#john rambo x reader

[issdisgrace]

Can’t express enough how in love I am with 80s/90s Sylvester Stallone

[rambosgirl]

Rambo getting a forehead/scalp massage, and dozing off afterwards. That’s all.

I'm pretty sure this is the same person so i'M COMBINING THEM

The fire flickered, casting orange light onto the trees surrounding you. It was barely more than embers now but it still provided a sliver of warmth against the cold night air. You sat cross-legged, listening for any sign of movement beyond the brush. He was out there somewhere, scouting ahead for the mission tomorrow. You’d volunteered to go, but he’d given you that look – the one that meant no arguments. So, here you waited.

Rambo finally emerged from the dark, his movements steady and controlled as always, but you could see the tension winding through his body like a coiled wire. His shoulders tight, his jaw locked.

“You okay?” you asked, keeping your voice quiet. “You look kinda tense.”

“Fine,” he muttered, not even sparing you a glance as he sank to the ground near you. You let it go for a minute. The fire popped, filling the silence while both of you stared into the flames. 

You stole occasional glances at him, trying to be subtle as you assessed him, but the way his eyes flicked to yours at your last attempt, sharp with a clear ‘knock it off’ expression, told you that you were being painfully obvious. 

You tilted your head, deciding to take the risk of this man ripping you apart. “I can see your neck veins popping,” you quietly tested. 

His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly showing his annoyance growing. “Said I’m fine.” 

“Mm-hm.” You shifted closer to him, resting your elbows on your knees. “You need to relax, soldier.”

His expression hardened as he looked down at you. “Drop it,” he growled.

“Here, let me just –”

Before you could reach him, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist. Not rough, but firm. Like a silent warning.

Your breath hitched.

His eyes, hardened but exhausted, locked onto yours. The usual guarded intensity was there, but something flickered beneath it. Hesitation. 

Your eyes, playful at first, softened, your teasing smirk falling, shifting into a quieter, more understanding expression. You didn’t pull away, but didn’t push him further than you already did. You just held his stare, not challenging, but soft, and steady like his. 

The space between you filled with unspoken tension, like a live wire humming in the air. For the first time since you met him, you could almost see a crack forming in the walls he’d built, one just wide enough for you to slip through.

“Trust me,” you whispered.

His fingers lingered a second longer, the calloused warmth of his palm pressing against your skin. Exhaling through his nose, he released you.

You moved behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders. The knots in the muscle beneath your fingers were solid as rock. You pressed in, working the tension slowly, deliberately.

“You won’t be able to survive without me after you experience this,” you gently teased.

Rambo didn’t respond. But as you worked, you could feel his breathing change, just slightly. The stiffness in his shoulders eased as your hands moved lower, kneading out the strain built up from too many days spent in survival mode.

Once the tension eased from his back, you moved to his scalp, burying your hands into his dark hair and repeating your process. 

Minutes passed. After you got your nails involved, he melted into your touch – something you never thought you’d see. His eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked at peace.

You smiled to yourself. “I’ll take first watch,” you murmured. “Get some rest, Rambo.”

He didn’t argue this time, instead letting himself sink further into the moment, into your touch, as he finally allowed sleep to take over.

[sirmidezz]

GUYZ GUYZ YALL SHOULD DEF DRAW UR FAVS LIKE THISSSS!

[one-boring-person]

Gabrielle's Friend (Part Two)

John Rambo (Last Blood) x reader (platonic)

Warnings: mention of a bad childhood

Context: John has told Gabrielle about the reader's situation, and she's not happy.

Uploading this because I have not had time to write anything decent, so have a fic I never actually thought about uploading😅

Masterlist

The tension in the air is thick, nearly suffocating as we sit there in silence, my confusion and curiosity mounting as Gabrielle continues to drive, seemingly upset by something. It's been a good ten minutes of this now: neither of us talking, not even looking at each other. I have no idea what changed, but something is up. 

Eventually, I feel my curiosity come to a head.

"Gabrielle, what's wrong? You've been cold ever since you picked me up." I finally ask, looking over at her.

She glances at me, eyes betraying her worry and concern, as well as some hurt, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. After a moment, she replies.

"Are we close, (Y/n)? Do you trust me?" 

Her questions stump me, my head cocking in confusion.

