#John Milas
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If you need proof that you can make anything â yes, even early 2010s Nicki Minaj verses â supremely unsettling and deeply scary if you write it the right way, look no further than The Militia House by John Milas.
#in which i read#the militia house#john milas#sometimes reading a book isn't enough; i need to shred it with my teeth and ingest it#i mean it's gonna live rent-free in my head from this day on i might as well eat it and seal the deal!#but holy shit. HOLY SHIT#i had a little chuckle at the beginning when i saw the two epigraphs were#1) quote from former us soldier in afghanistan (which i expected)#2) nicki minaj's verse on ''fuck the bullshit'' (which i did NOT)#and i was like ''okay i'm intrigued let's see what the connection is''#and it's a slow burn! but it gets there eventually and good GOD#i can't say anything because that would involve spoilers BUT#i love. a good creeping sense of Wrongness in horror fiction#that just Builds until it's impossible to write off or ignore#also it's tricky for me to get invested in 1st person pov fiction unless the author REALLY puts in the work#of making me feel like i truly am inside a different person's head and thinking in a different pattern#and this deLIVERED
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The Militia House by John Milas
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Hitchin' a ride
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
Part 1 of Are You Going My Way?
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader Words: 7k Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
It gets dark early in winter in East Anglia. By the time you leave the ward, itâs pitch dark despite it barely being past dinner time. Huddled in your dark blue wool cape, you trudge along the side of the road, holding a small torch to light your way. Thereâs a cold, biting wind tonight, and it feels like itâs going through every layer youâre wearing, straight through your bones. Breath shuddering, you pick up your pace, the gravel barrier between the road and the grass crunching under your standard-issue brown boots. The faster you get back to the nurseâs barracks, the faster youâre out of this wind and soaking your sore feet and cold toes.
Thorpe Abbots sprawls strangely, but you usually donât mind. The quiet walk at the end of the long shifts in the operating room, rounds on the intensive care ward, cleaning, and inventory is your moment of solace. A moment where you can finally let the smile fall off your face, where you can grit out the curses you've bitten back all day, the crinkle in time when you are allowing the tears to well up and drip down your face silently.
There is no textbook or training to prepare you for the horrific reality. Torn flesh, burns, and the blood. The fear and agony. The pained screaming. The blind panic.
You have never felt more that you are where you need to be, yet you are so completely and utterly powerless.
A light catches your eye, reflecting on the trees around you in a ghostly flicker. Glancing over your shoulder, the light floats through the darkness, gliding towards you. The soft ding of a bicycle bell pulls you out of your reverie. Turning fully, the light casting off your torch finally illuminates the figure on the bicycle.Â
âMajor Egan,â You greet him, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. He has no reason to be here. Thereâs nothing down this road but the building with the nursesâ quarters. Itâs not the first time youâve encountered Major Egan somewhere he has no reason to be. But you, as an army nurse and merely a first lieutenant, are not about to question him on that.
âYou shouldnât be walking here alone at night, lieutenant,â He tells you, stopping next to you. You stop, too, taking a good look at himâbecause why wouldnât youâas he gets off his bike.Â
A little too friendly, a little too forward. His bright, sharp blue eyes are contrasted by luscious dark curls and that devilish smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, and moving with a confident grace, he is hard to miss. And if you were to somehow overlook him in a crowd, he commands, demands, attention. There is something dangerously magnetic about him, something electric.
You best keep your distance.
âDonât worry about me, please, Major,â You reply politely. âItâs not late, and I know the way,âÂ
âAre you done for today?â He asks conversationally, smiling, his eyes crinkling happily. The tips of his ears are red from the cold. In the middle of a quiet road, in the dark, in freezing temperatures, itâs an odd place for polite conversation.
âYes, Iâm heading back to my quarters,â You smile. âLong day,â You add, hoping to cut the conversation short, desperately trying to suppress the full body shiver from the cold. You notice with some envy that Major Egan seems wonderfully unbothered by the biting wind in his sheepskin jacket. You nod at him, turning back in the direction you had been heading, gingerly taking a step. Hopefully, he gets the hint.
âI could give you a ride,âÂ
You stop dead in your tracks, looking back at him wide-eyed.Â
âIâm heading in the same direction, so youâd get there quicker,â He beams at you with that brilliant smile, patting the carrier at the back of the bike. Instinctively, you start shaking your head, trying to keep yourself from vocalizing your thoughts.
Youâd be out of the wind. Youâd be in the warm faster. Youâd have to get close to Major Egan and hold on to him. You bet that that sheepskin jacket is nice and warm. You bet Major Egan is nice and warm.
âIsnât that the bike you almost lost an eye for?â Your sense of self-preservation is stronger, has to be stronger, than any magnetic force or joking flirtation from Major John Egan.
���Almost?â He seems surprised you brought it up but recovers quickly. âI remember it differently â it was a bullseye, not my eye,âÂ
He looks at you like heâs expecting you to laugh with him, but you just blink in disbelief. Thatâs an awful joke. For a mere second, in the reflected light of your torch, you see his smile falterâheâs smart; he knew that was a dud. You purse your lips.
âI suppose I like my rides without stories of near-eye trauma attached,â You muse. Itâs such a flimsy excuse. Â
âDo you think itâs bad luck?â Itâs a chillingly honest question, and all cheer has suddenly disappeared from his voice. You pause to think. It hadnât really occurred to you that Major Egan might be a particularly superstitious man; somehow, he didnât seem the type. But in these times, superstition creeps up on even the most staunch rationalists.
âLuck has nothing to do with it, Major,â you finally admit, eyeing him carefully. He frowns, suddenly unsure of the gravity of the conversation through his own too-candid question. âI would just hate to encourage any of that sort of behavior,â You add lightly.
âSo, you would have accepted if I had a different bike?â He sounds on the precipice of hopeful, but the laughter in his voice is evident again. He changes so quickly and bounces back from everything in a mere second â itâs all a joke, after all. Heâll do you a favor and then jokingly ask for a kiss. And then maybe another. And then heâll move on to whatever or whoever catches his eye next.Â
You wrinkle your nose. No. Youâre not interested, you repeat to yourself. If you were, you might as well have stayed at home and practiced your good graces at dinner parties. You joined the Army Nurse Corps because you wanted to do something, mean something.
âIâm going now,â You clench your jaw to stop your teeth from clattering. âGood night, Major Egan,â
âSuit yourself, lieutenant,â He grins, undeterred, as he watches you turn on your heel, huddling into yourself to protect yourself from the wind. Truthfully, Bucky wasnât expecting that you would accept his offer. If anything, he wanted to see how youâd react: your replies are always calm and composed, so very proper, but you have a bad poker face. From the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance to how the corner of your mouth sometimes threatens to pull into a smile at his jokes. And Bucky notices that your gaze lingers just slightly longer than would be polite, although nothing coming out of your mouth would corroborate that. Itâs adorable. Itâs intriguing. And he knows you wonât make it easy on him.
But thatâs not why he keeps thinking about you. Thatâs not why he goes out of his way to look for you.
You suddenly took root in his thoughts only a few weeks back. It had been a bad day. Worse than Bucky had seen in a while, there had been many bad days lately.Â
Being Air Exec has some perks, mostly that other people donât really question why heâs wandering the halls of the infirmary at the dead of night. In the hallway, set up on provisional cots, medics are asleep, still fully dressed. They just collapsed on the first soft spot the moment they could. He can hardly blame them.
