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#rambo x reader
rambosgirl · 2 months
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Sheriff's Daughter Pt.2
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If you haven't read part 1, it's right here
The pair had been walking for some time, eventually making it to the main road that lead into town, talking and learning about each other as they went.
Rambo learned that you lived with your parents in the town they were walking to, called Hope, and you frequently visited the less fortunate where they just were. He thought that was sweet.
You learned that the man beside you wasn't the most talkative person, but he did tell you a bit about himself when you asked. His name was John, John Rambo, a war veteran from Vietnam. He was here to try and meet up with a fellow soldier, Delmar he said, but it turned out he had passed away from cancer.
You had already known that from helping his wife, you just didn't know he was so close to him.
"I'm so sorry to hear that John." Your heart sank for him.
"Thank you, I just don't know where to go next."
"You can stay in Hope, I can help you," you started, "If I told my father about you I'm sure he'd help you too." You spoke enthusiastically, something John thought to be cute, but more realistically, it was probably just wishful thinking.
"Your enthusiasm is...refreshing," he started, "but not everyone is as kind as you are."
The two of you continued walking in silence for a while. It wasn't awkward like one would think. It was actually quite peaceful. You were able to walk in the company of one another while taking in the late autumn beauty that surrounded you, the occasional car passing you by. After more time had passed, you broke the silence.
"Hey John?"
"Yeah," came his reply.
"I have to turn soon to get home, kind of a back way into the neighborhood..." you paused, "I have to take care of my horse, but I'm going into town after, so maybe I'll see you there?" The truth was, you really wanted to see him again, you just didn't want to say it out loud.
John seemed to like that idea, or so you thought. He was a little harder to read to you, so you weren't sure.
The truth for him was, he really did like that idea, and he was about to bring it up. He didn't normally like spending time with others, but you? You made it easy.
"Yeah, I'll probably be getting some food if I can."
You assumed that was his way of inviting you to join him.
"That's a good thing you're hungry, I know the perfect place. I'll try to be quick so you don't get too bored," you said, giving him a bright smile.
"The perfect place, huh?" A small chuckle escaped him. "Yeah, I can do that."
You slowed your pace, eventually stopping so you could make your turn. You pointed ahead of you.
"See the bend in the road? Just beyond that is Hope. Just turn right. I'll meet you in front of the police station on the main road and then we can go eat together."
"Got it," he said, looking over at that bridge. He turned to look at you. "Thank you."
"It's my pleasure." You looked at him a moment longer before continuing. "I'll see you in a bit."
He nodded but kept his eyes on the road for a bit to make sure you were safe starting down your path before continuing on his own.
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You got home fairly quick, not wanting John to wait too long without you. As you passed the pasture in your backyard, you saw your buckskin gelding, Bullet, happily munching on the rest of his breakfast alfalfa.
"Did dad feed you this morning?" you asked him. He just kept eating in response.
When you walked into the house, you noticed your father had already left for work. You wanted to do something nice for him for feeding Bullet, so you went outside to your small fruit trees and grabbed the fruit to bring to the police station. You quickly changed into a warmer outfit, since it was getting colder than you thought and you wanted to take Bullet into town.
'If I take Bullet, I can get to the police station faster and meet John,' you thought as you made your way out of the house and headed to your small barn to grab your steed.
You and Bullet made it to the main street, the police station in sight. You tied his lead rope to a post nearby and walked in with the fruit basket, automatically hearing a chorus of greetings from the officers there. You knew all of them from visiting so often for your dad, and often some would flirt with you. You tried to ignore it most of the time since to you, the only genuinely nice officer was Mitch, a younger redhead deputy.
"Hey, where's my dad?" you asked a group of officers.
"He went out in his car a while ago. Should be back soon," Mitch said walking closer to you. You offered him a small smile before opening your mouth to respond.
"Oh alright. I'll just -- "
"What have you got there little lady?" You turned to see Arthur Galt there, trying to see in your basket.
"It's just fruit, Arthur", you started, looking at him sternly. "and it's for my dad."
You were starting to stress out a bit. John was probably out there waiting for you while you were inside. You had to hurry this up.
"Well, Dad could be a while so I'll just leave these here for him. And don't eat all of them before he gets here please?" You asked, looking at Arthur and Mitch before beginning your journey toward the front doors.
It turned out you didn't have to wait for your dad much longer, as you saw him walking up from outside. The only problem was that John was with him. In handcuffs.
