#RAMBO: FIRST BLOOD

[ensalada-de-lengua-de-pajaritos]

[anthonysperkins]

Sylvester Stallone as John J. Rambo First Blood (1982) dir. Ted Kotcheff

[soupy-sez]

FIRST BLOOD (1982) dir. Ted Kotcheff

[annoyinggiverpost]

Classic action films

Classic sci fi films

[rambosgirl]

Heyy so I have never done a request (so idk if this is how you do it ☠️☠️) but could you write a Rambo x Reader during first blood where he’s running from the cops and he sees a small cabin and the reader opens the door just wearing the cutest pajamas and has them doe eyes just looking like a little Sylvanian family bunny and takes care of him like stiches him up and feeds him… this was so long omg sorry. OFC IF YOU DONT WANT TO NO WORRIES!! Just thought I’d ask xx

ofc I actually really like writing requests, and I love this idea! hope you like it :D The dividers are by @saradika-graphics

ALSO, the suturing probably isn't the most accurate, I did research and used common sense but don't take it as absolute fact, I am not a doctor 0-0 (one true thing is you DO want to start in the middle of the wound when suturing, and she gives him interrupted sutures, which is one of the most durable)

Sanctuary in the Storm -

The situation John found himself in was escalating. He was injured from the quarry/helicopter/jumping off a cliff into a tree incident from earlier that day. The cops had to back off for now, but John knew they would come again to hunt him down.

He needed a place to hide.

He was used to hiding in the Vietnamese jungle from his training and war, so really anywhere would do where he could stitch himself up. He wandered the forest for some time, the air getting colder and harsher against his skin with every passing minute.

There seemed to be no solid places to cover him. This forest wasn't as thick as the jungles he was used to. Just as he was about to settle for a small group of trees, he looked to the side and saw smoke.

He debated whether it was safe to follow it or not, eventually deciding it was better than nothing. If he really needed to, he could defend himself just fine, he thought as he started in the direction of the smoke.

Upon getting closer to his destination, he discovered the smoke was not from a fire, but from a chimney of a small cabin. It was a nice, peaceful area, less dense and more flat forest area with a small creek babbling through the land. If his situation were different, John thought, it would be nice to live in a place like this.

For now though, he just hoped that whoever this land belonged to was nice enough to let him in.

You stood in your kitchen, dancing to your favorite music. You had the fire in the fireplace and had just put cookies in the oven. You were wearing your pajamas and ready to have a relaxing evening with your book, cozy blankets, and cookies.

Just as you sang the last lyric, you heard a knock sound in the room. You turned off your music and made your way to the front door, opening it hesitantly, revealing a large, disheveled-looking man looking at you with big brown eyes and a large knife at his side.

When the door opened in front of John, the last thing he expected to see was a woman in the doorway looking up at him with bewilderment in her doe eyes. She was in her pajamas, with what he guessed was flour on her sleeves.

In any other circumstance, he would've thought more about her appearance and how peculiar it was, but he was actively bleeding.

He had covered his upper arm with a cloth to clot the blood, but it re-opened as time passed. The scrap of fabric could only do so much.

"Can I come in?"

Her eyes drifted to his covered injury, then back to his eyes before moving to the side to let him in

"Yes, yes of course," you started "What happened to you?"

He stayed silent for a moment, debating what to say.

"I got chased," he murmured. You looked at him, surprised.

"I can help you with that, it looks like it needs some care," you told him. He looked back at you for a moment before deciding to let you help with a subtle nod. Trusting others didn't come easy to him, not that he even trusted you yet, but he didn't see how refusing your help when you gave him a safe place would benefit him in any way. Plus, the blood was starting to drip down his arm.

With that settled, you led him to your sink to clean the wound to the best of your ability. With how far it was on his arm, you had to awkwardly the cup warm, soapy water with your hands to bring it up to it, trying not to spill on the floor. The cut was deeper than you thought. When that was done, you grabbed a clean towel and put pressure on the cleaned wound.

"It looks like it needs stitches," you noted, looking up at him for a response.

"I got a kit, jus' didn't have the time," came his soft reply. You nodded, then led him to your dining table, still holding tight to his injured arm. You sat down as he took said kit out of his pocket. In it was a bunch of survivalist supplies, including a needle and medical thread.

You threaded the needle, then took the towel off, and more blood began to flow. After a quick internal reminder to be brave, you positioned the needle in the center of the wound.

Throughout the whole process, he stayed still like a statue, not even flinching when you started another loop. You repeated the steps in your head: into the skin, to the other side, back again, then knotting it, then repeat again and again until you finished the last one.

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding when you finished knotting the last one.

"Thank you," John spoke in a low tone. He was more than capable of doing all this on his own, but it just felt nice having you do it. Having you care for him in a way very few people were willing to do.

"You're w-" the kitchen timer went off before you could finish your sentiment, startling you.