"Yeah, of course we are. I'd trust you with my life." I respond, thinking the answer is obvious - she does have my full trust, despite the secrets I've kept from her.

"And we'd tell each other anything? Right?" She continues, swallowing.

"Yeah, of course." I agree, more hesitantly this time, catching on now.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were sleeping on the streets?" 

And there it is. The one topic I had hoped would never be discussed between us.

Sighing, I look down at my lap, my fingers starting to fumble with one another, picking at the chapped skin, my body tense now.

"It's not a big deal." I murmur, knowing she won't let it go if I don't answer.

"Not a big deal?! (Y/n)l, you've been sleeping in the freezing cold every night for months! And you can't have been eating very well either! It's a very big deal!" Gabrielle exclaims, grip tight on the steering wheel.

"It's not that bad! I'm fine!" I try to protest, only to be cut off by her.

"No, (Y/n), you're not fine! You never told me your foster parents kicked you out! I thought everything was ok!" She argues, taking a breath, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are. You're the best friend I could ever have hoped for, and so I didn't want to tell you, so that I wouldn't worry you. I'm fine, honestly. It's not so bad when you get used to it." I reason with her, looking over at her.

"(Y/n), I could have helped you sooner! You're my friend, and that has to mean something!" She sighs again, looking down momentarily, "I just wish you told me."

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle. I didn't want to worry you." I apologise sincerely, keeping my eyes trained on her.

"I guess. Have you got all your stuff with you?" She asks me, glancing back at my rucksack, which I have at my feet.

"Yeah, why?" I lift an eyebrow.

"Good, because you're gonna come live with us."

I double take.

"Pardon?"

"You're gonna stay with us, (Y/n). Mum and Uncle John are ok with it." Gabrielle frowns a little, "Actually, it was Uncle John who suggested it. I think he wants you to work for him, too. With the horses."

Blinking, I sit back, left speechless by the offer, the kindness shown by my friend unbelievable to me.

"You...he...you actually…" I stammer, struggling to find the words.

"Yeah. He told me about your situation." She shakes her head, "I can't believe you told him and not me."

"I didn't actually mean to." I laugh nervously, still reeling from her previous words.

"Still." She smiles at me, laughing a little.

We drive for another ten minutes, during which time I thank her profusely for the help, eternally grateful to her and her family for offering to take me in, and potentially offer me a job on top. The ranch is cast in relative darkness as we arrive, the only light flowing out from the doors of the house in the middle, where two figures are visible, sat on the veranda. As we near, they stand, coming to greet us as Gabrielle parks the car.

Grabbing my stuff, I bite my lip, nervous now, hesitating before I open the door, taking a deep breath to steady my suddenly racing heart. Naturally, Gabrielle notices my hesitance, reaching out to place a hand on my arm momentarily, goosebumps spreading across my skin where she touches me, climbing out of the car after a moment, leaving me to do the same. Gingerly, I swing open the door and get out, lifting my rucksack onto my shoulder, lingering behind my friend as she goes to her family, watching with a familiar sense of envy as she embraces both Maria and John. Chewing my lip, I adjust my grip on my bag and step into the light, unsure of what to say or do, staying quiet as they greet each other, suddenly finding myself held in a hard stare as John looks over at me. 

Swallowing, I try to form a smile, only for it to fall flat as my nerves get the better of me, his practiced gaze not doing anything to ease this until his own lips quirk up into a gentle grin. I have to fight back my look of surprise, having very rarely seen him smile, and having never had it directed at me, trying to regain some composure as Gabrielle suddenly gestures for me to come closer. Hesitantly, I do so, hopelessly aware now of my dishevelled, dirty appearance, the weeks of sleeping rough having had an effect on me that I'd rather they couldn't see.

"(Y/n), you should've told us sooner! You're Gabrielle's friend, we could've helped!" Maria says to me, beaming at me as she comes nearer, pulling me into an unexpected embrace; the woman has always been fond of me, but this is a first.

"I'm sorry, Maria, I just didn't want to cause any unnecessary worry or problems." I apologise, returning the hug briefly, knowing how my heart throbs from finally recovering some form of affection, "I feel terrible taking your offer, even now."

"But why? You know you're always welcome here." She continues, leading me up onto the veranda, where we stop to face John.

"I know. It just feels like way too much to ask for, and I don't deserve the kindness you're offering me." I reply, looking down at my feet in embarrassment.

