Can I Move In?
Summary: Life has already been shitty for you, but it all becomes worse when a lonely, snarky ghost boy decides to follow you home one night. Or does it?
Genre: Fluff, ghost! Yoongi au
The alcohol you consumed during the Halloween party was still making you feel a bit warm. You would’ve carpooled with your friend on the way home, but she got shit-faced ten minutes into the party. So here you were, walking alone past midnight in the cold, lamp-lit streets. The dark never really bothered you. It was actually pretty beautiful and calming. What wasn’t calming was the cold atmosphere you couldn’t wait to get away from. The dress you were wearing didn’t help, seeing that it ended above the knee and was sleeveless. The sheer fabric of your coat was no match against the icy breeze too. But then you start to realize, there was no breeze.
It was really cold, but you were sure it wasn’t the wind. You didn’t feel anything blowing against you, and the trees were still, too. Getting a bit weirded out, you walked faster, your house soon coming into view. You sighed in relief; finally, some warmth and a hot bath for your aching feet. It was three more streetlamps down the road, and you would’ve walked slower to cherish the evening, but then the lamps started flickering. It started out slow, then sped up, making you make a run for it. Just as you were halfway in the house, you heard a loud pop.
‘What the hell,’ you thought. ‘Even if I was drunk, that shit was still creepy.’
Maybe the bulbs were just about die. Yes, that’s it. Who knows when they were last replaced? You certainly haven’t seen any electrician go out and maintain the streetlights, so that explains it. Even with the perfectly logical explanation, you were still freaked out. A hot bath could calm your nerves.
So what if it was three in the morning, the infamous ‘witching hour’? So what if the streetlights suddenly acted crazy? You were tired from all the dancing and being social, and you were getting the bath you deserved. You ran the water, waiting for the tub to fill.
Unmistakably, those were heavy footsteps. Now, you were really nervous. There was no way it was another stray cat that wandered in. The steps were too lous for that. Whatever was making that noise was no doubt human. You looked around the bathroom, frantically looking for a weapon in case an intruder got in. You spotted a shampoo bottle, knowing very well that it wasn’t tear-free just like what the label suggested. That could momentarily blind someone and give you enough time to call for help.
It was closer this time, probably even outside the bathroom door. ‘Okay, there is no way I’m going down like this.’ You reached for the knob and threw the door open. “Aha!” you shrieked, squeezing the bottle into nothing. No one was there. “What, where- I’m drunk. I am very drunk, and smelly, and the only thing that’s gonna make this night better is my hot bath.” you said allowed, trying to calm yourself.
Maybe it was just your imagination. A thought of you slowly going insane presented itself, but you waved it off. You already have your rent and your low paycheck to worry about, and adding more problems would just cause a mental breakdown. The warm water against your skin was preventing said breakdown. You thought you heard your bed creak, but you were too lost in relaxation to care.
After 15 minutes of the hot bath, you got out, deciding to call it a night. You dried yourself off with a towel and put on some panties and a large shirt. Sleeping with pants on was too much of a bother. You don’t really get that leg freedom with a pair of slacks. You shut the door to the bathroom, only to slam yourself into it in shock when you see a bulge under your blanket. It was moving, breathing, and you almost had a heart attack.
Walking slowly towards it, you reached your hands out, ready to rip off the sheet. “Dear Lord, I’m sorry for that one time I cheated on my AP exam. I’m also for sorry bailing on my blind date to eat nachos while having a movie marathon by myself.” you muttered under your breath. This definitely wasn’t some drunk hallucination anymore. Not when there was someone in your bed, someone who could probably murder you. You grabbed the blanket and ripped it off, finding an empty bed. You were dumbfounded, staring with a gaping jaw on the spot. You swear there was someone there.
After a few moments of recollecting yourself, you let out a shaky laugh. What did they spike your drink with? You found yourself screaming again when you hear a groggy voice.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
You looked at the pale boy sitting in the corner of your room. He had a sour expression on his face as he squinted at you, to which you returned the stare. Your chest was rising up and down rapidly, another scream stuck in your throat. His skin was so light, contrasting to the black sweater he wore. His hair was a light blue, matching the aura he had around him. Yes, he had an aura, a light blue tint surrounding his figure. He scowled at your shaking body, standing up and walking towards you. Only then did you find your voice.
“Wait, stay away from me! How did you get in?! If it’s money you want, there’s some spare change in the piggy bank I keep under my bed, just please don’t hurt me.” you cried out.
The boy rolled his eyes, saying a silent tsk beneath his breath. “I don’t need money, especially in where I’ll end up in. What I do need, however, is a warm bed, so don’t enjoy sleeping next to me much, princess.” he smirked before hopping in your bed and pulling the blanket over him.
You were still frozen in fear, unable to comprehend what was happening. It was three am, and there was a strange boy stealing your bed. “Hey!” you yelled at him, grabbing a pillow and whacking him with it repeatedly. “Get off! I don’t even know you.”
