weewookinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
weewookinkmeme) wrote2025-05-20 10:34 am
weewookinkmeme) wrote2025-05-20 10:34 am
Kink Meme
So how does this work?
1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.
Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."
2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.
3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!
4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.
5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.
Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.
Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.
It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!
If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.
Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.
You can see new fic in the fills thread, or on Pinboard for clickable links (If you're using a phone, Pinboard will probably be easiest.).
AO3 Collection
1. Anonymously post a short prompt. It could be shippy, porny, weird, fluffy, angsty, gen, or whatever else your heart desires.
Remember that a short, open-ended prompt is easier to fill than something highly specific. E.g. "What if Buck and Eddie had exhibitionist sex at the gym?" is more likely to get a fill than "What if Buck and Eddie had sex at the gym, Buck came first, then someone walked in and they never spoke of it again. After a slow burn, they get together while Maddie is giving birth to her and Chimney's third child."
2. If you see a prompt that strikes your fancy, anonymously fill it. Your fill could be 200 words written straight into the comment box, or it could be a multi-part epic. Multiple fills for one prompt are not only acceptable, but awesome.
Note: Deanoning your fic, or posting it to your namespace AO3, Tumblr, Twitter, or any other account, is completely fine, but please wait a week or so to do so, so it can belong totally to the kink meme for a bit. Kink memes are not only for fic, they are also communities; we want to celebrate your fic that you made for this community for a bit before it's released into the wider world.
Second note: Deanoning is NOT required. Your fic can live as an anonymous fill for as long as you please. :)
3. If you post a prompt, try to fill one if you can!
4. Comment on things you're excited about and start discussions. The conversations can be the best part of being on a kink meme! And part of the benefit of being on Dreamwidth is that we are all completely anonymous, so you can deep discuss anything you please without shame.
5. Don't troll, wank, or start discourse. If you don't like a prompt/fill, scroll on past and post something you do like. Treat people well. Harassment will be deleted with prejudice. If you see someone treating people poorly, you can report it here.
Edit: Feel free to post prompts for RPF ships. Let's make sure to only prompt about actively famous people, not relatives or friends of famous people (unless they're famous in their own right), and avoid RPF prompts about real life minors.
Second Edit: Just a reminder to be careful to write out "omegaverse" or "alpha/beta/omega" instead of using the letter abbreviations, as it's a very nasty slur in some parts of the world.
It's that simple! Here is a list of kinks for inspiration, get prompting and have fun!
If anyone is totally new to HTML, I've written up a quick tutorial here; click to expand.
Basic HTML is pretty easy! This is how you make words bold, italicized, underlined, bigger, smaller, etc. You use what are called "tags", and surround the words you want to be affected.
That's the raw HTML. When you post a comment, it will change the text. So when you post, the three HTML tags I'm using there would look:<i>Like this</i><b>Or this</b><h1>Or this</h1>
Like this
Or thisOr this
<i></i> = italics <b></b> = bold <u></u> = underlinedThat's the very basics, and probably all you need for commentfic. Here is a more in-depth guide, and here is the HTML that is usable on Dreamwidth.
AO3 Collection
Henren playing doctor
(Anonymous) 2025-05-22 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Henren playing doctor
(Anonymous) 2025-05-28 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Hen/Karen playing doctor (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2025-06-09 01:12 am (UTC)(link)Her brilliant wife is currently driving her up the wall. Hen made a deck of color-coded flashcards for her anatomy final, and she’s been drilling them with every spare moment. Unfortunately, this has been demonstrating the limits of her ability to multitask.
Denny’s grabbing everything he needs for school, and Hen has the flash cards in one hand, trying to help Denny collect his things with the other. So far this morning she’s given Denny a box of cheese crackers instead of a box of cereal, a pen instead of a spoon, and his soccer duffel bag instead of his backpack.
“Henrietta,” Karen says finally. “I love you. Can you please focus for a minute.”
Hen blinks and looks down at the duffel in her hand. She hangs it back up, snags Denny’s backpack off the hook next to it, and hands it to him. “Go get ‘em today,” she says to their son. “Get those synapses firing in your prefrontal cortex.”
Denny rolls his eyes. “Love you, Mom.” He trips out the door.
