#like...s*icidial? yeah.

[pearbunny]

the bucket list ✘ [seven]

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summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was. 

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: angst, comfort, smut.

general warnings:  tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of death in later chapters, overarching theme of mental health, eventual smut.

word count: ~4.8k 

chapter content: death, terminal illness, depression, s*icidial thoughts; all of which are not explicitly said, but described and mentioned. angst / comfort.

author’s note: I apologize for the longer than usual wait, but here's a bit of a heavy chapter.  Also! Big reveal at the end.

The sun shines through the window of your hotel room, reflecting onto Jisung’s face. He groans as he wakes up, turning over to lay on his back, pulling the sheets over his head. He lays there for an additional fifteen seconds before he tosses the covers off of him, rolling over to swing his legs off the edge of the bed. He stretches his arms above him, white t-shirt rising to show his stomach before it drops back down with a slump of his shoulders. 

Jisung rubs the sleep from his eyes and looks around the room, glaring at the open curtains that neither he nor you remembered to shut last night. He looks to the other side of the bed and his eyes go wide, surprised that you weren’t there. Judging by the pristine creaseless pillow, you hadn’t even come to bed. Jisung gets out of bed and slips on the hotel’s guest slippers, searching the small room for any sign that you had left. When he notices your shoes and bag by the door, his brows knit in worry.

“Y/N?” He calls out. He walks to the night stand by his side of the bed and almost grabs his phone to call you to check where you are, but then he realizes he doesn’t even have your number – not even your Instagram. Jisung heaves a sigh of frustration and sits back down on the bed, rubbing his palms into his eyes. 

Where does he start? He doesn’t know your last name, he could look through every single Y/N on Instagram, but who knows how many profiles would show up. Then, he has an idea: He can call that tattoo artist, and get your information. He stands up from the bed again and heads straight for the bathroom. 

When he opens the closet door, he sees you curled up in a ball, eyes red, cheeks puffy, your mouth slightly open, fast asleep. There’s a frown on his face as he approaches you, squatting down to gently touch your shoulder. You stir awake, scrunching your face in the process. You make a little sound, almost like a whimper. Jisung’s frown deepens when you don’t open your eyes. He reaches out a hand to brush the hair away from your face. “Hey, wake up.”

Your eyes finally open and you’re met with Jisung’s concerned face. You slowly sit up onto your elbows, looking around to ground yourself, a little disoriented from sleep. “Jisung?”

Jisung nods. “Did you sleep here?”

You rake a hand through your hair, “Yeah, I guess I did.” You grab your phone off the ground, unlocking it to check the time. “Sorry.” You start to push yourself off the floor. 

Jisung stands up and extends his hands to you. You take it and he helps you up as you plant your feet on the ground. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. You could have had the bed.”

You offer a sad excuse for a chuckle, your voice hoarse and lower than usual, worn out. “No, it wasn’t that. I just…”

Jisung looks at you with so much concern. His brows slightly forward, lips in a small straight line, his eyes looking at you as if he’s hanging on to every word you say. When you don’t answer, he shakes his head and that worried expression disappears. Instead, he smiles and ruffles the top of your head, heading over to the bathroom. “You don’t have to tell me. I was just worried you’d left, that’s all.” 

You sit on the floor of the hotel room, looking out at the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your shared room has a beautiful view of the beach that you can properly admire now that it is daytime. You watch the waves ebb and flow, crashing gently onto the shore as you meditate and think about the previous night. 

‘She’d be proud of you, too.’ Those words echo in your mind. A rush of emotions hits you, manifested in a chill down your spine, a slight prickly feeling traveling all the way to the tips of your fingers. You exhale deeply and count to eight before taking in another breath. You smooth your hands over your hair, closing your eyes while you tie your hair up in a low bun, relying completely on muscle memory rather than using a mirror. You wrap your hair in a large scrunchie before opening your eyes to be met with the same picturesque view of the ocean. Your hands fall into your lap. Your shoulders slump. Your lips form a crooked line as you fight the urge to cry again. 