He muttered a bunch of ow’s, shielding his face from your pillow attacks. “Here’s the deal, princess, I’m not hitting you or stabbing you with a knife, so why don’t you just let me rest?” he hissed, wrenching the pillow out of your grip.
“You little…” your face was red with anger. To say the night was unusual was a big understatement. You were supposed to be sleeping right now, not trying to get a stranger off your bed. The aura had you wary about him, but at this point, your fear just turned to rage. With all the energy you had left, you pushed him off the bed.
You expected a thud, followed by pained screaming, but it never happened. Instead, your arms passed through him. You froze in shock again, staring at your hands showing through his transparent torso. Then, you both screamed.
“Ew, what the hell? Did that really- what are you even?! Just please leave me alone.” You stumble back, vigorously rubbing your arms to get rid off whatever invisible trace of him you had. You breathed heavily, starting to feel light-headed.
“Oh my God, your hands were inside me. Shit, that sounds so wrong out of context. What was that for?! Can’t a ghost have some respect around here?!” He was about to rat you out more, but then he noticed you passed out, half your body hanging off the bed. “Jesus.” he grimaced, hauling the rest of your body onto the bed. He covered you with half the blanket, taking the other half and crawling under it as he slept with his back facing you.
You woke with your head feeling like it was drilled with a hundred jackhammers. You let out a groan and rolled on your side, memories of last night coming back. This made you sat up straight, glancing at the space next to you. The boy was gone. Something told you to look at your bedside drawer, so you did. A glass of water and two pills were sitting next to a torn piece of paper.
“Thanks for the nap -m.yg, the friendly neighborhood ghost boy”
So everything was real. You weren’t one who believed in ghosts, but you sure as hell did now. He had a light blue aura, and your hands passed right through him. He seemed harmless enough, but this was just too much to handle. You made a mental note to call the nearest priest after you had breakfast.
“Good morning, princess.” his monotone voice greeted you. You jolted up, looking around until your eyes rested on the wall mirror hanging in front of your bed. He was there, in the mirror. “You look like you got into a mud fight.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Excuse me?” you stood up, walking in front of the mirror and crossing your arms. “Listen ghost boy, you broke into my house and slept on my bed, without my permission, so you better watch your mouth. Don’t make me call an exorcist.”
His face flickered with an expression of fear, but then quickly changed back to the blank, stoic look he had. “Come on, y/n. Just give me a place to crash for a bit, then I’ll move out in the next blood moon.”
“And when- how do you know my name?” The boy chuckled, before disappearing from the mirror. You were met with your own frustrated reflection.
“It’s written here.” You whipped around to see him standing by your drawer, holding your ID up. You ran towards him and snatched the ID just as he disappeared again. “Can you stop with the poof thing?” you said, exasperated.
Finally, he materialized on your bed, sitting with a contented smile. “You can’t call a priest on me, sweetheart.” he slyly grinned at you.
“And why is that?” you spat back, tone laced with fake sweetness.
“Me being here means other spirits can’t come in. And trust me, not all of them are as nice as me.”
You considered his statement, flashbacks of based-on-real-life horror movies coming back. You’ve watched enough Paranormal Activity and Anabelle to know how evil some ghosts may be, so maybe letting him stay was not so bad. You reluctantly set the rules for him over a cup of coffee and burnt waffles. Who knew ghosts could semi-cook?
“First of all, I don’t want you going through my stuff. And since you’re transparent, I don’t want the floating through walls and 360 degree headspinning thing. That shit’s creepy.” you said as you wrote the words down. He hummed in approval.
“Quick question, why didn’t the pillow I was hitting you with pass through you?” you stopped writing and looked at him.
“I can control when a thing passes through. You caught me off guard, so I wasn’t really able to do it until I saw you about to push me off the bed.” He raised an eyebrow at you, then stared at your coffee mug, making it slide off the table, stopping it just as it was about to hit the floor.
You stood up, pushing your chair back. “That isn’t allowed! No ghosts tricks until I say so.” He shrugged again, making you roll your eyes as you sat back down.
“Anyway, do you even eat? Drink? Shower, or something?”
He wrinkled his nose at the last question. “As we’ve established before, I’m a ghost. I do neither of those things. Unless I want to, of course. I don’t even have to sleep-”
“Then why did you barge n my room last night?!” you cut him off. He scowled at you, and you suddenly find your cheeks heating up in embarrassment from your sudden yelling. You whispered a silent sorry before letting him continue.
“Sleeping is basically the only thing I can do to pass the time. When you’re a ghost, you get easily bored of stuff. I hope you understand, and fine, I’m sorry for intruding last night.” he looked away and pouted. You suppressed a smile at the sight.
“Okay, apology accepted. Last thing, if you want to use a something of mine, you should always ask permission first.”
After giving him a mini house tour, you settled on the couch to complete the last requirement in college before semester break. You payed no attention to the ghost boy, who’s name you still didn’t know, and typed away on your laptop. It’s been a whole hour of silence since you last talked. “Y/n~” you heard him call from the kitchen. “Yes?” you hollered back.
