lunacat777 - Tumblr blog

[lunacat777]

Fan fiction idea

Should I make a fanfic continuing the Songbird storyline? Mix in some König?

I would be so excited lol

[lunacat777]

Playlist Simon “Ghost” Riley

I wanted to make a playlist of what it would feel like if you had a relationship with Ghost

Streets - Doja Cat

Hey Now - London Grammar

Dead of Night - Orville Peck

You Know Me Too Well - Nothing But Thieves

Miracle, Baby - Nothing But Thieves

Back in Town - Florence and The Machine

Caught - Florence and The Machine

Head Over Heals - Tears for Fears

[lunacat777]

Part 3/Final Mission: Songbird (Simon “Ghost” Riley)

Hello, hope everyone is enjoying the series, I just decided to repúlalos due to some HTLM issues and text but here it is. Warned you it was a slow burner but I think it’s worth it for the end.

Warning: 18+ only, mention of violence

Chapter 5:

Burning

The next morning we were ready to move out. Soap, Alejandro, and Rudy all head out to scope out the village to see if Alacranes are around. I stayed behind with Simon. I gave him back his cloak. He takes it and I see his arms. His veins are prominent, bulging out of his skin because of his muscles. On his left arm he has a tattoo sleeve. His arms are so attractive. They tense as he holds his rifle tight.

“You focused?” He breaks my thoughts.

“Yes,” I lied.

He stares at me. He knows. Shit.

Ghost gets terrifyingly close and I step back against the wall. He towers over me.

“I want to get you out of here alive. It’s more than just the mission now.”

“What?” I was stunned. “What do you mean?”

Before he answers, Soap appears at the door.

“The coast is clear. Everything alright?” He noticed that LT was towering over me.

“Yeah,” Ghost says. “Making sure she understands to stay low.”

We leave the distillery and climb into the very same small beat up Toyota truck from the gas station. Rudy is driving and Alejandro stays up front. Simon was on my left and Soap on my right. Simon’s thigh bumps into mine. I lean on him slightly. He doesn’t flinch or adjust, he lets me.

I’m tired. The last two nights have been restless and the constant need to move was catching up to me. I fall asleep.

The road started to feel bumpy and I awoke. My head was laying on Simon’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I say standing up straight.

Simon didn’t say anything but Soap gave me a sly smile.

“Catching up on your beauty sleep?” Soap asked. “Ghost’s quite the softy, you’ll come to find out.”

We arrived at Alejandro’s home that night. It’s a one story home on a hill that overlooks farmland. It’s gated but hidden away by the large trees. It has red brick shingles and beige walls, covered by red vine-like flowers. It seems simple but it’s gorgeous and quent. A large wooden door leads into the parlor.

The room I’m staying in is a master room. A king sized bed stands tall against the wall. Lying against the headboard are mountains of the fluffiest pillows I’ve ever seen and covered satin sheets. Across the entrance stands two double french doors that lead into a balcony and I can see the canopy of the forest outside. A storm is rolling in. The sun’s rays peak through the cracks of the darkened clouds.

Alejandro, Rudy, and Soap decide that Simon should take the first watch. As they leave, Alejandro and Soap give Ghost a playful look.

Simon is standing outside of the bedroom door.

“I’m gonna shower,” I tell him.

“Alright, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t you need to have eyes on me at all times?”

“Guess I do.”

He follows me into the room and closes the door behind him. I walk into the bathroom through its arched entryway. It has no door. It’s a luxurious open bathroom with a glass box shower at the center. On the left side there’s a double sink and a large mirror that extends from one wall to another. I look at myself. My face looks a little puffy, my eyes are dark and heavy, and my skin looks greasy. This is what I’ve looked like all these days? I think.

A small crystal chandelier drapes over the ceiling. I opened the shower door and turned it on. I turned around to see Simon had situated himself on the lounge chair that sat right across the room. He was looking at me with exciting speculation, gripping the arms chairs tightly.

I began to undress slowly for his enjoyment. Who knows when the last time was when he had a little bit of fun. I take off the clip that holds up my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulders. I lift up my shirt exposing my bra. I slowly unravel my pants and kick them away. Maybe this is too much, I think.

“Keep going,” Simon says. His words ripple through the air and take hold of me. It ignites me in a way I’ve never been.

I unclip my bra, exposing my breasts. I can hear the arm chairs crunch from underneath his strong hands. I’m already wet thinking about what they feel like on my hips and neck. I bend over to take off my underwear. My spine tightens and I start feeling nervous. I ran away and hopped into the shower.

COWARD! I thought. How stupid! Why did I do that? This situation was moving faster than I had anticipated.

I move closer to the hot stream of water and let it run over my head. I wanted Simon more than ever and I could feel myself grow warm, aching.I hear the door open behind me. I don’t turn. His face! I was scared to turn around, finally revealing his secret. I could feel his naked body come closer to my own. His hands wrap around my waist pulling me into him. He begins to gingerly kiss my neck. I can feel him slowly thrust his hips into me, pressing his hard cock onto my backside. I hang onto his muscular arms and move with his rhythm. He continues blessing my skin with his lips. His left hand creeps up to my chest and begins to caress my breasts. The other hand finds my clit and begins to pleasure me.

I can’t help it anymore and I turn to face him.

He’s handsome. Early thirties and scruffed up. His hair is short military style, charcoal black,and disheveled from the long days of wearing his balaclava. Though he looked roughed up he was generously gorgeous. He had strong features which contemplated his eyes. I could see his arm tattoo on his left arm extended up his shoulder and into his chest. Veins peek through his chiseled muscles.

He leans in and begins to kiss me passionately, grabbing my face with his large rough hands. Instinctively, I grab his cock and stroke it. Simon groans. The black shadow washes off his eyes.

