#kit walker fluff

[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...

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

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》

[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.

[shescallinmedaddy]

too much.

kit walker x f!reader .

warnings - smut, dirty talk, cursing, cunnilingus, fingering, lmk if im missing any.

wanna write something inspired off the first scene with him and alma??? i had to get something out for my baby daddy. but send in some requests cause writers block.

word count - 684 .

it was as if kit couldn’t get your clothes off fast enough once he returned home, barely even getting out a hello before his lips were on yours. his sense of urgency seeming to leave once his palms were finally on your bare skin. while at first they rub up and down your waist, they soon still opting to back you up into the dining room table. kits lips separate from yours before his palms trail to the back of your thighs before lifting you onto said dining room table, and gently pressing your back onto the cool wooden surface. spreading your legs, and slotting himself in between them he just looks down adoringly at you as his hands begin to explore your body as if there’s an inch he hasn’t explored yet.

“you’re fucking gorgeous, darlin’.” kit mutters, before his lips meet your again,

his lips are soon trailing to your jaw, before leaving marks for him to admire later on your neck. and while he’d love to tease you longer as he usually does, he finds his sense of urgency returning once again. so his lips trail lower and lower, skipping where you need him most and instead littering your thighs in kisses and marks. soon his breath is fanning over you clit, while he looks up at you with a lustful eyes, and bites his lip.

“stop teasing, kit” you complain and pout to him.

“oh darlin’, don't worry,” he starts, laying a kiss to your clit, “you’ll be begging me to stop.”

once the words leave his lips, he’s licking a bold stripe from your hole to your clit with a moan leaving his mouth before diving in like a man starved. lapping at the juices your cunt offered him as if it was some sort of refreshment. you find your fingers tangling into his hair at the pleasure his tongue gives you, and the tug you give makes kit release a groan which vibrates through you making the pleasure of his tongue all that much better. you tugging at kits hair also does nothing but egg him on.

his lips soon wrapping around your clit, and his fingers prodding at your entrance. he gently eases his two fingers into your cunt, until finally slipping them all the way into you. at the way your thighs try to tighten around his head and his wrist, he uses his free hand to give his wrist just enough space to thrust into your cunt.

his fingers plunging into your cunt and his tongue lapping at your clit making you a panting moaning mess, making kit nothing less than euphoric as he can feel the damp spot in his boxers worsening. you cant help but huck your hips to get more, more of his mouth, more of his fingers, more of him. you thighs once again threatening to close around his head, he adjust his wrists so he can still thrust his fingers into you and feel your plush thighs around his head.

“fuck, feels so good, k-kit” you stutter out, yanking at his hair.

kit can't help but speed up had ministrations at your confession, and with his free hand no longer keeping your thighs spread, he begins to palm himself through his work jumper. his fingers curling in to you to hit the perfect spot, his tongue lapping at your clit with some sort of need, nearly pushing you over the edge.

“gonna cum for me, darlin’?” kit questions seductively, immediately returning to his prior actions.

you feel your thighs tightening even more, and your back arching off the table at the question before you’re giving him exactly what he wants with a string of curses leaving your lips. but even once you do, his fingers don't slow and neither does his tongue, and you find yourself yanking at his scalp at the overstimulation.

“s’too much b-baby” you finally manage to get out, trying to push him away from you.

at first he just shakes his head from between your thighs before muttering, “baby, you’re gonna take whatever i give you.”

a/n : i kinda hate this but idk lmk what you think

[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

[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]

COMFORT

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, hurt, whump?, confused feelings at the end, fluff with too much plot i fear

a/n: i feel like this could do with a part two??

the cold, autumn air only seemed even more biting in the stone walls of Briarcliff. the eerie whistling in the wind, the murmurs and chatters of the psychos around Kit buzzed at an uncomfortable frequency.

though, there was hardly ever comfort. even at night. he’d lay on his rock solid, creaky bed, subjected to the groaning pipes and the neighboring crazies, one of which was never not jerking off from sunrise to sunset. how’d he even stay awake so long?

there’s was no comfort until you.

you got thrown into the asylum for a classic case of “female hysteria” and playing into some harsh accusations a little too much to backpedal from it.

you were the only person he’s seen come in here that was even remotely lucid. you weren’t balled up in a corner chanting whispers, you weren’t rubbing one out violently on the common room couch. you kept to yourself, you read to pass the time. you were aware of your surroundings. and by the look on your face, disgusted and confused by them.

he had to talk to you. to anyone, really. but his neighbors weren’t great candidates and the spineless nuns shunned him for his “murders.”

he was sane when he came here, but the longer he’s been, he feels like he might really be going insane. the repetition and abuse that comes each day was enough to make even the toughest crumble slowly.

he worked up the courage to approach you about a week after you were admitted- he was nervous, shaking like a leaf. whether it was a side effect of the electro therapy or the fact he hadn’t had regular human interaction in months and forgot how to even start a conversation, he managed to make his way over to you.

he used the clearly fresh burns on your temples as an excuse to say something, sitting down across from you with a shaky exhale.