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@akitasblogs @dumbasssimp Here it is! So sorry this took so long for part 2! My motivation is back so hopefully it stays long enough for me to get another part out soon
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imnobodyposts · 1 year
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~John Rambo Headcanons~
[Pt.2]
A/N: Since there isn’t much fanfic out here, I’m gonna post something just cause... it’s fun!! Here are some random headcanons I thought of and what I personally think how John feels. So if anything seems inaccurate and contradictory to his character, *shrugs* can’t help ya there. Anyways enjoy, whoever reads it ☺~! 
Contains: Fluff, Mentions of ptsd breakdowns, all is SFW.
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So where to begin? Let’s start with the fact John is very hands on with the domestic things in life; like helping around the house, cleaning top-to-bottom, fixing things and whatever it is that needs to be done.
It’s obvious he’s handy due to his experience in the military, so if something needs fixing, he’s there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.
Sometimes at the crack of dawn, you wake up to his empty side of the bed, only to hear him hammering away on your roof. (Good thing, the nearest neighbor lives more than a block away.)
While John is considered to be quite the busy bee, every busy bee needs to cool down their motor sometime.
John has a handful of hobbies, I’m sure, and reading is one of them.
John may not look like the type to read, but he actually reads all the time. I honestly see him being a huge fan of old wild west novels.
And if he really liked a certain book in particular, he’d offer to let you borrow it (as it’s a personally owned book), or maybe even read it to you if you wanted him to. Keep in mind, you’re the only person he’d read to or let borrow things from him.
You’re also the only person he’d ever allow to play with his hair. Yes! He loves it when you play with his hair. He never admits it, but honestly, does he really have to?
The first time you played with his hair, he was rather surprised, jumpy even. Not on purpose nor was it his fault (or yours) you startled him.
The only time anyone had ever touched his hair, meant to purposefully harm him. (If you’ve seen the movies, you’ll know what I mean.)
At the very least, John questioned what was happening with his eyes.
Since you’re you, he almost immediately softened under your touch and my god, was it relaxing. Now, if you’re lounging somewhere like in the bedroom or on the sofa, he’d rest his head on your chest, letting your fingers comb through his hair as he read his books or watched TV.
I mentioned him loving to have his hair played with. Well, that’s especially the case when there’s another breakdown from his trauma of the war or when he wakes up in cold sweats from nightmares. Almost always, do you comb through his hair when you’re cradling him in your arms until he fully calms down. You being there is enough for John, but combing his hair is enough to put him back to much needed sleep.
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gigines · 26 days
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John Rambo X Siren reader coming pretty soon because I think we should have more mythological creature x readers and just more Rambo content-
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akitasblogs · 1 year
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If I took requests for Rambo oneshots and posted the ones I've already written, would anybody be interested? Drop your requests below if you wish :)
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gxbbyhoneybadger · 1 year
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Imagine if Dutch Schaefer (Predator 1987) and John Rambo (Rambo movie series) had to work together to hunt down feral Yautjas and Xenomorphs. Like Bro!!
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ayyyy-le-simp · 13 days
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I was having a lovely conversation with my mom today at the dinner table while eating tacos. We were talking about fictional and celebrity hunks. She listed Chris Evans, Thor and Chris Pratt. I listed Harrison Ford/ Han Solo and Bucky Barnes.
“Who else do you find as a hunk?” My beloved mami (mom for Spanish, yes I still call her mami, let me act like a kid around her 🙄) asked.
I snapped my fingers and pointed to nothing but air “Hunter from The Bad Batch.”
My amazing Mami looked at me and said “That’s a cartoon character” She gave me a look and said “that’s…weird.”
I then showed her a picture of Hunter (even though she has seen him before). She then said “He looks like Rambo.”
My somewhat uncultured ass looked up Rambo.
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Oh my gosh
Oh my gosh
Holy smokes-
MY MOTHER, MY AMAZING MAMI, WAS NOT LYING
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Conversation with a friend of mine after looking up Rambo
RAMBO IS LITERALLY HUNTER BUT FROM THE 80S WITH A PEW PEW AND SWEATY ASS ABS AND SHOULDERS ANS BICEPS
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Hunter, baby, honey, sweetheart, cream to my coffee, amor, mi corazón, please, take off your shirt and be Space Rambo. I’ll be your little housewife. I cook, clean, and I’m great with kids. Call me at 1-800-NEED-A-MAN
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issdisgrace · 11 days
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Can’t express enough how in love I am with 80s/90s Sylvester Stallone
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morgandr · 4 months
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Imagine:
Doing a mission with Rambo. You then asks him why he doesn’t have many friends. He responds as he is “expendable.”