Jisung comes out of the bathroom at exact that moment and you scramble to pull a smile together. You clear your throat, surprised at how your voice doesn’t crack even after being on the verge of tears. “So, coffee shop?” 

You turn and see him dressed in a pair of faded light blue denim jeans, a white shirt, and a black and white patterned mock neck zip up. He nods at you, adjusting his watch on his wrist. “Of course.” He smiles and looks around the room quickly before deciding to sit next to you. 

You tilt your head at him, bewildered at why he would do such a thing.  He shrugs his shoulders, “You looked like you needed company.” His eyes go to your hands, fighting the urge to reach out to hold them. “You going to be okay today?” Jisung doesn’t even know what made you cry yourself to sleep, but he doesn’t pry. He knows that if you really wanted to talk about it, you would. Of course he wants to ask, but he doesn’t. 

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” Without thinking, you answer him and nod your head at him for emphasis. 

He gives you a smile and stands up on his feet, offering both his hands. You take a gentle hold of them with your own and he helps you onto your feet effortlessly. 

Jisung grabs his keys on the small table by the door, slipping his feet into his shoes. “Okay, let’s take it one step at a time today then, yeah?”

You follow him to the front door, picking up your bag on the way over. “One step at a time,” You mindlessly repeat his words. “First step, coffee.” 

Both you and Jisung had decided to walk to the coffee shop that you had spotted the night before on the drive to the parking lot. The weather in Busan is a lot cooler compared to the city, mainly thanks to the ocean breeze.  You sit at a table by the window as Jisung waits in line to order your drinks. You scroll through your phone, catching up on all the Instagram posts you missed since you landed in Korea. You didn’t intend on going on a social media break, but that’s what it was. You like a couple of posts, one from Robin who posted a selfie of herself where she was in her work bathroom; she’s facetimed you multiple times from that exact bathroom during her lunch breaks to vent to you about who-knows-what; your careers were different, but you don’t need to know everything about her job to know she just needed an ear to listen. 

You switch apps to your photo album, looking at the pictures you took since you landed in Korea. The last thing you posted was a cliche picture of the view from your airplane window. You debate on a couple of pictures to post: the picture of the sunflower bouquet you gave to Jisung, the new tattoo you got your second day in Korea, the picture of you in your outfit that you wore to the wedding you crashed. You decide on the picture you took at Loud Mouth of Jisung, his co-workers, and the girls at the bar taking a shot together. 

Reminiscing on that night brings a smile to your face. You recall how it felt to go out at night drinking with new friends, how you threw every ounce of your timidness out the window to sing in front of a bunch of strangers. You want more nights like that. You post it onto your instagram feed and caption it, “Geonbae!” You think if you post that picture, Robin wouldn’t think too much about how you felt after the phone call with your dad. 

Jisung comes back to your table with both of your drinks in hand. He sets the latte in front of you, peering at your phone screen in the process. “Oh, you’re on Instagram?”

You take a peek at him before putting your phone down on the table, grabbing your latte and blowing on it gently, careful not to mess up the cute foam art on the surface. “Of course I’m on Instagram.”  

Jisung laughs and chews on the plastic straw of his iced drink as he takes his seat next to you. “That was my lame attempt at trying to ask you for your Instagram handle.” 

You give him a tight lipped smile, trying not to show how shy and giddy that made you feel. Despite waking up upset, he was able to bring something else out of you, if only for fleeting moment. You take your phone in your free hand and swipe up, unlocking the phone with faceID. You open up Instagram and go to the search bar, “Okay, what’s yours?” 

Jisung searches the pocket of his sweater for his phone. “J-I-period-O-N-E.”

You type in his handle and find his profile. You take a look at it before deciding to hit follow. There weren’t many posts, but there were a couple of pictures of him posted a couple of years ago with his blonde hair. “I think you should bring blonde Jisung back.”

