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soleilnomoon · 1 year ago

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Kaia my darling!!!!! Congrats on your milestone!!!

Can I get strawberries with a mai tai, and songs 8 bubblegum, 16 bonfire, and 44. “I’m sorry have we met?” for either sanji, law, or rayleigh?

Please and thank you! 💕

hiiiiii bb 🤩 okay so i picked rayleigh bc hello i love that man obsessively 🤭 this was my first time writing a full fic for him so i was v excited, ty ty 💙 and even tho fluff tries to claim my life every time i write it, i persevered (for u, this is me proposing obvy~) anyway i had fun!! 🥰️

1.3k words (i tried, i tried to keep it under 1k, i failed so bad), gn reader, sfw (just slightly suggestive yk the vibes babey), 18+ mdni; fluff!!!!!!! and maybe, maybe, a tiny tiny bit of angst maybe. just maybe. feat. reader wanting to be a lone wolf, rayleigh who is just v social when alcohol is involved, denial (of feelings and attraction, sort of), it's not cheating bc... well it's not. no real warnings, there's alcohol and a beach and a bonfire. the moon is a paid actress, the ocean is a special guest <3 i, too, would be flustered like crazy around rayleigh, he's got bde 💛 (if u see spelling/grammar errors no u didn't bb)

solitude haunts you without remorse — heavy, daunting, an eerie melody that saturates your world. gray and unending, with a curtain so thick that it obscures your vision most days. it nestles itself in the grooves of the footprints you leave behind in the wet sand along the shore, the ocean water kissing the bottom of your feet as the tide ebbs and flows with practiced ease. you pause in your slow gait and allow the water to wash over your feet over and over before moving forward.

you don’t have a particular destination in mind, you simply wanted to be away from the noise of the sea-faring town you decided to visit. and while you don’t actively seek out solitude, it still follows you around, blending into your shadow, but there’s a comfort in its presence.

because, then, you’re never truly alone, are you?

partially obscured, a waning crescent moon illuminates the ocean, glowing brightly; another comfort that pushes aside that empty, aching feeling in your chest. the ripples in the water are mesmerizing and hypnotic, but you don’t fall prey to its machinations — you don’t let the barely audible melodies of the lurking sirens tempt you into walking closer.

if anything, you give yourself some distance.

there’s a small gathering nearby, the partygoers beckoning you with their promises of drinks and good food. if your traitorous stomach didn’t gurgle so loudly, you would have been able to refuse without issue.

still, it doesn’t hurt to eat, especially when everything smells rich and enticing, strong enough to make your mouth water. you watch the crowd around you, their infectious laughter seeps into your skin, a small flicker of warmth igniting to jumpstart your heart.

this is nice, you tell yourself before taking out a piece of bubblegum from your bag and chewing on it. you don’t particularly like this brand or flavor — much too sweet and a little thick — but you need something to do, and chewing gum helps calm you, surprisingly enough.

silvers rayleigh has never been fond of rooting himself in one, singular place; the desire to roam, to investigate the wonders of the world, to meet and experience life through people — it overwhelms him constantly. to combat that impulse, he sticks to roaming nearby islands, accidentally stumbling upon the same coastal town you find yourself in.

and again it’s pure coincidence that leads him to take the empty chair closest to you. he doesn’t bother with the flask he has, opting to graciously accept the free drinks from the revelers nearby. the brandy is sweet, but crisp — something he’s not too accustomed to, but it puts him at ease all the same. it’s when you pucker your lips and exhale to blow your bubblegum into a decent sized bubble, that he takes notice of you.

well, no—that’s a lie.

he already did notice you, in town earlier. you still have that same, dazed look in your eyes, the same melancholy that inadvertently acts as a small shield to protect you from others draped along your shoulders. you’re not a case study, he knows that, but that doesn’t keep him from observing you all the same.

it’s something stronger than morbid curiosity, and the more he drinks, the closer he comes to discovering the truth in that.

the bubble pops unceremoniously, the saccharine scent is much stronger than he thought it’d be; even as he steadies his breathing, it’s almost as the wind is working against him, keeping him rooted in the chair as he’s bombarded with the playful, artificial smell of strawberry and cherry all in one.

it’s much more pleasant than he thought it would be.

you’re not the best at observing your surroundings, but you’re not completely helpless — especially not when the man next to you is so boldly looking at you without remorse or shame. you chew on the fruity bubblegum thoughtfully and turn towards him unprompted.

a coy smile hangs onto his lips, the corners of his mouth curling upward as thinly veiled amusement flits about on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you say softly, in between chews, “have we met?”

the question is valid, and he should probably answer you, but he finishes his drink instead and waves someone down to pour him another.

with furrowed brows, you watch him quietly, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw and admiring the way he savors each sip of his drink. a peculiar silence surrounds both of you, and when he looks your way again, his eyes sweep over you once — almost like an intimate touch between lovers — and you suddenly remember that you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you.

he takes his time, though, the tip of his tongue briefly gliding onto his lip —because wasting even a single drop of brandy is irresponsible, in his opinion. it’s with clarity and certainty that he tells you, “no.”

the answer isn’t surprising, and you’re not sure what you expected him to say. his voice is deep and rich, with a huskiness that completely suits his rugged demeanor. you don’t know what to do with that feeling, because for some reason, you feel as though you should know him. one after another, thoughts infiltrate the darkest parts of your mind, reviving you with a startling reminder that your heart — as pitiful and naïve as it is — still works perfectly fine.

in fact, it’s working a little too hard right now, beating louder with each passing second. you almost rub at your chest, but refrain from doing so, and blow another bubble to take your mind off it all.

