#dr walsh

[supermegahijabi]

[thedarkesthistories]

has paid off their student loans: robinavitch, walsh

has some loans left but is on a good payment plan: collins, santos

has over a 100k in loans: whitaker, ellis, langdon, mckay, mel

never had student loans: javadi, garcia, mohan (scholarship) + bonus: the army paid for school for abbot(t).

has about 700k in loans and ignores the governments threat letters: shen

[i-am-dead-inside-666]

9/10 woman are lesbians is a statistical error, the Yuri Hospital also known as Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Centre is an outlier and should not have been counted

[aphrvdisiac]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘,

𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑮𝑼𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮.

synopsis : you hate emery walsh, and you know she hates you too. you think she’s too egotistical, and she berates you any chance she gets, believing you’re too weak to be on the night shift crew. on a night out with a few people from the day and night crew, you two clash — and show how much you truly hate one another.

tags : adult language. mentions of tobacco use, alcohol consumption. mean!emery walsh (like full on bully). straight to the point; strong adult content such as spit, dracyphilia, heavy degradat!on, slap, mat pressing, strap usage, edg!ng, secondary penetrat!on. there is no aftercare so please take that into consideration.

author’s note : this fic is only for 18+. first emery fic kinda nervy

everyone is repeatedly telling you that emery and yourself need to settle the dust, hash out your differences.

it sounded easy, nice, but she made it impossible. the moment you made your way from the day crew into the night crew, she scoffed at anything you said, finding an exact moment to press your buttons — it didn’t matter if you were trying to revive a patient, a snarky remark would come from her mouth, straight to you.

the first few months of working with the night shift, you tried to wrap your head around what her exact issue was with you. you tried to be on endless occasions to be civil and respectful, even maintain a safe space, but you realized that would get you nowhere, not with someone like her.

it was like that for a year. a year of torment, rude commentary, and scoffs — you stood on top of it all, knowing you’d find a way to eventually transition to another hospital once abbot could write you a stellar recommendation letter.

you only had about two more hours left of your shift before you could go home for your day off, and be free from emery, at least looking forward to the next night being spent with your friends.

another patient had come through the ambulance bay and into the trauma room, blood seeping out after they’d been brutalized in a car accident.

“we’re going to need to intubate,” you said, abbot and ellis checking out the victim, the nurses inserting ivs into them, attaching them to the heart monitors.

“he’s going to need immediate surgery,” shen stated, and you already knew what he was going to say next. “call walsh, tell her they need to start prepping.”

“i’m not giving the call,” you mumbled, and ellis seemed to be the only one who heard you, taking it on herself to call up the OR.

you wished she’d just stay upstairs, but she somehow found herself trickling down to the trauma bay where the patient was stabilized for the moment, a smug smile hanging on her lips.

“glad to see you didn’t fuck up,” emery spat, glancing at you as you were throwing away your gloves.

she found any reason to come down, any excuse, and it was all to get another jab into you.

“i do much better than you,” you said, standing feet away from her. “i recall you fucking up a suture just the other day.”

“knock it off, both of you,” abbot spoke up, and you and emery looked over at him. “it’s annoying, it’s unprofessional. fix your shit.”

“it’ll start once she transfers somewhere else,” emery hoped, and you flipped her off. “see that? we can’t have that behavior in our hospital.”

“i don’t know what your problem is, but it is one sided at this point. go do your job,” you said, purposely bumping her shoulder as you walked past her and out of the room.

she scoffed, looking over her shoulder, and back at everyone in the room. “can she go back to day shifts?” she wondered, and shen chuckled, shaking his head. “okay, fine. the operating room will be ready for him in five minutes.”

emery moved out of the room, not hesitating to approach you. her feet were basically booming hooves to you, and you inhaled sharply to gather patience before turning around to face her.

she gave you that cruel smile, one that twitched with sarcasm and bitterness. she was coming to get a reaction out of you, anything she could swallow to give her energy for the rest of her shift.

“what can i do for you, dr. walsh?” you asked, turning off the tablet, slipping it in between your arm.

“bringing up a mistake during a procedure was highly inappropriate,” she started, and you hummed. “your incompetence would probably kill a patient.”

you could hit your head against the tablet in front of her, but you knew that’d give her too much pleasure because she’d know she drove you to that point.

“do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “being rude and disrespectful as a surgeon is inappropriate.”

“you’re the one who has a mouth on her,” she seethed, and you simply shrugged.

“you and i have nothing further to say to each other,” you said, making sure to get completely out of her eye sight, yet she kept her eyes on your figure until you completely faded away.

you were beyond thankful you had a night off and could be with your friends, who had to endure another endless rant about how much your coworker hated you.

it’s not that it bothered you, but ever since you started working in the night, you tried to come up with any reason why she could dislike you.

but you two worked in different departments and only saw each other when it came to a patient needing immediate surgery — that was it.

“there’s always just going to be someone at work who just has no reason to not like you,” whitaker stated, taking a sip of his bottled beer. “yet, she is being excessive about it.”

“i just don’t get what her problem is,” you said, sipping on your glass of wine. “i steer out of her way, i follow any orders, and i just mind my business. yet, she still hates me.”

“walsh is known for being ruthless,” victoria told you as santos was shuffling the game cards again. “i think she finds any excuse to come terrorize you. have you thought of reporting it?”

“and be classified as a narc? absolutely not,” you answered, shaking your head. “i also don’t think human resources would care.”

“just switch back to the day shift,” whitaker chimed in, and you shrugged. “i know it’s more chaotic, but at least you’ll be away from her.”

“i think walsh would purposely switch to the day shift if she did that,” santos added, laying the cards flat down on the restaurant table. “i don’t think she hates your guts — i think she wants to be in them.”

you choked on your wine, violently coughing and covered your mouth with a napkin. “what are you on about!” you said, and victoria handed you her glass of water. “i don’t think she’s even gay.”

“i thought garcia wasn’t either, and look at how that turned out,” santos reminded, and you rolled your eyes.

“garcia uses you and eats all your ramen,” you added, and santos glared at you. “i don’t think emery wants anything like that — i think she just genuinely hates me.”

“and i think we’re all violating hippa by having sexual contact with our older workers,” whitaker stated, and you amusingly hummed, nodding. “victoria is dating cassie, santos is hooking up with garcia, and for me—”

“you’re hooking up with two older attendings,” you continued, grinning at him. “you’re greedy for that.”

“can you find out, trin?” victoria asked, and santos snorted, stifling a laugh.

“yeah, i’ll ask the next time garcia is in me,” she said, sipping on her beer. “i’ll be like, ‘hey babe, do you know if walsh is gay?,’ while she’s pile driving me.”

“i always wondered who was wearing the strap,” you joked, and she playfully kicked your leg under the table. “i bet you she’s straight, and just likes to torment me. i think i’ll ask abbot to hurry up with that letter.”

“and leave us? we’ll be heartbroken,” whitaker frowned, and the two women looked at him. “i know i’ll be. you only like going to her place to raid her fridge and pantry.”

“she shops at whole foods, how can you not resist!” victoria responded, and you chuckled, watching santos lay out the cards. “listen, i didn’t know that cassie liked girls for the longest time, and look where we are now.”

“she looks like she kisses girls for a living,” you stated, and victoria paused, slowly agreeing with you. “it only took her four months to cave in.”

“guys, a heads up,” santos coughed, clearing her throat, and everyone looked in the direction of the front door.

“i will take a scalpel to my eyes,” you mumbled, seeing emery walk in with a few people from the operating department, and you chugged down your wine. “this has to be some sick joke, right?”

“it’s worse,” victoria mumbled. “i think she’s sitting at a table across from us.”

“i have to go. i have to go before she tells a waitress to put rat poison in my food,” you panicked, grabbing your purse, yet you were a second too late from leaving when emery perfectly noticed you. “i’m going to quit medicine because of her.”

you stayed put in your seat as emery came up next to you, giving you a grin. emery’s grins were never soft or sweet when it came to you; it meant she had an another torture up her sleeve, something mean to say to you because you could never get a break.

“dr. walsh, i didn’t know you had the night off,” you stated, and wish you had a glass of straight vodka for this moment to swallow down.

“i’m surprised you have people to sit with outside of work,” she began, not even wasting a second to make a verbal blow towards you.

“she was on the day shift with us long before helping night,” santos chimed in, and both you and emery looked at her. “c’mon, you need to stop acting like that.”

emery looked back at you, softly utterly your name, “if you’re hungover tomorrow, you’ll be sloppy and commit malpractice.”

“shen literally told me you used the wrong instrument in a surgery last night,” you stated, and had to stifle a laugh when she had nothing more to say. “can’t you just leave me alone? i’ll be out of your hair soon anyways.”

“not soon enough, it seems,” she said, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “have a fun night.”

when she sat back down at her table, you let out a heavy sigh and put your head in your hands, considering taking the butter knife to your eye sockets.

