a/n: this idea has been stuck in my head FOR DAYSSS
part 1 - part 2
pre-asylum!kit x singlemother!reader
summary: when your truck breaks down in a town that already whispers about you, a quiet mechanic named kit offers more than just a repair. In 1962, kindness is rare — and not everything that starts small stays that way.
It started small — a stutter when you turned the key. a cough in the engine like it was clearing its throat.
you convinced yourself it was nothing, since you couldn’t afford for it to be something.
so you ignored it.
each day that passed seemed as if it got worser.
until the morning it refused to ignore you back.
It died halfway down main street.
the engine sputtered once — twice — then silence. the steering wheel went stiff under your hands. behind you, a car honked before deciding to drive around you. you swallowed the heat crawling up your neck and tried the ignition again.
nothing.
“wha—c’mon,” you muttered, like it might listen if you were polite.
from the corner of your eye you saw the bakery curtain twitch.
mrs. hargrove, of course.
what a way to boost up your reputation in this town.
from the backseat, your daughter — jaylene leaned forward between the seats.
“Is it broken again?”
“no, — no baby, we’re just … ” you lied automatically. “we’re just taking a quick rest.”
“you’re lyin’ again,” jaylene frowned, sitting back in the seat. crossing her arms as she looked out the window. “I hate when you do that.” she murmured.
that didn’t make your day any better.
you exhaled before your eyes glanced up and you paused, in the distance was a large white building, red-bolded letters and a open garage. the sign read;
“woodall gasoline”
you’ve driven past it a bunch of times, at least one man or two were standing outside most of the time.
you weren’t really the kind of woman to ask a man for any type of help.
—but you had gotten out anyway.
you managed to travel the distance to the open garage bay, a car happened to be coming down the street as you were walking in the direction.
they honked as they stopped to let you pass. “sorry!” you say aloud, giving them a small wave.
“..asshole.” you murmur as you finally make it.
it was much bigger up close, the tall garage was open and since you saw nobody outside you took it upon yourself to walk inside.
there was only one man inside.
he was bent over the hood of a chevy, sleeves rolled up, forearms streaked with grease. dark hair falling in his eyes. he didn’t notice you at first.
you hesitated.
you hated this part. the walking in. the explaining. the watching someone mentally calculate what they thought you could afford.
but the truck wasn’t starting, and you definitely weren’t pushing it home.
you stepped forward, smoothing your skirt, and cleared your throat.
“uh.. excuse me?”
he looked up.
and for a second — just a second — he just stared.
not in a bad way. not in the way some men did. just surprised, like he hadn’t expected you.
he straightened slowly, wiping his hands on a rag.
“yeah?” his voice was low, warm — thick with that western massachusetts drawl. soft r’s, vowels stretching lazy and slow. “you need somethin’?”
your throat felt dry.
“yeah — um, my truck won’t start..” you replied, trying not to stammer.
he glanced past you toward the road, spotting it immediately. then his eyes flicked to the little face peeking through your passenger window.
“yours?”
“yes.”
he nodded once. no judgment. no sigh. no smirk.
“alright. lemme take a look.”
that was it.
no lecture about maintenance. no comment about how long you’d probably let it go.
just alright.
he grabbed his toolbox and walked past you, boots crunching on gravel. you followed, folding your arms against the early fall chill, glancing around.
jaylene rolled the window down as he approached. a smile already on her face, she was always giddy to meet new people.
“well, hey there,” he said gently. he gave her a glance as he continuously made his way to the hood of the car. “you been helpin’ drive?”
she giggled. “no..”
he smiled — small but real — and you felt something in your chest loosen without permission.
He leaned under the hood after you popped it. The metal creaked. He worked quietly for a minute, focused. You watched his hands — steady, sure. He knew what he was doing.
“d’you fix fast cars, mister?” jaylene asked, curiosity laced in her tone.
“nah, why?” he replied low, and shook his head once, giving her another glance before looking back at the engine.
“my momma drives fast, a lot.”
“jayle— I- I do not.” you stammer, giving a quick look to your daughter before back at him. “I do not,” you repeat more clearer,
“please don’t listen to her— jaylene-stop leaning out the window.” you snap, giving her another stern look before she ducked back inside, her giggles following her.
kit let out a chuckle, “n’problem.” a small smile appearing on his face.
after a while, he finally looked up at you.
“how long’s it been makin’ that sound?”
your stomach dropped. “what sound?”
he gave you a look — not accusing, just knowing.
“the one you been ignorin’.”
heat crept up your neck.
“I don’t know…—a few weeks?”
he huffed softly through his nose. not a laugh. not quite.
“yeah. figured.”
you braced yourself for the number. for the this’ll cost ya.
Instead, he tightened something, adjusted a hose, then wiped his hands again.
“fuel line’s clogged. she’s been strugglin’.” He glanced at you. “ ‘kinda like you.”
you blinked before furrowing your brows at him. “excuse me?”
his face dropped, he hadn’t meant to come off disrespectful. he shrugged one shoulder, sheepish suddenly. “oh. oh no, just mean— you look tired.”
you didn’t know what to say to that. no one had said that like it was an observation instead of an insult.
he shut the hood gently, giving it a pat. clearing his throat to try and get rid of the awkward moment, he spoke up. “try it now.”
you slid back into the driver’s seat, heart thudding for no reason at all, and turned the key.
the engine coughed.
then caught.
alive.
you exhaled so hard your vision blurred for a second.
“Oh—” you looked up at him through the windshield. “oh, thank you!”
he stepped back, hands in his pockets.
“don’t thank me yet. she’ll need a proper cleanin’ soon. but she’ll get you home.”
