Yandere Ghost - Tumblr Posts

Yandere Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Warnings: Yandere behavior, military, talks about human trafficking and assault (NOT BY GHOST!), slightly talks about his past; dedicated to the comics, death/abuse, alcohol, and brief talk about drugging. 

A/N: this isn't my best work, I sorta hate it. But I decided to upload this due to my writing block; please enjoy :] (this also isn't proofread.)

This gif belongs to @daniel-bruehl. The other icons belong to @yumethefrostypanda. They are not mine! Please support them :).

Ghost’s yandere behaviors consist of being very protective, possessive, and very observant to you. He’s the type of person that you wouldn’t expect to fall for you due to his stoic and harsh natur.

A few possible ways how Simon met you was when you were a victim he saved from a harsh environment. Finding you locked in a cage with dried blood, dirt, and ripped clothing; watching you grow from a shy, timid, and scared survivor to a kind, strong, and loving individual; taking a step back into society with his help.

Or you could be a medic that was placed into the team by Price, helping along the injured while helping out Soap and him after missions in the med bay; bandaging their wounds while Johnny threw jokes and flirts around.

Or… you could be already on the team, working alongside with the rest 141 on the long-ass missions. At a rare moment, you had saved Ghost from getting shot, whether that was you bandaging him up when he told you ‘I’m fine’, or keeping him company in the uncomfortable dark room. You were interacting with him, throwing jokes and forcing him to talk into normal conversations that he wasn’t used to.

Even since that day, Ghost had felt something with you — a type of connection that was too hard to ignore and that forced him to continuously see you after every mission, sitting beside you in the group car or in the same room to have hours upon hours of catch-up conversations that normally he wouldn’t engage in. Yet, you had every interesting hobby that he learned to love, asking question after question to get to know you better.

His obsession would start to reveal itself more the minute you were injured; causing him to get more protective. Ghost’s is following right behind you, making sure that you were paired with him at missions and hung out with him most of the time.

Speaking of following, Ghost has a tendency of stalking you and following right behind you like a guard dog; making sure nobody hurts or messes with you. This makes a lot of interaction outside of the team… quite hard. I mean, who would want to approach someone who has a 6’4” man with a terrifying glare of judgment, wearing a skull mask standing right behind them? Nobody would.

He’s always behind you, towering over you to stare down anyone who dares to try to speak to you or be rude to you. Talking about the topic of people being rude, these soldiers…. normally don’t last long; usually coming up in the folders as M.I.A.

Ghost would kidnap you within a few months (2-4 max). Now, you’re probably wondering how this would work? Well, Simon has a lot of potential as a Lieutenant, he’s able to control you and face you with things that would force you out of the field. He could falsey frame you of something, put down on paper that you have severe trauma, or an injury that’s now incapable of fixing and you need to be flown off the team; nobody would think twice, they’d believe him and wish you the best on your future travels.

He promises the team to get you home safe. He watches you from afar, seeing you sigh in frustration while packing your gear; Ghost understands your upset — angered even. It breaks his heart but he knows it’s the best for the two of you.

Once in the car, you two drive off. However, Ghost had promised that it would be best for you to move into a safe house with him, using the excuse of “you’d be safer” and “I can take care of you to ensure you won’t get hurt”.

If you decide to react erratically, whether that’s yelling at him, or simply trying to attack him (key word: try), it would end up pretty ‘calm’. Ghost would simply cover your mouth with a dosed cloth, muffling your curses and screams that you threw at him; watching your face become dizzy with the medicine he prescribed.

When you wake up, Ghost is sitting in the corner, watching you like a wolf ready to pounce on a scared rabbit; though, he’d never bite. The bed is fairly warm, quite big (king sized) with a bunch of pillows and comforters. The entire room is decorated neatly, your bags against the wall as well as a giant window.

Although, you’re not chained to the bed. Simon uses his strength and intimidating height to make sure you stay put. Hurting him won’t really do anything, or trying too at least; go ahead, punch, kick, or bite him, it won’t work as he’s already 3 steps ahead of you.

While Ghost knows that you’re gonna have a hard time adjusting, he does trust you to a certain point. He allows you freely roam in the cabin out in the far mountains, wanting you to admire the place with its natural beauty; smiling with the thought of you feeding the soon farm-animals. However, the entire house is riddled with traps, either to catch you from running or kill any enemies that are on sight.