“but,” he continues, as if he didn’t leave you in limbo for the longest sixty seconds of your life, “does that matter?”

he’s playing a dangerous game, he knows that, but rayleigh loves the high that comes with the risk of gambling. it’s invigorating and fresh, much more interesting than coating ships on the sabaody archipelagos.

it’s alluring, the confidence he exudes. his attractiveness is offensive and wholly unavoidable, which annoys you. it’s irrational, you know, you know but the longer you look at him, the more you yearn to get out of your chair and—

you cut yourself off completely from that thought and chew, chew, chew. maybe if you fill your senses with the taste of the bubblegum, you’ll distract yourself from his presence. he’s completely certain you’ll continue to allow him the pleasure of conversation, much to your inevitable dismay.

solitude is safer, you tell yourself. it’s what you’ve always known, but an unnecessary flush stains your cheeks and the heat makes it impossible to look at him for much longer.

“i suppose it really doesn’t matter,” you manage to say, and with great difficulty you force yourself to look at him again and find that he’s never once took his eyes off you.

the intensity behind his gaze is unnerving, but welcomed; a contradictory feeling, but there’s something overtly calming about his presence. so you let yourself step out of your comfort zone and allow him into your space, to pick your brain on various topics without restraint.

he’s normally not this chatty, preferring to drink and fool around — as talking requires a level of vulnerability that he’s not interested in giving. but with you, he finds it incredibly easy to do so — even allowing you to ask him questions about himself and the adventures he’s had on the sea. you get more animated as the night goes on, the bonfire still burning fierce and keeping you warm.

rayleigh’s voice drizzles onto your skin, his words smooth and suggestive without even trying. normally you wouldn’t entertain a man like this, but you’re trapped in his orbit, his aura prompting you to scoot your chair closer, so you can talk to him more privately. he’s completely enchanted by you — with your animated expressions, with the way you talk with your hands a lot, with how you keep leaning closer and closer to him. if you knew just how cute and charming you were, he might be in trouble.

thankfully, you don’t.

and while he already has someone that occupies the majority of his heart, he’s starting to think that he wouldn’t mind making space for someone like you.

#1.3k followers mini event #🔆💕🌴 feels like summer event 🥭💕🔆#milestone event #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece fluff #silvers rayleigh x reader #silvers rayleigh x y/n #silvers rayleigh fluff #rayleigh x reader #rayleigh x y/n #rayleigh fluff #y/n livin in denial and rayleigh is impossible #this man would have me on my knees but that's just me!!!!#anyway ily blue 🥺️💙

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

Text

Sonata Third Movement

The dear @omgalyssag17 asked: hi i saw you have your requests open and was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a story where Yoongi moves into a haunted apartment/house (human!yoongi x ghost!reader pairing). i like giving authors lots of room for creativity so let your imagination flow.

Summary: Yoongi is vacationing at a haunted lake house. [Y/N] has been masquerading as her “sister.” Our [Y/N] will be discovered to be a ghost. 7k words. Fluffy and Angst.

AN: Thanks for everyone’s patience with this piece. I really like the way it turned out <3

First Movement

Second Movement

------------------- ”Please Yoongi the dock,” You said, feeling like parts of you were slowly being taken off. It was like you were a fish having their scales removed.

Yoongi barely had words for what he was seeing. Where Elise had been sitting, it looked as though someone had taken a transparency and placed it in the middle of the boat. Where her face had been, it looked like a painting that someone had walked up and smeared. What the hell was going on? He could hear a voice coming from the other side of the boat, and it sounded like Elise’s but covered in static. He shook his head, as though this was a dream or a vision he could simply end. “Please, dock, Yoongi.” he could make out. Ok. Stay calm, he thought. He was in the lake. He needed to get to the dock. Maybe he was having a stroke or something. Stay calm.

He took his shaky hands and grabbed the oars, slowly rowing the boat back to the dock. He steadied his breathing and looked away from the unsettling sight across from him. As he got closer, he could hear you again more clearly.

“That hurts so bad, please Yoongi.”

His heart clenched at the amount of pain it sounded like you were in. “We’re almost back to the dock,” He forced himself to say calmly.

He looked back over. You looked normal once again. He slowly reached down for his phone which was still in picture taking mode. He held it up and looked at you through the screen. Nothing was there. He moved his phone aside and saw you. He repeated this a few times, his eyes growing wider each time.

You were starting to feel better physically. You looked over at Yoongi and saw what he was doing. Shit. Shit. He looked terrified. You felt your eyes start to tear up once again.

“What’s going on?” He asked, mostly to himself. He shook his head and pushed more buttons on his phone.

“It’s not your phone, Yoongi. It’s me.” You cried.

Yoongi sat there with his mouth open, staring. He felt bad that you were crying but he was also very confused.

“I’m a ghost. I’m [Y/N].” You sobbed.

The boat arrived at the dock. You quickly got out of the boat, not caring about how, and you flung off your life jacket, running toward the house.

Yoongi sat there for a long time, processing what had just happened. A ghost?

You ran into the house crying and went into the guest bedroom. Stupid stupid ghost. Stupid cancer. This wasn’t fair. You were so angry and upset. All you wanted to do was spend one nice day with the first person who had been nice to you in a decade. You had been a good person, what had you done to deserve this?

