nearby and started to walk the talent away to one side, “Hey, can we get a chair or something for Bam here?“ It's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to snake bites, so you gently sat him down and started the now routine line of questioning that follows a snake bite while inspecting high risk points: the wrists, the neck, etc. He didn’t seem like he was bleeding, and when you tried to ask if he knew if the snake was nevemos or not, you didn’t get much of an answer. Bam talked with his hands as he prattled on in this little-boy-lost-at-the-zoo voice, “It- it didn’t bite me- but that fuckin’ thing’s lookin’ at me, like-!” The snake was still sitting a few feet away when it suddenly lunged towards the two of you. It was pretty obvious it couldn’t do anything from this distance, but that didn’t stop Bam from flying backward and nearly topping out of his chair.

This was a side of him you hadn’t seen before. Previously, Bam was a schoolyard bully who’d shank you like a jailhouse snitch at his earliest convenience- or at the very least, try his damndest to make you squeal and cry by any means short of tugging on your pigtails. But are those tears you see? Initially, part of you thought he was playing some cruel joke to tug at your heartstrings, but the longer you looked at Bam- and Bam looked at you, with those big, baby blue doe eyes that just beg to be comforted- you saw another side of him: a weaker, more vulnerable side. And it sounds weird to say, but you really liked this side of him. Broken. Pretty…

As you knelt down in the hot sand next to him, Bam suddenly lurched towards you, clinging to you in maybe the most awkward yet strangely sweet hug you’ve ever received. Not having been trained on what to do in this scenario, you just sort of did what felt right, reaching out and rubbing his back, “You’re okay, you’re fine…” Your stiff but soothing platitudes seemed to ease the shaking in Bam’s shoulders as the guys all stood around and watched, snickering at how you were reluctantly mothering him, “The snake’s gone, you’re alright- you’re fine…you’re sure you didn’t get bit?”

If the broken air conditioner wasn’t an issue driving to New Mexico, it was certainly an issue driving through New Mexico. The guys were still giving Bam a hard time about the snake freak out by the time you were halfway to Texarkana, and Dunn was happy to finally get some leverage on him after all that shit he gave him about bein’ sweet on you, “Look at it this way- now that we’ve gotta lady who can kiss your boo-boos, maybe you don’t need’t live with your mom anymore!” You were amazed at the way these men could just be so mean and awful to each other and still stay friends, but hell- if that isn’t a testament to friendship. Still a little shaken judging by the look in his eyes, Bam whipped around in his seat to snap back, “First off, Ape lives with me, asshole- not vice versa. Second of all-“

Reaching into the center council, he grabbed a styrofoam fast food cup of soda and tossed it back at Dunn, inadvertently getting about half of it on you. This earned him a good shove, sending his cackling, half clothed body against the dashboard because of course these men don’t wear seatbelts. As the chaos unfolded, all you could do was sit there, dripping with soda, frozen while you bore witness to how quickly they all turned into animals. Well, all of them except Ryan, who noticed the dark, sticky mess on the front of your shirt and doubled over to scrounge around on the floor of the van, “Here- y’can wear this if you want,” Dunn sat up and smiled softly as you unfurled the wad of fabric he handed you- his shirt. “Sorry about Bam, he’s…well, he is normally like this, but he’s still an ass. Our ass.”

At the rodeo arena where they were supposed to film some bull stunt, you still wore Ryan’s shirt underneath your navy blue medic jacket, and you thought nothing of it. You’d been called in because Knoxville took a particularly nasty hit and wasn’t getting up, and if you had a nickel for every time that happened you’d be able to retire. The first thing you noticed when you walked in was the glassy, nine mile stare that Kossick was sporting- the growing uncertainty that he’s going straight to filming Milfbusters 7 after this movie gets shelved on account of their main star biting it. Kneeling down by Johnny’s side, you took care not to move him too much on the chance he suffered some degree of head trauma as you gently peeled the shattered remains of his glasses off of his face.

