* Him thinking you’re a witch at first

* Him being thoroughly surprised when he finds out you’re not 

* At first you really don’t like him

* You think he’s hot tho

* Your first kiss wasn’t even a kiss, it was a makeout session

* Hand holding

* I think I love you

* Cheek kisses

* Some bomb ass sex

* Like seriously

* It’s incomparable

* Especially because he uses magic on you

* Choking

* Back scratches

*Blood sharing

*HICKIES

* Him being obsessive

* and possessive

* Damon turning you just to hurt Kai

* You lovingthe feeling of his rings against your skin

* You absolutely melting when he smirks

* “Oh honey”

* Him breaking down to you

* You constantly reminding him that he’s loved 

* Vamp sex

* Shower sex

* Magic sex

* Sex in a public bathroom

* Sex in the woods

* You lay on his chest

* He loves to play with your hair

* He’s super flirty sometimes

* You wear nothing but his shirt and panties to bed

* Him watching how gorgeous you are

*Heatedarguments

* “No, Y/n”

* “Why”

* “Because I said no!”

* He usually ends up apologizing

* Makeup sex

* Him loving to watch you dance

* Especially when it’s just for him

* “I’m not going anywhere”

Imagine: Sam overhearing you crying to Dean about how badly your relationship is falling apart.

Kinda angsty-ish then gets fluffy

Word Count: 887

Sam stormed off, leaving you in the library with tears in your eyes. You and Sam had been having fights lately, they weren’t big, in fact, they were a whole bunch of small things over the course of years that had just built up and exploded and spread out into the span of a month. You heard a door slam in the distance and you jumped. It sucked, seeing Sam broken, and not knowing what to do with the pieces. You were sure that he had noticed too, all of the smallest things would set him off; whether it was the cap of toothpaste not being screwed back on, or you taking too long of showers. It used to never be like this, you guys used to be happy.

You walked down the corridor and went into the kitchen. You still had red eyes and puffy cheeks but it didn’t matter, you knew Sam would still be in your guys’ room and wouldn’t be out until a little later, and Dean had gone to the store for some food. You entered the kitchen and grabbed a glass off the drying rack and filled it up with water. You were still sniffling as you sat down at the table, you still felt like you were going to cry but you didn’t want to. Crying made you feel weak, and that was not something you ever liked to feel. You took a sip of your water and looked down.

“You okay?” A voice spoke, you looked up to see Dean with grocery bags in hand.

“Yeah”

He walked over and set the bags down on the counter before walking back over to the table you were at and sat down

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, “It’s nothing.”

“Obviously it’s something, Y/n talk to me.” He said, smiling, his eyes were soft.

You paused, looking at Dean. He genuinely looked like he wanted to hear about your problems. It was no secret that you and Sam were having struggles, it woke the whole bunker up when you guys fought, but Dean had been quiet about it, save the sympathetic looks he would slip you whenever it got bad. You still talked to him about everything, leaving some things out.

Sam had taken a shower and cooled off. He dried himself off and slipped on some sweats and a shirt. He decided to go find you and apologize, or at least talk, hopefully without the yelling. He walked down the hall, checking the library then Dean’s room. He knew you guys were close and that you talked a lot. He came up empty in both rooms. He wandered back down the hall hearing your and Dean’s voice coming from the kitchen.

“I just don’t know if it’s worth it anymore.”

He heard your hoarse voice, he froze right around the corner of the door. Was she talking about their relationship?

“Y/n don’t say that. I have never seen two people more perfect for each other than you guys.”
Dean’s voice sounded apologetic.

“Then why do we fight over such stupid things? Things have changed, I don’t even know if he still wants to be together, if he even still loves me!”

Dean hadn’t said anything in response, it was quiet.

It broke Sam’s heart that you could think that. Of course he loved you, he could never stop, even if he wanted to.