Yoongi slowly tied up the boat and placed the lifejackets back where they belonged. He walked up and sat on the back deck, thinking about what to do next. He puffed out his cheeks. Were you actually a ghost? Was he having a medical emergency? He felt fine, other than the fact that he had seen some weird shit a few minutes ago. He looked back through the pictures on his phone. There were pictures of the lake, dock, and house that he had taken for Jin. And then there was the photo of the empty rowboat. But you were real to him. You had played the piano. Worn a lifejacket. Talked to him. Shared food with him. You had even put a blanket on him when he was sleeping. There was no one else out here that could have done that.

He shook his hair out of his face and opened the sliding glass door. “[Y/N]?” he called out tentatively into the house. He moved closer to the guest bedroom and heard you softly crying. He knocked on the door. “[Y/N]?”

You froze, was Yoongi actually talking to you? You got up and walked over to the door. You opened it up ever so slightly.

“How can you be a ghost when I can see you?” He asked. Like this was normal.

You laughed, a sad snotty sound. “I don’t know. I don’t know how ghost rules work. You couldn’t see me the first day.”

Yoongi thought back. “You moved my bag outside.”

“Sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

“But you also made me coffee?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Being a ghost is confusing. I thought you would be another rude person, but you turned out to be nice.” You replied.

Yoongi laughed, slightly incredulously. “So I couldn’t see you at first. But now I can. Can most people see you?”

He was interested and not scared? This was strange, you thought. “No. You’re the first person in ten years who I’ve been able to talk to or see.”

“And you can’t leave here?” He rubbed his chin with his hand.

“No. If I could I would. I don’t know where I’d go. I guess I’d travel as a ghost, or go to heaven or hell or whatever is supposed to be next. I’ve wondered a few times if this is hell. But it doesn’t feel bad enough to be hell. Maybe it’s just heck. I’m stuck in heck for some reason.”

“You seem like a very sweet person. I doubt you’d go to hell or even heck if those places exist.” Yoongi leaned against the doorway. You couldn’t believe you two were having this conversation.

“Well, I’m stuck here and have been for ten years. Watching my dog die, my parents sob uncontrollably, and people come and desecrate my beautiful home and piano, so this isn’t exactly what I would consider a nice existence.”

Yoongi moved his lips to the side, pursed in thought. “Yeah. That does sound pretty awful. Maybe you have unfinished business? You know in ghost movies there’s always something like that.”

“I never really watched ghost movies,” you responded.

“Me neither, too scary. But I’ve read a few webtoons. Let’s see. You weren’t murdered. Do you have a crazy ex-boyfriend? Unrequited love?”

“No. No. None of those things. Is that really a thing?”

“I don’t know, up until about 20 minutes ago I didn’t think ghosts were real, so what do I know? I’m just trying to come up with ideas.” He said, fluffing his black hair.

At the same time the two of you reached the same conclusion. “The music.”

“Alright. So we can finish the composition and then maybe you can get out of Lakehouse heck.” Yoongi theorized. “And if you can’t, I’m buying the Lakehouse anyway so at least maybe it would be light heck.”

You started to smile. “Really?”

“Yep. It’s the perfect place for a getaway. Jin and I can come fishing. My friend Namjoon could go hiking. It’s great.”

“That’s so amazing. I don’t even know what to say. To know that people’s kids won’t be putting their nasty sticky hands all over my things….Thank you so much Yoongi, I really appreciate it.” You gave him a shy smile. You couldn’t believe he was still talking to you even though he knew you were a ghost.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go work on that music.” He turned back down the hallway and into the living room humming to himself.

The rest of the afternoon wore on easily, with you each trying different chords and progressions to see what would fit. Unfortunately it still didn’t sound right, but you did enjoy spending time with Yoongi especially now that you didn’t feel like a liar.

It was starting to get dark out. Yoongi stood up and stretched his arms overhead.

“Don’t you need to eat, alive person?” You asked, turning around on the bench to face him.

“I guess I should. Wait a minute. You’ve been eating and stuff as well. How does that work? Do you normally eat?” He got a very confused look on his face (y’all know the one I’m talking about).

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t understand ghost science. I haven’t been eating or drinking the last 10 years. You have magic ghost powers or something. I still don’t feel hungry or thirsty...or need to use the bathroom. But I can interact with food.”

“Huh. Weird. Alright Ghosty, just in case these are your last few days eating food before you pass on from Lake House heck, what do you want to eat?”

You laughed, he had given you a nickname, so cute. STOP IT, you admonished yourself. “Hmm...Kimchi fried rice?” You asked.

“You got it,” He walked over to the kitchen and started taking groceries out. You turned back to the piano and looked back over the music once again. The piece was very sad and slow tempoed. It sounded great, but then at what would be the halfway point it got lost. You played the last few bars again and again.

“Walk away for a while,” You heard Yoongi yell from the kitchen.

“It’s so frustrating.” You replied as you followed his advice and got up, joining him at the kitchen island. You took some scissors and began cutting the kimchi.

“I know. I hate it when I get stuck on something. I have music living on my computer for years. Sometimes we end up using it. It didn’t sound right at the time, but after a while it does.” He said as he put rice into the pan.

“Well it’s been ten years and It’s still just sitting there,” you pouted.

“Yeah but if you’re not having new experiences it’s also hard to write. Being in here and doing the same thing can’t be good for our creative process.”

“That’s true. Well. Thank goodness these few days have been different, maybe they’ll jumpstart my creativity.” You smiled while moving the cutting board next to the pan for him.

“So, I know you are not your own sister. Was everything else true?” He asked, tentatively. He didn’t want to upset you but he was curious.

