#wilson at dinner with cuddy

[mossysoupfrog]

Your honor that man is stimming

[sugar-salt-sea]

cuddy lets wilson and house get away with whatever at that damn hospital because they have big eyes and horrible personalities

[thankstothe]

[yomkippur]

when cuddy, house’s serious girlfriend and supposedly the person he’s deeply in love with, asks house point blank to choose between her and wilson and house chooses wilson

[cemetary-shifts]

i love the strange sub-plots in house md because wdym wilson went to dinner with cuddy and house found out and thought it was because she might have cancer but it turns out she was just trying to figure out if wilson would be a viable sperm donor

[redicillin]

Hiiii, could you write smth about reader (part of House's team) and Chase teasing and throwing suggestive comments each other all the time until something actually happens?Thanksss

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬. (𝐫.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞)

whilst your’s and chase’s relationship was… unconventional, you never crossed any true lines. until you did.

CW | 18+ MDNI. afab!reader, definitely not allowed workplace engagements, unprotected piv, porn with plot

fem!reader ☆ 4.3k ☆ masterlist.

The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead as you flip through the patient’s chart, skimming the details of yet another medical mystery.

A 37-year-old woman with an unexplained fever, muscle weakness, and—of course—negative test results for every common diagnosis. House’s kind of case. Your kind of case.

“Could be lupus,” Chase offers, leaning lazily against the back of his chair.

“It’s never lupus,” you counter automatically, not bothering to look up.

“One day, it will be,” he muses, smirking at you. “And when that happens, I’ll personally accept your apology… preferably over dinner,”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the hint of a smirk. “You assuming I’d take you to dinner if you were right is cute. Delusional, but cute,”

“Then I’ll settle for drinks. You can even pretend it’s a pity outing,”

House, who has been listening to your exchange with barely concealed amusement, finally interjects. “I’d tell you two to get a room, but I think you’d rather keep up this foreplay in front of an audience,”

Cameron coughs, Foreman scoffs, and Chase—completely unfazed—shrugs. “If we’re keeping score, I think I’m winning,”

You arch a brow at him, shifting in your seat. “Oh? And what exactly are you winning?”

“The game,” He leans in just slightly, voice dropping enough to sound almost conspiratorial. “You know… the one where you pretend you’re not enjoying this,”

Your pulse jumps for just a second before you scoff, shaking your head. “You wish,”

House claps his hands together, effectively cutting through the moment. “Much as I’d love to watch this unresolved sexual tension play out in real time, we have an actual patient. So unless this is leading to some kind of medically relevant insight, I’d suggest you both channel that energy into something useful,” He pauses, eyes flicking between you and Chase before smirking. “Or at least wait until after work to rip each other’s clothes off,”

Cameron looks deeply uncomfortable, Foreman mutters something about needing new colleagues, and Chase? Well, Chase just winks at you, smug as ever.

Game on.

—

The patient’s condition is getting worse, and House is nowhere to be found—probably off harassing Cuddy or playing mind games with Wilson. That leaves the rest of you huddled around the conference table, sorting through test results.

You tap a pen against your lips, eyes narrowed at the list in front of you. “Her liver enzymes are elevated, but no sign of hepatitis. Negative for Wilson’s disease, negative for autoimmune markers…”

“Could be a parasitic infection,” Cameron suggests, glancing up from her notes.

Chase leans back in his chair, tilting his head toward you. “Sounds messy. I hope you don’t mind getting your hands dirty,”

You shoot him a look. “That depends. Are you offering to be my assistant? Or just my parasite?”

Foreman groans, rubbing his temples. “Oh my God. Can you two just—?”

Cameron nudges his arm before he can finish. “Shh. I have twenty bucks on them cracking by the end of the week,”

You and Chase turn to her at the same time. “Excuse me?”

Cameron shrugs, feigning innocence. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just… kind of obvious,”

Foreman crosses his arms, smirking slightly. “I said a month, but now I’m reconsidering. You two can’t go five minutes without turning everything into an innuendo,”

“You’re imagining things,” you say smoothly, ignoring the way Chase’s knee just barely brushes against yours under the table.

“Yeah,” Chase adds, grinning. “I’d never use a serious medical discussion to flirt,”

You scoff. “Right. Because that would be wildly inappropriate,”

Cameron exchanges a knowing glance with Foreman. “Exactly,”

—

The hospital is quieter at night. The usual hum of activity dulls to an ambient murmur of overnight nurses and the occasional beeping monitor.

You’re in the diagnostics office, reviewing test results while Chase leans against House’s desk, absentmindedly tossing a stress ball in the air.

It’s just the two of you.

“This is the part where I should tell you to go home,” you say, not looking up from the file. “But I know you won’t listen,”

Chase catches the ball in one hand and smirks. “And miss out on the chance to keep you company? I’d never,”

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “What a gentleman,”

He pushes off the desk and moves closer, just enough for you to feel the shift in proximity. “I can be, when it suits me,”

The air is different tonight. He’s always been flirtatious, always toeing the line, but this time, there’s something heavier in the silence that lingers between words.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, neither of you speak. It would be easy to close the gap. To push just a little further.

But you don’t.

Instead, you exhale, shaking your head as you look back down at the file. “You should really get some sleep, Chase.”

He lingers for just a second longer before letting out a soft chuckle. “Yeah,” he murmurs, stepping back. “You too,”

As he leaves the office, you find yourself staring at the door for longer than you should.

—

It’s been one of those shifts where the exhaustion settles deep into your bones, where you feel like you’ve been going nonstop for days, even though it’s only been a few hours.

Chase, ever the one to escape stress with some humor, suggests grabbing drinks. The others quickly agree, but you and Chase end up walking out of the hospital together, the others trailing behind.

You’ve worked together long enough to know the difference between casual group outings and just the two of you.

When you get to the bar, the atmosphere is warm, filled with the sound of low conversations and the clink of glasses. You order your drinks, the chatter flowing easily at first. It’s comfortable—like it always is when you’re with Chase—but tonight, there’s something different. The usual teasing that’s exchanged over the complexities of medicine starts to feel like something else.

“Well, you know, if you were paying attention, I did say we should run the ANA panel last time,” you tease, stirring your drink. You catch him watching you, his expression almost smug, but you don’t break eye contact.