His voice becomes more baritone and gentle. His cock is long and thick. It’s dangerously ample. I could feel it pulse in my hands as I caress it. He slams me into the wall but not enough to hurt. He starts kissing me again, ravenously, all over and leads down to my chest. Simon wraps his mouth around my breast, using his tongue to play with my aerola. His other hand finds it’s way to my clit. I desperately reach out to something as great elation washes over me. I grab onto his back and feel his muscles flex.

“I want to taste you,” he says in my ear. He picks me up so effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck. We head over to the bed.

The storm has rolled in and the balcony doors are wide open. Booom! Thunder and the lights go out. But the full moon showers us with iridescent silver light. He sets me on the bed gently and starts kissing my neck and collarbone. electricity is running through me. He starts to go down when…

“Wait!” I panic. “I’ve never had collingus before.”

“I’ll be gentle,” his voice is deep.

Simon goes down on me. His tongue is magnificent! As his tongue explored the crevices of my cunt he caressed my breasts all at the same time. His scruff scrapes against the inner skin of my thighs.

“You taste like a peach, darling,” he stands up. He starts to crawl atop of me when I stop him.

“Lie down,” I demand. He’s stunned by the sudden order but follows willingly.

I climb between his legs, bring myself down onto his cock and begin to pleasure him with my mouth. He lets out a soft groan. I play with the shaft of his cock with the tip of my tongue.

“Bloody hell,” he gripes. I giggle.

Simon grabs a fistful of my hair and he thrusts himself into my throat. I take it and feel his large membrane pulsating.

“I have to be inside you,” He sits up and brings my face up to him for a kiss. I straddle him, letting his cock finally submerge inside me. I yelp.

“You okay?” Simon asked concerningly.

I nod. “It’s bigger than I thought.”

“Oh, just you wait.”

He grips my hips and begins to guide me up and down his cock. I straddle him faster. He moans. Oh god, his moans. We both speed up. I wrap my arms around his neck and he pulls me in close. We both catch fire, enjoying the pleasure from this forbidden copulation.

Simon uses his right arm to lift me up and lays me on my back. As he finds his way on top of me, he slips it back in so effortlessly.

“You feel fucking fantastic,” he grunts. “You’re my girl, alright? I'm gonna keep you safe.”

I can’t speak. The feeling is so gratifying and holds me tightly that words cannot formulate in my mind.

He goes slow at first but as soon as he feels my cunt dripping wet he starts to fuck me hard. The sound of heavy rain and thunder washes out our sounds of midnight passion. Simon is ravenous for me and rams me with his cock. I bounce underneath him with every thrust and breathing in the rapture. He has a tight grip on me as if I were to slip away. I run my fingers through his hair and he buries his face into my neck. His hot breath nuzzles my skin. I can’t help but dig into his skin. His arms, back, and thighs. His moans are a big turn on and a loud one escapes my lips. He covers my mouth as he continues plowing into me.

“Good girl. Sounds like you’re almost there.” He thrusts harder. “You have to be quiet, though. Don’t want to give us away, right?”

“No,” I exclaim.

He growls again and my moans threaten to escape from my lips.

“Are you going to cum for me, Rosie?” He whispers in my ear.

I nod.

“I want you to say it.”

“Yes,” I whimper.

“Yes, what?”

“Please make me cum.”

“Good girl.”

He goes harder. My eyes begin to water not from pain but from pleasure. My toes curl. I’ve never felt this before. I hold onto his arms for dear life as he fills me with ecstasy. He’s going fast and I feel myself being stretched out. He’s hitting my G-spot. I tense up as I feel myself coming closer and closer. A moan escapes my lips and it turns him on. I explode in euphoria. I quake underneath him.

“That’s my girl,” he goes harder.

The euphoria doesn’t stop, it stretches to each part of my body. I’m in heaven. I scratch at his arms. He grunts with each thrust until he stops. I am still shaking.

I’m out of breath and so is he. Simon looks into my eyes. All this time that I thought he looked at me with disdain, in actuality, he looked at me with admiration.

“Simon.” I say his name.

“Rosie.” He kisses me. “I’m not done with you, yet.”

“What?” I was aghast. How much more can this man have?

He stands at the edge of the bed. The 6’4” man gently wraps his hands around my ankles and tugs me toward him. He turns me over and has me lay on my stomach. Simon props me up in a way that I’m on all fours, aligning our his together. He plays with my cunt with his cock like a toy, smacking it against my ass.

“You’re drenching,” he slips it in.

He carefully grabs a fistful of hair and pulls it tight. With the other hand, he grabs my hip and begins to fuck me doggystyle. It feels so good that my arms give out and forces me to have my face buried into the sheets. He lets go of my hair and goes for my hips, fucking me harder, his fingers digging into my skin.

“I’ve been looking at this arse wondering what it would look like bouncing off my cock.”

“How does it look?” I sputtered out.

“Bloody beautiful,” he plunges deeper. I can feel my ass bounce as he pumps his cock into me. He’s growling again. I hide my yelps into the bed sheets. He knows what he’s doing, toying with me, wanting me to scream. Simon’s hands glide down toward my back and push me down, forcing myself into an arch. As I try to pry myself up on my hands, he takes advantage and grabs my arm, locking it behind me. This makes me twist, facing him. His eyebrows were furrowed as he focused on fucking me but all in the while trying not to cum.

“You want to cum inside me?” I asked shrewdly.

“You’d like that, sweetheart?” he moans.

“I know you want to. Look at you, you want to do it so badly.”

“Fucking bloody hell,” he’s getting close.

He quickly turns me over and fucks me missionary, his rough hands on my hips again. He’s using a different rhythm, hard but slow. His dark eyes are on fire, looking intensely at me. He slows down and he takes out his cock, it explodes on my stomach.

