#kit walker fluff

[redroses07]

said what i said

[hauntedrose555]

[ahqkas]

♯ GOD KNOWS I TRIED ; kit walker

PAIRING! kit walker x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! kit is a true gentleman at heart, and he does what kind men do : he protects the ones he cares about ( based on this req.!! )

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS / TAGS! angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, mature / suggestive themes, briarcliff asylum warnings, sister jude and her punishments + lmk of more if found

NOTES! my man my man my man . all the credits to the devider bellow belong to @/v6que !!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE RAIN FELL IN RELENTLESS CASCADE, DRUMMING AGAINST THE GLASS WINDOWS OF BRIARCLIFF ASYLUM. The night was clothed in darkness and the only source of provided light was the occasional flash of lightning that illuminated the gothic architecture of the asylum. The heavy rain had changed the surrounding landscape into a dark blur. The expansive green lawn, overgrown and wild, seemed like it came out of a horror story with its ghostly flashes, revealing the twisted forms of ancient trees and the labyrinthine tangle of bushes. The wrought iron gates, their ornate designs now almost swallowed by the storm, groaned softly as they were tossed around by the wind. 

Inside, the atmosphere was equally grim. The asylum's corridors, long and narrow, were bathed in a dim, flickering light from the aging fluorescent fixtures that barely pierced the gloom. Each flash of lightning revealed glimpses of the asylum's interior: the scattered, old furniture, the barred windows, and the heavy, locked doors. The harsh light highlighted the grim details of the inside — rusting fixtures, peeling paint, and the long shadows cast by the iron bars on the windows. 

The nuns had decided to host one of the famous movie nights. It was a tradition they upheld during every stormy night in an attempt to calm down the residents who would become agitated by the loudness that came with the storm. 

The main common room had been transformed for the occasion. The dim, oppressive lighting was softened by the warm, flickering glow of a makeshift projector setup, casting a gentle, almost nostalgic light across the room. The walls, lined with faded, institutional artwork and peeling paint, were obscured by heavy, tattered curtains that had been drawn over the windows to shield the patients' wandering eyes from the storm's fury outside. The dusty curtains hung in uneven folds. The nuns had also arranged a selection of worn, overstuffed chairs and mismatched couches in a semi-circle around the small projector that sat on a makeshift table. The screen was a large, slightly yellowed sheet stretched taut across a wooden frame and its surface bore the scars of countless previous showings. 

You sat on one of the overstuffed couches positioned in the back row of the common room, your figure partially hidden by the shadows cast by the dim light of the projector. The couch you occupied was a faded, floral-patterned relic, its cushions soft and sagging from years of use. The upholstery, once vibrant, had long since dulled to a muted palette, its once-bright colors now blended into the overall gloom of the room. Everything was dull here in Briarcliff. Your posture was relaxed because of the warmth the man beside you provided. 

Kit Walker, a kind man once you got to know him, was the sanest person in the whole building besides yourself and you were glad to form an alliance with him. Although, there were feelings nestled deep inside you, ones you didn't have to say out loud for him to see and feel. That man had a strong jawline and high cheekbones that gave him a chiseled, almost heroic appearance and that alone gave your knees the right amount of shake to fall for him. You found out he had a natural ability to really listen and offer comfort and he carried himself with a quiet dignity, not seeking validation or praise but simply remaining true to himself despite the circumstances. 

Kit Walker was the man of your dreams.

The screen was currently displaying an old, black-and-white film, its grainy images flickering in sync with the erratic flashes of lightning outside but you couldn't force yourself to pay any amount of attention to the supposed entertainment. The film's dramatic scenes, with their exaggerated gestures and artificial emotions, seemed almost absurd compared to the thoughts that were dedicated to the man sitting next to you. 

And the same could be said about Kit. The way the occasional light from the projector cast soft highlights across your features, emphasizing the curve of your cheek and the depth of your eyes, made you seem almost ethereal and Kit was losing it. None of the workers could force him to sit on the moldy couch and torture himself with boredom when you sat quietly beside him, distracting him with just simply being there. 

He noticed your subtle, distracted glances toward the screen, but your eyes lingered more on him than on the film.  Kit could feel the way your eyes followed the play of light and shadow across his face, how you seemed to be drawn to the warmth he provided rather than the outdated drama on the screen. He found himself smiling softly to himself at your distraction with a knowing look in his eyes. You wanted him as badly as he wanted you. 

Leaning slightly closer to your body, Kit's voice was low and warm as it hit the side of your face, barely above a whisper to avoid breaking the fragile atmosphere that had settled around the two of you. "You know," he began and a hint of playful amusement appeared in his tone, "we don't really have to stay here if we're not into the movie." 

"What do you mean?" you asked in the same tone as him, your voice a gentle murmur that barely competed with the distant hum of the projector. When you exhaled, the warm air hit Kit's face. 

Kit's honey-brown irises shimmered in the darkness, and he subtly nodded toward the exit of the dimly lit room, where the storm outside was barely audible against the noise of the film. "I was thinking . . . maybe we could sneak away, find a quieter spot where we can actually do whatever we want. What do you think?"

The suggestion was simple, yet it carried the promise of a more intimate and personal escape from the boredom of the asylum's common room. The thought of stepping away from the dreary atmosphere was an enticing one. Yet, the fear of feeling Sister Jude's sick pleasure held you back. Sister Jude, with her sharp eyes and ever sharper tongue, seemed to delight in catching the patients of the asylum in any moment of weakness or rebellion. Her authority was absolute, an iron hand that loomed over every corner of Briarcliff, and the idea of stepping out of line — even for a brief moment — carried a weighty sense of risk. You could already imagine the way Sister Jude's eyes would narrow in satisfaction, her lips curling into that smug, almost sadistic smile she reserved for moments when she exerted her control. 

You still remember what she did to Grace. What she did to Lana. 

And yet, the allure of escaping with Kit, even just for a little while, was difficult to resist. 

"I don't know, Kit," you whispered in a trembling voice as you voiced your worries to him. "What if we get caught? You know how Sister Jude is. She'd make an example out of us, and I — I don't think I could handle that. I don't want to give her the satisfaction."

He could see the fear in your eyes, the way it held you back, and it only made him more determined to protect you. "[Name]," he said gently, his voice low and reassuring, "nothing's going to happen. I promise you that. We'll be careful, okay? And even if something does happen, even if Sister Jude catches us, I'll take the blame. She won't lay a finger on you."

"Kit..." you began but he cut you off with a slight squeeze of your hand. You didn't question when he took hold of your palm. 

"Trust me, [Name]," he murmured, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles repeatedly. "I won't let her touch you. I'll take the heat if it comes to that. But right now, let's just get out of here, even if it's just for a little while. We deserve that much, don't we?" 

There was a warmth in his voice, a quiet strength meant to reassure you in ways nothing else at Briarcliff ever could. Kit was right — both of you did deserve this. And you could use the sweet release from the asylum's cruel grasp. 

You took a deep breath, nodding slightly as you made up your mind. "Okay," you whispered into the darkness. Kit could feel the touch of your words against his lips. "Okay, let's go." 

His hand was firm and reassuring as he helped you to your feet. Every movement of his was carefully done, as if even the slightest noise could shatter the fragile veil of secrecy he had cast over the both of you. The dim light of the common room flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the floor, but you moved with purpose, slipping quietly through the rows of seats, avoiding the eyes of the staff and the other patients who were too engrossed in the film to notice your departure. Sister Jude should hire more responsible staff. 

Once you reached the doorway, Kit paused, glancing back to ensure no one was watching before gently guiding you with a strong hand against your lower back into the darkened corridor beyond. The heavy wooden door closed behind you with a soft creak, and the two of you were finally alone, the distant sound of the movie a only faint hum behind. You moved quickly through the long, lonely corridors of Briarcliff Asylum, footsteps barely audible on the cold, tiled floors. The rain continued its assault on the windows with no sight of stopping. Kit led the way, his grip on your hand never faltering. 

As the both of you rounded a corner, the sound of distant voices reached your ears — staff members making their rounds. Kit's fingers tightened his hold on yours, pulling you closer as you pressed yourself against the wall, breaths held in unison. The voices grew louder for a moment, then faded as the staff continued down another corridor, oblivious to the two figures hidden in the shadows. Relief washed over you along with the vivid pictures of Sister Jude's punishment. You needed to find a place to hide, somewhere quiet where you could steal a few moments of peace away from the watchful eyes.

Finally, you reached the heavy metal doors of the kitchen, pushed open just enough to allow a sliver of light to escape into the dark corridor. Kit glanced around to ensure you were alone before gently pulling the door open wider, gesturing for you to slip inside first. He followed right after you. 

The kitchen was quiet, dimly lit by a single overhead light that cast a soft glow across the industrial steel countertops and rows of neatly organized utensils. The scent of cleaning supplies mingled with the faint aroma of fresh bread that had long since been cleared away. 

