Kai Parker being the most annoying boyfriend in the whole wide world. I'm talking taking your phone and hiding it for no other reason than you weren't paying him enough attention. Stealing your underwear. Stealing your class notes, then having the audacity to act like it wasn't him, even going as far as to help you look for them. lifting up books, looking into different desk draws, saying,'' I don't know babe, are you sure you didn't leave them at the library?'' Waking you up at the ass crack of dawn because you have, in his opinion, slept for too long, and he's started to grow bored. Starting a cult and not telling you about it until one of his followers tries to make some kind of move on you (where they then subsequently...disappear). Leaving half-eaten packets of Pork Puffs around the kitchen (please don't get me started on this one). Getting into as many arguments on Twitter as he can about ALL sorts of things and then making you sit beside him and read aloud all of his replies and responses. Smiling proudly at the reactions he was able to illicit. Sending you about one thousand different Instagram reels. Not wanting you to go anywhere without him. Super into corny matching stuff. Super into abbreviated words. But I'm talking so abbreviated you're not sure if the text message is supposed to mean something or if he just hit the keyboard at random and then pressed send.
Hey Guys, I just wanted to ask that if you want me to write something for you, could you please request it instead of sending a submission as I can’t directly respond to those. A long-time follower of mine, @hausonchikenleg, requested something from me, and this is for them, though the formatting is a little off because of the submission type post.
The request is: “I haven’t read any fanfic so I don’t know if it’s realistic to do because maybe it’s not in his character? if it’s not, then no, but if it is, and kai parker is my favorite fictional character and I love it when my favorite fictional characters suffer, so! kai parker cries - that’s it, for whatever reason, whether from anger or frustration, I don’t know but it would definitely suit him uwu
…or him screaming o//w//o”
I hope you like what I've written!! It has a little bit of Kai crying but mainly the two of them being horrible. WARNING: Kai and Reader are EQUALLY as abusive to one another. Here there are guns, blood, and a little bit of smutt.
He’d shot at you with a BB gun. Told you it would only hurt if you moved, and that anyways, after yesterday, even if it did hurt you deserved it. You hadn’t tried to reason with him, instead you turn over on your stomach, pointed to your ass and said: “Go crazy Kai. I can’t be worried when I know all you’re good for is shooting blanks.”
You’d felt particularly cleaver for that. Afterall, you’d taken some of the xanies you’d found from a pharmacy back in LA, and so nothing right now felt completely, or rather, wholly, important. Other than the fact that that you needed to lay down and enjoy the beauty that was this random house in Sunnyvale.
Occupants? Just you and Kai. The only two people in the world.
Your apathy was irritating Kai, especially when the BB gun jammed the first time he aimed for you, ready for the pellet to hit you in the head. It wouldn’t kill you, only burn the way a rubber band snapping would. And all of this because you had started to learn what could hurt his feelings. Not just get under his skin, but more deliberately hurt whatever underdeveloped set of emotions he had been born with. You’d called his music taste dumb last night, when he was trying to be sweet on you, even though it wasn’t. It was your standard teen-angst playlist of the nineties, nothing ground breaking. Nirvana, Red Hot Chilli Peppers and some other songs you wouldn’t ever listen too, that you told him was basically just, “school shooter music.”
He had pushed you off his bed for that. Let you drop to the floor before telling you get out.
“Go sleep outside then. See if I care.”
You had laughed at him, pushing his head slightly to mess with him. “Awww, is someone upset.”
"Piss off."
"Come onnn, all because I don't get the whole Columbine thing?" You laughed. "Yeah whatever, Kai's just being a lil babes."
"Stop talking. And get out."
"Nope. I am quite comfortable here, actually."
“I said: GET THE FUCK OUT!” He got off the bed, grabbed you by your arm and dragging you out. You had tried not to laugh at him, tried not to make this worse but you couldn’t help it.
“Awwwww, noo. Kai don’t be such a baby about this!”
He’d pulled your hair hard before slamming the door to the bedroom he had claimed as his own.
“BAM!” The pellet hit your ass and you yelped, jumping three feet up into the air. “You ASSHOLE!”