His footsteps echo through the dark rooms. The wounded men in the beds are fast asleep â itâs eerily quiet except for the occasional snore.Â
Heâs not sure why heâs here. Maybe itâs to assuage some of the guilt heâs feeling â heâs fine after all. He didnât go up with them, after all. Maybe because he needs to see the pain with his own eyes, afraid that heâll forget.
The doctor on duty is doing rounds, his desk empty, when Bucky slips through the swinging double doors to where the heaviest casualties are put up. The air in the room feels differentâheavier. Itâs not quietâlabored breathing, raspy, sometimes gurgling, groans of pain in artificial sleep. He really shouldnât be here.Â
All beds are full.
Itâs been a really bad day.
Itâs there that he notices you first: sitting on the floor, arms crossed and tucked up against yourself, head leaning against the wall, and legs bent at an uncomfortable angle. In the first second, he thinks someone fell out of their bed. But as Bucky gets closer, he recognizes you â the seersucker cotton dress, the matching cap now crumpled and skewed on your head, and the clearly scuffed and dirty white oxfords. You are one of the OR nurses.
Heâs seen you around, just in passing. In chaos between casualties, just from the corner of his eye. Sometimes, you showed up at dances or parties, and Bucky had noticed your cute laugh from across the room, the way your entire face lit up when you smiled. And he knows heâs not the only one who has noticed the delightful sway of your hips as you walk, evident even through your dress uniform. But you made damn sure to make yourself unavailable by sticking with your girlfriends. Heâs never seen you accept a drink or dance with someone.
Your mouth is slightly open as you breathe deeply, your form cast in the pale moonlight peeking through the sides of the blinds. Bucky wouldnât let a woman sleep on the floor in normal circumstances, but in this case, waking you up would be cruel â there isnât a bed free in the whole hospital. And even bad sleep is better than no sleep.
He moves past you carefully, mentally putting names to all the men here. Those that made it. Thatâs a good thing, right? They made it. Bucky doesnât recognize the figure moaning in pain louder and louder, hands desperately grasping at the neatly tucked-in covers â his entire head is covered with a thick layer of white bandages, not even leaving a slit for his eyes, just a small opening for his mouth. He hesitates before his curiosity takes over and moves by the side of the bed to look closer. Itâs a good thing, right?
He should do something to help him.
Bucky is so lost in thought that he doesnât notice you brushing past him. He almost jumps out of his skin when your torch suddenly clicks on at the foot of the bed. You are bleary-eyed, blinking rapidly as your eyes fly over the patient chart.Â
âHe is due for a new round of pain medication,â You state softly, voice still thick with sleep, before looking up at Bucky. âMajor,â is all you say in acknowledgment of him.
âNurseâlieutenant,â He mumbles in reply, increasingly on edge from the patientâs distress. âWhat are youââ Before he can start running his mouth in confused ramble, you trust the torch at him.
âHold this, please, Major,â Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the noises easily in its steadiness and calmness. The small torch is now in his hand, your fingers brushing over his palm unintentionally as you move through the dark. Itâs like a small spark burned the spot where your fingertip touches his skin. âUp, please,â
Bucky complies, shining the light from a high angle as you prepare a syringe. You look exhausted, but nothing in your movement betrays that. Clinical, precise, and so calm. He watches you speak softly to your patient, your free hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, a syringe poised in the other. But the patient is struggling harder, too panicked, and in too much pain.Â
It happens in a split second.
The patient sits up so quickly that Bucky almost stumbles back in surprise. The patient now has an iron grip on your lower arm, white knuckles, moving in a blind frenzy, pulling you clean off your feet, half over the bed. You yelp in as much surprise as in pain as your knee collides with the metal bed frame. Your face is contorted in pain as you struggle back, trying to regain your footing.Â
âItâs okay, Iâm here to help you,â You keep repeating patiently. Never let them know you are scared: they canât calm down if you are not in control.
Your voice doesnât waver one bit. Bucky clenches the small torch between his teeth, trying to free your arm from the patientâs grip.Â
âN- noâ You breathe, clearly in pain now. âPlease, Major, just help me to hold him still,âÂ
You are still holding the syringe, poised to strike. Grabbing the patient by the shoulder and forcing him back against the pillow. In the struggle, the torch falls from his mouth. It clatters on the tile floor and rolls away. He is so focused on his task that itâs almost by surprise when the struggle ends within a few seconds, and the patient drifts off again. He never saw you give the injection.
You both stand there, breathing heavily. Bucky bends down to retrieve the torch from the floor. Itâs still shining, although it flickers uncertainly with every move. When he straightens back up, he catches you looking at your arm, the brown sleeve of your vest rolled up messily. When you realize heâs looking at you, you pull the sleeve back down and busy yourself tucking the patient back in. But Bucky has seen the angry red fingerprints imprinted on your forearm.
âThank you, Major Egan,â Not a quiver in your tone, although your breathing has barely slowed down. âItâs probably best you go now,âÂ
âAre you alright?â He cannot help but ask, gaze traveling to your arm. He canât help but notice you must have been issued a vest a size up, as the sleeves are a bit too long on you. Itâs adorable.
âPlease donât worry about me,â You reply, smiling, but itâs clearly a deflection. The corners of your mouth are quirked up, but your eyes just spell tired. âYou should try to get some rest, Major. The sun will be up soon,â
There is a certain sense of irony in you telling him that. At least he has a bed to go to, you think wryly. You start walking towards the ward exit, signaling he should follow you.Â
âWill you be okay here by yourself, lieutenant?â Itâs not his place to worry about you, but you are just⌠you. And these men are in pain, scared, and -
âThe doctor will be back from his rounds soon,â Your soft voice pulls Bucky from his thoughts. You stand at the door, holding it open for him. If he hadnât just seen that chaos happen, he would have never guessed by your demeanor anything happened. As he passes you, you salute him. He salutes you back, gazing over to you. The tips of your fingers are shaking.Â
The thought is sudden and overwhelming: he wants to lace his fingers through yours, pull you against him, and hold you until you stop shaking.
âGoodnight, Major,â You whisper with a pointed look. You want him out of here so you can check on your throbbing knee and painful arm away from his prying eyes.
âGoodnight, lieutenant,â He replies, tearing his eyes away from you.
***
In early spring, it seems like the rain never stops, from semi-permanent drizzle to raindrops rhythmically ticking against the window pane to the torrential downpour you find yourself in now. The drab-colored trench coat is putting up a valiant fight to keep you dry.
Youâre holding your purse over your head but to no avail. The cold trickle of water from your sodden hair travels down your spine. Youâre trailing behind your friends, who are making good time through the storm. Water sloshes in your left boot, making it heavy, the drenched woolen sock rubbing painfully against your foot.Â
Then you hear it. The all too-happy ding of a bicycle bell.Â
You try to walk faster, gritting your teeth, but Major Egan has caught up with you in just seconds. You donât stop to greet him, just glancing over at him with narrowed eyes. Gracefully, he jumps off the bike, matching your pace by foot easily. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead, his cap sagging under the weight of the water it must have absorbed. He shouldnât look this good, sopping wet, especially when you feel so wretched.
âLieutenant, I could get you where you need to be a whole lot quicker,â he calls out.