After retrieving a towel from the bathroom and discarding it, he lays in bed with me. We kiss passionately and I feel his scruff grate over my neck as he explores the creases of my chest. I fall asleep on his chest, put to sleep nothing but the storm, his heart, and breathing.

Chapter 6:

Goodbye

Later in the night, Simon and I made love numerous times. We stopped only until the sun peeked over the horizon and the storm had evaporated.

“I have to go check up on Soap,” Simon says as he begins to dress. “Make sure nothing is going to haywire.”

“Simon?” I call out for him.

He looks at me as he’s about to put back on the balaclava.

“Why’d you show me your face? I thought that was something you never did.”

“I want you to know who I am when I see you again.”

“Will you want to?”

“I have to.”

He finished getting ready, putting the mask back on, becoming Ghost once again.

He comes over and dips his forehead against my own. Gently, we tap our foreheads together. Finally, he leaves.

I lay in bed, engulfed in the aftermath of our nightly passion. I could smell the petrichor from the nighttime storm. Twirling in the sheets, I snuggled in the space he had occupied. Pine.

A few moments later, he came back and said that it was time to leave. I get dressed and he stays in the room with me.

“You smell like pine,” I tell him.

“You smell like strawberries,” he says.

He has his combat attire and I feel safe with him. Extremely safe. We walk out of the room and meet with Soap.

“You sleep alright,” he asks me. He’s smiling.

Awe, shit, I think. He knows.

“Johnny,” Simon corrects him.

“Sorry, sir,” Soap’s smile drops but returns again before continuing, “just thought with a bed that creaks that much it didn’t sound comfortable at all.”

“It was plenty comfortable, Soap,” I said. “Best nights rest I’ve ever had.”

Simon sighs and we walk out to the courtyard of the hacienda. Alejandro and Rudy await for us.

“Didn’t need much help taking watch last night, did you, Ghost?” Alejandro said.

“Enough,” Simon got serious.

The men were pulling his leg. It was fun to watch but Simon was getting serious. He was a private man and I could understand.

“My men said that they haven’t seen much movement around the area,” Alejandro said. “It’s safe to move her out now.”

We arrive at a desert location, away from the forest. It’s a warehouse and it has a helipad on the side. Inside, Soap and Simon had called Laswell to verify that I had arrived safely and ready for pick up.

“Laswell,” Simon says before the end of the communication.

“Yes, Ghost?”

“I’d like to request that Songbird be transferred from the U.S. to England.”

Laswell looked uneasy.

“Why?”

“I want to keep a closer eye on her.”

Laswell squinted at the both of us. She looked carefully, putting the pieces together in her head and understood.

“Congratulations, Riley,” Laswell said sarcastically. “You’ve earned yourself a liability. Regardless, we need her and if you compromise this, there will be consequences.”

“I know, ma’am.”

A helicopter arrived shortly after. Simon escorted me to it and put his hands around me to lift me inside. He didn’t let go of my hand and made me turn to him. He wasn’t coming. I brought my forehead to his and gently tapped. Simon squeezed my hand and let go. He stepped away enough for the helicopter to advance into the air. I looked at the window and he stood there watching me fly away. He became smaller as we descended over the hills until I could see him no more.

Months Later…

I hadn’t seen Simon for the last few months. His kisses scorched my skin. It’s like I dreamt of him. Simon’s wishes of me transferring to England had come true. I had been living in this hideaway home for some time now. Though I missed the people of Las Almas, the warm weather, and food; England was reminiscent of Simon.

I had begun getting ready for my day. I could've worn slacks because I had nowhere to go. All I could do is watch the tele, read books, garden, or some small pass time of the sorts. But I wanted to get ready. In case he ever came back. If ever.

I headed toward the bedroom door and I saw him. Standing at the entryway.

“Who are you getting ready for, miss?” Simon asks. He sports a black hoodie, trousers, and tennis shoes.

“Simon!” I rush over to him and jump into his arms.

We embrace. I couldn’t believe it. What if I was dreaming? He held onto me tightly, not budging, not even an inch. Pine.

“Missed you, Rosie,” he said. “Bring over that pretty neck of yours.”

He takes something out of his pocket. A dainty chain. I turn, lifting my hair and let him drape the chain around my neck. He clasps it and says “Just for you.”

I look down at the gold pendant which is in the shape of a heart. I open it and I see a small picture of my mother.

“Simon.”

“Took me a second to find,” he says. “That’s why I couldn’t come see you sooner.”

We kiss.

I don’t know what sort of life this is for me now but I didn’t care. As long as it was with Simon Riley. We both had sealed our fate when we decided to pursue something more. His job was dangerous and I was a danger to him. Enemies could use us to get to one another. Like Lawell said, we were liabilities. Simon deserved love and he knew that I did, too. We were both broken but we knew that we’d risk it all for one another. Whatever may happen to me or him, I believe we both are happy in this moment, and that’s all that mattered.

[lunacat777]

Part 3: Mission: Songbird (Simon "Ghost" Riley fanfiction)

Just finishing up the third and final part of Mission: Songbird. It's when it gets raunchy so please keep an eye out. Also, if you could please share this, I would so so appreciate all of you!

[lunacat777]

Part 2 Mission: Songbird (Simon "Ghost" Riley fan fiction)

Hello! Here is the second part of Mission: Songbird. Let me know if you're enjoying this short story so far!

WARNINGS: Under 18+ only, death, death, and some traumatizing events and retellings.

Chapter 3:

Mission: Songbird

The men had me converse with a woman named Kate Laswell. She was head of the team. In a flattering but threatening way, she said that I could assist the U.S. with intel or leave me at the mercy of my father. 