“Oh, I heard you,” he replies, his voice low, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I just didn’t think you were right,”

You tilt your head with a scoff, narrowing your eyes. “But now you do?”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he replies, taking a step closer. “But I think you like the challenge of proving me wrong,”

You lean back in your chair, trying to act unaffected, but your heart races. The space between you has closed in ways you hadn’t expected. “Not everything’s a challenge, Chase,”

He grins, his voice dropping a little further. “Sure about that? Because if you think I can’t keep up with you, I’m happy to prove you wrong,”

It’s playful. It’s always playful, right?

But tonight, there’s an edge to it. A tension that neither of you have addressed, but both of you are clearly aware of.

The way his eyes follow your movements. The way his smile lingers just a second too long on your lips. You feel the weight of his words like a challenge you don’t want to back down from.

It’s subtle, but it’s there—an almost imperceptible shift. You feel it when his hand brushes against yours on the bar. He doesn’t pull away immediately, and neither do you. For a heartbeat, everything around you fades, leaving only the space between the two of you.

It would be easy. So easy.

You could lean in, and he could kiss you, and you wouldn’t need to say a word. You could blame it on the alcohol, or the exhaustion, or just the chemistry that’s been crackling between you for weeks now.

But then, just as quickly as it started, you both pull back.

You laugh—maybe a little too loud, trying to cover up the moment that nearly shattered the wall you’ve both built around yourselves. “You’re an idiot,” you say, a little breathless, fingers tapping nervously on the edge of your glass.

Chase smirks, but there’s something softer in his expression now. “Yeah, well, it’s a good thing you like idiots.”

He leans back, turning his attention to his drink, and the playful banter resumes—but it’s different. There’s an edge to it now, an undercurrent of something else simmering beneath the surface.

Neither of you acknowledges it directly. Instead, you both talk about the case again, acting like nothing has changed. But you both know. Neither of you is fooled.

For the first time, the game isn’t just a game anymore. And it’s only a matter of time before one of you breaks.

—

The next day is a blur of frantic phone calls, lab reports, and running from one department to the next. The case has taken a turn for the worse, and the pressure is palpable.

Everyone is on edge, moving faster than usual, but the answers still aren’t coming. You and Chase work side by side, your minds racing with the mounting frustration.

The stress is starting to take its toll.

You’re reviewing the latest test results when Chase steps closer, his eyes scanning the board. “We’re missing something. There’s got to be a piece we’re overlooking,”

You feel his breath just a little too close, your heartbeat quickening. “Yeah, no kidding,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair. “If I knew what that piece was, I’d have figured it out by now,”

“Don’t snap at me,” he says, voice quiet but teasing. “I’m on your side here,”

You glance at him, frustration flashing in your eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

The tension between you is thick, heavier than it’s been before, each word a spark in the charged air. The room feels too small, too close, the adrenaline turning everything you say and do into something else—something that doesn’t belong in a hospital.

Chase takes a step back, but the distance doesn’t help. He’s still close enough to make your skin feel tight, still close enough for you to hear the quiet beat of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” You sigh, exasperatedly taking your hands through your hair. “I’m just stressed,”

There’s a pause, a breath held in the space between you. Then, without a word, he steps forward, his hand finding your arm.

“You need a break,” he says, his voice low and urgent.

You swallow hard, feeling your breath catch in your throat. “I don’t need a break. I need answers,”

But the words feel hollow even as you say them. You don’t need answers. Not right now.

Before you can think, before you can even process what’s happening, Chase pulls you gently but firmly down the hallway, into a small, empty supply closet.

It’s a tight fit—your back pressed against the cold wall, his body just a breath away. The air in the small room is thick with the same kind of tension that’s been building between you for weeks, but now, it’s palpable. You can feel it in your skin, in the way your breath comes faster than it should.

You give a small laugh. “This isn’t the break room,”

And then, just like that, the moment snaps.

Chase closes the space between you, his lips crashing into yours. It’s not the slow, teasing kiss you expected—it’s urgent, hungry, desperate. All the months of flirtation, the innuendos, the playful jabs, finally culminating in this.

His hands slide to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can’t help but respond, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, and the world outside the closet fades away. There’s only the rush of adrenaline in your veins, the heat of his touch, the way your bodies move in sync, as though they’ve always known this was coming.

His hands slide down your back, pressing you even closer, and for a moment, you forget about the case, forget about everything but this. His lips trail down to your neck, and you let out a soft gasp, heart pounding in your chest.

“Are we really doing this right now?” you breathe, barely able to form the words as your breath hitches in your throat.

Chase pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression intense, searching. “Do you want to?” he asks, voice low, a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

Your mind races, the heat of the moment clouding your thoughts. But you don’t hesitate.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips before you pull him back to you.

The kiss picks up again, but this time, it’s more than just passion. There’s an urgency to it—something unspoken that has been building for far too long.

His hands roam, slipping beneath your shirt, and you don’t stop him. Every touch feels electric, igniting something deep inside you. The adrenaline from the case, the rush of being so close, the need to feel something more than just the constant stress of the hospital… it all comes together in that moment.

You don’t think about the consequences. You don’t think about anything except the way he makes you feel.

But even in the haze of desire, the question lingers. What happens after? What happens when the game is over?

Right now, though, you don’t care. All that matters is the way his lips feel against your skin, the way his hands fit perfectly against you. It’s everything and nothing at once.

And for the first time, you don’t pull away.

Chase is driven insane by the smallest things. The way your fingers curled into his belt-loops to tug him closer. The feel of your nails, scraping over his scalp as your hand slides through his hair. The way you breathe his name as he dips his head, mouthing at the hollow of your throat.

Too much. He thinks, as one hand comes up to curl around your wrist, pinning your hand against the door of the closet. Too much but still not enough.

He’s lost the ability for rational thought. It’s been pushed aside for need, for desire. Your name’s a constant on his lips, a hushed whisper as he presses kisses onto your neck. Teeth skimming over your skin, tongue soothing the light sting.

He finally draws back to meet your gaze. His expression is dark, pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed so pretty. “I want you.” He says it as an absolute truth. As if you don’t already know that by the way his knee is slotted between your thighs.

He watches you. The way your lips part on a breath, an almost involuntary sound falling from them as he draws his knee up. “God, look at you,” He murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, “So pretty already and I’ve barely even touched you,”

His hand slides up the inside of your thigh, his touch almost reverent. The tip of his nose grazes your ear as his fingers dip under the edge of your pants. “Want you. So, so goddamn badly.”