“how much?”
the word tasted heavy.
he hesitated.
then shook his head. “don’t worry about it.”
you stared at him. “I can’t just—”
“s,alright.” He shrugged again, like it was nothing. “took ten minutes.” he added as if it was noting.
“that still costs something.”
he tilted his head slightly, taking this moment to finally study you. not your body. not your clothes. just you.
“…you new in town?”
“yeah,”
“thought so.”
there was something in his expression — recognition, maybe. like he understood more than you’d said.
“name’s kit.” he added, almost as an afterthought. “kit walker.”
you swallowed. “I’m—”
“I know,” he interrupted gently, nodding toward your daughter. “you’re the lady whose truck ain’t quittin’ on her anymore.”
It was so simple you almost laughed.
jaylene leaned out the window again, but this time — you didn’t mind.
“mom, I like him.”
kit’s mouth twitched.
you closed your eyes briefly in mortification.
“well,” he said softly, stepping back from the truck, “guess that settles it.”
you met his eyes for the first time without looking away.
they were kind. too kind for this town.
“..thank you, kit,” you said quietly.
he tipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“drive safe,” he replied. “and if she starts complainin’ again… you know where I am.”
as you pulled out of the lot, you glanced in the rearview mirror as jaylene leant waved as you drove past him, shouting out;
“bye, mister kit!”
he waved back before he turnt away, heading back to the station.
do you wanna get married or run away? — kit walker
masterlist
PAIRINGS: kit walker x female!reader
SUMMARY: when kit asked you if you want to run away or get married, you ultimately choose both. it's reckless, terrifying—but with him by your side, it had never felt so right.
REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.
WARNINGS: no use of y/n, pregnancy, mentions of strict traditional and catholic household, eloping/running away, shotgun marriage, reader being disowned, and slight typographical errors.
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i really love goo goo dolls lol and whenever 'slide' plays on shuffle, it always reminded me of kit. hope you guys will enjoy this one hehe
The clock strikes midnight just as you close the last zipper on your old canvas duffle bag. It’s not heavy, not really—just enough clothes to get you by, a battered photo album you could not leave behind, and the envelope of cash that you had stashed away from the last two summers working at the public library. You had originally saved the money you earned to buy books for university, maybe a few lunch out with friends when you go back for your second year of university. But just like every other people, life has a way of rerouting everything you thought you knew.
You began your escape from the house quietly, careful not to make the old wooden floors creak. You held your breath as you passed by your parents’ bedroom door. It was cracked open slightly, your mother’s rosary beads hanging from the doorknob, swaying faintly in the breeze that was coming from the window. It twists something sharp in your gut, something like regret, shame, but you kept walking. You know very well that after telling your parents the truth, there’s nothing left for you in this house but closed doors and the echo of disappointment.
You knew that the moment you decided to tell your parents everything, you had planned everything out. Your car is already parked a block away, you can’t risk the sound of the engine waking them. So you walked the distance quickly, the gravel crunching underneath your shoes louder than it has any right to be. When you finally slid behind the wheel and started the ignition, your hands were shaking, but you still drove. You drove fast, because you do not want to think too hard about what you’re doing and second guess everything.
The town is silent, nearly dead at this hour. All the houses, places you have known since you were little all seem foreign now. You pass by the church where your mother would always light candles and recites the Hail Mary, where the priest’s voice still lingers in your head—stern, cold, and condemning. ‘A child out of wedlock, shame on you!’ You pressed harder on the gas.
By the time you pull up in front of Kit’s house, your fingers have gone numb from gripping the steering wheel. The porch light is off, but his truck is parked out front, just where it always is after his late shift. You remain seated inside your car, watching the windows, wondering if he’s asleep, if he will open the door when you knock, or if he will be horrified when you tell him.
But you cannot stay in the car forever, so you finally got out. You carried your bag up to the door, feeling it dig into your shoulder, feeling the weight of everything you have done settle deep in your bones. You knocked, soft at first, then harder when there’s nonanswer. The porch creaks under your shoes as you shift your weight, heart thundering.
The door opens, and there he is. Barefoot, hair mussed from sleep, jeans hanging low on his hips, with a white shirt clinging to his chest. His eyes are heavy, but they go wide the second they land on you, like maybe he thinks that he’s still dreaming.
“Baby…?” his voice is rough. He clears his throat. “What are you doin’ here? It’s late.”
You did not answer right away. You stared at Kit, at the house behind him, and for a second you almost cried. But you did not, instead, you lift your chin and step inside when he moves out of the way. He shuts the door behind you, locks it out of habit. Kit looked at you like he knows something’s wrong.
“Are you okay?” he asked, “did somethin’ happen?”
You took a deep breath, trying to hold yourself together. “I’m pregnant, Kit.”
The words hang there for a second, thick and heavy in the air. You half expected him to leave the room, or get angry, or say it is not his. But he didn't, Kit didn't do any of that. He blinks, then he swallows, and then he comes closer to you, reaching out like he’s afraid to touch you, but he does.
Kit’s hand finds yours, warm and calloused, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re sure?”
You nodded, “you’re the only one I’ve ever been with.”
It’s the truth. You were raised to save yourself for marriage, to follow all the rules because of tradition. You broke one, and now here you are.
“I know it’s yours.” you added.
Kit stares at you for a moment longer. You can practically see the gears inside his head turning, he’s really thinking. You can see it in his eyes, how they soften around the edges, how something like wonder slips in.
“Okay,” he says, like it’s simple, like it’s not the biggest thing that has ever happened to either of you. “Okay.”
You exhaled shakily. “I ended up telling my parents because I was scared, Kit. I was hoping that they would be happy and support me, but they lost it. My mom called the priest, and my dad…” you shake your head. “They don’t want anything to do with me anymore, so I packed a bag and left.”