On the topic of running, If you decide to try to run, you’re immediately caught within a few minutes. Ghost can read your body language thoroly, he can tell when you’re about to attack him, or ready to get up and run to grab the butter knife in the kitchen.

Though, if he’s on a mission and you decide to run away from the cabin, you’ll be found within a day or two; even if Ghost has been gone on a mission for a month or two. I will say, you will have a hard time the first day, at least ‘surviving’ and running away. Ghost purposely made it so that the cabin is away in the high mountains, deep forests, and covered in high-tec security cameras throughout the entire area.

Simon is severely possessive and protective. Due to his abused past, he’s extremely paranoid all the time; always has a handgun near him, and a combat knife in his back pocket while waiting to hear glass shatter from the enemies. He fears you’ll get hurt all the time, which means that you’re pretty much watched… 24/7.

This means that he’s also implanted camera’s all along the house (including the bathroom) and a tracker in you while you were sleeping.

Speaking of sleeping, Ghost has a hard time going to bed, either being plagued by nightmares from his childhood or imagining the gruesome deaths of you, causing him to stay up and watch over you.

It’s likely he'll get you a guard dog for when he’s not there for you; specifically an Akita or Doberman Pinscher breed. He would make sure it would be trained very well, answers commands well, and would guide you if you were ever in a stressful situation.

Affection with him is a bit… off. While he does crave it, he has a hard time accepting it; all his life has been plagued with violence and abuse, at this point, Simon has convinced himself he doesn’t deserve it.

Gentle touches with him make him feel something — heart fluttering with uncertainness. Simon is truly a softy with you. He melts into your touch, allowing his vulnerability and muscles to relax, rubbing his head into your neck as he kisses it.

While Ghost has taken you, he still allows you to keep contact with family and friends; catching up in conversations over the phone while he’s near you to hear what you’re talking about.

Seeing your family and friends is a tough topic with him. While he does understand that you need socialization, and you may not get it as much while he’s gone, he absolutely hates seeing you talk/or visit with anyone else; fear rumbling in his stomach.

The only way to really make Simon ‘agree’ with these terms is if you let him come along with you and make sure you have a sharpened knife, radio, and loaded gun on you; even then, he’d still follow you around like a lost puppy.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

In abstance of my (second) favorite reader - A thread of fast food worker reader and the haunted establishment that has attached itself to them.

-

[A customer walks up to the counter after seeing Reader in the close ballpit face down]

Customer: Um, excuse me- don't you think it's inappropriate for a grown adult to be ballpit like that

Your coworker: Ma'am- please. It's site policy that they have to lay in the ballpit each day for at least twenty minutes so we don't have another missing person's incident.

You, getting a full body massage by the dozens of hands in the pit: This is the only reason I keep this job.

-

A coworker with a crush tries to console you after you get harrassed by a customer: Don't worry, Y/n- I'll protect you!

You: Let's hope you're not like the last one and fall victim to the Weeper

Coworker: the what-

[A hooded figure bangs on the restaurant doors]: Please... Let me in. It hurts so much. I just want to see my spouse again. It's been so long..

Coworker: Oh no, I'll let you in-

You: I didn't leave you, asshole! You keep leaving deer kidney's on the tables when I let you in!

The figure: ...you don't eat enough during your lunch break

-

[The restaurant's mascot walks out of the breakroom and hands you and other coworkers something before walking off]

Coworker: He... gave me a burger? That's nice of him... I guess.

You: Don't eat that. Whenever he hands those out the person in question goes missing.

Coworker: Then what does what he gave you mean?

You, holding a bouquet of roses: I don't wanna talk about it

I take my yandere possessed vibrator idea back... yandere possessed dildo because imagining that fly at you when you try leaving the house for any reason is very amusing to me

It’s be even funnier if it was one of those thrusting ones 😭😭 IMAGINE TRYING TO SLEEP AND ITS THRUSTING INTO YOUR CHEEK

Imagine a ghost/ demon that’s obsessed with you but they cannot touch you, so they possess your sex toys.

You often find your vibrators and dildos thrusting and vibrating just a bit stronger than before. You’ve never had toe curling orgasms with them before but now it’s a common occurrence. Hell, even sitting on your washing machine gets the job done.