Jisung groans and covers his face with the palm of his hand. “It was a phase. My friends and I did it ourselves.” 

You raise a brow at him, curious. “Blonde Lee Know? That I have to see.” 

Jisung snorts, “Good luck. All he posts are really bad pictures of food and pictures of his cats that look like they were taken on the first camera phone.” He places his drink down on the table and starts scrolling through his own instagram feed, mindlessly liking posts. 

Finally, you hit the follow button and it doesn’t take long for Jisung to click the notification to follow you back. He likes the photo you posted just moments ago and even comments with the thumbs up emoji. 

You look up again at him to find him already giving you that gummy smile of his and you can’t help but to smile back. 

He reaches for his iced americano, but he fumbles it and it spills onto the table. He quickly places it up right again, “Shit, sorry.” He leaves his phone on the table to grab napkins at the cafe’s register counter. 

Jisung’s phone starts chiming and you can see the little banner at the top. 

He comes back and starts placing the napkins on the table, letting the spilled liquid soak into the napkins before gathering them and placing them aside. His phone goes off again. He takes a glance while he wipes down the table. “Oh, it’s the guys. Can you tell me what it says?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, I told them I’d be by my phone in case something goes wrong with the bar. We just switched suppliers for a couple of things and I’m usually the one that deals with the shipment and where things go.” 

You grab his phone and swipe up to see the different text banners. 

Loudmouths Binnie Where the hell is the stock list???? Loudmouths Lee Know (soulmate) Where it always is. Loudmouths Binnie Well if I knew where it was, I wouldn’t be asking. Lee Know (soulmate) She’s obviously going through a hard time. You were there once, you know what to do. You smile a little at the thought that maybe Jisung had texted Lee Know about how he found you asleep in the closet this morning.

“Everything okay?” Jisung’s voice reminds you that you were only supposed to check the work group chat.

“Um. Changbin wants to know where the stock list is at.”

“Where it always is.” Jisung leaves momentarily to throw away the napkins and comes back only to find that he has a small brown spot on his sweater from his coffee. He takes one of the spare napkins from the stack he brought over and dabs at the spill, hoping it doesn’t stain the sweater permanently. 

“That’s what Minho said.” Once Jisung is satisfied that the stain seemingly disappeared, you hand him his phone so he can text him back. He smiles as a thank you and types a response, reading it aloud as he does so. “In your office. Behind the door.” 

You smile weakly, “Seems like they really need you back there.” 

Jisung looks at you for a second before going back to his phone screen and hitting send. He places his phone back on the table and gives you his full attention. “No, not at all. They’ll be fine. Changbin’s mostly in charge of numbers. Minho is all about the menu and wine pairings for the restaurant mostly.”

“And you?”

Jisung bites on his lower lip in contemplation. “Hm. I like to think that I’m in charge of the awesome music and events.” 

“Don’t forget, you bring in your regulars.” He shrugs his soldiers casually. “We all have our regulars. If you lived here, would you grant me the honor of being my regular, too?” The corners of his lips tug into a smirk. 

The smile on your lips widens a little and you tear your gaze away from him, leaning your elbow on the table and putting your chin in your hand to hide the growing smile. 

He laughs and takes that as an answer. “So, do you have any idea of what you’d like to do today?” 

“Oh,” You look back at him, your hand moving from your hand from your chin to the back of your neck, feeling timid. Your reminded of the emotions you woke up with and you silently thank Jisung for unknowlingly pulling you out of it.  “Yeah. I think – I think want to Send a Message in a Bottle.” 

Jisung and you walk the streets close to the beach until you stumble upon a glass trinket souvenir shop. It’s quite cute. The whole shop has a very beachy vibe. The decor centered around sun-bleached wooden furniture, white worn down shutters positioned on the walls to make it look like closed windows, and a couple of signs around the small store that say, “this way to the beach”. 

