#doctor/patient

[lipglossanon]

Calling Dr. Love

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For waterfalls04 who requested Dr. Leon eons ago 🫣 Thank you for your patience!! I hope you enjoy it! 💜

Doctor!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, doctor/patient, dubcon (reader’s into it!), flirting, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie; also a fun little Silent Hill cameo 🤭

Not proofread ✌️

Title from Calling Dr. Love by KISS

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You fiddle with your phone for the upteenth time in the short span of a few minutes. The signal is still stuck at one bar and the wifi is down according to the receptionist. Sighing, you grab one of the magazines left lying out on the small table near your chair and idly flip through it. 

It’s just a routine checkup, you think to yourself, nothing crazy. The anxiety of being in a doctor's office doesn’t abate at all, making your leg bounce as you skim through articles on housekeeping that do not hold your attention. 

“Ma’am, can you sign a couple of papers for me?” The receptionist calls out, a polite smile on her face. 

You glance down at her name tag before giving her a quick smile, “No problem, Lisa.”

You step up to the counter and she points out the few lines you need to initial before signing your name along with the date at the bottom. As you repeat the process on the other pages of paperwork, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. 

A tall and handsome man is leaning against the counter you're at; his attention is on the other receptionist as Lisa is still busy helping you out. Quickly giving the man, who you can only assume is a doctor due to his attire, a subtle once over, you feel a mild attraction flutter in your chest but push it away. 

“I think you’re my one o’clock, right?”

You feel as he shifts closer to you, hip still braced against the counter as he props his chin up on his palm, elbow seated on the surface next to your paperwork. He’s so close you catch a whiff of sharp coffee and notes of a cologne that makes you want to press your face in his chest. 

Glancing up, you make eye contact, gaze flitting around his sharp cheekbones and pouty lips before meeting his blue eyes once more. 

“Are you Dr. Kennedy?” 

He grins, eyes crinkling and making him look boyish and sweet, “That’s me! I’m new on staff and since your primary doctor is on vacation, I’ll be the one seeing you today.”

You bite your bottom lip out of nervousness and feel your heart thump harder when his eyes track the movement, pupils widening. Letting go of your lip, his eyes jump back up to yours. 

“Is that okay?” His eyes are darker than before and you can feel your palms sweat. 

“U-uh, yeah. That’s f-fine with me,” you finally stutter out, giving him a weak laugh. 

“Good,” his smile widens, “a little nervous?”

You nod, pen hovering over the line for your name, “Yeah, always a little nervous at the doctor’s office.”

He rubs a warm palm down your bicep, “No need to be, I promise you’re in good hands.”

Your nipples stiffen in your bra as his big hand pats your arm.

Dropping his arm back down, his fingers skim across your side leaving chill bumps in their wake. He crowds a little more into your space and your eyes dart around to the receptionists, but they’re completely oblivious to what’s happening.

You peek at him from the corner of your eye and see that he’s reading over your paperwork. 

“Since it’s just a routine checkup, we can start out in my office and if it seems you need a physical, we’ll move it into a room,” he murmurs at you, low voice making your clit throb in time with your heartbeat. 

“Sounds g-good,” you busy yourself by finishing the last of the signatures. 

He clears his throat, “I can take her back now, if that’s okay, Lisa?”

Lisa walks over and scans your paperwork before nodding, “Sounds good,” she gives you another smile, “you’re all squared away!”

You thank her and follow Leon, eyes taking note of his shoulder blades pressing through his white coat showcasing his broad back. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your wet pussy making you self conscious as Leon holds open his office door for you to enter first. 

You take in the sparse decorations and potted plant in the corner. His desk holds a computer and a day calendar with a cork board behind it all tacked with dozens of pages and sticky notes. 

He points to two stiff looking chairs in front of his desk.

“We’ll just have a little chat before we get started with taking your blood pressure and temperature and all that,” he smiles and you return it. 

“I find it helps put nervous patients at ease when you just talk before jumping right into the appointment.”

Your smile softens as you both take a seat, with him sitting next to you, “Thank you, Dr. Kennedy. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem,” he pats your bare leg from where your skirt rode up, fingers subtly digging into the skin.  

Your heart rate kicks up again, skin tingling as he keeps his hand on your leg, dangerously close to your thigh. 

“So how are you?” His thumb rubs back and forth, “didn’t have any problems coming in?”

“Um, good. I’m good! And n-no, even parking was easy this time,” you nervously giggle, cunt pulsing as his hand squeezes your leg. 

“Good, that’s good,” he smiles, “I know it can be a bitch finding somewhere close some days.”

You laugh weakly before biting your lip as his hand shifts upward a little more, long fingers gripping your thigh now. 

“You seem tense,” he murmurs, gaze locked on where his hand is rubbing your leg, “lot of tense muscles here.”

“Guess it’s just nerves,” you squeak out, body feeling hot as he massages your thigh.

“That just won’t do,” he grins at you, fingers digging in more roughly and making you whine, “poor thing, must feel so nice to get some attention on this muscle.”

You nod, pussy flooding your panties with slick to the point it’s leaking through the fabric. 

“Pull that skirt up,” he tells you firmly, “it’ll help me get a better look at the issue.”

With shaky hands, you grab the hem of your skirt and tug it up, embarrassment making your chest feel hot as your soaked panties come into view. 

“Oh, now I see,” he rumbles low in his chest, “I know exactly what the problem is.”

His hand leaves your thigh to swipe across the gusset of your panties, thumb digging into your wet slit. 

“Pussy needs some attention, huh,” he smirks, “is this the whole reason for your appointment?”

“No,” you whimper, parting your legs even further for his greedy fingers to run across your clothed cunt, “Dr. Kennedy, please.”

He groans, pushing your panties to the side to slide his fingers through the slick covering your pussy lips. His middle and ring finger slip into your cunt fluttering against your walls as he scissors you open. 

“Can barely pull my fingers out,” he teases, “little pussy just keeps sucking them right back in. You feeling that good, gorgeous?”

Panting, you nod your head, “F-feels really good.”

A low moan escapes your lips as he starts fucking his fingers in and out of your pussy, palm smacking against your clit just right and making your toes curl in their shoes. 

“Want me to stuff my cock in your cute pussy?” Leon leers at you, using his free hand to unbutton his slacks, “promise it’ll feel even better than my fingers.”

You whine when you see him pull his thick, uncut cock free from his underwear, mouth watering at the precum glistening on the tip. 

“Please,” you finally whisper, eyes dragging up his body to meet his heavy gaze, “wanna feel it.”

He slips his fingers free from your pussy leaving your hole clenching around nothing. 

“Get on the floor,” he demands, pulling your panties down, “gonna stuff this fat cunt like she deserves.”

You shift from the chair to the floor, kicking your shoes off and nearly getting your underwear off— leaving them to hang around one ankle while Leon moves himself between your thighs. 

He smacks his fat cock down onto your clit making your hips buck upwards. Teasingly, he presses the leaky tip into your pussy before pulling away to rub across your pussy lips. You lock your ankles behind his back and he chuckles, finally pressing his dick into your sopping wet cunt. 

“Oh you’re so tight,” he groans excitedly, “and wet. You really needed this, didn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” you whine, legs locked around his waist so tight he can only grind his cock inside your fluttering cunt, “needed it.”

“What did ya need?” His pupils have swallowed most of the blue in his eyes, “say it. Tell me you needed a fat cock to fuck your hot wet cunt.”

You moan, pussy throbbing as he ruts against that sweet spot at the front of your cunt, “Oh, I needed it. Need your fat cock in my pussy, Dr. Kennedy.”

He humps forward, burying his face in your neck with a moan as his cock kicks inside your clenching heat. 

“So good for me,” he grunts, hands digging into your hips, “gonna fill you up, cum all in this pretty pussy.”

Your nails scratch a hot trail down his back as you gasp. 

“You can’t,” you whimper out, cunt leaking more slick at the thought of this handsome man stuffing you with cum, “we shouldn’t.”

He laughs, slipping his hand down your hip until his thumb rubs across the hood of your clit. 

“You say that, but you squeezed me so deliciously when I mentioned it,” he rubs soft barely there circles on your pudgy bud, “trust me, I know what you need. I’m your doctor.”

You keen high in your throat, hips bucking up to work his cock even deeper into your spasming hole. 

“Thatta girl,” he coos, rocking his dick in and out of your messy cunt, “such a drippy little pussy,” he smirks, “needs a hot load to plug her up, make her feel all nice and full.”

You nod, shamelessly rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts, “Need it so bad, Doctor.”

“I know,” he simpers down at you, a mean little smile coming over his face, “think you’ll have to come in at least twice a week. Gotta keep that pussy in check.”

He pulls out completely making you moan at how empty your cunt feels without his thick cock splitting you open. Smacking the tip of his cock down on your pussy, he laughs at your whining. 

“Roll over, gonna fuck you like the dirty slut you are,” he helps you onto your hands and knees, slapping a palm down on your ass. 

He whistles to himself, “What a view. Y’know, you seem like a girl who’d like it doggy; a little slut who likes her hair pulled as her messy cunt gets pounded from the back.”