“Yep. Piano composer. Cancer. Dead dog. Sad parents. Ghost. That’s me.” You sighed and got some plates out.

“I’m sure there’s more to you than that. What did you do when you were alive and felt well?” He asked.

You thought about it for a minute. You could hardly remember. You hadn’t thought about that part of being alive in a long time.

“Are you ok? If it’s a problem don’t worry about answering.” Yoongi said as he stirred the food.

“No, sorry. I just. I haven’t thought about it in so long I’m having trouble remembering. I think I liked reading. I still do actually. But I’ve read every book in here 50 times and people rarely ever forget their books.”

“We need to get you an e-reader.”

“What’s that?” You wrinkled your forehead.

“Do you know what tablets are?”

“Like big phones?”

“Yes. So you can get books on your tablet and then you can just swap them out or whatever.”

“With what, my ghost money?” You teased. You knew he was trying to be nice.

“Well the next time I come back up here I can bring you some books, Ghosty. No worries.”

Your tiny ghost heart was pounding inside your chest. Maybe being stuck here wasn’t so bad.

Yoongi finished cooking and the two of you ate in relative silence as you enjoyed the food. You noticed him yawning several times throughout the meal.

“Go sleep, I’ll clean up.” You encouraged as he got up to wash his plate.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“You made a ghost dinner. The least I can do is clean the dishes.” You joined him by the sink.

He involuntarily yawned again. “Yeah, ok. I should probably sleep before I get awake again. Thanks.”

You finished up the dishes and looked over at the keyboard. Nah. It wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Day 5

You woke up to the smell of coffee and walked out into the main area. Yoongi was sitting at his computer with headphones on so you headed over to pour yourself some coffee.

You let the hot liquid fill your body, enjoying the way it tasted. The first cup always hit the best.

Yoongi was in the zone so you quietly let yourself out onto the back porch. Another foggy day. Oh well. You knew better than to try going out to the lake again, you shuddered, remembering the sensation of slowly having your body peeled apart. You tried to once again remember what you enjoyed doing when you were alive. You remembered books, coffee, and your dog. And the piano. Were there other things and you forgot them? Did you have friends? You probably did, right? Thinking about it hurt your head.

You heard the door open. “Hey, I didn’t hear you get up.” Yoongi said, plopping down on the bench across from you.

“You were in the zone so I just snuck out. Thanks for the coffee.” You took a sip from the mug.

“No problem,” he swiped his tongue across his lips. “So you’re still a ghost right? That wasn’t some weird fever dream from yesterday. Right?

You laughed. “Still a ghost.”

“What do you want to do today?” He asked.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you here to work?”

“I did some work, but now I want to help you get out of heck. You need to do some stuff other than re-read the same books.”

“Like what? I can’t leave here. And the reception sucks so there’s not even anything on tv.” You shrugged.

“Come on, I downloaded some shows onto my laptop. We can watch something.”

“Ok.” You said surprised, you hadn’t planned on really spending the day with Yoongi. You followed him into the house and watched him grab his laptop and sit it on the coffee table. He walked over and took your mug, taking it into the kitchen for a refill.

He returned to the couch, sitting your coffee on a coaster next to the laptop. “You coming Ghosty?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You snapped back into it. You had been so taken back by him being so nice to you.

The two of you settled in watching some show about basketball. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to you but it was a nice change of pace and it was a good opportunity for you to get some creepy stares int.

“I used to play basketball,” Yoongi said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Oh? Cool. I don’t think I played any sports. Piano recitals and rehearsal were all I had time for.” You responded while still watching the movie.

Yoongi was half watching the movie. He had seen it so many times before, he didn’t really need to pay attention. He had spent a lot of time last night thinking about how weird this whole thing was but he had decided to just go with it. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe you were a ghost. Either way, he was going to stay the rest of the week here and try to make them the best days you had had for a while. He didn’t know why it was so important to him. He could have packed up and left yesterday after the boat incident, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wanted to fix the music. He wanted to fix you if he could.

He looked over at you. What had happened wasn’t fair. He found himself getting irritated at the unfairness of life again. You seemed so nice so why had this happened to you? He looked back at the screen. And why was he relating so much to a ghost? He had asked himself all of these questions last night and still hadn’t settled on an answer. The show ended. Yoongi leaned forward and closed the laptop.

“Hey. Could you play some of your other music for me?” He asked, turning to face you.

You were surprised. It had been a while, but surely you could remember some of it. You stood up, stretching after you had been sitting for so long.

“Sure. Happy or sad?” You asked, sitting down at the piano.

“Sad first, then happy.” Yoongi replied from the couch.

“Ok.” You stretched your fingers along the keyboard, warming them up a bit at first. You played one of your early compositions. It was low and slow and sad. A feeling of emptiness and cold was captured in the movements.

“That was really good.” Yoongi said, standing up and moving over to the computer chair next to the bench. “Now, something happy.”

You moved your hands much quicker this time, playing a lively number inspired by Carnivale. If this song was a color it would be pink, yellow, red, and orange. You finished to Yoongi’s polite applause. “Thank you, thank you,” you smiled and gave a fake bow. “Alright. Your turn.”

“Me?” He gestured to himself.

“Yep. You said you play as well. I’ve heard you play my piece, now play one of yours.”

“Alright,” he got up and sat down next to you before you had a chance to get up. You tried to not focus on how your thighs were pressed together or how he leaned across your body when he played the lower notes. It's a good thing you didn’t need to breathe to stay alive because you wouldn’t have been able to. He was very good and played his work with so much passion.