“they got you on electro therapy too?” he questioned, though the answer was obvious, it got a response out of you.

“yeah. like 90 volts” you slurred in one jumbled breath. your hands seemed to permanently tremble since the shocks. it was like permanent anxiety.

Kit straightens himself out to seem more socially inept.

“they’ll give you a headband if you ask and you can put those slimy cucumbers they give us on your temples; hide em’ with the head band. they help. i do it every time.” he rambled in a sweet effort to create a comfortability between you two.

“okay…thanks” i mumbled, with an out of it gaze just past kits face. i was there- more than everyone else here, but hardly. those volts really got to you.

“i’m y/n” you make an effort to keep the conversation rolling, figuring a friend would be nice in this hellhole.

“kit” he hums politely, a pleased little smile on his lips at your reciprocation.

time goes on in here slowly. so torturously slow, my god. kit clings to you like a dog. he doesn’t know what would happen without as his crutch, and he never wants to find out. you’re all he’s got right now.

but it’s getting to him. he can’t take it, the punishments he’s been given lately. the beatings, burns, lashing.

kit and you got caught trying to escape. not the first time, but this time was the closest you guys ever got. but he took the fall for you, and despite you insisting you were involved, not even being able to handle the thought of what they may to to him, they didn’t believe you. he wanted to take the blame for you.

he felt partially responsible for you in here. he needed to watch over you. take the blame for you.

they’ve been relentless with his “treatments,” punishment’s, giving him the nastiest chores. he can’t sleep comfortably with all the bruises on his body from the lashings, not that he was getting much sleep before hand. his lawyer is getting nowhere in proving him innocent, quite frankly, he doesn’t think the lawyer cares enough.

it’s eating him alive.

“maybe i am meant to be here. what if i just don’t remember doing it? i’m not innocent”

the words pounded in his head day after day. you could tell something was up, but he wouldn’t tell you. “it’s fine, i’m fine. are you okay?” he’d flip it on you. he didn’t want your concern. he didn’t want to feel even more exposed and vulnerable than he was already forced to.

a little after the new year came around, you’d been here a few months, kit, a little over 6 months- he snapped. it was a freezing night, movie night. neither of us knew the movie, but it was some hyper-religious bullshit. sometime in the middle, he sneaks off and you follow soon after.

it doesn’t take you long to find him by the window in the kitchen looking like he was a breath away from sobbing. he paced fervently in front of the faintly moonlit window.

“kit, what happened, what’s wrong?” your brows tied together in concern and cluelessness. you attempt to reach for his hands which were fidgeting frantically in his hair, but you quickly pulled back.

he stops pacing but seems to want to keep going; like he needs his body to keep moving to distract himself. his cheeks were a sore red from tears and pressing his hands to his face to quiet his mind.

“i can’t- i can’t do it! i can’t handle it! this place is turning me crazy! i can feel it in my head!” he utters through choked sobs he seems embarrassed off. he’s shaking violently; he looks sick.

“stop- please, don’t do that shit, you’re scaring me!” you try to pull his hands away- he lets you, but grabs them, squeezing them hard, looking at you like you have all the answers.

“i’m not gunna make it in here! they’re gunna kill me in here or i’ll rot in prison for murders i didn’t commit!” he raises his voice out of sheer angst, his lips shining with salty tears, his big, puppy eyes looking at you with a shattered soul behind them.

you look up at him and your eyes glaze over, lip twitching slightly. you wanna cry too. seeing your only person here breaking into pieces and not able to do a thing because you’re hardly held together yourself? it’s breaking you. it did break you.

a few tears fall, stinging on your cheeks.

you hug him- tightly, so, so tightly, and he hugs back. his fingers dig into your hair as he hold you to his chest, your fingers clinging to the gown against his back. his heart he pounding directly against your ear, your bodies vibrating together with sobs.

“we’re gunna be okay, i promise, we’re fine, we have to be” you hum a broken sound against his chest, sounding insistent as you tried to convince both of you that you weren’t being eaten alive by your own minds now.

you can hear a soft croak from him like he wants to speak, but decides against it. his lips press against your messy hair, tears rolling into the strands.

“i love you. we have to be okay.” your voice is hardly audible, mostly another breath in the air. but he hears you, he feels you against his heart. you can hear it race a little, providing a small comfort for a moment.

“love you too” kit whispered against your hairline, brushing his lips against your forehead as if to kiss it, but not doing so.

neither of you knew what that meant for you two. you absolutely loved each other. but god knows neither of you had the mental capacity to figure out what that love meant.

all it is for a now is a soft comfort. you kiss his chest gently, both your sobs evening out.

[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

[redroses07]

Random Kit Walker Headcannons!

A/N: this is a lot of yapping so get ready! This is all SFW btw, if you want a NSWF version then put it in my reqs box!

- Claire ♡

Kit was forever one to spoil you.

It was always,

“Let me get that for you sugar,” when you didn’t feel like getting out of bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” He would caress your hand as he grabbed the check to pay for your date.