“Listen to me, believe me or don’t. But Sam loves you, he’s crazy about you. It’s actually kind of sickening how in love he really is. I can’t tell you what you feel, but I see the way that you guys are with each other, all the looks and everything, that’s love if I’ve ever seen it.”

There was silence again. Dean was right though, where had you guys gone so wrong. Everyone was stressed and it had taken a toll on your relationship. Sam listened for anything else for your guys’ conversation but it was silent. Sam sighed, trying to figure out what to do next. He walked away, heading towards your guys’ room.

Your chair slid out from the table and you stood up. You walked down the hall and stopped at the familiar door. You stared at it, trying to decide what you were going to say to Sam when you walked in the room. You knocked softly, on the other side you could hear the bed creak. Sam opened the door and looked down at you.

You sucked in a breath. He looked a little rough, his eyes were red and his hair was messy, like he hadn’t brushed it. But he still looked great. Dean was right, you really did love him, and hopefully, he did too.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke shakily.

Sam pulled you into a hug. He took in your scent, it had been so long since you had been this close, he missed it, and he missed you.

“Y/n, you have nothing to be sorry for. I was being a dick.”

It felt good to not be screaming at each other for a change.

“Sam I-“

You were cut off.

“It’s okay.” He pulled you in tighter.

“I’m sorry, for everything.” He sighed, resting his head on your head. All he wanted was to stay like this forever.

Preferences 1

If this doesn’t flop terribly I might do a part two with different characters

Sam

As much as you guys tried to resist the cliches you found yourself shopping for them anyway. Sam really wanted to go for a layered flannel look but you finally talked him out of it and into being a pirate. Dean made fun of you guys for your matching costumes but you guys didn’t care. 

Dean

You and he had almost no communication while planning this, as you were the one choosing the costumes. You had planned to go as Batman and Catwoman as a tribute to Dean’s idol but somewhere along the line he got messed up and chose a completely unrelated partnering costume to yours. After the party though, he showed you just how hot you looked in your costume if you know what I mean.

Cas

As most expect you went as devils, he was confused as to why you had chosen that or as to why you had to dress up at all. After a while of explaining the purpose of Halloween, he was eventually sold because of the facts that there would most likely be candy. He gladly slipped on his devil horns. Sam and Dean weren’t amused by what you chose, but Cas didn’t care, as long as you wore that he didn’t hear anything anyone else was saying.

* It taking a while for him to open up to you

* Him always being super protective

* You watching him work out

* Jake completely geeking over you

* Him trying to surprise you with breakfast on your birthday but he usually ends up burning it

* Very steamy goodnight cuddles ;)

* Him laying on your chest 

* He’s the big spoon

* You sometimes wearing his Police shirt or jacket around the house

* Cop car sex

* Shower sex

* Sloppy neck kisses

* Passionate reunited kissing

* Being worried out of your mind that Jake didn’t make it home before the cordon

* You guys hunkering down at the hospital together

* You being worried sick whenever he goes on his rounds

* Him being jealous of Cannerts because he flirts with you

* Jake watching you sleep when he can’t 

* Him being a complete fucking dork around you

* He’s overly catious when it comes to you leaving the hospital

* You guys trying to abide by the 4 - 6 foot rule but failing miserably

* Him being a sex god

* Like no joke

* He’s a god

* He’s a dom

* Quickies wherever it’s sanitary

* You guys attempting to cuddle on the hospital cots but failing

* Back scratching

* Jake always trying to give you his rations

* Comforting him and letting him cry to you whenever everything gets too much for him

* Playing with his hair

* You guys always staying up and talking about your future outside of the cordon

* You guys being completely in love

* Taking care of him when he gets hurt

* Him constantly fake hitting on you as if you guys had never met

* Him proposing to you with a bread twisty tie

go check it outhere 

(Part 2 to The Sociopath)

So like literally all of my writing this was done at 4:08 am and is probably terrible but whatcha gonna do, anyway part two was requested a lot. So I decided I’m going to keep this going in a smutty direction I hope you guys like it, Send me requests!