âNo, thank you, Major,â Your tone is polite, but you keep walking, falling behind further and further from your friends as your left boot squelches with every step. You know he noticed.Â
âYouâre really not going to take me up on the offer? Even in this downpour?âÂ
âMost drops miss,â You canât keep the scowl off your face as you march on.Â
âYou are so unbelievably stubborn,â He laughs. You donât think youâre stubborn; you just donât like feeling like your hand is being forced.Â
âI donât need you to save me, Major.â You tell him evenly, finally stopping and turning to him. You know your friends noticed you stopping but probably figured they were doing you a favor and kept going.Â
Bucky regards you carefully â you look miserable. The curl has long been rained out of your hair; rivulets of water running down your face, dripping on the collar of your trench coat. The steep downturn of the corners of your mouth pretty much just seals the deal. But despite all the evidence, you would never admit youâre anything but fine.Â
âSave you?â He sounds incredulous. Like the thought never even crossed his mind.Â
You bite your lip â you might have said too much. But you are afraid that he might ask you for something if you owe Major Egan a favor. He will ask you for something. And you wonât be strong enough to tell him no maybe because you want him to ask. Who wouldnât?
Youâve seen him look at you from across the room before, and when you scrape together the courage to meet his gaze, itâs like electricity. Short, intense, and almost painful. And then he looks away, his attention turning so fleetingly. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
âForget it,â You mumble, clearly embarrassed. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you wish nothing about this moment was happening right now. When you peek through your lashes at Major Egan, you note he looks concerned.
âFor what itâs worth,â He clears his throat, not a trace of humor in his voice. âI never considered you to require saving, lieutenant.âÂ
You keep looking at him sharply, finally shaking your head. âYou have a funny way of showing it.âÂ
There is something deeply absurd about the whole conversation. Just tell him no. Just bid him goodnight and leave. Why are you even entertaining him with your feelings on this? And itâs clearly entertainment to him.
âIâm going to my quarters now, Major,â You state, feeling the need to be polite despite your increasingly impolite feelings about the situation. âAnd youâre going in the wrong direction,â You add pointedly as you start walking again. It feels like you have an entire puddle in your boot now.
âSo what would you prefer, lieutenant? A more classic approach?â That devastatingly handsome grin is back on his face again as he walks beside you. How is that what he took from your last statement? Your shoulders sag when you feel the butterflies in your stomach. âAt the next dance, I buy you a drink and sweep you off your feet on the dance floor?âÂ
âI might be more agreeable when itâs not freezing or raining,â You sigh like itâs paining you to admit it. Maybe heâs imagining it, but Bucky likes to think he saw the shadow of a smile pass over your face as you say it, even though your voice is painfully neutral.Â
âIs that a yes?â Again, that hopeful edge.Â
âNo,â You reply curtly, but you feel bad the moment you say it because you see his smile fall â heâs staring at you somewhere between confusion and growing frustration. Itâs making you feel bad. A horrible little selfish part of you wants him to only smile at you. Major Egan could light up a room with that smile â he regularly does. The selfish little monster in you wants to be the reason that he smiles like that.Â
âAsk me again at the dance, Major,â You amend carefully.
The way his face breaks out in that broad, beaming smile makes you weak at the knees.Â
***
Bucky is on pins and needles tonight. Even Buck, usually so even-tempered, is getting irritated with him. Drumming his fingers on the bar, tapping his foot not to the beat of the music but to blow off some of the anxious energy. People are flittering in and out of the hall, but there is no sign of you yet. Heâs going through his whiskey too quickly, and itâs doing very little to calm his anticipation.
After an hour of only half-listening to the conversation going on around him, constantly glancing at his watch, he finally sees the pack of nurses come in. Buckyâs heart drops a little because you arenât with the group. Youâre always with that group. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he resolutely makes his way to the table now occupied by five gossiping nurses. All eyes are on him as he approaches.
âGood evening, ladies,â He smiles, eyes searching the table. All chairs are occupied â clearly, your friends arenât saving you a seat. A chorus of good evenings and giggles comes in reply.
âHow can we help you, Major Egan?â A blonde nurse asks, peering up through her lashes.
âIâm actually looking for my favorite nurse,â He replies easily, holding his smile despite feeling mildly annoyed. When he mentiones your name, another chorus of giggles.Â
âI thought I was your favorite nurse,â One of the girls pipes up. The girls burst out laughing.
âSheâs on the night shift,â An earnest, young-looking nurse cuts in, pushing up her glasses. Bucky doesnât really recognize her â she must be quite new. âI asked to switch shifts because I havenât been to a dance here before.â
âYou should have found someone from the afternoon shift,â the blonde nurse sighs in a bored tone. âThe poor girl is putting in a double shift now,â
âNo one else would switch with me,â The bespectacled nurse defends herself with a small voice.
Bucky should be annoyed. Did you scheme this out on purpose? You run so hot and cold between your lingering looks and thinly veiled barbs. But then again. Of course, you would switch shifts with the new girl out of kindness. You slept on the floor to stay close to those most needed care. Doc sang your praises in the officerâs mess regularly for staying late to finish inventory, covering in emergencies, and keeping the OR running smoothly. Kindly caring for everyone around you.
He should be annoyed. But instead, he feels jealous. Itâs a horrible feeling. But you cared more about the new girl than him? Is it really so bad that he wants your kind attention aimed at him? That he wants to be your choice? You wouldnât even give him a shot.Â
It just wonât do. But now, at least, he knows where to find you.
At the end of the dark hall, a faint light. A lone lamp on a lone desk, with a lone nurse sitting at it. You hear him coming, of course. Your bright eyes look straight at him as he emerges from the darkness. You are already getting up out of your chair, ready to greet him, notes and medical textbook forgotten on the desk.
âGood evening, Major Egan,â you greet him, your voice soft. Your gentle tone carries sweetly through the quiet hall. You didnât expect him to come find you. It feels far too serious, far too earnest. You havenât seen or spoken to Major Egan for over a week now, and for your own sake, you decide that he hadnât been seriousâthat you hadnât been serious. It was just banter.
Truthfully, you were slightly relieved the new girl asked you to switch shifts. But as you sat at the duty desk by yourself, blankly staring at the pages of your medical textbook, your stomach twisted painfully with regret.Â
âGood evening, lieutenant -â you cut him off with a sharp shush, tapping your index finger against your lips. You step a bit closer to him, voice a sweet whisper. âPlease keep it down,âÂ
A beat of silence as youâre both clearly uncomfortable in the strange situation you have suddenly found yourself in.
âHow can I help you, Major?â You whisper politely as your eyes nervously, guiltily, dart around the roomâanywhere but him. He looks sharp in his dress uniform. He smells nice. He clearly made an effort. And youâre standing here in your day-old hospital uniform. Self-consciously, you try to straighten the standard-issue white and brown stripe wrap-around dress.Â
âI came looking for my favorite nurse,â Bucky replies sincerely, eyes boring into yours.Â
âThen you must not be looking for me,â The words tumble out before you can stop yourself. Bucky nearly bursts out laughing at the pained look that crosses your face as you clamp your mouth shut.Â
âI was waiting for you to show up at the dance,â He says with that same heavy sincerity. His stance is casual, hands in pockets and shoulders relaxed. But the way he fidgets â tapping and shuffling his foot â as he waits for you to reply hints that he is not nearly as calm as heâd like to appear.
âI had to stay,â You reply, still avoiding his gaze. Itâs a half-truth. You could have said no. But the new girl seemed to want to go to the dance more badly than you did. It felt unfair. And you had convinced yourself quite thoroughly that Major Egan wouldnât care or notice anyway.
