huoshan
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“You said you need a pilot, ma’am? Captain Pete Mitchell, United States Navy. I’ve been an aviator for 35 years.”
She can feel her eyes watering up in relief. Thank you, God, she sends heavenward, into the clouds even higher than their cruising altitude.
“Can you fly an A320?”
Captain Mitchell smiles at her and, good lord, he really is a miracle.
“Ma’am, if it has wings, I can fly it,” he winks and adds, “Hell, I can probably manage even if it doesn’t.”
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Or; Maverick's red-eye flight home to San Diego is more eventful than he might have hoped.
Bookmarked by huoshan
15 Aug 2025
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Trusting people is hard, especially when they’ve let you down so horribly before. But you trust Kate, and Kate trusts Alex. And trusting Alex? Well that might just change your entire life.
Bookmarked by huoshan
07 Jun 2025
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Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.
Bookmarked by huoshan
06 Jun 2025
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You're a diamond in the rough, plucked from abject misery by your Russian oligarch husband, only to be made an indentured servant. You cover your eyes and ears about where exactly his money comes from, but you know it involves blood.
Until you're abducted, imprisoned, and interrogated by an assassin in a skull mask. Forced to cooperate or face the mouth of an uncaring gun - you turn to espionage under duress from SAS operatives, motivated by the faint possibility of being given the chance to finally go home.
Ghost hates you. He hates the beast you rile in him. He hates that he craves you.
or: you're the pampered wife of a russian warlord. ghost hunts you down and finds a use for you.
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- English
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- 21/21
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Bookmarked by huoshan
31 May 2025
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Your saviour, a bloody mess on his kilt and three dead men around him.
"Thank you," you manage. Voice crackling as you form full words now. The stench of gore is another presence in the yard with you. Thick, you resist the urge to gag as it seems to catch in your teeth as you inhale noisily through your mouth.
The man who saves you is silent, breath heaving out of him. He is massive, with dark hair that is pushed back out of his face. A light beard and red in his kilt. Red everywhere, actually. Staining the white of his cotton shirt beneath the crossover of his kilt, staining his skin. His broadsword is almost the same height as him, almost as wide. Metal catching the sun, glowing red as it drips blood.
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or, Johnny is the son of a Laird, and he thinks you look an awful lot like the wife that he has been dreaming about. 1700S-HIGHLANDER!AU
Bookmarked by huoshan
12 May 2025