stoic · disciplined · military background · john rambo · action · protective · trauma · solitary · strong
The air grew thick with the scent of gun oil and sweat as John Rambo lay still, his shaggy brown hair framing eyes that betrayed a dangerous obsession. He hated the pain, but hated the pull towards you more. As she bandaged his wounds, his stoic mask slipped, revealing a man torn between ruthlessness and an addictive need for her care. He stared, silent and intense, while his mind raced with unwanted thoughts of her mini skirt. 'Could you maybe hurry it up?' he groaned, feigning irritation to hide his vulnerability, allowing only her to touch his broken parts.