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——————————————————————————-
(NOT MY GIF!)
(John Rambo X Reader)
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(TAGS)
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iceman-kazansky · 1 year
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Poll number one here
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babyyweebbitch · 2 years
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so my requests are open for Rambo and Yautja only rn. i have been obsessed with both recently tbh 🧍🏾‍♀️ please request one of those
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rambosgirl · 1 year
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The Sheriff's Daughter
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Your day started out simple enough. You stood in the kitchen, preparing a basket of food, medicine, and some small blankets. Your skirt flowed against your legs as you whisked around the kitchen, gathering more supplies.
You were going to take it to a nearby rural area for the people there who needed help, help you were able and willing to provide. You weren't rich by any means, but when your dad's the sheriff of the town, well, you have more than others.
It was still dark out, but you were determined to get an early start since you had a while to walk. You quickly scribbled a note to your parents telling them where you were going before grabbing your coat and heading out the door.
The air was brisk and cold, coming as a shock to you. You started walking faster, hoping to create some sort of warmth. The full basket heavy in your hands, you were determined to get there as quick as you could. From past experience, you knew it would take you about 30 minutes to walk. Besides the ache already forming in your arms though, you really didn't mind. Helping these people you had already gotten to know was worth the effort. Many in that smaller village were affected by the Vietnam War, and that made your heart tug in several directions.
Before long, you saw the sun starting to peek above the horizon. You knew you were almost there, and making good time, too.
You arrived at the village as people were starting to come out of their homes, starting their work for the day. Children's laughs and playful shrieks filled the rural town as they ran around playing with each other. You made your way to the first few houses, distributing food and supplies at each. You liked to make sure that took time to talk with the people, getting to know and love them.
You soon came upon the house you knew the most, belonging to a widow named Mrs. Barry and her children. You could see her hanging the laundry to dry, but that wasn't the only thing you saw. There was a man you didn't recognize, slowly moving away from her before coming back to give her what looked like a slip of paper. He made eye contact with you as he started walking away again. You averted your eyes and continued down the path toward Mrs. Barry, greeting her as you got closer.
"Mrs. Barry," you called, "I'm back with more medicine!" You got closer and set your basket down. "How have you been?"
You talked with her next to the laundry, even helping her put the last of it up to dry before she invited you inside. Once through the front door, you headed to the table and set out the remainder of your basket.
"Thank you," Mrs. Barry said, "We are so grateful for your visits. God bless you, my dear."
"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Barry. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything I can bring?"
"We're okay here, you've already done so much for us," she replied.
You chuckled before responding. "I'll be back in a few weeks then."
She was amused by your answer, helping you to the door. "I suppose I'll see you then," she said.
You stepped outside, saying your goodbyes before heading back down the path you came, empty basket in hand.
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Since he had seen her coming down the path toward Delmar's old place, he was determined to know more about this mystery girl. Rambo had stuck around, sitting under a tree, just observing the town around him, but keeping an eye on her, talking with the widow of his friend.
Soon they both moved inside the house, staying there for a while. He let his mind wander. How did she know Delmar's wife? She definitely didn't look like she belonged here, so why was she here? She's probably a friend, visiting from a nearby town.
Which was good for him, he was getting hungry. He could use a nearby town.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he saw the girl making her way on the path that lead away from the village. Rambo stood up and made his way toward her.
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You made your way down the road, preparing yourself for the trek back home. You heard footsteps behind you and turned to face a man who seemed to want to talk with you. The first thing you noticed was his height since you had to look up to see his face. He had dark brown hair, a face with a sharp jawline, and eyes that were hard, but had something in them you couldn't describe. You actually found him quite handsome.
Rambo had some similar thoughts about you, seeing you up closer for the first time. He quickly took in your soft features, your long and light hair, and the dress that seemed to hug your sides perfectly.
"Is there a town nearby?" he asked.
His voice was a surprise to you, deeper than you expected. "Oh, um yes!" you exclaimed, getting over your initial shock at his voice. "I'm heading there now."
"Can I join you?" He asked, stepping a bit closer.