You peruse the shop with Jisung leading the way. His fingers run along the tubes of a wind chime, a couple of different tones sounding from the movement. He looks back at you from over his shoulder, smiling warmly. You give him a smile back. 

You pause momentarily to look at one specific art piece on the wall. It’s a large picture made up of shells cracked and dyed different colors to make up a mosaic of a woman and a child at the beach. Underneath the large art piece, scribbled across a small white index card it reads, “Summer ‘96.” 

You continue around the shop, wondering about the story of the mosaic. Who was the artist? Were they related to the two subjects or did they just happen to capture a beautiful moment between mother and daughter. Maybe it was a mosaic based off of a picture taken back in ‘96, maybe the artist was the child in the picture, maybe the mother.

“Oh, what about these?” Jisung turns to you with a small bottle in his hands. Inside of the bottle is sand, presumably Busan Sand that is sealed with a cork at the mouth of the bottle. Very touristy. “We can just empty out the sand and use the bottle.” 

You check the price tag and do a quick conversion. “That looks perfect.” 

Jisung smiles and takes two from the shelf. You follow him to the counter where a middle man was stationed. 

“I saw you looking at my daughter’s artwork.”

“Hm?” You look over to where the man gestured. “Oh, yes. I was. Your daughter made that?” 

The man nods and rings you up for two souvenir trinkets. “That she did. That’s her and her mother on the beach.” 

Jisung hands the man the appropriate amount of cash. “You’re selling it?”

“No. I just hang it up there to keep me company during shop hours.” The smile he gives both you and Jisung is heart-warming; extremely pure and genuine. “My daughter takes care of my wife while I’m at the shop.”

“Oh,” Jisung frowns a little, taking the bag that contained your purchase from the shop owner. “I hope your wife is doing well.” 

“She’s doing fine. Her memory just isn’t what it used to be, but my daughter and I do our best and we manage.” He sighs with a shrug of his shoulders. “You kids be safe out there.” 

You give him a nod, “Thank you, sir.” Your hand slips down to grab Jisung’s, leading him out of the shop and across the street to a dock you had spotted. You look back at him for a brief second to catch his confused and worried eyes. You simply squeeze his hand tighter, trying to convey to him that you just needed to get out of there. 

He doesn’t quite understand, but nonetheless he squeezes your hand back and quickens his pace as he follows at your heel. 

There aren’t too many people around. There’s a couple holding each other at the other end of the dock and a family taking a stroll along the shore. The area was more secluded, a bit farther down than the more touristy area. 

You sit at the end of the dock, hanging your feet over the edge. With your hand still in Jisung’s, you gently tug him down to sit next to you. Quietly, he joins you and hands you your glass bottle of sand. Finally, you let go of his hand to look through your bag, taking out two pens and handing him one. “I took these from the cafe,” You hand him one of the two napkins you had swiped from the cafe’s register counter. 

You bend forward and place the napkin on your lap, scrawling across it messily. There were a lot of things to say and you’re unsure if you’ll ever really be able to fully transcribe your thoughts accurately, but you try your best. When you’re done, you take the souvenir bottle and uncork it, spilling the sand into the ocean beneath you. You slip your message into the glass bottle and close it securely with the cork top. 

Beside you, Jisung writes his own message.  It’s a letter meant for a friend. He asks him how he’s doing, if he was okay. He tells this friend about the things he’s missed. How Seungmin opened up the cafe shop. How Changbin and Lee Know keep him on his toes around Loud Mouth. He talks about his music, how he’s almost ready to show the world his full length album. How hard it was to get through writing the songs. Eventually, he rolls up the napkin, spills his sand in the ocean, and places his letter into the bottle, corking it shut. 

You toss your bottle into the ocean and Jisung does the same. The bottles bob up and down in the water at first, then it follows the waves' ebb and flow, being pulled towards the shore, then out towards to sea. It’s slow, but they travel towards the horizon. 

“Did you write about what you needed to?”