“What do ya want? I’ll go to the market and make it.” When you didn’t feel like cooking dinner.

Kit never allowed you to want for anything. You came before him, in everything.

You were the light of his life, his happiness.

Kit didn’t know how he could possible love you more, but with every soft kiss, lingering touch, and warm embrace he proved himself wrong.

Kit tells you he knew love at first sight was real because he felt it when he met you.

Your hair falling effortlessly over your shoulders, the sun perfectly illuminating your face, he knew you were made for him.

He stumbled over his words when he first spoke to you, but you found his flustered-self charming.

He is definitely one for physical touch, but is rather against pda.

A grip on your hand is okay, but anything more makes him uncomfortable. It’s when your in private that he really lets himself loose.

Arms wrapped around your waist, a hand on your thigh, a hand slipping under your nightclothes while you’re cuddling on the couch.

He wouldn’t know what to do if not for these intimate moments spent with you.

[kittenwalker]

hi there! i was wondering if you also accept requests, if so please could you write kit walker stepping in and taking the blame for something wrong the reader did inside the asylum to protect her from sister jude? thanks a lot either way.

yes, I accept requests so if anyone wants any you can just text them to me and I would gladly write them!

You were slowly feeling insane the more you were here. You were here for about 6 months already because you murdered your baby brother out of rage as he wasn’t cooperating with you. You couldn't remember anything from that day though as if your mind just blocked it out. You weren't sure if you did murder your baby brother but how could you? You adored him so much.

Hearing a click snapped you out of your daze.

" Your move darlin' "

Looking at the board, you moved one of your bishop killing Kit's rook. Kit was the reason why you kept your sanity in this filthy place. He had a similar reason why he was admitted here, also not being able to remember what happened on that day. Kit was always so nice to you, playing chess with you and even stealing things with you. Honestly, you were falling for him.

" Checkmate," you said victory lacing your voice

" I can never win with ya can I? " Kit said defeated

" Nope," you said shaking your head

You looked up at the clock and realized it was time for your bakery shift. You quickly said goodbye to Kit and ran off to the bakery. Kneading the dough over and over again, making your arms sore. This sucks without Kit, you thought to yourself.

Rolling the dough into balls and slapping them onto the tray. You pop the trays of dough into the oven and waited for it to bake. You were thinking about stuffing a few pieces of bread into your pockets as the food they served was awful and not fulfilling.

As the timer dinged, you took out the tray being careful not to drop it. Looking around to see if anyone was near you, then you sneakily filled your pockets with bread. Running out of the bakery as your shift was over, you saw Kit going down as he had one last shift before the day ended. You walked back into your cell and went into a corner to munch on the stolen bread before going to sleep.

Waking up to the sound of metal squeaking, you figured someone has entered your cell. You looked up to see Sister Jude pulling you up by the shoulder. You were following Sister Jude, already knowing where this is headed. This path was leading to her office, she probably found out you stole her bread and was going to punish you.

Walking into her office, you saw Kit leaning over her table. Instantly you knew what was happening, Kit took the blame for you as his shift was the last and it was most likely he stole it.

" Y/n do you know why you are here " Sister Jude questioned, raising her eyebrows.

You slightly shook your head, acting as if you haven't already known.

" Well, when I was counting the number of bread yesterday "

" 3 pieces of bread were missing, " She said emphasising the word missing

" I told you it was me Sista'! " Kit screamed

" No, you keep your mouth shut! I wanna hear it come out of her lips "

You looked at kit, his face was pleading for you not to confess that it was you. So you went along with it.

" I didn't steal anything Sister " You felt a pang of guilt wash over you as soon as you said it.

Sister Jude's smirk fell upon hearing the confession but she had another idea to possibly make you break.

" Alright I take you for your word, but if you didn't do it then you wouldn't mind staying here and watching Kit get his 15 lashes right? " There was always a twist in the nun's games but you couldn't give in now.

" Sure I'm going to watch it with delight " You could already feel the tears welling up in your eyes, careful to not let them spill out.

Sister Jude started with one then followed by another. Stopping every whip so the pain can soak into Kit. Kit would slightly jump every lash, hearing him wince was not making it easier for you to watch.

The nun hoped that after every whip you would blurt out the sin you've committed, but as the number of lashes lowered her hope faded away. Soon the torture was over and both of you were dismissed.

As soon as you walked out of the office you fell into Kit's chest sobbing uncontrollably. After what he has done for you this is how you repaid him.

" I-I'm sorry it was my fault, I'm sorr- " you were interrupted by Kit shushing you.

" Hey it's alright I wanted to do it "

" How can I repay you? "

He stayed quiet, thinking of all the possibilities but he only wanted one thing. Kit slowly leaned into your face, holding your cheek, and kissed you. You felt his soft lips pressed against yours as both your lips were dancing together. You pulled away so you could catch some air, you felt shocked and speechless so you just stared into his eyes. He smirked and said.

" This was worth getting punished "