“Your father helped a man by the name of Hassan. Do you recall if this led to anything else other than vieling him from the Mexican and U.S. Military?”

It didn’t take much convincing when I mentioned a woman by the name of Valeria. That she and my father were creating some kind of tunneling system to hide incoming threats for money. That was when it was decided that I should be taken out of Mexico and brought to the U.S. 

“Soap, Ghost. It’s very important that she gets out of there alive. I’ve set up a pick up order but you’ll have to move out of the city.”

“heard that Carlos has put a bounty on her head. More than just the cartel are out for her now,” Alejandro said.

My stomach drops. 

“Exactly why we need to escort her out covertly.” Laswell said. “Ghost, Soap, and Alejandro. Only a few men should be with you. Have reinforcements close but not enough to give you away.”

We moved out that same night to a village nearby. Los Vaqueros set up a watch around the village to keep an eye out for any incoming threats. 

The whole ride there Alejandro would strike up conversation. I decided to join in and ask about the neighboring city. I wasn’t allowed out further Las Almas. Soap and Alejandro were courteous and responsive but Ghost seemed to actively ignore me.

They set up a hideout at a run down motel. They had me stay in a room by myself but a few others stayed in the room next door. I thought it would be best to shower to wash off the blood and grime. 

I dried myself off and walked back into the room, wrapping the towel around me. I jump when I see a figure standing at the doorway of the room. A small lamp sat at the nightstand providing almost no light, making the corners of the room an abyss of darkness.

It was Ghost.

“Why would you come in here like that?” I called out.

He said nothing. In his hand he has a foam takeout box. “Thought you were hungry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He sets the box down and begins to leave.

“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for saving me, too.” 

He stops midway of opening the door, hesitating for a second.

“I hope you like what I brought you. Not much round, here, princess.” He leaves.

What a strange guy, I thought. I brought you. He had personally gone out of his way to get me this food? No, if anyone saw him they’d call out to the cartel. But if he didn’t get the food personally, why bring it directly to me? Not whomever that got it? Whatever, I’m looking too much into it.

That night I was restless. My father had sent a bounty for me. That already tells you enough that he’d rather put my ass on the line than his own. I had to look out for myself now. The ladies that would care for me back home will miss me. I’ll miss them, too. And the people. If this was a possible way that I could, I will. But the cartel is like mold. You think you get rid of it but there is a new spot that creeps up out of nowhere and consumes again. 

“...the girl…” I could hear them talking in the room next to mine. The bed’s headboard is against the wall tangent to their room. I sit up and put my ear against it. Through the thin wall I could hear them clearly. 

“She’s like you, Ghost,” Soap said. “Sneaking around and spying.”

“What’d you see before the extrusion, LT?” Alejandro asks.

Ghost was quiet for a moment. 

“She stays in the house most of the time but she doesn’t stay still. She goes searching for talk, sneaks around. Knows the exits and entries of the house very well. She’s quick and quiet. She said she doesn’t like to get involved in her father’s business but it looks quite the opposite to me.”

“What makes you say that?” 

Another pause. 

“Whenever she goes to the village, she splurges. She throws out money like Robin Hood but for hush money.” 

My heart dropped. Not only has he been spying on me during my private hours but he thinks that I take part willingly. 

“Do you know anything about her mother?” Alejandro said. 

Silence. I assume they men shrug.

“Her mother was a prisoner. Forced marriage. Everyone knew how much that woman loved her daughter. She loved the people, too. Her name was Julieta and she was a kind woman. She did so much for the community until Carlos coerced her into marriage. I don’t think Rosie is anything like her father.”

I noticed that I stopped breathing. Alejandro had come to my defense. I wondered why? The commander of Los Vaqueros defending a cartel’s daughter. I’d believed that he would have hated me. 

“Where is she now?” Ghost asked. 

“Dead.” 

My ear lifted from the wall. Moments later I could hear their door open and close. Talking aroused again.

“She’s fascinating isn’t she,” Soap said.

I quickly got up on the bed again and pressed my ear to the wall once more. This is silly, I thought, childish even. 

“All the years I’ve known you, Ghost,” Soap said jokingly, “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do her.” 

“You’re sick in the head, Johnny,” Ghost said back. “I have eyes for no one.”

“Except for me, right?” Soap said. No reaction. “Well then.”

He stayed silent for a moment. 

“She’s quite attractive you have to admit.” 

“That’s like falling in love with dynamite, boy.” 

“Wouldn’t be so hard for you.”

Soap was trying to get Ghost riled up.

“She’s the mission. That’s it.” 

Just as I lifted my ear, Ghost said, “But yeah…she’s quite fit.”

My stomach flutters.

They didn’t talk much after that. I don’t remember falling asleep but I awoke to a knock on the door. Soap was on the other side telling me to get ready. I threw on my clothes and was out the door. They moved me out quickly into a discrete military vehicle.

I sit in between Ghost and Soap. It was a hard squeeze. Both of the men were burly but Ghost was definitely the biggest out of the two. It could��ve been the kevlar vest which made him look larger than he seemed; nonetheless, he had an intimidating presence.

The convoy began heading north. We drove on the road for a while until we came to a full stop. Alejandro was in the passenger seat and his second in command, Rudy, was driving the vehicle.

“Why are we stopping?” Ghost asked, already agitated.

“Don’t know.” Alejandro spoke on his radio for updates. 

Suddenly a car came bolting from beside us, spraying us with bullets. Ghost arched over me to shield me from the bullets. Nothing came through but it was a reaction I wasn’t expecting. He covered me with his entire body and pressed me against the seat. It wasn’t comfortable to be shoved up against his diamond hard vest but I could smell him. Musk with a hint of pine and sandalwood. It was so faint I could’ve been dreaming it. My heart was pounding. I looked up to his face and his dark brown eyes looked into mine. I could see through the slits of his mask that his eyebrows were puckered. 