Another silence falls. Neither quite sure where to go from here.
âHow are the boys doing?â Bucky asks conversationally, reaching out to the large doors leading into the intensive care unit. On a whim, you grab his hand before he touches the handle, your fingers gently wrapping over the top of his large hand. He stills, and for a moment, you think heâll shake your hand off his. But instead, he waits in acceptance.
âIt wonât help you,â You whisper. It took you a while to figure out why Major Egan was in the hospital that night. When people spoke of him, they spoke of how much he cared for his men â a heavy burden to bear.
âHelp me?â His voice is suddenly loud. He is offended at the notion that heâs doing it for himself and offended that you called him out like that. He opens his mouth again to argue with you.
Startled by the volume, your brain misfires fully, and instead of replying, your free hand reaches out to his face, your index finger landing on his soft lips to silence him. He stares at you wide-eyed. You are sure you look as shocked as he does. You try to gather your thoughts quickly.
âI - I understand,â You implore him in an urgent whisper, finally looking at him. Bucky sees his own sorrow reflected in your eyes.Â
Sometimes, you can only wait. There is no next round of medicine; there is no operation that will help. Waiting for the body to do its work can be frustrating and maddeningly slow.
âBut there is nothing you can do now, so going in wonât help you or them,â You swallow. Why is your finger still on his lips, and why is he letting you do that? âThey need to rest. You need to rest.â
His fingers lace through yours as he steps closer. Itâs inappropriate how close he is standing to you. Itâs inappropriate how the tips of your fingers caress the seam of his lips. Itâs inappropriate how your hand has latched onto his, his thumb drawing lazy circles on the pulse point of your wrist.
âI donât need rest.â His voice is soft and close. The intimacy of his lips moving against your fingers is intense, each breath setting your nerve endings on fire. He leans into your touch, trailing from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. Finally, you look at him.
âThen what do you need?â Your question comes automatically. Always looking for how to help. Always so kind. He could melt into your soft touch, warm voice, and how you look at him so sweetly.
âI need to know when youâre done here so I can sweep you off your feet,â His eyes meet yours, keenly following your every move.Â
You want to take a step back and break the increasingly feverish connection, away from his oddly earnest confession, but Bucky pulls you closer with a small tug on your hand. Your head is swimming; your heart is hammering in your chest. You shouldnât entertain any of this, but it feels like your heart is pouring out of your mouth.
âMy shift ends at 0500,âÂ
Bucky grins at youânot in a teasing way, but with that infectious broad smileâthe one you cannot help but smile back. It gives you butterflies. Youâre smiling at him now, beautifully, genuinely. It feels like a victory to Bucky.
âIâll keep the party going if you promise me the last dance.â His voice is low and inviting; he is reeling you in further with every word.
âDonât torture everyone on my account, please,â You feebly try to inject some levity into the situation. You know yourself well enough: you are no match for John Egan and his attentions. From sparks across the room, now itâs like youâve touched the live wire, and the current has a hold on you. Thatâs why you always avoided him so. Â
âTorture? Darling, itâs a party,â He needles you gently, eyes glinting merrily. âOnly you would equate that to torture.âÂ
âMajor -,â âBucky,â He interjects. You blink at him, biting your lip.Â
âBucky, please,â The moment you utter his name, so beguilingly, so breathlessly, he presses your palm against his face fully, his hand covering yours. He needs you closer. The golden buttons of his jacket brush against the front of your dress. His lips press against the soft flesh of your hand as he studies your reaction. The hitch in your breath is embarrassingly loud to your ears.Â
âPlease, what?âÂ
âDonât torment me like this,â It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. And exactly as youâd expect, the admission of your weakness, the slightest chink in your armor, is an in for him.Â
âHow do I torment you, exactly?â His voice is so warm, so encouraging.Â
âYou take far too much pleasure in making fun of me, for one,â You try to play it off in a last-ditch attempt. But under his heated gaze, his breath brushing on the sensitive skin of your wrist, you falter. You frown before you utter in a small voice: âItâs not nice how you toy with me, Bucky, because itâs obvious that⌠that itâs just a joke to you, and your idea of a joke could get me dismissed, and sent home,â
You look down at your shoes, embarrassed. You want to pull away, but Bucky is not allowing you an inch of slack.
âItâs not a joke to me.â He sounds surprised. You look up at him, unable to keep the skepticism off your face. âIt wasnât a joke from that night I saw how calmly you handled that panicked patient, the moment you saluted me with those shaky fingers, and then every time you denied my help, you stubborn, stubborn girl,â His face is so close to yours now; a finger tracing down the side of your neck, down, just along the collar of your dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The way your hand rests on his cheek, you could pull him even closer if you wanted to. âIâve wanted to grab hold of you, wrap you around me-â
Footsteps. You pull back from Bucky with a jerky movement, who mercifully releases you immediately, stumbling back two steps, almost hitting the desk with your legs. Itâs strangely cold suddenly without his hands wrapped around yours, without him so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Blood is rushing in your ears. Bucky looks too collected, but to your relief, you spy a faint blush creeping up his neck.Â
So it wasnât just you.
Hands folded, you take another furtive step back behind the desk, making sure thereâs a respectable distance between you as the doctor on duty turns the corner. Bucky and the doctor start talking in low voices, but you are not listening. In your mind, you keep returning to his words, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.Â
That night on the ward. That was the first time you spoke and saw each other in more than passing. Thatâs when Bucky suddenly formed this habit of popping in places he had no business of being. Places you happened to frequent. You really hadnât been vain enough to consider that the common denominator in those situations was you. It had to be a coincidence that he had just turned into a joke.Â
âNurse,â The doctor turns to you, handing you his clipboard. You nearly jump out of your skin, being so lost in thought. âPlease update the log,â
âYes, doctor,â You nod, trying not to look as flustered as you feel. The men start leaving, still talking.Â
âGood night, lieutenant,â Bucky turns to you, unable to keep the cocky smile off his face. Before he turns, he winks at you. It makes your knees so weak you nearly collapse back into your chair. Covering your face with your hands, you try to focus, but the smile wonât come off your face.
Seven more hours until your shift ends.
***
Itâs a misty summer morning, dew covering every inch. The sun is just breaking through the clouds, and itâs promising to be a beautiful day.
When you leave the infirmary, you blink against the early morning sun. Itâs still so early that few people are around. You hesitate. Surely, the party is not still going on. You wouldnât put it past Bucky to actually do it. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, youâre unsure if you could even stay on your feet long enough for a dance. Â
Luckily, you donât have to make a choice.Â
The sound of the bicycle bell makes you smile now. Buckyâs looking remarkably fresh and well-rested. The party clearly didnât go that far into the night. He dressed for duty, his signature sheepskin jacket hanging open.
âAre you going my way, darling?âÂ
You purse your lips because youâre fighting to keep the smile off your tired face. You donât stand a chance. You dart over to him like you are pulled by a magnetic force, the live current arching between you.
Sliding onto the back of the bike, you grab handfuls of the thick sheepskin to steady yourself, trying to find your equilibrium. Buckyâs large, warm hands encircle your wrists and easily pull your hands off his jacket. Instead, he gently nudges you forward by your arms, tucking them under the side of his jacket, wrapping your arms around his waist. The side of your face is resting against his back. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm, resting just under his sternum; you move along with his every breath.