“i’m gonna go back to day shift,” you said, and your friends hummed, agreeing. “and she’s needed in the night shift so there’s no way she’ll switch when i do.”

“is abbot aware of like, everything?” santos asked, and you nodded. “then why doesn’t he do anything?”

“he says it’s for us to handle on our own,” you stated, your eyes flickering at whitaker, and you tilted your head to the side. “has jack said anything to you?”

“he’s annoyed by it, but doesn’t want to get the medical director involved,” whitaker stated, finishing off his beer. “something about it being too much paperwork and stuff.”

“so he just wants me to suffer,” you mumbled, and the moment you looked at the table emery was sitting at her, she was looking at you — precisely and exactly.

she had a luring smile tugging at her lips, taking a sip of her own beer, and went back to talking to her own friends.

“you’ll be back on the day shift anyways,” victoria reminded, but you wish it didn’t have to take switching shifts again to not get tormented by a coworker.

you shouldn’t have to feel the need to quit your passion because you were getting constantly berated.

few hours had past, and you were too tipsy to drive yourself back home, standing outside of the restaurant bar as you smoked a cigarette.

“why are you still here?” you heard emery’s voice come to the side of you, causing you to turn your head and she stood cautiously a few feet away from you. “i thought you’d gone home by now.”

“being responsible by not drinking and driving,” you answered, taking another inhale, and slowly let it go. “why are you still here and talking to me?”

“you don’t need to rude,” she told you, earning a bitter, yet disbelieved chuckle out of you as you nodded to yourself in thought. “what is it now?”

“that’s really humorous coming from you,” you stated, refusing to look away from her. “all you are is rude and disrespectful towards me, and i don’t even know why.”

“you just need to get thicker skin,” she suggested, and you knew you were going to need a second cigarette, trying not to yell at her in this very moment. “not everyone will be sweet to you your whole life, you need to get used to it.”

“i am very used to it,” you said, taking in another hit. “it’s all thanks to you — your snarky comments, your hateful remarks — anything to get under my skin, and for what?”

“it sounds like you hate me,” emery stated, grinning because she was getting some sick amusement out of this interaction.

“i do hate you. i hate you so much,” you clearly stated, not missing a beat, not letting her even make another comment. you said it all with your full chest, and the words hung in the air, emery trying to gather something from it.

“have a good night. see you at work,” is all emery said before walking away, and left you standing there with what you had confessed, the cigarette ashes falling onto your knuckles.

you wanted to chase after her, ask her why she had nothing else to say to you, and why she didn’t make a jab at anything about you.

instead, you threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out, and walked back inside the restaurant.

a week has gone by since that night, and emery didn’t come down to the emergency room for that time period, especially when you asked around if she was working.

ellis was confused on what your sudden interest was with emery, but you shrugged it off and told her it was nothing.

but it was something.

you didn’t know why she wouldn’t come down, why she didn’t find a reason to belittle you in front of your shared peers — you assumed that maybe she got what she wanted, and you were in the clear.

you were sitting on santos’ apartment couch, the brunette in the kitchen with whitaker as they were making a late lunch for everybody, and victoria and samira sat on the carpet floor, showing off each other’s pinterest boards.

“hey, did you hear about the hang out tonight?” samira asked, and everyone looked at her, in mere confusion. “i don’t know who’s going, but it’s some people from the day and night shifts.”

“i’ll go. i need a reason for a drink or three,” you said, and you looked at santos. “did you ever find out if walsh liked girls?”

“oh shit,” she said, chuckling to herself as she stepped out of the kitchen, and sat next to you on the couch.

“wait, why do you need to know that?” samira asked.

“because trinity is convinced that she is,” you answered, and she awes in response, nodding.

“i think she is,” samira stated. “garcia and her used to have a small fling during their residency.”

“i can put my face on that hot stove right now, mohan,” santos stated, and samira mumbled a soft apology, going back to comparing with victoria. “and yeah, she does like ‘em. she’s only dated girls her whole life.”

“doesn’t mean she wants to fuck me,” you retorted, and whitaker brought the plates to the coffee table, sitting next to the girls. “i despise her, it makes me nearly sick how much i do.”

“you’ll be back on day shift soon, and i don’t think she’s coming tonight,” he said, and you hummed, nodding.

that’s why you agreed to join your friends on a night out in downtown, where it was more vibrant and busy.

you were on the rooftop of the bar, abbot and whitaker playing pool inside against samira, while you sat outside with santos and shen, almost down the first pitcher of beer.

“i didn’t want to tell you this earlier,” shen said, playing with the ring he had on his finger as he looked at you. “but walsh is coming.”

“we are on the top floor, i can push you off,” you told him, drinking down your cup of alcohol. “why is she coming, anyways? has she been coming up with new ways to insult me?”

“abbot had a whole talk with her the other day,” he explained, refilling your glass. “he said it’s not worth the paperwork, or either of your careers.”

“but i’m not even doing anything—”

“talking about me already?” emery asked, causing you to nearly jump, and you groaned under your breath. “i knew you’d miss me.”

she was wearing dark denim jeans that were baggy and a loose smashing pumpkins shirt, something that you weren’t that used to seeing — but you weren’t exactly complaining.

“the complete opposite,” you said, and she sat directly across from you.

“how about we go get something else from the bar?” shen directly asked santos, and it took her a few seconds to understand his suggestion as she agreed, the two immediately getting up.

“so,” you muttered. “we haven’t seen you down in the emergency department.”

“i didn’t want to deal with your shit,” she stated, grabbing the spare glass that was on the table, and poured beer into it.

“i am just as smart and capable as you,” you reminded her, and she made a certain look, one that told you that she didn’t entirely agree with you. “you got what you wanted, i’m moving shifts — so can you just stop?”

emery took a sip of her drink, taking a few beats to answer as she thought to herself. “i don’t want to stop, i don’t think i will.”

“why not?”

“because you hate me,” she said. “i don’t particularly like you either, but i feel like i’ve barely reached the surface.”

“but why me?” you asked, and it was a question that nearly silenced her as she just stared at you for a few seconds before looking down at her cup.

“you’re easy and pathetic. it’s easy to break you,” she admitted, grinning to herself. “that’s what makes you so special — you’re entirely incapable of stopping me from getting under your skin.”

“i’m very much capable.”

“you’re not,” she shook her head in disagreement, inching closer as her hands were folded on the table, only a few centimeters from yours. “i’m not done until i’ve made you cry.”

you swallowed thickly, your heart in your throat, and there was nerves pounding at your chest. your hands were on your cup, trying to find movement to chug the rest down, and walk out of the bar — but you couldn’t.

was she implying what you thought she was? there wasn’t any possible way that she could do that or she wanted you like that — she made your job a horrible experience every time you clocked in, but was it simply all so she could unravel and bend you beyond your breaking point?

you stayed put, looking at her and let yourself be quiet for once. samira and whitaker came to the table, noticing the heavy tension that hung over you and emery.

“is everything okay?” samira wondered, only looking at you.

“yeah, we’re gonna head to my house right now,” emery said, taking the last sip of her beer, and got up from the table.

it was like a ghost pulled and picked you up too, as you adjusting your denim skirt and looked at samira, grabbing your purse.

“i mean, are you sure?” she asked, an edge of worry in her tone.

“i’ll text you guys later, don’t worry,” you told her, giving a kiss to her cheek, and trailed right behind emery as she guided you two out of the bar.

you saw trinity and shen at the bar on the way out, giving her a look as she gave you a thumbs up, knowing that she was right.

the silence lingered until the two of you were completely out of the bar, and only then was there distant noises of honking and chatter.

“my house is only two blocks away,” emery said, grabbing your hand and dragged you along with her. “you look pretty.”

she actually said something nice — you were going throw up.

“shut up,” you told her, trying to force your hand out of hold, yet it seemed impossible as she only tightened her grip.

“this is why you’re fucking impossible,” she mumbled. “if you’re going to be like that, don’t talk until we’re at my place.”

you happily complied with that, keeping yourself quiet as you walked with her and let her continue to hold your hand.

it took about fifteen minutes to get to her townhouse, that was on the nicer side of pittsburgh and you stared at it in awe as she began to unlock her front door.

emery dropped your hand, opening the door and let you walk in first. you hesitantly careened inside, seeing miscellaneous photos hung up on the walls — it was of her college days, when she graduated, family photos, and random art pieces she must’ve collected over time.

“you have someone who gets these for you?” you asked, emery closing the door and coming to your side. “the artworks, they’re nice.”

“my mom gets them for me,” she stated, putting her keys in the little tray that sat on the walk in table. “she knows i can’t stand bland walls.”

“how much does a surgeon make?” you questioned, putting your purse next to her keys, and she only grinned. “if it’s more than me, i might have to switch careers.”