And in contrast to the sweet way he speaks to you, the way he’s touching you is downright dirty. It sets the pit of your stomach on fire as his hand dips lower, cupping you through your panties and giving a slow, testing drag of his palm.

It’s a low, breathy moan that escapes you, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment and your head thumping lightly against the door. “God-“ he groans, “I’m not going to last.” He hooks a finger around the waistband of your pants and tugs them down just enough for him to get a better purchase on you.

He doesn’t even tease. His hand immediately slips under the soft, black cotton of your underwear, his fingers dipping into you in a fluid motion. “God you’re so hot—“ He asks, his breath hot against your ear. “All this for me?”

Your answer comes in the form of a stifled gasp, your hips moving of their own accord to meet his hand. “Chase.” It’s the only word you manage, and it’s half formed, coming out on a whimper. Like you’re pleading.

It’s that sound and your pleading tone that does him in. His breath shudders out of him in a low sound of want. “You’re killing me.” He mutters, his words punctuated by the sound of his belt unbuckling.

He’s impatient, and it’s evident in the way his hand pushes at the fabric of your underwear. There’s nothing romantic about it, no sweet murmurs of sweet nothings or gentle coaxing. It’s needy and desperate and it’s you and that’s all that matters.

He keeps one hand planted on the wood of the door, keeping you pinned in place. The other dips, and the feel of his fingers is immediately replaced by the head of his cock, already leaking as it stretches out your entrance.

A low curse is muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

He moves with purpose, his hips rolling forwards and pushing his length into you in a single steady motion. Chase gives a quiet grunt, his breath coming in shuddering gasps.

The whole thing feels like it’s happening so fast. Too fast. Neither of you are thinking clearly. But it’s you and it’s him and his face is still buried in the crook of your neck and his cock stretches you out so good that it leaves you whining.

His hand drops from the door, shifting to grip one of your thighs and hitch it over his hip. It gives him a different angle, one that he takes full advantage of.

He picks up the pace, and the hand that he’s gripping your thigh with gives it a firm squeeze. “I’ve thought about this.” He whispers, the words almost lost against your skin, “Can’t get you out of my head.”

He’s babbling now, his words low and punctuated by heavy breaths. And you’re so pretty like this, your eyes squeezed shut and your back arched against the door as he takes and takes and takes.

He can’t remember the last time he came so quickly. All it takes is a sound from you, a breathy sigh of his name and he’s done. He lets himself lose control, giving a loud curse as his hips stutter in their motion, desperately trying to pull out despite the instinct to bury his spend inside you.

Instead, it dribbles down the inside of your thighs, coating your skin and your underwear alike.

The moments after are filled with a tense, lingering quiet. Neither of you speaks immediately, neither of you moves to pull away. Your heart is still racing, your mind spinning with everything that just happened.

Chase stands there for a moment, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you catching your breath. But neither of you says anything.

It’s like a flicker, an electric pulse, that connects you both, and then just as quickly as it began, it feels like a weight pressing down. The weight of what just happened, of the unspoken words, of the fact that everything has changed.

“Chase…” You break the silence, your voice a whisper, uncertain. You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, but the question sits heavy on the tip of your tongue. What now?

He steps back slowly, his hands resting at his sides. He doesn’t look at you directly, his jaw tight. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have…”

But the words trail off, unsaid. He doesn’t finish the sentence, and neither do you.

A moment passes, and the world starts to feel like it’s slowly realigning around you both. The air no longer feels suffocating, but it’s thick with the weight of everything you didn’t say. Neither of you makes a move to break the silence. Finally, Chase gives a sharp exhale. “We should get back to work.”

You nod, a little too quickly, still lost in the aftershock. Your fingers graze your lips, still tingling from the kiss and everything after, but you don’t let yourself linger on it. There’s nothing to say.

Not yet.

—

The next day, you and Chase are back in the diagnostic office like nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. The air between you is a little too thick, a little too aware of the space you now share. Every word feels heavier, more loaded. And whenever your eyes meet, it’s like there’s something you both are trying not to acknowledge.

But neither of you says a word.

It’s House, of course, who does notice. He’s always observant, always sharp when it comes to his team’s dynamics. He watches the two of you from across the room with a knowing smirk, almost as if he’s been waiting for this.

“Is it just me,” House drawls, breaking the silence as he slides into the office, “or does it feel like someone’s been… busy?”

You freeze, and you can feel Chase tense next to you. You don’t want to look at him, not with House’s smirk aimed squarely at both of you. You can’t look at him.

“You two should get a room,” House continues, unbothered by the tension hanging in the air. “It’s honestly like a live soap opera around here,”

Cameron, overhearing from the other room, raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on now?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, barely able to keep your cool. “Nothing happened,”

But House just fakes a sigh, fishing out his wallet and holding out a twenty dollar bill in Cameron’s direction. “I guess I owe you twenty bucks,”

You can hear the amusement in his voice as he takes a seat at his desk, eyes gleaming with too much satisfaction. He’s not going to let this go. Not for a second.

“You guys slept together?” Cameron’s voice is a mix between amusement and mortification as she takes the cash, and you groan.

Chase clears his throat and straightens up, trying to salvage some sense of normalcy. “It’s nothing to write home about,”

“Oh but it is,” House says with an exaggerated smirk, leaning back in his chair. “Talk about a HR violation,”

—

The next few days pass in a blur of awkward silences, quick glances, and sidelong looks between you and Chase. Neither of you brings up the supply closet, not once. Instead, you focus on the case, on everything but what happened behind closed doors.

The chemistry between you both is still there, still undeniable, but now it’s wrapped in layers of unspoken words. It’s the elephant in the room you both avoid acknowledging.

And yet, as you work together—closer than ever before, eyes meeting more often than they should, the energy still humming between you—you both know something has shifted. You’re not sure what it is yet.

At one point, when House pushes you to continue working late on a particularly difficult diagnosis, you end up alone with Chase again. The tension between you both feels just as charged as it did that night in the supply closet, but now, it’s thicker. More complex.

Chase stands next to you, looking down at the patient’s chart, but you can feel his gaze flicking toward you, gauging your reaction. His voice is quieter this time, as though testing the waters. “So…”

“So,” you reply, keeping your voice steady, but there’s a nervous edge beneath it.