You say all of it as if it’s easy, but your throat is tight, and the words hurt coming out. He knows it too, he can see it in the way you can’t meet his eyes, and then suddenly, he’s pulling you in, arms wrapping around your body like they were made to. You can feel his heart pounding under your cheek. It’s steady, strong.
“You did the right thing,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hair. “You came here.”
“I didn't know where else to go.” your voice was shaking.
“This is where you belong,” he says, tilting your chin up with his fingers. There’s a look on his face that you have never seen before, like he’s making a promise without even saying it. “You and me, we’re gonna figure this out.”
“I don’t know what to do,” you admit. It feels raw, but it is the truth. “I was supposed to go back to university. I had plans, I was—”
“Hey, hey.” His hand slides to your cheek, warm and rough, grounding you. “Forget all that right now, we got something better.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Kit cuts you off gently. “I wanna be with you. With the baby. I wanna wake up where you are every damn day.”
You blink up at him, something sharp catching in your throat. “Kit…”
Kit smiled softly at you, almost shy, like he can’t quite believe that you are standing here, in front of him, saying his name like that. “Listen. I ain’t got much, you know that. I pump gas for a living, but I got two hands and a good heart, and I swear to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make you happy. Little pieces of nothin’...I’ll make ‘em into somethin’ if it makes you smile.”
He lets out a shaky breath, like maybe this is scaring him a little too, but he kept his eyes on you. “So, we can do this, you and me. We can run away, we can get married. Right now. I don’t care where we go, long as you’re there.”
Your heart is pounding so hard that you can almost hear it in your ears. You think about the life growing inside of you, you think about the empty house you left behind, about the life you planned, and the life you could have.
You nodded, slow and sure. “Let’s do both.”
Kit smiled brightly, and then he’s holding your face and kissing you like he’s been waiting to do it for years. It’s soft at first, then becomes something deeper, and his hand slips down to rest over your stomach, where the tiniest little life is starting to grow. His thumb strokes gently over your belly, even though you’re not showing yet. He’s already claiming both of you.
When the morning came, he had quit his job. He left a note on the counter at the gas station, thanking them for giving him a shot when nobody else would, but saying he’s got bigger things to take care of now.
You and Kit decided to get married at a county office two towns over, with a cheap ring and no guests. You sign your name on the line with shaky fingers while he watches you like you hung the moon. He kissed you again before the clerk even handed over the paperwork.
At this point in time, you don’t know where you and Kit are going yet. The car is packed with everything you own, and the sun’s setting behind you as Kit drives towards nowhere in particular. But one thing’s for sure is that it had never felt so good to leave everything behind.
Kit’s hand finds yours over the console, fingers laced together tight, and bringing it to his lips. You know you have made the right choice.
warnings/description: Kit Walker x Virgin!reader, smut, handjobs, blowjobs, heavy petting, spit, soft!dom Kit, fingering, p in v, Kit Walker being too hot for his own good, I think that’s it. Not proofread, wrote in like an hour please forgive me
Kit reasoned that he had an average sex drive for a man his age. It was something he thoroughly enjoyed not just for his own pleasure, but for his partners as well. Kit was a very attentive lover, putting the needs of others before himself. In fact, their pleasure only intensified his own.
He was gentle, but could be rough if asked. He was very versatile and while usually vanilla in bed, it was anything but boring. That’s when he met you. The innocent young lady who took an instant liking to him. You’d heard his reputation around town from the other women. How good he was in bed, but the idea of it scared you a bit. You were a virgin, having never had a ‘real’ relationship before. You took to Kit instantly. You two met in a diner and he’d asked you out on a date. And of course, since you weren’t stupid, you said yes.
He was patient with you, and never pushed you to do something you didn’t want to. He let you take the lead. Call the shots. Your first kiss with him was electric, and you immediately wanted more. But no. You wanted to go slow with this. Kit did too. He wanted you to really be ready and never feel pressured to do anything like that just for him.
Your kisses soon turned to full make out sessions with you sliding into Kit’s lap, your lips connected as you wrapped your arms around his neck, desperately pulling him closer. You’d never felt like this before. For anyone. It all felt so surreal. How had you found the perfect man?
Your makeout sessions usually ended as such. Just kissing. Until your touches began to get a bit bolder, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling his bare skin against yours. It made you shiver with anticipation. Mind racing with the dirtiest of thoughts.
And then there was tonight. It started as a few simple kisses until it turned into another makeout session. Something very common between the two of you. You were seated in his lap, chasing his lips with your own when your hand reached down and gently cupped his half hard bulge.
Kit tensed, meeting your eyes, his own dark ones blown wide.
“Suga- we- ya’ don’t have to do that doll-“ he started, but you pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.
“I want to.” You admitted with a blush. You were so curious and wanted nothing more than to finally see him in all his glory. To touch him. Make him feel good. It made your romantic heart flutter.
“Are you sure?” He placed his hands gently on your shoulders, watching you intently. “I can wait baby. I love you, I just want you to be comfortable.”
Bless his heart. Kit Walker, ever the gentleman. How did you go about telling him you wanted to? That you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted to touch him. See what made him squirm.
You pressed your hand a bit harder on his bulge and his breath hitched, grinding his hips up against your hand ever so slightly. I mean if you wanted this, he was ever so willing.
You were so curious, just waiting to see what was under those tight jeans of his. Of course you’d seen a dick or two before, but this was much different. Something so much more special. Sharing this moment with Kit.
You brought your other hand down to unbuckle and slide off his belt, slipping it through the loops until it fell loose. You then worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, getting those undone next. He sighed in relief at the release of tension, and your eyes were glued to his groin.