Masterlist

You clutched the piece of paper in your hand as you crossed the street. You knew not to do this, it was against your better judgment, yet here you were, on your way to a destination that no one knew you were going to. Of course, you had thought about telling Stefan but you knew he’d stop you and it wasn’t something that he would have been okay with. 

Meet me at our place - kp You crumpled the paper and tossed it into the nearby trash can before opening the door which led to the foreclosed house that he had previously held you in. 

The door was still torn off the hinges and pieces of broken chair littered the living room. You walked in silence too aware to say anything, your eyes darted from object to object trying to find any sign that someone was here. 

“Finally.” A voice rung out from the chair behind you. The chair turned around like some villain in a superhero movie. He got up and walked towards you, not taking his eyes off you. You could feel your heart pounding from inside you, hell, he could probably hear it from outside your body. “Kai.” You breathed as he took his final step, only inches away from you. “Hi,” he spoke softly.

“It took you so long I didn’t think you were coming.” He smiled. “Neither did I,” You said looking down. Kai lifted your chin up with his finger, everything inside you told you to push him off you or run away but you really didn’t want to. You looked back up, staring back at him. 

He looked different more grown, more attractive, for a psycho killer. You pulled away from his hand and walked over to the chair that he had gotten up from, you plopped yourself down on it and looked out the window. “Why did you send me that note?” You finally asked, he walked closer to you, stopping about two feet away. 

“We need to talk about us.” He said confidently. Your eyes snapped over to him. “What do you mean us? There is no us. I’m with Stefan, we’re doing fine.” Kai sighed and chuckled and took a couple steps forward. “Notice how you said fine and not great?” He questioned. Admittedly you and Stefan had been having some problems, but what couple wouldn’t with all of the shit that you guys go through. What kind of relationship wouldn’t be as problematic with monster after monster, villain after villain, and yet here you were talking with the most dangerous one about your slippery relationship. 

You stayed silent and looked down. You heard his footsteps come closer, then a finger was placed under your chin again and you were forced to look back up. “I’m better than him; at protecting you,” he said slowly, looking at your lips before speaking again. “At kissing you,” he leaned your chin up to his. His lips connected with yours

He slowly pulled away, opening his eyes “at everything.” He whispered, leaning in again. He placed one hand on the small of your back while the other held your cheek. You could feel your breathing quicken, just by the way his lips felt on yours, the way they fit so perfectly between yours.

He faltered as his nose bumped into yours, you took this as an opportunity to stand up and wrap your arms around his neck. You could feel him smiling as he pulled away, only for a second before moving to your neck. His hot breath danced across the side of your neck causing a shiver to run down your body. You breathed heavily, pulling his face back up to yours and once again kissing him, he lightly bit your bottom lip and smiled. Your heart felt like it was going to explode, it all seemed so wrong but too good to stop. 

Kai groaned as you kissed along his jaw before moving to his neck. His hands groped your body, sending waves of pleasure through you. It all seemed so unreal, almost like it was too good to be true but it was happening and it was great. It was slow and passionate yet fast and hot. 

You finally pulled away from him, breathing hard. He chuckled and brought his thumb up to your bottom lip, lightly dragging it across. Your breathing faltered at his touch, it was something you craved.

You looked at Kai’s swollen lips, thinking about how just seconds ago those had been on you, his tongue had been inside you his hands had roamed your figure and you smiled. “We still have one little problem to take care of.” He chuckled, looking out the window. You watched as Stefan wandered down the street, completely oblivious as to what had just happened in the foreclosed house he had just passed.

Part 2 here

Warnings: None except light cursing

He chuckled at the tear that had rolled down your cheek before using his finger to wipe it away, he locked eyes with you and brought his hand to his mouth, he licked the tear off his finger, still holding your gaze. You broke the contact and looked down at your bound wrists.