“Howdy, ma’am!” Knoxville grinned at you from the ground, surprisingly with all of his teeth intact, “I’m just a little concussed- I’m alright. Y’ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me…” Dismissing you the way men tend to do when they’re injured, he tried to pull himself up on his elbows but you gently guided him to lay back down, “I really don’t think you are…” Concern weighed heavy in your voice as you cupped his cheeks in your hands to get a better look at his face, “Only one of your eyes is looking at me right now, Johnny.” He swatted at the dust filled air dismissively, shaking his head, “Ah, that’s no problem- I wear glasses anyways.” Yep- par for the course in terms of head injuries. Slowly, you went about examining him, starting at gingerly running your fingers over his scalp to check for blood or lacerations and moving down to his neck and shoulders, “Tell me if you start feeling tired, okay?” Continuing the exam, you pulled up his shirt to assess for broken or bruised ribs and your eyes perversely wandered down to the hem of his shirt that was riding up, showing off his askew belt buckle and the dusting of hair that led below his waistband. Johnny let out an amused chuckle, his accent seemingly stronger post concussion, “Well, that ain’t gonna be happenin’ with the way y’keep touchin’ me, sweetheart…”

Off in the peanut gallery, you could hear Bam and Ryan jeering him from the stands in faux southern accents, “Ain't that the fella on TV?” “Seems like ‘Hollawood isn’t cut out for bein’a cowboy!” “Y’reckon we’ll git on ‘is show?” Completely uncharactic of you, the thought occurred to you to turn around and tell them off for acting like such children in this situation, but before you had a chance to open your mouth, guess who came bounding down the stairs to plop down by his buddy’s side and make sure everything was alright? Steve wiggled in right next to you, “Knoxville, dude! You there?” Johnny blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus on the weird tan blur above him, “Did- was it funny?” Steve grinned in that cute, boyish way he always did, “It was hilarious!” Holding his hand out for a high five, Johnny missed Steve’s hand by a good couple inches before he grabbed his wrist, pressing them together.

Knoxville was chewing Vicodin like Twizzlers to stay upright- and even then he could only barely stagger around, usually having to sling an arm around the shoulders of whoever was closest to him. That isn’t to say the other guys didn’t have their fair share of injuries: for one, Ryan hadn’t been able to sit right since the toy car incident, and for some reason you felt bad for him- a little more than you usually did with set injuries. Maybe it was due to the fact that the guys found it absolutely riveting, especially Bam, “Cmon, aren’t you used’t takin’ it up the ass by now, Dunn?” Turning around in his seat, Chris gave his two cents, “I’m not saying I would’ve gotten the footage you did, but if I was the one who took the car up the ass, I would’ve done it with a little more poise.“ While Steve, who sat curled up against the door sleeping off the antibiotics you gave him for those infected cacti wounds (surprise, surprise!), swatted at Pontius and murmured something about shutting up and letting him sleep. “Aww, Sleep-O’s gettin’ fussy ���cause he didn’t get his nap?” You could handle this: banter, joking around- this was nice,

Since the usual instigators were out cold, things got pretty quiet in the van for a while until Bam, who was sitting on one side of you, leaned conspiratorially close to your ear, “Hey. Y’know Dunn’s got the hots for you?” Blinking in surprise, you tried to keep your voice low and only managed to stammer out a, “Huh?” All this time you thought he was just being nice to you! However, you had to admit, the idea did cross your mind once or twice…Still, Bam was fucking with you- he had to be. But now that you really thought about it, he really doesn’t seem like the type to make the first move. Gesturing to you and Ry with a black painted nail, his voice dropped to a teasing coo, “I mean, if you’d be up for it, maybe the three of us could-“ Cutting him off before he could finish whatever poorly thought out plan he whipped up to pass the time in the back of the van, Dunn reached behind you and swiftly whacked the back of Bam’s head, cutting him off, “Don’t listen to that idiot.” It took you accidentally sliding against Ryan’s side, practically snuggling in under his arm to realize what Bam had in mind, your cheeks going pink at the images your mind conjured. “Ah! I think she likes that idea!” All you could do was sit there and stew on what the hell just happened.