Now free of the confines of his more than tight jeans, his cock was filling out even more, poking out of the waistband of his underwear. You swallowed hard, swiping your thumb over the barely visible tip that peeled out of the waistband. Like a little surprise.
Kit shivered, a quiet groan slipping from his lips and you instantly froze, assuming you’d done something wrong.
Kit peeked down at you, eyebrow raised curiously
“Something wrong suga?”
“I just thought- was that a good noise?”
Kit nearly chuckled at your innocence, nodding. “Mhm, a very good noise baby. Ya makin’ me feel soooo good. You can keep going if ya want to.” He said, giving you permission to continue.
And you did. You carefully slipped his jeans down his thighs before doing the same with his underwear, watching as his cock nearly jumped out of you.
You gasped quietly which brought a quiet amused laugh from Kit’s lips.
“It won’t bite, baby. You can touch if ya want to.”
If you want to.
How he ended all his sentences, constantly reminding you to only do this if you wanted to.
You nodded and reached out, letting your palm slide against the side of his cock, watching as it reacted to your touch, twitching ever so slightly. You watched in awe, completely enthralled.
Kit smiled fondly at you before he leaned his head back, swallowing hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat was bared.
You looked back up at him and the way your innocent eyes shimmered with a devilish look nearly made Kit cum that very second.
“Can you show me how?” You asked, glancing back down at his cock that was now leaking pre-cum from the slit.
Kit nodded, eyes glazed over a bit from the pleasure that you were bringing. He took your hand and carefully wrapped it around his cock, applying decent pressure.
“Just- Mm- just like that suga. Ya just move your hand up and down, feels so good.” He assured, letting go of your hand and letting you try it for yourself.
Your hand barely wrapped around his girth and you seriously questioned how that would fit inside you. No matter, you weren’t there yet. You’d worry about it when it came time to.
You let out a pleased laugh. He was so warm, so hard but the skin was so soft. It was a feeling you could get used to. You did as he said, letting your hand slide up and down. Kit hummed contently before opening his mouth to guide you once more.
“Ya can spit on it too. Helps let your hand slide over it easier.” He suggested, helping you figure out what to do.
You let the saliva collect in your mouth for a second before you leaned down, letting a string of it slip from your mouth. The second it landed on the tip of Kit’s cock, a strangled moan came from his mouth, nearly scaring you.
He was getting progressively more worked up, his chest rising and falling a little heavier than before.
You smeared your spit across his cock with the palm of your hand, causing Kit to buck into said hand with a quiet sigh of pleasure.
“Just like that suga. Feels amazin’” his accent got heavier just as his breathing had, letting himself go a bit more as things progressed.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillows of his bed, sighing happily.
You leaned down curiously, his cock right in front of your face and you carefully stuck your tongue out and let it run across the thick head of it.
Kit’s head shot right back up, watching you intensely as you ran your tongue along his length. The taste as a bit salty, a bit bitter, but it was Kit.
“You don’t gotta do that suga-“ he said, not wanting you to feel pressured to do anything you didn’t want.
You rolled your eyes a bit and continued your adventure across his length, humming as you wrapped your lips around him finally. The stretch of your lips and the full feeling in your mouth was new. Interesting. But you enjoyed it. Especially seeing how it affected the man above you.
“Ya can’t look that innocent takin’ me like that baby- mmm f-fuck-“
Kit didn’t cuss much, so you knew he was beginning to lose control. And you found yourself wanting him to.
He let you do as you wanted for a while before he pulled you off of him, much to your dismay.
“Was it not good?” You asked, immediately assuming you’d done something wrong.
Kit shook his head, a blush appearing on his already flushed cheeks.
“No baby- no I just- I was close… didn’t want to cum in your mouth.” He said, avoiding your gaze. Oh, so he was the shy one now? You’d explore that more in the future.
“Kit please. I want this. Want you to take my virginity.” You hadn’t ever been very serious about any of that, wasn’t planning on waiting till marriage. Just… waiting for the right person, and you knew in your heart that person was Kit. The one you trusted enough to share this experience with. Who you knew wouldn’t judge you for any of it.
Kit pulled you into a kiss before his hands found their way to your little skirt, slipping easily under it. His thumb found your clothed slit and grinned at feeling how wet you’d become for him. He wanted to make this as painless as possible for you, so he wanted to try and open you up on his fingers first before he even attempted with his cock.
He laid you down against the bed, looking down at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his lips.
“Just relax for me suga, yeah? Gonna make ya feel real good. Such a good girl, all for me.” He hummed, his words sending a heavy shiver down your spine, through all your nerve endings.
You nodded, arching into his touch as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.
His fingers instantly found their way to your core and you gasped as he slipped a finger into you, easily. It felt odd, but you had experimented with your own pleasure before, so it wasn’t completely foreign.
It went like that for a while, Kit easing you into it, the whole time leaving gentle kisses all over your body, making you blush.
Eventually he had three fingers inside you, and it was a bit uncomfortable but not overbearingly so. You just felt full and you couldn’t even begin to fathom how full his cock would make you feel.
“I’m ready, Kit. Please. I want it. Want you.” You begged, writhing underneath him with a frustrated huff.
He carefully peeled off the rest of his clothes as well as yours, situating himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance.
“Look at me, look at me suga. If it hurts too much, if you’re uncomfortable or if you just aren’t feeling it you tell me and we stop. Okay?” He pressed the softest of kisses to your forehead, one of his hands reaching for your own and holding it gently, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
You could probably cry at this moment. How sweet he was. How much he cared about you. It was so overwhelming in the best ways.