And you just can’t figure out why every inanimate object you’ve had a sexual encounter with is ten times stronger… until you try to go on a date and your dildo slaps you in the head.

Were you being haunted? Were you being haunted by a nymphomaniac?

Who’s in charge now?

A comeback of an oldie! I do recommend reading this part here first before diving into this new one, but please enjoy the smutty side-effect of being haunted!

Fandom: Original Work Pairings: Yandere!Ghost x AFAB!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con, Cunnilingus, Lots of tongue but also touching and teeth mention, Biting and scratching mention, Fluids, Penetrative Sex, Orgasms, Overstimulation, Public indecency, Doing it in front of someone while that person is unaware), Manipulation, Gaslighting, Degradation, Possessiveness, Mention of Exorcism

Prompt:  @sintember No one will believe you - There’s no one to help, no one to trust, do you even believe yourself?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Forcing your legs to close, you were met with the invisible mass between them pushing back, resisting your attempts, and instead sending out his long tongue to drag between your thighs. The newly put-on underwear was instantly soaked in its drool, and it let out a husky laugh as you mewled under your breath, your whole body shaking against the table.

“Are you alright?” Eli asked, barely looking up from their phone. The only reason they were alarmed by what was going on out of their sight was that their cereal bowl was shaking almost as much as you. Gripping the table, you tried to control yourself before looking up at them, their gaze lazily falling from you to their phone again as they shrugged it off as a nervous tick you were emitting. It was way too early to be fully awake and alert to their surroundings, so Eli wasn’t truly concerned about all the fluids leaking down your chair and dripping to the ground.

“They don’t believe youuu~” the ghost lolling his tongue over your sex purred. By the missing reaction from Eli, you had no choice but to believe they really didn’t see or hear the ghost like you did, much less feel its presence right in front of them. Clenching your fists, you took deep breaths, your sensitive flesh so receptive to every blow of air the ghost breathed and the torturous pleasure that had been haunting you all night long.

Keep reading

Could you do headcanons about platonic yandere ghostbur and revivebur with a child reader? And can the reader be the same one from the Wilbur with a child reader headcanons

Triggers: mention of stalking, mention of near death, mention of slight possessive behaviors, and mild yandere like behaviors. Safe for all to read. Mainly wholesome.

Enjoy.

Ghostbur

Honestly, Ghostbur with a child darling is like the most wholesome and confusing thing you will ever see.

You, as a child (7-10), don't know anything about the world.

And Ghostbur, being a ghost who lost his memories, also doesn't know anything about the world.

Some would even go as far to say that he himself is even a child.

Sure Ghostbur knows what's dangerous, how to craft, use weapons, and ect.

But social wise, he is about as useful as an inside out umbrella on a rainy day.

So this is going to be an adventure for the both of you.

~

So how did you two meet?

Well, Ghostbur was taking a nice walk around the SMP, when he saw a kid.

A kid that was about to fall into a deep hole.

WAIT-

A KID ABOUT TO FALL INTO A DEEP HOLE?!

Yep.

That was his thought process, right before he flew over to you, and quickly pulled you back.

"Oh my XD! Are you okay?! You're not hurt are you?!"

He would say it multiple times until you answer.

But you were just yanked away from your likely demise, and your child brain can only handle so much.

So least to say it scared him when you had a lack of response.

But when you did finally reply, Ghostbur was relieved.

Though the quiet only lasted so long before he started to interrogate you out of worry.

"Where are your parents?!"

"Do they know you're out here?!"

"Why were you standing so close to the edge of that hole?!"

"How did you get here?"

"Where are you from?"

"Where do you live?"

"How old are you?"

"What's your name?"

"Where can we find your parents?"

These questions and so much more were tossed in your direction.

You were barely able to answer one, before another one was thrown your way.

So in the end, all you replied with was:

"I...I don't know."

And with this, Ghostbur was completely stunned.

~

After finding out that you don't remember your parents, Ghostbur will let you live with him.

This relationship will consist more of an inexperienced with children uncle and his niece/nephew/gender neutral term for that.

Ghostbur will have this overwhelming need to be very protective of you, but in a gentle manner.

Unlike a romantic darling, Ghostbur doesn't want your attention on him 24/7.

But he still does watch from afar.

Whenever you're out playing with the animals of a forest, or children villagers, he watches you with hawk eyes.

And the instant any danger threatens to appear, Ghostbur is bringing you back home.

He'll likely keep you inside for the next day or so, just to make sure you're safe.

~

The people he allows you to hang out with are a lot more versatile compared to the other DSMP members.

He allows you to hang out with the following:

Niki

Tubbo

Tommy (while supervised)

Ranboo

Ph1lza

Technoblade

~

Ghostbur is a fairly disorganized being, so your growing up will be a bit messy.

But he tried his best to keep a schedule with you.

Don't be surprised if you have Ph1lza around a lot to help get you and his life in order.

What about an education?

Well, Techno is obviously your history teacher.

And...Ph1lza is everything else.

Hey!

They try though.

~

Ghostbur's main house rules are:

1- Be home by dark

2- Don't hang out with anyone your not allowed to

3- Tell him when your leaving/coming home

4- Always have a knife on you

5- Sundays are family days

6- use common sense.

~

In short: Living/having Ghostbur as a guardian is fairly laid back, except for the constant feeling of being watched. He isn't as possessive or bad as the others. 8/10.

Word count: 633

_________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Main Headcannons

Exorcist darling

Trans Male S/O

Harmless yandere darling

Child darling (platonic)

Forehead kisses

Domain traveler (God! Ghostbur)

Trapped in the backrooms?!

yandere!köing x reader x yandere!ghost (also yandere!soap???) fighting for darlings attention is funny to me and idky

Imagine the chaos it must be, constantly surrounded by three deranged men trying to get your attention and you just want to mind our own business.

(And there will be blood for sure, in my opinion I think Ghost would win because... Well, it's Ghost.)

Someone is knocking at your door... You carefully check who is it through the peephole and you see a man wearing a skull mask staring at you.

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 

Then he got lonely. 

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 

— I didn’t ask for the tea. 

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 

— You’re flattering me, sir. 

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 

— If you say so. 

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself. 

— Why you work as a servant? 

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 

— I…have damage, sir. 

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 

— What is it? 

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 

— Doin’ a good job, love. 

— I hope so, sir. 

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 

— You don’t smell me, then? 

— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2426 Ch.1

The Knight is a weird one. 

He is looking at you – studying you with his eyes, ever prying, even seeing. He never blinks and you think he doesn’t need it – a walking corpse wouldn’t care to keep his eyes wet, to let his head down and take a few deep breaths to relieve himself. Then, again, a real walking corpse wouldn’t need a maiden to claim and take, a warm body to bring relief to his manhood. You wouldn’t be so sure that he is a walking corpse, a resurrected warrior – the legends are often false, after all, and wild guesses of prostitutes are not to be trusted. 