The cast and crew made a pit stop at his Knoxville’s folk’s place because his cousin Rodge’ had a pretty genius idea for this stunt that made great use outta some old paintball guns he found in the garage. It also helped that the little gang of hellions that were Johnny’s nieces, nephews, and unspecified cousins were more than happy to join in on the fun, taking up arms and firing away at our rowdy gang of misfits, which you had to admit was really fun to watch- especially when Party Boy ‘crashed’ the family reunion, dancing in the back gate wearing that shiny little mankini to be greeted by a barrage of neon splatters of paint. There was just something so endearing about the way Chris could laugh as he got pelted with paintballs while all the other guys were yelping or groaning in pain.

“What in the world’s wrong with that boy?” Rodge shook his head, putting down his gun as the guys hobbled off, resembling fucked up Jackson Pollock style preformance art. Limping over to where you were sat on a lawn chair, Chris still had that smile on his face as he spun around and bent down in front of you at a ninety degree angle, “Hey, Y/N- I think I got shot he-“ Having seen this trick before from Bam, you initially flinched away and your hands flew to cover up your eyes, “Oh!” But the thought occurred to you that Pontius didn’t really have any pants to drop and couldn’t flash his ass if everyone else could already see it, so you slowly peeled your fingers away to find him presenting you with a legitimate injury: one of those trademark C-shaped paintball wounds. Apprehension turned to curiosity as you cocked your head, examining it, “How’d they even get you there…” I mean, it was in his ass crack, which made it a definite infection risk, but this was something you could help with- now, at least, after a month or so doing this shit.

Walking him off to the side of the yard away from any prying eyes, you instructed Chris to pull his Mankini down as far as he can without exposing himself and chuckled that cute, dumb laugh that you’d come to associate with him, “Well, you don’t have to ask me twice!” As you gingerly dabbed a soaked cotton ball against the swelling, purple and red injury, he shivered at the feeling of the cold alcohol, “Ooh!” Not having extensive expereince dealing with asses, you assumed you might’ve done something wrong, “Did that hurt?” “No, ma’am! I think I got another one on my-“ Before Chris could finish turning, you whipped around, simultaneously flustered and shocked. Yeah, this was exactly the kind of thing he was good at: throwing people off just a little. Still, when Pontius was recruited to mess with you, he never got that serious with it, “I’m kidding! But I may have to call you later for some extra medical attention…” Stumbling to your feet, you walked away to where the rest of the guys were getting hosed off, face still bright pink with your voice about three octaves higher, “Anybody got any other injuries? Anybody!”

After what felt like an eternity but was really a little under a week, you arrived in Miami: tired, unshowered, and on the verge of putting in your two week’s notice. Sure, it was fun and all but a part of you knew you might not be cut out for this. You had half a mind to tell everybody to have fun before catching a flight home because you'd really had enough, but for a reason you couldn't really place, you decided to stick around. Maybe it was how nice the sun felt on your skin or the excitement that all of this was finally over with and you could finally take a breather.

Well, not quite. See, the whole reason they were going to Miami in the first place was to film a few water stunts. You’d spent a good chunk of the car ride listening to Bam prattle off about all these stunt ideas they had, namely, “Waterskiing D-Style” stunt- the one where Ryan was bent over and Bam was behind him in a faux humping position, with the two of them wearing waterskis and being pulled by a speedboat across the water- a pretty funny sight gag, sure. But naively assuming nobody could get too injured from relatively safe aquatic sports, you decided to hang back with some of the cameramen and PAs. “Y/N!” Putting an end to social hour, Jeff poked his head in the crew van and waved you over, pointing off into the distance, “Dunn just took a ski to the head- think y’could check on him?”

Rushing across the sand with med kit in tow to where Ryan’s pale, waterlogged body had been dragged inland, you dropped to your knees to peel a few wet, blond strands of hair away from his face to examine the fresh, candy apple red gash on his forehead. Blinking his eyes open, Dunn looked up at you with adoration behind his thankfully equally sized pupils. It wasn’t as serious as some of the other injuries you tended to, but it would need stitches- and soon, so in the meantime you started on cleaning up the affected area with an alcohol wipe. “Wow…You really know how t’take care of us.” Ever since that thing in the car you had been thinking about Ryan more, how unlike the other guys, he was never too awful when he got put up to fuck with you- always a little apprehensive to go too far. Clearing his throat, Dunn glanced up at you, “Hey, y’know when Bam said I kinda had the hots fr’you?” It was around then that he realized that, given the fact he had suffered a head injury, he kind of had a pass to say whatever he wanted with minimal repercussions, “Yeah- he was tellin’ the truth…”