"Psh, of course you do." Maria waves me off, "Come on, let's get you something to eat. You've met John before, haven't you?"

Nodding, I send the older man a small smile.

"Briefly." I extend my hand, "Thank you for helping me out, sir."

After a moment, John takes my hand in his, his rough skin rubbing over my own chapped palms, dark eyes boring into mine.

"Call me John. And don't worry about it. I'm no stranger to your situation." He shakes my hand, his grip tight around mine, a smile playing at his lips, "Welcome to the family."

[kawaiigirly21]

Come on!! You CANNOT tell me I'm the only one who thinks this man is FINE!! THE THINGS IF LET HIM DO TO ME!!

Ugh might make a story about Rambo. Don't know yet

[multifandomthoughts]

Characters most likely to take on a food challenge

Luffy

You introduced him to the concept of a food challenge, and the guys’ eyes went wide. He loves any manner of food, and you’re telling him he can eat something, win money and or a t-shirt? Sign him up.

Nami and the rest of the crew love it as a way of earning good money from attempting these challenges, as well as watching the reactions on other patron’s faces. It’s priceless.

You on the other hand, like seeing Luffy’s reaction when he has to eat something extremely spicy. It’s not that he can’t do it, it’s that his reaction is just hilarious.

Eventually some of the restaurants begin to catch onto the scheme and start banning Luffy from attempting these challenges. They know he’s going to win and that they’re just going to lose money automatically.

Majima

Oh dear lord help anyone who has to serve him a food challenge. If he loses he’s going to have a bit of an angry fit and probably threaten some of the employees.

If the employee in question knows of his reputation, they’re more likely to subtly make it easier for him to reduce chances of them getting chewed out.

Is surprisingly bad with spice. He hypes himself up as being really really good at tolerating hot stuff, but basically cries like a baby after just a little bit of heat.

Forcibly drags Kiryu along with him. Sometimes when the contest requires more than one person, he practically begs him to join in. If it’s not a spice related one, more often than not, Kiryu relents.

John Rambo

He’s eaten almost everything there is to imagine to survive. So when you show him the concept of a food challenge, where you have to eat something tasty, he’s a little confused.

“This is supposed to be tough?” He thinks. For a military man, he usually has to eat a lot of food to maintain his muscular build. But eventually, the pace of the challenge gets to him.

He also thinks it’s normally a huge waste of food. But when he comes back from a mission you bet your ass he wants to try and do one. Most likely something with a lot of protein in it.

He’s pretty good at them, but usually goes for large portions rather than spice. He’d rather suffer less (in his own opinion.)

Arataki Itto

He’s one of the people who thinks that he can do one of these challenges and almost immediately fails. He’s also allergic to beans, so anything that remotely involves that is a big no.

He attempts some of the spicy ones first in an attempt to prove his mettle, but that goes down in flames fast. (Pun intended) He immediately goes for the water in an attempt to soothe his burning mouth, but quickly realizes his mistake before switching to dairy.

He’s quite a bit better at the large portions, being an oni and part of a gang, he has what seems to be an insatiable appetite. You are surprised at how fast he can devour some of the items.

No matter how good or bad he does, he looks to you to at least compliment him and tell him that he did a good job and that you’re proud of him. It feels his ego (in a good way) and it makes him feel special.

[astoriawritings]

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!

[bl1nded-crow]

I’m so glad someone posts fics of Rambo 😭

It’s like a desert out here 😔

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.

[kyamiia]

john rambo who swears by the books he won’t have a kid, that he can’t, that he’s not stable, and it’s such a scary thing to bring another life in this world that shares his dna. All the wrongs and flaws of his makes him terrified of creating life, what if his kid hates the traits they got from him ? what if they blame him ? he can’t help it, can’t help but to think of the worst.

It’s like that until the both of you finally head to town, a quiet snowy day in the small area. arms locked with one another as if the two of you are chain linked fences, pressed snugly to his side, bundled up with your jacket and scar entering the supermarket to grab groceries for the week.

In the produce section, you spot a woman, wrapped in her own jacket with a hand held basket in hand. her belly is round, her jacket accommodating around her stomach. you blink once, then twice, a pang of longing pulling at your heart. You knew John didn’t want kids, knew of his problems and why he was scared, but it didn’t stop the undeniable yearning of having a baby with the one you love most. It’s not hard to imagine a little baby boy or girl in your arms, admiring their small face and hands.