Karen starts to follow him.
Hen says, “Bye, love. My atria contract for you.”
Karen groans and mentally translates. “That’s—your heart beats for me, right? It’s like I’m married to a textbook.”
Hen tilts her head, the beginning of a dangerous look on her face.
“A very beautiful, talented, wonderful textbook,” Karen adds hastily. “But I’m ready for your final to be over.”
“You and me both,” says her wife.
***
They’re in bed, sated and on the come-down, holding each other skin-to-skin. Karen would like to imagine it only happens because she’s still under the influence of the endorphin rush from the orgasm, but it’s—well, Hen’s flashcards have gotten into her head, too, if she’s thinking about it in terms of endorphins. And she’s always liked when Hen shows off what she’s good at.
Karen has her nose in the hollow of Hen’s throat, breathing her in. Hen is dragging her fingers across Karen’s skin, delighting in touching her, and as her fingertip makes its way up Karen’s arm, she whispers, “And this is your median nerve.”
Karen feels her breath stutter and shifts a little to hide it. She thought she was safe from the flashcards here. She didn’t think she had anything to fear from inside her own head. Hen taps on the nodule of bone at her elbow. “Just below here it branches into your flexor carpi ulnaris and your flexor digitorum profundus.”
Karen would like to groan, tease Hen for bringing flashcards into the bedroom, but she’s distracted by the rush of heat with each new whisper.
It’s rhythmic, soothing, a little too easy to sink into just feeling the way her skin lights up with every point Hen taps. Goosebumps lift along her arms where Hen’s fingertips just passed. Hen traces over them. “Piloerection,” she whispers.
Karen’s skin tingles and her stomach flips.
Hen has always read her too well. She clocks it. Karen doesn’t need to pull her face away from Hen’s chest to know there’s a smile on Hen’s face like the cat that got the cream. Experimentally, Hen slides her fingers to the pulse point at Karen’s throat. “Carotid,” she says quietly.
Karen feels her pulse speed up and the blood heating her cheeks. Hen presses into her pulse, gentle, just enough to signal that she could tell Karen’s pulse changed. Karen can’t hide it.
God, Karen has been calling Hen an human anatomy textbook for weeks, she’s going to get so much shit for this.
“You’re into that,” Hen says, not quite a question.
“Competence is sexy,” Karen responds, muffled, not quite an answer.
There are fingers trailing up her hip. “Iliac crest,” Hen says.
Karen breathes out hard.
“We could lean into it,” Hen says.
Karen swallows.
Hen traces down the line of her sternum. “Would you like that?”
Karen says, clinging to composure, “You want to play doctor.”
“Kind of seems like you want me to play doctor,” says Hen. She hovers a fingertip at Karen’s nipple, not touching, waiting. Karen wants her to touch and she knows what to say to make it happen. And in the end—well, it will benefit her, too.
“Okay, yes,” Karen admits. “Please.”
Hen grins. “That’s all I wanted to hear,” she says, and she cups her breast and kisses her hard.
***
Which brings them to now. The house is quiet this evening. They told Eddie that Hen needed a night to study (Chim would ask too many questions and Athena would know immediately that there was more to the story), so Karen drops Denny off at a sleepover with Christopher.
She doesn’t know exactly what Hen has planned, but they can take their time.
They can be as loud as they want.
When Karen walks into the bedroom, Hen is in a chair next to the bed flipping through a deck of notecards. She’s in her usual comfy studying clothes: no bra, oversized shirt, soft sweatpants. She’s looped a stethoscope around her neck.
There’s a silk robe laid out on the bed, and Karen shivers with the anticipation of feeling the silk on her skin. Hen smiles up at Karen, eyes dark, like she’s just scented prey. “Dr. Wilson,” Hen says. “Thank you for doing this.”
Karen clears her throat. “Dr. Wilson.”
Hen ticks a wry eyebrow. “Not yet. But soon, with your help. I appreciate you helping me study. Do you have any questions before we get started?”
Karen shakes her head, feeling her blood heat already, incapable of saying anything.
“Well then,” Hen says. “To study anatomy, I’ll need to see your anatomy. Why don’t you change into that robe and have a seat on the edge of the bed.”