“I did. I sent someone a letter and I hope he reads it, wherever he is.”

You’re curious, but you know it’s not your place to ask. “Lee Know made it seem like you were going through a rough time.”

“I was… I am. I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Soon, but.. Not yet.” Jisung looks off at the bottles, eyes glazed over, lost in deep thought. 

You stay quiet and accept his answer. Soon.

“I fell asleep crying in the closet last night.” Your voice is quiet. It’s just barely noticeable over the sounds of the gentle waves. 

Jisung adjusts his body to face you, giving you all of his attention. He knows you’re about to tell him something important; something vulnerable. 

Your eyes focus on your feet, legs dangling back and forth over the edge of the dock. “I called my friend Robin over FaceTime.  She said I looked happy,” You smile a little to yourself, imagining yourself from someone else’s eyes: happy. “I haven’t been happy in a while. Not necessarily sad. Well, at one point I was sad. Really sad.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to downplay your emotions. 

Jisung places a hand over yours. It’s gentle, it’s warm. It’s comforting. 

“My mom passed away three years ago.” The lids of your eyes droop; you haven’t talked about this. To anyone, actually. Everyone around you in close proximity knew, you didn’t have to explain, they could only assume. “It was hard, watching someone you love that was so strong, someone that was your superhero, become so weak, so fragile.” You stopped swinging your legs, feeling that numb prickly feeling enveloping you again. “But she was still strong, just in other ways. For a long time, she never complained, never cried, never made it seem like there was anything wrong.” You give a sad twisted smile, “I couldn’t even look at her at one point. I was so mad, why wouldn’t she just let us know she was hurting? We could all see it.”  

“Eventually, she grew tired. Tired of smiling, tired of acting like nothing had changed. She was exhausted. At one point, all I did was sit next to her and watch her breathing, scared that every breath could be her last.” You gently rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder, looking for any form of physical comfort. He sits still for you, letting you use him as something to lean on. He hasn’t said a word back to you, he’s simply listening to everything you need to say out loud. “She passed shortly after.” 

You move your head slightly to look up at him. He looks down at you and he takes his hand off yours to wrap it around your shoulder. 

“She left us in the summer. I was… a wreck. I was sad. So fucking sad. Summer passed. Fall passed. I don’t know how many seasons passed, but I was still sad. I didn’t want to do anything; I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to stop. Me. Not my dad, not my friends, not work, not the world. I wanted to stop.” Jisung looks at you with a pained expression. His lower lip quivers and he had to purse his lips to stop it. He lets out a shaky breath and his arm around you brings you closer to him, his other hand finds yours on your lap and he squeezes it, hoping that you can feel him there in your current state. 

“I got close, but my dad…” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Eventually, that sadness became apathy. I wasn’t happy, I’m not sure I was sad. I might have been, but I just kept going through everyday motions. I went to work. I ate. I slept. Over and over again. Then it got to the point where I needed that routine to function.” 

“Last night, I also called my dad. He worries about me, you see.” This is where your voice cracks a little. “I told him that I think I’m going to be okay and he said—" You choke back a sob, shutting your eyes and gripping the edge of the wooden plane of the dock to ground yourself, afraid that you could lose yourself. “—he said she’d be proud of me.” You fully fall into Jisung now, bringing your hands into your chest as he cradles your body close to him. 

“She is proud.” 

The tears flow freely with his words. He has no idea who your mother is, he has no reason to believe she would be proud and you almost want to laugh at how he could be so sure, but then you remember your mother’s smile. How she would look at you every time you walked through the front door, happy you were home. She’d greet you with a “You’re here. Good. I’m glad.” Every. Single. Time. It didn’t matter if you went out just to take out the trash, it didn't matter if you hadn’t been home in a month because work was so busy that you’d be pulling overtime and you barely had the energy to make it back to your own apartment. She said it  the last time you saw her and even with how fragile she looked at how frail her voice sounded, she was glad. You think that if she saw you now, knowing what you went through, she’d say the same thing. “You’re still here. I’m glad.” 