The ride home was quiet, not unusual considering the both of you enjoyed your shared silence. your hand found his, fingers intertwining before starting, “john ?” you call out, still not looking away from the window, focused on the dark green trees, “yeah ?” he responds, attentive as ever and it takes a few beating moments till you respond, “you would be the best father.” it slips past your lips like water, unable to hold it in as your hand keeps its gentle hold on his, tension in your digits as your heart clenches, ready to hear some self-deprecating dismissal he usually does.

But it never comes, it’s silent for a few seconds before he replies, “you’d be the best mother.” John gives, his eyes coming off the road for a second to look over at you, you can see the uncertainty in his eyes, not to what he said, but to the unsaid energy in the air between the two of you. he knows exactly where this is coming from, knows your unsaid desires of becoming a mother.

I edited this and lost everything so i’m not going to bother and just going to spit that at you. i want him sooooo bad 💔💔💔

[sunwukong-jabberwocky]

Sun Wukong

vs

Tyler Rake (Extraction) Jason Bourne (Bourne series) Ethan Hunt (MI series) John Rambo (Rambo series) Grey Man (Netflix) Jack Reacher (Amazon) James Silva (Mile 22) 007 (Daniel Craig) Aaron Hallan (The Hunted) Eggs (Kingsman series)

[rambosgirl]

I love your writing and you portray Rambo so well ty for all the content of him I am starving 💕💕💕🤝

If you want could I get hcs of John comforting reader on her period or how he'd deal with comforting her crying or hurt in general? Thank you sm I hope you have a nice day!! ❤🥺

Yesss I love this request! And thank you so much for the kind words and the support <333

this is just headcanons, if you want a full fic, let me know

Masterlist

John Rambo comforting you on your period HCs:

First off, John hates seeing you hurting, whether you're experiencing cramps or just stubbed your toe

He's seen too many people he cares about in pain, so it really does affect him and he wishes he could take your pain away more than anything

Speaking of pain, he knows it well and probably has a lot of training and experience with coping mechanisms for physical pain. He would probably teach you some when the body aches and cramps get really bad

But if we're being real here, he probably wouldn't know much about it at first, being around mostly men for so long. He knows the basics, but stuff like hormone levels and why you start crying out of nowhere is beyond him

But he's a fast learner if you take the time to tell him about it

He also learns how to comfort you in the way you want pretty quickly

You want snacks?? He's going to the grocery store and getting you your favorites. You want cuddles and a movie? He's a little stiff with cuddles at first but he's trying ok?? Want to use his hand as a heating pad? His answer is YES because he's a walking furnace and he knows it.

he WILL draw you a bath if you want it, he doesn't know what the candles and flower petals do, but it seems to make you happy, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

One of his love languages is 100% acts of service - he just loves doing domestic things for you <3

So he's really good about comforting you with the physical aspect of the WORST time of the month but with the emotional side? He just has less practice with that

because why are you crying again?

what do you mean you don't know?

He eventually just goes with it (he secretly finds it cute - not that you're feeling bad, just the way you look up at him when you admit you have no idea why you're sobbing)

Your brain and body works so differently than his, he actually finds it so interesting and beautiful, and he reminds you of this all the time

He definitely holds you when you cry and runs his hands through your hair, which is SUPER relaxing.

He takes your mood swings so well, he knows it's not anyone's fault (probably) it's just the hormones doing their thing

He's so respectful about it too - if you say you want company, he'll stay with you, if you say you want to be left alone, he'll leave you be, but he'll stay close enough so if you need anything from him he can help you

always reminds you that the pain will pass, he loves you, and that you are so so strong and you can make it through

[sirmidezz]

John Rambo x reader (platonic)

Prompt: John Rambo reminiscing over his childhood after witnessing some drunk dude yell at a cashier.

I honestly got impatient even though I barely posted my small essay not even 10 minutes before writing this, anyways come eat your food kids, ya get a full course in the span of one day.

Warnings: Trauma, PTSD, Child abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, Foul language.

It was grocery day, every once a month when John got out of the house. The only time John ever left the house, unless it was to go to work. (Y/N) stayed at home to clean, trusting that John would be ok in town by himself this time.

