Season 8?? Lol what are you talking about??? Everybody knows the show ended at SEVEN seasons!!!!
Season 8 of House? Oh, I don’t know her…
Bold of you to assume that his parents cared enough to keep his childhood/teenagehood memorabilia
I wonder how many things we saw in Christopher's room at the Diazes used to be teenage Eddie's
Fucking obsessed with this! This was so good!! OP thank you for tagging me, I am now forever indebted to you 🫶
also posted on ao3
Wilson was used to finishing his rounds on the oncology floor and seeing House already invading the space in his office like he owned the place. Sometimes he’d find House leaning on the wall right next to his office door- tapping his cane obnoxiously against the word ‘Oncology’ just because he could. Occasionally, if House was bored, he’d see the older man pacing at the end of the hallway between his own office and Wilson’s, like he was waiting for Wilson to decide between the privacy of his office or the glass dome of House’s space. It was a cat and mouse game that Wilson was used to after all these years.
But something about this was different.
House was leaning against the wall by the janitor's closet between their offices; staring intently at Wilson as he approached. Wilson expected House to fall into step with him on the way to his office with some ridiculous demand that Wilson would pretend to fight over before caving like he always did. He’d left a bag of chips on the desk and he could already picture House snagging them and eating them before he’d get the chance to.
What he wasn’t expecting as he walked past was the sudden movement of House’s cane to dart out; the handle of the cane snagging against his wrist, and pulling. Hard. The sudden yank threw off his equilibrium and caused Wilson to stumble from his pathway towards his office. An undignified sound slipped from his lips as he was pulled into the supply closet with a little more force than was strictly necessary.
“House, what the hell are you doing?” Wilson hissed, rubbing absently at the ache that was blossoming in his wrist. “Is this some elaborate hide and seek you’re playing with the rest of your team? Because I have important paperwork I need to-”
House surged forward, pushing Wilson back into the shelving behind them and pinning the younger man in place. His cane clattered to the floor and his hand found purchase on the back of Wilson’s neck as he pulled Wilson into a hungry kiss. “Shut up,” House muttered against Wilson’s mouth before nipping at his lower lip.
Whatever snappy comeback Wilson wanted to bite out quickly dissolved on his tongue as his hand found its way to House’s hip, pulling him closer.
God dammit. House knew this was his weakness. Knew that Wilson would go along with anything House was planning with just a few hurried fervent kisses that always managed to leave Wilson speechless and dizzy.
But he couldn’t give up the fight that easily. What would their lives be if Wilson didn’t push back just because he could? Even if House always ended up winning in the end. Half the fun was the chase, after all.
“House,” Wilson gasped between kisses. “What are you-”
“Shut up,” House repeated, breaking the kiss and fumbling to undo the top button on Wilson’s shirt.
“House,” Wilson said more urgently, hands shaking as he tried to loosen the knot of his tie so that House’s lips could kiss a burning trail down his throat. “Why…”
House tore his mouth away from Wilson’s neck, leaning back slightly in the dim light so he could glare at Wilson. “Do you want to waste time asking questions like ‘What are you doing?’ or ‘Why now when you’ve never made a move on me at work before?’. Or would you rather make out in the janitor's closet like horny teenagers?”
Wilson rolled his eyes. “Shut up and go back to shoving your tongue in my mouth.”
The smirk on House’s lips sent a fast heat racing up Wilson’s neck and across his cheeks. “That’s what I thought.”
That look in House’s eyes could get Wilson on his knees blowing him in half a second flat. And he would- workplace etiquette be damned- except House was kissing him like there was no tomorrow and Wilson’s brain had completely short-circuited.
It was easy to get lost in the kisses. The way House delved deeper deeper deeper into his mouth, as if he were analyzing and memorizing every millimeter of Wilson’s mouth and committing it to his memory. How he slowed down for just a few moments to allow Wilson to catch his breath before it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull between them and they were frantically kissing again.