“you’d suck at being a surgeon,” she said, and you rolled your eyes, feeling a bit dumb that you thought she’d be nice for a few more minutes.

“can you not be sweet for even an hour?” you wondered, and she scoffed. “i’m serious. why are you so fucking mean?”

“don’t act like you don’t like it,” emery stated, and you moved right behind her as she led you both to what you presumed to be her bedroom.

“i don’t like it,” you told her, and you walked into her room, which was insanely organized and clean. a smell of clean linen and pinewood roamed throughout the space, yet there wasn’t a spec of dust anywhere, her bed was perfectly made, and she had only neutral tones.

maybe all surgeons were neat freaks.

she sat down at her computer chair as you stood by her bedroom door, your eyes looking at every part of her room as if you were to memorize it.

“what are you doing right there? come here,” she said, and you gathered the courage to move in her direction, fidgeting with your fingers. her legs moved apart to manspread before you as you stepped in between them and looked down at her. “can i touch you?”

“what?”

“can i touch you?” she asked, and you were taken aback. “need to know if you’re soaking wet all because i bully you.”

“i’m not wet,” you insisted, and she hummed, hitching your skirt up to your stomach. you didn’t stop her, not one bit, and when her fingertips brushed along your mound, you had inhaled sharply, excited yet afraid what she’d do next.

“these are cute,” she complimented your eyelet cotton panties, and was highly amused with herself, bringing them down to your thighs. “you left a mess in your panties, sweetheart. did you know that?”

you were nearly shameful that her taunting you tonight got you to this point, “i…i didn’t know,” you muttered, almost coming out as a whisper, and shyly looked away from her.

“who said you can fucking look away?” emery asked, bringing her spare hand to the side of your face, and gave it a soft, yet demanding slap. “look at how fucking pathetic you are.”

you whimpered from the slap, nodding and made eye contact with her once more. the slap got you going more, and she knew it too, two of her fingers slipping between your slick folds.

“all because i’m so mean to you,” she taunted, and let out a disbelief chuckle. “you bitch about it so much, but you love it.”

you didn’t say anything else, your guilt and shame claiming you, and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball because of how stupid you felt for getting wet over your older coworker being simply mean to you.

“take your clothes off,” emery said, and when you were about to barely turn around to do so, she gave your calf a small kick. “in front of me. are you fucking stupid?”

you nodded, your shaky hands going to each of your clothing as you slowly took them off, removing your shoes last. emery’s eyes gawked at your nude body, her eyes taking in every curve and inch of you, your delicate skin that she had the urge to bruise.

she had cursed under her breath while continuing to look at you, thinking of millions of ways to deprave and ruin you.

“go lay flat on your back on the bed,” she said, and you happily obliged, scurrying over to the neat bed, carefully resting on it. you only stared up at the ceiling, hearing emery go through a nightstand drawer, yet you were too afraid to look at what she was doing.

the room was cold, a cascade of chills creeping over your skin, and you jolted when emery’s hands were on your knees, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

you sat up on your elbows, noticing how she was only in her sports bra, yet when you looked down to her lower half, your eyes widened.

“what were you saying about hating me the other week?” she wondered, her hands moving to the back of your thighs and forced your legs entirely back, your knees at both sides of your head. “it doesn’t seem like you hate me.”

“this doesn’t mean anything,” you groaned, holding onto your legs, and knew you had to keep them there. “i do hate you, i always will.”

without any warning or for you to take a breath, you could feel your cunt being ripped and stretched apart with her cock before you could say much else.

“that’s one way to shut you up,” emery said, hovering over you as she didn’t hesitate to fuck into you at a rough, violent pace, and her free hand found the pinnacle of your throat. “can’t bitch or whine anymore now, and i fucking love it.”

“fuck you,” you managed to breathe out, her hand hard on your windpipe.

“your cunt doesn’t seem to fuckin’ hate me,” she spat, her cock nudging itself deeper into your pussy, and you held back your wanton noises.

you spat in her face, and for a singular moment, she held all movements, but she smeared your spit off her face, smudging it back onto yours.

“are you that stupid? don’t tell me you are,” she said, spitting at your face and backhanded you, barely missing your jaw. you yelped out a cry as she continued to fuck into you, and put her hand back onto your throat.

“‘m not stupid, i’m not,” you cried, and she nearly laughed in your face, using her spare hand to smack the back of your thigh.

“you’re disgusting for this — letting your older coworker fuck you, treat you like a fuck doll,” emery groaned, her hand tightening on your throat. “out of all the ways i thought of shutting you up, i knew this was the best one.”

your eyebrows furrowed together as you managed to hold eye contact with her, your moans and whines bouncing off every wall in the bedroom, surely being heard from outside.

“i hate you too, sweetheart — but i love fucking your cunt,” she stated, her hand unclasping from your throat, and replaced your hands with her own onto the back of your thighs, holding them in place.

your own hands grasp at the bed’s comforter, your back arching, and your body was seemingly electric, squirming around with every harsh thrust.

“it feels like i’m gonna cum, em,” you whimpered, pleading with her.

“you’re not gonna cum. give me a kiss, baby,” she said, one of her hand’s going to the back of your head to pick it up, and your lips met hers, the kiss hungry and desperate.

she tasted between spearmint and tobacco, her tongue meeting yours, and she cursed your name, groaning it as her thrusts became brutal and merciless.

the heat kept accumulating in your abdomen, feeling as if it was on fire, and your thighs trembled against her touch.

“i can’t, i can’t, please,” you begged, being too sensitive and were on the brink of tears. it had been a while since you had a proper orgasm, and every burning sensation and desire stacked amongst each other, riveting throughout your body.

“be a good bitch and hold it — you’ve already disappointed me enough,” emery seethed, and you broke into a small sob, the pleasure being beautifully overwhelming. “keep crying, baby. just feels so good, doesn’t it?”

she could tell you were about to let go of your climax, coming to full stop which only earned a symphony of protests from you, and towered back over you again.

another slap to your face.

“be fuckin’ grateful i’m even touching you,” she said, and you whimpered, only nodding. she put her hand near your mouth, and you looked merely confused. “spit.”

you spat into her hand as she inched back and you could feel your saliva being used as a lubricant, giving you only a few seconds to mentally prepare.

“i told you i’d stop once i got you to cry,” emery reminded, and in a single second, she was pushing inside of your bottom, a heavy gasp eliciting from you.

you had minimal strength to keep your legs up, and emery immediately noticed, getting closer to you and had them hung over her shoulders.

you were being torn apart the seams, but you loved it — god, emery fucking into you and stretching you apart to her own satisfaction was all you ever needed.

“tell me you’re sorry,” she said, her necklace dangling in your face and you held profusely eye contact with her. “apologize to me, and i’ll maybe consider letting you cum.”

you shook your head, moaning her name without even realizing it, and it was the sweetest sound to her eyes.

emery loved it — no, she adored it. it was the softest sound with the sickest intentions behind it, and the knowing that the mutual hatred towards one another is what fueled her to fuck you.

“you feel s’good, em,” you mumbled, soft whimpers sewn in between, and your fingernails dug into the comforter, surely ripping the thread. “it feels so, so good, but i—”

“you’re gonna keep fuckin’ taking it until you apologize,” she said, and she was certain on that, knowing that was the only way you could orgasm.

and your orgasm was painful, brutally poking at your abdomen, wanting to be free; but you were too prideful, and she was too egotistical.

your cries were beautiful, and you knew it was helping her in her own depraved ways, getting her off as her cock moved further into you, your ass perfectly sucking it in.

you knew your makeup was ruined, mascara running down your soft cheeks, and emery just adored the sight of you being ruined all because of her.

“you gonna apologize, sweetheart?” she asked.

“you can’t even keep going!”

“i can go on all night until i hear those two words,” she said, giving you a hast kiss, and harshly smacked your swollen cunt, causing you to jolt.

you could say it and not mean it, she wouldn’t be able to tell. your orgasm was too much, pressuring inside of you, and your cries shifted into heavy sobs.

because you finally cracked, and sobbed out, “i’m sorry! i—i’m sorry, fuck!”

“yeah, baby? you’re sorry?” she wondered, and ran her fingers between your puffy cunt before rubbing your bud. “you’re sorry for what exactly?”

“for being mean a—and disrespectful,” you cried, and your climax was at the edge of your cunt, ready to let go of it all. “please, please! i need to cum, i can’t anymore.”

emery’s thrust paced up, and she rode you through your head as your back arched the moment your orgasm flushed out of you.

you cried her name in a practical mantra, and she cursed every word, taking a few more seconds to slowly fuck into you.

it felt like minutes until she came to a halt, and the two of you tried to gather lungfuls of oxygen, seeing stars in your vision.

she gently slipped out of you, and completely took off the harness, patting your leg. you thought maybe she would comfort you a bit, maybe lay next to you or check up on you for a second.