He sighs, clearly sensing the unease between you. “What do you think? Is this it then?”

You hesitate, the words sitting heavily in your chest. This is the question. What happens now? What happens when the game is over?

You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the flutter of uncertainty in your stomach. “I don’t think it’s just a game anymore, Chase,”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the silence stretches between you both. He doesn’t say anything immediately, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—a mix of hope, uncertainty, and that ever-present challenge.

And in that moment, you realise: neither of you has to have the answer right now.

“You’re right,” he says softly, his lips curling into a smile. “Maybe it’s not,”

And so, the game continues—only now, it’s not a game at all. It’s something else entirely, something neither of you is ready to define yet.

But that’s okay.

[janitorjuliann]

house tells cuddy he cant go to her family birthday dinner bc he has a date with wilson. he tells wilson he cant go out bc he has to have dinner with cuddy's family. they immediately tell each other about this and confront him and make him choose. he chooses wilson. cuddy then informs him that wilson is also coming to her family birthday dinner. psychosexual situationship of all time.

[pasusync]

wilson just coming to dinner with house and cuddy is so funny. like yeah this is my boyfriend and his boyfriend! he has to come along, just ignore him and his yearning for his ex wife.

[theogonize]

house md characters and my valentine's day headcanons <3

house is definitely going to pretend like he does not care for valentines and will go out of his way to act condescendingly about it. even though it genuinely does irk him to see corporates shove "love" themed merchandise down everyone's throats, he would make a sincere effort to get you flowers and something nice. he wouldnt buy you roses (unless it is your favourite, even then he would go out of his way to get them in a rare color) because he wants to be edgy but also thinks a flower you like/ represents you is a better gift. it's really sweet :')

wilson would be prepared in advance. he'd have a dinner reservations at a place you like, huge bouquet of roses on the dinner table first thing, even teddy bears. but in typical dad fashion will act like he forgot all about it when you mention it. "oh oh my god i have a surgery that day" just to see you pout and then surprise you. he's so stupidly cute (😭)

cuddy would defo go shopping with you if she got the time. she'd defo buy you clothes and shoes and everything you need to get dolled up for her. she wants to match outfits really bad. she'd get flowers delivered to your workplace with an elaborate card and everything. dinner at a nice cozy place followed by wine in the bathtub and head 🗣️

chase isn't too much of a bouquet kinda guy. he would much rather spend the day with you rather than do something too elaborate. of course he would buy you anything you ask but he prefers getting the princess treatment himself. he would be into a (disastrous) cooking date where all he does is nibble the ingredients in a corner and sing corny love songs in his heavy accent. he would be all over you physically tho <33

cameron has a binder. she's been planning valentine's day since february 15 of last year. she likes to try the cute things she sees on pinterest and then jot your response to them like you're a patient 😭 "patient tloml enjoys handmade treats and quality time" she's super into crafting/ handmade things (she's so cute)

foreman is a late night skyline view dinner and wine drunk sex kinda guy to me. he does it by the book most of the time. he really would appreciate you doing something for him but he doesn't have expectations from valentine's day. he's moreso obligated. I think he'd be more involved if it was a personal milestone day like anniversary or your birthday, then he'd go all outttt. but he makes sure you have a good time nonetheless. maybe would gift you some jewellery :>

[kittenlittle24]

Fortnight

A/n: First angst!

Btw, gifs aren’t mine! Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

You knew your fiancé had a hard week, a patient with a difficult diagnosis, his mythical ex showed up, and emotions were strung high. Which is why you decided to surprise him at work with a fast food dinner.

Stepping off the elevator, you slowed your a stop upon seeing a brunette leaning to kiss your finance’s cheek. He put his arms around her and closed his eyes.

Your stomach felt like you swallowed a brick. No longer hungry nor caring whether he is or isn’t, you turned in the spot and went straight home. You tossed the untouched takeaway bag onto the counter, grabbed a pen and paper, followed by a suitcase.

It took you a good hour or two to pack your necessities, you figured you could ask Wilson for help with anything else that you were leaving behind. You took one last look around, tears streaming down your face before you locked the door and left.

When House arrived home, he quietly entered the apartment assuming you were fast asleep. All he wanted was to crawl into bed, curl up in your warm embrace, and forget about Stacy or the fact that Cuddy offered her a job. His brows furrowed when he saw the closed paper bag on the kitchen counter, he opened it to see food for two, did you go to sleep without eating?

Going back to the living room he took a drink from his whiskey and threw his cane aside before trying to take a step with his right leg. As soon as he put his weight on it a yelp escaped from his lips, crashing to the floor as his leg gave out underneath him, he caught the armchair to break his fall. Lifting himself to sit on the leather chair, he immediately took his Vicodin bottle and tossed a pill into his mouth.

“Y/n?” He called, hoping you’d wake up and help him move to your bed.

Crap, he thought when no reply came from the darkened hallway.

He waited till the pill started to work and the pain subsided a tad before he pushed himself up and extremely slowly even to his standards, made his way to your shared bedroom.

His body froze upon seeing the made-up, empty bed.

“Fuck.” He whispered and sat on your side of the bed.

Sighing and rubbing his hands down his face, he looked at your bedside table and saw the note and your ring on top.

He picked them up with gentle hands as if any unnecessary touch would harm the objects.

‘I’ve seen the way Stacy and you look at each other, and it’s killing me to know that you’d never love me as much as I do you.

You love her and I cannot be in second place.

I love you, but I’m scared it will ruin both of our lives.

Please, don’t be angry I took the coward’s way out. I just know had I stayed you would’ve talked your way to convince me it’s all in my head,”

Taking a deep breath, “It’s not in your head.” He admitted to no one.

He didn’t bother reading the rest, instead, he picked up his phone and called Wilson.

“House, it’s the middle of the nigh-“

Staring at the glistening ring in his hand, “Y/n left.”

[unacknowledgeable]

House!Reader x Bruce Wayne

I’m watching House MD so now you all get to suffer with me

I can't decide whether House!reader went to school with Bruce or worked with Thomas Wayne, (kinda leaning towards the latter honestly) either way Bruce WILL be dealing with daddy issues here, mkay? Mkay-

“Yes, tonight works… 8 o’clock? Mm fine, I'll see you there… I can drive myself, thank you… yes I’m sure… bye.” 