âReady?â Bucky peers over his shoulder.Â
âHmâmh,â You hum in reply, face buried in the folds of Buckyâs jacket. âDrop me off before the last turn?â You mumble, gazing up at him pleadingly. âMatron will be awake and on the prowl by now,â
âDonât worry, darling,â His free hand wraps over yours, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. âIâm not going to get you into any trouble,â
âIâm holding you to that,â You yawn, wrapping yourself around him tighter. Youâre going to make the most of this moment â the quiet morning, the soft sheepskin, the smell of Buckyâs aftershave.Â
You drift in and out of sleep, even though the trip by bike is tortuously short. After almost twenty hours on shift, you should be allowed this comfort. Whining in protest as Bucky starts to unlatch your arms from him, you feel his chuckle as much as you hear it.Â
You slide off the back of the bike, ignoring where the metal was jabbing into your backside on the bumpy road, and rub your eyes, trying to get rid of the haze in your vision. A small yelp escapes you as Bucky tugs you against him by the tie at the waist of your wraparound seersucker dress. The bike lays forgotten in the grass by the side of the road. All the tension and anticipation from last night are suddenly back â you feel wide awake again.
Buckyâs fingers are resting lightly against your waist like he is testing the waters, slowly, gently guiding you closer to him until you are inches away from him. Automatically, your hands sneak back up his jacket, running up his sides to the front of his chest. He is so warm against the crisp morning air.Â
âAre you going to ask me for a kiss now?â It comes out almost naively as you look up at him. God, you hope he says yes.
âI promised not to get you into trouble,â He teases gently, grinning, inclining his face closer anyway, his lips just ghosting over the corner of your mouth. He is rewarded with a shuddering sigh from you â his grip on your waist tightens, prompting you to close the remaining distance between you.Â
âThis, of course, is perfectly innocent,â Only you could be looking at him with those big eyes, full of want, your curious fingers roaming over his chest, and still speak so earnestly. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, shaking from laughter. You wrap yourself around him, head buzzing. Itâs like youâre short-circuiting, sparks flying with every move, every breath.Â
Bucky nips at the sensitive flesh of your neck, hoping to elicit more of those small sounds from you. If it werenât for the quiet morning, remnants of mist dissolving in the first light, he would have missed the softest moan of his name that falls from your lips. He could do this all day. Just explore every move of your body against his, every way you can say his name, every touch that brings you closer to him. You move in effortless synchronicity with him, purely on instinct.Â
âThen itâs trouble you want, darling?â Bucky murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw.
âItâs only trouble if we get caught,â You reply breathlessly.Â
His finger is under your chin, tilting your face up to him, and finally, Buckyâs lips find yours. For a second, itâs just that: his lips pressed softly, almost chastely, against yours. You push yourself up on your tiptoes to get more leverage, wrapping your arm around his neck. Your other hand stays pressed against his chest, fisting his shirt, feeling how his heartbeat speeds up as you open your mouth for him with a sigh. Bucky doesnât hesitate to deepen the kiss, cupping your face. His other hand is roaming boldly over your back, applying light pressure on your spine so you arch into him, skimming just over the curve of your behind, playfully tugging at the ribbon of your wraparound dress. He knows exactly what he is doing and how to get exactly what he wants from you, and youâre more than eager to please.
Your mouth starts to tentatively explore the column of his neck as he whispers your name longingly, encouraging your little adventure. When your lips touch a particularly sensitive spot right under his ear, Bucky hisses â you can feel his muscles clench. Itâs exhilarating; he feels the sparks as much as you do. Bucky doesnât allow you to bask in your small victory too long, greedily capturing your mouth with his again, wrapping you around him, tucking you against him. His soft touch turns feverish, grasping at your hip. You match in kind, nails grazing the nape of his neck, just along his hairline â anything to keep the tension, the current arching.
You can feel the sunshine on your skin and see it through closed eyes. Breathlessly, you pull away just a fraction â Buckyâs lips are still ghosting over yours.Â
âWhatâs wrong, darling?â He asks so softly youâre unsure if you heard or felt the words against your lips.
âI have to go,â You mumble as you move to stand feet flat on the ground again. Itâs like waking up from a dream. Time is getting away from you. Youâre not ready to pull away from Bucky yet, wanting to stretch the moment out. You gently fix his collar, running your hands over his front once more, as much in an attempt to straighten out the wrinkles you left on his shirt as to feel him move under your palm again. When he steps away from you, you release a shuddering breath. You feel like youâve just been hit by lighting.Â
âIâll come find you,â He winks at you, grinning. Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture feels intimate, more personal, than you could have imagined.
It was everything you feared happening when you said yes to John Egan. It was everything you dreamed it to be. As you watch him leave, you know that youâll have a damn hard time giving that up.Â
âIâll be waiting.âÂ
note: this was literally supposed to be a quick 2k words fun meet cute kind of thing, just a quick adventure Morty, but oh god I'm in too deep. forgive me for this detour from Of All The Stars in The Sky, but it was necessary, you understand.
#Or Mila canât write drabbles#one shot most likely#john egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#john egan fic#john egan imagine#mota fanfic#masters of the air fanfic#john egan x nurse!reader
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From Psylocke Vol. 2 #001, âMasksâ
Art by Vincenzo CarratĂš and Fer Sifuentes-Sujo
Written by Alyssa Wong
#psylocke#kwannon#cyclops#scott summers#juggernaut#cain marko#temper#idie okonkwo#kid omega#quentin quire#magik#illyana rasputina#mila acker#john greycrow#donald pierce#skullbuster#marvel#comics#marvel comics
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â¨Mila's (Early) Endless Summer Reading List â¨
I'm packing my bags, so I thought I should pack my favorite stories: stuff that's been on my to-read list for too long, stuff I just enjoy re-reading and want you to know about, something to get me through the long-haul flight, something for sipping cocktails on the beach. I'm going to be updating the list with your recommendations and more stuff that I find. So:
Recommendations? đ YES PLEASE!
Recommend your own work? FUCK YES! ⨠minors dni, respect the author's tags, and show them some love by commenting and reblogging.
⨠TGM
mostly Bradley Bradshaw tbh lmao * This Love Came Back To Me by @beyondthesefourwalls i love these kinds of plots and it's so sweet *Remember You Even When I Don't by @beyondthesefourwalls i bizarrely never actually finished this and i will have to rectify this pronto *The Younger Kind by @roosterforme im like 20 chapters behind, soooo excited to binge this
*Leave a Light On by @sometimesanalice comfort story right here
*Hey Sailor by @sometimesanalice no notes, just yum
*Less Talk by @tongue-like-a-razor a jake story??? yes and i love this one *Faking It by @tongue-like-a-razor a classic, a must-read
*Little Wallflower by @bradshawsbitch it warms my poor heart and i feel this story on a personal level since I've been dealing with hearing loss
*Mise en Place by @bradshawsbitch hands down on my favorite AUs
*(christmas) baby please come home by @gretagerwigsmuse this fic influenced me so hard i bought a theragun *and even when weâre wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay by @gretagerwigsmuse actually just anything Jordan has ever done with the Smart Alec universe, you should read it
*Concerned Neighbor by @mothdruid this is just hot and you should enjoy it
*The Boyfriend Experience by @notroosterbradshaw i swear this is the fic that got me writing again, so if you like anything I've ever done you should go show Cass some love. *Don't Hang 'Em Till Noon by @sailor-aviator Jake western!AU? I knew I was rewatching Deadwood for a reason. Excited!! recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *Fool's Fare by @sailor-aviator A Jake pirate!AU while I'm on a beach in the Caribbean? Sign. me. up. Also recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *You Catch More Bees With Honey by @goldenseresinretriever I've seen this on my dash so much, but I shamefully never got around to it. How did you know I like hockey?