Wait, what? Here- now?! Was this the heat playing games with you? Before you could slap yourself for not considering this sooner, Ryan reached up and gently wrapped his fingers around your wrist, tenderness slipping into his voice that let it slip he wasn't joking, “How about you and I go grab dinner sometime?” From further down the beach, far out of earshot, Dunn’s hump buddy from earlier yelled out to you, “Hey, Y/N! S’he gonna be alright?” Swallowing thickly, you tried to stabilize your voice as you shouted to Bam, “Yeah, he’ll be just fine!”

“Alright! Get the beers!”

[beatrixst0nehill]

"And now, allow me to demonstrate what will happen to my huge, beautiful breasts tomorrow. The wait is finally over everyone. Are you ready?" Marissa winced and recoiled as she carefully ran the wood through the saw, quivering with anticipation. "Holy shit," she said, after it was done, her pussy getting extremely wet, irresistible. She placed her hand down her jeans and played with herself, her mouth wide open, eyes rolling back as she masturbated, picturing the fate of her beloved tits.

Marissa had been fantasizing about getting rid of her breasts for years. She'd been a masochist ever since she could remember, and made a YouTube channel as well as an OF all about bondage, happily showing off her sexy body, especially her fat, gorgeous natural breasts. She absolutely loved making content centered around abusing them. Tying them up until they got taut, becoming purple. Whipping them, paddling them, sticking needles in them, push pins, even cutting them with razors for a sexual thrill. More and more her content became focused on this, she started off educational, but moved on to saying things like, "Breasts as big as mine deserve to be ruined," or "If you have really big boobs like me be sure to have your partner focus all the torment on them, because destroying them should be your #1 source of pleasure."

As her fans grew to like her extreme focus on abusing and harming her tits, Marissa decided to finally just be honest and admit what her goal was. She started upping her game, torturing them with greater intensity. Burning them, crushing them, making sure they were constantly bruised and beaten raw, walking around town in tiny tops, livestreaming as people reacted to see her breasts covered in bruises, burns, cuts, and tiny stab wounds. She loved the attention, and found that in private men would claim stuff like that was disgusting or a waste of a beautiful set of tits, but in person it drove them wild, animalistic, even. They'd see her tortured boobs and want to contribute to their undoing. They grab them, pull them from her top, smack them, spit on them, punch them. And Marissa would vulgarly encourage them, spitting on them herself, smacking them, telling them to hit her bloodied, bruised tits harder.

Finally, she took a two-week hiatus. Her breasts mostly healed. She opened her stream saying it was excruciating to go so long without abusing her boobs. But she wanted them looking perfect for the grand finale. She grinned wickedly after sawing the wood, telling her audience, "Medical professionals will be on standby as my awesome cameraman gets to feed these giant titties into this saw, and we watch the blood and fat splatter! I can't wait, and I'm sure you can't either! My arms will be tied behind my back, I'll be naked, propped up on one of my biggest vibrators, getting my pussy destroyed as I watch my titties get sawed clean off for all of you! ❤️ And speaking of my pussy, since I won't have boobs anymore, I'm thinking of turning the focus of my content on my poor pussy. Imagine the fun we can have with it if I pump it up and inject it with loads of saline so it looks cartoonishly bloated. It'll be so much fun ruining my pussy! Don't you all agree?"

[striderl]

"Any man can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a dad."

-- Anne Geddes

[love-draw-fanart]

Funfact

H.264's upgraded equipment was collected by him from corpses, not provided by the alliance. He is also the only one who possesses upgrades. At first, the commander did not agree and force him to take them off, but Christ, his best friend, Cameraman with a green jacket and Christmas pattern tie. Did his best to get the commander to agree to let H.264 keep his upgraded equipment. H.264 also wanted to own a jetpack, but was strongly opposed by Christ.

[tabieeee]

medcam doodles and a headcanon I have about cameramen heads

it's the same head just without the protective casing + flashlight and an added lens for extra nerdiness

[rainderthesomeone]

say, CHEESE!