And before either of you could think or second-guess, you were drawn together like magnets. Kit leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with urgency. The kiss deepened quickly though, passion flaring between the two of you like a wildfire as everything else faded away — the asylum, the storm, the fear. All that mattered was this moment, this connection. His hands found their way to the small of your back for the second time this evening, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own. You responded in kind, slender fingers threading through his hair, tugging him closer as if afraid that letting go would mean losing this fleeting moment of intimacy. 

The heat of the kiss spread through you both when Kit's strong hands slid down to the bottom of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. The feel of your body against his was intoxicating, and he moved with purpose, carrying you to the nearest counter. With a fast and urgent motion, he set you down on the cool steel surface, hands brushing aside utensils and making space for you, painting his hands with flour in the process.

Your heart raced as Kit's hands roamed your body, exploring with both desire and respect. His touch was precise as if he was memorizing every curve, every inch of your skin to remember for the rest of his days. He kissed you again, this time slower, savoring the taste of your lips as his hands moved from your waist to your hips, then slowly up to your back, pulling you closer to his body and hiking your knees up even more, leaving white fingertips in their path.

You responded in kind, hands tracing the sculpted lines of his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. There was something so raw, so real about the way he touched you — as if this was the first time in a long time he had felt truly alive. Your fingers danced across his skin, exploring the planes of his body with the same amount of desire. Kit's hands slid up your sides and under the hem of your gown, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin just above your underwear, creating a shiver that traveled down your spine. You arched into his touch, breath hitching as you felt the tension coil tighter within you. 

"Kit . . . I—" you couldn't finish your sentence, the words lost in a breathless moan as his hands wandered lower, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. 

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breath hot and ragged against your lips. The intensity in his gaze was undeniable, a mixture of raw desire and something deeper, something that made your heart pound even harder. That look — told you how much he wanted you, how much he needed this, how much he needed you — made you tighten your legs around his waist. "I've got you," he whispered, his voice rough. It was a look that made your heart race and your body ache for more. 

The door swung open with a suddenness that shattered the intimate bubble you had created, the sound echoing off the cold, sterile walls of the kitchen. Kit froze, his grip on your hips tightening instinctively as you both turned toward the intrusion. The harsh overhead light of the corridor spilled into the room, illuminating the figures standing in the doorway.

A tall, stern-looking man in the uniform of the asylum staff stood there, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon Kit and you. His presence was imposing, his broad shoulders blocking out most of the light from the hallway, but it was the figure behind him that sent a jolt of fear through your chest.

Sister Jude.

She stood in the doorway like a dark omen, her presence dominating the small, dimly lit kitchen. The air around her seemed to chill, as if the very atmosphere cooled from her disapproving gaze. She didn't need to raise her voice to command attention; her mere presence demanded it. The rosary beads hanging from her waist clicked softly as she took a measured step forward, the sound eerie in the tense silence of the room.

The staff member followed the head of this asylum, his eyes flicking between Kit and you, the disdain in his expression unmistakable. "Found them, Sister Jude," he said with a cruel satisfaction. "Just like you suspected."

Kit quickly released you and his hands dropped from your hips to tug at your gown. The least he could do was to save your modesty as much as he could. The man stepped back, positioning himself slightly in front of you as if to shield you from the inevitable wrath of Sister Jude. Your heart pounded in your chest, the warmth of the moment disappearing into the cold reality of the situation just like Kit's hands. 

Sister Jude's icy gaze shifted from the staff member to Kit, and then to you, her brown irises narrowing further. "Well, well," she began loudly, her voice echoing in the silent room, cutting through the tension easily. "I always knew you had a penchant for trouble, Mr. Walker, but this . . . This is a new low, even for you." She took a step closer to you, her heels clicking ominously against the tiled floor. "And you, Miss [Last name] . . . I expected better." 

The weight of her words pressed down like a leaden shroud, suffocating any remaining trace of the warmth and connection that had filled the room just moments before. It was as if the very walls of Briarcliff had closed in around you both, trapping you in.

Kit stood his ground, though every instinct screamed at him to protect you from the storm that was about to break. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his neck tensing as he fought to maintain his composure. His hands, which had just moments ago been tenderly caressing your skin, now curled into fists at his sides. But beneath that facade, there was also a flicker of fear — not for himself, but for what you might endure at the hands of Sister Jude if his plans failed. He squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height, and locked eyes with the cold woman before him. "It was my idea," Kit declared, his voice firm and unwavering despite the tension that crackled in the air like a live wire. "Leave her out of this." His words were a shield, a desperate attempt to keep his promise, to protect you from the consequences that he feared would be far worse for you than for him.

Sister Jude's eyes flickered with something that you couldn't quite place — an emotion that lingered somewhere between suspicion and a twisted, almost predatory satisfaction. Her thin lips curled into a faint, humorless smile, and the cold glint in her eyes seemed to sharpen, as if she were savoring the moment. She took another slow step forward and her gaze shifted from Kit to you, who stood just behind him, face paler than usual.

"Oh, I have no doubt it was, Mr. Walker," each word was enunciated with deliberate precision, as though she were savoring the power she held over the two of you. "But both of you will be held accountable for this . . . indiscretion."

"I'm the one who's responsible," Kit's voice cut through the oppressive silence with a determined edge. "It was my idea, and I should be the one held accountable. Leave [Name] out of this."

Sister Jude's expression flickered with a moment of surprise, but it quickly settled back into its usual look. Her eyes narrowed as she took in Kit's words, her mind no doubt calculating how best to respond to his unexpected act of bravery. "Very well," she said, her tone clipped and devoid of sympathy. "If you insist on taking the blame, then you will be the one to bear the consequences." The woman turned her attention to the staff member who had followed her into the kitchen. "Go to my office. Fetch the cane. The one I reserve for my favorite patients."

The staff member's brow furrowed slightly, but he didn't hesitate. He gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, disappearing through the door with a purposeful stride. The sound of his footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor as he made his way to retrieve the instrument of punishment.

Sister Jude's gaze returned to Kit and Dahlia, her expression unrelenting. "You've chosen to make this difficult for yourself, Mr. Walker," she said, her voice dripping with a cold satisfaction. "And while I commend your misguided sense of honor, it changes nothing about the punishment that awaits you. And you, miss [Last name], shall watch what happens once stupidity takes over the mind."

Your heart ached at the sight of Kit standing his ground, his body tense with the weight of his decision. You wanted to protest, to beg Sister Jude to reconsider, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sheer weight of the situation. Instead, you reached out, your hand trembling as you grasped Kit's arm, trying to offer some measure of comfort and support.

Kit looked down at you, his eyes softening just for a moment before he turned his attention back to Sister Jude. "Whatever you're planning, I can take it."

"Your bravery is noted. But bravery will not protect you from the consequences of your actions."

The staff member returned, carrying the cane with a deliberate and solemn expression. The cane was an old-fashioned implement, its polished wood gleaming menacingly under the kitchen's harsh lights. It was a feared symbol of discipline, one that had seen many hands and many uses over the years, and its presence in the room only heightened the sense of dread.

Sister Jude took the cane from the staff member, her fingers tracing its surface with a possessive, almost reverent touch. "This is the cane I reserve for my most . . . memorable patients," she said, her voice low and chilling. "It is reserved for those who require a lesson in obedience. You will stay and watch. This is part of your lesson as well — understanding the consequences of defiance."

Kit's pants were pulled down by the staff member, exposing his bare bottom to the cold air of the kitchen. The sight of his exposed skin, vulnerable and waiting, was a sharp contrast to the determined set of his jaw. He braced himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckles white as he gripped the surface for support.

The cane was held firmly in her hand, and Sister Jude raised it with a practiced ease, preparing to deliver the first stroke. The sharp whoosh of the cane slicing through the air was followed by a resounding crack as it made contact with Kit's bare skin. The sound was a brutal reminder of the severity of the punishment, and Kit's body tensed, a muffled grunt escaping his lips as the sting of the cane seared into his flesh. The printed redness flared bright against the pale tone of his skin. 

Your eyes filled with tears as you watched, heart breaking at the sight of Kit's suffering. The sight of his reddened skin, the way his body flinched with each stroke, was almost too much to bear. Every crack of the cane seemed to echo through your own chest and you felt like throwing up. 

The punishment was relentless, each crack of the cane drawing a sharp gasp or low moan from Kit, his breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts. His eyes remained fixed straight ahead, and he tried to maintain his composure, though the strain of the punishment was evident in the tension of his muscles and the way his body shook with each hit. His only concession to the agony was the occasional clenching of his jaw and the muffled sounds that escaped him.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sister Jude stepped back, her breath even and controlled. The cane was lowered, and she regarded Kit with a look of detached satisfaction, as if the punishment had been a necessary chore rather than an act of cruelty.

Kit's body slumped slightly, his breathing ragged and labored as he tried to regain his composure. His bottom was marked with the angry red welts of the punishment, the skin raw and tender from the relentless strokes of the cane. Your eyes were filled with anguish as you looked at him, the man who had taken the blame upon himself to protect you.

Sister Jude's gaze then turned to you, her expression one of stern disapproval, before she and the staff member exited the kitchen. "You've seen what happens when rules are broken. Let this be a lesson to you." 

Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you rushed to Kit's side. Your movements were frantic, driven by a desperate need to offer him some measure of comfort and relief from the suffering he had endured. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you approached him, hands trembling more than ever as you reached out to touch him. "Kit, I'm so sorry."

Kit turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and something softer, a flicker of gratitude for your concern. He took a deep, shuddering breath and attempted to straighten up, though his body protested with each movement. "Don't," he said softly, his hand reaching out to drape over your shoulders for support. "It's not your fault. I chose this. And I would do it again."

[violet-harmon2011]

like cicadas in the summertime

[xrag-dollx]

Silent secrets

~Kit Walker x fem!reader

Summary: in the empty hallway of the asylum, there's always a small and dark corner which is basically drawing you in to do something forbidden...

Warnings: smut, p i v,

A/N: just a (sort of) drabble:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cold and dark little corner of the asylum you both discovered was soon the perfect little spot for your quickies. And nobody ever caught you, not even sister Jude, and she was known to see and hear everything.

"Shhh...be quiet...they'll hear us..."

Kit whispered while he was pounding into you. Hard and fast. Your legs were tightly clung to his hips.

You were forced to bite into Kit's shoulder to muffle your moans, his head was buried in the crook of your neck, his unsteady breath was continually lingering in your ear, you could hear how much he had to keep himself together not to cause any accidental noise. His dick precisely hit your sweet spot, again and again, your grip on Kit's shoulders got tightened with every moment. You knew you were close and so was Kit.

Suddenly some unpleasant noise of rattling keys and steps interrupted your intense love game. Kit stopped for a moment as he was pulling out of you, leaving you empty as your wet cunt got hit by a light cold breeze, making you clench around nothing. He was holding you tight as he was basically praying not to get caught. He held his breath, his fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. The moment passed painfully like an hour as the steps and rattling keys subsided in the distance. You and Kit exhaled relieved, yet the thought of getting caught was something that really turned you on. Kit entered his hard and throbbing dick into your aching cunt again.

"Hnngh fuck...you take me so well..."

He whispered, his pace quickened, your breath was trembling, you couldn't help but letting out some small whines.

"Shhh!...suga!..don't want us to get caught"

Kit admonished in a whispering tone, as he was pounding even harder into you...almost like a small punishment.

"Argh...k-kit...kit...I'm-"

You signaled silently, but until you could finish your mess of a sentence, your orgasm was rushing over you like a wave. Your high triggered Kit's as he was reaching his orgasm right after you, his warm load was filling you up, gently nestled inside of you. Stealing a few messy kisses, as time was tight and the probability too high to get caught, he quickly helped you getting your panties back on, followed by your knee length skirt, while his gaze nervously switched between you and the dark hallway. He pulled his pants back on, as he grabbed you hand, leading you back to your working place, as you were previously cleaning up tiles of a bathroom.

"There you go, suga...see you later"

Kit whispered as he left, always with a smile.

You chuckled as a shy reply, going back to work as if nothing actually happened.

...that charmer...

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Tags: @fear-is-truth @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @trueangel420 @evanpeterspeter @evanpeterswifeyyy @v4mp-doll

《Pics belong to their owner, xrag-dollx all rights reserved, copying my work is prohibited》

[marchsfreakshow]

Lost In A Maze [Kit Walker]

Angst / lil fluff bcs I can't stop myself.

A few weeks passed since Kit's last visit to the nurse. he was almost desperate to see them again.

Anon consider your request a part 2 to 'Wounds And All' :) I love this idea.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Weeks passed.

Weeks without a visit to his beloved nurse. He learnt to control himself and his stupid temper.

But still, he wanted them. He wanted to say hello, and just see that small smile again.

Kit supposed that constantly hurting himself to see their working hands wasn't a good thing. It couldn't've been a good thing. His heart was always promised to another.

Damn that to heck!

Kit wanted the nurse. To see the small smile that appears when he agrees with their words. To see the way they work so efficiently and quickly. An angel at their craft. But, now he had a good streak. A sweet streak of being a good boy in the asylum. Maybe if he...no! Doing anything to see that nurse would mean losing that streak.

Would he really risk breaking into the nurse's office just to see them in the night?

Yes.

He would.

Kit's plan was stupid. Wildly stupid, and would get him in solitary for months on end. So foolish and silly that the nurse might just hate him for the rest of his time here at Briarcliff. "Kit?" A sleepy voice asked at the sound of a shutting door. They speak! Speak again, bright angel... "Kit it's really late. W-what are you doing here..?"

"I needa to see you, nurse. Real bad." I'm wounded in love and need to taste your lips on mine. No. Too lovesick.

"y-you could have asked one of the guards to bring you in here or have me visit you.."

"no." He shook his head and sat himself on his already weak, frail knees on the floor of the bed. "I-I'm lost without ya nurse. I can't lie to myself anymore."

A tilt of their head. Confusion as an explanation was trying to be racked in their brain. Why would he be lost? Because of the treatment? Because of Dr.Threadson? "You're lost?" Was their response. Quiet, confused, sleepy. They couldn't think properly, it felt like 4 in the morning. All Kit could muster was a nod, his weepy eyes eventually meeting the nurse's eyes. Even through darkness, they could sense his silent cries and his desire for affection.

Their hands pulled Kit's face closer. Their hands wandered his cheeks and pulled him up onto their bed. Despite the coldness of the asylum, the both of them were warm, pressing themselves close as Kit's face pressed into their shoulder. Eventual kisses desperately wander around their shoulder and neck, trailing up to their sweet lips. Slowly reciprocating his physical pleas for touches and kisses. A sudden need, and wandering hands.

Quiet, panting and aching. For what felt like forever. His rough-worked hands attempting to slip past their sleeping gown. Their hands also worked and slightly calloused, slipped down his back, about to tug it up. "Nurse.." Ah.

Sister Mary Eunice. The both of them knew what was about to happen. Kit was promptly pulled into the guards' protection, thrashing like he did when he arrived. Staying there as Sister Eunice pulled the nurse up, and slapped them over and over. Harsh hands were thrown around their face. This punishment wasn't enough. Not enough for the Devil. Being thrown onto their knees in front of the already weeping inmate, and pulled up to look at him by their hair. "Your precious, tasty nurse here, will in fact be fired. And you, Mr.Walker, solitary. 2 months. That sounds fair, doesn't it?"

No. No, it didn't. The both of them couldn't help themselves. Kit's new reputation was now thrown out. And the nurse was on the streets. His precious nurse. His darling nurse was the only one who treated him nicely. Treated him like the human they knew he was. The few words spoken between them were the kind words he needed to survive.

Thrown away because the devil knew.

All were thrown away because the devil couldn't help but give in to some temptation.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @briaroftheroses / @nahoyasboyfriend @oceanblvd111 @slutforgarlogan / @carniv0reev @yandereunsolved @evanpeterspeter

[slut4evanpeters]

Lets Groove Tonight

kit walker x reader

song i recommend listening too: i want your love by chic

warnings: mention of alcohol, suggestive dancing? not really though! reader is mentioned to be a "lady" and female pro nouns are mentioned. lots of build up cuz again.... im a slut for a backstory KIND CORNY.

word count: 4.5k

notes: yes yes i know kits timeline is in the 60s but i mean.... what would it hurt to put him in the 70s🤫 i thought of this while writing a waren lipka club fic and i was like..... KIT + 70S + DISCO = FUCKING HOT! and i apologize for how clunky this is ya girl is TIRED.

Ahh yes, the 1970. The year of the disco scene, the decade of bold colors, high fashion, and music that pulsed through your veins. It was all alive around you, vibrant and daring, and somehow, you were right in the middle of it.

So here you are, seated at the wooden vanity that your husband, Kit Walker, had crafted for you with his own hands. Each detail of it was unmistakably his work, the smooth, polished surface, the sturdy frame, and the slight scent of cedar that lingered as you leaned in closer to the mirror. Warm light glowed softly across the room, catching the soft, coiled strands of your hair as you adjusted them. The pin curls sat tight and meticulous, framing your face with a precision that took effort but looked effortless.

You focus on your reflection as you apply the last touches of your makeup, finishing off the look you’d spent the evening carefully crafting. You sweep a vibrant teal eyeshadow across your lids, letting the pigment stand out against your skin, shimmering in that daring, unapologetic way that only 70s fashion could. You smile at the final effect, a flash of color that catches the light every time you blink. Finally, you glide on a layer of nude lipstick, pressing your lips together to set the look—a perfectly balanced mix of bold and understated.

Taking a deep breath, you reach up and slowly pull each pin from your hair. The curls unfurl one by one, cascading around your shoulders in voluminous waves. You fluff them gently with your fingers, marveling at the soft, touchable texture that’s equal parts glamorous and natural. To complete the look, you slip on a simple white headband, tucking it back behind your ears and pushing the loose waves away from your face. The band sits perfectly in place, giving your style that effortless, carefree touch.