“Awww….” He mimicked you from last night, now with a faux look for sympathy, “Is someone upset? Don’t be such a baby about this! It doesn’t hurt at all.”
“Oh yeah?” You were pissed now, your high ruined. “Let me shoot you then.”
“No chance. You’ve got the worse coordination in the world.”
“Not true!” You said, indignant.
“So totally true. Now bend over I’m still not finished.”
“Go to hell.” You jumped off the couch, heading towards him. He shot you again, and again and again as he ran around the room towards the open glass sliding doors. He kept missing but that didn’t stop you from shutting your eyes every time the gun would click.
You got a hold of his shirt, and pulling, you’d managed to grab the bb gun off him.
“Ha!” You tired to shoot at his foot but the trigger jammed.
“Ha! Right back babe.”
Oh that pissed you right off. So you impulsively swung at him with the barrel at the gun, hitting him right on the nose. Blood spurted out almost immediately. The whiplash of it all leaving Kai looking equal parts surprised and in pain. He grabbed his nose. Eyes watering, tears running down his face…but he wasn’t crying. It’s just what happened when you hit your nose: your eyes water. He’d told you that so many times that you think that he might have accidentally manifested this moment.
You threw the bb gun out of the door. It skid off the balcony, right through the small marble pillar barrier, dropping somewhere in the garden. You didn't care.
Kai let go of his nose and let it continue bleeding all over him. “It’s not broken.” He said and you nodded. Sick, suddenly, at the fact that you had reacted so….Kai like.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“I do.”
You offered him a tight lipped smile. “Kai I’m really sorry. I really, really am. You can…hit me back if you like.”
“No. It’s whatever.”
That answer only bad you feel worse. “Well, urm, I can kiss it better if you like?”
He looked at you really hard then, like you had just asked him to recount his final days outside the prison world. Outside of this confinement. But in that same moment his face broke off into a lazy smile. "Only if you take your shirt off while you do. Those are my conditions woman."
You rolled your eyes. "You're actually such a virgin."
There was something tentative to the way he threw himself onto the couch, his white shirt now all red. Not wanting to jostle himself too much. Had you really hurt him bad? “You’re welcome to change that if you like. Now, what was this you were saying about feeling so bad over hurting an innocent like me.”
You sighed, but couldn’t deny it. Living so impulsively here felt like a new kind of freedom, even as you begun to lose control of all of your resolve.
“Kai I can’t do it all on my own, you have to help me take off my shirt.”
He swallowed. “Seriously.”
You nodded. “But only after your nose feels better.”
“My nose has never felt better. Now come closer so I can help you.”
Chat, in all seriousness, do you think Kai Parker would vape???
Because I fear he would pick it up to try, at least once, to see what all the fuss is about. But knowing him as he is, faults and all, I know he'd stick with it. Part of me thinks he would do so because of how he has been set up to function, fixating on things that ease his anxiety, but then, another part of me knows he would stick too it because of how douche it would make him look. Just imagine the side eyes DAMON would be giving him.
Just imagine you're studying in your room, he's on your bed, and then suddenly the room fills with lemon-strawberry-scented sweetness. You turn to look at him to ask, quite naturally: 'What the fuck?' and you just catch him staring contemplatively at the ceiling, vape in mouth, as he looks as if he's trying to figure out the mystery that is life (what he wants to eat for lunch).
Kai watches you smoke with a kind of stillness that makes your skin prickle. He’s not judging. He’s not even really looking at the cigarette — he’s looking at you, like he can’t figure out what you are. Like you’re a spell he half-remembered wrong.
You stare past him, toward the elm trees bent like old women in the distance. The morning is damp. Your socks are wet from the porch boards, and the smoke clings to your lips.
“You’re different out here,” he says finally.
You don’t answer.
He doesn’t know why he wants to stay. Only that he does.
Not to be NSFW on main or anything, but I just know that sex with Kai would not be fun. Not because it would be bad or anything, but because he would use this moment where you were incredibly vulnerable with him to try to hurt you somehow. For example: It would be rough, but not in a consensual way like it is in BDSM. He would slap you, hard, out of nowhere, just to see what you would do.
Will share more of my thoughts if the masses are interested.