Karen steps closer, not breaking eye contact. She lifts her shirt over her head, no fanfare, only Hen’s hungry gaze dropping to her breasts and stomach. Karen reaches behind her back, arching a little more than she needs to, pressing her chest forward as she unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the floor. She licks a finger, pinches her own nipple, and Hen’s gaze snaps up to her face. “No,” Hen says.
Karen raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“Not yet,” says her wife.
Karen smiles slowly. She drops her jeans, her underwear, turns and folds at the waist to pick up the clothes she’s dropped to the floor, exposing herself to Hen. She stands and steps to toss them in the laundry basket, looking over her shoulder as she does, come-hither. Hen swallows visibly.
Karen walks lightly back to the bed, where the robe is laid out.
The robe is red, like a fairy tale. Hen is hungry and Karen is going willingly into the mouth of the wolf. She doesn’t mind at all.
She slips the robe over her shoulders, forgoes the tie at the waist, lets it slip down her shoulder a little so the fabric caresses her breast and exposes it. Hen’s gaze drags, weighty, up her body. She doesn’t move closer.
“I thought we would start with some basic tests of your cranial nerve function,” Hen says quietly. “Can you close your right eye for me?”
Karen says nothing, afraid to break the spell already falling over them. She closes her eye.
“Follow the end of my pencil with your other eye,” Hen says. The eraser of her pencil is perfectly pink, like a tongue. It moves up, down, and Karen tracks its motion. To the left, to the right, slow, like Hen is conducting a waltz. Towards the tip of Karen’s nose, and away from her.
“Good,” Hen says, and Karen is pleased to have done the task well. “You can open your eye. Close your left eye.”
Her pencil traces the same cross in the air and Karen watches it, feeling a relaxed kind of tingling sensation waterfall down her spine. Her shoulders relax. Hen sees it and smiles.
“Now with both eyes, follow my pencil again.”
The repetition is hypnotic, a little. Karen watches the pencil. Hen watches Karen, utterly focused.
Karen lets herself fall into it, a dreamlike feeling. It’s delicate like a spider web: easy to break if she wanted to, but it’s just so nice to relax into it.
“There you go,” Hen murmurs.
She steps close, easing Karen’s knees apart so that she can stand between them. Karen lets it happen, feeling the slack in her muscles, as though her body is moving through molasses.
Hen presses three fingers into the muscle of Karen’s neck, the other hand along Karen’s cheek, and says, “Turn your face into my hand.”
There’s a little resistance from Hen’s hand when she tries, but not so much it’s difficult. Hen switches hands. “Good,” she says. “Again.”
Karen turns into her hand, nuzzling into it where it cups her face.
“You can relax,” Hen says. Karen lets what little tension was left seep from her muscles.
“Beautiful. Last one,” says Hen, hushed. Her hands are on Karen’s shoulders, pressing down lightly. “Lift your shoulders.”
Karen lifts on command, relaxes on command, follows the thread of Hen’s voice like a North Star.
Hen hooks her fingers under the edges of the robe at Karen’s shoulders. “I’m going to take this off now,” she says softly. Karen blinks slowly, presses her chest forward a little to help shrug the robe off. It skates down her arms to pool under her on the bed.
“Okay, now lay back,” Hen says, still quiet enough not to disturb the trance Karen is in. Hen guides her down with a hand on each shoulder, gentle but firm. There’s a hand at Karen’s ankle, adjusting until she’s laid out flat, arms at her sides. She’s exposed, a living dummy for Hen to practice on.
Hen’s seen all of her at her best and her worst, but this feels new and oddly vulnerable. Her pelvic floor clenches with it. Hen’s barely touched her and she’s already wet.
The mattress shifts as Hen kneels on it. Karen focuses on the ceiling, pulse thrumming.
And then Hen starts touching. A light brush of her fingertips at the inside of Karen’s forearms (median nerve, where all this started—and the remembered heat builds on the anticipation, making Karen shiver), her collarbones (clavicles), a tapping line down her rib cage counting ribs, murmuring anatomical terms all the while. It’s not enough, and Hen is dodging the places on Karen’s body where she’s most craving touch.