The silence in the office rings louder than ever after you finally hang up on the man, sliding your palm down your face as a groan escapes you. Why you agreed to this ‘purely professional totally not a date’ (his exact wording, might you add) date, is beyond you.

“And here I thought you hated Bruce Wayne.” Wilson chimes in, sipping his coffee in the chair positioned in the corner of your office, having come in not long before the call took place.

“I do,” the words slipped off your tongue, barely sparing him a glance as you moved back to the copious amounts of paperwork piled atop your desk, “your point?” 

Pretending to be far more interested in his mug, he shrugs, “Just, accepting a dinner invitation doesn’t exactly scream hate, is all,” Wilson glances up at you, a brow raised, clearly a silent accusation.

Barely holding back a sigh, you drop whatever file your holding in favor of standing, taking your cane and pushing past the glass door of your office, knowing Wilson will inevitably follow, “He basically funds half this hospital, besides Cuddy would sooner push me down a flight of stairs then let me jeopardize her biggest investor,“ is your reply.

The reasoning is sound enough, anyone else would have just accepted it and moved on. Anyone who wasn’t Wilson, that is.

“We both know her threats of violence haven’t stopped you from making an ass of yourself before, so what's the real reason?” he falls into step with you, matching your pace as you make your way to the elevators across down the hall.

 You glance at him as the both of you stop in front of the heavy metal doors, clicking the “down” button before turning to him completely, “Would you believe me if I said a sudden wave of nostalgia took over?” 

His amused scoff is answer enough. 

“Right,” he says, smirking behind his mug as he takes a long swig of coffee, “because you’re so famously known for being at the whims of your emotions.” The mirth in his voice is clear and you can’t help but think he’s finding this far funnier than he should be.

The elevator dings as it arrives, cutting you off before you can shoot back whatever clever quip you had in store, the doors opening to an empty box that you step into instead of dignifying Wilson with a response.

“If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Wilson, I seem to have a date I need to get ready for,” you say as you turn to click the button for the first floor, content that you could finally end this line of questioning in favor of a quiet drive home to begin planning how to navigate the inescapable night of terror you were in for.

The doors however, do not shut, and you look up from the panels of buttons to see Wilson holding  them open, averting his gaze and kneading his bottom lip between his teeth. You clear your throat, a quiet way of asking what he wants, to which he sighs, looking at you with rare earnesty.

“Seriously, are you really okay with letting Cuddy basically pimp you out just for some more hospital funding?” it's a crude way of asking if you were alright, but touching nonetheless, and like hell were you going to let him get away with being so sappy.

Shifting your cane in front of you so you could lean forward, clasping both hands on the crook, a  devious grin spreads across your face, head tilted as you speak,

“If pimping me out gets me off clinic duty? Oh, absolutely.” The elevator doors shut as Wilson's startled laughter rings out through the halls. 

~Masterlist~

[vigilante-3073]

In desperate desperate need for more house x reader fics! Maybe a part two to the pregnancy one?

Signs & Symptoms

Gregory House x Female Psychiatrist Reader

Part 2

Summary: Y/N and House share the news of their engagement with those closest to them and an issue with the pregnancy reveals a hidden history.

TW: Mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy symptoms/pregnancy issues/miscarriage, engagement, friendships.

Y/N and House made their way into the hospital, he smirked when he noticed his fiancée looking into the clinic discreetly.

"She's in her office. Go tell her," House said.

"Okay," Y/N said happily, rushing off into the clinic to tell Cuddy.

House continued on across the lobby, pressing the elevator button and waiting for it to arrive. He stepped inside when the doors parted and pushed the number for his floor. He rode up with a soft smile on his face, making his way to his office and taking off his coat. House grabbed the file from on top of his desk and sat down in his chair as he looked through the paperwork.

Wilson walked into the conference room before quickly spotting House in his office and stepping inside.

"You got engaged?" Wilson asked.

House nodded, "Y/N is downstairs asking Cuddy to be her maid of honor," House said.

"Congratulations. You two are really good together," Wilson said.

"Thanks," House nodded, eyes shifting behind Wilson. Chase, Cameron and Foreman filed into the conference room and took their seats at the table.

"Do you want to go out for dinner tonight with the fiancée? My treat," Wilson offered.

"Talk to said fiancée. If she says yes then we'll go," House said, standing up from his chair and grabbing his cane. He picked up a stack of copied patient files from his desk.

"I'll ask her and get back to you," Wilson nodded, making his way out of the office.

House stepped into the office, tossing the files onto the table in front of his underlings. The three doctors each took a file and began looking through it as House wrote out the symptoms on the whiteboard.

"Oh and before the news eventually reaches your delicate ears, I'm engaged," House said dismissively, eyes still focused on the board.

"You're engaged?" Cameron questioned.

"Is this real?" Chase asked.

"Yeah, I'm in premarital bliss," House said.

"Congrats," Foreman replied.

"Congratulations," Cameron said.

"Yeah, congratulations," Chase nodded.

"Thank god we covered that. Let's move on," House said, returning to the case.

...

House looked up when he noticed Y/N walking down the hallway by his office, she slowed to a stop outside the door. House could tell from the look of distress on her face that something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Get me a lumbar puncture and talk to Wilson if you can't find anything," House stated. Cameron, Foreman and Chase looked between each other before standing up and making their way out of the office.

Cameron gave Y/N a soft smile as she passed her, Chase and Foreman offered a polite nod. They could tell that it wasn't the time for congratulations.

House stepped out of the conference room after them, "What happened?" He asked.

"The baby isn't moving. I-I felt them this morning, but I haven't felt anything in three hours," Y/N mumbled shakily, eyes welling up with panicked tears.

"Did you try juice? The sugar makes them move," House said.

Y/N nodded, "Nothing," She replied.

"Come with me," House said, making his way down the hallway.

She followed him to the elevator, he pressed the button and they got in when the doors parted. House pressed the button for the main level at least seven times before the doors closed.

The ride down was silent. House stepped out when the doors opened, leading Y/N across the lobby and into the clinic.

"House, how nice of you to finally join us," Cuddy said sarcastically before looking up from her file. The woman's face fell when she saw that Y/N was with him.

"What's going on?" Cuddy asked.

"Baby isn't moving," House said.

"Exam room two," Cuddy said quickly, stepping out from behind the desk.

House rested his hand on Y/N's back and walked her to the exam room. Cuddy followed closely behind them, she closed the door and moved to stand by Y/N's side as she hopped up on the table.

