Seungcheol Is A Goner For You The Moment You Sail Into The Caf; Gorgeously Rumpled And Bright-eyed, Striding

seungcheol is a goner for you the moment you sail into the café; gorgeously rumpled and bright-eyed, striding to the counter with purpose.

“hi,” you greet, planting two hands onto the counter and leaning over it breathlessly. “i want fifteen shots of espresso, please.”

seungcheol’s eyes widen, fingers hovering over the cashier. “i’m sorry,” he repeats, “did you say fifteen?”

when you nod brightly, his eyebrows draw together, wondering how the universe could throw someone so beautiful in his path, and then make them batshit crazy. “i don’t think i can do that,” he says finally.

“you guys have a rule about espresso shots?”

“no, i mean, like, morally.” the corner of his lips tug upward. “if you died of caffeine overdose…”

your eyes expand comically — “die?” you whip round suddenly, facing three or four people that he hadn’t even noticed were dithering behind you. they must be your friends, because they’re all giggling as they wait for you, and they explode into laughter when you yell at them: “guys, the cute guy says i could die! you want me to die just for being late?”

amidst their raucous laughter, you turn back to him with a resigned sigh. “those dipshits,” you inform him, “are my friends.”

seungcheol’s still stuck on how you called him the cute guy, but whatever.

“we have a penalty every time someone’s late,” you explain, “and today mine is ordering fifteen shots of espresso.”

his eyebrows flick upwards, amusement curving his lips. “technically, you did order it,” he suggests. “doesn’t sound like they made you promise to drink it.”

unbelievably, those sparkles in your eyes seem to brighten. and then you beam at him, which kind of takes his breath away, but you’re speaking before he can curse himself for being so easy. “you are my new favourite person in the world,” you declare without much ceremony. “then can i get an iced caramel latte instead?”

when he delivers your newer, saner order to you, he’s scrawled your name on the side, and a string of numbers underneath with his name attached, waiting with bated breath for you to notice it.

which you do, of course, raising an eyebrow at him. you tap the little call me? he’s written on the side, saying, “that’s a little presumptuous, no?”

“it’s not a command,” he replied, half a smirk on his lips when he taps the question mark. “it’s an option. consider me an option.”

that makes you smile, as you take the coffee cup, exiting backwards and waving it at him in farewell. “consider yourself an option i’m likely to choose, mr choi seungcheol!”

an / hiiiii it feels like ages since i posted! anyway. part of my 1k event & requested by @glowunderthemoon (happy incredibly late birthday!!!!!) with the trope café meetcute.

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haircut | choi seungcheol

fluff | 646 words | no warnings

an: he got a haircut T-T

The sound of the door unlocking and closing causes you to peek out of the kitchen. Closing your laptop, your chair screeches back as you get up from the dining table, moving to greet Seungcheol at the doorway. Sounds from your padded feet echo across the house as you make your way towards your lover, muffled by the soft carpet flooring.

“Hi Cheollie!” He grins up at you. He hangs up his coat, sitting on the nearby bench to remove his shoes. You had placed the bench in the entryway earlier when he first got injured so he would have an easier time with his shoes. His heart swells every time he sits on it, forever thankful for your thoughtfulness.

“Hi baby.“ You found yourself standing in between his thighs. Your waist automatically encircled by his hands, drawing you in closer. One hand is on his shoulder as you steady yourself, while the other gets entangled in his hair. You briefly recall Seungcheol informing you he was heading to the salon earlier in the morning. Fingers softly run through Seungcheol's hair, ruffling. His hair is shorter now, you note, but still barely covering his eyes. The now ebony strands tumbled and resettled, all fluffed up by your ministrations.

“It's shorter now,” you pout.

Seungcheol laughs aloud at your jutted lips, placing a kiss on the hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, it was getting in the way,” he leans into your touch. Like a puppy seeking warmth and reassurance. It was an instinctive response, an unspoken invitation for more of that comforting contact. He pats on his good knee, gesturing for you to sit on his lap. “You liked my long hair?”

You nod, humming in agreement. His lap makes for a sturdy seat, now eye level to him. “It’s nice like this too, I guess,” you push back his bangs. Examining his face once more. “It makes you look dashing.”

His eyes, still vibrant, held a touch of mischief as if testing the waters to see if your adorable pout could be softened by any resistance. “So you’re saying I wasn’t dashing before this?”

It's the way you let out such an exaggerated gasp that has him grinning from ear to ear. Lightly slapping at his chest, you stand up from his lap, making your way back into the kitchen.

“I hope you go bald,” the threat of your words hides behind the sweet smile you shoot his way. He chuckles at your retreating figure, finally removing his shoes before trailing you into the home.

“Oh, so that’s your type now?” he calls out.

“Mhmm. Hyungwon looks really handsome with his hair shaved.”

Now it's Seungcheol’s turn to be flabbergasted. He takes the opportunity to rewrap his arms around you as you go about setting aside your work on the dining table.

“...You and Jeonghan– You guys hang out too much, I swear.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your hair. You can feel his pout against your head, enticing a giggle out of you. Facing him in his arms, you loop your arms around his neck once again. In the warmth of each other's embrace, you tiptoe to peck Seungcheol on the lips.

“You need to use chapstick more,” you murmur against his lips. He smiles into the kiss, pressing you even closer to him.

“You need to kiss me more.” He bites down on your lip. The edge of the table presses into your back, causing you to arch into his touch. He prods with his tongue, and–

-his stomach grumbles. Seungcheol groans in annoyance as you pull away, laughing at the impeccable timing of his stomach. You start flitting around the kitchen again, this time pulling out pots and pans instead.

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the fridge. “Help me make dinner? You can pick.”

He sighs, defeated. “Fine, dinner first.”

「even if the world ends tonight, what i want to cherish is our ‘now’」

aiyu, 00’, she/her, seasian

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