“i’m gonna go shower,” she said, putting her hair up into a ponytail.

no kiss, not a single aftercare.

the second she walked into her bathroom, closing the door, you used every minuscule of muscle and strength to get up from the bed.

you hurriedly changed back into your clothes and tugged on your shoes, storming out of her bedroom.

you remembered your purse being on the walk in table, opening it and grabbed your phone, seeing multiple missed text messages from your friends in a shared chat.

trinity : did she fuck you…. be open and honest!

victoria : WAIT WHAT

victoria : EMERY FUCKED HER???

whitaker : i wouldn’t be surprised and trin did call this.

samira : possibly. they left together and we haven’t heard anything in nearly two hours.

trinity : me and abbot made a bet so please update.

victoria : cass is looking over my shoulders and reading all these btw

trinity : hello beautiful milf :P

whitaker : why are u betting with my boyfriend

trinity : shut up mouse.

victoria : why isn’t she answering her phone !!!!!!!

you : someone pick me up. right now. in under two minutes.

you : i think i have cum running down my thighs i can’t tell.

samira : oh babe, me and whitaker are parked right outside.

[somethingeh]

Where The Hell Is My Lover?

inspired by this request

pairing - emery walsh x reader

word count - 3.8k

summary - you've been part of the pitt family for years, so why don't they know who put that rock on your finger?

a/n - made reader a social worker because it's more realistic if she's meant to be wearing her ring around. love this, love emery, love u <3 i feel like i kinda rushed through the set up of their love story but i didn’t want to say too much in case i came back with the whole thing 👀 we’ll see we’ll see! also confirmed rabbot 🫡 if i’m ever writing for someone other than those two you can assume they’re together off screen, i fucking love that ship.

---

As a social worker at the pitt, you were desperately in demand and chronically underpaid and undersupported. Even with all the years of experience now under your belt, the praise from your coworkers and hospital administration alike, and your hard won comfort in your position, you still had lingering school debt. You still lived in a crappy small apartment. Still found yourself the only social worker on shift more often than not, being stretched thin fit to snap, constantly being pulled in a million different directions.

But you loved what you did. You loved working with people, and problem solving. Looking at the system, acknowledging its overwhelming faults, but not succumbing to the weight. You were good at finding loopholes and work-arounds to get your patients out of tight spots. Every time you succeeded in getting a child out of a bad home, a woman out of trafficking, or a family’s hospital bill covered, all your problems seemed so insignificant, worth it.

Your friends and coworkers made it more bearable, too. Kiara was your rock, Lupe was always a kind, understanding presence. It was easier to connect with your fellow non-medical workers, because they too felt the pressure of the job without adequate compensation. The nurses, too. You could bond together in the face of day to day mistreatment. You were sneered at, looked down upon, underestimated, all while keeping the whole system running and getting paid jack.

You weren’t there so you could have your names published or buy a boat, or a vacation home, or be publicly praised. You put up with being ignored and shoved aside and overworked because you were dedicated to your jobs.

Doctors were another story. And surgeons? They were the worst.

It took you a bit longer to accept the doctors into your good graces, but you learned how to weed out the respectful ones as opposed to the ones who would look down their noses at you.

Dr. Robby, however snappy and short-tempered, always made sure to thank you for your work, and treat you the same as his fellows. Sometimes that meant yelling, but hey, at least it was equal treatment across the board.

Dr. Abbot, of course, one of your favorites. He won your trust right off the bat with his slow smiles and ability to stay calm in tense situations. He praised the social workers beyond a doubt, and you could always count on him for a ride home, or a shoulder to cry on, even.

Samira? No competition. You often told her she’d have excelled as a social worker, with her once in a lifetime empathy, her heightened sense for the socioemotional aspects of her job. You’d reprimanded Robby more than once for being harsh with her.

So, you weren’t too picky. After all, you were a people person. If you were to be seeing the same people almost every day, you’d make an effort to try and get on with them. That, and, despite all the ugliness you had seen in your job and out of it, you were still a firm believer that everyone has good qualities, even if it takes a little longer to see them in some than in others.

It took you quite awhile to see the good in Emery Walsh.

You had been working on the day shift almost exclusively for your entire multi year long career at PTMC, maybe picking up someone’s shift here and there, when you got the news that one of your coworkers was leaving and needed a replacement. It was only for a few months, you were assured, but still relatively long term. Social workers, to no one’s surprise, were in short supply, and Trish had had a family emergency and an abrupt departure.

You weren’t thrilled to be leaving your usual team, who at that point viewed you like family, and you right back, but you liked Jack, and you liked Lena, and you were nothing if not open to new experiences. So, you said your goodbyes, purchased some blackout blinds, and started the aggravating process of shifting your circadian rhythm.

It wasn’t easy, and you spent the first several weeks pounding espresso and running on thin patience. So it was no mystery why the generally sharp, sassy surgeon did not make a great first impression on you.

You found her acerbic, and cocky, much too sure of herself. This assessment was of course not helped by your sleep deprivation, nor her stubborn nature. Upon walking into the room, she didn’t even glance in your direction, speaking only to Dr. Abbot. You bristled, and pushed, and she pushed back. It was the beginning of a turbulent relationship.

You’d snipe at each other like school children whenever in contact. You’d go out of your way to request any surgery consultant but her, and she’d act awful lofty when you were around, using advanced language she knew you wouldn’t understand.

But as time went on, tensions were heightened by one inescapable fact; she was one of the hottest people you’d ever laid eyes on.

It took months, and several strong drinks, for you to admit that. Turned out, she felt quite the same. And so began a secret love affair.

By the time you were meant to return to the day shift, one of your biggest annoyances had become one of your greatest sources of joy.

You were proven right in your convictions that everybody had good. It was a long and slow process to break down those walls, to reach the person behind them.

Some days, you would cry and fight, and your mission to reach her felt less steady, and more like trying to find the end of a rainbow. Was it there? Were you wasting your time?

No, decidedly, you weren’t. You came to know Emery Walsh like no one had before, in the sheets, at home, even at work. You could look at her, and where before you only saw an arrogant surgeon, annoying but typical, now you could see the dedication, and curiosity, the desire to learn, and the desire to help.

It was beautiful to see in action, and you were reluctant to leave. You remembered confessing your hesitation to Emery, a week before the new hire started. You sat on her counter in your underwear, sipping the tea she had made you.

“The night shift is horrible,” Emery insisted. “We get all the weirdos. Our sleep’s fucked up. It has no sunlight, no steadiness, no anything. It has sleep deprivation and bad coffee.”

You set down your mug and grabbed her face, pulling her in between your dangling legs.

“Yeah, it does,” you said, twirling the baby hairs at the base of her neck. “But it also has you. When am I supposed to see you if I go back to the day shift?”

She looked at you then, really looked at you, deep into your eyes, and smiled. She placed her skilled hands against your waist.

“Well, if you moved in with me,” she said, “we can see a whole lot of each other.”

It took three iterations of the same proposal for you to believe she wasn’t joking. Once you did, you jumped off the counter, clinging to her like a koala as you squealed. After six long months together, a blip, really, but a lifetime to you, you moved in together.

It was no question whose apartment it would be. Emery was a surgeon, with a surgeon’s salary, and she lived like one. Her apartment had huge windows, good plumbing, and no mold. It had plenty of space for your things. You didn’t have too many, a fact Emery was only too quick to fix.

By the time you celebrated your first anniversary, you had a small collection of designer bags in your closet, fresh nails every fortnight, and luxury perfumes lining your vanity. Your student debt dried up, your car stopped making that noise, and your fridge was stocked with the bougie yogurt you never allowed yourself.

All those years you spent worrying about money, and it turned out all you needed to do was fall in love with a surgeon.

You loved your girl, and she loved you, and you weren’t ashamed. When you first got together, it was too new to tell anyone. Then, it was fun keeping it a secret. Then you went back on opposite shifts, and there were hardly any clues to pick up on. Hardly anyone knew that you went home after a long day to a cushy apartment shared with an attending at their very hospital, played with a cat she got you, and slept in a bed that smelled like her. They never asked, and you never told.

Emery liked staying private, and you didn’t mind. With as little contact as the two of you had, during the day, it was easy.

You had to tell Kiara, of course, and Dana would have figured it out anyways. Abbot and Robby knew because they were higher ups, and it was hard to file with HR without them knowing. You went to work, you went home. Emery did the same. You didn’t talk about your out of work ventures, referred in passing to “my partner” but gave no further details. Your phone background was of Mitzy, your cat, innocuous enough. Nothing, at first glance, really tied you and Emery to each other.

At least, not for years. But now, you were looking down at your gorgeous, very large, very noticeable stone resting in place on the fourth finger of your left hand, and you realized the jig was up.