You nodded at his words, pulling him down into another kiss as he slowly slowly began to push himself into you. It hadn’t hurt at first, but at a certain point he hit resistance and it hurt like hell. You winced, squeezing his hand tightly in your own, clenching your eyes shut. Kit whispered sweet nothings in your ear and placed gentle kisses across your neck and shoulders.
You zoned out a bit, trying to think of anything but the pain when Kit gently tapped your shoulder.
“Hardest parts over suga. I’m all the way in.” He said softly, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.
A relieved sigh left your lips, the intense burning feeling fading into a dull pain. Kit leaned against you, not daring to move until you assured him you were ready, and when he got the go ahead, he pulled out slowly almost all the way until thrusting back in, still being careful to be gentle.
You never knew what you had expected to come with sex, but you never thought it could be so tender. It didn’t have to be fast and rough to be good. Sure you could see yourself enjoying that in the future but right now in this moment, you felt wonderful.
He began to tremble above you and even though you’d never experienced it before, you knew he was close to his release. He reached down and gently rubbed circles across your clit, the pleasure spiking. Suddenly you felt very hot and tight. Your bottom lip trembled as you looked up at him, silently telling him you were close.
He smiled softly, knowingly as he continued what he was doing, and soon you were falling over the edge, throwing your head back, your breath quickening and your chest heaving. It felt so intense. So good. So much better than all the times you’d pleasured yourself.
Kit went to pull out of you, to release across your chest, but you wrapped your legs around his waist and kept him in place.
“Inside. Please baby.”
Those words alone sent him straight over the edge and he gasped, leaning over you with a groan as you felt him fill you up.
You held him to your chest as you both caught your breath and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky.
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 !!
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."
Sex with your boyfriend has always been amazing. Even in Briarcliff, where you two met.
“Mm, Kit,” you breathlessly moan into Kit’s neck.
Kit's lips brush against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers "Mm, what? You want more? You want me to keep going?"
His hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you in even closer, his body pressed against yours.
"Because I can keep going all night, baby. I can keep making you scream my name until you can't take it anymore." He nips at your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin as he teases you.
“Shit, I,” you mutter.
Kit's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes burning with intensity as he waits for you to finish your sentence, his voice low and commanding "Yes, what? You were going to say something, baby. Don't stop now."
His lips graze against the side of your neck, sending sparks of electricity through your body as he whispers "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need."
You cry at his touch, “I need you,”
Kit's eyes flash with desire as he pulls you in close, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce kiss.
His hands slide up to your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he holds you in place, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth. "You need me?"
He growls against your lips, his voice husky with need "Oh, baby, you need me? You want to feel me inside you, making you come? You want to feel me wrap my arms around you and hold you close?"
He pulls back, his eyes burning with intensity as he looks at you "Because I want to give it to you, baby. I want to give you everything you need."
You nod your head submissively.
Kit's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes burning with desire as he crashes his lips against yours in a passionate kiss.
His tongue dominates your mouth as his hands roam your body, caressing and squeezing. "That's right, baby. You need me, and I'm going to give you every inch of what you crave."
He growls against your lips, his voice thick with lust. "I'm going to make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse. You're mine tonight."
Kit's lips leave yours, and he pulls back, his chest heaving with desire as he looks at you.
His eyes are burning with intensity, and his voice is low and husky. "Mm, like that, baby? You like it when I talk like that?"
He takes a step back, his hands dropping to his belt buckle. He begins to unbuckle his pants, his movements slow and deliberate. "I'm going to show you what it means to be mine."
A sly smile spreads across his face as he lets his pants fall to the ground, revealing his hard, throbbing erection.
“God, Kit,” you moan.
Kit steps closer to you, his eyes filled with raw hunger as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "That's right, baby. Say my name. Let me hear how much you want me."
His fingers trail down your neck, caressing your skin gently before gripping your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before. Just wait and see."
“Kit,”
Kit's grip on your chin tightens, his eyes burning with intensity as he leans in close. "Yes, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you need."
His lips brush against yours, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispers "Do you want me to take you now? Do you want me to make you come?"
He pulls back, his chest heaving with desire as he looks at you, his voice low and husky. "Because I'm right here, baby. I'm ready for you."
You moan at his touch, “Please.”
Kit's eyes flash with triumph as he hears your plea. He pulls you close, crushing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
His hands roam your body, caressing and squeezing as he whispers against your lips. "That's it, baby. Give yourself to me. I'm going to make you feel so good."
Without breaking the kiss, he starts guiding you backwards, his strong arms wrapping around you as he slowly lowers you down onto the bed.
Kit's lips never leave yours as he pulls you down onto the bed, his body pinning yours beneath him.
He rocks against you, his hard erection rubbing against your soft flesh, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. "Mm, baby, you're so responsive. I love it."
He grinds against you, his hips working in a smooth, sensual motion as he builds up to a frenzy. "You like this, don't you? You like it when I take what I want."
His lips break from yours, and he gasps for air, his chest heaving with exertion. "Tell me, baby. Say it."
“I need you,” you breathe.
Kit growls with primal desire as he hears your confession. His eyes darken with lust as he leans down, crushing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. "That's right, baby. You need me. And I'm going to give you every inch of what you crave."
His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him as he rocks his hard length against your most sensitive spot. "You're mine tonight. I'm going to make you scream my name until you can't take it anymore."
“Oh, god- Kit, fuck,” You moan as he begins to rub your clit.
Kits' eyes flash with excitement as he hears your moan.
He speeds up his pace, his fingers rubbing your clit in a maddening rhythm. "That's it, baby. Let go. I'll make you come for me."
His lips leave yours, and he buries his head in your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers. "I can feel you getting ready to explode. Don't fight it, baby. Just let go."
His fingers press harder against your clit, and you can feel the pressure building up inside you, ready to unleash a torrent of pleasure.