You walked over to your oven, checking the cookies. Noting they were done, you took them out and put two of them on two napkins. One for you, and one for your guest.

You turned back towards him, still sitting at the table.

"This is what you need to feel better," you remarked as you set them down. "We still need to bandage that," you added, gesturing to his arm.

He nodded, then hesitantly reached for the cookie while you started down the hall to get bandages from your first-aid kit.

You got back with the bandages and antiseptic ointment, immediately getting back to work on his arm, wrapping it not too loose, not too tight. He relaxed a bit but stayed on high alert. Picking up on this, you reassured him "You know, you don't have to be so tense," you said softly, "it's safe here." You tied off the last part of the bandage.

John watched you work, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. "Not many places are," he replied quietly

You nodded. You got the feeling trust wasn't something he gave easily. "Well, if you need to rest or eat more, you're welcome to stay for a while."

He looked at you, a hint of something softer breaking through his hardened exterior. "Thanks," he said simply. He flexed his arm, testing the bandage. He thought about staying but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. If the police found him, he didn't want her to get caught up in that mess. The less she was involved, the less she had the chance to get hurt. "but I should leave."

"Are you sure? I heard there's a storm coming," you said. John confirmed his statement with a nod. You felt a bit dejected, but hopeful to see him again. "Okay."

He grabbed his survival kit from the table and made his way to the door. He turned to you, his eyes soft.

"Thank you," he whispered

"Take care of yourself," you replied softly.

You watched him disappear into the night, the door closing softly behind him. The cabin felt emptier without him, but you were glad to have helped, even for a brief moment. As you returned to your cozy setup by the fireplace, you couldn't help but hope that he found the peace he deserved, wherever his journey took him next.

[zombieoffender]

some of my favorite mens from different favorite medias

[surfingkaliyuga]

“First Blood” Paul Mann 2021

[sonjackcarl]

[crisisofinfinitemultiverses]

Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985) Poster by Yvan Quinet

[razberry-cookie]

I will never not hate how the message of the first movie and the treatment of Vietnam veterans were kind of over looked as the franchise continued, not that I entirely hate each sequel they have their charm but c'mon

[ensalada-de-lengua-de-pajaritos]

[anthonysperkins]

Sylvester Stallone as John J. Rambo First Blood (1982) dir. Ted Kotcheff

[lemonsprite]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 || 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐨 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

Summary: you’re always there to pull him from his thoughts

Word Count:

Warnings: mentions of war and fighting also NOT BETA READ (someone please be my beta reader lol)

A/N: Jojo stop posting fics from obscure/dead fandoms challenge impossible edition also idk why I’ve been posting so many x readers lately but Ty all for eating them up!! Mwah!! Xoxo

John stared at the wall of your shared living room. He sat eerily still on your couch, slumped slightly as his gaze bore a hole into your shag carpet. Hell you’re pretty sure you haven’t seen him blink for the past five minutes.

You’d seen this look with John before. He was stuck in his own head, reliving moments from years ago. Mind lost in the jungles of Vietnam, hiding, killing, and surviving on what little he had while his body remained unmoving in front of your entertainment console.

“John…” you hummed quietly to make your presence known. Gently- as to not spook him like some wild animal- you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and pressed your face against the crook where johns neck met his collarbone.

He flinched involuntarily, mind snapping back to reality as he registered your body against his.

In an instant, John relaxed, melting into your touch. He leaned back every so slightly to get more of your bare skin pressed against his, savouring the touch.

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured into his ear, already knowing the answer as you pressed a gentle kiss to his stubble covered jaw, one of your free hands coming up to gently trace his cheekbone, attempting to calm and reassure him.

John let out a slow exhale, his chest rising and falling with the deep breath. He took a moment to appreciate your touch, a brief piece of tranquility that came to him rarely in civilian life.

“…’Nam…” answered John, his voice a low rumble that resonated in his chest.

Johns words pulled at your heart, a frown threatening to form on your lips as you turned around to fully face him, intent on getting him out of his own head.

“How about we think about something else hm?” You asked quietly. “Like how much I care for you?”

John let out a small amused huff. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth like he was trying to suppress a smile.

“You’re always tryin’ to distract me.” He noted, leaning closer to you.

“Is it working?”

Johns eyes flickered down to where you sat in front of him.

“You know it is.” He grumbled, tone begrudging but not unkind. He shifted slightly where he sat, attempting to pull you into his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Good.” You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and curling up in his embrace, enjoying your partners close proximity.

‘Mission: successful.’ You hummed to yourself, content to stay where you were forever.

[annoyinggiverpost]

[rambosgirl]

Sheriff's Daughter Pt.2

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.

------------

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.

----

@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

[tiffanyblueeverything]

Hijacked from a post that was originally about Pedro Pascal but also seemed to fit my boy