Your moan turns into a gasp as he bottoms out in one thrust, hips slapping against your ass while his balls smack your clit. 

“Oh that’s it,” he groans, hips gripping the fat of your ass tightly, “gonna pound your little pussy so hard, gorgeous. Gonna bust a nut all in this tight hole.”

You shudder and drop down onto your elbows, “S’good, so good.”

He doesn’t even give you time to adjust and starts up a rough tempo, cock pistoning in and out of your soaked pussy. His balls slap against your clit as wet sloppy sounds of him fucking your drippy hole fills his office. 

“Take it, take it,” he hisses under his breath, “god, such a fat and juicy pussy, baby, got me thinking about the next time we can do this.”

Drooling all over his office carpet, you weakly moan, body bouncing back against his rough thrusts. He reaches around and lightly taps his ring finger across your clit making you clench down hard around his dick. 

“Oh yeah,” he laughs, “squeeze me, soak my cock so I can nut in this pussy.”

Your pussy flutters and clenches rhythmically around his cock as he teases and plays with your clit until you’re cumming so hard you see fireworks behind your eyelids. He keeps rubbing your clit as your orgasm crests, keeping you at the peak of pleasure until your body is jittering underneath him. 

“Feels so good,” he pants, cock bullying in and out of your pussy, the sound of skin slapping getting rougher and louder, “keep clenching on me, I’m about to cum. Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s—“

He groans long and loud as he shoves his cock deep inside your pussy as you continue to milk his fat length. Shooting off hot rope after rope of cum, his sticky jizz paints your walls white until it’s slipping out alongside his throbbing dick. You feel his cock kick and spurt inside your used pussy until he finally pulls out with a growl. 

His long fingers pull your pussy open to watch as his spend drips from your clenching hole. 

“Mmm, now that’s hot,” he murmurs, waiting until more globs of cum ooze from your pussy to drip down your thighs.

He slips your panties up until it’s sitting snugly on your sticky pussy. Helping you up on shaky legs, he grins at your messy face. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up before we schedule a follow up appointment with Lisa, eh?”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #doctor!leon s kennedy #doctor!leon s kennedy smut #doctor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #doctor!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #fem!reader #doctor/patient #dubcon #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut

[polykinkytestsubject]

So pent up and horny right now. I need to be treated like a horny little puppy, just a useless little pet who's too in heat to think about anything but being fucked. My owner is concerned so they take me to a vet, who does a very thorough examination. They may even need to keep me overnight, to make sure they run every test they desire....

#doctor kink #nsft #doctor/patient #medfet #medical cnc #medical kink #objectify me #veterinary kink #vetplay #subby puppy

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dub con everything due to a/b/o biology, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty.

Steve's been developing too much of an attachment, he knows he has. But he might not have the self control to remain detached anymore.

Chapter 1: A Weekend in the Pens

Chapter 2: Holding It in

Chapter 3: A Catalyst

Chapter 4: Release Therapy

Chapter 5: Excited Catatonia with Aggression

Chapter 6: Inflation Therapy

Chapter 7: Pheromonal Oil Massage

Chapter 8: Sensory Reset Therapy

Chapter 9: Persistent Genital Arousal

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes #fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian stan #chris evans #stucky au #stucky smut #omega bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #a/b/o #a/b/o verse #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #medical kink #doctor/patient #older man younger boy #hurt/comfort #omorashi #forced wetting #dub con #non con #cognitive disability #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #alpha/omega

[kinkpositively]

Doctor/patient is a wonderful kink to have! Metfet kinks are lovely overall, and doctor/patient is tried-and-true. It’s a power dynamic that can manifest in many ways, from calm and comforting to intense and thrilling---however you like it, your kink is valid.

Whether you prefer to be the patient or the doctor, whether you use audio or written fiction or roleplay or porn or simply your own fantasy, whether you indulge on your own or engage in it with one or more partners, your kink is great and you should explore it however brings you pleasure.

#kink positivity #medfet #doctor/patient

[supergeek21]

It’s Kinktober Time!

Today’s prompt was “medical” so I finally finished up a long postponed sequel to one of my 2021 angstember vignettes. Please enjoy this rather crack-y sexy roleplay!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley #aziraphale #fanfiction #ineffable husbands #writers on tumblr #archive of our own #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable idiots #doctor/patient #roleplay #ineffable kinktober #lemon

[randomwritingguy]

Love in the Madhouse (Harley Quinn x Reader) Part 1

Love in the Madhouse Part 1

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The obnoxious, repetitive sound of my alarm blasts my eardrums as I slowly awake from my deep sleep. I sit up on my old, worn-down bed as I rub my eyes. Once I’m done, I check my digital clock and see the time written in red digits.

07:00

Two more hours till work. Good thing I live closely to my place of work.

Before I can even start to get ready for work, however, the phone that lies on the desk next to my bed starts vibrating frantically to the point where it starts slightly moving.

God dammit, not even five minutes.

I grab my phone and immediately answer the call without looking at the caller ID. I don’t need to. There is only one person who would call me this early. “Hey, Penny.”

“Hey, Y/N.” she responds, her voice gentle and soft. “I hope I’m not ringing up too early.”

I open my mouth to respond, only to being cut off by a yawn.

Penny chuckles at what she hears, finding my display of tiredness amusing. “I guess that answered my question.”

Yeah, no shit.

“You called up just to make fun of me?” I sarcastically respond back, rising from my bed to walk to the living room. It looks exactly as it did before I went to bed: full of papers scattered everywhere. The vague memory of me spilling my documents in my tired state washes over me as I groan internally. This is too much for a morning, especially for a working day.

“Can’t a girlfriend phone up their partner?” she teasingly responds.

If it was any other day I would have found this funny. This was not one of those days. Still, however, I persist.

“Yeah, yeah.” I reply. “At least I get to hear your voice before heading to work.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. You always have your way with words, dear.”

“If you say so.” I dryly reply, too tired to come up with any other response.

“You excited about tonight?”

Huh?

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re going to Pauli’s Diner after you finish work tonight, remember? We made plans about it a couple days ago. Don’t tell me you forgot about it…”

I detect a trace of sadness as she trails off. Shit. I completely forgot about that.

“No, no, of course not.” I lie to her with fake excitement. “I’m still tired from waking up. Brain is not fully working yet, you know?”

I hear a sigh of relief on the other end. “Good. I’ve been really excited about it. It’s going to be great!”

“Yeah…”

The conversation goes on for a few minutes, talking about simple mundane stuff. As she talks about something I couldn’t care less about, I look back at the clock. I’m planning on getting to work around 08:15-08:30 ish so I can have a break before I start. If there is time to get ready, it is now.

“Penny, I would love to talk more but I really need to get ready for work.”

“Okay, love you.“

“Love you too.”

I silently hang up and place them onto the kitchen counter.

Dammit.

Three words. Three simple words. A while ago they were full of genuine energy, happiness, and love. Nowadays it feels rehearsed.

I still remember when I first met Penny. We were both students at Gotham University. I was studying psychology and she was learning finance. We shouldn’t have met, really. The chances of seeing each other were so slim. And yet on a cold October day, when I was late to one of my lectures, a caffeine addicted student that was me accidentally ran right into her. One small talk and here we are. We’ve been dating for the past few years. The first couple years, it was amazing. I felt like I was made of gold. Now, somehow, that gold has begun to rust and corrode away. It’s not her fault. Really, it isn’t. It just…happened. Over time the relationship just felt…bland. I didn’t get excitement or thrill anymore. Most of time I have to fake it for Penny’s sake.

I should break up with her. I really should. And I plan too…just not yet.

I’m such a coward, I know that, but…Penny is one of the only few things that make me feel…alive anymore. Or, at least, close to it. Without her…the closest thing that could replicate the same effect as Penny was my job…

…at Arkham Asylum.

Speaking of which, I really should get ready for work.

  I arrive at 8:30 sharp as usual. Everything is the same as I left it last Friday. The same narrow, almost claustrophobic, corridors, the same large, dusty framed painting of the warden by the reception desk and the same old and tired doctors with all the hope they once had vanished. And that is not even mentioning the same variety of inmates or, like some guards like to describe them as, “pyschos”.

I haven’t worked here for too long. In fact, last week was the one-year anniversary of me being a psychiatrist at Arkham. I still remember my first day. Everything seemed so bright. My love for Penny burned as bright as the sun and my optimism and passion were through the roofs. I had so many ideas on how to cure Gotham’s rogues gallery, so many dreams of curing this city from the ilness that has plagued its roots for far too long.

Many doctors at Arkham merely scoffed or rolled their eyes at my naivety when I first arrived, claiming that I will soon lose them in this hellish place.

My love for Penny was lost. My passion? My determination to save this city? Absolutely not.

And that passion, that determination, led me to my first breakthrough:

My successful treatment of Gotham’s infamous Julian Day, once the criminal known as the Calendar Man.

It was tough, it was exhausting, and required a lot of patience of Mr Day telling me all the monstrous crimes he committed on certain holidays, but it was all worth it. Coincidentally, last week was also when Julian was released from Arkham Aslyum as a cured, sane man. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I’m just glad I cured a piece of evil that stenches the city.