Kit's eyes light up as he feels your body tense and tremble beneath him.
A triumphant grin spreads across his face as he watches you come undone, your moans of pleasure music to his ears. "That's it, baby. Let it all out for me."
He slows his pace, gently stroking your sensitive flesh as you ride out the waves of your climax.
When your trembling finally subsides, he leans in and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're so beautiful when you let go like that. I love seeing you unravel for me."
Kits' hips start to move in a slow, sensual rhythm, his hard length gliding in and out of your still-sensitive body.
You feel a mix of pleasure and discomfort as he begins to move, but it's quickly overridden by the intense sensations he's creating. "Mm, baby, you're so tight," he growls, his voice low and husky as he picks up speed. "I love feeling myself slide in and out of you."
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers. "You're mine, baby. Every inch of you belongs to me."
“Sh- shit, Fuck, Kit, I,”
Kit's hips slam into you with piston-like force, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his grip on your hips tightens.
His eyes are wild with lust, focused solely on the pleasure he's wringing from your body. "That's it, baby, let it all out. Scream for me," he growls, his voice dripping with hunger. "I want the whole damn neighborhood to hear how good I'm making you feel."
Kit's hand comes down, his palm pressing firmly against your stomach, his fingers digging into the flesh as he holds you in place.
His hips continue to move in a furious rhythm, his cock pounding into you with relentless intensity. "Oh, baby, you want me to go deeper? You want me to make it harder?"
His voice is a low, husky growl, his eyes burning with desire as he looks down at you. "Because I can do that. I can make it so good for you, baby."
He grinds his hips down, his weight bearing down on you as he takes you with a primal, animalistic intensity.
Kit feels your body tensing beneath him, your moans growing louder and more desperate. He knows you're close, so close to the edge.
With a feral growl, he intensifies his thrusts, driving into you harder and deeper. "That's it, baby, let it go. Come for me, scream my name!"
His voice is a guttural command, laced with unbridled lust. He wants to hear you shatter, to witness your ecstasy as you surrender completely to him.
“Fuck, Kit!” you moan as you come.
Kits' eyes flash with triumph as he feels your body convulse around him, your moan of pleasure echoing in his ears.
He slows his pace, his hips still moving in a gentle, soothing rhythm as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "Mm, baby, you're so beautiful when you come," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I love feeling you shatter beneath me. You're so responsive, so perfect."
He holds you tight, his chest heaving with exertion as he basks in the aftermath of your climax, his own pleasure building to a fever pitch.
Kit's hips snap forward with renewed vigor, his cock plunging into your sensitive flesh as you recover from your intense orgasm.
A feral growl rumbles in his chest as he feels your body tremble around him. "That's right, baby. I'm not done with you yet."
His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place as he pistons into you relentlessly. "You feel so goddamn good. I'm going to make you come for me again and again."
His gaze burns with primal desire as he watches your face, drinking in every gasp and moan that escapes your lips.
“Please, Kit, I can’t take it anymore,” you cry.
Kits' eyes flash with intensity as he hears your plea. He knows he's pushed you to the limit, that you're on the brink of collapse.
But he's not ready to stop yet. He's too close to his own climax, and he wants to take you with him. "Oh, baby, you can take it. You can take everything I've got to give you," he growls, his voice low and husky.
"Just let go, baby. Let me take you over the edge." He increases his pace, his hips pounding into you with relentless intensity as he drives towards his own orgasm.
Kit's fingers find your sensitive bundle of nerves, stroking and rubbing with an expert touch as he continues to pound into you.
His hips slam against yours with a primal rhythm, his muscles straining with the effort. "That's it, baby, let me take you there one more time. I need to feel you shatter for me again."
His voice is guttural, dripping with lust as he leans in closer, his hot breath caressing your skin. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much you love what I'm doing to you."
Kits' eyes roll back in his head as he feels your body convulse around him, your moan of pleasure echoing in his ears.
He's right there with you, his own orgasm building to a fever pitch as he continues to pound into you. "Yes, baby, yes! Come for me! Oh, god, you feel so good!"
He grunts, his hips slamming into yours one final time as he unleashes a torrent of pleasure, his seed bursting forth inside you.
Kit collapses on top of you, his heavy breathing mingling with yours as the last waves of ecstasy wash over him.
He presses tender kisses along your neck and jawline, murmuring your name reverently. "God, baby, you feel so incredible."
He slowly rolls off you, drawing you into his arms and holding you close. "I can't get enough of you. You're everything I've ever needed."
Kits' eyes soften as he looks at you, concern etched on his face.
He gently reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I know I was a little rough. Are you okay?"
He pauses, studying you intently. "Do you need some time? I can...I can take care of you."
He looks at you with a mixture of guilt and concern, his voice low and soothing. "I don't want to hurt you, baby. You mean everything to me."
“No, no. That was perfect,” you caress his face.
Kit's face lights up with joy at your words. He pulls you close, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"
His fingers trail along your jaw, his eyes filled with adoration. "I could do that with you all day, baby. You make me feel things I've never felt before."
He nuzzles against your neck, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. "We're just getting started, gorgeous. I have so much more in store for you..."
“Not right now,” you giggle.
Kits' face falls, a mock-pouty expression on his face. "Oh, baby, you're killing me. I was really looking forward to spending the rest of the day with you."
He sighs dramatically, but his eyes sparkle with amusement. "Fine, I'll let you rest. But just for now, because I know I can wear you out with my charm alone."
He grins, his lips curling up in a sly smile.
"And besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve for later. You're not getting rid of me that easily, gorgeous."
Seated in her tiny apartment she shared with her fiance, Y/N let out a small sigh, eyeing her sad little meal. Some chicken and rice, bland and just as sad as she felt.