He trudged into the living room, pouting like a child. You chuckle at the sight of him. He immediately glared at you, pout disappearing with him. He just deadass poofed again, breaking rule number two.
“Ghost boy, we talked about this!” You checked every reflective surface. You knew he was mainly doing it just to piss you off, and it was working really well.
“Boo.” You jumped up, the laptop falling off your lap as you saw his face on the screen. You heard him laugh, the in the blink of an eye, he was gone again. ‘Shit’ you grabbed the laptop off the floor, checking if there was any serious damage. The space next to you dipped, and you figured he might’ve materialized beside you.
“If anything happens to me laptop, I’m killing you again, ghost boy.” you hissed at him. He just scoffed, slinging an arm on top of the couch.
“Stop calling me ‘ghost boy’. Contrary to popular belief, I have a name.” He took a couch pillow and curled up on the other end of the sofa.
“Which is?” you shut the laptop down, finally completing the file. You crossed your legs and faced him. His eyes were closed, about to take another nap.
“Yoongi. I’m not Casper-nice, but I guess I still am? Yoongi, the semi-friendly ghost.” he yawned, and before you could ask him something again, he was already asleep.
It was crazy how easily you accepted a spirit into your home. You’ve learned to not ask him personal questions, like how he died, or why he was still among the living. You tried once, and each time, you just got a deep sigh and a sad look. Apparently, ghosts like music as much as humans do. He was ecstatic when he saw an Epik High album squeezed between some books.
“You listen to hip-hop?” he asked you with shining eyes.
That’s how you came to listen to the album on repeat every Friday. He was warming up to you faster after that. There were times when you arrived home and there was freshly cooked dinner on the table, Yoongi acting oblivious about it. He’d be sat in front of the TV, pretending to not see the steaming pork belly meal. If you asked about it, he’d reply with yet another sarcastic response.
“Oh, why don’t you look at that. Food magically appeared, whoop-dee-fucking-doo.”
Sometimes, he followed you out the house too. It often had its perks when you were in some situations only he could help in. Like the time your teacher’s lecture was too boring, so he activated the fire alarm, setting the water sprinklers off. Or that other time you weren’t able to study for an exam and he peeked over Kim Namjoon’s test paper to observe, as he called it.
“Yah, number eleven’s supposed to be C.”
“Yoongi, this is cheating.” you whispered to him, afraid that someone might hear you in the silent classroom.
“No it’s not. It’s called getting ghost-friend benefits. You owe me a foot massage later.”
The semester break finally rolled in,much to Yoongi’s delight. No school meant you being in the house more, which in turn means he gets to spend more time with you. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he loves the attention you give him. Any attention was good attention for him, even if you’re screaming your head off after he appeared in the mirror again while you were doing your makeup.
“Hey ghost boy,” you smirked at the name you always teased him with. He was sitting on the couch as usual, staring at the flickering TV (caused by his presence) timidly. “Since it’s the official start of break, I was thinking of laying the rules off. I’m gonna be here most of the time anyway, so I can supervise you.”
“Are you implying I’m a child or something?” his eyes narrowed as he looked at you.
“I’m just saying. I have neighbors too, you know? I don’t want anyone seeing you doing the spooky stuff you do.” you chuckled at him. “The rules are off. You can do whatever you want.”
His eyes lit up, and he gave the widest gummy smile. “You mean it? I can float in the house now?” Of course it was the first thing he’d ask. During the first few weeks of being with him, you got used to the sight of him hovering over the floor, and sometimes even while sleeping on the bed.
“I guess. But only during the night.”
He pouted a bit at your response. You rolled your eyes. “Okay, you can do it during the day too. But we need to buy thicker curtains.”
He let out a small ‘yes!’, then suddenly hugged you. His action took the both of you by surprise and he quickly pulled away. “Thanks by the way.” he said while ruffling his hair.
“No problem. I wouldn’t have to worry about you tracking mud in the house so-”
“No, thank you for letting me stay.” he looked at you, sincerity in his eyes. “The night we met, I was supposed to move on. Into the light, I mean. I just didn’t want to yet. I didn’t have anywhere to stay in, too. I saw you walking alone that night, and the dress you wore looked too revealing. So I thought ‘hey, maybe I should watch-over this girl for a bit’ and I did. Basically, I’m kind of like your guardian angel now, except I’m stuck in purgatory.”
“Awh, I never knew you could be sweet.” you cooed, moving your hand to pinch his cheek, only to scream as it went through. He glared at you while you took your hand back, rubbing it.
“Don’t push it.” he huffed, placing both his legs on your lap. “All this mushy stuff made me hungry. Can we get some pizza?”
“I thought you didn’t need to eat?” you chuckled at his demanding demeanor.
“Ghosts crave too.” he smiled at you before disappearing again. You rolled your eyes as you got your phone to order takeout, already expecting to see Yoongi in the screen.