As a finishing touch, you reach for your Aqua Net hairspray and give a few even spritzes, holding the can at a practiced angle to ensure each curl holds without stiffness. The familiar scent fills the air as you watch your reflection take shape, your hair settling into soft, bouncy waves that will last well into the night.

You stand up from the vanity, taking one last look in the mirror to admire the final result. The gleam of teal eyeshadow, the soft waves, and the vintage headband all come together perfectly, embodying that effortless, chic vibe you’ve been craving. You smooth your hands down the front of your makeup-stained robe, then cross the room to the closet you share with Kit. As you open the door, your fingers glide over the colorful array of fabrics inside, each one a piece of the vibrant spirit that fills your life.

Your hand pauses on a bell sleeve mini dress, a shimmering piece of cream coloured fabric with a floral pattern woven into the material. The sleeves are long and flowy and the skirt has just the right amount of swing, giving it that playful, flirty edge that fits the mood of the night. You lift it from the hanger and step carefully into it, sliding the dress up over your hips, letting the fabric settle softly against your skin.

Just as you slip your arms into the airy, loose sleeves, you feel a warm presence behind you, a familiar touch that sends a shiver down your spine before you even turn around. Kit’s hands rest gently on your waist, and he leans close, his breath warm against your neck.

“Hey, suga’,” he murmurs, his voice low, tinged with a hint of mischief. You can hear the smirk in his words, and the sound alone is enough to make you smile. “Need some help with that?”

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze with a grin. “Yes, actually, Kit. Could you please zip me up?”

Kit’s hand slides up to find the zipper, his fingers grazing the small of your back. He takes his time, zipping the dress slowly, letting the fabric hug your form as he draws it up inch by inch. Just when you think he’s done, Kit presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and then another, his lips warm and soft against your skin. His touch is slow, lingering, as if savoring the moment with each kiss he leaves along the curve of your spine.

His hands rest on your shoulders as he finishes, giving them a gentle squeeze before he steps back, admiring his handiwork. “There you go, darlin’. Lookin’ like a dream.” His voice is low, thick with warmth, and his gaze travels over you with a blend of pride and adoration.

“Thank you, you’re an angel, Mr. Walka’,” you say with a playful lilt, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin is warm under your lips, and a slight grin spreads across his face as he watches you glide past him. You feel his gaze on you, that familiar, gentle heat, as you make your way out of the room.

At the front door, you reach down to grab your knee high white platform boots, admiring their pristine shine. The boots are perfect, capturing a daring vibe that’s made for a night like this. You slip each one on carefully, adjusting the fit and feeling the slight lift they give you. The smooth leather feels snug against your legs, accentuating the line of your calves, while the glossy finish gleams under the soft lighting. Once they’re on, you stand up, feeling a whole new level of confidence as you balance on the chunky heels.

Kit reaches for the door, his fingers wrapped around the handle, and with a smooth, gentlemanly gesture, he opens it wide for you. “Ladies first,” he says, voice warm and teasing as he dips his head slightly, holding the door as if he’s unveiling something grand.

You grin and step outside, feeling the cool evening air wrap around you, your dress swishing around your mid thighs as you walk. He follows you out, and the two of you stroll together, his hand finding the small of your back, guiding you toward his red truck parked under a tree. The truck has a certain charm, its deep crimson paint shining under the glow. When you reach it, he’s already ahead of you, opening the passenger door with a little flourish.

With a laugh, you hop up onto the seat, the soft interior fabric a comforting contrast to the cool night air. Kit closes the door gently behind you, his face lighting up as he circles around to the driver’s side. He climbs in, settles into his seat, and starts the engine, the gentle rumble filling the quiet of the street.

As he pulls away, the radio crackles to life, and “Heart of Glass” by Blondie fills the vehicle, the familiar bass line vibrating through the seats. You can’t help but start to sing, belting out every lyric with a confidence that only the two of you in the truck could hear. You sway in your seat to the beat, letting the music take over, glancing over at him as he watches you with a smile that reaches his eyes.

You look to the side, propping yourself up over the middle console just enough to reach him, and press a sweet kiss to his cheek, feeling the slight stubble under your lips. His hand reaches over instinctively, finding yours and giving it a quick squeeze, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

Finally, the neon lights of the disco club come into view, casting a rainbow of colors over the street. The parking lot is buzzing, the bass from inside thumping faintly even from here, and you can already feel the excitement pulsing through you. Kit pulls into a spot, shifts the truck into park, and turns to you, a twinkle in his eye, like he’s just as ready for this night as you are.

You step out of the truck, feeling the buzz of excitement as the neon lights from the club reflect off the polished white leather of your boots. Kit slides an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walk toward the entrance. The bass from the club’s sound system pulses through the doors, thudding in time with your heartbeat. Kit flashes a grin at you, his own excitement mirroring yours.

As soon as you step inside, the club’s energy hits you in waves. Multicolored lights swirl overhead, flashing across the dance floor packed with bodies moving in perfect rhythm, their sequins, bell-bottoms, and feathered hair catching the strobe lights. The air is heavy with the scent of hairspray, perfume, and a hint of leather and smoke, mingling with the beat of the club

Kit gives your waist a little squeeze, leaning in close to shout over the music, “Gonna start the night off with somethin’ strong? White Russian for the lady, right?”

You nod with a grin. “You know it, babe. Let’s do this right.”

The two of you make your way to the bar, Kit’s hand never leaving your hip. You feel his warmth even in the cool air of the club, grounding you amid the frenzy. He leans across the counter and orders with his signature Boston charm, flashing a confident smile. “White Russian for her, whiskey for me, pal.”

Moments later, the bartender hands over your drinks, and you take a long, slow sip of your cocktail. The mix of cream, vodka, and coffee liqueur slides over your tongue, rich and smooth. Kit watches you, his eyes alight with amusement as he takes a swig of his whiskey.

“Tastes good, huh?” he teases, leaning in close.

“Mmm, perfect,” you say, licking a trace of cream from your lip, giving him a playful look. “Now let’s see if you got the moves to keep up with me, Mr. Walker.”

He laughs, a low sound that mixes with the beat of the music, and takes your hand, leading you toward the dance floor. The opening beats of I Want Your Love by Chic filter through the speakers, and the room seems to come alive in time with the rhythm. People on the floor cheer, spinning in wide circles, hands raised as the song’s bass line rolls out in waves.

Kit moves behind you, his hands slipping onto your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel his warm breath at your ear as he murmurs, “Show me whatcha got, darlin’.”

With a grin, you start to sway to the beat, slipping effortlessly into the classic disco moves. You stretch one arm out, fingers pointed, before pulling it back in, letting your hips sway side to side in sync with the music. Kit’s hands stay firmly on your waist, guiding you, his thumbs grazing over your hips as he sways along with you. The two of you move as one, sinking into the rhythm of the song as it fills the room. You throw your arms up in the air, fingers snapping to the beat, feeling the pulse of the music flow through you.

Kit chuckles, leaning in close to your ear, his voice thick, “Ya look like a million bucks out here, baby. Like ya were born for this.”

You laugh, pressing back against him, feeling his solid presence behind you. “Maybe I was, Kit,” you say, flashing him a playful look over your shoulder. “Ya got the moves to keep up?”

“Oh, I got moves,” he replies, his grin turning a bit cocky. His hands tighten on your waist, and he pulls you even closer, his hips swaying in perfect rhythm with yours.

The chorus kicks in, and you spin around to face him, throwing your arms over his shoulders as you sway together. Kit grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners, the lights above flashing in his dark eyes. He’s got that look of pure joy, the kind you only see when he’s completely in the moment.

“Damn, baby, you’re somethin’ else,” he says, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

You toss your hair back, giving him a wink.

"Right back atcha, handsome." His eyes glint with something deeper as he gazes down at you, that grin slipping into something softer, more intense, that pulls you in closer.

The music pulses around you both, like it's part of you now, a beat that syncs with your heart. Kit's hands slide up your sides, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your dress. You shiver under his touch, feeling every gentle pressure as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer until there's hardly any space left between you.

You look up into his eyes, the colored lights flashing above casting shadows that make his gaze even more mesmerizing. His face is just inches from yours, and you feel his breath, warm and slow, against your cheek. He leans in, and you can see the slight smile on his lips as his hand moves to the small of your back, guiding you in a slow, sultry sway to the rhythm of the music. You press yourself against him, letting him lead you, feeling his solid warmth, the gentle press of his body against yours.

Your hands find their way up to his chest, fingers lightly tracing the edges of his collar as you take in the texture of his shirt, the steady beat of his heart beneath it. His hands tighten on your waist, holding you like he doesn't want to let go, and his head dips down toward you, his lips brushing softly against your cheek. It's barely a kiss, more of a tease, his lips grazing your skin as his hands slide down your back.

You feel your heart race, each beat quickening in time with the music. The world around you blurs, the swirling lights, the heat of the crowded room. All of it fades away until there's nothing but you and Kit, caught in this intoxicating dance. His mouth moves to your ear, his voice a low murmur that sends a thrill down your spine.

"Ya know, I could dance with you like this all night," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Makin' everyone here jealous as hell."

