#rambo x reader
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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.
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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
#john rambo x reader#rambo#john rambo#rambo x reader#rambo first blood#first blood#sylvester stallone
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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.
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.
#rambo#first blood#rambo 2#rambo 3#rambo x reader#fanfiction#sylvester stallone#Headcanon#sfw#LET THERE BE MORE FANFICTION#This gif makes me go feral!!🐺#probably will edit later maybe
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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-
#john rambo#sylvester stallone#siren reader#x reader#rambo x reader#john rambo x reader#fanfic#monster reader
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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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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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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.
Oh my gosh
Oh my gosh
Holy smokes-
MY MOTHER, MY AMAZING MAMI, WAS NOT LYING
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
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
#star wars#holy cow#holy smokes#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch#bad batch hunter#hunter the bad batch#rambo#sylvester stallone#80s men#dilf fan club#PLEASE LET ME BRING MY MAN#OH MY GOSH LOOK AT THOSE BEAUTIFUL ABS#FOAMING AT THE MOUTH#PLEASE ILL BE A GOOD GIRL#ONE CHANCE#thank you to my mom for opening my eyes#the bad batch star wars#tbb hunter x reader#Star wars you bastard for making hot men#hunter x reader#the bad batch wrecker#the bad batch echo#the bad batch tech#the bad batch Crosshair#love you mom 💖#Sylvester Stallone you are one gorgeous bastard
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Can’t express enough how in love I am with 80s/90s Sylvester Stallone
#sylvester stallone#80s#90s#rocky balboa#john rambo#sylvester stallone x male reader#sylvester stallone x reader#rocky balboa x male reader#rocky balboa x reader#john rambo x male reader#john rambo x reader
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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)
#old hollywood#oldhollywoodedit#john rambo#sylvester stallone#sly stallone#rambo#rocky#gif imagine#moviegifs#images#imagine#fame dr#x reader#fluff#y/n#vietnam
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Poll number one here
#star wars x reader#anakin skywalker x reader#top gun x reader#x reader#send help#polls#the hunger games#marvel x reader#john rambo#daniel larusso#finnick x y/n#female reader#angst#y/n#iceman-kazansky
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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
#yautja#yautja headcannons#yautja x y/n#yautja x reader#predator x y/n#predator headcannons#predator x reader#alien vs predator#rambo#john rambo#sylvester stallone#last blood#first blood#john rambo x reader#john rambo headcannonss#john rambo x y/n
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The Sheriff's Daughter
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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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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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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Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...
Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)
Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.
Word Count: 1K
Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)
Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.
He doesn't care.
Because he doesn't care...
When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.
Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.
"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.
But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.
At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.
"So you're chill?" you ask.
"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.
"You're okay with this," you amend.
Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.
"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.
It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.
But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.
"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."
"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."
"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.
You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.
Frenchie eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.
Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.
"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.
Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.
You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.
...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.
After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.
"You okay?" you ask knowingly.
"Just fine," he deadpans.
"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"
Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"
"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."
Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."
You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.
Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.
"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.
You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.
Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.
It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.
Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.
"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.
"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."
Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.
Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.
"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.
"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."
You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.
"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.
He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.
Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.
AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
SB Tag List (Part 1):
@melancholictearz @spnwoman @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions
@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky
@teehxk @midnightmadwoman @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem
@deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees
@xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley
@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007
@wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105
@liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @tmb510
@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waynes-multiverse
#Imagine: Ben getting jealous#reader request#Soldier Boy imagine#soldier boy x reader#Frenchie#soldier boy#the boys#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x you#the boys tv#the boys amazon#soldier boy fanfiction#jensen ackles characters#jensen ackles#jealousy#hint of spice#zepskies writes
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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?
My dumbass. Let’s get focus on the shirtless picture of Sylvester Stallone
#bad batch hunter#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch#my bad 💀#I know now#Star Wars#sylvester stallone#Rambo#idk why I feel bad for not knowing but I do 😜#tbb hunter#space Rambo#crosshair bad batch#tech bad batch#the bad batch wrecker#tbb echo#echo the bad batch#STOP ATTACKING MEEEE#im too late to the party am I still welcome#forgive me for me for joining too late🙏🏽
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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 😼
— 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.
steve tags; @officerrrfriendly, @hazydespair, @halflifejess, @keerygal, @queercodedcharacter, @lavendermunson, @whisperingwillowxox, @alltoomay, @aliensufo
some moots - message if you’d like to be untagged!; @bimbobaggins69, @reidsbtch, @southerngothicchic, @s6raphic, @meet-me-backstage, @yourfavoritewitchbitch, @thecreelhouse, @stevesxyellowxsweater, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @strangerstilinski, @readbydayana, @rosebudsgarden
— petition to tell biden and harris to comply with the icj’s ruling and provisional measures here if you’re a us citizen. so far they’ve sent 47,074 letters out of the goal of 51,200!
— @stveharringtn 2024
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#cherry writes ✿#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#joe keery x reader
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