House turned on the ultrasound machine as Y/N laid back and pulled up her shirt. House grabbed the bottle and squirted some gel onto her belly. He took a breath as he pressed the probe to her stomach and glided it through the gel.

Cuddy held onto Y/N's hand, her other hand settling on the young woman's shoulder as they waited. House clicked a few buttons and the soft thump of their baby's heart filled the room.

Y/N whimpered, lifting her hand to her mouth as she began to sob. Cuddy smiled softly, her own eyes glossing over with tears they listened to the heartbeat.

House exhaled, shoulders relaxing as he continued to move the probe around and press a few buttons. His eyes remained focused on the screen as he looked over the image.

"The baby is okay," Cuddy assured happily.

"I couldn't feel her. I-I thought I lost them again," Y/N sobbed.

House stiffened, keeping his eyes on the screen despite feeling Cuddy's eyes on him, "You've had a loss before?" She asked softly.

"Three... Two were first trimester, last one was seventeen weeks," House stated.

"I'm so sorry," Cuddy said. House nodded, returning the probe to its place on the machine and grabbing a tissue from the box.

House wiped the gel from Y/N's skin and pulled her shirt down over her bump. He took her hand and helped her sit up as she struggled to calm herself down.

Cuddy quickly hugged her friend, "Your baby is okay. They're strong and healthy," Cuddy assured, rubbing her hand over Y/N's back.

Y/N gripped onto her friend, breath stuttering as tears rolled down her cheeks.

House printed some sonogram photos from the machine, staring down at the photos silently. Cuddy pulled away from the hug, hand staying on Y/N's back to comfort her.

"She's okay, right?" Y/N asked.

"She's fine," House nodded, holding out the sonogram to her.

Y/N took it with a soft sniffle, wiping her tears as she took a few steadying deep breaths. Cuddy smiled, looking down at the photo of her friend's child.

"Thank you for checking on her. I-I just couldn't feel her anymore and I didn't know what to do," Y/N said.

"Yes, you did... You tried the juice and came to find me when it didn't work. That's exactly what you're supposed to do," House stated.

Y/N held out her hand to him, House took her hand and stepped closer to his fiancée. He pressed a kiss to her temple, guiding her body to lean against his chest.

"Take her home," Cuddy advised softly.

"No, I'm okay," Y/N said.

"Go home... You just went through something really scary and you should rest. Don't push yourself too far, not today, okay?" Cuddy said.

Y/N nodded, "Thank you, Cuddy," She said.

"Of course," Cuddy smiled. She stepped out of the exam room and closed the door, giving the couple some privacy.

...

Y/N was asleep in the bedroom as House watched tv quietly in the living room. A soft knock sounded on the door, House grabbed his cane and stood up before making his way over. He looked through the peephole briefly, he stepped back and opened the door to reveal Wilson standing in the apartment hallway.

"Hey, Cuddy told me about what happened and I thought you guys could use a home cooked meal... I'll cook and clean up afterwards, but if you want some alone time, I totally get it," Wilson offered.

House stepped aside, allowing Wilson to enter their apartment, "She's asleep in the bedroom so try and keep the noise down," House said.

Wilson nodded, he made his way into the kitchen and set his bags down. He pulled a wrapped bouquet from one of the bags, "I got these for Y/N if you want to trim them and put them in some water," Wilson said.

House nodded, taking the wrapped bouquet from his friend. They worked silently, the only noise being the soft chatter from the television in the next room and knives on cutting boards.

House peeled and chopped the vegetables as Wilson prepared the chicken before putting it in the oven.

"I got it from here. Go sit," Wilson said.

"You sure?" House questioned, Wilson nodded.

House returned to the couch after helping with the vegetables and flowers. House managed to get through an episode of a sitcom before he heard the bedroom door open.

Y/N shuffled down the hallway, House stood up from the couch and made his way over to her.

"You okay?" He asked, she nodded.

Y/N slid her arms around him, leaning into his body and resting her head on his chest. House wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Is the baby still moving around?" House asked.

Y/N reached behind herself and grabbed his wrist, sliding his palm to rest on the side of her belly. He felt a gentle thump against his palm and he smiled.

"Never been so happy to feel her continuously kickboxing my bladder," Y/N said.

"I can imagine," House nodded, brushing his thumb across her bump.

Y/N lifted her head when she heard a noise coming from the kitchen, "What's going on?" She asked softly.

"Wilson came over to cook dinner for us," House said.

"Oh, that's sweet of him...I'm gonna go say hi," Y/N replied, House nodded.

He watched as she made her way into the kitchen, she talked to Wilson and gave him a quick hug before being promptly kicked out of the kitchen.

Y/N sat down on the couch beside House, he laid a blanket across their laps and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Y/N sighed, settling into his side and watching the television.

"Do you want me to change the channel?" He asked.

"No, this is fine," Y/N replied.

Wilson finished cooking and plated up the food, setting them down on the breakfast bar. He opened a bottle of sparkling cider and filled three glasses.

"Dinner is served," Wilson said.

House stood up from the couch, turning around and taking Y/N's hands to pull her to her feet. They joined Wilson at the breakfast bar and shared a meal before toasting to the couple's engagement.

Their friends had rallied around them in support and it was definitely something that they needed. The engagement and the possibility of losing their child made the day a whirlwind, but they had some incredible people who were willing to support them through it. Y/N was definitely the sole reason that half of the people maintained a relationship with him, but House was thankful either way.

The possibility of having something wrong with the baby made House panic. He didn't know if they would ever recover from such a crippling loss. Y/N had always wanted to be a mother, but she had given up on the idea after their third loss.

When House suspected that Y/N was pregnant again, she was quick to dismiss him. After he tested her and found the results to be positive, he was cautiously optimistic. House had never thought about having children before he met Y/N and he finally understood why.

Y/N was the person he was meant to be with, he would marry her and she would be the mother of his children. House made a decision that he would do everything in his power to support her and never let her down.

[queerfables]

'Wilson' as an episode fucking slaps. I'm obsessed with Wilson's complete lack of boundaries and I'm obsessed with the way he acts out to express resentment while still being completely incapable of saying no. He gave a patient part of his liver!! The man is in no way hinged.