You smile, tilting your head to meet his eyes, your hand slipping up to cup his cheek. "Good. Let 'em be jealous." Your voice is soft but daring, and his smile widens at your words.

Without another word, he leans in, his lips finally pressing against yours. The kiss is slow, unhurried, like he's savoring every second. His hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling gently in your hair as he pulls you even closer, deepening the kiss. The music fills the spaces between you, heightening every sensation, every touch. You feel the strength in his arms, the steady way he holds you, grounding you and setting you alight all at once.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the kiss, in the warmth of his body against yours. The crowd around you seems to fade entirely, the music a distant pulse as he presses his forehead against yours, catching his breath, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek.

"You're somethin' else, ya know that?" he murmurs, his voice thick with feeling, his gaze locked onto yours, as if he's seeing something in you that no one else ever has.

You bite your lip, barely able to keep the smile from spreading across your face.

"Guess you bring it out of me."

With a grin, he spins you around, his hands on your hips as he pulls you back against him, moving with you in time to the beat.

You laugh, the sound light and free, and he leans down, his lips brushing your shoulder, sending a shiver through you. You sway together, moving as one, his hands guiding you in slow circles, as though he's afraid to break the spell.

As the song's beat pulses on, you let yourself sink into him, feeling his breath, his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. You close your eyes, allowing the moment to consume you completely, each note of the song carrying you both deeper into a connection that feels as electric as the music filling the room.

The night at the club felt like magic, like stepping into a different world. But now, as you and Kit step out into the cool night air, there’s a different kind of warmth between you. A quiet, lingering happiness that’s somehow just as bright as the flashing lights and thumping beats of the club.

Kit’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close as you make your way back to his truck. The music from the club fades as the door swings shut behind you, leaving just the sound of your laughter and the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. Kit’s fingers give your side a little squeeze, and he glances over, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights.

“Didn’t know ya had moves like that, darlin’,” he teases, that playful Boston drawl coming through thick and warm.

You laugh, leaning into him as you walk. “Thought I’d surprise ya. And you, Mr. Walker, I had no idea you were such a smooth dancer.”

“Yeah? Well, I do my best,” he says with a grin, reaching out to open the passenger door for you. “Hop on in, Mrs. Walker.”

You slide into the seat, a smile lingering on your lips as he shuts the door gently behind you. A second later, he’s in the driver’s seat, settling in and giving you a quick, happy look before starting the engine. The gentle rumble fills the truck, and Kit reaches over, finding your hand with his and giving it a soft squeeze.

The drive home is quiet, the streets empty, and the only light is from the streetlamps casting a soft glow over everything. Kit keeps one hand on the wheel, the other intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small circles over your knuckles. The radio hums softly, playing a familiar, gentle tune. A perfect backdrop to the night.

Kit glances over, catching your eye, his smile tender. “Ya had a good time, sweetheart?”

You nod, squeezing his hand in return. “Perfect night. You, me, a little disco… Couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a soft chuckle, looking back to the road. “Well, I’ll have to take ya dancin’ more often. You light up that floor, ya know?”

You lean your head against the seat, watching him with a soft smile. “Only ‘cause you’re there with me.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his eyes warm and deep, like he’s memorizing every detail of you in this moment. “Darlin’, you got no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough around the edges, softened by affection. “Every time I look at ya, I just feel… lucky.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, and you feel yourself blush a little under his gaze. “Kit, I’m the lucky one,” you say softly, your fingers lacing even tighter through his.

“Yeah, well,” he replies, his grin turning a little sheepish, “maybe we’re both lucky, then.”

As you pull closer to home, Kit rolls down the window a bit, letting the night air sweep in. It’s fresh and cool, a welcome contrast to the warmth inside the truck, and the scent of pine and earth fills the air. You close your eyes for a second, breathing it in, feeling completely at peace.

Kit looks over, his face softened in the gentle moonlight, and reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Y’know,” he murmurs, “nights like this… they’re what I live for.”

You smile, your eyes meeting his. “Same here, babe. Just us. Nothing else.”

The truck rolls to a gentle stop in front of your shared house, and he cuts the engine. For a moment, neither of you move, just sitting there, soaking up the quiet, intimate warmth of the moment. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Kit’s hand lingers on yours as he gently releases the seatbelt, his eyes catching yours in the soft, dim light. The world feels quiet, like it’s just the two of you wrapped in a bubble of peace and warmth. He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and soft against your skin.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice softened, barely above a whisper. “Let’s get ya inside.”

He slides out of the truck, circling around to your side in a few strides. Even after all this time, he always insists on opening the door for you, and tonight is no different. He pulls it open with a gentle smile, extending his hand to help you down from the seat. As your boots touch the ground, you can’t help but smile up at him, your fingers still laced in his.

The night air feels even cooler as it brushes over your skin, but Kit’s hand is warm. The two of you walk up the path to the house slowly, savoring each step, your fingers still intertwined. He holds you close as you make your way up the steps, the wooden porch creaking slightly underfoot, a familiar sound that makes home feel even cozier.

Kit pauses at the door, giving you a long, lingering look, his dark eyes shining with that deep affection you’ve seen in countless moments like this. He raises your joined hands to his lips, pressing another kiss to your knuckles. “Ya look real pretty tonight, ya know that?”

You smile, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thank you, Kit. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He chuckles, a quiet, content sound, and finally reaches for the door, opening it with a slow creak.

As you and Kit step through the front door, a calm stillness settles over the house. The warmth of your night together lingers between you, a gentle reminder of the fun and closeness you shared. Kit’s hand is steady at your waist as he guides you inside, his fingers tracing slow, comforting circles.

Once you’re in the soft glow of the living room, he turns to you with a gentle smile. “Alright, darlin’,” he murmurs, his voice soft with tenderness. “Let’s get ya comfy.”

Without another word, he kneels down in front of you, one hand sliding along the back of your calf as he reaches for the zipper of your boot. His fingers work slowly, careful not to rush, as though he’s savoring every little moment. When the first boot slides off, he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the arch of your foot, then moves up to your ankle, leaving a trail of warm, soft kisses that send a shiver up your spine.

He looks up at you, a soft grin lighting up his face as he takes off the second boot. “Been lookin’ at these all night,” he teases, his voice low and playful. “Ya wear the hell outta these boots, but I’ll tell ya, they look even better comin’ off.”

You laugh softly, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks. Kit stands, sliding his hands up to your waist, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your dress before he takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. You follow him, feeling a gentle anticipation as he brings you into the bathroom.

Once there, he turns to you, his gaze warm and focused. He reaches for a soft cloth, dampening it under warm water, and then brings it up to your face with a gentle touch. He starts wiping away your makeup, careful and precise, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek as he clears away the remnants of eyeshadow and lipstick. The warm cloth feels soothing against your skin, and his tender gaze never leaves your face.

As he works, he murmurs softly, his voice thick with affection. “Ya know, you’re somethin’ else. Didn’t need any of this to begin with,” he says, gesturing to the makeup he’s gently wiping away. “Just as beautiful as ya are. Hell, I’d say even more so.”

You smile, eyes soft as you watch him. “Flatterer,” you tease, but his words make you feel warm, like you’re wrapped in a soft glow that only he can give you.

Once he’s finished, he sets the cloth aside, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before gently guiding you out of the bathroom. His hands are steady on your shoulders as he leads you to the bedroom, his touch grounding, calming. He steps behind you, unzipping your dress with the same care he showed with the boots, sliding the fabric down over your shoulders and letting it pool softly around your feet.

He finds your favorite pair of pyjamas. A soft, worn set that’s seen countless cozy nights and slips the top over your head, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Then he gently pulls the matching pants up your legs, his hands warm and careful as he helps you step into them, before smoothing the waistband comfortably against your hips.

“There we go,” he murmurs, his voice filled with quiet pride as he guides you toward the bed, pulling back the covers and tucking you in with a softness that melts your heart. He presses a quick, tender kiss to your forehead, his eyes lingering on you with an adoring smile.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispers, “just get settled. I’ll be right back.” He straightens, giving you one last look before heading back to the bathroom to finish getting ready himself.

You watch him go, feeling the warmth of his care still wrapped around you. A few moments later, he returns, his face fresh and hair slightly damp, and he slips into bed beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight as he pulls the covers up around you both. He wraps an arm around you, and you feel his warmth spread across your back as he settles in close.

You turn to face him, resting your head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. His arm slips under your head, his fingers finding their way into your hair, gently twirling and stroking through the strands. His other hand rests against your back, drawing slow, soothing circles that send you into a deep, quiet peace.

“Ya know somethin’?” he murmurs, his voice a low, comforting rumble in your ear. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world, and I mean that. Every damn day, I get to look at you, love you, be with you.”

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. “I love you too, Kit,” you whisper, feeling a deep, contented warmth settle in your chest.

He holds you close, his hand brushing gently through your hair as his voice grows softer, his words gentle. “That’s my girl… Just close those eyes, honey. I gotcha.” His hand continues its gentle, soothing motion, and the sound of his steady heartbeat lulls you into the sweetest, most peaceful sleep.