It was a pretty impulsive idea. You woke up the morning before, after a wonderful night spent celebrating your third anniversary, and the question just slipped out of your girlfriend’s mouth.

“Will you marry me?”

This time she proposed something hasty and wild, you didn’t hesitate, didn’t backtrack and take convincing. You smiled wide, and said, “yes.”

You’d never wanted a big wedding and neither did she. So, you went to the thrift store for a nice white gown with your mother that very afternoon, bought a grocery store cake with a congrats piped across the top that was surely meant for a graduate, and went to the courthouse. Your flowers came from the few vases you kept around the house. The photographer was Emery’s sister. It was chaotic, and sudden, and a little panicked, but it was perfect.

You’d said your I Dos in front of your parents, siblings, Dana, and Kiara, and had cheap cake out on the cement steps. You went to the bar you had your first date at, danced, drank, and celebrated. You couldn’t have asked for a better day.

A few days later, you took a trip to a jeweller. You picked out her ring, and she picked out yours. You’d laughed and cried, felt all the emotions, dreamed of what the future looked like for the two of you. Then reality hit.

“I don’t want to hide this,” you said, tangled up with Emery in bed, turning your hand from side to side. 

“Me neither,” she said.

“So… what’s our gameplan?” you asked. “I mean, they’re gonna freak out. They don’t even know we’re dating.”

She fingered her own band, thinking. Then she grinned.

“Let them freak out,” she said. “Mine’ll be hidden, I can’t exactly have it on when I’m sticking my hands into people’s body cavities.”

“Right,” you said grumpily. “So I’m gonna get all the questions, and the badgering, and the attention, and no one’s gonna bug you at all. I have to take all of the heat?”

“I’m pretty sure it was in our vows,” she chuckled.

“Our vows said in sickness and in health,” you said, crossing your arms. “You’re not sick. Unless you’ve been diagnosed with chicken-itis.”

“Ha, ha,” she drawled as you started making chicken noises in her face.

Really, it wasn’t a big deal, you tried to tell yourself as you got ready the next morning. They’d find out, they’d freak, and then they’d get over it. The question was whether or not to tell your friends exactly who your counterpart was in all this mess.

You’d only made the mistake of introducing a partner to them once. It wasn’t even serious, just a guy you’d met at the gym and brought along to drinks. After that night, they’d been insufferable. They made up nicknames, teased you about his clothes, his hair, his job. Even now, eons after your breakup, you’d still hear a jab about “how’s Walmart Bieber?" or “Is he still living with his mommy?”

So okay, yeah, he wasn’t the best choice of boyfriend, but he had helped you learn a very valuable lesson. Never introduce anyone you care about to the Pitt crew. They’d be able to drive off anyone. And sure, Emery wasn’t exactly a stranger to them, but that wouldn’t excuse her from receiving a barrage of insulting monikers and teasing about your relationship.

It wasn’t an experience you were eager to relieve.

As you walked into the ED, you got all your usual greetings. Lupe buzzed you in with a smile, Dana nodded. The only slightly unusual thing was the wink Kiara sent you as you set up in your office.

It wasn’t until you were filling out some paperwork for your first patient of the day, a single mother whose insurance wouldn’t cover a procedure for her son, that someone said something.

“I like your ring,” said Samira, handing you the pen you’d asked for. “Is it new, or…”

You saw the gears turning in her brain, trying to pull itself from work mode to friend mode. Then she gasped loudly and pointed, drawing several people’s attention. You grimaced.

“Is that an engagement ring?”

“Um…” was all you could force out. Your mind was suddenly blank.

“It is!” said Javadi, eyes wide as usual. “You’re engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone!”

“Engaged?” said Whitaker, pulling up to the hub with Mel in tow. “Who’s engaged?”

Samira pointed to your ring again, and both dark blondes lit up.

“Congratulations!” said Mel, hurriedly freeing herself from her gown and gloves, and giving you a friendly hug.

“Damn, that’s a rock,” said Perlah, coming over and grabbing your hand.

“A rock?” snorted Princess. “That’s a fucking glacier.”

The two played tug of war with your hand, each trying to pull it closer for inspection, while Javadi was practically vibrating with excitement.

“Do you know when you’re gonna have the ceremony?” she asked. “I’ve always thought I’d like a spring wedding, but the rain is temperamental. I think you’d look amazing in fall colors, though, surrounded by the leaves, and everything! Of course, the color scheme has to be well thought out, too —”

“You know what you should do?” said Samira, snapping her fingers. “Get married in a library! Ugh, that’s my dream!”

“Yes, yes, the Boston Public Library is gorgeous!” piped in the new nurse, Emma. “Not insanely expensive if you keep it small, and not too far away from Pittsburgh, so like destination, but not inaccessible, you know?”

“Yeah, but why keep it small?” said Javadi. “Miss Popular over here, she’s gonna want to invite everyone and their neighbor.”

“Um —” you said again.

“Well you could still get married at the library then,” said Emma. “If you save. Or if your fiance is rich.”

“Yeah, is he?” said Princess. “What does he do?”

Quiet suddenly fell as the jabbering ceased and all eyes fell on you. You stammered a bit.

“My fiance?” you said. “My fiance… is a doctor.”

Why, why did you say that? Of all moments to tell the truth! If you thought they were all over you like before, it was nothing compared to now. Now that they knew there was a possibility they knew the person, seen them, even worked with them. It was like bees on honey, buzzing nonstop.

“Oh my god!”

“Does he work here?”

“Is it Park?”

“Ew, don’t say that!”

“What, he’s jacked!”

“It is not Park the shark!” you said, yanking your hand back.

“But it is someone at PTMC?” said Perlah.

You hesitated, just for a second, but it was a second too long. 

“It is!” said Javadi with a gasp.

“This changes everything,” said Perlah, looking devilish.

Luckily, you were saved from another wave of questions by Robby.

“What the hell is going on here?” he said sharply. “I have a feeling it’s not related to your work. And unless it’s about labs, or x-rays, or differential diagnoses, gossip doesn’t save anyone’s life!”

“Fascist,” Princess muttered under her breath as she turned back to her tablet.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, chief!” she said, overly cheery, before turning and whispering something else to Perlah in Tagalog.

“This isn’t over!” said Javadi, as she skittered away.

As they all cleared out, Robby stepped up to you, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Thank you,” you said, picking up your pen and getting back to work.

“Sure,” he said. “And by the way, congratulations.”

You smiled back at him. He knew, of course, had been invited to the wedding, both he and Jack. When you called their apartment, however, it was to learn that Robby was working and Jack was attempting to sleep off a nasty cold.

“Thanks,” you said. “Sorry you couldn’t be there. But, you know, it took less than a day to put together. It was cheap, simple, easy, memorable.” You smirked at him. “Maybe one of these days you take that silver fox of yours and make it official, huh?”

He immediately turned tomato red, as he always did at any mention of feelings. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, it’s really not appropriate to discuss these things at work,” he said, skirting away from your knowing eyes. “Don’t make me call HR!”

You just chuckled.

Later that night, you came home to a delicious smell and an open bottle of wine. Emery was swaying in the kitchen, humming along to your cooking playlist and stirring pasta on the stove. You dropped your things, kicked off your shoes, and joined her.

“How was work?” she asked as you wrapped your arms around her middle.

“Fine,” you said. “Vodka sauce?”

“The best in Pittsburgh,” she said, lifting the spoon and blowing on it. “Taste.”

You carefully grabbed the hot pasta with your teeth and hummed.

“Good.”

You wandered over to the wine. There were two glasses out but empty. You took the liberty of filling both and handing one to your wife. Your wife.

“Thanks, baby,” she said, taking a sip.

“Isn’t this kind of the equivalent of drinking at eight AM for you?” you said, nodding to the clock. “I mean, you just woke up.”

“Maybe, but I’m off today,” she said, grabbing bowls. “And I figured you could use it.”

“You would be right,” you sighed, bringing your legs up to your chest.

“They were bad, huh?”

“They were as you’d expect,” you waved away. “Actually, it made me kind of sad, more than anything.”

“How’s that?” said Emery, spooning pasta into the dishes and finishing with some basil leaves.

“Well, you should have seen how excited they got when they thought I was engaged,” you said. “They started picking out venues, and color schemes, and stuff. They really wanted to be involved.”

“What did they say when you told them you were already married?” she said, placing the hot plate in front of you.

“I didn’t have the heart to tell them,” you said. “I was thinking that maybe we could have a party? Like a big one, with outfits and dinner and a big cake, and everything.”

“Isn’t that the whole reason we got married at the court house?” said Emery. “Not dealing with all that?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you said, stabbing some rigatoni onto your fork. “It’s just — I really care about those people, you know? And I know they care about me, and I think they deserve the chance to celebrate with us. I know I’d want one if one of my friends had a secret wedding.”