Hen presses lightly at the vulnerable part of her belly just inside the point of her hip, whispers “Psoas muscle,” and the feeling shoots straight to her center. Karen gasps a breath and arches up.
Hen tsks lightly, hands moving to press Karen’s hips to the bed. “Baby, I need you to stay still so I can study. Can you do that for me?”
Karen lets out a high-pitched breath. “Yes,” she manages.
Hen goes back to her methodical work mapping Karen’s body. Tibial nerve, femoral nerve, sciatic nerve, and the arousal is surging deep inside her.
She can’t move, she told Hen she wouldn’t move.
The stethoscope is dangling from Hen’s neck, and Karen is desperately trying to think of anything but the lightning twisting through her body from Hen’s fingertips, and she thinks, How does a stethoscope work. I can figure this out. It’s amplifying the sound waves.
Hen realizes she’s distracted and brushes accidentally-on-purpose against her nipple. Karen’s abs contract on a sharp breath in and her hands lift of their own volition off the bed.
“Hands here,” Hen says quietly but firmly, looping her fingers around Karen’s wrists like cuffs and pressing her into the bed, holding one two three as though she doesn’t trust Karen to remember to keep them there.
“Hurry up—”
Hen’s voice goes a little stern, sparking a rush of heat. “I have so much left to study, baby, don’t be impatient.”
Karen sighs. The soporific flow of honey that lies under all of Hen’s instructions laps at her, insistent.
“We’ll get there,” Hen says, a smile in her voice. Karen doesn’t know when she closed her eyes. She gives into the flow of the sensations and Hen’s voice cradling her through the current.
Hen leans in, breath ghosting across Karen’s skin, peppering kisses along her body and whispering medical gibberish, utterly focused and unhesitating. Where Hen’s fingertips had traced patterns, she’s now pressing in firmly, making Karen’s muscles jump, sending electricity arcing down her spine.
A tendon stands out from Karen’s throat with the effort of staying still and Hen traces it with open-mouthed kisses, sucking lightly.
Karen swallows, and Hen sees.
“Open your mouth,” she says. Karen opens her mouth, obedient.
“Stick out your tongue,” Hen says. She presses two fingers in. “Median lingual sulcus,” she says, and with the back of her other hand she presses lightly on Karen’s throat.
“Epiglottis,” she says, and slides her fingers slowly down Karen’s throat. “Hyoid. Thyroid cartilage. Cricoid.”
The backs of her fingers are just enough pressure for Karen to be very aware of her breathing. Saliva pools around Hen’s fingers in Karen’s open mouth.
The only warning Karen has is the sensation of Hen’s breath on her chest and then Hen’s mouth lands on her nipple and she sucks hard. Karen arches up into her, desperately seeking touch, feeling as though there’s water rushing in her ears, in her brain, washing her clean of anything but want.
Hen’s fingers slide out of Karen’s mouth and wet her other nipple, exposed to the air. Hen settles into a rhythm—sucking, pinching, breath cooling each tightened nipple—so that twin points of heat shoot lines down to tug behind her navel, insistent.
Karen is writhing against the motion, stillness forgotten. Hen eases away, watches her settle. “Maybe it would help you stay in place if you could see yourself,” she says, a little cocky. Karen blinks in confusion.
Hen clearly anticipated this situation because the mirror is already in place against the wall next to the bed. She just has to rotate it, and Karen looks at herself. She’s flushed dark with arousal, hair spread out on the pillow, neck marked by Hen’s attention, nipples glistening and hard. She looks wanton.
Hen sits back on the bed. She folds one of Karen’s legs up, widens the gap between her thighs.
“Look at yourself,” she says, reverent, and Karen does. “Wide open for me. So wet. I could do anything I wanted to you,” and Karen watches her own belly ripple as her muscles tense with arousal.
Hen returns her attentions to Karen’s nipple, presses low on Karen’s belly with a hand, drags the hand down Karen’s skin between her legs. Hen kisses slowly down her body, kisses her: “Clitoris,” she says, a light kiss on Karen’s clit, not enough. She drags her fingertips around the outside of Karen’s pussy, whispers, “Labia majora. Labia minora.”
Her breath caresses Karen’s clit with each word.