The ill in Gotham can be cured. I was sure of it then and I am sure of it now, and Julian Day is living proof.

I walk into my office and casually placed my bag on the sofa and my files on my desk. It was decently sized and decently cleaned. I haven’t really decorated mine as much as others have. Some have tons of picture frames of their families and friends on their desks and called it a day. Others have nothing at all. As for me, I don’t have any pictures of my family. Not anymore at least. I haven’t spoken to my parents in years since I told them I wanted to be a psychiatrist rather than a gymnast like they wanted me to be so I could carry on the family tradition. I don’t care, though. Not anymore. All I have on my desk is a picture of me and Penny hanging out at an amusement park a year ago.

The thought brings my attention to that very same picture, lying there at the right corner of my desk. I haven’t moved it in so long that dust surrounds the frame. I carefully lift it up and examine it closely. In front of a giant Ferris wheel there is Penny, her beautiful black hair curled up into a ponytail and her bright blue eyes shining with excitement, grinning without a care in the world, and me, who shares that exact grin.

I remember that time. It was a good memory. It was before everything in this relationship went to shit, on my side anyway. I felt…alive.

“There’s my favourite doctor!”

The joyous voice snaps me out of my thoughts as I turn to look at its origin.

Of course, it was him. I recognise that carefree voice, that short black beard, the warm, honey-like eyes, and the messy brown hair from anywhere: my best friend, David.

“There’s my favourite security guard.” I joyously respond back. I place the picture frame back onto my desk, now long forgotten like it once was.

David and I met during my very first experience of a riot at Arkham when Basil Karlo was trying to escape. I would have been killed if he hadn’t intervened. Since then, we have been best friends.

The security guard walks up to my desk holding up a newspaper in his hands and plants it on it right in the centre.  “Sorry to tell you, bud, but your breakthrough with Calendar Man has been overshadowed.”

I glance at the headline of the paper. There, in big, bold, black letters it says: “BATMAN SAVES MAYOR FROM CLOWN PRINCE OF CRIME”

Why am I not surprised?

“Eh, it’s fine.” I tell him, shrugging as I do so. “I didn’t become a psychiatrist to be famous. I did it to save lives.”

My genuine tone makes David chuckle. “Always an optimist.”

I chuckle back. “Hey, that’s what you like about me.”

He hums in agreement. “That is true. Not many doctors tend to be optimistic after a while. The fact that you’re still hopeful is an achievement in itself.”

He’s right. I can’t name a single doctor who starts their day with a smile.

“I’m one of a kind.” I smartly tell him. “Anyway, when did that stuff with Joker and the Mayor happen?”

My question leaves David open mouthed, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor. “Are you for real? It happened last night!”

Last night?!

“What? Seriously?!” I tell him, as I glance back at the opening article. Yeah, it does say the attack happened last night.

“Yeah! It happened eleven at night, it was crazy! How did you miss it?!”

Ah…that explains it.

“I might have fallen asleep from utter exhaustion.” I told him, rubbing the back of my neck.

My friend sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I thought you said you were going to relax a bit after our last conversation.”

I nervously chuckle at that, a spark of guilt forming in my gut. “I know, David. I just can’t help myself. I really want to help the patients here.”

He looks back up at me and his face softens slightly. “Yeah, I know, but you can’t help anyone if you look like you’re about to pass out.”

I know he’s right. It’s the truth. But it’s hard to relax nowadays. It’s hard to stop doing one of the few things that make me feel more alive than ever.

Still, to ease his conscious, I relent. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll try to relax next time.”

My reassurance seems to bring my friend relief as the tension from his body is released. Before either of us could say another word, however, a monotone female voice erupts the intercoms.

“Can Dr. Y/N L/N please visit Professor Hugo Strange’s office.”

Shit, not Strange.

“Uh oh.” David speaks up, slight worry in his voice. “You got to visit Strange.”

I groan loudly, rubbing my hands down my cheeks dramatically. “Fuck sake. I hope he’s in a good mood today.”

Strange is quite possibly the most brilliant mind in this place, far smarter than all the doctors here. I heard he travelled around the world learning a variety of psychological methods to help in his therapy for his patients. He’s so good that he has even caught the eye of Warden Sharp. I was so excited to see him when I first got here, so happy to see a brilliant professor at last. When I finally met him, he didn’t even bat me an eye. He quickly walked past me, bumping shoulders in the process, and rudely commented that I looked unprofessional. Since then, I learned that Strange is certainly not the man I thought he was. He cares very little about his patients nor his co-workers. In all honesty it seems like he’s only a professor just so he could manipulate his way into becoming famous and having some level of power.

And now I have been summoned to his office. Terrific.

David pats me on the back and walks out of the room, muttering a sympathetic “Good luck.” Before he vanishes from view.

Okay, Y/N, calm down. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

  This is the first time I am ever in Professor Strange’s office and, quite frankly, it is just as I imagined. The atmosphere is cold and distant, much like the owner itself, with every piece of necessary equipment meticulously organised with not a single item out of place. The only picture that I can see on the dull, grey walls is Strange’s framed P.H.D degree.

A rough cough interrupts my thoughts as I turn to see the man of my thoughts himself, sitting behind his desk. His eyes behind the circular specs of glasses are just as chilling as the atmosphere in this room, his short brown beard so sharp it could cut you just by looking at it, and his pure white uniform resembling a mad scientist from a science fiction movie.

“Good morning, Doctor L/N.”

I gulp at the hard voice that emits from the man’s mouth. Its full of power and confidence. He has complete control of the situation.

“Good morning, Professor Strange.”  I reply back, trying to mimic his confidence.

Strange gestures the chair in front of the desk with right hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, have a seat.”

I slowly but surely make my way over there, each step feeling like a lifetime. When I finally sit down, I realise how close we are. His dead eyes have not blinked once.

“Now, Doctor L/N, I understand you have quite a busy schedule today so I will not waste our time.” Strange coldly states. “I am sure you are aware of last night’s incident.”

I nod slowly in confirmation. “Vaguely, Professor Strange. I only know that Batman saved the Mayor from the Joker from the newspaper.”

Apparently, my answer seemed to irritate the professor, who proceeds to huff in response. “Vaguely? Have you been living under a rock?”

Did he just ask that? That fucking ass-

-No. Stay calm, Y/N. Just stay calm.

I take a deep, long breath in an attempt to calm myself. Once I release it, I try to give the nicest answer possible. “I was quite tired last night from my work, so I had an early night. I only just heard about the incident a few short minutes ago.”

The professor hums in acknowledgement. “I see. So, I take it you are unaware that Harleen Quinzel is a patient once again at our establishment?”

Harleen Quinzel?! Harley Quinn is here?!

Surprisingly, I have not once seen her as a patient in the asylum. I heard from some of the guards and doctors that she and her “boyfriend” escaped during a riot over a year ago. But now she’s back?!

I force my face and tone of voice to remain neutral to disguise my shock. Whether I succeeded or not is unknown. “I was unaware of that news.”

His eyes still have not left my own. Not even once. “Of course. She was captured by the Batman during the attack at City Hall and was brought here. The Joker, on the other hand, escaped his grasp. From what I heard him and the GCPD are trying to locate him.”

I nod slowly at his words, trying to understand the point he’s making…but failing. “With all due respect, Professor Strange, but how does this relate to me?”

The man huffs again, clearly impatient and frustrated that I have not figured out whatever he’s planning. “Who are the patients you are currently treating, Doctor L/N?”

My patients? How are they connected? Shouldn’t he know that anyway?

“Waylon Jones, Edward Nashton, Victor Fries, and Harvey Dent.” I carefully list out.

“And I believe Mr. Dent is your more recent patient out of the rest after the leave of Julian Day, am I correct?” he continues.

“Yes, sir.” I reply.

“I see.” He simply says. “Well then, I am sure Mr Dent would not mind too much when he is transferred to another doctor.”

TRANSFERRED? ANOTHER DOCTOR?

“Transferred?!” I immediately respond, leaning forward in a flash. “Why is he being transferred to someone else? I voluntarily chose to tackle Mr Dent’s case, Professor Strange. Not many doctors around here have done that.”

My upset reaction does not move Strange in the slightest. In fact, I can see a smirk slowly forming on the left side of his lips. He’s enjoying this.

“Because, Doctor L/N, you will be focused on another patient. Specifically, Miss Quinzel.”

WHAT?!

HARLEY QUINN IS GOING TO BE MY PATIENT? HARLEY QUINN? THE WOMAN WHO BIT OFF A DOCTOR’S EAR THAT ONE TIME?! THE HARLEY QUINN WHO IS OFTEN TO SAID TO BE CRAZIER THAN THE JOKER?! THAT HARLEY QUINN?!

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think this is a wise decision.” I carefully explain to him, trying my hardest not to make him mad. “Miss Quinzel has shown to be quite dangerous around the doctors a lot of the time. I heard she even bit an ear off of one of them.”

Despite my caution, my words cause Strange to sneer violently. “And yet you have no problem having an animal as your patient.”

That fucking asshole. Of course, he brings Waylon into it.

“Waylon is not an animal.” I grunt out, my teeth grating as I say it. “He is a human being. A person, just like the rest of us.”