John glanced down at the list, reading over all he needed to get before grabbing a shopping cart and heading out to the aisles. John insisted that he would remember every thing (Y/N) said they needed, that he didn't need to carry around a list, but (Y/N) was persistent.

John managed to finish getting most of what the list said in a short amount of time, as he was about to grab his 3rd to last item he noticed some yelling from the front of the store where the cashier's were. Curiosity got the best of John and he went over to see what was going on.

Some drunk man was yelling at the cashier about the price range on his six pack of beer and jar of pickles, trying to negotiate with the cashier and getting livid when his attempt failed.

John rolled his eyes slightly and continued back to his shopping spree. Before johnny could fully leave the area the man let out a scream and chucked the jar of pickles to the floor while spitting out profanities.

Suddenly the hairs on John's arms stood up, he froze slightly, a small memory passing through his mind, one he thought he could forget since it had been so long, one that seemed to set him on edge, one just as painful as any other memory he dared not to reminisce over.

In the blink of an eye John found himself driving back to the house, forgetting the groceries. He didn't think he would remember those times, those times before Vietnam, when the war was inside his own house.

"You worthless piece of shit! Can't even sweep the floors right! Just like your damn mother!" Yelled reeves as he layed hits on a more younger John, knocking him to the floor. John covered his face, not wanting to show that he was crying. "Fucking sissy! Take the fucking hits like a man should! Your not a little bitch your old enough to grow a pair!"

The loud tapping on the window was enough to pull John from his thoughts. (Y/N) Looked into the car, worry all over their face as John managed to zone in and out of reality. "Johnny? Can you hear me?" (Y/N) Spoke softly, a very notable difference from what went on in John's mind.

John managed to get back to his bearings. He had been parked in the driveway of the house for about a good 10 minutes staring off into space. (Y/N) Went over to the passenger side and opened the door. John didn't say anything, he felt like a small kid again, he felt so weak.

After about a good moment of silence (Y/N) spoke up. "You have been parked out here for some time now, you wanna tell me what is going on?" John shook his head, a stray tear escaping his right eye. (Y/N) Understood, they knew it was best to not push it, especially when John was like this. They couldn't help but at least care for their roomie. "You want a hug?" John nodded this time, feeling safe enough to want to be held.

(Y/N) leaned over and wrapped their arms around John's shoulders. John held them back tightly, burying his face onto their shoulder. John let out silent sobs as (Y/N) consoled him. They just softly rubbed his back in a soothing manner, comforting John the best they could.

Soon John's sobs slowly turned into sniffs. He managed to pull back after some time, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry about the groceries," mumbled John. (Y/N) Softly let out a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it johnny, we have tomorrow. I'm just worried about you, ok? Nothing else bothers me." (Y/N) Then softly cupped John's face, rubbing their thumb slightly. "Let's go back inside, we still have the stuff to make spaghetti, would you like spaghetti?"

John smiled a bit, he couldn't help but feed off the positivity from (Y/N). "I would like spaghetti." Said John before the two got out of the car and went back inside.

As (Y/N) began boiling the water John smiled and looked over to them.

"Thank you (Y/N), for everything."

"Anytime johnny, anytime."

[morgandr]

Imagine:

Kissing your husband, Stallone goodbye as he heads off to work.

——————————————————————————-

(NOT MY GIF!)

(Sylvester Stallone X Reader)

——————————————————————————-

(TAGS)

[multifandomthoughts]

John Rambo getting a tan line from his dog tags send tweet

[astoriawritings]

In search of a beta reader

Hello beautiful people, hello. So I know I don't post much and everything but I still write. And I happen to be in need of a beta who can stick around for a while 😬

Why? Because I feel like my improvement has only got this far. When drawing, I usually ask for criticism a few of my friends. A different pair of eyes can bring out the flaws in your work and direct you to the path that leads to improvement. Same goes for writing. I wish to improve but I know my work is flawed and I need somebody to point out the flaws so I can polish them.

Fandoms. I am mainly writing for two fandoms at the moment-Green Day and David Bowie with all of his personas. In my drafts, there are also a few Rambo fics and one or two original works.