He played the final chord and looked over to see you staring at him in awe. “Sorry, you’re just really good.”

He looked away, touching his ear and becoming shy. “Thanks. You should try to play it.”

“I haven’t played new music in forever. And that is sooo not my style.” You laughed.

“It’s good to try different styles of music. Come on, I’ll teach you.” He picked up your hand and placed it on the keyboard. Well, you couldn’t say ‘no’ to that.

The two of you slowly worked through the song. Yoongi thought it was cute to watch you try to learn. You stuck out your tongue slightly when you were concentrating. “Ughh I keep messing this part up.” You took your hands off the keys and shook them out.

His deep voice reverberated in a laugh next to you. “You’re doing great. Start this part over.” He played it once more.

You sighed, annoyed with yourself. “I haven’t learned new music in ten years, I forgot how hard it was.” You start to copy his finger movements, this time getting it right.

“There you go. Now you’ll have a new song for your performance repertoire.” Yoongi smiled, looking over at you.

You turned and looked at him as well. “Yeah I guess. I do like the song but I’d rather listen to you play it.” The sky had grown darker throughout the day. You looked away from Yoongi and out the back windows. “I wonder if it will storm again today.”

“Why? Are you going to lock me out in the rain again?” he teased. You spun back around.

“That was an accident.”

He laughed, “No, I think it was a plan to get me to enter a wet t-shirt contest.”

You would have blushed if you could. “Hey, don’t flatter yourself mister. You shouldn’t mess with a thirsty ghost.”

He chuckled, “Please the first thing you said to me was that I looked good soaking wet.”

“Stooooopppp you weren’t supposed to be able to see me!” You pouted. “I was a good ghost. I didn’t stare at you sleeping or watch you in the shower or anything creepy like that.”

Yoongi thought this was hilarious. “You thought about it though, right?”

“Ahhh I need to go.” You started to scoot over. You were shocked when he grabbed your hand gently.

“I’m just teasing you. If it’s actually making you uncomfortable I’ll stop.”

“You’re making me feel like a pervert. And I am trying really hard not to be because you are very very hot.” You let it fall out of your mouth.

“Oh?” Yoongi asked, half-feigning surprise. He knew you thought he looked good, he was just trying to get a rise out of you.

You scowled. “You know that. Don’t even.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, batting his eyelashes.

“You’re flirting with me!” You scoffed. “Flirting with a ghost.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to act bothered. “What? No. I am joking around with my incorporeal friend.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Huh.”

He shook his hair out of his face. “I’m going to go make food.”

“He can dish it out, but he can’t take it.” You teased as he got up and headed to the kitchen. You had noticed his blushing.

“Quiet ghost woman. I’m off to the kitchen. It’s ramyeon tonight.”

You laughed and turned back around to the piano, playing a few notes. That sounded pretty good, you thought. You added them on to the composition and they blended so well.

“Hey, that sounded great,” Yoongi encouraged from the kitchen. You smiled having finally made some real progress.

“Thanks!” You played it through again. It blended together really well. Satisfied you walked away and joined Yoongi in the kitchen. “That smells so good.”

“Thanks.” He stirred the noodles in more thoroughly. “It’s almost ready.”

You took down some bowls and laid out the utensils. Yoongi served the food. The kitchen was quiet save for the sounds of slurping for several minutes,

“This is so good. Thank you for making it.” You said as you were finishing up.

“No problem. I’m glad you like it.” Yoongi smiled his adorable gummy smile at you, causing your ghost heart to skip a beat.

You got up and gathered the dishes. When you were finished, you saw Yoongi standing in the middle of the living room messing with the tv.

He looked up at you, “Alright. You mentioned Karaoke the other day. Let’s do it.” Yoongi smiled.

You were intrigued but confused. “How? We don’t have any equipment.”

“I have an app downloaded on my phone. My friends love to sing and they make us do karaoke for work sometimes so I have a ton of songs downloaded. Here….” He got his phone out. “The lyrics should show up on the screen, you sing into the speaker and then it will score you. But...I am not a good singer so don’t expect anything.”

You laughed, “Oh wow. I can’t remember the last time I went out for karaoke. Ok. I am also not a good singer. But let’s try it. Wait. I won’t know any songs though!” You whined. You were excited though.

“I have a ton of classics downloaded, I’m sure you will know some of these songs.” Yoongi handed you his phone. “Here, find something. I’ll be right back.”

You scrolled through his phone and he was right, he did have a lot of songs that you did know. You picked one and it started to play. “I’m only doing this because I can’t die of embarrassment, given the situation,” You joked.

He returned with two glasses of red wine. He handed you a glass as the music started. “Thanks. Cheers. I dedicate this song to………..” you paused for effect,” Yoongi! Please don’t let the score reflect my levels of gratitude.” You joked. You took a gulp of wine. Oops. And started to sing. It wasn’t good, but you had fun. Yoongi drank wine and opened some of the back windows, allowing the air from the lake to blow in through the living room.

You finished. “Your score is….68 points.” The computer voice read off.

You cackled. “I told you! Ok. Please. Please. Do better than that.” You handed Yoongi the phone and went to sit on the couch. You sipped the wine.

“No promises.” He said as he scrolled through some songs. Deciding on his song, he began to sing. It started out really good, but soon the notes became too high and it turned into shrieking. You covered your ears jokingly. He finished the song.

“Your score is...58 points.” The system stated.

“See? I told you,” He was laughing, his gummy smile gleaming in the dimly lit living room.