“That’s sweet,” she said, rubbing your arm with her free hand. “Really. And it’s also sweet that this has nothing to do with the idea of a registry. Really selfless, babe.”

You shot her a look while she laughed.

“Why pass up the opportunity?”

It seemed your mom had been holding back her disappointment at your small, makeshift wedding to spare your feelings, because the second you mentioned the party idea to her, she was over the moon. You had to convince her not to go ahead and start booking without you and Emery.

It was certainly a lot. Even keeping it simple, in your brother’s backyard, with homemade decorations, it was complicated. You needed to decide on music, live or DJ? Food, catered or homemade? Cake flavors, dresses, itineraries, everything. 

Finally, you had to put your foot down with your parents and inlaws. No caterers, no ceremony, no live band. A simple night with drinks and food, and maybe you’d allow some slideshows of embarrassing childhood photos. 

You were more comfortable sharing the blow then, with a plan, the next time you walked into work. Immediately, though, you knew the news of your “engagement” had spread like wildfire. Most obviously by the hubbub around the betting board in the security office.

Spotting Robby in the mix with his wallet out, you made for him, less than thrilled. He tried to hide his cash behind his back when he saw you coming.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said sternly. “I hope it’s not cheating.”

He glanced from the board, to Ahmad, to you. You turned to Ahmad.

“Don’t take any money from him, he already knows the answer,” you said, and Robby groaned. “Actually, don’t go anywhere near Abbot, Dana, or Kiara, either. They all know.”

While the other betters reprimanded Robby as though they wouldn’t have done the same thing, you examined the board.

There were a good few names up there, some eyebrow raisers. Devin from radiology, as if. Dr. Cruz from the nightshift; he was nice, but you thought his girlfriend might have a thing or two to say about it. Matteo, who was practically a child to you, in his early twenties. Ellis, the only woman, with just one vote from Santos. Then there was Abbot, which as you watched, gained five more bets from Ahmad’s hand.

Shocked though you were, you supposed his and Robby’s relationship wasn’t completely common knowledge.

“You said he knows,” said Princess. “Obviously he would know if he was the fiance.”

You shook your head with a smile, turning back to work.

“You people are incorrigible.”

Okay, maybe you’d wait a little longer, let them sit in it before you spread the word. Emery’s name wasn’t even mentioned. If you played your cards right, maybe you could convince Mel to cheat with you, and get a cut of the winnings. Your phone buzzed.

Tell them yet?

You smirked.

No. Let’s let them tear each other apart for a while first. We can laugh about it at the party.

---

requests open!

main masterlist

[nfr-girly]

hiiiii!! I was wondering if you could do a Dr. Walsh x f!reader where reader is the new, overly kind resident that she begrudgingly falls for?

Soft spot - Emery Walsh x f!reader

Tysm for this request!! This fic has been in my drafts for a year now and I’ve only just managed to finish it, sorry 🥲 may be some medical inaccuracies in here.

borders by @bernardsbendystraws , @enchanthings

Day 1

Walking into the Pitt, the organisation of the hospital moved fast around you. Moving from room to room, checking in patients, checking out patients, the lobby was filled with caffeinated doctors and nurses, already moving twice their regular speed despite only just having started the shift.

You were a PGY2, you had previously worked at the VA before moving here to work night shift. You were supposed to meet with your senior attending, Dr. Jack Abbot.

Moving towards the desk, you approach the charge nurse.

“Hi excuse me, I’m the new resident starting today, do you know where I could find the attending? Dr. Abbot?”

Before she could reply, a voice is heard behind you.

“I’m here I’m here.” You turn to face who you assume is your attending. An older man, grey hair, quite nice looking.

“I’m presuming you’re Dr. (Y/L/N)?”

You nod and smile. “Yes I am. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here”

He nods. “Good, you won’t need to- Welcome to the Pitt. I know we spoke on the phone so I’ve already gone over a few things with you. Now, as it’s your first day, you can observe our other residents, surgeons, physicians or myself if you like.”

He walks toward the board, displaying all the cases waiting to be assessed, you follow him.

He points upwards. “This- is where you’ll find all our cases. When you’ve discharged a patient and have a bed open, one of these will land in your hands.”

You nod and he continues

“Now we don’t pick and choose, we go to whatever patient needs tending to.”

He leans closer, whispering to you

“But honestly? If you see a juicy case, take it”

You giggle and he moves on

“Now things may act different here from the VA, but you’ll get used to how things work around here pretty quick” he looks over and spots Dr. Ellis

“Hey! Dr Ellis. Come meet the new resident.”

She looks over at him before heading over, giving you a smile.

“This is senior resident Dr. Parker Ellis, you have any inquiries don’t be afraid to go to her. She knows her stuff”

She chuckles at the praise

“I have a distal radius fracture in ward 3. Not very interesting, but if you’d like to observe?” She asks you

Your eyes lighten up, and you look to Dr. Abbot who just laughs. He nods; “yeah, go on over”

You smile and she leads the way

“So you’re a second year resident?” She asks

You nod. “Yep! I came from the VA. Did my first year of residency there.”

She tuts and nods her head. “Nicee, you seem energetic, which is what we need in a place like this”

You laugh. “Yeah, I’m running on two cups of coffee so..”

She laughs, you two reach the ward and she opens the door.

“Heyy Mr. Clarkson. How you holding up?”

He shakes his head, “okay, my wrist still hurts.”

She smiles, “yeah well we’ll get that sorted out for you. This is Dr. (Y/L/N).”

You smile and say hello

“Okay since the fracture is aligned properly, you won’t need surgery. But you will have to wear a cast for the next 4-6 weeks, after that come in and we’ll take it off for you.”

He nods and she quickly finishes up his charts, he goes on his way and she looks to you.

“Tell you what, I’ll introduce you to everyone real quick, then you can just go around, do whatever.”

“Yeah okay!” She opens the door and you follow, as you pass the nurses stations, she points out different names whenever they walk past. Not like you’ll remember them by morning.

She slows down when she spots a worker, unfamiliar to you, at one of the stations sitting down.

“Dr. Walsh, you slacking?” she chuckles

The surgeon looks up at her, then takes a quick glance at you, before looking back down at her desk.

“I’m finishing up a patients chart, I don’t always have to be hands deep in someone’s lungs” she remarked, voice monotone

Dr. Ellis chuckles before continuing, “this is Dr. (Y/L/N), our new resident.” She looks back at you

“This is Dr. Emery Walsh. Don’t let her very much grumpy and competitive attitude trip you up” she exclaims, putting emphasis on ‘grumpy’

Emery looks to her and rolls her eyes, then looks to you.

“It’s just Dr. Walsh, and I’m not grumpy, I just have to work with a bunch of idiots”

Parker acts fake offended. “I hope that doesn’t entail me.”

She keeps her eyes to the computer, “if this conversation goes on any longer it will”

She closes her mouth and raises her hands up in defense. “I will leave you with our attending physician. Dr. Walsh please don’t make her cry thank you very much.” She says quickly before whisking away

Her statement makes you furrow your eyebrows slightly, and you turn to look to the attending in front of you. You jump slightly to see her already staring at you, unable to read her facial expression.

“You’re a second year?” She asks

You nod your head quickly, and off the bat you can already tell she thinks you’re too energetic for her liking. You wouldn’t be far off.

She observes you for a few seconds, before looking back at her computer. “I have some charts here that need checking up on. All the details are in there, we need to make prescriptions for all the patients and how much of a dosage they need for their condition. Unless that’s too much for you.” She adds some attitude on the end, which you undoubtedly pick up on.

You pause to look at the charts, before nodding. “Yeah I can do that, absolutely.” You take the chart and sit on a desk not too far from hers, a few feet in front. You were more than happy to do charts, you had done it loads in the VA, helping figure out what prescriptions veterans needed to help with any conditions they had.

While you were focused on the task at hand, Emery found herself looking up towards you. She had only just met you, but she’s seen residents like you in the past before. Brand new to the Pitt, excited to implement what they’ve learned from med school and previous settings. One may find it inspirational, having residents who are excited to learn and to show off their skills. But Emery absolutely hated new people. It’s unfair, really. Given she was new at some point. But she’s proud enough to say she was a good enough resident who actually listened and did things right, which was more than she could say for some of the students that have passed through the hospital.

Over the years, constant mistakes were made, life’s being threatened, all because some med student were too arrogant to think straight. Jesus, she had heard that some intern on the day shift dropped a scalpel into Dr Garcia’s foot, even after they had cut into the patient. An intern. Not even a fucking med student. So truthfully, she believes she has every right to be cautious of newcomers.

