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kashimos-hajime · 6 years

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Pachelbel’s Canon in Disaster

Request: firstly I just want to say that your writing is insanely good & I love reading your stuff. secondly i wanted to know if I could send in a Kavinsky request if that's ok? you invite peter to a family function to meet your extended family & he's nervous because he's afraid that they wont like him because they kinda have a thing about dating within your race (I'm coloured/black btw) its always something i worry about sadly but if you don't feel comfortable writing this that's fine

A/N: That sucks that you have to deal with that anon. I hope your family opens up soon and you can love who you want to love. Unfortunately, I didn’t write it as a black reader because I am not black and I don’t want to offend anyone by using stereotypes. Therefore, I used people of my own race (Chinese) and went from there. Hopefully, it’s okay! I mostly wrote fluff for this because I don’t think I can bring myself to write such hate right now. Sorry for such a long wait.

As the usual, thank you to @teawithbucky for being the OG.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When you’re invited to your cousin’s traditional Chinese wedding, your boyfriend’s feelings about meeting more of your family resurface and while you don’t want him uncomfortable, you do want him to go. So, it’s up to you to convince him.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky, Chinese!Reader

Wordcount: 1.8k

Rating: K+ (soft, sweet fluff)

You knead the back of your neck with your fingers as you wait for the water to boil. It’s nearly there and you just want to make some noodles. There’s a soft rhythmatic pad of footsteps and you turn around to see Peter coming down the stairs with the messiest bedhead you’ve ever seen. Your other housemates are either asleep or out so you have to house to yourselves as long as you’re quiet.

“Morning,” he calls sleepily, collapsing on the couch in the living room. “You’re home?”

“Because it’s noon,” you reply as you start seeing the bubbles you’ve been waiting for. Taking out a frozen slab of udon, you slip it into the water and cover the pot. “You want some lunch?”

“Yes, please,” he says, voice scraping hoarsely. You smile at him, shaking your head as he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen, sitting on one of the tall stools at the counter. Heading around to him, you press a kiss to the side of his head before pecking his lips. His arms wrap around you, pressing his face into your stomach. “Squishy,” he mumbles into your middle and you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair.

You and Peter have been dating since he saw you at the movie theatre. You two hit it off since he saw you at the release of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 at your local cinema and had argued profusely over who was your favorite (yours being Yondu, his being Gamora, which then led to an argument if Yondu even counted as a Guardian, which led to you winning and him asking you out and you saying if he ever had the luck to see you again). Over a few chance encounters, you found yourself becoming close friends and then falling head over heels in love, leading to you taking the initiative and asking him out.

The two of you now live in a house along with three others that go to a university with Peter. You yourself is an aspiring actor and have just landed a role in a TV show that’s meant to be a mid-season replacement. Hopefully it hits off.

“You don’t have work today?”

“I already finished my scenes,” you say. “I woke up at midnight, drove over, finished at ten this morning.” He raises his head, chin against your stomach and you grin hopelessly at his wide brown eyes and tangled brown hair that falls into his eyes.

“You didn’t wake me up?”

“You were binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine again,” you say with a sigh. Brushing hair away from his forehead, you bend over and kiss his forehead. He smiles as you pull away and go to the pot to make sure it doesn’t burn. You take the chopsticks that are resting atop the bowl and stir around the noodles, separating them. As you do so, your phone rings and you glance over your shoulder to look at the ID. When you see it’s your mom, you look to Peter.

“Can you answer that? It’s my mom.” He takes the phone, swiping to accept the call.

“Hey, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” You turn back to your pot as Peter makes conversation with your mom. You know they get along fairly well since introducing them a few months ago and you like how they interact so you just continue cooking. Covering the pot again, you go to the freezer and pull out some dumplings you had bought before coming home this morning. Peter has a smile on his face as he talks and you use your chopsticks to transfer the noodles to a bowl and pour the pepper and green onion dressing you had prepared earlier, tossing it so it coats the noodles evenly before sticking the chopsticks into the bowl and placing it on the counter across Peter.

You slide the bowl over to him and he stops it with a hand before removing the phone from his ear.

“Your mom wants to talk to you,” he said, taking the bowl and starting to slurp on his noodles. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn off the stove and go to sit beside Peter. The dumplings can wait.

“Hey, Mom,” you start in Chinese. “What’s going on?” Peter spares you a glance when you start speaking your native language, smiling and kissing your cheek. Turning your head, you ask silently for another on your lips and he obliges quickly before returning back to his noodles.

“Did you check your mail lately?”

“Yeah? Why, is there something important in there?” you ask, trying to think back to the contents you had quickly scanned before setting it on the small cabinet near the stairs. There were bills, ads, and magazines, nothing more but-

Oh, wait.

“Oh, the wedding invite! Yes, I got it, plus he emailed me yesterday to make sure.” Getting up, you go said cabinet and take out the white envelope with the card within. Bringing it back to the kitchen, you open it and slide out the card.