It was Picture day for the RED mercs, (that's what Miss Pauling and the admin call it, in reality its just an examination to make sure RED team still useable to them, to make sure they haven't broken down physically or mentally yet, the Admin still needs them for another year at least, the only merc who's suspiscous of these photos, is sniper.)

Sniper sneezed mid picture, and Soldier wanted to snap the cameraman's neck, Medic proceeded to laugh at Sniper, and Pyro and Scout are enjoying themselves, and Engie is the only one who got a slightly normal photo. Demo did to.

inspired by this post I made of the offical valve pics you can use on your steam profile, loved the little lore details behind them and I tried to replicate that

[h4nk1ller]

Skibidi Human design (3/3)

Cameraman + a fun fact about them

(these design made specially for fun and design practice)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For a snapshot imagine a driver accidentally hurting the reader and she has to hide it from Danny because he would lose his shit. He gets worried but a bit angry that she’s lying the cause of it. Once he finds out he wants to kill the other driver because is a severe injury

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {4}

WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

You settled into the driver’s seat of an Aston Martin used for hot laps, keeping your arms out of the way while you were harnessed in. Lando and Oscar doing the same in the other two cars parked beside you, except they didn’t need the extra help to be buckled in. “I’m telling you now, this is a bad idea. I want that on the record. There’s a reason I’m a passenger princess.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lando promised over the headset and you fiddled with the dozens of buttons on the steering console. “Just don’t touch anything!”

“You should have told me that before.” The cameraman sat beside you laughed nervously and you narrowed your eyes at the lens. “If I die, I want you to remember this: I told you so.”

You muttered under your breath that you were not paid enough for the crap your employer put you through but it only made Oscar and Lando laugh as the microphone picked it all up. 

“Okay, we’ll start off with a warm up lap, just take it slow and get used to the car,” Oscar said as Lando led the way onto the track. “I’ll follow so you don't get lost.”

“It’s a flippin circle, Piastri, how often do you get lost?”

The car shot forward, throwing you and the cameraman back into your seats as you pressed the accelerator and out of reflex you slammed your foot on the brake to counter the effect. Oooph! The air was squeezed from your lungs as the car stopped but your body kept going forward, the harness like a wall hitting your chest. 

“I think you’ve put it in race mode. Turn it to sport mode.”

You scanned the buttons and saw what he meant, making the adjustment before tentatively touching the accelerator, gently speeding up to 70mph.

“I know we said take it slow but you can speed up a little bit,” Oscar teased as he tailgated you, Lando nowhere to be found up ahead.

“You do realise I am not actually a racer? I just date one.”

“Danny must have taught you something in the last two years.”

“Yeah,” Lando interrupted with a giggle. “But from what I heard, it isn’t anything to do with racing.”

You might have laughed if you weren’t concentrating so hard on following the track, until something caught your eye. “Uh, Oscar, are there wombats in Canada?”

“No…that’s a groundhog.”

Another brown ball of fur charged across the track and you screamed as you slammed on the brakes, not wanting to hit the poor animal. Oscar hadn’t expected you to brake so suddenly, or try to swerve aside. There was nothing you or he could do when you started to spin out, straight into the space his car was aiming for.

“Shit, shit, is she okay? Is she okay?” 

You could hear the panic in Oscar’s voice as he tried to push his way through the crowd of first responders trying to open your door. Pain radiated down your arm but other than that you seemed to be in one piece, except the world was upside down. “I told you so.”

“What the hell happened!” Lando exclaimed as he arrived at the crash site in time to see you escorted into the back of the medics van. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Not particularly,” you murmured around the tube you bit between your teeth. You sucked in another deep breath of pain relief as your arm was jostled and looked up to see Lando shaking his head.

“Not you,” he said as he looked at Oscar’s pale face. “Daniel’s going to kill you, mate.”

“No, he’s not,” you huffed as you got off the stretcher you had been guided to. “I’m fine so he’s never going to know.”

“You see those,” Lando stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Those are cameras, they record things, pictures, sounds. Yeah, he’s gonna know.”