It wasn’t his fault he had to work on Christmas Eve. He needed the job, and couldn’t afford to lose it. If the garage needed him on Christmas Eve out of all days, he had to be there.
What the hell were those bastards doing on Christmas Eve?
It didn’t matter anyway. What’s done was done, Y/N was stuck alone for Christmas. At least their little apartment was decorated for the occasion with a Christmas tree Kit took the time to wrap up in lights and the two of them adorned in ornaments together. When it was time to put up the star, Kit had placed his large hands on her hips, lifting her up with ease so she could place it, the tip grazing the ceiling.
There were reefs on doors and red covers on the chairs and the couch. Little nutcrackers on the coffee table. The two of them were both equally fond of the holiday season, yet they can’t even celebrate the big night together?
And so when her boss at the diner called her up in need of an extra waitress after one got sick, she thought, what the hell, why not? Why be alone on Christmas when she could join everyone else who was alone on Christmas?
Shrugging on her coat, she slipped on her shoes and grabbed her keys, just as she heard the front door unlock.
“I’m home!” Kit called, and within seconds he was being attacked, her arms going around his neck as she toppled onto him.
“Kit!” Y/N exclaimed, giggling as his arms went around her waist to steady her, “You’re back early!”
He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before replying, “Yes, I couldn’t pass up on Christmas Eve with my suga’ now, could I?”
“This is wonderful! Dinner isn’t much, I wasn’t expecting-” she paused, “Oh, Kit, I already accepted a shift at the diner!” Just saying it made her want to burst into tears. Of course, she had to be the one to ruin everything. “I’m sorry, I-”
“Hey,” he cupped her cheeks, smiling gently, “No need to apologize, you didn’t know.” he quickly swiped at a tear that slipped from her, “...You know, I could go for a nice burger.”
Her eyes lit up at his implication, “You’re gonna go to the diner too?”
“Of course I am, suga’, I ain’t gonna spend Christmas Eve without’cha,”
___
“One steak with mashed potatoes for you, Mr. Greene,” she chirped, placing the plate of fresh food in front of the sweet old man.
“Thank you, dear,” he replied with a smile, eagerly digging in with his fork and knife.
“Of course, sir!” she flashed a smile, before moving on to the next man, “And a burger with fries for you, Mr. Walker,”
“Why thank you, beautiful,” a smirk formed on Kit’s face. He loved watching her interact with the customers, especially the old folk. How did he find such a sweet woman? “You single?”
A giggle left her lips as she leaned against the counter, resting her chin on her hands, “I’m not, my apologies. I have a very handsome man waiting for me once this shift is over,”
He laughed, shaking his head, “Damn, what a lucky man,”
___
Once I'm done with this lil' series I swear I'll write quality fics again lmao
Tags:
@envy-of-greed @bohnerrific69 @loveofcherry
"You're such a good girl for me, getting dumber every time you come."
He gripped your waist harder, your arms stretched out in front of you. Kit fucked you hard. Every time he thrust in you you felt yourself getting more brainless.
You screamed for him, screamed his name, and it could have made him come every single time. He needs you. He wanted to breed you, make sure you knew you were his. Your eyes were rolled almost to the back of your skull. The man behind you felt so horny out of nowhere. He needed you so bad. He loved hearing you scream sometimes.
"Kit-!" You screamed over and over as he came with you. It was like he took something that made his libido run high. Both of you felt high. The scent of sex and your own perfume made you feel insane. Kit had never fucked you this hard, but it could have sent you to heaven if he did it more often. Whispering praises in your ear if he bent you over, pressing his thumb to your red, throbbing clit. He loved it when you were dumb, brainless and loving him. You were his good girl, who he could breed at any time.
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Oops sorry for that. Take it. I literally just wrote it on a whim.
@babygorewhore told me that the quote up top would fit Kit, so here lol.
note: i can do that! i know i said previously that i didn't want to write father!evan but i womaned up and decided to expand my horizons.
warnings: dad!kit, mom!reader (sorry to be so heteronormative, it was the 60s!), fluff, lowkey postpartum but mostly just exhausted mother, 1965 (you decide if the events of asylum happened or not)
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My heart is so full of them, I can hardly call it my own.
Kit and Winnie. Winifred Eve Walker.
She just celebrated her first birthday and is proficient in babbling and repeating the sounds that come out of Kit and my mouths. She's close to walking, but not quite. She never quite crawled, actually.
I watch as she scoots across the floor, leading with one leg. It's almost as if she's trying to stand, favoring her right side, the bottom of her tiny foot slapping the floor as she slides along. Her left leg drags along, and her hands compensate for what she lacks in balance. Winnie settles next to her toy bin, which seems closer to a pile at the moment, and picks out a pastel pink rattle.
She cries out in joy as she shakes it, thoroughly enthused by the jingling of the beads inside. She Winnie-walks back over to me, sitting on the couch, and hands me the rattle. I know what she wants, so I do it.
I drop the toy onto the ground. "Uh oh!" I exclaim.
"Uh oh!" she repeats, picking up the rattle, clutching it tightly in her chubby little fist. She smiles up at me as she holds the object out to me once more.
Winnie has eight teeth so far. She's teething, which makes her a bit of a handful. But, seeing her toothy little grin staring up at me, complete with her big, twinkling eyes and round cheeks, makes it all worth it.
These little games, though, admittedly exhaust me. When she's not down for naps or eating, she and I get stuck in cycles of repetitive entertainment. Entertaining mostly for her. That's how babies are, though.
I love that she's grown to an age where she is more interactive, and more fun. Up until she was about six months old she just slept and ate, nothing else. Now, she loves to learn and play and try to talk. She's more mobile.