Not like you would know either way – the only path to reveal his not-death is to smell the rot from his skin and, well, it’s out of your reach. The sickness of a few years ago rendered you completely unable to smell anything – you aren’t sure if it’s a blessing in disguise now. Ghost – his name, you think, you heard, the whispers and gossip from the girls who worked alongside you – have been watching you sleep the whole night after he claimed you for the first time. You know because, well, you were watching him too, unable to fall asleep. Not with the gaze that made your blood freeze in your veins. Not with the knowledge that this man can just suck the life out of you, like he did with many of his enemies. You don’t know about this fact, of course – but you don’t want to come and try if the gossips are true. You feel sore, down there. It should be normal for a woman who works in a place like this – but you weren’t a prostitute. Never got interest from men who will pay a lot for a night with a beautiful woman, you were content with simply serving the patrons and the highest bidding girls. Turns out, the sex is…weird. Wet. Painful, but not quite. The Knight was generous in his offers, even as you tried to convince him you didn’t deserve any of it. That you were here just to serve tea, not to… “Lay still, luv. Do you not know what to do?” He pushed a pillow under your hips, making your back arch like a cat in heat. You were presented to him – involuntarily, with his large hands crowding your waist and putting you right where he wanted. Your legs spread and your womanhood glossy from arousal – you knew your fair share of what it comes when a man and a woman share the bed, but you never managed to get into it. To get a man to put something in you, that it. You felt foolish ever coming to the room he rented all for himself. For not running away the second you were put here like a lamb to the slaughter. “I’m not a c…courtesan, kind sir, this is all a…” He pushed his mouth on yours – his mask lifted just barely to let you see the light stubble and scars on his broad, chiseled jaw – before you even managed to finish. His tongue went all out, licking and sucking, making you whimper in the kiss that wasn’t your first, but surely took the crown of being the most memorable one. Surely, cursed knights had no idea about common courtesy. “Good. Wouldn’t hear jabs from Johnny then.” You don’t know who that was but, for some reason, you felt like a dog suddenly brushed against your hand. Perhaps, the lack of air from the steamy kisses made you delirious” But, it was before. Now, with his head propped on one of his hands as he was lying on his side, observing you quietly, like a predator in hiding. His other hand is caressing your shoulder, sometimes going further to play with your hair – surely, he didn’t care for the possibility of waking you up. Maybe, he knows you aren’t sleeping. Maybe, he got his fill and would let you go now. — You need to sleep. The road to my estate is a long one. You drop your act immediately, knowing it is pointless. Perhaps, you should have tried to be an actor instead of a brothel servant – would give you much more useful skills. — Your estate..? Maybe, he was so impressed with your tea-making skills, that he would invite you to be his maid. You may have lost your virtue, but it’s not like you’re interested in marriage anyway. You can live a quiet life, not dealing with anything too harsh, while receiving a nice salary working for the knight. Honorable job, stable job. Something that you should strive for. — You aren’t a courtesan. It sounded like a statement – and besides, you were telling him this before. There is no way he could have mistaken your common, grey clothing with rich gowns that expensive courtesans are wearing. Your manners are off too – the man would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to think that they would send you to him as a girl for entertainment, not servitude. — I’m not, sir. 

— Do you have family? 

— Do you? He laughs at your unexpected bravery. You close your eyes, expecting something – a kick in the face, perhaps, as many nobles love to do with servants who aren’t polite enough. Maybe, you wait for him to denounce you and finally leave you alone. Maybe, you wait for everything to just be a dream, a beautiful one with steamy scenes straight up from the romantic novels you sneaked out to read. But Ghost is as real as a bed you are sitting on. His hands are on your face, but not in a way you’d come to expect from a man of his position. He is caressing your skin, playing with hair that fell out on your cheeks – and you swear you can see his eyes crinkle with a smile when you struggle to maintain eye contact, your head suddenly feeling heavy and sleepy. Perhaps, the night activities did wear you off. Not enough to make you lower your guars though. — Yes, luv. You’re going to be a part of it. He sounds…sad. Broken, almost. You try to remember all of the rumors you heard about the undead knight, but the only thing you’re capable of thinking about is his resurrection – surely, it would mean he doesn’t have a living family anymore, right? For some bizarre, incredibly weird reason, you reach out for his hand. Not with your palm, too exhausted to actually lift it – but with your face, tilting your head to the side as you press your forehead against his hand in a cat-like manner. His fingers get lost in playing with your hair immediately, and you fight the desire to purr. What a weird sequence of events he brought upon you. He pats your head for a few minutes, allowing you two to sit in silence. You quite like it. — You can’t marry a commoner. 

— This isn’t a position for your opinion, doll. — But the madam… — Your madam can push your debt up her snobby arse. I would be bloody glad to end this whole place in a fire. You laugh involuntarily. Surely, he means it – just one look at his eyes reveals a man deeply wounded by the fact, that not even the amount of money he has or the status he holds as the greatest knight of the kingdom will but him affection. Some things cannot be done even for money – and not a single woman in the brothel would lower herself to sleeping with a walking corpse, resurrected by the most evil power in the continent. It’s a good thing you can’t sense the stench of death – and to you, Ghost is just a man. A man with big hands, cold body, and little crinkles in his eyes when he looks at you, so weak and whimpering. A man with money and power, who can get you away from this place. Surely, changing one cage for the other won’t make much of a difference – but you can trade freedom for comfort, especially when the alternative neither brings your freedom nor comfort. There isn’t a single woman who would change her place with you. You find solace in that. 

— You can’t just take me away. All of my life is here. — Bloody shitty life you got ‘ere. You will be better off with me. 

— As your conqubine? 

— As my wife. 