While you loaded up the charts, you could feel her stare pierce through you. It made you tense, and made you work at a pace alot slower than usual. You’d only just met her, but off the bat you could gather she had an attitude barely anyone could tolerate. Why was she staring at you? You hoped it was maybe to observe your working skills, see if you looked tense or nervous. Frankly you were. You quickly looked up to her to accidentally catch her eye, before she drops down to look back at some paperwork. You maintain a neutral expression as you turn back around. Weird

Over the next 7 hours of the shift, you operate around the ER fairly organised. You’ve treated patients well, learnt new things and methods, and hopefully made a good first impression on everyone. Well, clearly you haven’t on Dr. Walsh.

Every time you were with a patient together, she would ask questions, and criticise every tiny thing that wasn’t completely to her satisfaction, despite your answers being dead on correct. Maybe she didn’t like your hesitation to answer, nor did she seemingly like you doing your job.

“Why did you order a CT scan without consulting me?”

You looked up at her, confused

“Dr. Ellis recommended it-“

“I don’t care what Dr. Ellis recommended, I am your attending physician, this was my case and you didn’t consult me first”

you had heard her mutter out some profanities as she continued to work, all the other workers in the room tensed up at the confrontation and awkwardly carried on with the operation

You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t stand up to her, she was an attending after all, and plus, she already didn’t like you, what the hell was confronting her about it going to do?

However, you also saw the way she acted with the senior attending, Dr. Abbot (and pretty much everyone else in the Pitt). So the realisation that she was actually just judgemental as hell, was a relief.

Still, it pissed you off. There were countless times when she was in the room while you spoke with a patient, and you’re not ashamed to say you’re damn well good at it. Back when you were at the VA, you had veterans all the time say you were amazing at explaining things and was a lot more helpful than others were. Even today, some of the nurses gave you good feedback on your bedside manners. You made sure the conversations were made near to Dr. Walsh’s desk, because yes, you were extremely petty.

When the end of your shift finally came around, you were exhausted. Dr. Abbot gave you all a quick debriefing, as-well as speaking to you separately to tell you a job well done, before going to gather your things. You packed up your bag and put on your jacket, out of the corner of your eye, you felt a stare on you. You quickly looked up to catch Dr. Walsh by the doors, giving you a look you couldn’t quite figure out, she looked away as soon as you saw her and headed out, not looking back again. Weird. You pause, before putting your bag on your shoulder and heading out. You just manage to miss Dr. Abbots stare as he finishes watching the small interaction between you and her.

Day 3

Emery’s been harder on you than needed. She would never dare admit it, but she knows full well half the things, maybe even everything she’s been criticising you about is complete bullshit. You’re doing great, you’ve performed the right procedures, made the right diagnosis’s, and your bedside manners are practically enough to rise their patient satisfaction scores.

It’s impressive, truthfully, and she does regret her attitude with you the past few days, but after the first few times she lashed out at you, she figured she was too far in to do a complete 180. Also, she knew full well that if she started going easy on you, she’d get a bunch of shit from the nurses.

Right now, she’s stood in room 16 observing you with a patient, it was a little girl, around 6 years old, named Abby. Her parents recently had a family member get diagnosed with measles, and realised they never vaccinated their daughter, so they had brought her in to make sure she was less at risk of getting it.

Obviously, with how young she was, Abby was scared of the needle, but you had swept in and reassured her. You were sweet with her, you had a calming voice that could soothe down anyone, you managed to distract her while you gave her the shot, all while Walsh observed your every move.

After you discharged the girl, and the room was cleaned up, Emery quickly walked towards you and spoke up

“You did well with her, good job.”

She walked away, and you stood there for a moment, surprised by the sudden change in attitude from her. She misses the way your lips quirk into a small smile before moving on to the next patient.

Day 4

A few hours have passed you, and you haven’t seen much of Dr. Walsh at all, though you’re relieved you’re free from her constant criticism, and inability to agree with anyone else. You feel as though you’ve proven yourself to her, she hasn’t made as much pokes at you as she did the first few days. Then again, you aren’t the only one who’s noticed.

You prop yourself down at the nurses station, tapping in your badge and looking through your patients medical records. You hear footsteps approaching you and you look up to see Dr. Shen, he comes and places his arms on the counter, Starbucks drunk next to him.

“How are you holding up?” He asks

You nod with a small smile. “Been okay, just a typical day of dealing with a bunch of screaming patients.”

He chuckles, “yeah I know. How uhh- how’s Dr. Walsh been treating you?”

You finally look up at him and pause. Why was he asking about her? You bring your lips into a thin line and shake your head.

“Well… just didn’t realise how much she argues with people I guess.”

He laughs. “Should’ve pre-warned you, sorry”

there’s a silence between you, before he speaks up again.

“I’ll be honest though, she hasn’t been as hard on you as she is everyone else” this time his eyes linger on you, wanting to catch your response

Your eyes widen slightly, and your chest freezes. “I mean… it’s probably just because I’m new, but still did you see her my first day here? She raised her voice at me because I wanted to perform a CT scan for our 60 year old patient who had a stroke, she said there was no need. Suggested we straightaway give him alteplase, turns out the CT scan was needed because his brain scan gave us evidence of past strokes.”

Shen laughed at your mini rant before responding, “yeah you expect that from her. She knows her stuff, just seems to think no one else does” he mutters the last bit

He pipes up before you can respond. “Trust me though, compared to all the other newbies we’ve had, you’ve made a much better impression on her. Seriously”

He leaves after giving you a last glance, and your eyes are glued on him as he moves out of vision. Huh.

Day 5

In the break room, a few of the nurses and doctors were starting their lunch, having ordered Italian food from the place down the road.

Abbot hands out everyone’s orders, and Walsh comes in to sit down

He looks to her and speaks up, “joining us Dr. Walsh?”

“Yeah. Park is giving me some shit so I’m escaping to the ED for a bit”, in response Jack chuckles.

Ellis looks around the room, “hey has Dr. (L/N) got her food?”

Emery looks up too quickly for her liking.

Jack shakes his head. “No. Said she wanted to stay with a nervous patient.”

Parker nods, “she’s settling in good. Made a great first impression.”

Jack gives a small smile. “Yeah she’s doing well here.” He looks to Emery. “Dr. Walsh here sure as hell thinks so.”

She looks to him with furrowed eyebrows and a look that could kill. “What is that supposed to mean?”

By now, the whole room is trying to hide their smirks

He grins, “well you just haven’t been as hard on her as much as you do with everyone else”

She rolls her eyes and laughs in mockery. “You’re kidding me? You see how I acted with her those first few days?”

He replies almost instantly. “Yeah two and a half days. Then after that you completely stopped, you haven’t said a word to her yesterday, or today. Christ she suggested to do a REBOA on a conscious patient and you didn’t immediately call her out for it.”

“She doesn’t need me up her ass all the time she’s still technically learning.”

Jack and Parker look to eachother in playful shock.

“Where the hell was that energy when I was a second year?” Parker says

“Well she seems half competent”

Shen slightly chokes on his drink as Parker acts fake offended.

“Fuckkk I’m catching strays right now”

Day 7

A full week’s gone by. Honestly? You’ve loved every second of it. The first few days were a living hell, but after that it seemed as though Emery left you alone, left you to actually work without the constant criticism being whispered behind your shoulder. You appreciate criticism, absolutely. But fuck.

Opening your locker, footsteps quietly approach from the right of you, you don’t register until you close it and jump back.

“Jesus!” Your hand lept to your heart

Emery reacts with a chuckle and a shake of her head. “Sorry”

“Warn a girl or something” you smile, putting on your coat

“Anything I can help you with?” You ask.

“Uh- yeah. I.. was wondering if you wanted to head to to bar with all of us.”

You pause, eyebrows lift slightly. You weren’t expecting that. Not from her at least.

“Oh- uh yeah sure, who’s coming?”

Hands on her hips; she looks down to the ground and rocks her feet.

“Uhh, few of the nurses, Parker, Shen, myself, and we’ve managed to snag out Dr abbot for a night.”

I smile “how did you manage that?”

She looks up and chuckles. “Don’t ask me. But, do you.. wanna come?”

There’s something in her voice that’s unfamiliar, to both of you it seems.

“Yeah sure! You’ll have to show me the way though.”

She nods. “Yeah, meet me outside, I’ll get my coat.”

She walks away and your eyes linger, just slightly before turning to make your way out, just missing the glance back she takes. Unbeknownst to either of you, Jack sees it from the nurses station.

“Jesus Christ” he mutters.

-

You step outside as the wind hits your face, you can her standing next to some railing just by the ambulance bay.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over.

She turns and smiles.

“Hey”

“Hi”

There’s a quiet absence of speech, a comfortable silence, though. Until she speaks up.

“I’ll uhh- I’ll show the way” she half smiles and turns to walk, leaving you to take some quick steps to catch up

The walk is silent. There seems to be an unspoken question that both of you are wondering, are you friends? No? Yes? Depends on Walsh, you suppose.