"Yes, of course. Although I should tell you, it's about 30 minutes of walking." You smiled up at him as if inviting a challenge.
"I'll manage," he said, smiling softly back.
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Hey people, I hope whatever random corner of the internet that's reading this enjoyed my first piece on my blog. I have another writing blog, but it's Star Wars, so I decided to make a separate one for Rambo since there's not nearly enough content for him out there :(
Anyway, Part 2 is in the works (in my head at least)
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theydrewfirst · 2 years
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Soo like Soft Gurgles 2 is on its way of being done but like,, my dumbass almost had Rambo do some stupid ass shit just now and i was like:
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akitasblogs · 5 months
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Okay, okay, it might not be a very well known fact and might not at all seem like it, judging from my blog, but I am a lesbian 🤡 And since I recently rewatched First Blood again, I decided to try and write a genderswapped Rambo x reader and I might get something out of it, hopefully, I don't know. Might post it one day!
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joshlmbrt · 3 months
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‘A Heart To Heart.’ | s. harrington x henderson!reader
w; emotional rollercoaster, starcourt battle, choking, mentions of death, injuries, blood, hoppers letter in italics because i just had too, a bunch of crying - i am very sorry it was needed, fear of growing up!!! wooo!!!
songs; i know the end - phoebe bridgers, vienna - billy joel
an; this has been in my head for a while, i apologize in advance and hugging you while you read. thank you @taintandviolent for beta reading!! i appreciate you so so much <3 also, this is left open for a part two - if anyone would enjoy that 😼
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— Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I'd forgotten what those even were. I've been stuck in one place. In a cave, you might say. A deep, dark cave.
The tightening around your throat makes you cough, your feet bruised from the mandatory heels for work, nails clawing at Billy’s arm that had black veins twisting an evil web inside. Your teary eyes cut over as you watch El try her best to stand on her wobbly feet. 
You can hear Dustin screaming from the upper level - and maybe Steve, you weren’t exactly sure when every noise sounded like it was muffled. 
Your ears begin to ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head and blurring your vision, hands slipping from Billy’s arms. There’s a sharp pain that makes your head throb and your back ache, a gasp ripping through your throat as you cough, your own hand covering your neck. 
Your other hand feels around and you can tell you were on the floor now. You flip around onto your hands and knees, fingers clawing against the linoleum. You turn, eyes widening when you see Billy’s hands and knees pinning El down. 
“El!” Your voice is raspy, cheeks wet with tears. She doesn’t turn her head, neither does Billy. Her hand lifts, placing it gently onto his cheek. Your chest shudders as you cough again, then something happens - Billy standing, Max’s screaming, and your knees burning as you scoot across the floor and pull El away, eyes squeezing shut as you wrap your arms around her. 
There’s a dull thud that you hear and when you open your eyes, you wished you hadn’t - Billy Hargrove was on the ground, black liquid slipping from his mouth, staining his chin and sweaty white tank top. 
Max was by him, hand on his shoulder as she cried over him. Your eyes drift up as you connect with Dustin’s, glad he was still at the upper level. They drift over to Steve who stares at you, chest heaving and busted lip parting. 
You blink and turn away, grabbing Max’s arm when she falls onto her bottom, the back of her hand pressing in between her forehead as her shoulders shake from her sobs. You pull her close, a hand holding the side of her head, eyes staring at the teen. 
That easily could’ve been anyone of you. 
And even if Billy wasn’t the best person, he didn’t deserve to die like that. No one deserves to die while they stare at the face of something monstrous or inhumane. 
— For the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy. But lately, I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something.
The back of your ankles were blistered and bleeding through your stockings from the heels you had been running around in all night, feet sore and swollen and red. 
Your eyes finally adjust from all the lights that had been flashing from the ambulances and cop cars. The rain feels nice on your skin even though it is sticky when it dries - it feels better than being beaten and thrown against the wall. 
Your eyes linger on your friends hugging loved ones, you notice the ones who don't show. 
Robin and Max sit together on the back of the ambulance, eyes staring at the wet ground. 
Dustin sits with you, head on your shoulder, eyes shut. He called your mom - she would be here any second you know. You pat his arm softly, standing and tightening the blanket around your shoulders as you make your way towards Steve. 
You stop in front of him. “Hey, Rambo.” Your eyes stare at his cleaned wounds and puffy eyes. 
The corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly upwards. “Hey.” You can see his eyes drop down to your neck that had bruised into fingerprints. 
You shift your shoulders a bit, feeling the blanket slip up and hide your neck. “You… you okay?” You turn and sit next to him. 
He picks at his finger, before shrugging. “I will be,” He nods, hair flopping against his forehead. He then glances at you. “You?” 
You give him a small smile. “I will be.” He lets out a small huff, shaking his head. 
— But I know you're getting older, growing, changing. And, I guess, if I'm being really honest, that's what scares me. I don't want things to change. 
Your chest felt like it was breaking as you folded your clothes, fitting what you can into a suitcase for college. 
Joyce had agreed - really insisted on the fact - to let you ride with them on the way to California, even going as far as letting you stay since you didn’t want to stay in the dorms with a random person that you barely knew. 
You could also help around the house when it was needed. 
There’s a knock on your door, startling you a bit. You’ve been more jumpy, but that’s common after the events that have happened. You walk over, opening it. 
“Hey, Dustin. Come to help?” You smirk. He nods a bit, but doesn’t give a smile back. He walks inside past you, going to your closet. You frown and clear your throat, tucking some hair behind your ear. 
You make your way back and continue to fold some pajamas that you had thrown onto the bed. Robin had gone through them early this morning, stealing some of them and any shoes you told her she could have. 
You glance over at Dustin after a while. He’s been more quiet than usual lately - no petty comments or arguments, agreeing to whatever dinner you had said or movie. Rarely leaving the house when you were there. 
“Dusty?” You test the waters with his nickname. He only hums, glancing towards you. You tilt your head, worry lines in your forehead. “You okay?” 
“Yeah.” He nods. He says the word like there’s actually nothing bothering him - like he hasn’t been mute for a while. 
But he’s your brother. And you know him better than anyone. 
“Dustin,” You place the top that you had folded into the suitcase, turning to face his back now. “I know you better than you’d like to admit. There’s something bothering you. You can talk to me, you know?” 
“Fine,” He snaps, turning around. “I-I thought I’d be excited when you finally got out of here - you know. Like younger siblings always feel when… when their older sibling is leaving, but i’m not,” You frown when you hear the crack in his voice. 
“I hate that you are leaving. I hate that things are changing. I hate that… I hate that you won’t be here for whatever I need. I hate that everything is… is changing and it’s going so fast. I-” He stops, shoulders shaking when a sob breaks free from his chest - it’s one of those cries that hurt when it leaves your throat and it hurts your heart when you hear it and see his face crumbling. 
“Dustin, hey,” You are quick to step forward, pulling him close and giving him a tight hug. He hasn’t cried like this since he broke his wrist - but this was a different cry from that as well. Your hand holds the back of his head. “Hey… It’s okay. I’m not going to be gone forever.” 
“You might be.” 
You smile and shake your head. “I don’t think I could stay away from here even if I wanted to,” Hawkins never really felt like a home to you. You always felt like there might be something better for you out of Indiana. But, then again, when you are with the right people, Hawkins feels like home a little bit. 
Maybe it was just the people you were around. 
“Mom and you are here. The others are here,” You pull away and wipe away the tears that stained his flushed cheeks. “I wouldn’t be able to just not come back, Dusty.” 
“Even if you found somewhere better?” 
You hum, faux contemplating as your eyes stare up at the ceiling. “That’s a good question,” You say. You hear a small chuckle and you smile, looking at him. “Even if I found somewhere better.” You nod. 
He nods, releasing a shuddering breath. “You… you won’t forget about us here?” 
You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I won’t,” You pull him closer into another tight hug, eyes shutting when you feel the burn. “I love you, Dusty.”
He nods, curls tickling your cheek. You feel his grip tighten. 
“I love you.” 
— So I think maybe that's why I came in here, to try and stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were. But I know that's naive. It’s just not how life works. 
You flinch when you hear pebbles hit against your window, head turning and glancing as another hits against it. You stand from your bed, making your way over and lifting it once you realize who it was. 
“Hi, you okay?” You whisper, helping Steve inside. 
“I, uh,” He clears his throat. “I can’t sleep.” 
You frown but nod a bit. “I can’t either… Do you… do you wanna stay?” You tilt your head. “You know, like old times.” You give him a small smile. 
“Oh, uh,” He peeks down at his pajamas. He had forgotten he had even worn them - left his house in a frenzy to come check on you. Check to see if you were still here and hadn’t left without saying goodbye. “Uh, sure.” 