Strange then has the absolute audacity to sarcastically laugh at my statement as if I was telling a funny joke. “Don’t fool yourself, Croc is an animal. He is cannibalistic killer who hates humanity.”

I have been Waylon’s doctor for the past few months now. While it took a while to get through to him, he eventually warmed up to me when I actually treated him like a person unlike everyone else. From what he has told me about his past, I certainly don’t blame him for hating humanity.

“Waylon is learning.” I tell him. “Progress is slow, but it’s progress nonetheless.”

Strange rises from the desk and walks to a file cabinet at the left corner of the room. He opens one of the draws and quickly pulls out a file and places it on the desk right in front of me. In big, bold letters I see the name “DR. HARLEEN FRANCIS QUINZEL”

“If you have no problem “helping” that animal then I’m sure you will have no problem helping your new patient.”

No, no, no, this cannot be happening.

“But why me?”

“Why not you?” he counters. “You have only been employed at Arkham for a year and you managed to, quote on quote, “cure” one of Gotham’s infamous killers. Miss Quinzel is one of the most dangerous criminals in the city. Warden Sharp himself believes that you can get through to her for the benefit of Gotham.”

Ah…now I see what this is about.

“Is this about “the benefit of Gotham”…or is this about helping the Warden’s mayoral campaign?”

It’s no secret that Warden Sharp cares more about his reputation and ambitions to be mayor than his co-workers and patients, much like Strange himself (no wonder they get along). When Julian Day was released, Sharp received nothing but praise. If I cure Harley Quinn herself then he would win the election by a landslide.

My accusatory question makes Strange sneer yet again and proceeds to lean forward until our faces are inches apart, his eyes glaring daggers right into mine.

“Remember your place, Doctor L/N.” he spits out. “You are going to take this case and you are going to help Miss Quinzel, otherwise I recommend you should explore your career somewhere else. Are we clear?”

What?! He’s going to fire me if I don’t do this job?! He can’t do that! Right?

But then again…he does supervise all the other doctors. And I think there was that one time where he fired a doctor who couldn’t meet his absurd standards…

He’s going to actually fire me if I don’t do this job, huh? After that massive breakthrough I accomplished, I’m still a disposable asset to him? To the Warden who would no doubt listen to his favourite doctor?!

FUCK!

“Crystal.” I reply through gritted teeth, my anger evident.

My eventually compliance brings a smug smile on Strange’s lips, pleased by my reaction. “I am glad we came to an understanding, Doctor L/N. You’re first session with Miss Quinzel is tomorrow morning at 10:00am. That will give you plenty of time for you to have a look at her file. Good day.”

I slowly rise from my chair and grab the file, my eyes never leaving his. My heated gaze is an inch of my boiling anger, its intensity rising every damn second I’m in his office.

“Good day, Professor Strange.”

I walk back to my office, every step feeling like a lifetime, as I realise the reality of my situation.

That bastard! That fucking bastard! He thinks can do this to me?!

“Hey, there you are!”

I look up and see David approaching me, a concerned look written all across his features. “What’s wrong?”

I release a long, painfully heavy sigh as I give him my blunt answer.

“Harley Quinn is going to be my new fucking patient.”

#harley quinn #harleenfrancesquinzel #harleen quinzel #harleen quinn #original character #dc #dc comics #batman #joker #hugo strange #quincy sharp #arkham asylum #doctor/patient #reader #reader insert #x reader #dc x reader #dc x y/n #Self Insert #secret relationship #fall in love #forbidden romance #harvey dent #two-face #edward nashton #riddler #waylon jones #killer croc #victor fries #victor freeze

[growingimagination]

You've developed a "perfume" that increases female body mass, and decide to test it on the fat phobic women in your life. You start with your thin, shallow doctor. While she's blasting you about your weight, you notice that her trim stomach is getting larger, straining and poking from her tight shirt. She ultimately realises and is horrified as she starts to balloon there and then.

It’s so satisfying to watch her blow up after all her berating and taunting about my own obesity. Seeing her once lithe body soften and bloat, ripping her clothes and leaving her in the tatters of her now I’ll fitting clothes. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taunting her. Poking her fat belly, gleefully watching it wobble and droop past her thighs. Who’s the fatty now, Doc?

#consept #doctor/patient

[polykinkytestsubject]

Had a dermatologist appointment today for some acne on my underboob area. Gives me good fuel for fantasizing about my boyfriend as a hot doctor. Instead of being chaste and professional, he could grab and grope my breasts as I try to stifle my moans. Taking handfuls of my breast and pulling and tugging at it, working his way to the nipples which he pinches tightly. I'd moan like the desperate whore I am and he'd laugh condescendingly before continuing to grope at my exposed body.

#doctor kink #nsft #doctor/patient #medfet #medical cnc #medical kink #surgery kink #bd/sm blog #bd!sm #lgbt nsft

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 4608

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, enemas, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30s), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 9: Persistent Genital Arousal

Previously:

This may be (and hopefully is) Bucky's last day as a Hydra patient, but that doesn't mean he won't have some group classes and therapies left to attend with the other boys in his cohort that afternoon and evening. Steve will just have to find a way to fill his own time, leave Bucky to his schedule, and hang in there while he gets the ball rolling to secure Bucky's release into his custody.

That afternoon, Steve completes a plethora of paperwork. He submits his recommendation for Bucky’s care, fills out a formal application for custody, and hands in his letter of resignation to Raynor.

He’s completely transparent with her about his intentions, and Christina isn’t just fair in her response: she seems downright pleased. She does call him a traitor for leaving Hydra, but she’s smirking when she says it, so Steve knows he’ll still be getting a stellar reference from her.

He is officially quitting, but Bucky’s still a patient on-ward—with all the services afforded one—for at least the next twenty-four hours. So to avoid interrupting his scheduled therapies and groups, Steve tries to keep himself busy, closing out his cases and saying goodbye to some of his more friendly coworkers. Hydra Sanatorium might not be the nicest or the most well-funded place, but for a county-run institution it’s always done the best it can with what it has for the people who come through its halls. Lord knows Steve has. After five years of working there, doing his best to help the people that he could, Steve hopes he made some sort of a difference. In one case, at least, he knows he has.

Later in the day, he goes looking for Bucky and finds him with the rest of his cohort in the soft room. A lot of the boys are napping, the rest of them engaged in various stimming activities. Steve doesn’t immediately spot Bucky, but the room attendant points him towards one of the nesting pods. When Steve pokes his head through the little circular opening into the cave-like space, sure enough there his boy is: nestled amongst an impressive collection of blankets, throws and pillows.

Inside it smells heavenly, Bucky’s scent built up in the air. All sexually mature omegas experience something called persistent genital arousal, or PGA. It can be more debilitating for some, and it’s definitely more intense at certain points of their cycles, but in general Steve’s heard it described as a low-level thrum of arousal—like what one might feel from touching themselves idly from over their underwear while watching mediocre porn. Essentially, omegas really do always have sex on the brain.

The resultant smell they give off is, of course, one easy identifying marker for any omega out in public, and Bucky is no exception. The nesting pod is already thick with his scent, sweet and cloying, and Steve finds himself breathing in deeply to get more of it as he crawls inside. He smiles when Bucky’s sleepy eyes peek open and register his presence. The boy is beautiful. “Hey,” Steve murmurs.

Bucky lets loose a huge yawn and stretches with a lazy smile, his hair all floofed in different directions and his eyes nothing but puffy, squinty slits. “Stteeeve,” he hums, reaching for him with grabby hands. “Mmm. C’mere.”

How could he ever resist? Steve crawls over and settles next to him, pulling their bodies close together. “Hey you.”

Bucky’s already purring as he wriggles up against him. “Mmm. Hi.” He shoves his face into Steve’s chest and rubs his cheek against his pec, scenting him. “I took’a nap.”

“I can see that.” Steve’s mood is already in the stratosphere, because he’s suffused with Bucky’s scent: happy, safe, content—and yes, mildly aroused—omega. It’s infectious, making Steve’s body respond with all of those same feelings and more. There’s nowhere he’d rather be than right here, tucked into a tiny, warm nesting space with his omega. 

“His” omega, because Steve’s already started thinking of him that way. The transition feels almost seamless, feels natural, like maybe Bucky was his long before he knew it. He rumbles in his chest to match the boy’s purr and holds him close. “Missed you,” he murmurs, speaking against the softness of his hair. “How’s your day been?”

They’ve only been apart for a few hours, but after the intensity of their morning together, Steve hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Bucky’s wellbeing all day, even though he knows he’d left him in a good place, mentally. He’d made sure to bring him down from the high of their sensory session, had tenderly changed him and dressed him in warm, soft clothes, checked that his body’s lingering confusion from the therapy wasn’t anything that was going to cause him discomfort or distress during the day. He’d personally escorted him to his life skills group, kissing him on the cheek and promising to find him later, even watching from the doorway for a few long minutes until he could be certain that Bucky was relaxed and taking to the company of others well.

Now, in the safe confines of the nest, Steve kisses his hair again. “Good?”

Bucky does a happy little wiggle. “Mmm, good,” he mumbles, still seeking contact through the way he rubs himself against Steve’s body. “Missed you.”