You finally looked up at the monster of a man in front of you. He made you sick, killing people and ruining lives meant nothing to him, he saw it all as a mere game. And to your surprise, he hadn't laid a hand on you, yet, except for that brief moment. As much as you wanted to hate him you knew it wasn’t his fault he was a sociopath, but what he chose to do with his lack of guilt and sympathy was completely up to him. 

He was still staring at you, it’s like his eyes had been glued to you ever since you had gotten there. 

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, finally bringing yourself to speak. He looked taken aback that you had the courage to even talk but out of everyone you were one of the few people that had sympathy for him, and not as much fear. He chuckled yet again “I don’t know, maybe torture you.” he spoke as a small smile spread across his face. You took a deep breath and pushed yourself as far back into the chair as you could. 

You looked at him again, “Do you enjoy killing people, being feared?” you asked, watching his expression shift. For maybe the first time this encounter he tore his eyes away from you. 

“I like being a sociopath. You know, I’m not burdened by things like guilt or love.” He said looking down and then looking back up. “Are you sure, not even in your own way, you don’t love anyone, not even one person?” 

He sighed, “Ugh, I forgot you are a psychology major.” He groaned. You slightly smiled, unaware of why Kai Parker remembering something about you made you a little bit happy. 

You looked back up and again he was staring at you, you stared back, noticing how blue his eyes were. “It’s a bitch isn’t it, loving someone?” You asked, hoping to get something out of him to see that he wasn’t all bad. That maybe there was one glimmer of hope to see that there was something in him worth saving. “Yeah.” He breathed. Continuing to stare into your eyes. You could feel a slight grin trying to play on your features. Something about him saying gave you a happy but odd feeling. He leaned forward a tad before stopping and looking at the door behind you. You turned around to see the door being flung open. 

Stefan and Damon walked into the room. “Y/n!” He yelled, running over to you. You looked at where Kai had been to see an empty seat. “Stefan.” You sighed happily. He reached for the ropes, getting burned as he touched them, clever bitch had covered them in vervain. Stefan fought through it and continued to untie you. 

Damon walked back to you and Stefan. “He’s gone,” Damon said, picking up a chair and throwing it across the room. “If Kai wants a fight he’ll show,” Stefan said looking at his brother. You nodded and Stefan put an arm around you ushering you to the door that they had broken off the hinges. As you walked you looked around, spotting a dark shape up in the rafters of the building. 

Kai’s eyes found a way to yours once again, you kept the gaze locked, confused with yourself as to why you weren’t screaming at Damon that you knew where he was, instead you watched his expression soften as he watched you walk out with the brothers. You broke the intense contact when you looked down, smiling softly. 

Since it’s Fall, I really feel like writing. What should I do; a Whitmore Guy prequel or a story about Kai gathering his own coven

I am tired of you

I was sitting here and thinking, wait wait wait, I think I have thought of an idea, what about the reader and kai being in cahoots on friendship basis but also doing it because kinda cute? And my mind is like, congratulations on inventing the wheel idiot

dreams: kitchen

dreams masterlist

kai parker x ruby summers x reader

warnings: GRAPHIC violence

word count: 1209

not even gonna mention the music i feel it’s old of me

Just like that, it was morning. Light, puffy, fresh, pink morning. That kind of pink that makes cotton candy sweet. That gets stuck in your hair with the wind, and smells of sea wherever you are. That glistens on the tops of the roofs, and knocks into windows so gently it wakes up no one. That kind of morning, that splashes mature colors across the sky once it gets confident, and dissolves completely, and one always feels just a little lost in such pure, otherworldly freshness. Absolute cleannes of it confuses. Just like extreme heat, or intense yellow fear, it makes people do… things.

You run into a house, a house just like all others in the row lining up the street. The little house, for average size dreams, not too ambitious or brave, for a future that everybody dreads. One car garage, standard windows, untelling face. But there’s something unnatural there. There’s something behind the closed white door, gaping, even though there’s no opening. Something that makes you run, not even jog, and you flee like the wind, banging on the three little steps up. You put your hand onto the knob and doubt for a second. Just like in a dream… and it is another dream,again, you realize, you just know rather than predict, that something has happened. And you know who it’s to do with, and what trajectory it went. There’s something behind that door that you won’t be able to take, and so, you freeze, your palm caressing the handle, looking into the tiny fake window, black, obscuring what’s inside.