[americanwh0rerstory]

her patient, his savior [kit walker]

SUMMARY: when kit gets thrown into briarcliff for a second time, yet again for a crime he didn’t commit, he meets a nurse: Y/N

CONTENT WARNING: violence, briarcliff, mental asylums, angst, platonic relationship but could be romantic depending on your perspective

A/N: the dates might be wrong, but i couldn’t find any explicitly stated dates so i had to use what i could. this does not match up with the ending of the show but it’s an idea that came to me

NO NSFW. PLS ENJOY

being a nurse at briarcliff wasn’t an easy job. you’d deal with the aftermath of the brutal punishments that the sisters would give to the patients. the welts, the burns, you saw the lot of it.

nobody there was anyone you wanted to associate with, it was clear that 9/10 people seemingly deserved to be there. granted you didn’t know most of them, but you read their files and found their backstories. however one person stuck out to you: kit walker.

a charming man who managed to be discharged from briarcliff. he was framed for the bloodyface murders and thrown into the asylum without a second thought. judging by his files he endured a lot. the electrotherapy, the beatings, the hydrotherapy, it was atrocious. he was discharged in 1965 though, so why was this relevant? why were you reading his files in 1971?

kit was back. back for murder. He knew that Alma murdered Grace, but he couldn’t let Alma take the fall for it; he gave himself up to save her, a chivalrous act for his wife.

This same Mr walker had just entered your infirmary looking beaten up. his eye was blackened, bottom lip bloodied, and god knows what else. But kit was your nicest patient, he wasn’t creepy and was polite. he was like a saint in a house of devils.

“sista’, mind fixin’ me up?” he asks in his boston drawl, standing in the doorway waiting for you to give him permission to be seen. he knew he didn’t need to ask, but he still wanted to be polite and keep that sense of humanity in him. his hair was messy, sticking to his forehead a little with the sweat presumably from the fight he got himself into. kit was such a sweet soul, you never believed anyone when they said he was violent.

“of course kit” you beam softly, not wanting to seem overly eager but also not wanting to seem monotonous like everyone else here. it was either monotony or anger, no in between. to kit you were his ray of sunshine in this place, he appreciated having a nice nurse this time round rather than Dr Arden.

“thanks-” he began to say, cutting himself off with a hiss of pain when the antiseptic made contact with some of his grazes and cuts.

“sorry, ‘s just hurtin’ a little” he mumbled, apologising for his reaction to the cool antiseptic wipe you began to run along his battered body.

the two of you made idle chit chat whilst you fixed him up, your eyes meeting his occasionally. he made you laugh with some sort of witty comment/remark he made, and you giggled like a school girl with a crush.

nothing could happen though, he still had alma on the outside. nothing would ever happen… right?

A/N: i’m gonna be real and say i got a bit lazy towards the end and also couldn’t be bothered to make a banner. i’ve got a lot to work on so fics might be slightly lower quality than usual, but i’ll try my best <3

[whosbloom]

Kit Walker » Decorating

day 10 of flufftober

⋆.˚ summary: kit comes home to find you decorating with the kids <3

⋆.˚ fluff , dad!kit , no asylum trauma because kit doesn’t deserve that , son’s name is Liam and the daughter is Charlotte :3

“Why in the world is our son covered in fake webs?” Kits voice rang throughout the house, your son, Liam, following in behind him while giggling loudly.

“Well, Kit, me and the kids were decorating for Halloween. Liam said he could handle putting them up on his own.” You smiled and walked over to the little boy, pulling the fake webs off of him and kissed his forehead.

Your husband nodded, walking over to you and pressed a quick kiss on your cheek, before walking further into the house to find your daughter drawing in a few small pumpkins. “

“You guys went to the farmers market without me? I wanted to pick pumpkins with you guys.” He playfully pouted, kneeling down in-front of her and ran a hand over her hair, kissing her temple.

“Mommy wanted to surprise you.” Charlotte said with a smile, showing off the pumpkin she had been coloring, before pushing herself off the floor and rushed to go put it on your front porch.

“Is that so? Momma wanted to surprise me?” He looked up at you, raising his brows as he stood up straight and placed his hands on his sides.

“Maybe..” You couldn’t help but smile, following after her to go put the cobwebs up, carefully and strategically hanging them around the large fake spider you had gotten earlier that week.

He was quick to follow after you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissed your cheek with a grin.

“I can help you decorate, y’know. I’m home now.” He suggested quietly, squeezing you lightly as he looked back at your kids messing with the pumpkins.

Of course you took up his offers quickly.

You had him rake up the leaves to shove into those pumpkin leave bags, tying them tightly and set them up infront of the porch, while getting the kids to not jump on them and tear them open.

He had even helped Charlotte carve one of her pumpkins, lighting a tea candle inside for her, watching as her face lit up.

Meanwhile with Liam he helped him set up some fake graves and bones around the yard, listening to your son rant about zombies and the undead the entire time.

You couldn’t help but admire him, loving how he was interacting with the kids, making you fall in love with him even more.

“Hon, you’re staring.” He raised a brow at you from where he was stood in the yard, a smile on his lips as he walked over to you and rested his arms on the porch railing.

“You look pretty in the moonlight.” You simply said, reaching a hand forward and carded your fingers through his hair.

“That’s rich coming from you.” He chuckled lightly, grabbing your hand and gently kissed the pulse point on your wrist. “I missed you today.”

You leant forward and gave him a quick and chaste kiss, pulling back after a second and squeezed his hand. “I missed you too. Maybe tomorrow you can come with me and the kids to get some baking stuff.. they wanna make cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes? That sounds amazing.” He gave an approving look, glancing back at your kids before turning his gaze to you once more.

“Cupcakes it is. Let’s get them to bed so we can do that and they won’t sleep in until afternoon.” You gestured for him to get the kids while you went inside, cleaning up the kitchen quickly before entering your bedroom.

It didn’t take long until he was entering the room, his gaze falling onto the bed and gave you an amused look.

“Really? You switched my pillowcase for a pumpkin one?”

“It’s cute!”

tags: @lemoniiiiiii , @xrag-dollx , @jazz-berry (ask to be added!)

[kitslittlegirl]

ASPIRATIONS

word count: 1.4k

warnings: um it’s very soft. pretty fluffy, kinda angsty. in third person, most -readers- perspective

a/n: i’m so bad at holding descriptions while there’s dialogue. “he murmured, she hummed, he choked” so sorry if it sucks! i’m tired so maybe it’s entirely i coherent, who knows, NOT PROOFREAD

not my best work i hate it but i think it could get a part two? about y/n getting into school or somthinggggg

it was a simple, predictable life between you and kit. met fresh out of high school, got engaged when you were 19, and him 21.

all kit could talk about was your future together- a house, three kids- little girls, he hopes, coming home to me, a home, and his babies for the rest of his life. and you wanted that more than anything; you couldn’t wait to save enough money together to get your first house, to get that dream wedding your mother always imagined you having.

except for one thing; a career. you weren’t sure what, you never had an opportunity to think about your future since it’d been laid out since the doctors knew you were a little girl. grow up, marry a nice man, have kids, be a housewife! but you knew you wanted to go to college, to get higher education, retire on my own funds.

it only became more daunting in your mind as the new law recently passed- women and men were to receive equal educational opportunities. you finally had a chance, you could be the first career woman in your family!

but what would kit think? what if i crush his heart? of course you want kids, the house, the wedding- the works! but what if he doesn’t want to wait for kids? what if he wants them now and doesn’t want to wait for your own career? you can’t work in the run down diner forever.

you can’t decide what’s worse; telling kit your dreams and risking losing the love of your life, or not telling him and live a life you know you could bring more to?

him or you, is what it really came down to.

you’ve mulled over the idea in your head of telling him, and it going perfectly! but you’ve also catastrophized about every horrible reaction he could have; he could go through with the house, kids, wedding, but resent you, find a lover on the side. he could leave you to never love again. he could disappear the next morning and never say a word to you again. anything could happen.

but the wedding is creeping closer- it’s in 57 days now. and you need to tell him. you have to, but you can’t find the courage- and of course, being the perfect man he is, noticed.

kits noticed your furrowed brows when you sit in silence, he’s found you reading the newspaper sections about the new law, education opportunities. and it’s itching him just as much to figure out what’s going wrong with you.

it’s a late, thursday night. it’s your off day so your at home, humming to a ella fitzgerald record buzzing from the living room while you finish up dinner while you wait for kit to come home. 7:14 on the dot, like always.

you hear the squeak of the door, and latch shutting, so you call to him.

“welcome home, my loveee!” drawing out the last word slightly.

kit unbuttons his grease-coated work shirt and hangs it by the door, bringing his lunch into the kitchen to unpack- later though, if he remembers.

“helloooo, beautiful” he mumbles, clearly a little whooped from his long day. kit comes behind you, holding your hips, and bringing you close. he relaxes most of his body weight into you, holding your warmth close to heat up his body from the cold night. he rests his head on your shoulder, eyes shut from the sleepiness.

