I’m Choosing To Take This Personally

this blog is a safe space for your most unhinged james wilson thoughts 🙏

(my asks, comments, and dms welcome you)

the way wilson looks at house is so special to me

i literally cannot stop thinking about this

I always laugh at myself when I look at how I respond to asks vs how I write my regular fics

like I giggle everytime I work on a normal fic now

Robert Sean Leonard as “Dr. James Wilson” in House, M.D. Season 1 promo shots.

1.1k words, cunnilingus, stressed out jimmy

hungry, horned up, stressed wilson can only cope with messy pussy eating. even when he wants to take, he's actually giving. for someone whose an amalgam of neediness and want, he was never good at expressing it, but one day he just breaks down.

"i- i just really need you right now" he basically sighs his words into the emptied glass. a few drops of water trickle down his jaw and chin. the singular kitchen light illuminates his sheer neediness.

"aww baby, of course," you say, as you gesture him to your lap. some semblance of pride swells up in you. you're taking care of wilson. and not the other way round like he always insists. you're proud of him for admitting that he wants you, needs you, for the first time ever.

he rushes near you, opting for the empty spot on the floor beneath your legs rather than the one beside you. he clutches onto your legs like a raft at first. like he's drowning and youre the only thing keeping him afloat. something in your heart sinks seeing him like this. you smooth his soft brown hair, running your hair through his greying streaks. his puppy dog eyes, the gentleness in them.

he whimpers to your touch, nuzzling his face into your lap. shivers run down your back as the sound reverberates in your core. his hands run up and down your calves. you try scratching his back, his neck, his scalp with your nails. his hands start ascending up your legs, now grabbing handfuls of your thighs to knead and grope.

wilson shifts uncomfortably below you. you finally pay attention to his semi. seems a bit painful, honestly. some part of you just wants him to lose control. just this once. fuck whatever it is that bothered him so much into you with whatever energy he may have. god, you want him to use you so bad.

he starts planting wet, desperate kisses onto the inside of your thighs. you instinctively close your thighs around his head, chest heaving with this sudden wave of arousal flowing through you. as he works his way up, a small, almost inaudible "please" escapes his lips amidst the kisses. he's using more teeth now. you slowly stand up and let him undress your lower body. he takes off your shorts and panties in slow tugs and bundles them up to use as padding for his knees. he looks up at you, almost like he worships you, like you're some savior of his. something makes it hard for you to swallow.

wilson tugs you down onto the couch, maybe with a bit more force than he intended, really. his hot breathe makes your joints weak. thoughts of everything he's about to do make it feel like you've lost all control of your muscles.

"wet." he huffs the single syllable between your thighs like a caveman. "so wet."

remarkable observation.

that's all he can mutter out. the sight, the smell, the access; it all made him so hard it ached him. he yanks your cunt closer to his face and gives it a sloppy kiss. you writhe.

his tongue comes next, licking a cold strip on your heat. he buries his face in there, trying to savor your taste on his tongue before going at it again. he taste tests your cunt a couple of times to hear you groan.

but then an unknown devil possesses him. he moves the pace of his tongue from a gentle wine tasting to a rabid feast. god, this man was starved all of a sudden. you yelped in protest, he only moaned into you as a response. every beat resonating through you. he laps you up, tongue reaching front to back and prodding deep inside your hole.

"oh baby, james- i- slower-"

his lips only suckle at your bundle of nerves. your eyes now overflow with tears of burning desire. werent you supposed to help him relax? his nose presses against the hood of your clit, jittering with his exhales that seemed to shake through his jaws too. he was really panting like a dog. all you could do was moan in desperation, your volcanic orgasm burning inside your core, waiting to erupt.

"need it. need you. thank fuck-" he groans into your pussy.

and then he does it. his iron grip on your thigh loosens as he brings his fingers perilously close to your cunt. james- cant- please baby, please rang through you. his sucking, licking and teasing rendered you incapable of putting out any cohesive sentences. you could simply beg. beg for an out, a release to tension building inside of you. his other hand is gone from your thighs too, moved down south to take care of the leaking tent in his office pants.

his little moans leaking out of his pretty lips, coupled with the two fingers inside you and the ever-steady tongue... oh you were about to explode.

"i'm so close, baby, fuckkk- i- i- please keep- ahhh"

a rush flowed through you. you tensed for a moment on his tongue. his fingers. then your spine decompressed. you let go. this felt so good, he felt so good. everything he did.

you tugged on his hair hard. he looked up. what a sight.

his eyes... bit glossy, much like his lips. you could kill him in this moment and he'd thank you, maybe even ask you to do it all over again. his jaw tensed. he looked up at you with an innocence you wouldn't expect from a man who still had two fingers inside you, you slick covering his lips like gloss. he licked them. as much as he hated you for pulling him back to reality in this moment, he could only stare at your flushed face, thanking him for his hard work between your legs with huffs and pants.

a stupid smile tugs at the corners of his glistening mouth. cocky. you like cocky. after all he deserves to feel this way after how he made you feel. he spills his seed in his pants. all after seeing your mouth wide open, cheeks flushed. he did that. he licks your taste off his fingers and wipes his jaw with his forearm. it drives you up the wall.

he gets up to clean you. you look at him with concern in your eyes for a second. is he okay? is this what he needed? certainly what you needed after those long nights being alone. he gets the tissues from the adjacent table.

"i- thank you"

you gape at him. did he just.... thank you?

yes yes and yes

starting a collection

literally give me ONE chance with either of them

or both 🤤🤤

based on that one image on twt idk Sorry...

Robert Sean Leonard in House, M.D. | “Swan Song” (2012).

(more of favorite bobby era to celebrate the conclusion of my semester from hell!)