Summary: Michael goes to see psychiatrist!reader because he wants to be better and stop his murdering urges and the as the sessions progress, he starts to fall in love with the reader.
Warning: RAPE, gore?, language
Word Count: 1927
@.kyliehorsegirl/tumblr
★★★★
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★★★★
Dr. Y/n Quinzel was the best psychiatrist out there. She worked in the infamous asylum Briarcliff Mental Institution. There was a lot of controversy with this institute. Several years before Y/n started her practice, there was brutal experimenting on the patients.
They never shut down the asylum after the discovery of all the accidents, but they purged all the old employees. Lana Winters had written a book on her experience at Briarcliff and the traumatic things that had occurred.
Y/n was not like your typical psychiatrist. She would give her patients small doses of degradation and praise. This method had seemed to work. Most of her patients made total 180* turns. She treated murderers, sociopaths, psychopaths and more.
Summer had ended in Massachusetts and fall was approaching, it was one of Y/n's favorite times of the year. The leaves had fallen, decorating the cobblestone. Her walk consisted of crunching leaves in her path. The dark grey walkways were painted in red and orange. The grass was a bright green in perfect contrast.
She pulled her black petticoat a little bit snugger as the autumn breeze snuck in her clothes giving a skeleton touch to her spine. Employees had to park outside of the compound. She waited at the tall iron gate, buzzing herself a ride. The gates opened as a security guard came to pick her up in a large white golf cart.
"Morning Dr. Quinzel." The security guard gave her a nod.
"Good morning Frankie." She smiled at him. All of the workers loved Y/n. She respected everyone who worked at Briarcliff. From the doctors, the guards, the janitors, the chefs, the secretaries. In turn everyone loved her. She was always so kind and thoughtful.
Her leather heels clicked against the concrete floor as she made her way to the main offices. She placed her petticoat on the hanger and replaced it with her white doctor's coat. A quick glimpse of her outfit would show a black and white checkered blouse the ruffled slightly at her chest. She buttoned up the coat covering her outfit.
She took her keys and unlocked her office, which was in the same room as some other doctor offices and secretary cubicles. She placed her purse in a locked drawer, bringing out her laptop and glasses. Her red and black stiletto nails clicked away at the computer keys, imputing some charting notes of previous patients, solidifying their files. Lost in her typing, she didn't notice one of the secretaries at her door. The woman knocked on the door a bit louder.
