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Title: Performativity
Summary: House didn't think she had it in her.
Fandom: House
Word Count: 383
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, pegging, toxic amounts of swagger
Pairing: Stacy/House
A/N: For
queenzulu and her id, pursuant to this post. Set pre-canon, obviously. Can we talk for a minute about how much I love Sela Ward? Because she's like my favorite, and not just because we're from the same town.
House honestly didn't think she had it in her.
He doesn't know why he didn't figure it out sooner, though. At her heart, Stacy is a Southern girl, and if there's one thing about Southern girls, it's that they know how to act.
He watches her do it, when he sees her work. She goes in with the sweetness and light routine as a matter of course, all grace and aw-shucks smiles- but the instant she thinks you're fucking with her, the whip cracks, and you're suddenly staring at some kind of avenging warrior goddess.
It's pretty much ferociously hot.
She just walks into their bedroom like there's nothing weird at all about the fact that she's wearing nothing but an enormous strap-on and a shit-eating grin.
“You're going to put somebody's eye out with that thing,” he says, despite the fact that his mouth's gone a little dry. “Sure you can handle it?”
“The real question is,” she drawls, wrapping a hand around her dick and stroking, which kind of makes House's brain short circuit in the best way, “can you handle it?”
Fuck, she so has him right where she wants him, and he loves it.
He fights her for it a little- it only gets him slapped on the ass- but pretty soon he's holding on to the headboard and pushing back onto her. And it's good, but it's not quite there; it's not quite enough.
“Oh, for Christ's sake,” he says, from between clenched teeth. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
She snorts at him, but holy shit, she listens. Stacy just grabs both of his hips, curling her small hands around him and pulling him back, hard. And lest he start thinking she's not serious about this, she snaps her hips forward, again and again and again, til he actually has to brace himself against the headboard to keep her from smacking him straight into the wall.
She's just pounding away at him like it's her god-given right- and half the time she isn't even coming close to hitting his prostate, but it's so hard and fast and good anyway that he doesn't even care.
Just before he comes all over himself, he decides she's pretty much the perfect woman.
Summary: House didn't think she had it in her.
Fandom: House
Word Count: 383
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, pegging, toxic amounts of swagger
Pairing: Stacy/House
A/N: For
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House honestly didn't think she had it in her.
He doesn't know why he didn't figure it out sooner, though. At her heart, Stacy is a Southern girl, and if there's one thing about Southern girls, it's that they know how to act.
He watches her do it, when he sees her work. She goes in with the sweetness and light routine as a matter of course, all grace and aw-shucks smiles- but the instant she thinks you're fucking with her, the whip cracks, and you're suddenly staring at some kind of avenging warrior goddess.
It's pretty much ferociously hot.
She just walks into their bedroom like there's nothing weird at all about the fact that she's wearing nothing but an enormous strap-on and a shit-eating grin.
“You're going to put somebody's eye out with that thing,” he says, despite the fact that his mouth's gone a little dry. “Sure you can handle it?”
“The real question is,” she drawls, wrapping a hand around her dick and stroking, which kind of makes House's brain short circuit in the best way, “can you handle it?”
Fuck, she so has him right where she wants him, and he loves it.
He fights her for it a little- it only gets him slapped on the ass- but pretty soon he's holding on to the headboard and pushing back onto her. And it's good, but it's not quite there; it's not quite enough.
“Oh, for Christ's sake,” he says, from between clenched teeth. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
She snorts at him, but holy shit, she listens. Stacy just grabs both of his hips, curling her small hands around him and pulling him back, hard. And lest he start thinking she's not serious about this, she snaps her hips forward, again and again and again, til he actually has to brace himself against the headboard to keep her from smacking him straight into the wall.
She's just pounding away at him like it's her god-given right- and half the time she isn't even coming close to hitting his prostate, but it's so hard and fast and good anyway that he doesn't even care.
Just before he comes all over himself, he decides she's pretty much the perfect woman.