It’s like he can’t get close enough, like he’s stubbornly trying to dig himself a space inside of Steve. It’s adorable. Steve smiles and rubs his back. “Me too, Honey. I’ve been getting a lot of things sorted out, so that I can take care of you after today. If you want.”

Bucky peeks up at him. “‘If I want?’”

“Yeah.” He knows that this is a talk they need to have, now that Bucky’s sober and fully back in his head. Steve doesn’t think there’s a high chance that Bucky’s going to change his mind, but they still have to discuss it. Because Steve would be a bad person—and a garbage Alpha support—if he didn’t give him the chance to decide for himself now.

And he’s going to have to tell Bucky about the castration issue. As much as Steve hates it, he can’t deny the sheer medical facts. It’ll help Bucky. His body produces too much testosterone as it is, his testes given too much time to develop before he finally presented. They’ve always known that the elevated hormones are part of what contributes to Bucky’s aggression and his struggles. Steve takes a deep breath and forces composure into his voice. “So, my boss asked me to put in my recommendation for you.”

“Recommendation for what?”

“Um, since your folks signed over custody, the state is in charge of you now until you turn twenty-five. That is, unless you find an alpha guardian to take care of you in a personal capacity. But you know, Hydra isn’t really … it’s more of an acute care facility, right? So even if you didn’t have an Alpha, you’d still have to go somewhere else, like a group home or a treatment facility that’s geared toward longer term stays. My boss asked me to submit my assessment of what your needs are and where you should go. It’s called an ongoing care plan.”

In his arms, Bucky tenses up. “My ongoing care?” he repeats, uncertain.

“Yeah Honey.” Steve tries to smile reassuringly. “There are lots of places where you could go to live other than with me, if you wanted. Nice places.”

Bucky’s face crumples in distress and he keens lowly. “But I … I mean, I thought …” His lip trembles. “You changed your mind? Don’t you want me?”

“What?” Steve’s heart sinks at the way Bucky’s looking at him—as if he’s just revoked a promise Bucky had been counting on. “Oh, Honey,” he mourns, pulling him in close again. He cradles his head and kisses over his hair in apology. “No, no bub. I do want you. I was just trying to be fair and give you all of your options. I didn’t want you to feel obligated. Didn’t want you to feel like you had to make that choice to go with me.”

It’s immediately obvious that his words calm Bucky down. The scent of distress dissipates as quickly as it had formed, and their dimly lit nesting pod is once again filled with nothing but cozy, happy omega pheromones. Bucky butts his head into Steve’s chest and grumbles at him for having scared him. “I always want to go with you, Steve. I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

Steve strokes his back. “Okay, okay. I understand.” His hands dip under the soft fabric of Bucky’s top, tracing up the vertebrae of his spine. It feels good to have the connection of their naked skin again. Steve hums and flushes, aware of his cock having a vague but growing interest. It’s all chubbed up in his briefs, tingling with a low level of arousal. And even though he has little intention of doing anything about it right now, it’s still nice to feel when he’s close to Bucky like this. He turns in towards him a little more, pressing him back and down into the nest with his bodyweight. The boy’s legs part for him on instinct and Steve hums, pleased. He slots his thigh between Bucky’s legs and tucks his face into his neck. “I just want to make you happy, Buck,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, or like you have to do anything other than what you really want. And if it takes you time to figure that out, then you’re allowed to take your time.”

“Nooo, Steeeve. I want you to be my Alpha. I don’t need to take time. S’stupid.”

Steve scoffs fondly. “Oh yeah?” He searches out the slight swell of Bucky’s bonding glands beneath the skin, closes his lips over the spot, and sucks. Bucky gives a surprised little ‘meep!’ of a sound, then pretty much melts full-body into the blankets. Steve chuckles. “There’s a lot that comes with that, you know. Having an Alpha you’re bonded to is different than just what we do here.”

“Mmm. Yeah. Like you said before, in the bathroom when my tummy was full. You said you could be my for-real Alpha.”

Steve kisses where he’d sucked, the spot now pinked and swollen. “Do you know what that means?” he whispers. “To have a for-real Alpha?” Bucky shivers pleasantly in response to the question, but Steve’s not just asking to get him worked up over it. “Buck,” he prods gently. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Means you’d be in charge a’ me,” Bucky sighs, his scent shifting as he grows more aroused. Beneath Steve, he squirms purposefully against the weight of his body. “I’d live with you, right?”

“Yeah. You’d come live with me and I’d be in charge of you.” Steve nuzzles against him, not missing the way that Bucky’s breath catches in a tiny little sound of pleasure. “Hey now, you might not always like that.” He playfully nips his skin. “There might be times when you’re mad as a hornet at me. That won't change anything. I’ll still be your Alpha. You’ll still have to listen.”

“... Could I still call you Daddy?”

Steve groans and turns his face away from Bucky's neck while the omega giggles at his reaction. “Yeah, Buck. You could.”

“Mmm, and you’ll still call me bub?” he asks, looking up with shining eyes and slightly flushed cheeks. “I um … I kinda always liked that you called me that. Even back when I was new and mean to you and stuff.”

Steve smiles tenderly at him. “I know, bub. That’s why I always did.” He kisses him softly, just once, on the lips. The first time he’s ever let himself do so.

Bucky’s wide-eyed by the time Steve pulls back, looking like a whole new world of possibilities has just been opened up to him. “Oh, man,” he breathes. “Do we get to have sex whenever we want?”

Steve laughs, taken aback. “Buck,” he scolds, but he’s already dipping back down to kiss him again. “Yes. Though I do have to keep a day job, so you can’t go full-on nymphomaniac on me.” Bucky whines and Steve kisses back down to his neck and seals his lips over his tender glands to suck some more. “Mmm, you’re swollen here, Honey,” he murmurs, kissing the spot, thinking that he’ll have to check the kid’s chart to see if he’s nearing estrus. It’d make sense, given how reactive he’s been lately. And, oh god, they’ll definitely need birth control. Steve would love to breed Bucky up, but that’s not something they should take lightly. It’s too soon to pup him, not when so much else is in flux, and Steve still needs to tackle the castration issue with him. There’s a lot to be done. Everything is changing. Steve sucks hard on his glands in one, long pull.

“Oohh,” Bucky moans, both hands coming up to run through Steve’s hair. “Oh, S-steve. Mmm. That feels so good.” He hitches his leg up higher on Steve’s hip, rocking against him, and Steve indulges him by driving his thigh forward to give him more firmness to grind on. Bucky whimpers and jerks. “Oh!”

“Mm hm.” Steve gently scrapes his teeth over the swollen spot on his neck. “I’ll need to bond you, if you’re living in my household long term.”

Bucky whimpers and nods, hips shoving up harder at the feeling of the alpha’s mouth on his glands. “Okay,” he gasps. “Yeah, Steve, do it. I'm ready.” His fingers dig into Steve’s shoulders and he cranes his head further to the side, presenting himself for a bite.

Steve chuckles, the sound morphing into a groan at the end as he denies himself and moves his face away. “Mmm. Not right now, silly. You need to be in heat for that to stick.” He gives him a peck on the lips. “Besides, it’s supposed to be something special.”

“Special?”

“Mm hm.” It kind of breaks Steve’s heart that Bucky doesn’t know this, though he supposes the kid couldn’t possibly have had many positive exposures to A/o relationships, growing up with the family he did. Steve kisses him again, explaining, “We’ll make it nice. Relaxing. Bonding is something special we’ll do in private.” They may currently be sequestered in this dark little space, but Steve sure doesn’t count a communal nesting pod in a state-run Sanatorium to be the appropriate place for such an important, intimate act.

He crawls off of Bucky and moves over to the side, sitting up in the mounds of soft nesting materials with his back against the pod’s wall. “C’mere.”

Bucky happily crawls over to sit in his lap. He straddles him, and Steve’s hands settle at his hips. Steve smiles at the bright teal clothes the kid is wearing now. After their sensory session that morning, he’d helped Bucky to get changed, and teal pants with a tangerine top was what the omega had wanted to wear. “All these years of navy blue,” Steve teases. “And it was just you being stubborn, huh?”

Bucky huffs and squirms, but he doesn’t deny it. “I always liked the colorful ones. I just never picked ‘em because I … I didn’t want to be this way,” he admits softly, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Didn’t want to be just another omega. Dumb and drooling in my rainbow patterned sweatsuits.”

“Bucky,” Steve chides. “That’s not nice. The other boys on-ward don’t deserve that kind of talk, do they? ”

Bucky flushes and looks away. “No,” he mumbles. “M’sorry. Didn’t mean it.”

Steve sighs. Just because Bucky wants to be with him doesn’t mean that the kid’s suddenly going to be well-adjusted. He's got so much internalized omegaphobia from being raised by his asshole parents, it isn't even funny. Steve gives his waist a squeeze and tells him, “Hey: you’re still going to have to go to some therapy, bub. I hope you realize that. Just because you’re leaving here doesn’t mean there won’t be rules and discipline. It doesn’t mean you don’t still have issues you need to work on.”