“Wow. So we are both terrible? Great. Ok.Let’s really make it mad. Pick a duet.” You suggested, standing up to join him in the middle of the room.

“Ok, so our score should be around 61.” He laughed.

“Averaging out how terrible we are?” You asked as he scrolled through his phone.

“Absolutely. Ok, do you know this one?” He asked, showing you the song title.

“Of course I do.” You took another sip of the wine and sat it down on the coffee table.

The music started with the female part first, you sang near the phone that was in Yoongi’s hand. It was so not good and he was trying not to laugh at you. His part came up and it was also a train wreck. He blushed at how terrible he sounded and then grabbed your hand, sitting the phone down on the coffee table. You looked confused.

“We’re going to score like 30.” He put his hand on your waist and started swaying to the beat starting to dance. It was a medium tempo song that the two of you rocked and forth to.

“You’re right. This is a much better use of the song.” You laughed as he spun you around ever so slightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

The song ended much too quickly. Yoongi tried to make sure it wasn’t awkward by asking if you wanted to sing some more or dance.

“I’m terrible at both, but I’d rather dance.” You said, blushing slightly.

“Alright then.” Yoongi queued up a playlist and sat his phone down.

He offered you his hand once more and the two of you gently swayed to the song. “You do have a lot of older music.”

“Yeah. I like to sample all sorts of genres and decades for when I create music. I feel like it helps my work have a more organic feel to it.”

“That makes sense.” The two of you danced for a few more songs, gently swaying in the dimly lit living room. The lake breeze blowing through your hair added an extra element to the scene of the two of you dancing. It felt like you were at a prom or wedding, but it was actually somewhere you wanted to be. You gently sighed into Yoongi��s shoulder.

“You ok?” He asked.

“Just happy.” You responded without a lot of thought.

“Good.”

The playlist ended. You pulled away smiling. “Thanks. That was fun.”

“My pleasure. I’ve never danced with a ghost before.” Yoongi smiled at you shyly.

“That you know of.” You teased.

“Oh. A good point.” He laughed as he sat back down on the couch, drinking some more of the wine. “Come here.”

You walked over and sat next to him. He picked up his phone. “Will you take a picture with me?”

You smirked. “Are you drunk? Remember? I don’t show up in pictures.”

He looked at you suddenly very seriously and said softly, “No. But I’ll know you were there.”

You felt your face warm up and you scooted over as he held up the phone and took a selfie. Just as predicted, it looked like Yoongi was sitting with a person-sized space next to him. “Perfect. You look great.”

You laugh. “Thanks. Thanks for today.” You folded your legs underneath you.

Yoongi sat the phone down on the table and then leaned back on the couch. He stretched his arms up overhead and then gently placed one around your shoulders. He tentatively asked, “Is this ok?”

You were in complete shock so it took you a minute to gather the words. “...yes. Yes.” You leaned into it.

Yoongi gently ran his fingers through your hair. You sat there in utter disbelief that any of this was happening. You were a combination of elated but sad. You were so happy it was happening, but so sad you couldn’t have met him when you were alive.

“Yoongi.” You turned to look at him. “This is probably a bad idea.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Sorry. Do you want me to stop?” He asked, lifting his hand away from you.

“No. I don’t. I’m really happy. I just. I’m a ghost. This whole whatever….won’t end well.”

Yoongi looked down at first and then at you. “I thought about this last night. If you’re trying to protect my feelings, don’t worry about it. I like you. I get that you’re a ghost. I get that a relationship isn’t feasible. But I also like you and I would like for you to be happy.”

“Oh. Ok.” You turned back and looked into the middle of the room, Yoongi resumed running his fingers through your hair. Before long, you felt his hands slow down and tiny snores coming out of his lips. You smiled and gently pulled away. You grabbed a blanket and covered him before you returned to your room for the evening. You felt the happiest you had ever felt in your whole life.

Day 6

You woke up to a gentle knocking on your door. Seeing as you didn’t actually need sleep, it was easy enough for you to wake up and reply, “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” You heard Yoongi ask.

“Of course.” You sat up all the way.

Yoongi opened the door, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. “Good morning. “

“Hey,” you smiled. He walked over and handed you the cup. “For me?”

Yoongi nodded and sat on the side of the bed. “Alright. So. If you could redo your last day. Knowing it was your last. What would you do?”

“Oh wow. Well...I haven’t thought about it before. But this,” you gestured to the coffee in your hands, “is a great start.”

“Well, that’s what I want to do today. Whatever you want.”

You take a minute to process this. You had never asked yourself this question before.

“Ok. I want to go out on the Lake, but not too far. I want to drink lots of coffee. I want to read part of a new book. I want to play a board game. And I want to finish the song.” You said, satisfied with your list.

“Alright. Well, that sounds like a full day, so get up.” Yoongi hit the bed with his hand. “I’ll get the boat ready.”

You drank the rest of the coffee and looked out the windows. You saw Yoongi down at the dock getting the life jackets out. He was really such a great guy. You felt your heart simultaneously flutter and ache. You walked over to the piano and started to play. It sounded good. Happy and sad. You added it to the score. You chugged one more cup of coffee, grateful for your ghost bladder and headed out to join Yoongi.

Yoongi left the boat gently tethered to the dock this time, allowing you to enjoy the views without fear of drifting off. He shared some really funny stories about his 6 friends. You probably could have stayed out there all day listening to him, if not for his growling stomach.

“I guess that’s our cue.” You said. You looked over and saw that Yoongi had taken a picture of you. “More pretend photos?” You teased.

