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He's got my expectations way too high😭

Garlic Pasta (As a Form of Love)

This one's a bit shorter but it made me so happy to write! Sorry it took a few days! This fic was an anonymous request, check my masterlist to see if requests are currently open!

Summary: You and your boyfriend Chan are cooking together, and Chan never adds enough garlic for your taste.

Pairing: boyfriend!Chan x gn!reader

Word Count: 600

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife

Includes: Boyfriend Chan, blond Chan (bc I'm in love with him), cooking pasta, "I love you"s, affectionate teasing

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!

Masterlist

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You watch as Chan adds oil and garlic to the pan. “More garlic.” You judge.

“More garlic?” He raises his eyebrows. “I think it looks fine.”

“You always think it looks fine.” You jump up to sit on the counter. “And then it always needs more garlic. What are you, a vampire?”

Chan does fangs with his fingers, lunging at you. You squeak and lean back. He laughs, and you’re struck by how much you love him. The way he looks at the floor when he laughs, the way he runs his hands through his hair, the way he teases you. You love everything about him.

You never thought you’d be dating Chan. He’s so… he’s everything. Handsome, funny, so sweet and protective. You’d convinced him to bleach his hair not too long ago, and you hadn’t thought he could get any more attractive, but you’d been proven wrong.

He faces his own challenges, you know that. He struggles with self-love, but you’ve been there for him, encouraging him to be kind to himself and cut himself some slack. He puts so much pressure on himself to be perfect—the perfect leader, the perfect songwriter, the perfect boyfriend. And as much as you believe he’s perfect, you always tell him he doesn’t have to be—he just has to give his best and not push himself too hard.

That doesn’t make him safe from some teasing, though.

“You are a vampire! Vampire Chan who doesn’t know how to make pasta. It’s garlic pasta. That’s the recipe. The point is the garlic.” You say, leaning back towards him.

“Fine. More it is.” Chan pokes your arm as he turns around, grabbing another clove of garlic and starting to chop it into small pieces. He misses your self-satisfied smile.

The smell of garlic begins to fill the kitchen; you can’t tell if it’s from what’s currently cooking in the saucepan or what Chan’s cutting, but it’s lovely. “That smells delicious already.”

“Glad you like it, baby.” He scrapes the cutting board into the saucepan, and the sizzling sound gets louder as he begins to stir it with a wooden spatula.

You hop off the counter and step behind Chan, draping your arms around his waist and perching your face beside his arm, watching what he’s doing. He glances down at you, but in that glance, you catch something deeper.

He looks at you like you’re his world. He looks at you like he loves you in the way that you love him—wholly, unconditionally. The affectionate smile on his lips, in his eyes, lets you know that your love is not one-sided.

He stirs the sauce he’s making. “Can you get the heavy cream for me, my love?”

You press a kiss to his (remarkably buff) arm. “Sure.” You get it from the fridge, screw off the lid, and put it beside him on the counter.

“Thank you.” He picks it up, his attention on the saucepan as he pours it in, stirring as he does so.

“Looks delicious.”

“Think it’s got enough garlic now?” He’s still looking at the pan, but there’s a smile in his voice.

You nod. “I think it’s good now.”

“Wonderful. I live to make your perfect pasta.”

“You’re doing a great job.” You say, and then, softer, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” Chan glances up for a moment to press a haphazard kiss to your face. It lands beside your eye, and you giggle.

Those words, that kiss—you’re his, completely.

And he’s yours.