Bucky grumps about that a little, but eventually he nods his head in understanding. “What rules?” he asks shyly. “‘Discipline’?”

“Mmhm. That mean consequences if you act up. I’ll never be harsh with you, Honey, but being someone’s Alpha also means correcting their misbehavior.”

“Like … like spanking?”

“It could be, yeah.” Steve personally believes in gentle domestic discipline for omegas, so long as it’s administered fairly. He watches Bucky’s reaction carefully. “How does that make you feel, hm? If you knew you might get spanked if you did wrong?”

Bucky squirms a little in his lap before he’ll admit, “I dunno. Maybe embarrassed but … kinda nice, too.”

Steve tilts his head to try and catch Bucky’s eyes. “Nice?” he prods.

“Yeah. Kinda.” Bucky pouts and shrugs. “I dunno. I guess it just, um … it makes it seem like you care about me. Like you’re enjoying takin’ care of me.”

Steve’s heart warms, and he kisses Bucky’s forehead. “I do, baby. I care about you a whole lot, okay?”

“Okay.” Bucky sits there thinking it over, sucking his lip into his mouth and releasing it repeatedly. “What are the rules gonna be?”

“Oh, well … I don't know them all yet, but we'll figure it out. Just be good in general, I guess. Don’t make messes, don’t be rude to people, listen to what I tell you to do. That sort of stuff. My place is in Flatbush, not too far from here. You’ll have to be good, stay there when I go to work. I’m looking at changing jobs, so we might have some time together to start off at first, but then you’ll need to mind yourself when I’m away.”

"I'll be good," Bucky promises, sounding adorably determined. It makes Steve smile.

"I know, bub." He strokes the side of Bucky’s head, running his fingers through the soft curls that he’s come to love so much. “We’ll make you an area in the apartment to nest up real nice, just the way you like it. And I can get some stimming tools if you need ‘em, for during the day. I don’t want to see you ignoring your needs like you have been.” At Bucky’s hips, he digs his fingers in meaningfully, crinkling the plastic of the diaper beneath. “And these,” he says, arching a knowing eyebrow when Bucky peeks up at him. “You still need to wear them.”

Bucky looks mortified, but he does eventually give a reluctant nod. “I know,” he grumbles. “I wasn’t gonna argue about it.”

“Oh really?”

“Mm mn.” He’s blushing and avoidant, bites his lip and tries to wiggle away, but stills when Steve holds fast. He sighs. “I mean I guess I don’t hate ‘em so much.”

“No?”

“Mmn. Not … not when it’s just in private,” he admits. “Sometimes they even make me feel kinda, I dunno, kinda safe. … And when you take care of me with ‘em. That part feels really good.”

Jesus. Steve grips him harder and rumbles deep in his chest, praising him for his honesty. “That’s good, Honey. That’s what they’re for.”

Bucky’s physical level of need for the diapers isn’t actually all that high. He has the same small, spastic bladder that most omegas do, and he suffers from the typical pattern of stress incontinence. Most of his wetting occurs when he’s upset, aroused, or asleep. He could feasibly attempt daily life without them, though accidents would happen. But beyond the practical, it’s the emotional impact of wetting that’s so huge for someone like Bucky. That’s why consistent diapering has always been part of his therapeutic program at Hydra. It’s one routine that Steve intends to maintain once he’s got Bucky home and living with him. “It’s nothing to be worried over,” he reminds gently. “Remember what we talked about?”

Bucky sniffles and nods. “... S’normal,” he recites, voice tiny. “Lots of omegas wear ‘em.”

“That’s right,” Steve praises. “And Alphas don’t care. We like taking care of you. We like seeing you feeling safe, and knowing when it feels good for you.” He sees the color rise in Bucky’s cheeks and hums knowingly. “It’s okay when you enjoy the feeling, bub. Like how you did this morning? That’s totally okay.” Bucky whines and squirms a little, and Steve shushes him. “Hey now: I mean it.”

He uses his grip on Bucky’s hips to rock him in his lap a little, and Bucky squeaks and grabs onto his shoulders, pushing into the motion reactively before he can shame himself out of it. Steve hums, pleased. He leans in and takes Bucky's mouth in another, coaxing kiss. That seems to be the key to disarming the boy. He moans and gives another uninhibited roll of his hips. He keeps going, grinding against Steve’s crotch and panting quietly.

Steve smiles and holds him while he rocks. Ever since he ducked into the nest, he’s been able to smell the general level of arousal that Bucky always carries with him. But now it’s heavier, the distinct scent of new slick and a more urgent sort of need coming to the forefront. All Steve’s talk of discipline and acceptance and care has gotten Bucky worked up. He hums encouragingly as the omega stims himself against his lap. “Aw, Sweetie. There you go. That feel good?”

“Ah, uh huh,” Bucky pants quietly, eyes going a little muzzy as he starts to lose focus. “Oh, Steve, ff-feels good, nnngh …”

“Good. That’s all I want, honey. Just want you to be happy and feel so good. Don’t need to worry about a thing, okay? Cause I’m your Alpha and I like you just like this. Rocking in my lap, doing what feels nice, just being a sweet n’ happy omega for me.”

Bucky chirps in a way that he rarely does, his hips juddering forward hard. “Oh! Steve I … I have to …” He squeaks and tosses forward, burying his face in Steve’s neck and whining plaintively.

Steve tuts and wraps his arms around him, still guiding him in the rocking motion. “What’s up, bub, huh? You have to go?”

Bucky nods fast against his shoulder. “Nnn! But, but …” He shakes his head back and forth, trying to fight it. “Nngh …”

“Okay, okay Honey. You see? This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Steve wraps his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and grabs him in a firm scruff. He slides it up into his hair and pulls, using his grip to guide him back a little. Bucky yelps and meets him with wide eyes. “Shhhh,” Steve hushes, shoving his other hand down inside the front of Bucky’s pants. Bucky’s eyes go even wider. “It’s okay, bub,” he soothes, hand cupping the bulk of the padding and rubbing. “I know you just don’t get it. And this is me showin’ you. Cause I’m gonna keep you right here, and I’m not moving my hand until you let go for me.”

Really, he’s sure he’ll have Bucky naked and straight up wetting in the middle of sex in the very near future, but for now this’ll do. They are still in the hospital, after all, and this is still a communal nesting pod they’re in. If nothing else, Steve knows that the orderlies would not appreciate the mess.

Bucky gulps in a huge shaky breath and nods frantically, tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes as he gets overwhelmed. “Okay, okay,” he pants, grabbing onto Steve’s shoulders fiercely while his squirming gets frantic. “Oh god, S-ssteve …”

Steve kisses his forehead, murmuring non stop praise and love at him. Finally, Bucky tenses up and goes stock still. “Theere it is,” Steve coaxes, jostling his hand as he feels the warmth start to spread. Bucky moans and loses control completely, going limp as a noodle against Steve’s front and panting as he loses control. “Good boy.” Steve keeps murmuring it against his skin, giving pulses on the swollen crotch of the diaper with one hand and petting up and down his back with the other. “Good boy. That’s my good boy, Bucky. So good.”

Bucky doesn’t go all embarrassed, after. He stays a little dazed, in his head, chirping and humming at Steve when he encourages him to come out of the nest. They walk together to the bathroom, and Bucky does speak on and off when prompted; little 'yeah's and 'no's' and ‘okay’s. So he’s not quite non-verbal, and he’s definitely not in a fugue or a fit of any sort. No. He’s just a soft, contented, aroused ball of very happy omega.

In the bathroom on the changing bed, Steve is hardly surprised to find a pool of slick and a chubbed up little cock underneath the diaper. “Would you look at that,” he chuckles, going about cleaning him up. Bucky starts to whimper afterwards as he’s lying there, clean but exposed and untouched. “Please,” he begs, proving that he can, in fact, speak. “Please Steve?”

“Of course, Honey.” He wasn’t planning on denying him, poor thing. Steve smooths his hands over Bucky’s inner thighs, right up to the crease of his groin. He brushes his fingers over his half hard penis, back and forth a few times, just teasing it lightly. “How do you want me to make you cum?” he asks, only anticipating that Bucky will either ask him to touch his cocklet or else use penetration. He is not prepared for the kid’s breathless request of,

“Suck me, please.”

He freezes, taken aback. Oral sex—giving or receiving—is not permitted between Alpha Supports and their patients on the ward. Steve’s not precisely sure why, when digital and device-aided penetration is done every single day, but at some point in history, some guy writing the rules drew the line at oral. Anything that could be easily twisted to gratify the Alpha support rather than the omega patient is strictly forbidden. Steve has actually never given head to an omega before—patient or otherwise.

But he’s suddenly, achingly hard at the thought of doing so. “Oh, Honey ...” he hedges. “I don't know if ...” He grimaces at the pleading look on Bucky’s face, the anxious, wanting pinch in his brow, and finds himself throwing all his reservations aside. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s been professional long enough. Bucky’s going to be his by this time tomorrow, anyways. “Okay, Baby,” he says, giving in and rubbing over the boy’s belly with one hand. “Okay. You want that? Want to feel Daddy’s mouth on your sweet prick?”

Bucky keens and nods, “Yeah, please.”