The air was filled with the sounds of breathless gasps and heavy kisses. Now that he knew House was on a mission, Wilson could actually keep up and plan his next move. He let House lead the kiss, letting House’s tongue lick across the roof of his mouth teasingly. When House made a move to pull back for air, Wilson chased after him, catching House’s mouth in a bruising kiss.
Game on.
House let out a groan of surprise, wobbling slightly at the change in pressure on his leg as Wilson pressed into his space. Wilson nudged House back and bracketed his arms on either side of House’s head, pinning him in place against the wall. Dropping a hand down, Wilson rucked up House’s shirt, seeking skin on skin contact. A low moan filled the air as House dropped his head back against the wall in pleasure.
With a smirk of his own, Wilson took the opportunity to seal their mouths together again.
It was agonizing torture to slowly ghost his lips against House’s, initiating the barest of kisses and then hovering just out of reach. Catching the shiver that raced down House’s spine, Wilson teasingly licked along House’s lower lip. House swore under his breath. Wilson grinned.
“Is this what you wanted?” Wilson said smugly as he ghosted a kiss against the corner of House’s mouth before backing away again.
“Get on with it already. Your foreplay is horrendous,” House grunted.
Huffing out a laugh, Wilson closed the gap and made sure to graze his lips over the pulse point in House’s neck; feeling the flutter against his lips as House’s heart rate kicked up. “You’re right. You’re not enjoying this at all.”
House opened his mouth, most likely to spit out some cutting retort, but Wilson cut him off by crashing their lips together and pushing his tongue into House’s mouth. Stroking his tongue over House’s as their lips fought for control always spurned a groan of approval from House, and today was no different. The shuddering moan that House let out was pressed into Wilson’s mouth and it sparked a burning desire deep in Wilson’s gut.
Licking his way along House’s tongue and then across the older man’s teeth, Wilson focused his attention on the way their lips melded together. The scrape of stubble against his jaw since House hadn’t shaved in almost a week. The way House was leaning up into the hand Wilson had shoved up his shirt, as if being kissed wasn’t enough and he needed more.
And that just wouldn’t do. Not on Wilson’s watch. If House wanted to make out in the janitor’s closet then they’d make out. No need to cop a feel when he could get House to look wrecked and desperate with just his mouth on House’s.
Pulling his palm away from House’s waist, he planted his hand back on the wall so he was bracketing the older man’s head again. House broke the kiss with a glare. “Bad foreplay is better than no foreplay at all.”
“Guess you’re outta luck then,” Wilson replied, and then he was kissing House again. Hurried desperate kisses that led to ragged shallow breaths. The slide of their mouths between pants, tongues dancing together before they broke apart, only to chase each other again moments later was intoxicating. Catching House’s lower lip between his, Wilson slowed the kisses down just so he could crack his eyes open and see the trembles that wracked through House’s body in anticipation. Then he licked his way back into House’s mouth and their lips were slotting together again.
Kissing House was always good, always something Wilson relished, but this was different. Adrenaline pumping, House’s hands in his hair, pulling their bodies flush together so he could rut against Wilson’s hip.
This was ecstasy and Wilson never wanted it to end.
He couldn’t help the little breathy, needy gasps that burned up his throat and were pushed into House’s mouth. Dropping his hands from the wall, he scrambled to unbuckle House’s belt without tearing his mouth away from House’s.
Just as Wilson made a move to slip his hand into House’s pants, a loud beeping filled the air.
”You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” House hissed, fumbling to yank the pager out of his jeans to silence it.
“Don’t you need to-”
“No,” House said through gritted teeth, drawing Wilson back in by his undone tie and sealing their lips together again.
Wilson hesitated for a moment, but then House’s tongue was in his mouth and all thoughts of pagers and cases were gone. Falling back into frantic kisses, Wilson aligned House’s good leg between his thighs and the burning friction was back within seconds as they grinded against each other.
He’d barely managed to get his hands back down to House’s unzipped jeans before the pager was going off again. Biting back a choked off groan, Wilson dropped his head against House’s shoulder as House thumbed at the device.
“There, that should…” House started to say, but his phone ringing shattered the moment.
“For the love of God,” Wilson muttered, pulling back and running a hand through his tousled hair.
