Ghost Girlfriend Novels & Stories

I lied about my age and ended up in a secret online relationship with one of the biggest names in esports. He was nothing like his public persona. In public, he was cold and aloof. Online, though, he flirted with me nonstop. When he got worked up, he even said he'd be my good boy. Then my nineteenth birthday came and went, and my wolf still hadn't awakened. Most werewolves shifted for the first time at sixteen. Even late bloomers awakened by eighteen. I couldn’t let Adrian find out I was defective, with no wolf at all. So I broke up with him and blocked him everywhere. Months later, while staying with my best friend Chloe, I heard her older brother speak outside the bedroom. I had heard that

“It’s what we assumed. She did it for money.” “And she’s still breathing?” Ghost asked, his lips stretching to a grin. Rain groaned. “Yes! I promised, and I never broke promises. But she’d probably wake up after two days with a hell of a headache.” She laughed heartily. I’ve never met anyone who enjoys making people suffer more than this chick. Ghost chuckled. “Good girl.” “You know I am your good girl,” I could imagine her batting her eyelashes. I made a gagging sound in my throat, nearly vomiting from their banter. Ghost was fucking pussy whipped. I never thought I’d see this day.

Steve replied. “You can call me Ghost,” Ghost smiled. “When I was younger, I used to get a thousand texts from the ladies and of course I would want to differentiate the important ones from the regular ones with a different chat tone. The one I just heard isn’t very familiar so I figured.” “That’s very smart sir,” Steve laughed. “I mean…Ghost.” “My daughter is telling you to come over tonight because her father is on a business trip isn’t she?” Ghost asked, his eyes fixed on his long nails.

He stood up and walked to where he used to out his books, he took a small but old looking book and came back to where he was sitting, next to me. "I read it in this book , there is a certain theory which say that people might have ghost clones, these clones looks and dresses exactly like the original you and they can do anything you can do. Sometimes if you are lucky you can have a good clone but if you are unlucky you are likely to have a bad and evil clone , which means you are unlucky because yours is evil" he explained. His explanation shocked me , i have never heard such things and I've never believed in ghost theories.

She was turning 20 in few months time and her aim was to live alone and make new friends while she finds out about her parents death. Crystal stood up from her weak scattered looking bed and walked pass her aunt. She was emotionless and had no fear about anything. She quickly did the dishes and when it was time to eat , she ate her food. She lived her Friday as a slave doing a lot of chores on her own. Red was in his room arranging his documents. He had visited his dad's company and had seen how everywhere was a mess. No one knew his true identity because he wasn't putting his mask on as usual. He went to different departments in his dad's company and discovered that A lot of workers were la

I stayed there for a moment, not bothering to take a step forward. I inhaled. Exhaled. Inhaled again. Then I checked my reflection, using my phone screen for the fifth time , no smudged mascara, no leftover tears. Just me. Zoey Blake. Ex-girlfriend of Orion Gritton. I hated that title more than anything. But today, I had no choice but to face it and the people who had watched my humiliation head-on. I finally took a step forward, my white sneakers squeaking on the pavement. My oversized Riverview hoodie almost swallowed me whole. At least it made me feel like I could hide.

The dishes that waited for me on the table were BBQ ribs, chili con carne, sauteed broccoli, and zucchini soup. I shamelessly polished everything off again. After freeloading like this for three days straight, I started to feel a little guilty. This ghost not only had a good temper, but she also clearly knew how to run a household. I dug a pink sticky note out of a drawer and, using a thick black pen, wrote, "Hi. What should I call you? I feel bad just eating your cooking all the time." When I finished, I placed the note neatly in the center of the table.

My girlfriend, Kayleigh Richards, and I had been childhood sweethearts for ten years. The day I was taken back by my family at 18 years old, she clung to my hand, tears streaming down her face, begging me not to go. But in just two short years, the innocence in her eyes had faded. She carried herself with the poise of a grown woman now, and she had become much more calculating. When I stepped down from the truck, the first thing I wanted to do was pull her into a hug. But she slipped away from my touch so subtly that it almost went unnoticed.

I sighed and prepared to microwave a box of macaroni and cheese. But when I turned around, I spotted a note pressed under something on the table. It was in Nathaniel’s familiar handwriting, though this time, his note held a hint of cold anger. [Wasteful.] I was stunned for a moment before I burst out laughing. This ghost was not just a good cook, but he was also thrifty and responsible. I liked that. I immediately picked up a pen and wrote back. [My bad, Nat. It’s just a joke. Let’s just stick to homemade food from now on. I won’t bring up that extravagant nonsense again, okay?]

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.