â¨
Masters of the Air
Trust by @blurredcolour yeaaaaah, im obsessed. im deceased. this is so good.
prettier than a peach by @honeyskywitch reading this on my flight, so excited!
Oblivious by @sagesolsticewrites saving this one for the airport~
#mila's early endless summer#fic rec#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster fanfic#rooster x reader#masters of the air fanfic#if you love it reblog it#john egan fic#top gun maverick fanfiction#mota fanfic
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john being partially blind in his left eye so arthur always stands on that side đ¤ (arthur definitely uses some excuse even though he's bright red and looking away when john calls him out)
#john marston#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#morston#mila talks#partially blind john u have my heart!!!!#he definitely definitely got some damage to it and no one can tell me no#:)#i love my morston mutuals sm
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ACTORS WHO APPEAR IN MUSIC VIDEOS PT. 3
Jennifer Lopez starring Ben Affleck in "Jenny From The Block".
The Rolling Stones starring Angelina Jolie in Anybody Seen My Baby
Bruce Springsteen starring Courtney Cox in "Dancing in the Dark".
Enrique Iglesias starring Jennifer Love Heiwitt in "Hero".
Aerosmith starring Alicia Silverstone in "Cryin".
Aerosmith starring Mila Kunis in "Jaded".
Michael Jackson starring Eddy Murphy & Iman in "Remember The Time".
Shakira & Cardi B starring Lucien Laviscount in "Punteria".
Michael Jackson starring Macaulay Culkin in "Black or White".
The Offspring starring Zoey Deschanel in "She's Got Issues".
Annie Lennox starring Hugh Laurie in "Walking on Broken Glass".
Michael Jackson starring John Travolta, Carl Weathers, Mayim Bialik, Whoopi Goldberg, Corey Feidman, Quincy Jones, Dan Aykroyd, Brigitte Nielsen, Danny Glover, Olivia Hussey, Billy Dee Williams, Paula Abdul, Lou Ferrigno, Richard Dreyfuss, Lou Diamond Philips, Don King, Jasmine Guy, Virginia Madsen, Rosanna Arquette, Steve Guttenberg, Amy Irving, Blair Underwood, Beverley Johnson, Malcolm-Jamal Warner, Jackie Collins, Emily Dreyfuss in "Liberian Girl".
#jennifer lopez#ben affleck#the rolling stones#rolling stones#angelina jolie#bruce springsteen#courtney cox#enrique iglesias#jennifer love hewitt#aerosmith#alicia silverstone#mila kunis#michael jackson#micheal jackson#eddy murphy#iman#shakira#cardi b#lucien laviscount#macaulay culkin#the offspring#zoey deschanel#annie lennox#hugh laurie#john travolta#whoopi goldberg#quincy jones#danny glover#paula abdul#lou ferrigno
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16 Unrelenting Turmoil
Previous Chapter
As we got to the top of the stairs Ardeth set me down on a chair in the library while he went searching for gauze to wrap my hand. I smiled to myself sitting there realizing that this was where the journey had all started. Had I never worked here or Rick never been missing, we wouldnât be in this situation right now. I found myself feeling grateful that we werenât adopted as children, who knows how I would have turned out had I grown up a socialite in America. I cringed at the thought of those dresses with corsets I had seen in the papers.
I heard some commotion near the front of the building footsteps quickly rushing through the hall. I spotted the curator come out from his office to meet the group which was most likely my brother and the Carnahans. Dr. Bay greeted them and they talked in hushed voices as Rickâs eyes caught my own noticing me. Ardeth cut off my view of him as he stepped into my line of sight. I smiled at him as he gingerly took my hand wrapping the gauze around multiple times to staunch the bleeding. He then transferred his attention to my thigh where the fabric had ripped. He looked into my eyes asking for permission to rip the fabric more. I nodded as I felt the feeling of eyes on me. He tore it, wrapping the gauze around the wound as the blood-soaked through almost immediately.Â
âI thought I told you to watch her, not maim her.â I heard the accusatory voice of my brother as his heavy footsteps approached us.Â
âItâs fine Rick we were playing with swords. One way to pass the time while you were off gallivanting with the others.â I said to him waving my left hand around to make a point, annoyed that he suddenly started caring about this.
âWhat is that?â He asked, âfuckâ I mentally cursed myself hoping that we wouldnât have to have this conversation just yet.Â
âItâs nothing,â I said as I placed my hand underneath the leg that Ardeth was wrapping. This caught the attention of Evy and Jon who walked up interrupting Rickâs incoming fury. Evy gave me a look of confusion and intrigue, a smile tugging at her mouth.Â
âLetâs see Eris.â She said as she stood next to Rick her fingers grazing his arm. I could tell he relaxed the second she touched him. I was grateful for her presence then. Ardeth looked up at me when he had finished the wrapping. I yanked the gauze out of his grip and started to wrap his shoulder to prevent him from moving.Â
âHoly smokes, look at the size of that thing. Itâs like a golf ball on your finger.â I heard Jon gasp as he caught sight of the rock on my finger. I watched my husband's face seeing a smile start to form. I could tell he was delighted at the reaction.
âOh my god, itâs absolutely beautiful, let me see,â Evy said, brushing past Rickâs shoulder and kneeling down as well. I gave her my left hand and saw Rick turn as red as a tomato. Evy noticed the wedding band, I felt her fingers move it a little.Â
âYou and he?â she asked with a soft smile gracing her face. I nodded unsure how to break this news to my brother.Â
âI wasnât even invited.â I heard Rick slowly put the pieces together. His voice didnât hold a tone of anger but rather sadness.Â
âShe is that missing link for me as you have found with Evelyn,â Ardeth uttered, watching me entirely while he said it. I smiled at him, unable to resist him. I leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft peck. I stood up wincing at the blood rush to my legs walking toward my brother. His eyes met mine and it looked as if he was mulling something over.Â
âYou never were one to take things slowly. Are you sure about this?â Rick asked me, I nodded.Â
âAlright, Ardeth, welcome to the chaos.â He said as he walked over to hug the man. As he did I saw Ardeth wince as his shoulder got the brunt of it. When Rick let go he chuckled a bit,Â
âWatch out for her, sheâll annihilate you with swords⌠But it seems youâve already figured that out.â He said.Â
âYes, a butcher taught her how to fight, not a swordsman.â He repeated the words he had told me just a few minutes ago.
âYes, what was his name again Eris? Gary? It was some weird name.â I sighed as he kept the conversation going. I wanted to get off the topic.
âGeralt.â I said shortly, Evy knew what I was talking about as her head spun toward me with wide eyes. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure.Â
âYeah, that was it⌠I seem to remember--â Rick kept going as I gave Evy a look, she elbowed him in the ribs to get him to stop talking.Â
âWhat was that for?â He grumbled looking down at Evy next to him.Â
âWe really should get started on finding out where the golden book is.â She said as she spun around and started walking towards the stairwell.Â
âSorry? What gold book?â I asked her as Ardeth and I followed the group up the stairs with the curator leading us toward the room that held the tablet sitting at the top of the steps.Â
âWell, according to legend the black book that the Americans found at Hamunaptra is supposed to bring people back from the dead. Until now it was a notion I was unwilling to believeâ Evy explained.