Oh. You can’t exactly argue with this proposal. *** He rides you on his horse for the whole day – and it isn’t at all romantic as you thought it would be based on the books. No one has ever written just how smelly horses are – how scary of a creature riders are mounting, and how hard it is to sit on your ass for a whole day. For some reason, you were expecting a carriage – but a lone knight wouldn’t be traveling with an escort, you think. No matter how much of an influence he has over this country. 

You were thinking about running away for a few times – when he was making stops to let the horse rest and would slip you on the ground, allowing your agonizing limbs to stretch out a bit. You could escape easily when he got distracted with something – but then you thought about forests, bandits, and the trajectory that your life has taken. You may not like being a pried possession of a dead man, but he by far isn’t the cruelest one out here. Many other patrons of the whore house are much, much worse. 

He slips you on his lap when you finally get to a place where you can eat and sleep in peace – his mansion is as big as they come, you think, but the desire to explore is cut short by his hands on your hips. Reminding you of your place like you didn’t already get it the first time. You stir in your place, uncomfortable when he is pushing you down on his throbbing erection – how this could even ride a horse if the only thing on his mind was your soft body pressed against his, your helpless form clinging to him like he was the only protector here. 

Ghost is supposed to be on the good side – not an Empire soldier, at the very least, he isn’t taking crying innocent trophies from the battlefield and throwing them in his harem. He doesn’t even have a bloody harem, all the women – and men alike – disgusted by the stench of death he cannot wash away no matter the hours he spends in the bath. But you, pretty maiden waiting for him at this brothel of yours, aren’t like others. Maybe it’s a blessing – maybe the gods finally answered all of his threats and sent him the prettiest angel they had. 

No matter, he is still going to make sure to use you properly. Slowly, Ghost picks up food and feeds you – and if he can judge, you aren’t exactly enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. Probing, touching – you whimper when he pushes a piece of fruit past your lips. Poor thing, he thinks – you need to learn how to treat him with respect. With love, even more, as he wants for you to like him no matter how hard it could be for a dumb little you. — You shouldn’t feed me like this, sir. You’re so polite, so king – the first time a maiden was king to someone like him. The first time a girl isn’t screaming in his hold, trashing, and crying as she feels his hands roaming up her body. Gods, you’re perfect – he can’t wait to introduce you, finally shutting Soap for good. Finally getting something good for himself, after all the years of pure shit. Just wait – he can make an honest woman out of you. Give you estate, money, give you his status and the treatment of a royalty. If Price would feel generous, you’d be a duchess in no time. And, oh he knows, Price will be generous. 

— Why not? 

Just one look at your open mouth, glossy from drool, at your trembling lips, made him harder than before. He was denied mortal pleasures for so long, he forgot how soft women are – how pretty they look while sitting on his lap. No woman would approach him after the damn Emperor decided to resurrect him – but you don’t have a choice on the matter. But you don’t behave like you want to run away, at least. He wants to think that you will like it here – not because he truly cares about your opinion, but because you’d become sweeter. — It would be a waste. I can’t taste much of anything. 

Ah. The lack of smell – he remembers. Poor girl, he thinks, not only did you spend your life serving the courtesans and patrons at the brothel, but you also did so without taking any pleasure in nice fragrances or tasty food. Such a miserable girl – tough luck that you ended up with him, where he physically cannot feel pity for you. 

— Hm. There is a downside to your affliction.

— Many people would consider the lack of smell itself a downside. — Not me. You’re perfect. No one has even told you you’re perfect. Not like this, at least. You see a jaded soldier sitting you on his lap, his hands are holding the fat of your hips and kneading it like dough, but his eyes are…warm. Not kind, not gentle, but with the level of obsession that you never thought you’d see in this day and age. You press your head against his chest in a pure instinct – not wanting to be too harsh on your new husband. Not even daring to act like a spoiled brat, even though you were never one to begin with. 

He is a lonely man, you know. Angry and cynical, killed more people than you ever known for your whole life – but it all seems so distant, so unreal now. The killings and the wars and resurrections are something from the children’s books. From dark romance novels that you were reading, not from reality. Reality is that you’re sitting on the lap of a man who took you from working in the worst place you could have. Reality is, that you’re sitting on the lap of a very sad, tortured man who might need something nice. Who might give you something nice in return. 

Hm. 

You might like the sound of that.