“what’s for dinner?” his charming little accent pokes through in the hum against your shoulder, making you smile.

“i’ve got some asparagus and that spicy fish you like in the oven, and the brown rice is almost done. i should be finished in…20 minutes.”

kit lets out a low hum in acknowledgment, rocking your bodies side to side- you were sure he was half asleep.

“we need to talk about somethin’, baby” you murmured quietly, maybe hoping he couldn’t even here you.

kit hoped you’d say that. he’d been itching to talk about why’d you’d been so different. had you been having second thoughts? did you get laid off? were you pregnant already? he’d run through every scenario, and needed to know just as much as you needed to tell him.

“we sure do.” he agrees, making your heart twist. of course he’s noticed. what if you were hurting him? scaring him? you felt like shit about this whole thing.

“so, you’ve heard of the new law? higher education for women…”

“yeah…what about it?”

“well, how do you feel about that? women receiving higher education, i mean” you fidget with the tongs to distract your nerves.

“i think…it’s a step in the right direction. about time you guys had a choice, yeah?” kits answer relieves you, your shoulders relaxing for the first time in a while.

“yeah. yeah, definitely…”

“why do you ask?” kits brows were furrowed, which you could only see out of the corner of your eye, his fingers fidgeting with the part of the apron that fell on your hips.

“well…how would you feel if i said i wanted a higher education?” this was it. you asked. this could ruin everything, everything you’d built with him. his heartbeat against your back and soft breathing on your neck only made you all the more petrified, the tension leaking back into your shoulders.

kit was confused, if anything. not really disappointed…he just felt like this came out of nowhere. it did, honestly. he’d never hear you speaking about education or a career, he was fairly convinced your guy’s future was set in stone.

he was conflicted. he still wanted to build this life with you, and he wasn’t sure how an education might change that.

“do you not want kids anymore…? or the wedding or the—“

“no, kit- i mean, yeah, yes, of course i still want it.” you cut him off, your heart racing as his did against you. you turn from the stove, taking a step to the side to face him, needing to look him in the eye to say this.

“i’d get married like yesterday if we could but…i’d wanna wait on the kids maybe…i want a career, college. but i want you too. can i have both? that’s what i need to know, kit.”

kits looking at you as you speak, the tension in your shoulder, the anxiety in your furrowed brow. he saw you differently now. as a woman with a different dream than he knew, what he expected.

he blamed himself for being so traditional at this point. he wondered if he was the reason you waited so long to say anything. did he just want a housewife? no…right? of course not. he wanted you, housewife or career woman. the love of his life.

while he pondered, he took too long to respond and the rambling seemed to spill out of you. regret seeped into your chest, wishing you could take it all back. you ruined everything, you were sure of it.

“it’s fine if you don’t, i get it, i can be your housewife, im okay with that! i’ll stay home, i’ll take care of our little ones, keep it clean, make you—“

“is that what you want, baby?” he squeezed your hands a little harsher than intended to grab your attention, cutting you off.

“do you want to be a housewife? or do you want a career? because i want you. i don’t care about having kids the minute i’ve got a ring on your finger, i don’t mind sharin’ the chores with you while you put in the work for your future. i can clean too, i can cook, i can take care of kids” kits chest is tight as he tells you that you’re free. while she shows you that he doesn’t expect a certain thing from you as a woman, that he supports you.

your heart is racing, but warm as he rambles on. ease again. your shoulder relax, your brows knitted in confusion, appreciation.

his words are insistent, strong, true and you can feel each one.

“really? i can go to school?”

“absolutely. please go to school, if that’s what you want. i’d love to see you build a beautiful career for yourself. use that perfect brain of yours” he smiles tenderly, almost as if to cry, but not quite.

but you do. tears stain your round cheeks and he reaches to hold it.

“c’mere, baby” kit mumbled as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close to his heart like you were the only thing in it- you were.

you wrap your arms around his waist, his heart pound’s against your cheek and it’s all you here.

“i love you” you speak through your soft cries.

“i love you too, sweetheart. more than you know.”

[redroses07]

Date Night // Kit Walker

Kit Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kit and reader haven’t had much time to themselves recently, so he decides to give her the perfect date night.

WC: 1.1k

Warnings: Smut 18+, Fingering, Swearing, Kissing, Making out, Fluffy af (maybe a little cringe).

A/N: Hey lovelies, I really like this fic and Kit is my favorite Evan character and I totally need to write about him more. Hope you guys like this! And as always comments and reblogs are appreciated. Love you guys sm, and thank you for all the support! - Claire ♡

You stood in front of your mirror, inspecting your chosen outfit. You had hoped it would match the occasion, considering your husband hadn't given you much information other than "put on something nice." It had been a while since the two of you were able to go out. Both of your schedules had become so busy, to the point where you barely had any time to see each other.

So finally, when both of you had a free evening, Kit made it his mission to organize the perfect date. Which apparently meant it being a complete surprise. You didn't know how you felt about that since always having a plan was calming to you, but you were willing to leave it to Kit just this once.

You made your way into the living room, heels clicking behind you.

"I'm ready, love." You called.

Kit, who was sitting on the couch, stuck his head up to look at you.

"Aww, baby you look so beautiful." Kit jumped up from the couch and walked towards you. He placed his hands on either of your arms and gave you a soft yet passionate kiss.

"So can I know where we're going yet?" You interrogated.

"Nope." Kit said.

You rolled your eyes, and he responded by kissing you on the cheek and leading you out to the car. He opened your door for you, as he always did, before getting in the driver's seat.

You drove for several minutes, passing from the suburbs into the busy town. Kit turned on the radio, and you listened to the music mixed with static as you rode along.

Kit kept one hand on the steering wheel, and the other glued to your thigh. He occasionally glanced over at you, only to give you the sweetest smile. You loved his smile, it was by far your favorite feature of his. The way his lips turned up, and his eyes crinkled in admiration.

Kit finally stopped and parked the car in front of your favorite restaurant. You smiled, happy that he had remembered your favorite place.

“Awww! This is such a sweet surprise, thank you honey.” You smiled, leaning over into the drivers seat to give him a hug.

Kit chuckled slightly.

“Well, sugar, this is only part of the surprise.”

You pulled back, raising your eyebrows in curiosity.

Kit kissed you on the cheek in response, and proceeded to exit the car.

The two of you made your way into the restaurant. Kit kept his arm around your waist, he always had to keep you close to him. But of course you didn’t mind.

Kit confirmed his reservation with the waiter, and he motioned for the two of you to follow him. To your surprise, he led you past the busy main rooms, and through a small door.

The door had a sign with the word “Reserved” on it.

Inside was a single table with two chairs. Rose petals were strewn across the floor and table, and a bottle of far too expensive looking champagne was placed in the center of the table.

You looked at Kit, a giddy expression on your face. Some might think this was cheesy, but not you. God you loved him so much.

“Thank you, ahhh I love you.” You sashayed over to the table and took a seat.

The two of you were quick to order your meal, and it was quicker to arrive than usual. You assumed because you were considered special guests tonight.

As you ate, Kit didn’t fail to remind you how beautiful you looked; and you didn’t fail at becoming a blushing mess every time. No matter how long the two of you were together, you would never get used to his flattery.

His hand reached across the table, softly taking yours. Fingers brushed over your wedding band, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Suddenly, you couldn’t wait for this meal to be over.

Once the check arrived, Kit was fast to pay the bill and the two of you were on your way out.

On your way home, Kit once again had his hand on your thigh, but you didn’t miss how he not so discreetly placed it higher.

“Did you enjoy your dinner, love?”

“Of course, and the private seating was honestly one of the sweetest things ever,”

“But I still can’t help feeling a little unsatisfied.” You flirted, leaning in slightly.

“Is that so?” Kit hummed, his hand sliding slowly under your dress.

“mhm” You squirm, trying your hardest not to squeeze your thighs together.

Kit pulled into the driveway and turned the engine off. No more than five seconds later did he dive over into the passenger seat and kiss you with a burning desire.

He kept his hand pressed against your thigh, squeezing it hard as he kissed you. You let out a sigh, leaning back into the seat.

Kit’s hand snakes further up your dress, and into your panties. The feeling of his cool hands against your dripping core, was enough to make you let out a suppressed moan.

He pushed two fingers in, and you threw your head back in bliss. More moans fell from your lips, and you could feel yourself getting lost in his touch.

“Yeah, that’s my girl, let me hear all those pretty noises.” Kit praised as he jammed his fingers in you.

You could feel yourself pulsing around him, and you could tell that you wouldn’t last long.

You gave Kit a sloppy kiss, a mix of tongue and erotic sounds. You rolled your hips up, grinding against his hand.

“Fuck, someone’s needy.” Kit teased.

You whined softly, feeling yourself about to climax.

“Oh shit-“ You moaned as you shamelessly rode his hand.

“Shhh baby it’s okay.” Kit whispered in your ear, as he placed kisses down your neck.

That was enough to push you over the edge. You cried out as you felt a wave of indescribable pleasure wash over you.