The emotions crash onto you like a tsunami. Like waves that rippled from the small earthquake that was the call back home. Perhaps it was even before that. You had thought you had grieved your mother’s passing, that you cried as much as you could, but you’re realizing now that all of this grieving and the emotions comes in waves. You grip onto Jisung’s shirt, tugging and stretching the collar, uncaring to how hysterical you may look. 

“I know that we just met, but,” Jisung’s voice snaps you back. You can feel his voice vibrating in his chest, low and only for you to hear. “I’m glad that you choose to wake up everyday.” 

Those words linger in the air. You focus on them and what they mean to you. You’re not sure how Han Jisung does it. How he knows exactly what to say to you. How you know that statement is precisely what your mom would mean if she were to you right now. Slowly, your breathing calms down, the tears don’t flow as much as they did. You stay like that for a while until your sobs calm down and you can finally take a full breath. Jisung’s shirt is wet with tears, but he doesn’t care. 

You stay at the dock with Jisung’s arms around you, rubbing comforting circles into your back. By the time the sun starts it descent in the sky, you shift your weight off of him and wipe your face with the palms of your hands. You exhale deeply and blink hard, as if to reset yourself. You place your hands on your lap and look at him. “Let’s get out of here.” 

Jisung stands slowly, helping you up. He lets you lead the way, to wherever you want, at whatever pace you set.  He observes you quietly. He contemplates his words briefly, unsure of how to bring what he’s known for awhile now up. “The Bucket List, it’s not yours is it? You’ve never once called it yours.”

You unwrap your arms from around yourself and find that your hand automatically reaches to  find his. You interlace your fingers with his slender ones.  It’s so natural that it surprises you. You look back at the ocean before leading him off the dock and back onto the concrete ground. You can barely see the pair of bottles carrying your messages. 

“It was my mom’s. I found it one day after she passed. I would read it again and again to try and be close to her, but the more I read it the farther away I would feel. I decided to get on a plane to Korea, do something different that my normal routine, I wanted to feel closer to her. I wanted to do her bucket list.” 

“Will you be okay?”

You glance up at him. He’s staring out into the horizon, his hair swept to the side from the wind. 

You sit with his question for a while longer. If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t know. You don’t know what tomorrow brings. You don’t know how you’ll feel in a week, in a day, in the morning. But here, with him, simply walking along the shore together…

“I will be. “

Jisung tugs on your hand, bringing you closer to him. He places a kiss on the top of your head, breathing you in.

“Good.”

ending author's notes:Because I was sitting on this chapter for awhile, I kind of forgot that I had revealed the whole Bucket List ownership and when I re-read it I almost gasped; as if I didn't write it and had it all planned out from the beginning. Because I did have all this planned from the beginning, the terminal illness of m/c's mom really hit close to home with recent events. Hug your loved ones a little tighter for me, will ya'? 🤎 If you enjoyed this chapter or if you're enjoying the series, please remember to reblog. it's not necessary, but it truly helps me out! taglist

@burningchaosdeer @bat-shark-repellant @jisunglyricist @captivq @lixiel0ver @channieandhisgoonsquad @dalamjisung @laylasbunbunny @beanebabyy @leyknowsbin @vixensss @hyunfilms @cutiespaghetti @hanjisunginc @kubuwu @raehawthorne

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[moonrlsing]

so what if like hypothetically i gave yall my discord bc i dont wanna be on tumblr anymore bc it makes me hella anxious lmao

it’s under the cut. mutuals only and pls let me know who you are.

djwubs#1694

lol 69

anyways yeah. i dont do 1on1 rps over dms bc of a lot of bad personal experiences but also personal preference, so if you wanna keep rping, you can dm me and i can make us like, a private server or smth

i’ve also considered making a mutuals only group server for mada so me and some friends can still do stuff and i wont feel pressured