“Can you make it or do you have filming on that day?” Checking the calendar hanging on the wall with a quick look, you shake your head before remembering your mom couldn’t see you.

“No, it should be fine. Unless I’m pulled for reshoots, I should be done by March so I can make it,” you say and you hear your mom giggle on the other end.

“I can’t wait to see your cousin in a suit,” she says nefariously and you sigh, eyes resting on Peter who’s sipping on his soup. “You should bring Peter along, have him meet the family.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Bye, Mom.” Hanging up, you set your phone down and read over the invitation. Seeing as it’s January, you highly doubt the director would pull you in for reshoots when the weather is completely gone in March. The series is nearly in post production and you sigh, leaning forward on your elbows.

“What?” Peter asks, setting his now empty bowl in the sink. You sigh, coming around to stand by him near the sink as he begins to fill the bowl up with water so nothing will stain. He turns to you and you loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down. Kissing him multiple times, you just savour in his presence. There hasn’t been enough time between you lately and as the snow outside layered on the sill of the window, you just brush noses with him.

“I have to go to a wedding,” you mumble, lost in his scent, as his hands settle on your hips. He’s always had this effect on you. “My mom said I should bring you as my plus one.” He frowns and your eyes scan his face, not exactly confused. He’s always shied away from meeting your family, with your differences. In fact, he had made you make sure he learned everything he could about what was proper and what wasn’t, teach him how to make chopsticks, and even when he became a regular guest, Peter always helped with the dishes and tried to be almost overly helpful.

Now, his worry had faded away after a long stalemate in the war between you and your parents. They had hated that you brought some guy who seemed lazy, sleazy, and white, and you hated that they never saw past that. The only reason you are now on speaking terms is the fact that Peter proved them wrong and they let go of their prejudices. Still, clearly the confrontation lingers in Peter’s mind as much as it does in yours from time to time. You hate to see it resurface as a much bigger beast at the thought of meeting your extended family when the two of you had thought that part of the war was over.

“And?”

“Well, do you want to come?” you ask nervously. “You don’t have to but it’ll be nicer if you’re there.” You search his face, reading every inch of his hesitation.

“I’ll think about it.” You cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek and smile.

“Okay.” Pulling away, you sigh and he leans down to press his lips into your hair. Your hands trail down his neck and onto his arms, holding him there until you are ready to leave.

The topic becomes a dreaded subject. Every time one of you sees the calender with the red circle around the date of the wedding, either you or Peter leave the room. You hate how your relationship changed but you can’t help it. Especially because it’s a traditional chinese marriage, you know it just amps up the pressure on Peter to accept. If he says no, it may seem like he’s disrespecting your culture because he doesn’t think it’s worth his time. If he says yes, he may think or say or do something he thinks is wrong and therefore not have any fun at all.

When there are two weeks before the wedding, you and him are hanging out in your shared bed. You’re resting at the head of the bed, back against the headboard as you work on your newest resumé while he’s sprawled across the end of the bed on his back, scrolling through his phone and reading the textbook he downloaded onto his phone.

You sneak glances up at him, trying to approach the subject carefully. You don’t know how to say it, nor how to broach the subject but you want him to come. You want to show off your boyfriend like everyone else in your family does, and you want him to meet people you’ve grown up with all your life.

“So… it’s two weeks away,” he finally says, letting his phone and his hands drop to his sides. “I still don’t know whether or not I want to come. I’ve thought about it,” he adds, propping himself up on an elbow and turning to you. “Believe me, I have.”

“I know.” You close your laptop and set it aside as he crawls up between your legs and rests his head on your tummy. Threading your fingers through his hair, you sigh. “You’ve been using that brain more often than usual,” you tease, leaning over and pecking his forehead. He glares and scrunches up his face at you but you merely sigh, remembering the situation.

“I want to go, (Y/N). You know I do. I just can’t-”

“I can teach you. Everything I know about traditional weddings; everything from clothes to food to manners. We can start and if you feel ready by the date of the wedding, we can go together, okay?” A hopeful smile crosses his face and he sits up.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What do you think?” Leaning over, he kisses you hard against the lips and you laugh into it as the two of you roll over in bed. He gently moves your laptop to the nightstand as you land on top of him.

“I think it’s a fantastic plan.” Beaming, you lean down and your noses brush.

Two weeks later, Peter stands beside you at the wedding reception, your hand in his.

Your smiles can not be brighter.

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @itzyagirlrae

#to all the boys i've loved before #to all the boys i've loved before x reader #to all the boys i've loved before movie #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys ive loved before x reader #tatbilb #tatbilb x reader #tatbilb fanfic #tatbilb fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfic #to all the boys i've loved before fanfiction #to all the boys i've loved before fanfic #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky fanfiction #my writing #peter kavinsky fanfic

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