“I know what a camera is, a heavy one just fucking hit me.” You cradled your arm to your chest and took a calming breath. “This wasn’t live so it’s going to be a few weeks before this even gets uploaded. By then I’ll be fine and we can all have a laugh about it, alright. I just need to make sure Danny doesn’t hear about it before then.”

“Kind of hard when you need to go to the medical centre.”

“Then I won’t go.”

So you didn’t.

You did however accept the box of pain relief and advice to see a doctor if the pain persisted or you showed any signs of a concussion. You weren’t worried so much about that since the helmet had protected your head, it was just your arm that took the brunt of a camera smashing into it.

Daniel was surprised to see you already in the hotel room when he arrived from his meeting. Usually you stayed at the paddock later in preparation for the upcoming races but he was happy to have a few extra hours alone with you.

Leaning across the back of the couch, he greeted you with a kiss but you pulled away as his palms trailed down your body. His touch had been soft but you had still felt the burst of pain in your arm and you were glad to be wearing a long sleeve shirt to hide the bruised skin.

He frowned at the distance you had put between your bodies and he was instantly on edge. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling very good.”

He grabbed his phone and opened the app that monitored your monthly cycle before closing it with a frown. “Should I call for a doctor? Do you have a fever?”

He reached for your forehead but as his hand lifted it brushed against your arm and your face pinched as a pained cry hissed through your teeth.

“What happened?” he asked with barely restrained rage, his fingers desperate to touch you but unsure if it was going to cause you more pain. Tears were already welling in your eyes as you tried to keep the ruse up, but it was becoming unbearable.

“There was an accident,” you admitted as the wet streaks ran down your cheeks. “I didn’t want you to worry…”

“You’re hurt, kitten, of course I’m going to fucking worry.” He swiped the room key back up from where he had tossed it along with his phone and keys. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

You knew he was fuming from the clipped tone and the white knuckle grip he had on his keys. Reaching out with your good hand, you laced your fingers with his and whimpered into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel gently wiped the tears from your cheeks before kissing your forehead with a shaky breath. “I’m not angry at you, love, but don’t you ever lie to me again, not when it comes to your health.”

You nodded meekly before he reached for the door handle where he paused. “Lando or Oscar?”

“What?”

“You were filming with McLaren today.” He looked back at you, scanning your face for the truth. “Who do I blame?”

“It was an accident. Please, Danny, can we just go? It's so sore.”

His eyes softened at the admission and he twisted the handle but you knew the conversation wasn’t finished, merely delayed.

“He broke her fucking arm!”

The wince had nothing to do with the doctor setting the cast on your arm and everything to do with Daniel’s voice out in the corridor. He had been on the phone the instant the X-ray came back and showed a clear fracture down the bone. Now you were going to have a bulky accessory on your arm for the next six weeks.

“You’re lucky it was only her arm or I’d be on my way to jail by now,” he growled as he pushed the door open and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“It was an-” you fell silent under the glare you knew wasn’t actually directed at you. He hated to see you hurt and hated he hadn’t been able to prevent it. It left his hands trembling with rage.

“I don’t know what they were thinking,” he muttered as he fell into the chair beside your bed and lifted your good hand to his lips. “Stupid fucking little videos...promise me no more.”

“But it’s my job.”

“Then quit,” he offered, like it was the simplest option in the world. “It’s not like you need it, I take care of you already, and I like taking care of you.”

“Danny…” you sighed, unsure how to approach the situation. “What if we ever broke up?”

“Is that in your plans?”

“No, but-”

“Good, because I plan on keeping you forever, and I’m more than happy to make that official. Obviously this is just a placeholder until we get home.” He started to pull the ring he wore on his pinky finger. “What? I’m terrible at losing shit, I wasn’t going to carry around your engagement ring until I found the right time to propose to you.”

You chuckled as he waited for your hand to unfurl from the fist it was in. “And you decided this was the right time?”

“I could have lost you today, kitten, I’m not going to waste another moment.” Your hand uncurled and the warm metal slid onto your ring finger before he kissed it and leaned in to kiss you too. “You’re mine, always.”

“Always,” you promised against his lips.

“Perfect, if we elope today I’ll get conjugal visits when I kill Oscar.”

Click here for part five