Bullet Proof Love

SET AFTER:

The Neurologist - Robby doesn’t think much of Jack’s friend The Neurologist…

Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.

Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.

The Voicemail - Robby puts the final nail in the coffin of your marriage when he leaves THAT voice mail.

Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can’t help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don’t respond to his message

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Shepherd - Robby’s world is turned upside down when he receives a call from Derek Shepherd.

Husband Number Two - Robby gets into it with the man vying for the role of Husband Number Two in your life.

You’re upset.

Robby can hear it in your voice as he pauses outside your hospital room, his phone in one hand, typing out an update message for Jack, and a wholewheat egg wrap in the other, great brainfood for a concussion.

He’d left you dressing this morning to go in search of breakfast and now you’re apparently reaming folks out. Over what he can’t tell, he can only hear the frustration in your heart, the anger. Both things that are absolutely terrible for you in your current condition.

He pushes open the door to find you standing across from Shepherd and Owen. Your hip is cocked, one hand resting upon it. Two fingers of the other are rubbing at the space between your brows as if trying to ward off a headache, something very common with your type of head injury.

“What’s going on?” He says as he steps inside the room, slipping his phone into his back pocket. It vibrates once, Jack asking for more details, no doubt.

Owen huffs, his arms crossed over this chest, the left side of his mouth twisting up in distaste at Robby’s presence. “I thought you would have disappeared by now.”

It’s a dig, a kidney blow that’s meant to disarm him because yeah, Robby did disappear from his marriage, he owns that. The point is he’s here now, and he’s the one standing in your corner, not these two fuckwits you’ve been working with for the past few years.

“I don’t do that anymore.” He states, handing you the breakfast wrap. You take it gratefully, biting into it with an aggression he’s only witnessed on those nature shows he puts on at night to fall asleep to.

Owen scoffs, rolling his eyes and it takes everything in Robby not to react, because this isn’t about him and the ‘feud’ him and Owen seem to have. It’s about you, the woman who is so pissed off she’s practically vibrating.

“I was just telling Viv she won’t be taking her road trip.” Shepherd palm scrubs over his jaw as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry Viv, I just don’t feel comfortable clearing you to drive or flying just yet.”

You look like you want to throw the wrap at him. But instead, you stay silent, chewing with the quiet intensity of someone who is clearly plotting a murder.

Robby gets it. You’re a Type A personality, highly organised, very time orientated. This move to Pittsburgh has a lot of deadlines, including your employment date, picking up the keys to your new apartment, being there when your shipped items turn up. And then there’s the road trip.

The two of you always talked about taking one but then the study had come up and the marriage had collapsed…

This time around it was meant to be a break, something that you were finally doing for yourself after being in the service of others for so long. And now that’s crumbling around you too.

“Look Viv.” Owen steps forward, his voice softer now as if approaching a skittish animal. You look at him with similar eyes, like you don’t know whether to scratch him the fuck up or run. “I know you have to be out of your place by the end of the day. I’ve got plenty of space at my condo, why don’t you stay a couple of days…”

Your shoulders sag, the mental exhaustion of this whole situation physically weighing you down. You tilt your head away, blinking quickly and Robby realises there’s a very real possibility that you’re about to cry.

And he fucking hates it.

“I’ll drive.” Robby says softly. His hand skates along your upper back, palm rubbing gently between your shoulder blades to sooth away the stiffness that grips your entire body like a taut guitar string ready to snap. “I need to head back to Pittsburgh anyway. You can still make the road trip, do all the things you want to, and…” He casts a glance at Shepherd who watches the exchange passively. “They’ll be a doctor on call to keep an eye on you every step of the way.”

“That’s acceptable to me.” Shepherd says, his lips pursing together into a grim line as he steps towards you. “I know how much you want to get out of here after what happened with the study. I’ll get your discharge papers sorted out and then you can be on your way.”

The weight of those words hangs in the air between the two of you, an undercurrent of tension that Robby’s been picking up on ever since he received that phone call.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you Dr Robinavitch.” Shepherd holds out his hand for you to shake.

You don’t take it, instead you tuck your own hands into the pockets of your own jacket, the ultimate snub to his gesture. “I don’t think I can say the same Dr Shepherd.”

It’s Shepherd’s turn to look away. “I really wish-”

“Wishes won’t help the people that were on that trial Derek.” Your voice is harsh, cold. A tone Robby’s never heard from you, not even at the lowest points of your marriage. “If you could get those discharge papers…

He nods before pulling away, heading towards the door. Light floods in as he opens it, stepping out into the corridor as Owen follows after. The redhead pauses in the doorway momentarily, his shoulders tightening before he glances at you over his shoulder. “I really can’t change your mind?”

“No.” You say resolutely. His shoulders slump as he closes the door behind him, leaving you and Robby caged in together.

“I know you must have questions-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Robby holds up his hand to cut you off. He gets the feeling you’ve been forced to have a lot of conversations you don’t want to over the past few weeks. Right now, he can tell you’re tired, overwhelmed, that there are a million things running through your head, each one bumping against each other to take priority. “Not until you’re ready.”

You swallow hard, nodding your head.

“I just want to go home.” You tell him, and he knows you’re not talking about your Seattle apartment. He can see your desperation to leave this city, it’s in the way you wring your hands as you look up at him. “I fucked up my entire life for this job Michael…”

You use the back of your wrist to wipe away the salt from your cheeks and Robby can’t help but reach for you. His arms wrap around you, drawing you into the shelter of his body. You fit against him the way you always have, like this is the one place you belong in this world. You cling to him, your fists curling into his t-shirt as his lips brush over your hair.

“We both fucked up.” He whispers, closing his eyes and savouring the press of you against him. “What happened between us… it’s not all on you.”

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Companion Piece To:

The Casting Couch - Your first foray into porn starts on a casting couch with Michael “Robby” Robinavitch behind the camera.

The Photo Lab - Jack and Robby review the photographs from your audition on the casting couch.

It’s supposed to be hand job.

That’s it.

A screen test with you and Jack performing, Robby directing behind the camera and Jesse engineering the sound with a boom mic. It’s the way it usually is with an indie company, everyone jumps in, helps out where they can.

This session is meant to get you used to being in front of the camera, but the whole thing goes awry the moment you meet Jack, because the two of you…

You have chemistry that’s off the fucking charts.

The type of chemistry that would blow up the house, and burn down the whole goddamn farm if there wasn’t someone to rein you both in. Which is Robby’s job. He can choose to ride that horse all the way out to the pastures, or he can tether it, letting it work within the perimeters that have been set.

But where’s the fun in that, he thinks as he fixes the lighting, watching Jack run through the scene with you on ‘the casting couch’ they’ve stolen from Dana’s reception area to use on set. You’re wearing Daisy Duke shorts and an ACDC t-shirt, looking like a wet dream of the girl next door. Your hair falls loose across your face like a waterfall, something he knows will play well with their audience in future videos where your partner can wrap it around their fist.

That used to be something he enjoyed back when he was staring in his own movies. He liked the power it gave him, the arch of a woman’s back, the hitch of her breath when he tugged.

He chases that image out of his head, focusing on adjusting the final lamp, stealing away the shadows. Jesse gives him the thumbs up underneath his headphones to confirm he’s completed his sound checks, before he picks up the boom mic. Robby ducks back behind the camera, reviewing the first shot he has lined up. It’s the perfect framing of you and Jack on the couch. He should be able to capture everything he needs without having to detach it from the tripod.

“Alright guys we’re going to start rolling in three, two, one…”

The easiness between the two of you stays, but it slips into something raw, something heated. Transitions like this are Jack’s speciality, it’s why they pair him with the folks they screen test, but you, you match that energy and it creates an intimate atmosphere, one where a viewer can believe this is more than just porn.

“You’re nervous.” Jack remarks, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. Your body language plays to that. Hands tucked underneath your ass as if you’re scared to touch, thighs rubbing together as if you’re excited.

 You make eye contact as you speak, the left side of your mouth tilting up into a mischievous smile. “A little.” You say, nestling your face into his palm as if you’re savouring his touch. “But isn’t everyone the first time?”

Those words they’re like a gut punch. Honest, flirty, they’re enough to capture attention, to hold it because the audience will see that authenticity, in fact they’ll fall in love with it.

“Mostly.” Jack cradles your jaw, his thumb chasing over the outline of your pert mouth, dragging down your lower lip. It’s a naughty little move, meant to draw attention to that filthy pout you have going on. “But you don’t need to worry, you’re very pretty. Our viewers will love you.”

“And what will they love doing with me?” You bat back as his mouth hovers over yours.

Jack’s lips curl into a smile, one that Robby is intimately familiar. He’s enjoying this tête-à-tête. It’s something fresh, something different from the hours of mechanical fucking he undertakes. He can tell the other man wants to run with it, to see where the two of you will take the rest of the scene.

 “Can I show you?” His voice his husky, his whiskey eyes bright with adventure.

“I think you better had…” You whisper, your lips barely brushing his. “Otherwise, my imagination… it runs wild.”

Robby exchanges a glance with Jesse, the two of them trying to hide their own smiles. It’s a filthy promise, and the start of a brand that’s going to launch an income stream that springboards into so many other videos. You’re painting yourself as this insatiably creative woman. One who takes pride in claiming her own sexuality, who owns it.

That sort of woman, she’s catnip in their industry.

Something different that sets their studio apart from the ones that focus on twenty year olds featured in Dad’s Best Friend vids, and Opps I Fucked The Babysitter movies.

“We like a little bit of wildness here, in fact it really gets me going.” Jack takes your hand as he claims your mouth, guiding it to the front of his jeans. You arch into the kiss, your teeth grazing his lower lip, pulling it hard enough to elicit a low moan as you stroke his cock through the denim.

“You’re a big boy.” You tease as your fingers squeeze the very visible erection in his jeans. “You’ll have to get me nice and wet to make sure you fit the next time we’re together.”

Jack huffs a laugh against your mouth. His hand slides down the curve of your throat, fingertips toying with the neckline of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “Why don’t you take this off, show me what you’re working with?”

Your fingers hook underneath the hem, drawing it up along your torso in a slow reveal. It’s meant to be a tease, to prolong the sensuality and Jack, he runs with it, helping to guide it up your body, over that coral pink bra. He stops when the shirt covers your eyes, your mouth the only part of your face visible to him. His palm rests on your throat, his thumb tipping your jaw up to meet his mouth.

“Oh, you like being blindfolded.” He murmurs against your lips. “Maybe that’s something we can explore with some of your future videos. I could tie you up, have my wicked way with you. Maybe, I’ll even invite a friend.”

It’s another upsell, another potential hook for your fanbase to sink their teeth into but Christ, Robby finds it hard not to imagine himself in that role. Jack keeping him steady, while the two of them explore your boundaries.

Your breath hitches at the thought as he pulls the t-shirt off the rest of the way, draping it over the arm of the casting couch. His hands are back on you, smoothing over your skin, chasing over your curves as his mouth skims along the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

“These are beautiful.” He cups your breasts between his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples through the bra. He teases them into peaks so that they strain against the lace. It’s a titillation, a maddening one that will keep everyone watching as they wait for the reveal. “I can imagine how good my cock would look like between them.”

His mouth delves lower, his stubble kissing your skin as he seeks out your left nipple. He draws it into his mouth, sucking it through the fabric, making your body arch against his. Your hand threads through his relentless grey curls, gripping them as your head tilts back, hair spilling over your shoulders so Robby can get a clearer shot of the action.

“Maybe we switch it up a little.” Jack murmurs, turning his attention to the other breast, his teeth nipping at that needy little bud through the lace. “Maybe I jerk off all over your tits instead, show our viewers how good you’d look covered in their cum. Would you like that?”

It’s a question, one of consent for you and a heads up for Robby to change his positioning. You respond by reaching behind you and unhooking your bra, it falls away revealing the most perfect, natural tits that Robby has ever seen. “Well lover, I wouldn’t want you to make a mess on my brand-new lingerie, not after I took all that time choosing it especially for you.”

Another hook for the audience, another thing that brings that sense of connection. They all know you didn’t choose it for Jack, you chose it for them, so they could see you take it off.

Jack’s hand moves back to his jeans, but you push it out of the way, taking over. Surprise crosses his features and Robby has to bite back a laugh. He warned the other man that you were a wildcard, he guess he didn’t realise just how much until now.

“I’m supposed to show you what I can do, remember?” You tease, your lips trailing along his throat, mouth sucking on that naughty little spot he didn’t even know existed just underneath the hinge of his jaw. Your clever hands are already unfastening the button and drawing down the zipper. Jack looks completely swept away in the moment, a groan punching out of his chest as you grasp his dick. “It’s no fun if you do it yourself.”

You help him shove his trousers down his hips, they get stuck around his knees but he doesn’t seem to care because you’re kissing him again and his cock jutting out. Red, desperate, leaking. You break apart long enough for you to use your fingertip to scoop a bead of pre-cum from the tip before placing it between those heart shaped lips of yours. You make a pleased sound as you lick it off your finger, as if Jack Abbot is the best thing you’ve ever tasted.

“I know I’m not allowed a blow you right now.” You murmur as your fingers wrap around Jack’s cock, thumb running over the head as more pre-cum spurts from the slit. “But I am very much looking forward to getting your dick in my mouth during our next video.”

That there, that’s the money maker. Those are the words that are going to have their phonelines jammed with people desperate to pre-order the next movie when this video hits the fan club.

You start to stroke, keeping yourself positioned off to Jack’s side so that Robby can focus on the thrust of his hips, on the way you jerk him to the point that his chest is heaving, that flush of pink creeping up his neck staining his freckles.

“Gonna come, Honey.” Jack whispers, tilting his head so that his eyes meet yours. Your free hand caresses his cheek, tracing over the greying stubble that lines his jaw. It’s a soft gesture, from one lover to another, affectionate, warm. It adds another layer to your legacy, another thing for the audience to fall in love with. “Lie down for me so I can do it all over your tits.”

You shimmy down onto the couch as he strips off his pants, his knees straddle your waist, his prosthetic limb tucking in against the couch cushions, keeping the mechanics away from your skin. Your hair fans out across the velvet and Robby shifts the camera closer, lingering over Jack’s shoulder for a POV shot.

You lie there looking up at him, those eyes filled with sin as you play with those tits of yours, plucking at the nipples, keeping them hard. Jack’s ragged breathing fills his ears as he jerks his cock, rough, hard, the desperation of a man who’s teetering on the edge.

“This is the money shot, baby.” You say to the camera. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

Jack climaxes with a feral groan, one that tears from his throat as white hot jets of cum arc across your breasts, covering them like pearls. Robby keeps the camera focused on you, on that cum dripping down your nipples into the valley of your breasts.

It’ll make a great picture, one that they’ve have you sign like a love letter when they send out the fan club package for a personalised touch.

“That’s a wrap.” Robby declares as he ceases recording, withdrawing to his original position by the tripod. Jesse lowers the boom mic, retreating to his audio set up.

Jack shifts his weight off you, his hand taking yours, helping you to sit up as Robby reaches for the baby wipes and the fresh set of towels they keep nearby.

“You did so well.” He praises as he hands them off to you and Jack to clean yourselves up with. “You kept your focus on Jack, and only looked at the camera for the POV shot at the end. It couldn’t gone better.”

“Not hard to do when you’re working with a complete rockstar like this guy.” You nudge Jack with your shoulder as you wipe his cum your tits.

Most people, their overwhelmed in the aftermath of something like this, but you seem fine, taking it in your stride. It’s the difference, he guesses, when it comes to working with someone with life experience.

“Ten out of ten, would come on again.” Jack remarks drily with that trademark smirk of his. “I think we’ve got a star on our hands with this one.”

You grin up at him and for Robby, it feels like the sun is shining on him all over again.

“Yeah.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles down at you. “Yeah, I think we have.”

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SET AFTER:

The Neurologist - Robby doesn’t think much of Jack’s friend The Neurologist…

Cuffs - Robby makes a discovery when a pair of handcuffs malfunctions at a crucial time.

Bed Rotting - Robby starts to blow up his life after you return to Seattle.

The Voicemail - Robby puts the final nail in the coffin of your marriage when he leaves THAT voice mail.

Divorce Papers - Jack gives a couple of home truths to Robby after he finds out he signed your divorce papers.

A Fucking Nightmare - Robby’s worst nightmare comes true when his ex-wife shows up as a guest at Dana’s vow renewal ceremony.

Regrets - Robby can’t help but think about his regrets after seeing his ex-wife for the first time since he signed the divorce papers.

Unread - Robby turns to Jack when you don’t respond to his message

The Call - Robby takes the plunge and decides to call you, leading to a surprising revelation.

Shepherd - Robby’s world is turned upside down when he receives a call from Derek Shepherd.

Husband Number Two - Robby gets into it with the man vying for the role of Husband Number Two in your life.

You’re upset.

Robby can hear it in your voice as he pauses outside your hospital room, his phone in one hand, typing out an update message for Jack, and a wholewheat egg wrap in the other, great brainfood for a concussion.

He’d left you dressing this morning to go in search of breakfast and now you’re apparently reaming folks out. Over what he can’t tell, he can only hear the frustration in your heart, the anger. Both things that are absolutely terrible for you in your current condition.

He pushes open the door to find you standing across from Shepherd and Owen. Your hip is cocked, one hand resting upon it. Two fingers of the other are rubbing at the space between your brows as if trying to ward off a headache, something very common with your type of head injury.

“What’s going on?” He says as he steps inside the room, slipping his phone into his back pocket. It vibrates once, Jack asking for more details, no doubt.

Owen huffs, his arms crossed over this chest, the left side of his mouth twisting up in distaste at Robby’s presence. “I thought you would have disappeared by now.”

It’s a dig, a kidney blow that’s meant to disarm him because yeah, Robby did disappear from his marriage, he owns that. The point is he’s here now, and he’s the one standing in your corner, not these two fuckwits you’ve been working with for the past few years.

“I don’t do that anymore.” He states, handing you the breakfast wrap. You take it gratefully, biting into it with an aggression he’s only witnessed on those nature shows he puts on at night to fall asleep to.

Owen scoffs, rolling his eyes and it takes everything in Robby not to react, because this isn’t about him and the ‘feud’ him and Owen seem to have. It’s about you, the woman who is so pissed off she’s practically vibrating.

“I was just telling Viv she won’t be taking her road trip.” Shepherd palm scrubs over his jaw as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry Viv, I just don’t feel comfortable clearing you to drive or flying just yet.”

You look like you want to throw the wrap at him. But instead, you stay silent, chewing with the quiet intensity of someone who is clearly plotting a murder.

Robby gets it. You’re a Type A personality, highly organised, very time orientated. This move to Pittsburgh has a lot of deadlines, including your employment date, picking up the keys to your new apartment, being there when your shipped items turn up. And then there’s the road trip.

The two of you always talked about taking one but then the study had come up and the marriage had collapsed…

This time around it was meant to be a break, something that you were finally doing for yourself after being in the service of others for so long. And now that’s crumbling around you too.

“Look Viv.” Owen steps forward, his voice softer now as if approaching a skittish animal. You look at him with similar eyes, like you don’t know whether to scratch him the fuck up or run. “I know you have to be out of your place by the end of the day. I’ve got plenty of space at my condo, why don’t you stay a couple of days…”

Your shoulders sag, the mental exhaustion of this whole situation physically weighing you down. You tilt your head away, blinking quickly and Robby realises there’s a very real possibility that you’re about to cry.

And he fucking hates it.

“I’ll drive.” Robby says softly. His hand skates along your upper back, palm rubbing gently between your shoulder blades to sooth away the stiffness that grips your entire body like a taut guitar string ready to snap. “I need to head back to Pittsburgh anyway. You can still make the road trip, do all the things you want to, and…” He casts a glance at Shepherd who watches the exchange passively. “They’ll be a doctor on call to keep an eye on you every step of the way.”

“That’s acceptable to me.” Shepherd says, his lips pursing together into a grim line as he steps towards you. “I know how much you want to get out of here after what happened with the study. I’ll get your discharge papers sorted out and then you can be on your way.”

The weight of those words hangs in the air between the two of you, an undercurrent of tension that Robby’s been picking up on ever since he received that phone call.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you Dr Robinavitch.” Shepherd holds out his hand for you to shake.

You don’t take it, instead you tuck your own hands into the pockets of your own jacket, the ultimate snub to his gesture. “I don’t think I can say the same Dr Shepherd.”

It’s Shepherd’s turn to look away. “I really wish-”

“Wishes won’t help the people that were on that trial Derek.” Your voice is harsh, cold. A tone Robby’s never heard from you, not even at the lowest points of your marriage. “If you could get those discharge papers…

He nods before pulling away, heading towards the door. Light floods in as he opens it, stepping out into the corridor as Owen follows after. The redhead pauses in the doorway momentarily, his shoulders tightening before he glances at you over his shoulder. “I really can’t change your mind?”

“No.” You say resolutely. His shoulders slump as he closes the door behind him, leaving you and Robby caged in together.

“I know you must have questions-”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Robby holds up his hand to cut you off. He gets the feeling you’ve been forced to have a lot of conversations you don’t want to over the past few weeks. Right now, he can tell you’re tired, overwhelmed, that there are a million things running through your head, each one bumping against each other to take priority. “Not until you’re ready.”

You swallow hard, nodding your head.

“I just want to go home.” You tell him, and he knows you’re not talking about your Seattle apartment. He can see your desperation to leave this city, it’s in the way you wring your hands as you look up at him. “I fucked up my entire life for this job Michael…”

You use the back of your wrist to wipe away the salt from your cheeks and Robby can’t help but reach for you. His arms wrap around you, drawing you into the shelter of his body. You fit against him the way you always have, like this is the one place you belong in this world. You cling to him, your fists curling into his t-shirt as his lips brush over your hair.

“We both fucked up.” He whispers, closing his eyes and savouring the press of you against him. “What happened between us… it’s not all on you.”

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