“Oh god, Kit.” You shouted as you rode out your high.

Kit kept his eyes on you, a loving smile on his face.

“My beautiful girl.” Kit murmured.

He slowly removed his fingers from inside of you, and kissed you once more.

“I sure hope you’re satisfied now.” Kit laughed, his lips still mere inches from yours.

“More than satisfied.” You giggled, grabbing him by his shirt and kissing him roughly.

He pulled away after a few moments.

“How about we get in the house first before we continue with anything else?”

“You’re no fun.” You rolled your eyes playfully, before opening the car door and pulling your husband behind you.

[hauntedrose555]

I JUST FOUND OUT THAT KIT WALKER IS A TAURUS LIKE MEEE!

[ahqkas]

♯ KIT WALKER masterlist !

❛ 🚬 ━ personal favorite

❛ 🎞️ ━ fluff

❛ 📻 ━ angst

❛ 🪝 ━ suggestive themes

! ONESHOTS ౨ৎ

i. God knows i tried — kit is a true gentleman at heart, and he does what kind men do : he protects the ones he cares about ( 🚬 📻 🪝 )

! BLURBS ౨ৎ

[violet-harmon2011]

sad girl

[xrag-dollx]

Early Celebration

Kit Walker x fem!reader

Summary: You and Kit visited the market to get some groceries for the upcoming week. You both left the house for just about an hour...without the kids. Perhaps a bad mistake?

Warnings: just pure fluff 🥹

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Kit were driving back from the grocery store, the car full of bags filled with the essentials you needed for the upcoming week. It had only been an hour since you both left the house. Although Kit had suggested taking the kids, but you insisted they’d be fine. Thomas and Julia were responsible enough, after all.

As Kit pulled into the driveway of your cozy home, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his stomach. It wasn’t uncommon—he was still adjusting to a life free from fear, one where he didn’t have to constantly look over his shoulder. You had noticed it too and reached over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Honey, it's gonna be fine... they're old enough to leave them alone just for an hour"

You spoke, your smile contributed Kit a relieving feeling.

You took the bags of groceries to carry them inside. You opened the front door, however, that unease became something else entirely.

“Thomas? Julia?” you called out, stepping inside. A weird smell was greeting you before you saw the mess. Flour dusted the floors like snow, eggshells crunched underfoot, and a strange mix of ingredients—sugar, butter, and something that looked suspiciously like ketchup—were smeared across the kitchen counter. The scene was pretty chaotic, to say the least.

Kit followed behind you with arms full of bags, his eyes widened with surprise. The pristine kitchen you had left an hour ago now had similarities to a war zone. The source of the mess quickly made itself known as two small heads popped up from behind the counter. Thomas, with flour streaked through his hair, and Julia, holding a whisk that dripped with a lumpy mixture, stared up at their parents with wide, innocent eyes.

“What in the world...happened here?” you asked, your voice calm but with a distinct edge that every mother seemed to master.

Julia, the elder of the two, bravely stepped forward. “It’s Daddy’s birthday!” she declared with a proud smile. “So we made him a cake!”

Kit blinked, taken aback. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Sweetheart, my birthday isn’t until—”

“But we wanted to surprise you, Daddy!” Thomas interrupted, his voice high-pitched with excitement. “We did it all by ourselves!”

You exchanged a look with Kit, your expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. You took a deep breath, your stern motherly gaze was softening as you knelt down to Julia’s level. “I see you’ve been working very hard,” you said, brushing some flour off Julia’s cheek. “But next time, maybe wait for Mommy and Daddy to help, okay?”

Julia’s face fell slightly, but she nodded, her eyes still hopeful. “We just wanted to make you happy, Daddy.”

Kit’s heart melted at the sight of his children, their faces full of love, excitement (and flour) despite the disaster they had just created. He couldn’t help but laugh, pulling both of them into a warm hug. “I am happy, Jules. You two are the best surprise I could ever ask for.”

You smiled, the tension in your shoulders was easing. You stood up, surveying the mess again, as you turned back to Kit with a resigned sigh. “Well, I suppose we should start cleaning this up.” you spoke, your gaze switched between Julia and Thomas.

Kit shook his head, still holding Thomas and Julia close. “Not yet,” he said, a mischievous grin was spreading across his face. “It looks like we’ve got a birthday to celebrate.”

The kids beamed up at him, their earlier worries forgotten as Kit grabbed a party hat from a drawer—a relic from a past celebration—and placed it on his head. “How about we pretend it’s my birthday today?” he suggested. “And then we can all enjoy this…cake!.”

Julia’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” Kit confirmed. “But first, let’s finish what you started.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, you as a family worked together, cleaning up the mess while you took charge of salvaging the leftovers of the cake batter. It wasn’t perfect—far from it, actually, but the effort mattered more than the outcome.

A short while later, you sat around the kitchen table, the world’s most lopsided cake sitting proudly in the center. It was slightly burnt around the edges and had a strange pinkish hue from the mystery ingredients the kids had thrown in, but to Kit, it was the most beautiful cake he’d ever seen.

As you sang “Happy Birthday,” Julia and Thomas’ voices louder than anything else, Kit looked around the table, with all the people he liked to spend his time with the most...the mess, the laughter, the love that filled the room—he felt a profound sense of gratitude.

For the first time in a long while, he felt like he could breathe freely, knowing that no matter what came their way, they would face it together, one flour-dusted step at a time.

-------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @fear-is-truth @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @trueangel420 @evanpeterspeter @lacucarachapisser @evanpeterswifeyyy

[luvlanadr]

hii there! if you accept requests atm, could you please write a sweet and fluffy fic about a female reader comforting a really sad and drained kit walker in briarcliff after he was submitted to some harsh punishment from sister jude? tysm <3

hi!!

aa yes i love this idea sm, thank u sm for your request!!

𝐤𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°. *࿐•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°. *࿐•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°

i waited in the common room, as dominique played softly in the background, sister jude insisted she spoke with kit, and she didn't not seemed pleased whatsoever, a snarl sketched on her faced.

♫ 𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲, 𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲, 𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲,𝘀'𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁,𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘂𝘃𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁,𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘀, 𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘂𝘅,𝗶𝗹 𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗱𝘂 𝗯𝗼𝗻 𝗗𝗶𝗲𝘂,𝗶𝗹 𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲 𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗱𝘂 𝗯𝗼𝗻 𝗗𝗶𝗲𝘂,𝗮 𝗹'é𝗽𝗼𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗼𝘂 𝗝𝗲𝗮𝗻-𝘀𝗮𝗻𝘀-𝗧𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲,𝗱'𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗲 é𝘁𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗶,𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲, 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗿𝗲 𝗽è𝗿𝗲,𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗔𝗹𝗯𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗶𝘀,𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲, 𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲, 𝗻𝗶𝗾𝘂𝗲,𝘀'𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁,𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝘂𝘃𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁,𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘀, 𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘂𝘅, ♪

i hummed gently to the beat, when you've been here for a significantly long period of time, even the lyrics, although in a foreign langue become second nature, i used the soft beat as a way of attempting to ground myself, i was extremely worried about kit.

sister jude could be incredibly ruthless and obscenely harsh, going as far to physically harm and endanger the patients of briarcliff.

i bounced my leg up, the apprehension rising as i sat awaiting for kit's inevitable return, i simply zoned out for a while before i heard a man scream, 'i didn't do it, i swear,' the man pleaded, the familiarity and desperation of the voice suddenly hit me... kit.

the guard dragged him back into the common room, as kit resented slightly, as their grip became harsher dragging him in such a degrading, humiliating manner, before they flung him on the chair, his body weak and clearly exhausted

his eyes were glassy, tears brimming in his eyes, the guards stormed away clearly irritated, due to kit slightly resenting their harshness.

i ushered over and sat in the chair beside him, 'y/n?' he murmured, sniffling slightly, keeping his tears at bay.

'kit, darling are you ok?' i cooed, resting my hand on his, which was tensly gripping his thigh, i felt the tension decrease ever so slightly, as i softly caressed his hand, comfortingly.

'no one believes me,' he paused, exhaling deeply, in attempt to brace himself to continue, 'what if i did do something a-and i j-just can't remember?' the panic and apprehension laced his voice, the man i loved diminishing before my eyes, due to the harshness of this cruel facility. 'i-i just can't cope anymore, i'm so mentally and physically drained, i just what if i'm a monster, i-i've begged for forgivness ,and-'

'kit, darling come here,' i pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping my arms securely around kit's lean torso, 'i believe you, i know you didn't do it.' i hummed

he leant down slightly, burying his head into my shoulder as he silently wept, 'shhh, it's okay kit, i've got you, ok?' i rubbed his back soothingly.

'i love you so much,darling' kit murmured, his voice muffled, as i played with his hair, 't-thank you for this'

'i love you more kit, and i know you're being truthful' i kissed his forehead, 'i will always be here for you no matter what.'

•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°. *࿐•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°. *࿐•°. ࿐.·:¨༺ ༻¨*:·.•°

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭, 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐭 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐚𝐬 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 :)

𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐦, 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