“It’s an ambush!” Alejandro yelled.

“Fucking move then!” Ghost shouted.

Rudy punched the gas and we jolted forward. 

“Don’t return fire, we can’t engage in combat with her here.” Alejandro brought out his gun and cocked it. 

Our tire was shot out and we were forced to stop at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. All the men bolted out of the car, their weapons drawn. They separated to cover from the incoming men. 

Ghost jumped out of the car and turned to rush me out. At the edge of the seat, Ghost wrapped his hands on my waist and helped me down. He puts me behind him. 

“You stay close, alright!” he commanded. 

“Okay!”

He led me away from the hail of gunfire toward the side of a building away from the action. I could hear the bullets whistle by.

Men came rushing from the corner of the building. Without hesitation Ghost charged at them. He shot at two of the men. He took out his knife and slashed it across the cartel’s neck and in the same motion, stabbed him in his throat.

He turns to me and hands me a pistol. “You use this only if anyone but me, Soap, or Alejandro get close to you, yeah?”

I shake my head.

“Got it?!” He shouts.

“Yes!”

“Good girl.” He spots a beat down truck and leads us to it. He shoves me in the back. 

The gun feels heavy in my hand. It’s like a grenade. 

“Soap! Alejandro! I got a vehicle. Where are you?” Ghost yells over the radio.

“Behind the tanks!” Soap exclaims. 

“On my way! Give me some cover!”

We haul over to Soap, Rudy, and Alejandro are taking cover. They start firing back in order to cover us. The men rush into the vehicle. As Ghost begins to drive away, the cartel stops the vehicle by standing in front of us with weapons drawn. They bark orders for us to get out of the car. 

Blood spurts out from their chest. Alejandro’s men have arrived and tell the commander over the radio to go.

“Drive down the mountain, into the forest!” Rudy says. 

Ghost does so. And away we go from the gunfire. 

Chapter 4: 

Fathers

“Okay, gentlement,” Laswell said. “You’re on your own.”

“Where can we go where the cartel doesn't have eyes?” Soap asks. 

The men began devising a plan to get around this roadblock. Alejandro, looking the most fixated on his thoughts says, “I have an idea.”

Alejandro hesitated for a moment before speaking further. “My family home. It’s secluded. No one should know where it is.”

“Rural?” Ghost asks. 

“Yes…but it’s risky to put my family in danger.” 

“Sergeant,” Laswell began. “, we all have sacrificed for the greater good. Your sacrifice, though, won’t come without reward. The loss of some of your men has proven your loyalty. You can expect some aid from the U.S. in the future if you help get this done.”

Alejandro thought long and hard. 

“Chingao. I’ll do it. No one should be there anyway. Only if it means that no one else gets involved.”

“You’ll have to remain there until tomorrow. Ghost, you make sure this happens discreetly,” Laswell demanded.

“Yes ma’am.”

We found refuge in an abandoned tequila distillery. The distillery room was surrounded by large steel barrels and empty crates scattered all over. A steel table existed in the middle of the room with industrial chairs tucked underneath.

To pass the time the men conversed amongst themselves. I sat and watched. Ghost didn’t do much talking either. After a few minutes, he got up and picked up a couple of crates and set them against the wall making a makeshift target. Thud! Ghost began throwing his knives.

Soap stood, scouring the room. 

“Wonder if they got anything here. What’d you say this place was, Alejandro? A tequila distillery?”

“Yeah, it was run down when American businessmen started opening their own distilleries down here. They were outcompeted and put out of business.”

I watched Ghost closely. He was throwing his knives with such precision.

“Can I try?” I ask him.

Ghost threw his last knife. He seemed adverse in the beginning but gave in.

“C’mon,” he walked over to the target and pulled out the knives that stuck out from the board. 

He and I met at the marker, where he stood before upon throwing his knives. His existence is like dark matter, the air becomes heavier, and has a gravitational pull. Even with this fact I don’t feel endangered. The opposite actually. My lower back prickles. 

“Go on then,” he says with a voice so deep and rich. Presenting a selection of knives, Ghost extends his hand out to me. 

I take a couple and it’s heavier than I thought they’d be. I bring the tip of the knife and push it against my thumb. The knife has blood on it. 

“Carefull,” Ghost says as he clasps on my hand. He looks delicately at me. My stomach fills with warmth. The hair in the back of my neck stands up. I feel him undressing me in his mind as his eyes wander up and down. I wonder what he looks like underneath the mask. His poise is tempting, seductive. 

“Don’t want you to cut yourself,” he says gently. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’d like to get you out of here in one piece.”

“Didn’t think you’d like me enough for that.” 

“I like you intact.” 

Without hesitation, he turns to the board and flicks a knife toward it. It hits dead center. “You have to throw it confidently. And always watch it because it can bounce back.” 

Standing tall where he stood, I take a deep breath and throw a knife at the board. Though not centered it sticks.

“I’m impressed. The first one I ever threw bounced right off and hit me in the thigh.” 

Soap exclaimed, “Ooohoohoo, I think I found something.”

I return the knives back to him and he grasps my hands with his black skeleton laced glove. He squeezes it gently before letting go.

Soap, distracted by our subtle flirting, says. “No Scotch but this will do.” 

“Careful, soldier,” Ghost starts, “we have to be in top shape to get her out of here.” 

“LT, we’re not gonna get pissed off of one shot. C’mon.”

Soap finds four small taste test flutes from the same crate and sets them down on the steel table.

“Tequila? Bloody hell.” Typical Brit, I think.