Tags. I write angst. I write about depression and heavy, disturbing topics such as domestic abuse, to give one example. But I also write fluff :D And fluffy hurt/comfort :D And roses and rainbows :D Jokes aside, I will only send whatever you are comfortable with. I also keep a detailed trigger warning list at the start of every fic. Backing out from reading something is fine by me. Both the angst and fluff have the same mistakes so receiving feedback on either will help me out a ton. You can choose what to read :)

Word count. Ah. I’d say my range is from 800 to 2000, the average being 1000-1200.

Amount of fics. It takes me months to get through with editing my fics… Best I can do is two-three fics a year, all oneshots. I have given up writing longer works.

Time. And because of my writing schedule and my disdain for editing, I am looking for someone willing to stick around for a little longer. As you see, I will not be overwhelming you with fics. I currently have 20 drafts, 4 of which are almost edited. I can’t say it’s much.

If you are interested after all of my useless ramblings, please comment below and we will work something out. Thanks in advance.

[radioactivatedspider]

Maternity Leave

Main Masterlist Big Sky Masterlist

My Wattpad📖

Radio's Café☆ - my official discord server!

Want to be added to my taglist? Just a few clicks away! -> Taglist Form

Pairings; Beau Arlen x pregnant wife!reader

Genre; action-comedy, domestic humor, light drama

Warnings; gunfire, injury(minor gunshot graze), mild language, comedy in high-stress situations

Summary: Beau's pregnant wife gets grazed by a bullet and finally agrees to maternity leave—much to his panicked relief.

573 words

Beau Arlen had exactly three rules when it came to his very pregnant wife joining him on field assignments:

1. No running.

2. No ducking behind things.

3. No getting shot at.

She broke all three before noon.

The morning had started out normal enough—coffee, some hormonal tears over a cereal commercial, a quiet drive into the canyon to follow up on a tip about illegal guns being run through an old trailer park. It was supposed to be low-risk. In-and-out. Look, ask questions, go home, kick his boots off, and rub cocoa butter on her stomach while she fake-slept through Jeopardy.

But of course, of course, something had to go sideways the moment he turned his back.

“I told you to stay in the car!” Beau barked as she crouched next to him behind his cruiser, bullets zipping past like angry bees.

“And I told you I’m not made of glass!” she snapped, wincing slightly as she pressed a hand to her side. “It’s just a graze.”

“Graze?!” he squawked, nearly breaking his neck trying to check for damage. “You were shot. That’s a bullet wound! That's a literal gunshot wound! You're growing a human and you just took a round like you're John McClane!”

“I am barely bleeding.”

“You have blood! That’s one hundred percent more blood than I want coming out of you!”

She looked down at her side. It did sting. But in her defense, the guy was a terrible shot, and she’d seen worse paper cuts from assembling nursery furniture.

Beau was already pulling out supplies—bandages, hand sanitizer, a bottle of water, a protein bar, and possibly a defibrillator. “You are going home. You are going home and sitting on the couch with your feet up and watching Love It or List It until your due date. Do you understand me?”

“I can’t just sit around and knit until this baby shows up. I’m still a federal agent.”

“You’re an adorable federal agent with a fetal sidekick. You should be nesting. You should be comparing crib sheets and arguing about paint swatches. Not dodging bullets!”

She shrugged. “Well, I did bring a color palette. It’s in the glove box.”

Beau stared at her.

Then he stared at the bullet hole in the truck behind her.

Then back to her.

“I swear to God, woman, I love you so much it makes my teeth hurt, but I am this close to zip-tying you to a La-Z-Boy.”

She gave him a tired, sheepish smile. “Okay, okay. I think I’ll take that maternity leave now.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning back against the truck with a groan. “Bullets are nature’s way of telling you to take a damn nap.”

Beau let out a long, strangled sigh, then gently helped her up. “Thank you. And after this baby’s born, we’re gonna sit down and have a long conversation about career boundaries and the appropriate time to start working from home.”

“Sure,” she said, smirking. “Right after I teach our kid how to shoot straight.”

Beau froze. “What?”

Jenny's voice came through the radio: “Arlen? Suspect’s in custody. We’re clear.”

He lifted the mic. “Copy that. Also, bring the first-aid kit and maybe a tranquilizer dart. I’m gonna need one.”

His wife patted his chest with exaggerated sympathy. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just didn’t know I was marrying Rambo with a baby bump.”

Taglist: @star-yawnznn