Kai is horrible. It's happening outside in the dark. Low self-esteem. They're not together. She's just lonely and he makes use of that.
The forest behind your grandmother’s house smells like copper and pine and the kind of earth that never dries. The pine needles prick your knees through your jeans, and you think one might be breaking skin. You don’t move. You stay on your hands and knees, on all fours. The stars are a cold smear above you, and Kai is inside you, tugging your hair back like he wants to rip it out strand by strand. You wouldn’t stop him if he tried, which is nice, you think: you wonder if there’s something romantic in that.
He had said something about playing cards when he showed up. He had an old grimore in hand but no cards. You can’t help but feel stupid for believing him, even if it was for just half a second. He always lies when he wants something. You want to hate him for it but you’re no better.
Somewhere in the distance, a bug zapper flickers — it’s one of the old ones your grandmother used to hang near the screen door. You still clean them, even though she’s no longer here to say well done, or thank you. It sounds like someone being electrocuted in miniature. But it’s a noise that brings comfort. You used to lay in her bed, next to her, towards the end, and listen to the bugs fry together.
You focus on that. You focus on the carpet you need to vacuum in her bedroom, even though she's dead now. Even though you never ever go in there. You focus on the steady buzz and snap. The sour, battery-sweet scent of it carried faintly through the trees.
You're not crying. You never cry during. But there’s a burning behind your eyes that you’re trying not to name. You think of the text from Matt you didn’t answer. He’s a good guy, I promise. And you feel like the worse person in the world. The guy he set you up with had a normal name. Jake, maybe. Josh. You knew him in high school — popular-adjacent. Always surrounded by laughter that wasn’t for you.
“Thinking about your boyfriend?” Kai says, breath hot and mean against your neck. He drags his teeth over the place your pulse is weakest. “That’s cute.” He does it again, this time making sure it hurts.
You don’t answer. You’re counting his breaths instead. Each one ends with a grunt, low and pleased, like he’s really into this. Like he’s really into you. He sounds like a man starved. Enzo used to make jokes about how long Kai had probably used his hand. You want to think that’s not it. You want to think it’s because you feel good. Not that he’s a man starved for puss.
He starts going faster now, almost ready to burst. His pace brutal as he hits it from behind, but you’ve become very good at floating above it. You can feel the condensation in the air catch in your eyelashes. You can feel the fabric of your shirt tug where he’s yanked it up. You can feel him.
You just don’t want to.
His hand closes around your throat. Not enough to choke. Just to hold. Like a leash. You think of the cards he never brought. Of the dinner you weren’t going to attend. You imagine the guy — Jake or Josh or whoever — sitting at the bar at the Grill, nervously scanning the door. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he’d call to tell he couldn’t make it in any second now. You imagine Matt’s face when he finds out. That’s what makes your stomach twist. Not this. Not Kai. Not the way he slaps your ass hard enough to bruise and laughs when you jolt forward.
“You like this too much,” Kai says. It’s not a question. “I could fuck you anywhere, couldn’t I? Just bend you over and—”
You flinch, but you don’t stop him. You never do. That’s what he likes best about you. The quiet. The way you don’t fight. The way you let him say things like that and pretend he means it.
A toothpick is still in your pocket from the last time you were at the Grill. You roll it between your fingers, grounding yourself. You picture it pressed flat into your palm like a tiny cross. You wonder if it’s possible to believe in something just by holding it long enough. You're sure the pine needles on the floor have stained your jeans.
He finishes with a sharp sound and presses a kiss to your neck that feels worse than anything else. It’s wet. Pointless. Practiced. It burns a little, and when he sees you wipe his kiss away, he does it again and again and again until you don't bother anymore.
“You’re so lucky no one else wants you,” he tells you with a tenderness that makes him sound like he's so sure he's doing you a favour.
You stay on your knees a little longer, until your breath steadies. You say nothing to him as you pull your jeans back up. You wish your Grandmother were still here. You wish you still had somebody to play cards with.
Kai spits to the side. And you let yourself admit, in these moments, that there's something attractive to the way his dark hair sticks to his forehead after he's done with you. Covered in sweat and blushing. But only then. He asks if you've got something to eat inside and you mubble a yes.