âWell believe it sister, that's what brought our buddy back to life,â Rick told her with a scoff in his voice as we made it to the first landing.Â
âYes, and Iâm thinking if the black book can bring dead people to lifeâŚâ Evy started her thought.Â
âThen maybe the gold book will kill him.â Rick finished her sentence.Â
âThatâs the myth. Now, we just have to find out where the gold book is hidden.â Evy explained as we reached the second floor.Â
âImhotepâ I could hear the chanting start outside.Â
âWhatâs that?â I asked them unsure what to expect when we left the safety of the museum. Evy turned around away from the tablet to look out the window.Â
âLast but not least, my favorite plague, boils and sores.â Jon morbidly breathed out.Â
âThey have become his slaves. So it has begun, the beginning of the end.â Ardeth said his hand slipping into mine.Â
âNot quite yet it hasnât. Come on.â Evy replied to everyone determined to get us out of this mess. She ran quickly back to the tablet as I eyed the crowd forming outside. I squeezed Ardethâs hand as I moved quickly back down the stairs ignoring the pain that spread through my leg.Â
âWhereâre you going?â I heard Rick ask looking down at me over the railing with Ardeth.Â
âTo get a sword. We wonât be able to shoot our way out of this.â I told him as I continued on my mission. Ardeth nodded at me but I could tell he wasnât happy to let me go alone. My legs carried me toward the path that Ardeth had led me down to the basement.
The air turned cold as I rushed through the storage area towards where the concrete turned to sand in the training area. I ran to the wooden stand and reached for the sheath strapping it to my back, then grabbing the sword that I had used not long ago to prove my skill to my husband. Just as I was about to sheath it my eyes flickered to Ahmanet hiding in the shadows of the room near the wall. Not wanting to confront the demon standing in front of me I turned on my heel trying to escape from her foreboding presence. Before I could start a run the wind was knocked from my lungs as I felt the cold concrete of the wall on my back. I groaned as I hit the floor, she was pissed and stronger than she was before.Â
âYou thought you could escape me?â She muttered walking up to my curled-up body on the floor as I coughed blood coming out of my mouth. I knew immediately that I had broken a rib as it hurt to breathe. I spit the blood from my mouth grabbing a handful of sand discreetly.Â
âI can always try,â I told her, attempting to get up from the ground. She stopped that movement, putting a hand on my neck and pushing my face further into the grains of sand. I stopped struggling against her, the force too much for my broken body to withstand.Â
âARDETH!!â I yelled out before Ahmanet pulled me up by my neck, the cold wall behind my back again as she silenced my voice. I struggled to breathe as she choked me.Â
âHe can't hear your screams of peril,â She said menacingly as I tried to pry her hands away from my throat but the attempts I made didnât matter as I started to see black fog my vision. I remembered the sand I held in my hand and thrust the grain at her face. She scoffed and squeezed tighter. The world fading away. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears slowing down. Just before the black took my entire world away I was dropped back onto the ground a groan emitting from my throat as I lay there for a second catching my breath yet again.Â
âEris, my love.â I heard his words echo through the space unwilling to open my eyes for fear I wasnât in my body anymore.Â
âWhat the hell happened?â I heard Rick as his feet hit the sand.Â
âOpen your eyes.â I heard Ahmanetâs now disembodied voice coming from inside my mind. I did as she asked, seeing Ardeth crouched in front of my head. I looked around the room trying to find her again.Â
âSheâs back, she was here,â I uttered, unsure how else to explain it at first.Â
âSheâs growing stronger from the catalyst of Imhotep rising. Itâs almost as if sheâs here with me in the physical world.â Ardeth nodded slowly then touched his forehead to mine. The intimate moment was interrupted by my brother clearing his throat.
âI hate to interrupt such a caring moment but we should really get going.â Evy said, breaking the tense silence that fell over the room. I moved to get up from the floor feeling the aches and pains more prominent this time. I reached for the sword that had dropped from my hand when I had tried to run away. I put it in the sheath behind my back, straightening out my muscles and stretching them.Â
âAlright, letâs go.â I followed the group from the basement and out to the front of the building where Jonathan was waiting with the car. Right before Jonathan could punch the gas to get us out of there I heard a voice yell from the steps of the museum.Â
âIMHOTEP!! IMHOTEP!!â Beni yelled, getting the mummyâs attention from where we had been standing at the window just a few minutes ago. Imhotep screamed, his jaw unhinging covered with decay that had not been fixed yet. The last person he would need was Daniels who was safely in the car with us. I cringed, not wanting to think about the manâs fate. I felt Ardethâs arm hook around my shoulder steadying me as the car took off in the direction of the inner city streets.Â
âYouâre gonna get yours Beni, you hear me? Youâre gonna get yours!âRick yelled from the front seat of the car near Jon. He drove through the streets of houses that covered the block. Jon stopped abruptly, the brakes of the car squealing as we faced a mob of Imhotepâs slaves. After a moment of sitting there, Rick used his foot to push the car forward causing Jon to let out a squeak as the car started to move forward into the mob of people.Â
âHang on,â Rick told the rest of us as people started to hit the windshield of Jonâs car. After being bulldozed they started to climb onto the car. Separating me from Ardeth as we both prepared for a fight. I grabbed the dagger I had hidden in my boot, slashing the wrists of a few that were gripped onto the love of my life. I ducked as I noticed Ardeth about to punch me in the face. I heard the scream of a man behind me who went flying off the car and into some baskets of food that lined the streets.Â
âOâConnell, OâConnell!!â I heard Daniels scream as he was being carried off the car by a few of the indentured. I shared a brief look with Ardeth as we let him go, continuing to fight off the others that were still latched onto the car. For a moment it was silent and everyone stopped. The crowd was gone from around us, going after the last American that had opened that chest in Hamunaptra. As soon as I had taken a breath a huge crash sent my body forward through the air. I felt Ardeth grab my shoulders holding me in place where we stood in the back of the car. The mob caught up to us, Ardeth pushed me out of the car to follow Evy, Jon, and the curator standing in front of the market that used to be set up every Sunday to buy fruits and other things that tourists would enjoy. I reached for my sword on my back holding it in front of the crowd that was starting to surround us. Rick was trying to hold them off with the torch he had picked up from the street.Â
âItâs the creature, heâs fully regenerated.â Dr. Bay whispered to us pulling me from the nostalgic thought. The crowd made a path for Imhotep to walk through. There was no longer decay on his mouth he was entirely whole now.Â
âCome with me, my princess it is time to make you mine for all eternity.â Imhotep walked up to Evy. I felt Ahmanet rise to the surface, once again. My posture changed abruptly as I looked over at Ardeth to find him already watching me. He reached for my hand and Ahmanet quickly pulled it away from him. I watched as his eyes showed a hurt expression watching as my eyes doubled. He knew what was coming.