For all the emphasis that gets placed on Wilson's failed marriages and infidelity, we don't ever actually see it directly on screen. This is a narrative choice I love, for the record. We see Wilson's relationships through House's eyes and it allows us to understand Wilson as a deeply flawed person without ever making him unlikable, because Wilson's flaws and contradictions are what make him irresistible to House. It's so effective, the way these failed relationships say so much about Wilson's character while being constructed largely out of inference.

In this episode, though, we watch his inability to self advocate play out in real time, and I guarantee that this is what every one of his relationship meltdowns looked like from the inside. On some deep fundamental level, James Wilson doesn't believe "I don't want to" is a valid reason not to do something. You know the fantasy trope of an obedience curse, where the victim is inescapably compelled to obey other people's requests? Wilson casts that spell on his own damn self, and he'll hold true to it even to the point of violating his own bodily autonomy. When you lack boundaries like that, it becomes almost impossible to even know what you truly want, let alone to act on it. So Wilson says yes and yes and yes until it breaks him, and then he still can't say no.

When saying yes feels like surrendering to torture and saying no feels like committing murder, the only option left is escape. So Wilson goes out drinking to trash the liver he's going to donate. He gets dinner with the pretty nurse instead of going home to his wife. All of it is him scrabbling at the bars of his cage. And the irony is that the cage is unlocked, he just has to walk through the open door, and that's the last thing he could ever bring himself to do.

I'm pretty sure that when he went to Cuddy and told her his plan to donate, he wanted her to say no. She almost did! And I think she should have, because her first impulse was right, it is insane. Unfortunately this is the Insane Lack of Boundaries Hospital, and she can't actually be expected to guess when her employee's mouth is saying yes but his eyes are saying dear god no. By the rules of universe that House MD operates within, this doesn't even break a 7 on the "unhinged measures to save a patient" scale, and Wilson invoked the power of friendship. What was she supposed to do?

And through all of this, House is the person Wilson lashes out at. I love, love, love that House is the person Wilson lashes out at. Wilson can't even admit to himself that he's angry about the position he's in. How can he be angry when he's the reason the patient needs a new liver? But House sees right to the heart of everything going on with him, and he says all the things Wilson wants to be true and can't afford to believe. Because if he lets himself believe this wasn't his fault then he might not be able to say yes. And he's going to say yes. And he hates that he's going to say yes. And he hates that House knows he's going to say yes.

So he gets angry with House, because it's safe to get angry with House. He lashes out, because with House, he can. He tells House he's wrong about him, and demands House move out, and that's not at all what he really wants but he feels helpless and coerced and he desperately needs to exercise some kind of control over his own life. The fact that he can let go like this with House is in part about knowing House isn't ever going to leave him - the closeness of their relationship is always defined by what Wilson wants, House has never once pushed Wilson away and fights to reconcile when Wilson wants distance. But it's also about knowing that he can't hurt House by setting boundaries with him. Mostly this is because House will walk right over any boundaries he considers unacceptable, but in fairness, the fact that House is kind of a terrible person is part of his appeal. If Wilson had issues around other people violating his stated wishes, House would be the last person in the world that he should have anything to do with. But Wilson's issues lie in the fear that not being compulsively available and accommodating to everyone around him might permanently fuck up the life of someone he loves. House's fucked up life is never going to be Wilson's fault and even if it was House would still kind of deserve it, so Wilson's anxious people pleasing compulsion can chill the fuck out for five minutes at a time.

I don't want to idealise, there are times in their relationship when Wilson absolutely makes fucked up sacrifices for House. I don't think it's the case that he earnestly wanted to every time. But it's also true that House brings out authenticity in Wilson that few other people manage to. House knows him. House allows him to give in to his selfish impulses without guilt and consequences, and for all the people who love the best in him, House knows and loves his worst. While Wilson is caught up in trying to bend himself into whatever shape someone else needs him to be, what House wants more than anything is the truth. For Wilson, who is so out of touch with his own desires, being an object of fascination to someone obsessed with drives and motivations must be a rush. And if we accept the throughline of this episode, it might just be the case that House's boundary pushing and obsession is something Wilson needs.

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

so 5x21 ends with a montage of couples that happens to rather pointedly include house and wilson and i am. just curious what my takeaway here is supposed to be as a viewer

also

i know my hilson brainrot is real because when they made the Choice to cut directly from that cute hilson dinner scene to the scene of Cameron and Chase holding hands and telling Cuddy about their engagement. there was a split second in which i very nearly thought the couple holding hands was house and wilson

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x Reader (no pronouns used)

SUMMARY — James comes home just in time to help with dinner

WARNINGS — one almost dirty joke

NOTE — This is a request from the winner of my fic lottery @anayame The concept was so cute to write and I hope you like it!

Middle picture credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

It had been a while since James could confidently say he had come home to the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen. The sound of onions sizzling and sauces bubbling was like a fanfare welcoming and inviting him into the space. 

“Hey, you got back home just in time,” he heard your voice call from the kitchen. “I need an extra pair of hands, get in here.” 

“Normally when people say that it means the food is already finished cooking,” James teased, after having taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves so that you could put him to work. 

“And let you miss out on this fun?” you scoffed. “No way.” 

“Where do you need me?” he asked, coming to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Cause I’m more than happy to just keep doing this.” 

“Ease up, lover boy,” you chuckled. “Steak needs searing and I know how particular you get about your perfect medium.” 

“Steak, are we celebrating?” he asked. 

“Yes, the fact that you made it home on time for dinner,” you looked over at him to gauge his reaction and he couldn’t fight back a smile and shook his head. 

“How was work?” he asked, side-stepping your comment. 

“My arch-nemesis is an eight-year-old named Justin, how do you think work went?” you asked and James laughed at your response. “I’m kidding, it was alright, Justin has a cold so he wasn’t in class today.” 

“I’m excited to come in for career day and meet all these eight-year-olds that occupy every story you tell,” he said. “Who knows, maybe Justin will like me.” 

“I doubt it, he only likes his friend Asante and even then sometimes Asante still gets caught up in his whirlwind. Kind of like you and House actually.” 

“I do not get caught up in his whirlwind,” James looked at you, offended, and you looked over at him to ask if he was serious. 

“You lied to the police for him, you most definitely got caught up in it.” 

James opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but shut it seeing as you had made a very valid point. 

“How was your day at work?” you asked. “Did Cuddy finally approve that expansion for the playroom?” 

“Not quite yet, but I think I’m almost there. Maybe if I throw House under the bus when he goes behind her back that’ll sweeten the deal,” he thought to himself. 