“You ask so sweet,” Steve praises, sinking down his body, trailing kisses from his neck to his chest, down to his belly and the base of the sweet little cocklet he’s got between his legs. Steve tells him how pretty it is as he kisses it, mouthing over the softness. It’s only half hard, never really getting rigid, but it's still more to play with than the average omega has. Steve pulls him into his mouth and sucks until he gets an orgasm out of him. Bucky shudders hugely, his little prick squirting a tiny bit of useless seminal fluid, but nothing more. Steve pulls off, rubbing his inner thighs soothingly as he comes down from it. “Good?” he asks.

Bucky shudders and nods, smiling dreamily. “Thank you, Alpha,” he breathes. “We can do that all the time?”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, Honey. There’s nothing off limits anymore once I take you home with me. You can touch me and ask me to touch you any way you like. Whatever you’re curious about.” Steve is well aware that, outside of his treatment on-ward, Bucky is very sexually inexperienced. There’ll be a lot of firsts, once Steve brings him home.

Bucky's eyes have slipped closed, and Steve takes a moment to stare. He pets his belly, trailing his hand down to the boy’s wet little cock and further down to his balls. He plays with the soft skin, considering him. Bucky’s shrunk up some in the past three years, but he’s still bigger than he should be. Steve imagines what he’ll look like, after the procedure. There’ll be a bare space there, room to press and stimulate him. Steve's never had much of a preference with male omegas, finding both the little pocket of looser skin left after a castration and the tiny, coin purse sac of an intact omega to be attractive, in their own ways. But he can’t deny that he likes the aesthetics of a cut omega.

“Bucky?” he says softly. “There’s something I have to talk with you about, something we’re gonna have to do eventually. And I don’t want you to be scared, so hear me out, okay?” He waits until Bucky opens his eyes, a little wrinkle of worry forming between his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks.

Steve cups his sac and rubs it gently. “Here,” he murmurs. “You’ll need to have these removed, Sweetheart. Do you know about that?”

Bucky tenses. “What? N-no,” he looks pleadingly up at Steve. “Why?!”

“It’s something they’ve had written down in your chart for a while,” Steve admits. “I’ve avoided bringing it up until now. We had more short term parts of your treatment plan to work on, and I didn’t want to upset you. But I’m going to bond you, Sweetheart, and I gotta take care of you. This is what all your doctors have been recommending.”

Bucky keens miserably. “I don’t want to. Please. Please don’t make me.”

Steve hushes him, rubbing his belly and cupping his balls. “It’s such a simple procedure, Sweetheart. Lots of omegas are cut. Your body had a little too much time to develop. Remember how we talked about that?”

Bucky whimpers and nods uncertainly. “Y-yeah.”

“You’re bigger than most omegas down here,” Steve tells him gently. “Your body’s making hormones that you don’t need. It gets you all confused. That’s part of what makes you get so angry sometimes.”

Bucky whimpers. “Will it hurt?” he asks tearfully.

It’s such a naive question that it makes Steve’s heart ache. “No, Honey,” he soothes. “Not very much at all. You’ll just go to sleep while they do it. And then you’ll have nice pain medicine to keep you comfy while you heal. We’ll get you nested up at home. You’ll probably sleep a lot. You can watch movies and eat as much ice cream as you want,” he coaxes. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Bucky sniffles. “I don’t wanna.”

“I know, I know. It’s new and scary, but it’ll be so simple, I promise. I’ll be right there to take care of you, okay?”

Bucky sniffles for a few more minutes, but then he nods meekly, giving in. “Okay,” he whispers. “You’ll be with me the whole time?”

Steve bends down to kiss him. “The whole time,” he assures. “You’re such a good boy, Bucky. It’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”

Bucky doesn’t hesitate to nod this time, and Steve rumbles low in his chest, pleased. “Good boy,” he praises. “Once you’re healed it’ll feel nice,” he promises. “You’ll have an easier time getting pleasure from here.” He touches Bucky’s hole gently, circling the rim. “Release will be easier.”

Bucky’s still nervous, Steve can smell it on him. But he calms down enough for Steve to get him in a fresh diaper and dressed again. He can hardly believe the conversation went the way it did. If Steve had attempted to talk about this during Bucky's last stay on-ward, he's nearly positive he would've had a meltdown on his hands. But Bucky accepted it so easily.

“So proud of you, bub,” he praises. “Come on. Let’s go get you some lunch, huh?”

By four fifty, he’s said goodnight to Bucky and promised to be back the very next day, when he’ll see him discharged from his stay on-ward and bring him home. He clocks out and takes the train to a specialty omega shop up in Queens, where, along with a bunch of nesting supplies, he purchases Bucky a nice collar to go home in. It’s pricey and has all the bells and whistles, from inflation features and removable D rings, to insertable scent chambers and a GPS locator. Steve figures he must really be giving off the 'new Alpha' vibe, because the saleswoman smiles at him indulgently and says “congratulations” as she’s ringing up his purchases.

"Oh. Thanks." He blushes and tries to keep a straight face, but can't help but wind up beaming anyway.

At home he takes the tags off all of the purchases and sets them aside tidy and ready for Bucky, excited about how the kid will react when he sees his new things and gets to experience someone taking care of him properly and spoiling him for the first time in his life.

Geez, Steve thinks, by tomorrow he’s going to have an omega living with him. He feels giddy about it. Even with knowing Bucky’s personal issues surrounding his designation, Steve still isn’t worried. He cares so deeply for Bucky, loves him even, at this point. And he knows that no matter what obstacles they may face going forward, this is the best thing that he could do for the omega.

He flits about the apartment that evening, full of nervous energy but in a fantastic mood. He shoots off a few emails, one to Sam, inquiring about job possibilities at Shield or other local private practices. Even if there isn’t a position available at Sam’s firm, Steve is still very confident in his ability to find a new job. He’s got excellent qualifications, and omega healthcare is a chronically understaffed field. He’ll have to give up the role of support Alpha, though. At least in a sexual capacity. It wouldn’t be fair to put Bucky through that, coming home each day smelling of other omegas. Steve couldn’t do that to him.

He tries to fill his evening up with distractions, but it’s hard. He surfs a few job boards half-assedly, scent marks the stuff he bought for Bucky, makes a microwave dinner that he can barely taste, and watches an episode of a show he’s been following. Nothing gets his mind off Bucky for long. He’s simply too elated and impatient for the next day to arrive. So when eleven P.M. rolls around and he’s still wired as fuck, he goes rooting through the medicine cabinet, downing four Benadryl tablets in an effort to get at least a modicum of sleep in for tomorrow.

Predictably, he wakes up earlier than usual. Rather than closing his eyes again until his alarm goes off, he forces himself to don sneakers and go for his usual morning run, pounding out a few extra miles because he’s got the time and because he needs to burn off some of this nervous energy. He goes back home, showers, changes. He heads for the Sanatorium with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a skip in his step. 

God, he thinks as he keys into the hospital’s ground floor, the building really is ugly: very outdated, institutional, depressing. He’s gotten so used to it over the past five years. He’s glad that Bucky won’t ever have to come through its halls again.

Stanley isn’t at the security desk when he passes by, and Steve’s kind of glad, since for the first time in a long time he’s forgotten to grab their usual morning pastries. He leans through the security window and snatches his badge from the wall, heading for the elevators.

Raynor intercepts him at the double doors leading onto the ward, her mouth set in a grim line.

Instantly, Steve is on high alert, tension pulling through his body. “What happened?” he says, already panicking that something awful has happened to Bucky in the last sixteen hours. “Is he hurt?”

“No. His parents showed up. Come on.”

Steve’s guts sink and harden with dread, yet at the same time he doesn’t really have the chance to work himself into a true panic, because they’re on the move. Raynor marches straight to the conference room, inside of which they find a somber-faced orderly at the door, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes seated at the table, and Bucky huddled down over in the far corner, having a bit of a fit. Steve instantly recognizes it as another stress fugue, though thankfully it seems to be less severe than the one he’d found him in yesterday. He’s still got all his clothes on and he isn’t humping anything, so that’s a plus.

Steve hurries over and kneels down next to him. “Buck? Oh Buck, Sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m right here with you, Baby. Please don’t cry.”

Bucky’s huddled on the floor, tearfully rocking in place, one arm wrapped around his knees and the other hand up at his face, sucking two of his fingers. Steve wipes his cheeks and kisses his forehead, heartstricken at seeing him so upset. “Shh sh sh, Honey. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.” He remembers his backpack and slings it off his shoulder, unzipping it and dumping half its contents on the floor in search of the collar inside. He finds it and starts putting it on him, getting the buckle closed and the pressure points lined up with Bucky’s glands. “Can you get something for his mouth?” he tells the orderly at the door. The man nods with wide eyes and hurries out of the room. Steve finishes with the collar and fits the little air pump to its port, squeezing it until the pressure points in the lining have all inflated. Bucky’s breathing calms down considerably just from that. Steve rumbles low in his chest for him, giving him the sound of his Alpha’s approval. “Good boy,” he Voices, petting his face soothingly. “So good for me, bub.”

“Excuse me."