âFor all eternity, idiot.â Evy corrected Beniâs words as he was translating for the rest of us.Â
âFight her Eris.â I heard Ardeth whisper to me, catching the attention of the curator. I did as he asked, trying to push toward the front of my mind and get her out of my body. I felt her start to lose hold.Â
âTake my hand and I will spare your friends.â Imhotep said to us.Â
âOh dear⌠Have you got any bright ideas?â Evy said to Rick as she debated her options.Â
âYou have nowhere else to go but with himâ I heard my voice ring through the air. I pushed Evy forward towards Imhotep. I watched as Rick looked back toward me his eyes widening at the sight of me. He looked to Ardeth briefly sharing a look as one of his hands left the torch for Evy.
âIâm thinking, Iâm thinking.â He said to her as I felt Ardeth wrap a chain around my wrists behind me. I felt Ahmanet scream in my head as the silver touched my skin. I crumpled into a sitting position on the ground.Â
âYou better think of something fast, because if he turns me into a mummy you're the first one Iâm coming after.â Evy said to Rick as she started to walk forward revealing me behind her. At the sight of Imhotep Ahmanet easily broke the chain that bound my wrists, the jolt of energy pushing me toward Evy and Imhotep. She shared a look with the fully regenerated mummy.
âNo,â Rick grunted out a look of desperation reaching for his pistol. Ardeth quickly reached out and stopped him from shooting. He held him back his own emotions running wild across his face.Â
âDonât, he still has to take me to Hamunaptra to perform the ritual,â Evy told Rick watching as the two men struggled internally with letting us go. My back straightened as I put the sword away watching my husband hold back my brother.Â
âThe sword skills were a delightful surprise Eris. They will come in handy.â She said to me as she let go of control for just a second. Allowing me to speak.
âI love you,â I whispered, talking to them both unsure if this was where we left each other forever.
âShe is right, live today, fight tomorrow.â Ardeth breathed out not wanting to let me out of his sight. Rick put the pistol away begrudgingly knowing that it wouldnât help the current situation.Â
âIâll be seeing you again.â Rick glared at Imhotep and me.Â
âEvelyn,â Rick uttered as we turned away from him and started to walk towards the path that had been cleared for us out of the city. I watched as Ahmanet started to converse with the mummy. I was too bogged down with her to struggle anymore. I needed to refresh my mind to figure out a way out of this. I slowly let the darkness consume me as we traveled back across the desert toward the city that had started this unending nightmare.Â
Next Chapter
#princessahmanet#the mummy 1999#the mummy 2017#the mummy fanfiction#the mummy love story#the mummy returns#the mummy tomb of the dragon emperor#evelyncarnahan#rick o'connell#ardeth bay#jonathan carnahan#love story#brenden fraser#oded fehr#egyptian#imhotep#rachel weisz#ardeth bey x oc#john hannah#ardeth bay x oc#ardeth bey#mila kunis
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âYou working tonight, Jardani?â
More John and Mila stuff.
#works slow please have blorbo brainrot#my art#john wick#oc: mila#jardani jovonovich#keanu reeves#art
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Mitchell's Diary - In over my Head
One-shots in the series of Art & Vampires. Excerpts from Mitchellâs diary.
Words: 767
Being a badass male vampire doesn't mean you can handle female vampires đ
References to stories in the Art & Vampires series - 1. New Orleans and 2. London and 6. New York
Art & Vampires is about the relationship and developments around Mitchell, a vampire and Amy (Ames), a human. Itâs about the vampire world, the supernatural, but also about history, cities around the world, art, antiques and adventures.
Face claims vampires: Aidan Turner - John Mitchell, Richard Armitage - Rick Marlowe, Jaime Murray - Alana (Lana) Lenoir and Ben Barnes - Ben Sheldon. Humans: Mila Kunis - Amy (Ames) Quinn, Bianca Lawson - Lena Parker (witch).
List of Mitchellâs diary One Shots in the Art & Vampires Master list
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Rick warned me, but of course I didn't listen. That time, I was in way over my head and I can tell you that being immortal is less attractive when Alana keeps bringing up your mistake and rubs your face in it every time she gets the chance. But what can I say, she was a beauty. Â
I'm talking about Neesha of course. Â
I'll never forget her and not just because Lana keeps reminding me, the she-devil. I hope she doesn't get her hands on this diary, otherwise I'm screwed, like that time I got involved with Neesha. And I mean literally.
It was in the forties, nineteen forties. I need to remember to mention the centuries. We were back in London and I had been able to get my life, or existence, to be exact, back on track after, well, you know, Belle. Â
I had been thinking. I couldn't go through any of that again, losing a loved one. I'd had a hard enough time before Belle, dealing with the fact that you will always outlive your loved ones, but losing Belle hit hard, as you are well aware, because I've written diaries full of my laments. Â
So, I had a plan, a brilliant one. I had the perfect solution. I would get myself a female vampire companion, who would never leave me and I would have eternal happiness. Neesha was going to be just that. Or so I thought.
In the first half of the 20th century, we moved around from New Orleans to New York, and finally back to London. After the war, London was a mess. The city was severely damaged and even though our neighborhood wasn't spared, The Mayfair, our mansion, was. We moved back for a while to keep an eye on things and make sure that it remained our house. People who lost their homes during the bombings of London were being relocated to abandoned houses and we needed to make sure that our mansion was not going to be taken over by others.Â
Fortunately for me, even though the city was damaged and the people were recovering from the war, there were always parties to be found. Especially for us vampires.Â
As you can imagine, I was spending as much time as I could attending as many parties as I could. I was determined to find that vampire companion and never be sad again. Â
Neesha was a gorgeous goddess, who stood out amongst the crowd like a shining star in the dark night sky, quite literally, with her shiny jewelry and extravagant silver dress.
I can't even remember how I got there, to that party, but I will always remember the sight of her and how I, half intoxicated, chatted her up and actually managed to get her undivided attention. Â
As said, Rick had warned me not to get involved with her. He had an eye for 'trouble', but, you know, I had my plan and this scrumptious woman was going to fit that perfectly. Â
To this day I'm still not sure if she was playing with me, like a cat with her prey, or if I had enamored her with my charm.
By the end of the night, having abandoned Rick and Alana, I found myself in Neesha's arms, or in hindsight, claws, in what seemed to be a former hotel somewhere in the city. She had made the hotel her home and the top room, with a huge skylight, was her den. Â
I don't know how many times we fucked, but it seemed like we did nothing else for days. It was like I was under her spell and I couldn't get free and I am man enough to admit that my dick actually hurt!Â
You know, as vampires, we recover quickly, also on that front, but after Neesha, I was about ready to be celebate for the rest of my immortal life.Â
At some point, I must have seen the light and realize that I wasn't ready to have my existence ended by sex. Even if death by sex sounds pleasant enough. So, I ran and didn't look back and my not so brilliant plan of getting a vampire companion went out the door with me. I didn't stay celibate of course, but those are stories for another time.Â
Anyway, I'm not sure why I wrote down this memory. Maybe it's because Ames was fishing for embarrassing stories from the past and I didn't really want to confess all this to her. Or maybe it's a way of letting go. Now if only Alana could do the same.Â
Time to say goodnight for now and hide you well, my dear diary. I'm ready to join my sweet Ames in bed, cuddle up to her and make pleasant memories.
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#Aidan turner#richard armitage#art and vampires#fan fic#vampires#being human uk#being human#autumn#the supernatural#history#Mitchell's diary#John Mitchell#Rick Marlowe#Amy Quinn#female oc#Alana Lenoir#Jaime Murray#Mila Kunis
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Mila van Eeten, Lilli Cummings, Madja John Peter, and Yacine Ferroudj for d la Repubblica May 2024
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