In the mirror, Karen watches herself press her hands into the bed, sees the way she’s dripping, her legs trembling. Her legs have fallen open farther, desperation in every line of her body.
It’s not just that she’s exposed. It’s that Hen knows her, head to toe, has spent all these years learning her body. It’s that Hen gives her all to anything she does, that she’s so fucking good at it, that she’s bending all of that will now to making Karen feel good. It’s that she sees herself flushed in the bright light, exposed, here to let Hen act on her, and she’d let Hen do whatever she wanted, and she’d love it.
FILL: Hen/Karen playing doctor (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2025-06-09 01:12 am (UTC)(link)“Please,” she gasps, not sure what she’s asking for.
Hen reaches up with her other hand to pinch Karen’s nipple hard, sending a bolt of electricity through her, and it meets the rhythm of Hen’s mouth, and she falls over the edge. Hen holds her through it, easing up the way she’s sucking at Karen’s clit until she’s just resting her face in Karen’s stomach as Karen’s breath gradually steadies.
Karen lets her head fall to the side to look at her wife. “God,” she breathes. “That was great.”
Hen smiles, a smile with teeth. “Oh, baby,” she says, pitying. “I’m not done studying. I need to do your back.”
Karen’s pulse stutters. Hen rolls over, shucking her clothes in a single movement, revealing a harness under her sweats. She snags the strap-on from a drawer in the nightstand, the one with the suction on the back of it in exactly the right place. Hen connects it to the front of the harness, closes her eyes for a moment at the feeling of it. She’ll be feeling it press against herself when she moves, Karen knows, or when it bobs with gravity, or when she’s thrusting—
Hen’s gaze is on her again, dark. “Turn over,” she says, and Karen does.
Hen’s hand is at her hip. She lifts a little, and Hen slips something underneath her, trapping it between her clit and the bed. It buzzes, once, and Karen jerks. It’s a vibrator, then, and Hen’s got a remote somewhere.
Karen’s face is in a pillow. She isn’t blindfolded, but it works out the same: it means she can’t see what’s coming.
The vibrator buzzes on, lightly, but she’s still sensitive. Her hips jerk.
Hen’s hands land firm on her hips to hold her in place, and she feels herself shaking. The heat is already building again.
Hen presses fingertips to the back of her head. “Occipital,” she says, and Karen thinks, oh, god, I don’t know how long I can take this.
Hen works her way down, each vertebra, firm pressure on each rib. At Karen’s tailbone, Hen skips to her feet and starts more of a massage, only Karen can’t relax into it because Hen is turning the vibrator up a little, down again, up a little, and every touch makes Karen burn more with want. The way Hen digs into her muscles is a counterpoint to the pulsing at her clit, and Karen is rolling her hips into the bed, hard, finding herself on the edge again.
The vibrator shuts off. “Hold still,” says Hen.
Karen whines a protest.
“You can have it back on if you wait for me,” Hen says.
“Fine,” Karen says into the pillow.
Hen says, amused, “Almost there, baby.”
And the vibrator is back on underneath her. Hen works her way up Karen’s legs, slowly, torturously. Karen is trying to hold herself back from the edge, but Hen turns up the vibrator and digs into a sensitive spot; Karen rocks her hips into the bed and comes close, and Hen shuts off the vibrator again.
She can feel herself dripping.
“Please,” Karen says.
Hen massages up the muscles of her legs, kneels between Karen’s legs, and the strap nudges at her opening. She thrusts her hips back helplessly, only that lifts her away from the vibrator pinned underneath her and she rocks her hips back forward for the contact on her clit. She’s rocking back and forth, unable to get both sensations at once, on the edge and unable to do anything about it. She makes a small frustrated noise and Hen breathes a laugh.
Hen’s fingers press into the flesh just barely stretching around the tip of the dildo. “This is innervated by the branches of the pudendal nerve,” she says, sliding her fingers through the wetness Karen is messy with, reaching between her legs to tap where the vibrator sits. “Perineal nerve. Dorsal genital nerve.”