Might as well. Since you're leaving tomorrow. Leaving him. 
You smile and nod, walking towards your bed and slipping back under the covers. You hold them open for Steve. He makes his way over, slipping off his slippers and slipping into the bed beside you. 
You roll over onto your side to face him, hand resting under your head as you stare at him. 
“Are you nervous?” He asks. 
You hum softly, nodding a tad. “Yeah. A bit. But it shouldn’t be no different than high school, right?” 
His eyes glance towards your pinky that sticks out. “I wouldn’t know.” College was a sore subject for Steve to even think about, much less discuss. The constant fear of letting his father down was growing tremendously - especially after he had told him about the five rejection letters and how he was about to get a job at the new video store. 
“Steve,” Your voice is soft but stern, brows lifted when he finally looks your way. Your face contorts into a softer expression. “You find the right college one day. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” 
“Kind of hard when you’ve got two harping parents that drones on and on,” His hand moves and fidgets with the loose string on your pillowcase. Your eyes follow his fingers. “I’m scared to let everyone down.” 
“You haven’t so far.” 
He lets out a scoff, humming a bit. “Sure.” Your hand lands on his forearm, thumb swiping back and forth against the tanned skin. 
“You haven’t ever let me down.” 
His eyes jump back up towards yours, mossy greens staring into yours. You smile softly and watch as his pupils dilate slightly. 
“Not ever,” Your hand moves from his arm and rests on his cheek. “You’re gonna be something big someday, Steve Harrington.” 
He smiles a bit. “You think?” 
“I know it.” 
— It's moving, always moving, whether you like it or not. And yeah, sometimes it's painful. Sometimes it's sad. And sometimes, it's surprising. Happy.
You play with the pink post-it note that Steve had left for you after he had woken up and left; 
‘Call me when you come back to town. I’ll miss you.
-Steve.’ 
You smile as your eyes read over Steve’s chicken scrawl, the phone rings in your left ear. 
“Hello?” A man’s voice asks on the other end. You stand up straighter, clearing your throat. You’re surprised to hear who answered the phone. The man rarely left his chair or office when he was home.
“Hi, Mr. Harrington. I was just wondering if Steve was there?” 
“No, he left this morning. He told me he had a job interview at that new dingy, little video store.” You could hear the disgust rolling off in his voice. 
You frown but nod to yourself. “Oh, uh, okay. Thank you. Just tell him that I wished I could've told him bye and that I’ll call him later on.” You doubt the older Harrington will relay the message to Steve, but still, you wanted to just in case he might. 
“Of course, dear. Good luck at college.” 
“Thanks. Have a nice day, Mr. Harrington.” You hang up before he could say anything else, sighing when you turn and see Dustin. 
He gives you a small smile. “Can we… ride our bikes like old times?” 
You smile and nod, stepping towards him and ruffling his hair as you both make your way out of the back door and into the garage, grabbing your bike from the wall it leans on. 
— So you know what? Keep on growing up kid. Don't let me stop you. Make mistakes, learn from 'em. 
To say that there were a bunch of tears would be an understatement. 
There's more than just tears. It’s gasping breathes, hyperventilating, and sobs that feel the Byers’ front yard. 
Your heart feels as if it was being pulled from your chest and stepped on while you die slowly on the ground, watching it being stomped on. 
Nancy hugs you tightly, your eyes shutting as more tears slip from your eyes that you didn’t know were still there. “Could you promise me something?” You whisper. 
She nods, pulling away and wipes at the mascara that stains under her eyes. “Yeah.” 
“Watch out for Dustin, please. He’s… he has a hard time adjusting to change and he’s tried to act like it doesn’t bother him to others, but it does.” 
She smiles and nods, wiping your own tears from your cheeks and pulls you into a tight hug. “Watch out for Jonathan too.” She says, letting out a breathy laugh. 
You laugh softly, nodding, chin quivering as you pull away and exchange a hug with Lucas and Max, squeezing them both extra before pulling away. 
“If you need anyone to talk to, call me always.” You look between the both of them. They nod simultaneously before pulling you back into another hug. 
You let out a quiet sob, hugging them again, before pulling away and looking over at Dustin. His lip quivers when his eyes meet yours. He’s rushing into your arms, tightening the grip when he feels your own tighten. 
“You call me if you need anything or anyone. I mean it.” You whisper. 
He nods, too afraid to speak. His hands grip your shirt in between his palms. 
He ends up speaking anyway. “I don’t want you to go.” 
You nod. “I don’t want to either,” You pull away and wipe away his tears. “But… I’ll be back to visit before you know it, okay?”
His breath shudders when he breathes and he nods. You give him a shaky smile, rubbing at his shoulders. “You’ll be okay… I promise.” 
He nods again, though he doubts he will. He gives you a weak smile before pulling away, wiping at his tears. You sniff as El grabs your hand, pulling you with her, nose red, cheeks flushed, and wet cheeks. 
You smile at her. 
“Ready?” She asks softly. 
You don’t think you are, looking back at everyone who watches Jonathan and Will climb into Jonathan’s car. Joyce shuts the door to the driver's side, starting up the moving truck. 
Despite that, you nod. “Ready.” 
She pulls you along with her, your head turning and glancing at everyone. It makes a fresh set of unshed tears line your eyes again. You quickly look away and slip into the passenger side when El scoots into the middle. 
Your eyes stay trained on the mirror, watching your group of friends watch and wave, their bodies growing smaller in the distance. 
It’s hard leaving them - Dustin and the kids, you babysat them, even played their silly little games when Dustin would beg and beg you. He even would pay you at times with a quarter because that’s all he had. 
Nancy - her determination and her advice for when things would get hard. 
Steve. The person who you didn’t say goodbye to just yet. The boy you’d grown up with, sharing ice cream cones and secrets. Sharing scraped knees and bruises. 
But you held a love for him so deep that wasn’t shared. 
— And when life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. The hurt is good. It means you're out of that cave.
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ayyyy-le-simp · 12 days
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Clarification: I’m dumb asf and I had no idea who Rambo was until my beloved mother told me who he was, i know Sylvester Stallone through his appearance in Guardians of the galaxy 😭 😭
I get the connection between hunter and Rambo now, better late than never am I right? Eh?
I started watching the bad batch right when season 3 came out cause I was like “eh why the hell not, let’s see what this show is about.” And I’m currently on season 1 of the Clone Wars. I’m new to the Star Wars fandom, I started getting into it in the summer of 2023 but I only watched the movies then.
But I’m loving The Bad Batch. Really entertaining and I just love the story and everything about it. I’ve gotten attached to it. (I’ve cried over it)
Better late than never, eh?
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My dumbass. Let’s get focus on the shirtless picture of Sylvester Stallone
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leonsbunny · 3 months
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Lollipops and Lodorform !!♡
( Death Island!Leon x GN!Medic!Reader || patching up your favorite agent ♡ mutual pining || mentions of injuries/a bit of cussing ♡ if i missed anything plz tell me im so so so tired rn)
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The anxiety of being in a waiting room was daunting for him. The feeling of guilt in his heart tugged at his chest as he waited. He didn't know why he felt guilty, like he did something wrong.
Despite the various times he'd been ragdolled on missions, cut up, thrown carelessly around by horrors that Leon didn't want to think about right now, the thing he feared most was hospitals. He didn't like the lodorform smell, the blinding fluorescent light fixtures from above that made everything below them look bland. He hated how enclosed everything was, long hallways, confusing doors.
Leon's cut out of his own thoughts when he hears his name called by one of the nurses up front. He practically jumps out of his chair, already on his feet, to see you.
The sense of familiarity with your last name gave him some sense of relief, he'd met you before out on the field, remembering the lecture you gave him on his ‘acting Rambo’ way of doing things. You'd probably give him another lecture once he stepped into the room you were assigned to.
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“Didn't expect to see a person like you here (Y/N).” He comments, somewhat limping into the room. You were typing away at your computer, facing away from him.
Leon knew you well enough to call you by your first name instead of your last. He had the honor ever since you corrected him out in the field. You were a medic, not a doctor.
Being thrown around like a sack of potatoes wasn't too kind on his body. He whinces a bit in pain as he sits down on the parchment paper set on the exam paper. It crinkled under his weight as he sat down the best he could comfortably. “Same here, Leon. When I saw your name on my waiting list, I had to look twice.” You finally turn around, smiling at him. Your smile quickly fades as you see his injuries, Leon notices this but still tries to keep himself level-headed. As if he wasn't thrown across a room mere hours ago.
You get up from your chair, visibly concerned for him. Of course you were concerned, he was hurt. His right hand covering his arm, you lean closer to get a better look at his wound. “Who did this to you?” You ask in a concerned tone, already pulling out the medical supplies you needed to tend to his wounds. As always, Leon tried to play it off cool, play it off casual as if fighting biological man-made horrors was normal. Clearly, it wasn't. “Some guy.” He replies, not elaborating much on exactly who hurt him. At least he was giving you some idea. Usually, he'd rather talk about what you were up to without him or movies he's watched on the shitty cable TV he had back at the motels he stayed at during missions.
“Sure…some guy..” You repeat, gently moving his arm to size up what type of injury you were dealing with today. It was always something new with Leon, and you were always fondly surprised hearing about what he's done on missions by reading his mission excerpts. Glancing back at his wounds, you wonder who or what exactly caused them. You take his word for it. Some guy.
“What brings you over to a place like this? Shouldn't you be out in the field?” Leon tilts his head as he asks his question, leaning against the wall as he sits. “I asked the suits to be stationed here to help out. The staff is underfunded. I didn't expect you to turn up here either.” You reply, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic. He grimaces in anticipation of the stinging feeling he'd get once it makes contact with his skin as he eyes the contents of the bottle.
“Well they wouldn't send me to just any old hospital.” The agent says in reply, smiling nervously as you pull out cotton balls and dab the antiseptic onto them. “That's true. They probably sent you to me specifically for a reason.” That reason being you were a part of the DSO as well, though only you and Leon knew that. No one else did. They wouldn't send Leon to any old doctor. It must've been fate that brought you two together. Some cheesy shit like that, maybe. Or maybe Leon was watching too many romcoms again. Wasn't his fault they were the only things able to broadcast on the shitty cable TVs he had in the motels he had the misfortune of stayed at.
The agent sucks in a breath through his teeth, eyes quickly closing shut when the cotton soaked antiseptic makes contact with the tender reddened flesh on his arm. It'll probably take an hour or two for a full check-up with you. Just to make sure he's alright. That he's okay.
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You hand Leon a lollipop, a run-on joke between the two of you. It was a joke at first, that joke turned into a routine whenever Leon eyed the bag of candy you always carried with you expectantly. He doesn't even bother to look at the flavor on the wrapper, stuffing it in one of his many pockets on his person. He puts the lollipop in his mouth, realizing the taste. Butterscotch. His favorite. Second to blue cotton candy. He's pleasantly surprised you still remember him mentioning that to you.
“You need to cut out the Rambo shit, okay Leon?” You sigh softly, Leon knew this was coming. The ‘acting Rambo’ lecture. “You know how much paperwork it is to send medical records to the guys upstairs every single time I patch you up? I worry about you, Leon.” You say, sitting back down in your chair and writing something down on a clipboard.
“You don't gotta worry about me, you know that? You don't have to. It isn't your job to worry over a guy like me.” Leon takes the lollipop out of his mouth as he speaks. He's a bit tired of the lecture you always gave him. But if it meant that he could see you, he'd listen to it over and over again like it was his favorite vinyl on record. Hell, he'd even repeat the words like a chorus to a song if it meant seeing you again. “I know, but…” you trail off, eyes softening as you look at him. Even though you were a medic, at this point, his medic you hated seeing him hurt. “You worry me...” You finish your sentence, getting up from your chair.
“Promise me you'll stop being so reckless?” You ask, crossing your arms. “Who are you, my mother?” He teases, chuckling softly at his own little joke.
That chuckle turns into a pained groan when he buckles forward, clutching onto his side again. You reach your hand out, though Leon gently swats it away. “You're hurt.” You murmur to yourself, pulling your hand away.
“Promise me you'll stop being so reckless.” You repeat as you kneel down slightly to look at Leon, who was still buckled over in pain. He breathes heavily, leaning himself back up against the wall again. “How ‘bout you promise me you'll never run out of butterscotch lollipops?” That dumb smile on his face Leon confidently asks his question makes you smile yourself.
“It's a deal, then?” You ask, getting up and handing Leon a blue cotton candy lollipop. This time, he looks at the flavor, smiling to himself even more. “Deal.” He says, putting the lollipop in his snack pocket.
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♡ ⊹ ۫ ۪ ꒰͡₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ reblogs n' feedback r greatly appreciated !! support ur local fanfic writers !! ♡ ͡꒱
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