You take a slow turn to look at her, her hair is down now, wearing a simple white shirt with a black coat over it and jeans. She’s pretty, you think.

You quickly look away and down at your feet when she turns to you to speak.

“How’s your first week been?”

You look up at her, eyes only briefly falling to her lips before her eyes. She’s notices, obviously.

“Uh yeah- it’s been great.” You smile and nod

She nods awkwardly. “Yeah I’m- sorry for being harsh on you before. Can’t be too soft on people I guess” she doesn’t look at you when she says this, but you know it’s sincere.

“No- no it’s fine I get it. I had an attending at the VA kinda similar to you, he joined after me though so- never got the ‘treat the new person like shit’ treatment” you laugh slightly

She slightly winces at that, and you immediately go back on what you just said

“I mean- not saying you treat me like shit, but you know what I mean”

She chuckles and nods. “I deserve that”. You laugh too.

5 minutes go by, you two chatting about random things, your family, any pets, any partners, to which you learn she’s single, and also gay, not that it’s any interest to you, of course.

“You got anyone at home? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

You shake your head. “Nope, no one at the moment. Just a dog. I uh- split up with my ex girlfriend last year. Long distance wasn’t working out.”

She nods in interest. The knowledge that you’re into girls totally doesn’t remain in her mind.

“Sorry to hear that. You’ll find someone, I’m sure.”

What? This behaviour from her was unusual. Sure, you’ve only known her a week, but being told what you have about her, and being her own personal punching bag, frankly it’s surprising she’s giving you the time of day.

“We’re here now.” She beckons you over to the door.

You both walk inside, the bars not too busy. Since it’s 8am, the only people here are likely others who work during the night, and of course your main group of coworkers.

You spot them from across the room, Shen and Abbot are laughing at things on their phone, Parker is bringing drinks back from the bar and everyone else seems to be scattered around the bar chatting.

Jack spots you both and waves you over.

“Hello newbie.” He smiles, passing you a drink.

“Hey, this is my favourite drink how’d you know?”

Jack nods his head to Emery. “Texted me it before you guys arrived”

Your eyebrows raise and you look to her, her eyes wide and mouthing something to Jack. He smirks.

“Oh- thanks” you chuckle. “Have I even mentioned that to you?”

Her lips are pursed, she takes off her coat and avoids your eye. “Yeah, you mentioned it a few days ago. Guess I just remembered it randomly.”

She sits down and still avoids your eye, feeling slightly embarrassed now. Your stomach floats with a weird feeling, but you welcome it.

You sit down too. John starts to strike a conversation with you, asking you about work, to the conversation shifting to his kids.

Emerys eyes shift to you, she picks at her hands, until Jack puts his over them.

She looks up to him as he keeps his eyes on you. He takes his hand off hers and looks to her.

“So what do you think?” His expression is neutral, but anyone could tell internally he was absolutely cheesing at the thought of you two.

“Of what?”

He looks to you, then looks back at her, his expression turning into the one that says, Really?

She swallows a lump in her throat, frowns and shakes her head.

“She’s fine. Good enough resident. Don’t have any problems with her.” She looks at him with a neutral expression, or at least one that she hopes disguises the embarrassment from earlier.

“Cmon Dr. Walsh, we’re both smarter than this to know that’s absolute bullshit” he whispers. He takes a peak to you

“You’ve been eye fucking her the whole time she’s been at the Pitt. Don’t lie to me and say you don’t think she’s somewhat pretty.”

“…well you certainly didn’t help with telling her about that fucking text, did you?” She takes a long sip of her drink, he chuckles

“Alright im sorry about that; but that might be the best thing that could have happened for you. God knows you’re too stubborn to admit you think she’s cute. Maybe by acknowledging you actually give a damn, she knows you take some interest in her.”

She rubs her forehead and looks at you. As you speak with John, your eyes move to look at her for a moment, to only be met with hers looking back at you.

She looks away and whispers to Jack

“It’s not even about who she is, I’m an attending, she’s a year 2 resident. There’s a power dynamic that just feels off to me. Also, I’ve only known her one week man.”

He shrugs, “I mean I’d argue that I was attracted to Robby fairly quickly too, now look at us, married for 15 years with a 10 year old son.”

“Hmm yeah but you guys were both residents when you met, and difference was there was actually mutual attraction there, you know the key thing to a relationship?” She responds sarcastically

He chuckles and sips his drink.

“I mean, I’ve certainly caught her looking at you enough times for me to think otherwise.”

That makes her pause.

Side eyeing him, she asks

“..what do you mean..”

He smirks. “Thought you weren’t bothered about that”

“‘M not, just curious.”

He leans in closer to her

“Talk to her, get to know her more, seriously.”

She looks away from him to look at you. You’ve moved away from the booth and are now standing at the bar with some of the nurses. You are pretty, she thinks.

…

Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you all enjoyed this one :4 apologies to the person who requested this because this ask was from a whole year ago 😭 let me know if you want a pt 2 !

[lostlamblizzie]

y'all remember when she said heavy is the head that wears the crown heavy are the hips that wear the strap? that was crazy that she said that canonically. that was wild. we all remember that right

[mortalfaerie]

dr. emery walsh x fem!nurse!reader

emery walsh, who before you had only strings of short-term relationships. she told herself it was because her lifestyle and career made it hard to manage commitment, and so she didn't want it.

emery walsh, who told herself it was just a passing thing. you came to general surgery on a temporary contract to cover for one of the RNs on maternity leave. in six months, you'd be gone. that your laugh at her dry humor made her heart skip wasn't something she had time to analyze.

emery walsh, who found herself checking the whiteboard in the staff room more often than before, curious when your shifts aligned and more pleased than she ought to be when they did.

emery walsh, who hated small talk, but found reasons to linger at the nurse's station and ask about your weekend plans between patient updates.

emery walsh, who found herself actually compelled to go to the med surg holiday party - she claimed because garcia pushed her into it, but really because she saw you rsvp'd on teams.

emery walsh, who spent most of that night in the rented-out pub nursing her drink and listening to you talk with a look nobody had ever seen before from her - a contented, dopey smile and not a cutting remark in sight.

emery walsh, who decided she'd walk you home that night since you were more than a little tipsy and only lived a few blocks away.

emery walsh, who despite her assurances to herself, accepts when you ask if she wants to come in.

emery walsh, who freezes for a moment when you make the move first and kiss her, but only for a moment before she pulls you into her lap on your couch.

emery walsh, whose steady surgeon's hands actually shake with want when she pushes your thighs apart that night.

emery walsh, who wakes up the next morning and nonchalantly confirms it's just sex, and doesn't have to mean anything at work.

emery walsh, who keeps finding reasons to seek you out, to request unnecessary patient updates and re-read lab results she already knows inside and out, just to have you near.

emery walsh, who also keeps finding reasons to end up in your bed - or hers, as it goes on - with her face between your thighs, or leaning over you with her fingers buried inside you, or under you while you ride her strap.

emery walsh, who realizes while making pancakes on a sunday morning when you kiss her cheek on the way to the coffee machine, that it isn't just sex anymore.

emery walsh, who slips up and calls you baby in bed, and feels her head spin when you make her say it again.

emery walsh, who on a rainy afternoon after you've slept off the nightshift together, can't help it anymore and blurts out, what are we?

emery walsh, who watches with rapt attention the way your breath catches and you turn your face to her on the pillow, as you ask, what do you want us to be?

emery walsh, who feels her mouth go dry as she finds an answer. she's never been good with articulating her feelings, and sarcasm has been her crutch for decades. but she can't be dry and cutting now, not when it matters most. so she swallows hard and tries, i like being with you. i like having you in my apartment, my car, my life - i don't want it to end when you leave the hospital next month.

emery walsh, who feels her heart stop and start again, she swears it, when you lay a hand on her chest and say, then ask me to stay. say the words.

emery walsh, who barely recognizes her own voice as she says, stay. i want you to stay. i want to be with you. i want this to last.

emery walsh, who has never felt comfortable with commitment or lasting plans or any kind of label before, tries out the word girlfriend. partner. fiancée. wife.

emery walsh, who moved you into her apartment - it was the nicer one, after all - eight months after that rainy afternoon, never looks back. not when she groans about her first gray hairs to you in the bathroom mirror as you both get ready, not when she picks up the ring you pointed out once on a day only you're working, not when the glass has been smashed underfoot beneath the wedding arch or the very modern ketubah signed, not when you sat together in fertility clinic and decided you'd carry the ivf embryo conceived with her egg, not when you bring home your infant daughter for the first time, not when your tenth, twentieth, any-th anniversary passes, not when your daughter goes off to college, not when you two finally retire and at the annual reunion with friends, her old colleague yolanda teases her that if she had never pushed emery to go to that holiday party, none of it would have happened.

emery walsh, who shares an amused look with you, because it would have happened. a love like this don't come about by accident.