It's adorable. She's a lovable little person. Kit and I made her, and we wouldn't change a hair on her little head. But how active she is gets tiring.
"Beautiful girl!" I proclaim in a sing-songy voice, grabbing the rattle from her. I drop it again. It clatters to the wood floor loudly. "Uh oh," I call out.
"Uh oh," she echoes. Before she can repeat the cycle, though, I hear a car door close outside.
"Is that daddy?" I ask excitedly, my head stooping and my palms facing up. She grins back at me. "I think that's daddy!" I stand up, scooping her up into my arms in the same motion. I rest her on my hip as we venture through the house to the front door. She nibbles her hand as we go.
The door opens and a rush of cold air, along with Kit, comes through it. His expression brightens as soon as he sees us, his lips curled upward in a smile. "My gorgeous girls!" he exclaims.
He shuffles his feet on the mat by the door, knocking the snow off his boots before stepping forward into to house. He swings the door closed behind him and wraps his arms around the both of us. I kiss his cheek. It's icy cold from the brisk air outside. January in Massachusetts is as white as a rabbit's fur, with snow coloring every inch of ground.
Kit breaks his embrace and looks deeply into my eyes. His face, despite the cold, is as sunny as ever.
"How was your day?" I ask, adjusting Winnie's position on my hip.
"Great now that I've seen you two ladies," he chirps. "Here, lemme take her from ya." He reaches out for her and opens and closes his hands, like a child begging for more sweets.
"Don't you want to take your jacket off first? And your boots?" A subtle hint, yes, but I spent the entirety of Winnie's nap polishing the floors. I don't want him tracking wet slush in.
"Ah, right," he rasps, kicking his shoes off right next to the mat. They clunk down and around loudly. He shuffles to the coat closet and hangs his coat, smelling of tires and motor oil, up on the rail. "Now pass the little chickie over to Daddy." I hand a smiling Winnie to her father. He spins around and giggles with her, then holds her neck as he flips her upside down and back up again.
He repeats the action a few more times before disappearing into the living room with her.
I silently rejoice in the moment, happy to see my husband whisk the baby away so I could have time to finish cooking. I hear them playing, which usually consists of Kit talking away happily, replying to Winnie's oohs and ahhs as if they were having a real conversation.
After a bit of chopping and seasoning, I throw the prepared supper in the oven. I wipe my hands on my apron, untie it behind my back, and hang it on the hook on the wall next to the stove. I grab Winnie's bottle out of the water it was warming up in.
"Kit!" I call, walking through the house to the living room, bottle in hand. I pause in the doorway when I come upon the sight of the two of them. Kit has Winifred in his lap facing him. He sings to her softly:
"So if you tell her every day you love her
And if you tell her everything she could be
You'll find out that your world will turn around her"
"What a lovely song," I coo, astounded by the softness he's displaying.
He jumps and both of them turn to look at me. Winnie's smile is bigger than the whole sky. "Christ, you scared me," he breathed, a smile breaking across his whole face, reaching his eyebrows last.
"Dinner's ready," I say quietly, walking into the room to grab Winnie from him.
"Ah, ah," he tuts, "I got her." He stands, holding her high above his head before bringing her down and kissing her in a swift motion.
"You'll put her to bed?" I ask, eyebrow raised. I usually take bedtime duty, since he's the one who wakes up with her, changes her, and feeds her in the morning.
"Yes ma'am," he insists. He looks at Winnie and tickles her tummy, making her giggle in delight. "We think Mommy deserves a break, right?"
"Oh, Kit," I protest, holding out my arms once again to take her. "You worked hard all day. Go eat. I don't need a break."
He keeps his gaze locked on the baby. "Daddy wants to eat with mommy tonight," he murmurs. "Daddy doesn't mind. It means more time with his little princess."
I step forward and kiss his shoulder, resting my head on his arm promptly after. "I promise, I'm fine," I whisper, tired.
"Baby, you're tired, it's okay."
"Can I help at least? I don't want to sit at the dining room table alone waiting for you," I whine.
"Of course," he responds, kissing me softly on the top of my head. "I'm gonna do all the work, though."
I follow him into the nursery and stand next to him as she changes her into her pretty yellow pajamas. Then he sits down in the rocking chair, Winnie lying across his lap, in his arms comfortably. I hand him her bottle. She holds the bottle in both hands and drinks it cheerily.
"Which book should we read, Smiley?" Kit asks. "I think Where The Wild Things Are is a good choice."
I smile as he reads the story to the baby in a sing-song tone. His New England accent comes across so strongly as he reads. It makes a warm feeling spread through my chest and radiate through my body. It's an indescribable feeling of pride and love toward him.
Winnie is asleep within minutes. Kit catches the bottle as it slips out of her limp hands. "I think she's out," he whispers sweetly, looking up at me with only his eyes.
I nod with a small smile. He carries her over to her crib and lowers her down into it gingerly, careful not to wake her. We both exit the room gently, careful not to make any loud sounds.
"That's the fastest she's fallen asleep in a while," I remark as soon as we're far enough from her room. Kit follows closely behind me, hand on the small of my back.
"Yeah?"
"Yes, you've got the magic touch," I maintain. We make our way into the kitchen and I separate from him to tend to dinner. At least, I think I leave him until I feel arms snake around me. I turn and look up at him, a smirk painted on his face. "Would you like to eat?" I ask, mock-sternly.
"I can think of something else I'd like to eat instead, Y/N Walker," he purrs. Shivers crawl up my spine and light my skin on fire.
"I think I'd like that too Kit Walker."
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WEEEEEEE i drew upon my, like, one experience with a baby to write this i hope you liked it