“Well what did you expect in Mexico?” Alejandro jokingly said.

Soap poured the tequila into the four flutes. Rudy and Alejandro take one. Soap extends one out to Ghost. 

“Tequila tastes like dog piss.”

“I’ll have it,” I said. 

Soap looked at me, perplexed, but handed me the unwanted drink.

“Cheers,” Soap said and lifted his glass for our drinks to clink.  

“Actually,” I said, taking back my flute, “it’s salud.”

“My bad. Salud,” Soap corrected himself. 

Rudy and Alejandro say salud. Rudy, Alejandro, and I take it down easily, though it burns, Soap struggles to take it down as some of it sputters from his mouth. LT huffs. 

“Soap, didn’t think some tequila would take you out.” 

“I'm not used to drinking this. Prefer a Scotch.” 

“English and their drinks,” I laughed. 

“‘Scuse me, I’m not English,” Soap corrected. “Scottish.” 

“Is there a difference?” I say to stir him up. 

Ghosts chuckles. My stomach fluttered. 

“Seriously, LT?” Soap said. “You’re supposed to have my back.”

“Can’t blame the girl, she’s got some fire in her.”

Rudy decided to take the night watch. The three men talked about the small little things they missed while they were away from home. Soap said he missed his family. Alejandro missed his mother’s food and family. Ghost didn’t say anything. 

“I miss my mom,” I blurted out. 

“Do you mind me asking, Rosie. What happened to her?” Soap asked. 

“My father killed her.” 

Silence.

“She was having an affair with one of my father’s men. I remember it. He shot her himself, did you know that? He made me watch. Told me that, ’That’s what happens when you turn out to be a whore’ and boom!,” I mimicked a gunshot, “killed her right then and there. He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t cry. That stain was there for a whole week. He’s a fucking hypocrite because he would spend all his time at whorehouses…”

It got quiet. I didn’t notice that tears fell from my eyes until I felt them crawling down my chin. I felt stupid. None of them wanted to hear this sob story. I've never talked to anyone about the death of my mother or how much it hurt. 

“My father made me watch a prostitute die of an overdose,” Ghost said silently. I turned to him. He stared ahead, his already blackened eyes turning sinister. “Piece of shit. Fathers.”

“Fuck sake, Ghost…I didn’t know that.” Soap said.

The conversation died down and we all decided that it was time to get some sleep. 

I had drifted away sitting at the table and awoke to find myself on the floor atop a make-do bed that consisted of just a cape. I looked up to see Ghost looking out the window with binoculars. His cape was missing, the one that I layed on. 

He situated himself to take watch atop the industrial catwalk which was at the same level as the windows overlooking the farm. He sets down the binoculars and looks over to me. I give him a jovial smile. I’m not sure what expression he returns, if any. But he continues to gaze at me for a second longer before looking back at the outside. 

Alejandro, Rudy, and Soap are asleep. I stand, wrapping the cloak around me. It smells like pine. I make my way up the catwalk, slowly approaching, unsure if he’d like my company. 

“This thing is comfortable.” I say jokingly. “I see why you wear it.”

He doesn’t move. Almost like if I hadn’t said anything at all.

“Just because you have daddy issues doesn’t mean you have to be such an ass,” I say.

I begin to make my walk back down and he says, “Wait. Stay.” 

I do.

“There’s no need to be cordial in this job, princess,” He continued. “Just because you’ve been treated like royalty doesn’t mean you’ll have the same treatment with us.”

“I don’t expect to. And you’re wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he doesn’t take his eyes off from the outside estate. 

“You think that I’m doing my father’s bidding. I grew up watching people die because of him. Innocent people. And the only thing I can do is try to make their lives better.”

“What? Pay them with blood money?”

“Okay, yes, blood money,” I grow frustrated. My voice is rising. “But what would you do?”

He takes his eye from his scope and looks at me. 

“You think I don’t trust you?” 

“No. I heard you say that you watched me before the extrusion.”

“I know everything about you, Rosie.” He says my name delicately. “You’re naive…but you have a good heart. And it never ends well for those that get close to me.”

“I understand. But I’ve learned that life is short. There’s not much you can do. I was powerless protecting my mother. I continue living though. I think you have to for those that you lose.” I reach out and lay my hand on this knee. “I’m not scared to take risks.” 

“It’s not that easy, princess.” He grows frustrated but so do I. 

“Rosie, first of all, and I know it’s not. Why is it hard to trust me?”

He didn’t answer my question. He takes a pause, looking intensely at my hand on his knee. 

“Simon…that’s my name. We can start there with trust. Don’t throw out the name all about, though.”

“Thank you,” I say. 

The conversation warms up. He still looks intensely through his scope as he scouts the factory's orchard but his communication excels. I ask him about the equipment he has strapped on. Grenades, ammo, all the sorts. No personal items, though.

He asks me about my life. I tell him my favorite things in life. Movies, ice cream, shows (telenovelas). 

“You’ve never seen Tenant?” He asks shockingly.

“No, should I?”

“Course. Christopher Nolan is bloody brilliant.”

I tell him I’ve never visited England but I would love to.

“If we get you outta here alive,” he says, “maybe I’ll give you a private tour, how does that sound?”

I blush. 

“Private tour? Sounds like a promise.”

Soap wakes from his slumber. We both watch him make his way up to us and he returns a bewildered look. 

“I’ll take it from here, Ghost,” Soap says with a smirk. “Why don’t the two get some shuteye, aye?”

We walk back down and I separate from Simon to my own corner. He tells me to keep the cape. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon” I whisper to LT. I don’t think he hears me.

“Sweet dreams, Rosie.” 

Simon sits against the wall and crosses his arms. I lie on the ground with the cape wrapped around me. I drift away.

To be continued…

[lunacat777]

Continuing Mission: Songbird

Hi everyone! Going to post the second part soon, I just wanted to edit some more of the first post. Hope people are enjoying so far!

[lunacat777]

Lol didn’t even realize that I had a ghost AirPods case

[lunacat777]

Part 1 Mission: Songbird (Simon "Ghost" Riley fan fiction)

Hi everyone!

I wanted to jump on the opportunity to write some Simon “Ghost” Riley fanfiction. It’s a slow burner but than it gets smutty. It’s kind of bad writing because I was rushing. Hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: Over 18+ only, death, death, and some traumatizing events and retellings.

Chapter 1:

Aftermath

The raid was over and a few dozen men dead, the city had felt more deadlier than before. Las Almas had initially believed that it was a rival cartel that was behind the massacre but come to find out it was the U.S. Military.

My father, drug lord, Carlos Villalobos, had come by this information from one of his young spies. The eight year old boy said that on that very same night, the U.S. military were hunting down a man. The boy had seen him, actually. The man they were hunting, whom wore the same combat attire, but vastly different. The man wore a skull mask, his eyes were dark, and wore a black balaclava underneath. He had a British flag emblem on the front of his kevlar. “Phantasma.”

My father had many people under his control but especially the children. They were his little spies who’d go out scouring for whispers and come back for money. It was easy buying people with money, you see. If you doubt that you would not take part, it's a lie. When you have no other choice you must join the system or die. A system that was created by my father.

My father is an evil man. Being in the cartel family was like royalty but not in the way that every girl dreams of. For months now he has tried to marry me off to drug lord’s son in order to create an alliance. My father was a power hungry shark and if that meant selling me off, so be it. He had begun making deals with terrorists and Russians. I had animosity for it all...and I had begun to grow fear as he alliances himself with them. When I said that you have to join the system or die from it, I wasn't sure what my own fate would be.

I hear my father’s plans. He doesn’t know that I do but I find my way through the cracks, the doors, windows, any possible way to listen. Why? I wasn't sure but I had to. My father believed that it wasn't customary for a woman to join in on 'business'. That’s when I find out that he’s been veiling terrorists. This is what had sealed my fate.

Everyone calls me La Princessa. But my name is Rosalina. All of Las Almas know who I am and go out of their way for me. They do so out of fear. I started noticing this when I grew older. I didn’t want people to treat me on the basis of fear. I hated it. Though my father had bribed citizens with hush money, I tried my best to help honestly with whatever capability I had.

I didn’t have any friends. The only people I had were the nannies and the ladies that took care of the home.

Father sends me off with money sometimes to go shopping so I could show graciousness to the people of Las Almas. I do his bidding but what else can I do? I wanted so desperately to leave, I wished every night. It was silly but I wanted someone to come rescue me. Who'd known that today was the day.

I saw a vendor that I recognized. An older woman in her 80’s selling beautiful leather satchels. Her family struggles as they travel from a rural village close by to sell her artisan works.

“Cuanto,” I asked. How much?

“Cien pesos,” 100 pesos.

I gladly take out the money and hand her a little bit more than the asking price. She attempts to deny it but I refuse. I told her that it’s for her family, to heal her husband, medicine that he needs for his heart. With glistening eyes, she agrees and takes it.

I’ve had enough of wandering around the city and decide to go back to my hacienda. The two men that are with me, Mario and Juan, escort us back to the black Ram truck that we arrived in. There are two other cars filled with a couple men as backup. One of the SUVs goes ahead, we follow them, and the other right behind us. I sit in the back as Juan drives and Mario sits in the passenger seat. They start talking about the women they’ve been seeing. Saying that they’re asking so much nowadays.

“A las chicas les gustan las flores, no domas su valor”, I say. Ladies love flowers, just not your valor. They laugh. I stay quiet.

We're driving through the dirt road when all of a sudden there is an explosion that jolts the air. I turn and see that the car following behind has erupted in flames. Mario tells me to get down. I cover myself with my arms but that’s when I hear them. A sound I’ve heard before. A hail of gunfire raining down. I scream. This is where I die. This is where I will die because of my father.

We can get out of this situation, I think. We have to. I look up quickly in time to see Mexican military vehicles are following close behind. The car in front turns to the right and comes to a halt meeting with the pursuing vehicles. Over the radio, reinforcement is yelling for Juan to keep heading north. They stay behind and trade fire with the military.

“Who the hell are those guys?” Mario says.

Ahead, more military vehicles. Except their not Mexican. “¡Culeros, son los Americanos!”

Juan takes a sharp left and we drive into the fields. A military vehicle drives up and slaws us on the side. The window shatters sending glass shards of glass over my lap. I'm wearing a sundress, my thighs are exposed, and the glass digs into my skin.

“Te dije que te conviertes!” I told you to take cover!

“What are the Americans doing here?” I yell.

Juan gets back on the dirt road. Ahead there’s two military vehicles that Juan doesn’t notice until it’s too late. They sprawl spike strips across the road. We run them over and we flip. Multiple times. A whirlwind of smoke, glass, and dirt. The car stops rolling but we end up in the worst possible place. A shallow pond.

The water begins to fill up fast because of the open window. I gasp as the icy water touches my skin. I reach for the seat belt retractor but it won’t come undone. I begin to panic. Juan is unconscious and a large wound gaps from the side of his head.

“Are you okay?” Mario asks groggily.

Mario sees the water filling up fast. He takes out his hunting knife and cuts himself loose. As he climbs over me he was shot in the head. I scream.

The car sank deeper. It was about a third full of water now. I begun hyperventilating. I was grasping the last bit of air I could, clawing at the seatbelt. The seatbelt held me down tight like a straightjacket. I extended out my arm for Mario’s knife that had floated in the water but couldn’t reach. The air in my lungs tightened. The car was fully submerged and my head was underwater. I could hear nothing but my heart thumping against my chest.

