Tawns of Fun

Imagine figuring out Dr. Thredson is Bloody Face, but he ends up making you trust him.

He wasn’t entirely sure how you put two and two together. It’s not like he encouraged any interaction with Kit. Oliver would ask you himself, after he was sure you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you.

Your relationship clearly wasn’t professional. At least, Thredson recognized he shouldn’t be so close to a resident of Briarcliff. He wasn’t sure you knew that... Well, he wasn’t going to underestimate you again.

Imagine Dr. Thredson being obsessed with you.

Thredson had started to feel annoyed around Kit Walker. Manipulating him into taking the fall for the murders should have been more fun than anything. But extracting a false confession from Kit was taking time away from you, his most needful patient. Briarcliff was only a hiccup on your way to him, Thredson kept telling himself. You weren’t going to stay there for long. That much he would make sure of. 

A doctor dating someone in his care was understandably frowned upon. But he knew nothing was wrong with you. He wasn’t even the right kind of doctor for you. It was just so unfortunate you two didn’t meet outside of Briarcliff. The most inappropriate aspect of your budding love was that he wasn’t able to introduce himself as Oliver, or impress you with what he did for a living.

But, in spite of the circumstances, you were impressed with him. And inspecting his mint bowl, your bare bott0m resting on a couch cushion.

“We’re going to need to get rid of this. Look into bone meal, will you? And the lampshade, and the-”

“Yes, dear,” he agreed, producing a rare interruption. You were rubbing your belly. “Morning sickness?”

“I felt the baby kick.”

Imagine being able to relate to Kit Walker.

If Briarcliff allowed you access to postal services, the love letters would disturb you more than the hate mail. And unfortunately, one fan of “your” work is closer than you know.

Unlike Kit, you’re definitely guilty, Dr. Thredson reasons. Because you’re the perfect partner for Bloody Face. It doesn’t occur to him hybristophilia might be blinding him to your innocence.

After a careful courtship, you’re secreted away to his home. Luring you into bed is as easy as Thredson suspected. While he leaves to answer a phone call, you’re told to lie down and get some sleep. But excitement for your new life makes that impossible at that moment. You sit up and stretch, a trickle of c/u/m spilling out. His c/u/m. You slip into the bathroom and check the trash. The condom...

It didn’t break.

Pressure in your bladder makes you realize you came to the right room, although overall you’re in the wrongest place.

You’re not sure what to say to Thredson. Pregnancy was on your mind, but that was for after your name got cleared. And the wedding. Maybe, you desperately cling to the thought, maybe Oliver wanted to use pregnancy as an excuse as to why he broke you out of Briarcliff. Some orderly took advantage and... Yes, yes! A realistic story. The psychiatrist probably just forgot he didn’t tell you. In the heat of the moment.

You look up and realize you’ve wandered into the living room. Which is a funny name, because that lampshade has someone’s nip/ples.

“______, you know you don’t have to cover yourself in front of me anymore.”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” Oliver caresses your back, fingers reaching for the bra’s hook and eye. So there’ll be three bare chests in the room. “Or/gasms make me have to... you know.”