“But at what cost, House is gonna fight back and you’re gonna regret every decision you ever made.” 

James weighed his options before giving up and saying he’d decide what to do about it later. 

You moved over to the stove where James was to pour some pureed tomatoes into the onions frying on the stove to make a sauce to go on the side with the vegetables and the steak. What you didn’t realize is that James, in his haste to turn down the heat on the stove, would knock the spoon out of your hand, making it fall in the dish and making the tomatoes splatter all over your shirt. 

“Oh my God,” James’ eyes went wide, seeing the splotch on your shirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I should have known having you in the kitchen would only result in disaster,” you teased, not at all upset by the mess. “It’s nothing a little TLC can’t take care of.” 

“Can I make it up to you?” James asked. “I know how much you liked that shirt.” 

You used your finger to scoop off some of the pureed tomato off your shirt and place it on his nose. 

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked with raised brows. 

James wiped the sauce off his nose before grabbing your sleeves and giving you a signal with his eyes for you to slip your arms out of them before he helped pull the shirt off your head without contaminating anything else, leaving you in a thin tank top. 

“I think you’re just making it up to yourself,” you laughed, looking down at what you were wearing. 

“If I were making it up to myself, I would have done this,” he took the spoon out of the tomato sauce and flicked it at you, now getting your undershirt dirty. “Oops.” 

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that,” you shook your head and just to spite him you kept the tank top on even though it was dirty. 

By then the butter in James’ pan had melted and was beginning to bubble so he turned his attention back to the stove so that he could begin searing the steak. You cooked in tandem for a while, and once the steak was cooked James stole a few kisses from you, apologizing again for your shirt and you assured him he could take it off later if he really wanted to. 

“Do you want me to set the table?” James asked, after washing his hands and having set the steak off to the side. 

“That would be nice, it could be like a little home date,” you smiled while putting some potatoes in the oven to cook. 

You watched as James dug around the cupboards for a tablecloth and candles, carefully setting everything up on the dining room table so that it was just right. 

Slowly, one by one, the dishes made their way onto the table as they were ready and when everything was set up you looked down at yourself and wondered if maybe you were a bit underdressed. 

“Maybe I should change into something a little nicer,” you said while James lit the candles on the table. 

“Change, what for?” 

“I’ve got tomato all over my shirt, James. I thought that one was pretty obvious.” 

“No, I mean this is a home date, isn’t the whole point that it can be as messy as we want it to be?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t have to wear this tie,” he pointed to it as he came closer to you, prompting you to take it between your fingers and feel the fabric before helping him untie it and throw it off to the side. 

You unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and for good measure he took a spoon of the sauce and poured it on his shirt. 

“There, we match.” 

“And need to do a load of laundry after this,” you chuckled and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. “I love you, and I love cooking with you.” 

“Me too, to both of those things,” James agreed and you grinned before turning him around and pushing him in the direction of his seat, insisting that you were starving and needed to eat. “So, I was thinking,” James started while serving you some sides. 

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” 

“I was thinking,” he repeated. “Our anniversary is coming up. Do you want to do something special?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “We could both take a sick day,” you suggested. “Or a few, go up to Connecticut, rent a cabin.” 

“Cook all day,” James teased and you smiled. “I think that sounds like a great plan. We’ve always talked about doing something like that haven’t we?” 

“Yeah, it just…I don’t know, never seemed like the right time.” 

“You sure you won’t miss your kiddos too much?” he asked. 

“As much as I love them, a few days just the two of us is too enticing to pass up,” you sipped your drink. 

Eating dinner was not nearly as fun as cooking it together, but you both made do with what you could and James stories were nothing short of interesting especially when they included House and his team. 

“Alright, I think I’m stuffed now,” you leaned back in your seat. “But we should clean this up before I go into a food coma.” 

“I wash, you rinse?” James asked. 

“We have a dishwasher, James,” you chuckled. 

“I know, I just thought you might want to spend more time, but I know when my company isn’t wanted,” he feigned offence. 

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” you let out a small laugh. “Alright, I’ll suffer through dishwashing for you, Wilson.” 

“Just for that, you’re washing and I’m rinsing,” he gave you a look and you conceded, standing up from the table and clearing the leftovers before getting started on what was in the sink. 

“James, be careful with that, you’re accidentally spraying water all over me,” you nudged him with your hip. 

“Oh sorry I meant to actually spray water all over you,” he turned the moveable faucet in your direction and you gasped when the water hit your shirt. “I mean you did say we needed to do laundry.” 

“Is this why you wanted to wash dishes? To get me wet?-I heard it James don’t you dare make a comment,” you immediately amended and he fought back a chuckle. 

“I love you,” he smiled again and you wished he would wipe that stupid grin off of his face because it made it really hard to be annoyed with him. 

“You think you can just say I love you and it’s gonna make it all better?” you asked. “Cause you’re right, it is,” you grabbed his face with your soapy hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, sandwiched between smiles and chuckles. 

To say you both looked ridiculous by the end was an understatement, but James couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun at dinner and it became very clear that maybe he needed to come home a little early more often.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

[weird-an]

There's a giant bouquet of red roses on his desk. Wilson instantly closes the door to his office, turning around to squint his eyes at House's suspiciously blank expression.

"Are those some patient's flowers?" he asks, brow raised.

He should be upset, but instead he's confused. House doesn't do that - candle light dinners, chocolates and rose petals on the bed. It's fine, because Wilson doesn't need it. He's old enough, he can light a candle on his own.

"What flowers?" House's eyes grow bigger like in one of the mangas he always reads and Wilson pretends to hate.

Wilson pushes the door ajar.

"These ones."

House whistles. "That must have cost a fortune. Seems like you got a secret admirer, Jimmy."

Down the hallway, Wilson might hear someone shout "I swear I brought you flowers, babe", sounding suspiciously like Chase. Stealing from his team. Outrageous.

"Thank you." He's not sure if being with House made him more of an asshole or if they're a match made in hell. Cuddy always assures him it's both not the case, but her exhausted face tells him the truth he chooses not to see.

"Happy Valentine's, House." Wilson opens the door again, heart fluttering a little. He grins. "I just planned to blow you in my office."

"Poor me," House sighs, already unbuttoning his pants while still in the hallway. Which is outrageous, too. Wilson lies to himself a lot.