The house now looms over you, like it’s huge. Like it’s a tragic mansion that’s about to crack down and bury you under its ruins, and that would be for the best, as compared with what’s. Inside. It’s like a melody, so sad, you can’t stop listening, while almost pressing your finger firmly on the pause button. It hypnotizes you because grief, unlike momentary joy and untrustworthy happiness, is a part of real pattern of life. Grief, you remember, because at the moment of it you’re truly alive. Aware of your every bone and every cell. Listening to the sounds of nature around, and the moan of the world. Feeling the breeze and the burning heat of the sun in your eyes. Grief weighs more. Grief stops you dead in your tracks, and, seemingly, all these weeks you’ve been seeing these dreams, you’ve learnt the true essence of it. Up until now, it has been almost complete.

You open the door and enter the house, the little hallway that opens to the staircase. The empty, little, nice enough house, a place to die in. The morning light, coming through the windows and colliding with the wood panels on the floor, becomes warm and beige.

You turn and find him in the kitchen.

The boy from your dreams. You never remember his name, but you always know he’s the centerpiece of this world. He means something imminent to you. You ache every time you encounter him, again and again, and it always leaves you restless.

He’s standing above the kitchen sink, and for the first time, his shoulders are shaking. Before you finish struggling, he turns, and you see that he’s not crying; he’s not scared. His face is perfectly white, with deep shadows under cheekbones and eyes; his hair is perfectly dark, absorbing the morning shining. And you realize that in the skies, it’s the blood that he had spilt. He smiles.

His eyes, the deep black and navy, run across your body and then he passes right by you. Ignoring your existence, he heads to the entrance you just freed for him.

“Don’t go upstairs”, he says casually. Your head snaps towards the staircase. You try to imagine, in detail, and fail.

“Glad you didn’t call me here to clean up after you”.

“That”, he turned back to you, already standing on the porch, “later”.

You see that all his shirt, and all his hands, his chin and left cheek, his neck and elbows, and his hips are covered in blood.

He sits down and you join him, but not before you look into the sink he’d been laughing at. Unsuprisingly, there’s a big knife there. Big ass knife, with tiny drops of blood on the gray metal, like finishing touches. The black eye of the sink tells you something you don’t want to hear.

You know what his love language is.

He lets the morning air soothe his face but doesn’t close his eyes. The extatic feeling of murder has already left him; he’s very hard to keep satisfied. He’s a very complicated person, and you know it. And he knows it. He looks at you with understanding and with firm seriousness when you sigh quietly.

“I had to do it. I just had to”.

You know he’s lying. About the headache, and the dreams, and the mania. About the need to do it. You can already almost recall who he is, and you know for sure who’s lying upstairs, with open chest and ribs torn out and standing up like feathers on a disembowelled chicken, in her pyjamas. Her pearl-blonde hair, and puffed lips, her doll face. You would have killed her, too. She does look like an angel.

“And she’s with the angels now?” you ask, playing along.

“Yeah”.

You scratched your knees.

“But for real, though, why?”

A word got hangs in the air, his name, to make it more personal. As you stare into his perfect face, the sight you are gradually growing weary of, because you coud never touch it, you remember.

“Kai”.

He keeps silent for some time. The street is marvelously quiet. If only you could get up that early, you’d go for sunrise walks everyday. Without any doubt, the sunrise is the best time to admire the world around you. So tender, so quiet. So pure, like it just cleans itself like a cat.

“Well, I loved her, I’d told you that”.

He puts his arm around your shoulder and you can smell her blood. You burst into tears, out of jealousy. It’s a grim paradox, wanting to be on her place. You want it, and at the same time, you don’t. All you wish to do is to press your face into the angle of his neck and kiss it. Kiss it forever, until he kisses you back. But he never does it, not even in your dreams.