The strap is still only nudging gently inside her, but Hen’s let it ease in a fraction of an inch more. Karen clenches at it hopefully and Hen pulls back. “Medically, of course, the g-spot is simply the back of the clitoris,” Hen says calmly, “So a position like this provides stimulation against the front wall—”
“Shut up and fuck me,” Karen says, and on the next breath Hen thrusts deep and Karen feels herself go boneless with relief, hips dropping to press harder into the vibrator underneath her, finally, finally full with her wife.
Hen draws back and thrusts into her again, angled exactly so it will hit where she needs it with the unerring certainty of a woman who’s not only been married more than a decade but also knows the entire internal nervous circuitry she needs to stimulate. She thrusts again, again, pressing Karen down onto the vibrator every time.
Hen folds over Karen’s back, peaked nipples dragging across her back on each thrust, and Karen hears the echo of Hen’s voice from earlier whispering trapezius, infraspinus as Hen’s nipples trace bright lines. She feels the press of breasts replaced with the back of Hen’s hand against her skin as Hen drags at her own nipple, twists. She feels full of sparks, alight.
Her wife’s breathing goes fast and deep the way it always does when she gets close. “Please,” Karen says again, voice shaking.
“Okay,” says Hen, “Come for me, baby,” and she turns the vibrator up the rest of the way and lets her elbow fall to the bed for leverage and thrusts hard and she feels so good inside Karen and pinning her to the bed and the vibrator pulses and Karen is coming, orgasm hitting her white-hot, shaking with each wave.
The vibrator is still on underneath her. Her head is spinning.
Hen stays deep inside her, making tiny motions, just on the edge of too much, trembling with the tension. The hum of the vibrator passes through Karen’s body to the dildo pressing against Hen, like they’re one animal, like they can pass the same sensation between each other. Karen presses herself harder into the vibrator, gasping at the overstimulation, letting the vibration deeper into her to pass through to Hen, and Hen is gasping her release, sinking into Karen completely, muscles gone loose.
Hen’s face drops into Karen’s back. She drops a kiss on her shoulder with a last bit of energy and lets her weight press Karen into the bed.
A breath, the hum of the vibrator.
Hen pats the bed blindly for the remote and the vibrator turns off, and then all that’s left is their breathing, gradually slowing. Karen’s still clenching sporadically at the dildo, and Hen twitches a little every time it moves flush against her. Hen lifts a hand, traces a spiral on the back of Karen’s shoulder. “Scapular nerve,” she says absently.
“Mmm,” says Karen, unable to manage anything else.
Hen eases back to pull out, a soft wet noise and the grounding press of her hand at Karen’s lower back.
“Here, roll over a little,” Hen says.
“I will when I can feel my legs,” Karen mumbles.
Hen laughs. She peels herself away and Karen makes a blind grabbing motion, trying to get her back. There’s a sound of the harness dropping to the ground and then Hen’s warm skin is back against her whole body.
Karen makes a contented sound.
“Love you,” Hen murmurs.
“Love you too,” Karen says, turning her face to look into her eyes, the quiet just-them space. “I can’t wait for your unit on pelvic exams.”
Hen laughs and kisses her lightly on the corner of her mouth.
***
They pick Denny up from the Diaz house in the morning. While he’s collecting his sleeping bag, Eddie stands with them at the door. “How was studying?” he asks. “Productive?”
They exchange a look. Hen says, “It was great. Really helpful. Karen helped with flash cards, she probably knows it as well as I do at this point. Right, babe?”
Karen’s blushing. “I don’t know if I would say that, but I picked up a few things.”
Eddie says, encouraging, “I bet you picked up more than you think. What did you learn?”
Karen glances at Hen. “Phalanges, clavicle, lingual sulcus, um—pudendal nerve...”
“Oh, is that what was most memorable,” Hen says, teasing.
“Wait a minute,” says Eddie.
“Denny, you about ready?” Karen calls. “It’s time to go.”
Re: FILL: Hen/Karen playing doctor (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2025-06-09 06:26 am (UTC)(link)i love everything about this. and karen is so right, competence is sexy. and like. wow. hot!
i love how you write them, playful and teasing and with an ease to them, because they've been together for so long, know each others bodies so well, know what makes the other come, and still the delight at it! yay!
(and i love eddie getting a clue, that was so funny)
Re: FILL: Hen/Karen playing doctor (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2025-06-09 10:36 am (UTC)(link)