Thud, I looked to my left and there was a large man in combat attire, wearing a skull mask, punching the glass window. La Phantasma. He was trying to break it open. No avail. The green water threatened to break through my lungs. I started seeing black dots. The man in the skull mask brought up his gun toward the window. This is where I die. Either from drowning or being shot. I couldn't hold it any longer and water began filling my lungs one gulp at a time. I blacked out.

Everything was dark and cold. It felt still, like being in a frigid womb. Then suddenly, a hot wind swept me up and I…

Gasp! I began to cough. My airways burned as if I’d inhaled acid. My chest hurts and I look up. I was surrounded by a group of men. They all wore combat attire.

“She’s comin’ round,” one of them said in a Scottish accent. The man had a small mohawk in the middle of his head. Gray eyes and he too had a British flag emblem on his chest.

“What are you? American or English?” I groaned. My eyes burned, the sun was high and its rays beaming down. My head felt that it would burst. I was drenched. My dress stuck to my body like wet tissue paper. You could see me. All of me.

“Doesn’t matter right now.” The Scottish begrudgingly.

“Please, I don’t have anything.” I begged.

“We’re not after you, Princessa,” a hispanic man appeared. “We’re after your papi.”

“Kill him,” I said. “I wouldn’t give two shits. Fucking psychopath deserves it.”

I hugged my chest in order to keep myself composed. I sat up and that's when I saw him. The man still sported his skull mask. He wore black camouflage with denim jeans, and wrapping around his shoulders a cap. I didn’t know what was happening. They had taken out all of my father’s men but kept me alive.

“Why’d you save me then?” I asked. It was mostly directed to the skull-wearing man.

“You’re worth a lot to Uncle Sam right now,” He grunted. His English accent was gravely, resonant. The man had not taken off his skull mask but instead lifted his balaclava enough to expose his lower face. He had a strong jawline and thin Cupid's bow shaped lips. He was panting heavily.

“Then kill me after I tell you everything? No way,” I said.

“They’re offering you freedom,” the hispanic man said in Spanish.

I couldn’t believe it. All of them were looking at me anticipatingly. “You’d get me away from here?”

I looked at the Scottish man. He nodded.

“We gotta move,” the skull-wearing man grunted. “I think they’ll realize soon that she's gone missing.”

He was very tall, at least 6”. I couldn’t help but find him alluring. As I was inspecting him, I was brought up to my feet by the hispanic man. There were dozens of Los Vaqueros surrounding us. Vehicles awaited for us. The phantasma climbed in before I did.

“Get in, princess , your chariot awaits,” the Scottish man said. The cars pull out and we chase the sunset.

Chapter 2:

Mission Songbird

The hispanic man, I found out, is Alejandro. He’s the famous leader I’ve heard about Los Vaqueros.

“I’ve heard of you,” I said. “You’ve been chasing my father since I was a little girl.”

“You’re keen on letting us kill your dad. Why?” He asks.

“He’s the devil,” I simply say.

They escorted me to a secure location. Someplace I’ve never been to, deep in the forest. Central Mexico has a forest that expands for a few miles out from the state of Jalisco. We walked into a warehouse filled with crates of what I assumed were ammunition and supplies.

“If your father knows that you’re helping the Americans, he’s gonna put a target on your head,” he said.

“I know,” I said grimly.

He looked saddened but understandable. I noticed in the corner of my eye that the phantasma was looking at me. I couldn’t read him with his mask on. I could read people very well and his disguise made it infuriating. Maybe that's the whole point. I notice that my dress is see-through.

“Can I have some fresh clothes? If you have any. I don’t think this dress is equipped for this sort of thing.”

They hand me a thick black hoodie and some camo pants. They were actually quite comfortable except for the kevlar vest they had told me to put on. It was heavy. Before putting on the pants, though, I discovered a large gash on my right thigh.

“That’ll need to be stitched up,” The Scottish man said. “I’ll go ahead and do it. Don’t want anyone else to fuffle.”

He retrieved a med kit and had me situated on a table. He took some chlorhexidine and a gauge to clean the wound. Taking a needle and thread he began stitching up the wound.

“It’ll sting,” he says.

I shrug. He continues and it’s not the worst feeling but unpleasant. I don’t make a face.

“Tough one, aren’t you?”

“Can I ask you something or is that not allowed for captors?” I say.

“We’re here to make sure that you make it out alive. I wouldn’t call you a captor per say.” He said jokingly. “What’s your question?”

“Who’s that in the mask?” I tilt my head toward the direction of the phantasma.

“Good old, Ghost. He’s the reason you’re alive. He took a splosh for you when you went in the water.”

“I’ll remember to thank him.”

“Don’t let him intimidate ya,” he was close to finishing up the wound.

“Why does he wear that mask?”

“Why do the Mexican military cover their faces?” he asked in return.

“Obviously I know why, but why a skull?”

“He moves like a ghost. He evades everything and everyone he needs to. He managed to get the both of us alive out of Las Almas during that raid. He’s dangerous, so don’t try to do anything you might regret.”

“I don’t know what will convince you all that I’m not loyal to my father. I never was.”

“How is that you got all that information, then?”

“I’m like a ghost. I move around and hear things no one wants you to hear.”

This made him chuckle.

“My name’s Soap by the way,” he finished and stood.

“Nice to meet you, Soap. Thank you.”

“No problem, princess.”

“No, please, I hate that name. Call me Rosie.”

He nodded and walked over to Ghost who happened to be looking at us. His black shadowed eyes held on me until Soap called his name. The tension broke when he finally looked away.

To be continued…