You wake up crying, and wipe your face with the second pillow. You remember Ruby Summers and what he did to her, the sight Kai performed out of her body. All the intricate disfigurments, the torn out joints and broken little bones, the shredded skin on her shoulders, the carvings on her chest, her untouched face, and the fact he never covered it, that he even wiped the blood off it, to keep it clean. The degree of animalistic violence he brought upon his little victim said clearly how much he used to care for her, and inside of you, the similar bloody angel was weeping now, because he was gone now, and you never got to know if he’d kill you in the end.

dreams: gas station

dreams always lead somewhere - I just gotta figure out where

kai parker x reader // drama, romance, lucid dreams

word count: 646

nuages - through

warnings: abduction, restriction, mentions of murder, control, abuse

masterlist

You’d never noticed before that he had a tiny cut on his upper lip. Perhaps a splitting case, or licking a knife, that would be him. Strange, how this detail had skipped your attention until that moment. Then, below the sunset which very much reflected a cut: the line, bleeding down, with blinding scarlet.

“Ya know, I just want my feed to be pristine”, he said, and shoved his whole fucking palm into that little pack of nuts. Why does he always have to go to such grotesque extremes.

You realized you’d been thrown into this moment as if with a jerk; you had no idea what he was talking about. Leaning on the hood of his car, you’ve been musing at the raging dying day in the sky, and suddenly you felt gentle breeze on the top of your head. Your hands were tied in front of you, your two fists kissing each other like kitties.

“What?” you uttered, disinterested.

“Tumblr”.

He was chewing. He looked at you and frowned.

“Nevermind. I meant, like, you know, unfollowing all the people who don’t post anymore, dead souls”.

“That makes sense”.

“You never really listen to me”.

You licked your lips, confused. As he approached you, his hand reached for your shoulder, and his spider fingers clutched so hard you would frown if you weren’t tired.

“Who are you?”

You knew his face. You knew his voice. You knew he was obnoxious and that he’d been dragging you after him, tied up and threatened, across the country. The beautiful paradox. You didn’t know who the fuck he was.

“What?” He looked hurt.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here”, you replied honestly.

He followed your mesmerized gaze that was drowning in the skies burning red. The light was ambient and it gripped your mind like wire cutters. Looking at it, the person grabbing your shoulder, the beautiful evil person, that guy who looked like the demon who lives under your bed, seemed to understand.

“Okay, weirdo, get in the car”.

“Have you kidnapped me from my home? Do my family know I’m alive?” you insisted as he pushed you towards the open door and laid his fingered palm on your head, not to let you bump, or to calm you down, like a parrot.

He gave you a look. The look. Like you were an idiot. His car smelled of nachos and sea.

“I’ve killed your family”, he said quietly.

All you had to do left was blink, as the door closed with a snap. You moved your hands, trying to feel the numb wrists. He started to circle the car to get onto his driver seat, too. As his face contrasted against the purple and bright sky, you felt like a ghost, like all life drained from you, like you’ve had a fever for a thousand years. The way one feels while staring in the depths of an airport vending machine after ten hours delay.

You reached for the handle of the door and jumped out of the car. Off the road, the ground was hard and dry, and endless. You started to run, not to run away, but to make him chase you. You flew like a comet tail, breathing in the fresh, sea-like air of the approaching evening. It was revitalizing. You didn’t know his name, but somehow you knew that person was the whole universe you had been left in. Like the eternal loop across the football field. As your legs moved, finally running after a long rest, and he followed you like a cheetah, you heard yourself laugh.

As you tripped on a dry lump of grass, you made a 180 in the air, and opened your eyes. Tied down to your bed, with the heavy belts of opaque night, and the emptiness. His name was Kai Parker. He wasn’t there anymore.

dreams masterlist

this is a painful installment of some vague idea I had because of one dream I had of Kai. the reader keeps seeing dreams about the guy they barely remember. the only thing you know is that you miss him, and it hurts surprisingly bad.

kai parker x reader (often unrequitted, unfulfilled or toxic)

music: ambient + moby

warnings: all kinds of violence, dizzy heartbreak and feeling lost

plane

gas station

kitchen

dreams: plane

vague oneshot leading nowhere based on a dream I’ve had of Kai

word count: 1322

warnings: terrorism

music: sleep alone by moby

You take your place grudgingly, seeing that yours is in the middle. To be completely sure of your misfortune, you check your borading pass again. That’s it, 7E. You get a sense of deja vu but brush it off.  

You take a look on the left, and on the right. There’s some children chatting and mumbling, as usual. A sleeping man across the aisle. One of the flight attendants is smiling and, throwing her head back, shoots a quick look at you. The airport is in the small window, and the people are a little tired: there’s been a slight delay. You cock your head on the sight, considering if you should listen to your music while you take off, or not. As a rule, pressure is not too bad on your ears. A rogue ray of sun slithers across your face, and then you get distracted by the lucky person sitting next to you, and by the window. He’s walking awkwardly to his seat, apologizing to you for touching your knees. He’s got a black backpack that he pushes under the seat in front of him, and then collapses next to you. He’s young; his face expresses a mix of unhappiness and worry, but then the little frown in between his eyebrows goes away when he catches you peeping out of the window. You love sitting next to it. Your gaze has to travel by his face and touch slightly his upturned nose as it breaks free to the runway that’s going to be in front of you soon.

His hair is very dark, and you even question, for a second, whether it’s his natural color, or if he dyes it. Looks natural: another ray of the sun, released by the flying clouds, goes through it, and you get a glimpse of dark chocolate on the top of his head. The guy sighs busily, putting his hands in the insides of his jacket. It has no less than ten pockets: inside and outside, and now, it seems, he’s determined to get everything out. You press the back of your head into the back of the seat, ask yourself, whether he’s going to be like that all the way to Atlanta, and whether he’s amusing or annoying. The frown between his brows is back, but now it’s the preoccupied look of a person who’s barely out of his teenagehood: he all but purses his lips looking for something in the depths of his clothes. You’re forced to see his lean hands with white palms reflecting spiders just a tiny bit. The skin looks almost porcelain, and he pokes the side of his cheek with his tongue, looking through you, and it seems to you that he knows he’s somewhat appealing. 

He grins at you shortly instead of apologizing when he pokes you accidentally with his elbow, as if you’re sharing is concern for whatever he’s searching. Finally, he pulls out a white knot of wires and gives out another sigh, now, with relief. You turn your head away and pretend you’re looking down the aisle, to hide a smile.

He’s generally quiet, but his presence is prominent as if he’s the most interesting person on the plane. You can’t stop feeling this guy next to you even when you don’t look.

The plane starts gaining speed, and you look over his shoulder outside, at the running dry field, all yellowish-grey at this time of year. Where you’re going, it’s sunny and green, and you can’t wait.

Then you notice his glassy brown eyes staring in front of him, and the white fist clutching the armrest. His jaws are triangular, and the cheekbones are sharp as he clutches his teeth, too. There’s something in the way he looks, afraid of where this plane will take him, that makes you stare at him. Your hand slides up and touches his fist. His head snaps to you as his palm opens. You interlock your fingers, your knuckles against his, and his shoulders relax. 

You feel wholesome out of your own little act of kindness. You don’t say a word for a good thirty minutes while the plane is going up; his hand in yours, and he doesn’t squeeze too much. His palm is not sweaty, not dry. In fact, his fingers enwrap yours like it’s him who reached out for help. You don’t even notice, and maybe he doesn’t, either, that his thumb starts to caress your hand lightly. 

