Burning Black | Yu x Reader
⋆｡˚ 🍙 ˚｡⋆｡˚ 🍵 ˚｡⋆ Request!! ❤️
Yu had always been thoughtful.
From the moment you started dating, he had gone out of his way to accommodate your picky eating habits. Restaurants were chosen with you in mind. Ingredients were swapped out without complaint. Some nights, he’d even make separate dishes just so you could enjoy eating together.
And somehow, he never once acted like it was a burden.
Which only made the guilt worse.
Because while Yu would do anything for you, what had you really done for him?
You couldn’t cook. Not even a little.
Sure, you could make instant ramen and maybe scrambled eggs on a good day, but anything more complicated than that? Absolutely not.
Still, after hearing how exhausted he sounded over text, you decided something.
Tonight, you were going to cook for Yu.
The first stop was TikTok.
Surely the app that taught people how to make cloud bread and the best Mac and Cheese could teach you how to cook, right?
Thirty minutes later, you stared blankly at your phone.
Your search history was filled with things like:
And somehow, despite watching countless videos, you had learned absolutely nothing other then the fact JYP needs to close the gyms 😻.
Pinterest was much more promising.
After scrolling through recipe after recipe, you finally settled on a menu.
Tuna onigiri, Japanese curry rice, and matcha cookies.
You stared at the list with a grimace. There was just one tiny problem. You hated almost every ingredient.
Yu had always been incredibly sweet about your picky eating habits. He never complained when you picked mushrooms out of dishes or wrinkled your nose at fish. Matcha? You swore it tasted like someone had blended up grass and called it dessert.
Yet Yu loved those foods and tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him.
Determined, you tied your hair back and got to work. To your surprise, things started off pretty well. The rice went into the cooker. Vegetables were chopped. Though, as you sliced mushrooms, your face twisted into a look of pure disgust.
“Eugh,” you muttered. “How does anyone eat these?”
The curry simmered on the stove while you moved onto the cookies.
You carefully whisked the matcha powder into the batter. It smelled exactly like grass. Your opinion remained unchanged.
Soon enough, everything had reached the waiting stage.
The rice was cooking. The curry was simmering. The cookies were baking.
There was nothing left to do but wait. Which, unfortunately, meant only one thing.
You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until—
You scrambled onto a chair, waving a towel at the smoke detector like your life depended on it. After what felt like an eternity, the alarm finally stopped.
Silence. You exhaled. Then slowly turned toward the stove.
The curry was burnt. Completely burnt.
Apparently turning the heat to high because you wanted it to cook faster had done the exact opposite of helping.
Maybe the rice survived, please let the rice survive.
You opened the rice cooker.
It would appear that someone had absolutely no idea how much water rice needed.
You stared into the cooker.
“Well shit,” you repeated quietly.
At least the cookies… The cookies had to be okay.
You pulled them from the tray and let them cool for a few minutes before picking one up.
The bottom was dark green.
Not a promising sign. Still, you took a bite. It was like biting into a hockey puck. You nearly chipped a tooth. Everything was ruined.
The sound of keys. Your heart dropped.
“I’m here!” his voice called out cheerfully.
Panic surged through you.
Before he could step any farther into the apartment, you rushed over and practically threw yourself at him.
Flour dusted your hair. Sauce stained your shirt. There was something green on your cheek that he was almost afraid to identify.
He tilted his head. “…Love?”
“Oh, you know…” you laughed weakly. “Stuff.”
“…Why does it smell like something’s burning?”
He took a step toward the kitchen.
“Then why are you yelling?”
“Do you wanna sit down and talk first?!”
He looked even more suspicious now.
“That’s fine,” he said slowly. “But it definitely smells like something is burning.”
Before he could walk away, you grabbed his arm.
Or at least you tried. Because apparently you had forgotten that Yu was ridiculously strong. He kept walking.
You were basically skiing across the carpet.
One look into the kitchen was all it took.
Rice that looked questionable at best.
A battlefield of bowls, measuring cups, and ingredients.
The kitchen a whole ass mess.
“…What happened?” he asked softly.
And then, you told him everything.
How he’d always taken care of you. How he always accommodated your eating habits without complaint. How you knew he missed food from home. How you wanted to do something for him for once.
When you finally finished, the apartment fell silent.
Not an “I’m making fun of you” laugh.
One of those bright, heartwarming laughs that made your chest feel warm.
“This is the cutest thing ever,” he said through a smile.
“Nothing even turned out right.”
Yu’s expression softened instantly.
He stepped forward and pulled you into his arms.
You melted against his chest.
“You tried for me,” he said quietly. “That’s more important than any food.”
Your heart nearly stopped.
Then he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“But I didn’t even make anything.”
Yu only held you tighter.
Tears threatened to form in your eyes.
So instead, you mumbled into his chest,
“…Should we just order something?”
Yu glanced at the destroyed kitchen.
“Well shit we kind of have to.”
You pulled back immediately.
“This kitchen is a disaster.”
His laughter filled the apartment again the kind that always made you laugh too.
And as the two of you opened a delivery app together, you decided that maybe love wasn’t about making perfect food.
Sometimes, it was just about trying.