“Nope. Pictures of you.” He said, putting his phone back in his pocket and pulling the boat back to the dock.

When you got back up Yoongi handed you his phone. “Here, this is the kindle app. You can get samples of different books. Pick one.” He headed into the kitchen to cook. You scanned a few titles and downloaded one of them.

You started reading, opting to skip food so you could continue through the chapters. When Yoongi was done, he joined you on the couch. “Find a good one?”

“Yep. It’s a mystery.” You handed him his phone back. “Thanks. You’ll have to let me know how it ends.” You smiled and stretched, walking over to the piano. “I added some more ot it. Would you like to hear?”

“Of course.” He replied.

You sat down and played the entire piece. “Doesn’t that sound good?” You asked him, proud of the progress you had made.

“It really does.” He smiled and got up, taking a seat next to you. “How about this for the next chord transition?” He played and it worked beautifully.

“Ahhh that sounds so good,” You picked up the pen and added it to the arrangement. “Perfect.”

“Where are the board games?” He asked, standing up.

“Hall closet. I won’t play risk or monopoly, but any of the others are fine.”

“I have PTSD from Uno so that one is also out.” He yelled from the hallway. “Life seems too ironic.”

You laughed. You looked over at the desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper. “Just pick whatever, I don’t care.”

He came back with a few options. You ended up playing aggravation. Which lived up to its name. You had expected him to go easy on a poor dead girl, but he kept sending your ass back home at every chance he could. “You’re competitive!” You whined, trying desperately to roll a 1 or a 6.

“I have one real brother and 6 almost brothers, what do you expect?” He laughed. No surprise, Yoongi won.

You rolled your eyes. “Booo!!!”

“We can play again or play something else if you want?” He asked, putting the pieces away.

“No, that’s ok. I need to do something and then we can just watch a show or something.”

“Ok,” Yoongi stretched. “I’ll grab a shower. I smell like sunshine”

“What does that even mean?” You laughed.

“You know, when your skin starts to tan it gets that weird smell like it’s burning but not?”

“No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You responded, getting up off the floor and walking over to the desk. “But whatever. You know I won’t complain about you walking around here wet.”

You heard him laughing down the hallway and you smiled. You took out a pen and started to write. You looked over your letter; a sad smile occupying your face. You gently tucked it in with the music and you sat down to play what you knew would be the final bars of the music. Satisfied,you added the notes to the composition. “There. It’s done.” You didn’t dare to play it all the way through though. You got up and stood over by the window. The sun was setting.

Yoongi came out a few minutes later, his hair still wet. “That sounded good.” He must have heard some of the music in the shower.

“Thanks,” you turned around. “Pick a show.”

“You don’t care?” He asked, walking over to the couch.

“Nope. I haven’t seen nearly as much stuff as you I'm sure.”

“Ok.” He scrolled through some titles as you went over and joined him. The two of you resumed your position from the previous night. You happily tucked into Yoongi’s side with his arm around your shoulder. He picked a long-ass Avengers movie and you had to try really hard to keep track of the characters.

“Sorry. I guess if you haven’t seen any of them, it would be hard to keep track.”

“No, it’s fine. I liked it.” You said. It had been confusing, but overall it was a good movie. You got up and stretched, with Yoongi following suit.

“The day’s almost over.” You commented sadly as you looked out at the moon hanging over the lake.

“It is.” Yoongi walked up behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “What else is on the list?”

You looked down, embarrassed. “I don’t know. It’s dumb.”

“Hey,” he turned you around so the two of you were facing each other. “It’s not dumb. What is it?”

“Could we...sleep together? Not in like a sex way. Just like. Together. Next to each other in bed.” You looked everywhere except for Yoongi’s face, embarrassed by your request.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around you for a hug. “Yes. We can do that.”

You smiled and took a deep breath of his scent, trying to hold on to the memory.

He pulled back, “Alright, let’s go.”

You followed him down the hallway to the master bedroom. You both had only worn pajamas all day anyway so you didn’t need to change or anything.

The two of you laid down in bed. You felt Yoongi reach for your hand and you scooted closer. He rolled over so the two of you were facing each other. The moonlight provided enough light for you to be able to see the tiny freckles on his face, and the sadness hidden in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, gently moving your hand to cup his face.

“Nothing.” He replied, leaning into your touch. “Other than the fact that you know...ghost.”

You laughed. “Yeah. It’s weird.”

A small smile played across his lips. “I like weird.” He looked at you for several seconds, studying your face. “Can I kiss you?”

It took everything for you to not sound overly-excited. You tried to play it cool, “Yes.” You moved your face closer to his and he ever-so-gently placed a kiss upon your lips. If you could die again, you would have. The first kiss was short, the second kiss was firmer and much more needy, and the rest of them were delightfully passionate. The two of you continued to make out for several minutes before pulling away.

“Wow.” You said.

“Good wow? I’m guessing.” Yoongi said, smiling at you.

You laughed, “Yeah. You know how to make a girl feel alive.” It was meant to be a joke, but it left you feeling sad. Yoongi must have noticed because he pulled you closer, up against his chest.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I know. Thank you.” You murmured into his chest. You felt him kiss the top of your head. Neither of you dared to move it seemed. Before you knew it, your eyes were getting heavy. You were so happy. When you woke up, it was bright and warm.

Yoongi woke up, stretching his whole body. The sky was grey and he heard rain beating against the windows. His hands reached over to the other side of the bed, but there was nothing there. “[Y/N?]” He asked quietly? Getting no response, he slowly got up and wandered out to the living room. “[Y/N]?” He asked again. He continued this around the house for several minutes becoming louder and more frantic.