“I know planes don’t fall on their own”, he finally says, and only then you realize you completely forgot about the music. You’ve been listening the monotonous noise of the plane take off on the background while all your mind, for some reason, was in his hand. You blink and turn. He hasn’t got his earphones on, either. He smiles a little. The guy now looks like he’s completely fine, but he refuses to let go of your hand. You fall in love with him instantly. Maybe the mother instinct kicks in, but it feels like it’s something deeper. You get that hurtful feeling of being stung in the depths of your ribs, and your breath is gone for a mere moment. You can’t tell if he sees that now you’re his completely. He smiles at you like an innocent angel, and his palm is perfect.

“Thanks for that”.

You nod. Smile fights its way through your lips. There’s fluffy clouds behind him, and the sun. The only thing you see is his head in this ridiculous golden halo, and his dark eyes. He lifts both your hands and lowers them back on the armrest gently. He looks at your fingers like he studies them.

“You wanna sit by the window”, he says. Not a question. The belt sign is still on, but you unbuckle, and get up, bumping shoulders and heads, giggle, and you hold on to the seat in front of you as the guy tries to slither in your place. He doesn’t miss a chance to put his hands onto your waist to hold you up, and it feels okay. You fall down to the window and nearly press your face to the glass as he begins undoing the mad knot that is his earphones.

You look at him. He doesn’t look scared or nervous in the slightest. Is it possible he pretended to be afraid? That’s silly, you say to yourself. He couldn’t have known you’d take his hand, and to assume he would do that at all, to pick you up… but that would’ve been smooth. 

He looks at you shortly, and then takes your hand again, leaving it on your knee. His skin is warm. You wonder if his shoulder is comfortable enough, the way he smells, is it sweet, or just fresh? He looks like he smells of sugar powder. You smirk to your thoughts and get comfortbale in his seat, and your foot touches his backpack on the floor. It looks very heavy.

“What’s in it?” you ask, and he gazes down with his mouth open.

“Oh, a bomb”.

You chuckle, and he chuckles back, but suddenly he looks at you in a way that makes your head completely empty. His eyes, you finally notice, they don’t smile. They’re still kinda glassy, their expression has been the same since the moment he got on the plane. 

“The bomb”, you repeat quietly, to see his reaction. His lips are smiling, and his face is ice cold. His thumb is caressing your hand absently. 

“Yeah. I’m going to crash this plane”.

There’s so much deviltry radiating from him, his face lit by the sun, your hand in the cage of his, that you wake up.

You lie in your bed, remembering where you are, and what room it is, and who Kai Parker is. As the reality sets in, you remember him, and your remember, gradually, that he is dead.

Y/n: Now Kai, I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye on things, but—

Kai: That’s because you’re short

Y/n:

Kai, sweating: I take it back

Kai:Your eyes are gorgeous.

Y/n:Was it really necessary to wake me up at 4 am just to tell me that?

Kai:Yes.

Kai, throwing their head into Y/n’s lap: Tell me I’m pretty!

Y/n, lovingly stroking their hair: You’re pretty fucking annoying, that’s what you are.

Stefan: Where’s Y/n?

Katherine: Doing stuff.

Stefan: Don’t like the sound of that, where’s Elena?

Katherine: Stopping Y/n from doing stuff.

Stefan: Kai?

Katherine: Stopping Elena, so Y/n can do the stuff.

Stefan: And you?

Katherine: Distracting you, so Y/n can do the stuff.

Kai: So, who’s in charge here?

Elena: Either Y/n or Damon, whichever shouts the loudest.

Elena: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Y/n:It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Elena: The three of them saw it, Y/n. How do you explain that?

Y/n: *points at Damon* Sleep deprivation. *points at Katherine* Paranoia.*points at Kai* Delusional personality disorder.

Kai: Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say and Damon says I should just talk to you.

Y/n: Talk to me about what?

Kai: About this. *kisses Y/n*

Y/n: … Keep talking.

Kai: my hands are cold…

Y/n: let me warm them up for you *holds hand*

Kai:…

Kai: you know what…suddenly my lips are extremely cold!