House brought the phone to his ear. “Busy right now. Call back in 5.”
Wilson couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the phone, but he could hear the urgency in what he suspected was Foreman’s voice and knew that the game was over.
“Get her prepped for an LP. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Wilson drew in a shaky breath and released it slowly. “If you weren’t just as turned on as I am right now, I’d say this was your plan all along.”
Rolling his eyes, House muttered, “Oh yes, you got me, Wilson. I planned to jump your bones and then leave myself as blue balled as I left you.”
Wilson raised both of his eyebrows suspiciously. “That does sound like something you would do.”
House bent down to grab his cane, then zipped up his jeans as Wilson fixed his shirt and tie.
“Maybe next time you want to make out in the janitor’s closet, don’t do it in the middle of one of your cases.”
“Oh, so you’re expecting a next time, are you?”
Despite the absurdity of the entire situation, Wilson couldn’t help but grin. “Whatever your little plan here was, you didn’t succeed. Nor did you finish what you started. That’s going to eat at you for days.” Brushing his hair back into place with his fingers, Wilson took a step forwards to open the door. “But now I know what game you’re playing. And now it’s my move.”
Ah, the age old question of the night... incredibly niche, freak behaviour, embarrassing tag smut? or 30k feelings realisation and reveal with implied or slowburn smut (this will take hours to find)?
do you think house and wilson went for runs together when his ketamine treatment worked for 5-6 months?
wilson would be overjoyed to see house without pain and taken him on treks, overnight camping trips like they used to pre infarction. they might have even gone golfing together too imagine them doing all this after almost 7 years of not having done any of it with eachother
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship. no more Damian and Danny who have a semi-healthy relationship.
Give me younger brother Danny who is overshadowed by Damian.
Give me a Danny who doesn't know Bruce Wayne is his father because he could never meet his mother's expectations.
Give me Damian who refuses to tell him because Danny needs to earn it.
Give me a Damian who sees Danny as weak because he's more in tune with his emotions, and who absolutely hates him for it.
Give me a Damian who when tasked by grandfather to prune the weak branches of the bloodline he does so with no hesitation.
Give me a Danny who fucking fears Damian and knows that Damian will kill him on the orders of Ras.
Give me a Danny who doesn't fight back because he knows that he can never beat Damian, who accepts his fate.
Give me a Danny who's happy that it was Damian his older brother who gets to kill him.
Give me a Danny who tells Damian that "it had to be you."
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship that even after Danny was put in the Lazarus pits and sent to bumbfuck Illinois and Damian was sent to his father. Danny still fears Damian, and Damian while no longer hating Danny for his preserved weakness resents him for not fighting back and just letting him kill him.
Give me a Danny who's relationship with Damian colors, or at least tint the relationship he has with Jazz.
Give me a Danny who does have a personality of his own and just does what is expected from him because he doesn't want the Fentons to throw him away as the Al Ghuls did.
Give me a Damian who realized that Danny was all the goodness in his family, that would have fit in better with father's side of the family better than him because Danny was the better person.
Give me a Damian who ends up idolizing the memory of Danny and who he could have been.
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship that when they reunite, Danny freaks the fuck out and Damian just freezes.
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship.
My sibling, crashing in my living room. Me watching Criminal Minds in the Dining room.
Me: If the TV bothers you let me know and I'll just turn it off
My sibling: No, don't. Listening to Criminal Minds while I sleep is peaceful
Me: Ha, yeah it's just a reminder of childhood
Bisexual disaster with mommy AND daddy issues who are also in love with their best friend???
Am I talking about Evan Buckley?? Dean Winchester?? Me???? Arthur Pendragon??
wait a minute-
Person of authority, texting: Are you available for a call?
Me: Yes
Person of Authority: *DOESN'T CALL*
Me: *dying noises*
I just want someone to be the Wilson to my House. Or the House to my Wilson. I'll happily change my personality to fit one of you're the other. Doesn't have to be romantic.
Just want that chaotic loyalty, ya know?
Me coded
Eddie Diaz FaceTiming Buck from El Paso like: