#dark!robby

What he doesn’t expect is for his patient to take him completely off guard.

You are lying down on the bed with a patient gown on already with Robby looking at you like you have grown another head.

“What seems to be your problem again?”

“I, um… my throat hurts a little, and, uhh,” you swallow harshly, biting your lip as you look at Robby with a flustered face, “I can’t seem to find my G-spot when I masturbate.”

“Right,” he flushes from his chest to cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck as he watches you with narrowed eyes, “And you came to emergency services?”

“It is an emergency! I have a date tomorrow!” You whine, giving Robby your best puppy eyes, and that is his undoing. He doesn’t know why, but the way you clutch his wrist, batting your eyelids at him, makes his cock twitch in his pants, “Please, help me?”

Robby should say no, because truthfully, what can he do for you? Except for letting his desires control his actions, there is nothing legal he can do. 

If it were any other day, he would have refused and sent you home. Not today, not with the pulsing of his dick in his cargo pants that grow tighter each second.

“I have to lock the door for this,” he pats your thigh over the hospital gown, making you shiver immediately. He stands up and moves past the curtains, nodding at Dana over the glass doors that he’s got this, so no one would interrupt you, returning and pulling the curtain so both of you are out of sight, “Alright, let’s take a look.”

He puts on his gloves, making sure the sterilized plastic is in the right place before he stands next to the bed with a dark glimmer in his eyes. Robby grabs the back of your neck with one hand while he forces your mouth open with his thumb on your chin.

“Open up for me,” you do as he says, slacking your jaw as he stares into your eyes, a satisfied smirk forming on his face, “Good girl.”

He shifts his thumb forward, caressing your bottom lip before he presses the digit on your tongue a bit roughly, making your eyes widen. Fuck, what is he doing? What is he thinking? Clearly, he can’t think now with how he is replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger, pushing them further into your mouth.

“You said your throat hurt?” He asks mindlessly, he already knows it was a lie to get admitted, he is just playing with you, and he likes it, “Tell me where it hurts, here?”

He presses his fingers against the back of your tongue, pouting a little when you don’t gag immediately, so with a newfound determination, he pushes his fingers further down, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” he kisses your hairline as he slowly starts moving his fingers in and out of your mouth, the bitter taste of the plastic filling your senses, “You know what would have your sore throat gone? Sucking on my fingers.”

You don’t need to be told twice, wrapping your lips around his fingers before sucking them gently, swirling your tongue around the hard glove while he keeps thrusting his fingers, making you gag and moan around his hand.

“Is it gone now, sweetheart?” He pulls his fingers out, tapping your cheek to get your attention when you cough and gasp for air, eyes hazy with pleasure, “Answer me.”

“Y-yes, doctor,” you nod quickly, shifting to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs open slowly before you look at him with dilated pupils, “But I wasn’t here just for that.”

“Be patient,” he scolds you gently before he moves to  the end of the bed, eyes finding your bare pussy under the gown, chuckling in disbelief as he stares at your wet folds, “You said you couldn’t find your G-spot?”

“Mhmm, can you… Help me?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he pushes you back on the bed with a hand on your chest, holding your legs up by propping your knees over his forearms, thumbs pushing your labia aside so he can inspect your winking hole, “We-he-ll, this is quite unexpected. Are you always this wet, or did you get wet just from sucking on my fingers?”

“I… don’t know, doctor.” You bite your lip in embarrassment, watching as he frowns and presses the tip of his thumb inside you gently.

“It’s okay, don’t hurt that pretty little head of yours,” he says, putting your right foot on the bed before he changes his angle and pushes a finger inside you, making you gasp, “How does it feel?”

“Good, but-but not enough–”

“We’ll get there, don’t worry,” he reassures you, thrusting his finger inside you at a very slow pace, making you whine and spread your legs more, “Greedy. You’re here for me to treat you, so don’t rush my examination.”

He is so hard that he thinks he might be leaking through his boxers. Looking at the way your cunt swallows his finger before he adds another one, he smiles at the idea of knowing your body without trying.

Robby adds another finger, now going faster, the sound of your wetness echoing in the room as you pant and dig your nails into your thighs, keeping them open when he leans down to watch your cunt closely, grinning from ear to ear as he notices the quivering in your legs.

“Does it feel nice?” You want to nod, but your nod gets lost in a deep throat moan when he curves his fingers inside you, brushing them against your sweet spot with ease, “How about now? Bet it feels fucking great, huh?”

“Yes, oh, yes, doctor–”

“Robby, it’s Doctor Robby.” he keeps his pace, driving his gloved fingers into your pussy, dragging the thick digits over your spongy walls while you try to keep your voice down as he nudges your G-spot over and over.

“Doctor Robby!” You gasp, hand flying to curl around his wrist, keeping him there as you come, gushing your wetness around his hand, “Fuck, fuck–”

“We’re not done yet,” he tilts his head and smiles, eyes glinting with mischief as he pulls his fingers down after he fucks you through your high, taking off the drenched glove before he throws it into the basket, moving to grab the ultrasound and bring them closer to where he is standing between your legs, “I have to take a look now. It might feel cold.”

He pushes your gown up under your breasts, squeezing a gel over your lower abdomen before he presses the transducer on your skin, looking at the screen closely.

“Hold this for me for a moment, sweetheart,” he doesn't spare a glance at you before he drops the device and reaches for his glasses in his pocket, putting them on before he grabs it from you, “Thank you, now, let’s see.”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“I wanna make you come around my dick now, and we gotta see and watch why you can’t reach your g-spot,” he explains like it happens all the time. But it doesn’t, he doesn’t let his dark thoughts consume him every day, he doesn’t have these thoughts every day anyway. There is just something about the way you spread yourself open for him willingly, like a buffet, and let him feast on you without an ounce of regret.

“That’ll… help me?” 

“Of course, of course,” he nods and reaches with one hand to undo his belt, pushing his cargo pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free, “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You gasp when you look down; his cock is big, heavy, and fat with a leaking red tip that makes you drool. You can literally see how his balls are aching to be empty.

“Look at the screen,” he taps your thigh in warning before he lines up his dick with your entrance, pushing you slowly, groaning when he sees the imprint of himself inside you through the screen. 

He glances at you, mouth wide open and tongue lolling out, watching intensely as he pushes forward until he is bottoming out, and he sees how you throw your head back in pleasure.

“You’re so big–”

“Look at the screen, you can see and feel at the same time,” he groans out the words, pulling out a little before he starts thrusting inside you languidly, setting up the pace just as he likes, fucking you faster when he catches a glimpse of your arched back and trembling lips.

Angling his hips just a bit, he manages to hit your sweet spot with ease, and every thrust makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“You should only let me do your exams from now on.” his thrusts get harder, deeper, faster; he can’t look away from the image of his dick pushing into you over and over through the ultrasound. He grins when he sees you nodding in agreement without a single thought in your head, “Good girl, now come for me.”

He comes at the same time as you, filling you up as your walls tighten and you release around him. He has to push his fingers past your lips to quiet you while you cry out in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut and thighs shaking.

“Fuck, fuck–” he groans through gritted teeth, still emptying himself inside you with shallow thrusts, closing his eyes to enjoy his orgasms as best as possible.

The recovery is speedy; he pulls out and cleans the mess around his cock with a wet wipe before he gives you tissues and tucks himself back in his pants, the wet gloves long gone.

“Do you feel better?” He asks, filling your chart as he waits for you to get ready, occasionally glancing at you, catching the path his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your thigh, a wide, satisfied smile on his face.

The sound of the clipboard getting tossed on to the table in front of you makes you flinch. The metal hitting the table made a very loud noise and echoed throughout the room. Robby looked beyond pissed. More than he ever had within the past week. You had just started the first round of your internship. It was going fine at first, but you had been making several, very costly mistakes the past few days.

"How is it that you fucked up a chest tube so badly, have you ever put one in before today?" Robby questioned, clearly exasperated. You kept your head down, looking at the dark wood table in front of you. Robby had thankfully shut the door of the break room so others wouldn't hear.

You refused to look up at him. But you could hear him pacing back and forth behind you. You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head back and forth slightly. You were also taken back by how poorly you had just performed in front of everyone.

"I- I don't know sir. I promise I've practiced them so many times." You replied, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You picked at the skin around the nail bed on your left thumb and bit your lip. "I've practiced them on dummies and cadavers, I just got confused and overwhelmed I think." You hear him stop pacing. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch up your face. You were in for it now.

"You got confused?" His voice raised a little from before. He comes over and stands in front of you. He rests both palms on the table. You can feel his glare. You refuse to look up at him. "This is such a simple procedure, one you should never get confused by. Especially if you've practiced before. This isn't the first time you've screwed up this week."

You continue to stare down at the table. You're frozen in place. You let him berate you because you deserved it. "I know and I'm sorry. I should have asked Langdon before starting the bi-pap on that patient." You finally take a chance and look up at him now.

He was staring directly at you. He leaned forward. "Let's not forget when you almost shredded that poor woman's vocal cords when intubating her." He narrowed his eyes. "This is really easy stuff. You should know better." He had gotten closer to you when he leaned forward, and you could smell a mixture of his natural musk, deodorant, and cologne. You hated that it made something in your stomach drop.

You stared up blankly at him. Despite him reprimanding you currently, he was so incredibly attractive to you. His hair was still a lovely dark brown without any greys even though he was in his fifties. However, his beard was decorated with greys here and there. His deep brown eyes penetrated your soul and it was turning you on by the second. He had a longer nose that jutted out from his face a little but you always had a thing for larger noses. You swallowed hard. He had been talking but you weren't listening.

"I'm really disappointed with your performance here as of late. I think you need to either study more or consider a different practice." That last sentence had brought you right straight back down to earth.

"What? No I want to be here. I've studied my ass off these past four years." You were in disbelief. How could he say that?

Robby raised his eyebrow at you. "Oh yeah? Well to me it looks like you've been fumbling around, completely clueless of what you're doing." He said firmly.

Your mouth fell open but you were quick to close it. It was your turn to glare at him.

"Excuse me? How fucking dare you speak to me like this." You didn't apologize for swearing. You knew it was unprofessional but you didn't care. He was being so mean.

He scoffed at you. "Well you keep folding under pressure and making countless mistakes. These peoples lives are at stake. These mistakes add up, and they could cost someone their life. It almost did today with that chest tube." He cocked his head to the side, and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just being honest."

You felt like you could explode with a mixture of shame and anger. But you didn't want to completely lose it on him. He was your attending, and he could be much worse. You had been through worse with the instructors in med school.

You sigh, slumping your shoulders, and lean back into the chair. "Ok well, what do you suggest?" Clueless as to how you were going to recover from this. You could study as much as you want but that only showed you so much.

Robby sighed, and crossed his arms, straightening up his stance. "Well, I have some practice materials at my apartment. Its not far from here and I'm off tomorrow. You could come by and I can show you how it's done. Not my ideal way to spend my day off but it's better than you killing somebody." He said with an annoyed tone.

You bit your lip again, considering the offer. You notice his eyes flicker down to your mouth. You feel your stomach stir again. Going over to his apartment sounded crazy but if he had stuff to practice with it sounded beneficial. Maybe it would help him get off your back.

You nodded your head. "Yeah. OK. I can do that. I get off at 7pm tomorrow. I could come over then?" Robby grabbed a small note book out of his pocket. He fished a pen out of his cargo pants and scribbled on the paper. "Here's my address. I'll be expecting you around 7:30. Don't be late." He grumbled. He slipped the paper over to you.

You took it and read the address. You looked back up at him, putting the paper in your pocket. "I'll be there." You said firmly. Robby gave you a small nod. "Try not to fuck anything else up today please." He mumbled as he walked out of the break room.

********************************

Standing in front of Doctor Robbys apartment felt so strange. This was a scenario you never thought you would find yourself in. You were nervous. You had showered quickly after your shift ended and hurriedly threw some mascara on. You wanted to look decent for whatever reason. You had thrown on some athletic shorts, and a t-shirt before you had left. You wished you had brought a nicer change of clothes but you didn't want to appear eager to be here.

You shook you head a little to get the nerves out. "You can do this. He only offered to help because he wants you to be better" you reminded yourself internally. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Within a few seconds Robby opened the door. He stared down at you and then glanced at the watch on his wrist. "You're late." He said with a hint of annoyance. You cross your arms across your chest. "It's only 7:32. It's close enough." "Yeah, and I said don't be late." you rolled your eyes. "Come on man, I worked all day and I'm here to learn." Robby let out a little huff of agreement, and motioned with his head to come in.

Walking past the threshold of the door, you peered around his apartment. Shockingly, it was decorated quite tastefully. It was an older apartment, with high ceilings and tall windows. "Wow. Nice place ya got. Way better than the new apartments I live in on West 5th street." you noted. Robby gave you a nod, but stayed silent. His walls were decorated with so many different concert posters, you were kind of shocked his apartment displayed so any personality.

"Right well we aren't here to talk about my house are we?" Robby brushed past you. As he lead you over to the table, you noticed he was wearing grey sweatpants. You had only ever seen him wear cargo pants before, and you cursed yourself internally for checking him out.

"So, I've got chest tubes, and endotracheal tubes for you to work with here on our friend" He taps the chest of the mannequin laying on the table. You shrug your backpack off and on to one of the chairs. "Doctor Robby, is this really necessary?" you questioned. He nods his head and put his hand on his hip. "Absolutely. I really don't want to see you insert a chest tube into someones lung like you almost did yesterday." You roll your eyes. "That was an accident. I couldn't get the angle right" He shakes his head with a small smile on his face. "By the time we're done here, you'll be able to put one in with your eyes closed."

**************************************

After about an hour and a half, you were sure you actually could put a chest tube in with your eyes shut. Robby had taught you how to use the feeling of the organs, tissue, and muscle rather than trying to use your technical knowledge. "Alright, time to intubate." he said while tearing off the plastic of the practice tube. You wiped your brow with the back of your hand. "I swear that one I did with that woman was a one time thing, I can intubate." He looked at you sternly. "Come on, it won't take long. Come over here and watch me." He beckoned you with two fingers.

You felt something stir in your stomach watching his fingers make that motion. You had been staring at fingers and hands all night. His hands were so large compared to yours. When he was instructing you with the chest tube you were so distracted at how thick his fingers were. You had to stop yourself so many times from imagining how they would feel inside you.

You took a few steps toward him and stood beside him, lowering yourself so your head was next to the mannequins. You glanced up at Robby. He was so intimidating at work, and somehow even more so since you were in his home. Looking up at him from the angle was making her brain short circuit.

"Ok the trick to intubation is really similar to the chest tube. It's based on feel more than anything. Yes it helps to have a light and a scope but I don't want you to rely on that."

"Shouldn't I always be using a light that way I don't mess up and scrape the chords?"

"Yes but there have been times I've had to place one without a light. One time on my rotation with the paramedics, I had to place one where I couldn't even see the patients mouth. He was stuck under some rubble."

You raise your eyebrows. "How is that even possible?" you questioned.

"That's a story for another day." He smiled down at you. "Watch me."

You concentrated on watching Robby place the intubation tube down the mannequins throat. He didn't use a scope or a light. He was so fast with it. "Go ahead, make sure it's placed right." He gestured with his hand towards the tube. He moves a little to the side, so you can see. You took a step over to see. It was perfectly placed.

You narrow your eyes and look up at him. God he was so handsome, you couldn't stop thinking about his soft brown eyes and how they could change from delicate and kind to sharp and intense in a split second.

"Teach me" you say. He smirks. Oh you were done for.

You stand up straight and he moves even closer to you, never breaking eye contact.

"Alright here, put your hand on this part of the trachea." He takes your hand and guides it to the upper part of where the trachea starts on the mannequin. Christ his hands were warm. They were a little rough too. His hand completely encapsulated you own. "Do you feel this right here?" It was a small, barely noticeable bump.

"Um...not really. Am I able to feel it on myself?" He took his hand off yours and sighed. "Ok turn your body and look at me". You shifted your body so you were fully facing him now. He peered down at you with an unreadable expression.

He lifted his hand, and brought it up towards the base of your neck. It floated only a few inches above your skin. Close enough to where you felt the warmness radiating off of it.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, his voice sounded rougher, but quiet.

"Please?" It slipped out before you had a chance to think. You hear his breath hitch a little

"Excuse me?" He says.

"I meant yes.....I'm-I'm sorry." you fumbled over your words

His hand moves a few inches up and clamps firmly around your neck.

"No that's not what I heard. I think I heard a "please" come out of that little mouth of yours."

"I-it did but it was an accident sir I promise." a whimper escapes from your throat at the end of your sentence.

A dark chuckle comes out of his mouth. He steps closer and completely invades your space. He whispers in your ear now.

"Is this what you wanted when you came here? To try and see if I would fuck you or not? See if it would help me overlook your stupid mistakes?" He says gravely.

"No...im..uh..not sure.." You whine. You feel his other hand come up and he threads his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a tug.

"Not sure huh? Don't fucking lie to me now." He removes his hand from your throat, and moves it down to the front of the waistband of your shorts.

"I'm- I'm not I....I did genuinely need some help but....I don't know I just...." You sputtered. You really weren't sure what your true reason was coming here.

"Just what? Wanted to try and tempt me to sleep with one of my students?" He moved his mouth away from your ear and tugged on your hair harder. You whimper. His fingers dipped a bit beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were hot against your skin. "Guess I'll have to teach you yet another lesson huh? What happens when you try and take on more than you can handle."

His hand leaves you hair and he sweeps the mannequin and medical materials off the table in one motion. They clang loudly to the floor. He pushes you on to your stomach, your cheeks are flat against the cool table. He takes both your hands and puts them behind you, against your lower back. He pushes his lower half into the backs of your thighs. You can feel his hard cock. You shudder from how thick he felt.

"I knew you were a fuckin' slut." He rips your shorts down, they pool around your ankles. You whimper. "I'm...I'm not a slut" you protest. He presses his cock harder into the bare thighs. The feeling makes your eyes flutter.

He lets out a cruel laugh. "I know you don't believe that for a goddamn second. I've barely touched you and I can see the little damp spot on those pretty panties you're wearing." You blush. He was right, you had been wet since the second he guided your hand on to the mannequins throat.

You feel his fingers pull your underwear to the side. He lets out a low whistle. "Fuck baby, you're soaked. Drippin' all down your legs." You tremble and moan. You feel him shift his weight and lower himself. "Gotta have a taste before I ruin ya."

He licks a long stripe from your clit to your dripping hole, gripping your ass cheeks while doing so. He groans into your pussy. You let out a loud moan and rock your core onto his face. He moans back. "Oh you're filthy baby. Taste so fucking sweet too." His tongue swirls around your clit, and his fingers prod at your entrance. You squirm and try to open your legs more.

He inserts two fingers into you and your eyes roll back a little in your head. You knew they would feel amazing inside you. "Does that feel good baby?" You can barely think, but you mumble out a breathy "yes". He stands up as he He pumps them in and out, achingly slow.

"Knew you would be tight but goddamn sweetheart, you're fuckin squeezing me. We'll make it work though." He goes faster now, the sounds your cunt is making fills the room, echoing off the walls.

He lets go of your hands finally and goes to untuck his cock from his sweatpants. He doesn't even take them off fully, just enough to get the job done. He takes his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss.

You turn your head to look behind you. You see him using your slick on his fingers to coat his cock. Your eyes widen. He's big. At least 8 inches, and girthy. His balls rest on the band of his sweatpants, and you see some of his public hair. It's dark brown and looks like it leads into a happy trail but you can't be sure. He notices you watching, but doesn't stop. He makes direct eye contact with you. "Got so wet for me baby I didn't want it to go to waste. It's going to be a tight fit but you can take it." You shudder at his depravity and resume looking face forward. You spread your legs even more for him, sticking your ass out more in the process.

He gives you a spank as he lines up his cock to your hole. "That's my good girl. Finally fuckin learning something." He thrusts inside you and a guttural groan leaves your throat. He's huge. You're certain you've never had anyone this big before. Every inch feels like an eternity, but you love each second of it. He grants you mercy by taking it slow at first.

He gripes your hips tightly as he gets deeper and deeper. Hissing when he's fully inside. "Jesus christ honey you're fucking choking my cock here. Feels incredible." He starts to thrust in and out now, they're deep, punching thrusts. If his cock was any bigger, it would be too much.

He tightens his grip around your hips even more. You know you're going to have small, fingerprint shaped bruises there in the morning. A part of you can't wait to admire them in mirror. You moan and grip the table. desperate to hold on to something has he pounds into you.

"Wish you could see yourself right now. This slutty pussy looks so good wrapped around this cock." One of his hands leaves your waist and goes to your clit. The second his finger makes contact with you you're a whimpering mess. "Fuck Robby that feels so good" you moan, your eyes fluttering.

He goes faster now, his thrusts controlled but quick. His finger swirling around your clit in a concentrated motion.

"Mhmm I bet it does baby, you're sounding like a proper whore now. All because you love this cock so much." You want to protest but you can't. He's right. This is the best sex you've had in your life.

He leans forward, stuffing you completely full of his cock. It makes your vision blur and you cry out. He whispers in your ear, his finger still on your clit. "There's no stopping this now. You'll take this cock whenever I want. In the back hallway at work, in the break room, the bathroom. There's no end to this now. And you'll take it because you love it."

In some sick and twisted way, you enjoyed the images running through your head. Him fucking you at any moment. You were his to claim, and if anyone found out you both would be done for. All you could do was shake your head and whimper a "yes sir."

He straightens up and goes faster, sloppy thrusts now. You both were about to reach your climax. He puts more pressure on your clit and moves quicker than before, the fine controlled movements making you tremble. "I'm....I'm so close." your words coming out in pants.

"Me too honey, this pussys too good I can't last for long." In between thrusts he mumbles a "We'll have to work on that, huh?". You grip the table as best as you can and feel your orgasm coming in waves. Encompassing your whole body.

You feel his hips stutter and he pulses inside you. He groans and his grip on your waist is deadly, the pressure on your clit from his other hand is overwhelming. You squirm underneath him from it.

You're both breathing heavily and remain that way for a minute. Both of you coming down from your high. He finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and down the inner parts of your legs. You're feeling too good to care.

He tucks himself back into his pants. His forehead glistens with sweat. You lean down and with one arm you tug your underwear and shorts back on. You straighten up from your bent over position. He puts his hand on your shoulder, and turns you around to face him.

"You ok?" he asks, but it feels more like he's checking in with you. You nod. He nods back. "Good."

You both stare at a each other for a minute, unsure what to say next. It's strangely a comfortable silence.

You turn around and grab your backpack. "It's getting late, I should go." you say, while shakily shrugging your backpack on.

He walks towards you and puts his hand on your arm. "Just tell me no and this can stop."

“Morning,” he replied. “Trauma arriving in five.”

You nodded and hurried toward the locker room to stow your belongings. Robby watched you go, noting the confidence in your stride that had developed over your time in the ED. You were becoming the doctor he knew you could be. The doctor he was helping you become. His guidance wasn’t obsession. It was care. Mentorship. His constant awareness of your schedule was protection. You needed someone to look after you and who better than himself.

Throughout the morning, Robby orchestrated things in his favor. He reviewed your charts, standing close enough your shoulders nearly touched. He caught the faint scent of your shampoo, the familiar lavender aroma that he’d filed away with dozens of other details.

“Your thoughts on the abdominal pain in bed four are solid.” He allowed his approval to bleed into his voice. “But consider checking an amylase level. Sometime pancreatitis hides behind more obvious presentations.”

You looked up at him with bright eyes and he felt that familiar tightness again. You belonged here, with him. You belonged to him, in a way. His student, his responsibility, his.

“Thanks. I’ll order that right away.”

Your gratitude nourished something hungry inside of him. He lived for these moments when you looked at him with respect, with need. Each time you sought his guidance, it reinforced the bond he was building between you.

Later in the morning, three victims arrived from an MVA. He assigned you to the most stable patient, knowing you could handle the preliminaries without him hovering over your shoulder. He positioned himself where he could keep an eye on you while he oversaw the care on the more critical patients.

You worked methodically, your hands steady as you assessed the woman’s injuries. When you struggled to get a good visualization of the wound on the back of her head, Robby appeared at your side as if summoned.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, moving behind you. His hand found your shoulder, steadying you both though neither of you needed it. The contact lasted five seconds longer than necessary. He counted. “Angle the light like this.”

His arm brushed against yours as he adjusted the overhead lamp. “It’s okay to ask for help when you need it,” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear.

The trauma bay buzzed with activity but in that moment, it felt like he existed in a bubble with just the two of you. He savored these intimate professional moments. They were as close as he was allowed to come to you so far.

After the trauma cases were stabilized, you approached him at the hub, a coffee in each hand. You offered one to him with a smile. “A thank you for being tall enough to adjust my lighting.”

He huffed a laugh and returned your smile, the expression softening the lines around his eyes. His fingers brushed yours as he accepted the cup and he felt a spark. Surely it was static from the dry air, but perhaps it was something more. A confirmation from the universe that you were his.

“You’re one of our best residents. I’m always happy to help.” He meant every word.

As your shift continued, Robby found himself creating reasons to be wherever you were, despite there being another attending on shift. He made sure it was him that reviewed your orders. Him that you asked to consult on your patients. He created teaching moments that required his physical presence beside you. Each interaction professional on its face, each underlaid with his growing need to be near you. These were acts of protection. You needed his guidance to become the exceptional doctor he knew you could be.

When you thanked him again at the end of a particularly difficult case, the warmth in your eyes made him ache with want. His gaze trailed you as you walked away to check on another patient. You weren’t as put together as you had been at the beginning of your shift as fatigue took its toll. But still, you never complained. Never missed a beat. The sight of you, dedicated and determined, strengthened his resolve.

You were special. You needed his guidance, his protection. And if that sometimes meant knowing more about your life than you’d explicitly shared with him, well, that was just part of his responsibility to look after you.

Robby turned to the computer in front of him and pulled up the schedule for the next month. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he began the process of ensuring your shifts aligned perfectly with his. It wasn’t obsession. It was care.

“There,” he murmured completing the final adjustment. Four weeks of perfectly aligned schedules. Multiple shifts where he could guide you, protect you, keep you close.

At the end of shift, Robby stood outside the ambulance bay pretending to check his phone as he waited for you to leave. You bid him farewell and he gave you a nod. He waited until you were half a block away before following, maintaining the precise distance he’d perfected over weeks of practice. Close enough he could intervene if needed, far enough to avoid detection.

The fading sunlight caught your hair as you walked, creating patterns he committed to memory. As he crossed the street to maintain his distance, he was thankful that he had this opportunity to protect you. The neighborhood between PTMC and your apartment wasn’t dangerous, exactly, but it wasn’t entirely safe either. Three muggings in the last year. A woman walking alone was vulnerable. You were vulnerable. He had appointed himself your guardian whether you knew it or not.

You slowed your pace as you approached the corner market as was your usual Thursday routine. Robby slipped into the shadow of the bus shelter removing a small notebook from the pocket of his scrubs. He made note of the time you entered the store.

The windows allowed him to track your movements through the aisles. Robby wrote every selection down, pleased to see you’d chosen relatively healthy options. Your diet had improved since he’d begun observing you. As if somehow you knew he was watching, encouraging better choices.

You emerged from the store, reusable bag swinging from your hand, and continued toward your apartment. Robby waited exactly seventeen seconds before resuming his pursuit. The distance between you remained constant. When you reached your building, you paused to check your mailbox in the lobby. Robby stopped at the corner across the street, partially concealed by a delivery truck.

You sorted through envelopes, tossing some into the nearby trashcan. The elevator doors opened and you stepped inside. Robby watched the display change through the lobby windows. Seventh floor. Your floor. He remained in place until your lights came on and he felt a surge of satisfaction. Safe. You were safe. He had ensured it.

Only then did Robby cross the street. Not toward your building, but to the one directly opposite. He nodded at the security guard who’d grown accustomed to his comings and goings over the past several months.

The elevator in his building was slower than yours and he tapped his foot impatiently as it creaked upward to the seventh floor. This wasn’t his primary residence, of course. The neighborhood wasn’t near nice enough for the home he intended to provide for you. It was just a layover in his protective mission. A necessary detour.

The apartment door swung open to reveal a relatively barren space. A single chair faced the window with a table beside it. The only addition to the usual appliances in the kitchen was a coffeemaker. There was an XL twin pushed along one wall. He preferred to sleep here. The bedroom didn’t overlook your apartment. It would be too easy to lose track of you.

The walls, however, were the masterpiece of his apartment. Dozens of photos of you covered every wall of the living room. You exiting your apartment. You buying coffee. You laughing with a nurse. You sleeping on a gurney in the on-call room, a photo taken when he’d found you there taking a much needed break during a twenty-four hour shift. He’d stood watching you sleep for a full five minutes before capturing the image with his phone.

The photos were arranged chronologically, creating a visual timeline of his observation. Post-it notes accompanied some images, noting significant events or pattern changes. Your coffee order changed slightly in May. You’d bought new shoes to wear on your days off in July.

Robby moved to the window where high-powered binoculars waited on the small table. He settled into the chair, adjusting the focus slightly. You moved about your kitchen, visible through your uncovered windows. He watched you unpack groceries, put a frozen dinner in the microwave and pour a glass of wine.

After seeing your selections, he went to the freezer and grabbed an identical meal to put in his own microwave. He allowed himself a beer instead of the wine you preferred. Surely you wouldn’t begrudge him that small concession. He pulled the notebook from his pocket along with a blue pen and flipped to today’s entry. His handwriting, precise and tight, detailed your movements throughout the day.

He categorized your behaviors by color: blue ink for normal everyday patterns, green for social activities, red for anything that might suggest romantic interactions. The red sections were frustratingly sparse, but that would soon change. He’d make sure of it.

His phone buzzed on the table where he’d left it just as the microwave beeped. He grabbed his meal and his beer and moved back to the chair. He glanced at his phone. The notification wasn’t meant for him. It was from the cloning program he’d installed on your phone three weeks ago. He’d been prepared, looking for the opportunity and it had presented itself so perfectly. The two of you had been sitting in the lounge taking a coffee break when you were called away to check on a patient. You’d left your phone on the table. Your unlocked phone. It had taken him less than three minutes to install the mirroring software.

“Now I can make sure nothing happens to her,” he said as he returned your phone exactly as you’d left it.

Now he scanned the text message from someone named Marissa. He recognized the name as someone you chatted with on occasion.

Marissa: Hey! Still on for drinks Saturday? Jason’s bringing that guy from radiology that wants to meet you. Don’t bail this time.

Robby’s jaw tightened. That guy from radiology. He scrolled through his mental database of the radiology department. Must be the new guy, Wilson. Young. A handsome face that made the nurses giggle when he walked by.

Unacceptable.

He made a note in his book. Potential social engagement Saturday evening. Intervention required.

His fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. Intervention didn’t have to mean anything dramatic. Sometimes it was as simple as ensuring you were assigned a complex case near the end of your shift. He wasn’t controlling your life, he was protecting your career. This radiologist would only distract you from your potential. Robby had seen countless promising residents sidetracked by relationships. He wouldn’t let that happen to you. You needed someone that ensure you thrived. That encouraged you and understood the demands of an emergency physician.

The notification of your reply came through.

You: I’ll be there. Been on with Robby all week. Need a night out. Who’s the mystery guy?

Robby’s lips curved into a smile despite the jealousy churning in his guy. You’d mentioned him by name. Been thinking about him. You found working with him demanding enough to make you crave release. Good. He was present in your thoughts.

He wrote another note. Mentions me specifically to friends. Growing attachment evident.

The idea of you discussing him with others pleased him. Were you telling them how he guided you? How his hands steadied yours when needed? How he always managed to appear right when you needed assistance?

A new alert.

Marissa: Cole Wilson. Tall, dark and SINGLE. He mentioned you to Jason after seeing you in the ED last week. When J said he knew you Cole asked him to hook him up.

The pen in Robby’s hand snapped, blue ink staining his fingers. He cursed and reached for a tissue to clean the mess, knowing it wouldn’t do much good until he could scrub at the sink. The momentary loss of control was unacceptable. He was better than this. More disciplined. Especially when it came to you. He took three measured breaths to center himself. The rush of anger subsided into a more manageable simmer. This was simply another obstacle to overcome.

He grabbed his laptop out of the drawer and logged into the remote scheduling software. With critical precision he assigned you to a 24-hour shift on Saturday spanning from 0700 to 0700 Sunday. He then placed himself on the same shift. They system would send notification emails tomorrow morning.

Problem solved. No drinks with Marissa. No meeting with the radiologist. Instead, you would spend those hours with him, learning, growing as a physician under his watchful eye. He grabbed a new pen and wrote a final note. Saturday plans interrupted. Will suggest post-shift breakfast Sunday to compensate for missed social engagement. Build trust.

Robby tucked the notebook back into his pocket and finally took a bite of his now lukewarm dinner. He ran through a mental checklist of the day’s accomplishments. Schedule arranged, movements documented, communications monitored, potential threats identified and neutralized. This was care in its purest, most dedicated form

He watched you scroll through your phone as you finished your dinner in the apartment across from him. The domesticity of the moment struck him with unexpected force. One day, he wouldn’t need the binoculars. One day, he would be there with you, sharing these quiet moments.

Robby reached for his phone. He composed and deleted several texts before settling on the right tone.

Great job today. Get some rest.

Professional. Caring. The kind of message any attending might send a promising resident. Your response came quickly.

Thanks! See you tomorrow.

He smiled, warmth spreading through him as he looked up and saw you smiling at your phone. At his message. At him.

“Soon you’ll understand how perfect we are together.”