Frustrated, he sat down at the piano and noticed the score sitting out. It was complete. Yoongi felt his throat burning slightly and held back his tears as he put his hands on the keys. He played the song. It was beautiful. The melody told a story of sadness, tentative hope, and finally, happiness. When he finished playing, he was crying. He gently moved the sheet music over to the desk and noticed another piece of paper was stuck to the back of the sheet music.

Yoongi,

I think your plan might work. And in case it does, I want you to know that this week was the best week of my life. You are so kind and thoughtful. Thank you for helping me. Helping me finish the song and have fun. Do what you want with this song. It’s yours; I couldn’t have written it without you. If I do end up out of heck, I hope I end up going somewhere where I will see you again someday. Keep living a wonderful life for me, ok?

Love always,

[Y/N]

And that broke him. Yoongi sobbed into his hands and walked back into the bedroom. He curled up, hugging the pillow. Your warmth was long gone from the bed, but he just wanted to stay there the rest of the day. As his crying slowly subsided, he reminded himself that he knew this could happen. When he laid in bed the first night he discovered you were a ghost, he knew this might happen. And he still let himself fall. He knew he should be happy for you. And eventually, he would be.

Epilogue

Yoongi double checked the address once more. It would be super awkward if he walked up to the wrong house. He had closed on the Lakehouse the week before and had put together a small box of items that he thought your parents might want to have. He walked up the path, stopping at a small stone memorial: “Our beloved [Y/N], gone but not forgotten.” Next to it was a cement stone with paw prints in it and the name “Barley.” Yep. This was definitely the right place. Yoongi almost started to cry right there but he knew he had to keep it together for your parents. He knocked on the door.

An older woman answered, clearly your mom judging by the same eyes and face shape. “Yes, can I help you young man?” She eyed the box suspiciously. “There's no solicitation allowed in this neighborhood.”

Yoongi smiled, “Of course not ma��am. I’m Min Yoongi. I bought your daughter’s Lakehouse and I have some of her stuff. I thought it was only right to return them to you.”

Your mom’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh of course. Of course. Please come in.” She led the way to the living room and yelled for her husband to join them. “This is the man who bought the house. He brought us some of [Y/N]s things.” She explained as your dad walked into the living room.

“Thank you. It was too painful for us to go back.” Your mom said quietly.

Yoongi nodded, slowly starting to look around the house. It was covered in pictures of you at various ages and piano competition ribbons and trophies.

Yoongi touched the back of his neck lightly and cleared his throat. "I'm also a composer and music producer. I found some music [Y/N] was working on shortly before she passed. I went ahead and completed it and recorded it. Would you like to listen?”

Your parents sat there for a moment taking it all in. They exchanged a look with one another as though having a silent conversation with each other.

“I understand if you don’t want a stranger intruding on this. Here is the flashdrive with the song on it.” He took it out of his pocket and sat it down on the coffee table. Yoongi suddenly felt as though he was violating a very intimate moment and turned to leave.

“Could you play it for us?” Your mom asked.

Yoongi’s breath felt trapped in his throat. Could he play through it without being a crying wreck? He didn’t know. He cried while recording it. And listening to it. But it didn’t seem right to cry in front of your parents, they had lost their daughter. He had only known you for a few days. And yet, how could he refuse them? He turned back around. “Of course.”

Your mom squeezed your dad’s hand tightly. “This way,” she led Yoongi through a set of double doors and into a room with a baby grand piano sitting in the middle. “We still have it tuned. I don’t know why. Neither of us play.” She said, pushing her glasses back up.

“It’s like we think she’ll show back up one day and we want to be ready for her.” Your dad added, putting his arm around his wife and squeezing.

Yoongi walked over to the piano bench and sat down. He could do this. He pressed his hands to the keys and began to play. Slowly at first, through the morose beginning of the song. As he entered the middle it gradually became warmer and moderately paced, and finally by the end it was an eerie blend of the two. Bittersweet and full of hope and regret at the same time. By the time Yoongi played the last note he could feel the tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to turn and look to face your parents, he didn’t feel like he could take it. He heard soft claps behind him and turned. Your parents were both applauding while crying.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Your mom said, taking a tissue from a box on the table, then offering one to Yoongi. He gently dabbed at his face.

He stayed for a while longer, allowing them to talk a bit more about your life and show him pictures and talk about your many achievements.

“Thank you so much for stopping by. You are a lovely young man. I only wish [Y/N] could have known you when she was alive.” Your mom said as they escorted him to the front door.

Yoongi smiled wistfully, “I feel like I did get to know her through her music. Thank you. She was very talented. Do you mind if I add this song to my next mixtape? You don’t have to answer now, and she will be credited on the song. Just let me know.” He handed them his business card before leaving to head back to Seoul. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

---------------------

Your parents had given their blessing to having your song included on the next album. This mixtape in general had a softer feel to it than his previous albums, but people gushed the most about the softness and vulnerability of the last track: a piano composition he had dedicated to [Y/N]. “May you live on forever through your music. I'll see you again someday.”

Yoongi was both happy and sad that he never saw you in the lake house again; hoping that wherever you were now, it was peaceful. Over the years Yoongi and the other members created many memories at the Lakehouse, fishing and playing games. Some of them eventually even brought their families along. They were all welcome as long as they followed Uncle Yoongi’s rules: no messing around with the piano.

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