DESPERADO {Ghost x f!reader}

2 {Princess}

She finally looks up at the man, and what meets her eyes is peculiar. The man wears all black, the only pop of color being his red skull mask. He seems like a cowboy. He stares down at her from his horse, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. He jumps off his horse, making Y/N scramble away instinctively. He lifts his hands up as he slowly approaches her sitting form, giving her a sense of comfort or safety.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he speaks, his gruff voice and British accent not going unnoticed by Y/N.

For some unknown reason, she decides to trust this stranger in a skull mask, so she doesn't move as he squats in front of her. She keeps staring into his eyes, looking for an indication of anything that could make her not trust him, yet sees nothing. His eyes look beautiful, although tired.

"Why are you out here?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

This question brings tears to her eyes again, and she covers her face with her soiled hands, not wanting him to see her cry. This is enough of a response for the man. Feeling pity for the young woman, he takes off his hat and puts it on her head. She sniffles, removing her hands off her face, only to see a gloved hand in front of her.

"Come on, we need to go."

It's hard for her to look up at the man because of the hat covering most of her line of sight, so she just takes his hand. He hauls her up, making her body crash into his. He holds her in place by placing his hands on her waist, and suddenly lifts her up effortlessly, putting her in the front part of the saddle, and sits right behind her. She feels her heart jump at how close this stranger is to her, whether it be from anxiety or excitement. She had never been this close to a man before.

He grabs the reins and commands the horse to go forward by gently applying pressure to the horse's ribcage with his calves. The horse then begins to walk in the direction of where this mysterious man came from.

After a moment of silence, Y/N speaks.

"Who are you?"

The rider doesn't respond to the question. "I see you're fine now," he grabs the hat off her head and puts it back on his own, leaving her feeling exposed to the world.

"Answer me," she demands. The man stays silent once again. "Please," she begs softly this time.

"Ghost," he answers simply.
"Ghost? I'm sure that's not your real name."
"Does my real name matter? I'm helping you, aren't I?"

She feels his chest brush against her back as he tries to shift his body away from her, which fails.

"What are you doing in the middle of nowhere?" She inquires curiously. In her mind, it's a bit weird for anyone, much less someone dressed like him, to be lurking in the night in such a secluded place.
"None of your business," he responds monotonously.
"It is my business when you're taking me somewhere I don't know."

He suddenly pulls on the reins, making the horse stop. "If you don't trust me, you might as well get off."

She turns to look at him over her shoulder. He's serious. She turns back to look around: trees, bushes, darkness and howling in the distance. She sighs. "Fine, I'll trust you."

He urges the horse to move again and so it does.

They have been on the road for 30 minutes, and neither had exchanged words. She shivers, her ripped nightgown not covering enough of her legs, so her thigh is exposed.

"You're hurt?" Ghost asks, referring to the deep cut on her thigh, the blood has trickled down and dried.

Without saying a word, she brings the other ripped half of the nightgown over her thigh, and holds it on her lap, covering the cut.
Ghost doesn't inquire about what exactly happened, feeling that it's too early to be asking such questions.
He holds the reins in one hand, and with the other he pushes her back against his chest, holding her closer. She doesn't comment, letting him do as he pleases, and instantly feels warmer. She leans her head against his chest, too tired to keep holding it up. After all, she should've been sleeping in her warm bed by now.