Steve looks back over his shoulder and meets George Barnes’ scowl with one of his own. “Be quiet,” he growls at him, making the man’s face go slack in sheer surprise. “Trust me, I’ll be right with you,” Steve grits. Turning back, he continues to murmur quiet, comforting words for Bucky to hear and latch onto; telling him how he’s right there and he’s not leaving, how he’s his Alpha and Bucky’s his omega and how they’re safe and good and everything is going to be just fine. Bucky whimpers and pushes himself closer to Steve, still crying sluggishly, but he’s non-verbal and even if he weren’t, he’s still got half his hand shoved into his mouth, his body’s reflexes in full gear as he tries to calm himself down.

Behind, Mrs. Barnes is complaining at her husband to “do something,” and Bucky registers her shrill voice and starts to rock a little harder. Steve winces as he sees the red indent of where Bucky’s started chewing on his fingers.

Luckily that’s when the orderly returns, and he hurries over to give Steve the suckling gag he’s brought. “Thanks,” Steve grunts, glad to see that the guy actually had the foresight to bring along a container of PheroGel for the thing. Steve exhales in relief and takes it from him. It'll help Bucky calm down. “Good thinking,” he mutters, maneuvering Bucky so that he can coax his hand away from his mouth and feed the rubber head of the gag past his lips instead. Bucky parts easily for it, accepting it with an anxious whine. “Shhh, there you go.” Steve velcros it in the back and checks the fit, then opens the valve and fills the chamber with the PheroGel.

Bucky makes a tiny, surprised sound when the taste reaches him, his cheeks hollowing as he returns to suckling instinctively. Steve smiles and encourages him. “That’s right. You just focus on that, okay?” He pets Bucky’s face and watches as he visibly calms down from the pressure of the collar and the feeling of something heavy and Alpha-scented in his mouth. “There you go, Sweetheart,” he soothes. “Just close your eyes and focus on how that feels. Can you do that for Alpha?” Bucky sniffles and nods tearfully, and Steve’s heart squeezes as he watches his eyelids start to droop closed. “Good boy,” he praises him once more. The gag is a slow suckle design, so Bucky should be able to keep using the pheromones to self-soothe while Steve works on dealing with the Barnes.

He’s enraged that they’re here at all. Steve fully intends to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Forcing himself to pull away from Bucky and stand, he’s stone faced by the time he turns around to face the Barnes. He walks over to stand across the conference table from them. They’re sitting side by side, but Steve doesn’t pull out a chair to join them. He locks his arms and leans with his hands braced on the back of a chair. “What are you doing here?” he says, letting his full displeasure come through in his voice.

For a second, both of the Barnes look a little bit intimidated. Unfortunately, that doesn’t last. George Barnes seems to recover some of his willpower and squares his shoulders to glower back at Steve. “We came to get him,” he snaps, sparing a disdainful glance towards the corner where Bucky is huddled. “We came to take him home and now they’re telling us we don’t have permission. ‘Permission’!”

“That’s right.”

“Well that’s bullcrap. He’s our son!”

Steve smiles nastily at him. “Well unfortunately, Mr. Barnes, You signed paperwork relinquishing custody of him.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. That was only a few days ago! We’ve changed our minds, so you just get him packed up or, er …” he glances back over at Bucky and winces in disgust when he sees his son: collared and rocking and stimming with the sucker strapped over his mouth. “Just get him ready to go. Take that crap off him. We’ve found somewhere to put him, and he’s coming with us.”

“‘Put him’?” Steve repeats, frowning.

“Yeah.” George raises his chin defiantly, looking every bit the asshole that he is. “Found out he’s actually worth somethin’, even like this.” At ‘this’, he casts another disdainful look in Bucky’s direction. “Milking center up in New Rochelle takes cases like him. Said they’ll pay six grand up front.”

Steve sees red so fast, he has to hold on tighter to the chair for a few seconds. “What?” he says, the word coming out quietly only because he’s so breathlessly fucking mad. “Are you fucking shitting me right now?”

George Barnes’ snide expression is more than enough of an answer. “At least he’ll be useful, not a leech on society.”

In his head, Steve hears Bucky’s tearful, bitter words from two days ago: 

“Just a waste of hardworking people’s tax dollars!” 

An unpleasant groaning sound meets his ears, before he figures out that it’s his own hands, stressing and warping the plastic backing of the chair. He pulls them away and glowers across the table at the other man. A fucking milking center, he fumes, wanting to pick the chair up and put it straight through George Barnes’ smug fucking face.

Because Steve’s been to those places, has been called in to evaluate the omegas housed in their custody. He’s seen the warehouse-sized rooms: filled with rows and rows of omegas, fat and sedated, restrained to benches and hooked up to machines, bred and fed and watered and hosed down in place, like animals.

Christina steps in, probably because she can sense that her employee is about to unleash imminent violence on their visitors. “Unfortunately, the law is clear in this matter,” she tells Mr. Barnes, as no-nonsense here as she is in any other situation. “You signed all legal rights to James over four days ago and you no longer have any say in his care. The hospital has full custody of him, and we’ve already approved a long-term guardian for him.”

“What?” George Barnes stands abruptly from his chair, sending it rolling back to thunk against the wall in his haste. “What are you talking about? You can’t do that! I’ll … I’ll get a judge. There’s no way you can just—”

“There’s every way we ‘can just’,” Steve growls, unable to restrain himself from being unprofessional at this point. Fuck it. He doesn’t work at Hydra anymore, so unlike in times past where he’s been forced to make nice with less than stellar parents, now he can say exactly what he’s thinking. “You are a piece of shit, garbage human being, who shouldn’t be allowed to raise a fucking dog let alone a child. I think that you should leave now. In fact I strongly advise it. Forget about ever seeing Bucky again—because you never will—and just be grateful that you got away with the level of abuse that you did for so many years without ever being charged in a court of law.”

George Barnes opens his mouth, ostensibly to say something pissy, but before he can, Steve tacks on:

“Oh, and in fact you should be very grateful that you did sign those papers when you did. Because if you hadn’t? You’d best believe I’d be making sure you’d lose custody of all your children before you ever got him back. Now why don’t you pick your jaw up off the floor, help your wife heft her sloppy ass out of that chair, and leave this place before you’re thrown out?”

Of all things, it’s the comment about Mrs. Barnes’s weight that fuels George Barnes into action. He gets alarmingly red in the face, and it’s to the background noise of his wife’s insulted screeches that he starts to come towards Steve (presumably with the intention of hitting him). But before he can so much as round the end of the conference table, Stanley is bursting through the door.

“Hold it! Not another move, Buster!”

At Stanley’s back, Rumlow is standing with his taser gun drawn and pointed right over Stanley’s head. It’s that sight which seems to catch Mr. Barnes’ attention, and he pulls back from where he’d been approaching Steve, hands raised and gesturing for his wife to get up, too. “Alright, alright. We’re coming. Geez.”

“Sure you were.” Stanley sports his tough guy face, proud of himself, and ushers the Barnes into the hallway. Steve’s opinion of Rumlow inches marginally higher when he sees him hurriedly holster his weapon and step back, so that Stanley doesn’t realize he’d had a little bit of backup, there.

With the Barnes led away, Steve returns all of his attention to Bucky. The tension of this confrontation seems to have had surprisingly little impact on him, and Steve is especially pleased when he sees that the orderly had at some point managed to get both a blindfold and a pair of noise cancelling headphones on Bucky as well. With the positive stimulus of the collar and gag, he’s much calmer. Steve hurriedly takes the headphones and blindfold off, followed by the gag. “Hey, hey baby.” He’s petting all over Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression and scent the state he’s in now. He’s surprised when Bucky blinks a few times and then looks up at him with clear eyes.

“Steve,” he breathes.

“I’m here. It’s okay. You don’t have to go with them. You’re safe. You got your words back?”

Bucky blinks some more, looking between Steve and the place where his parents had been sitting at the conference table. “... They can’t take me, right?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, Buck. That’s right. They can’t. They legally can’t.”

Slowly, Bucky’s expression starts to brighten. He smiles. “But you can take me,” he says hopefully. “To live with you. Because you’re my Alpha now, right? And I’m your omega?”

Steve doesn’t even think of propriety, he just leans in and kisses Bucky straight on the mouth. Bucky’s lips are so soft, and he whimpers and responds so eagerly. Steve forces himself to pull back before he can get carried away. “Yeah, bub,” he says happily, trying not to get emotional in front of Raynor. “Yeah. You’re my omega now.”

In reality, they’ve probably got close to a half day’s worth of paperwork and consent-confirming counselling sessions ahead of them. But in the way that Bucky’s asking about? Yeah. They already belong to each other.

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#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers #fanfiction #steve rogers x bucky barnes #fanfic #medical kink #alpha steve rogers #omega bucky barnes #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/omega #a/b/o #hurt/comfort #omorashi #d/s dynamic #cognitive disability #medical needs #made up medical stuff #institutionalization #stimming #doctor/patient #age gap relationship

[corsetsandflowercrwns]

Dolly was at the doctor's office for her physical exam. She sat on the exam table in a cute bra and panty set, waiting for the doctor to arrive.

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#closed starter #18+ only #medical kink #doctor/patient #nsft rp #nsft