If you don't terrify people, what's the point.

Companion piece to:

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

Pornstar!Robby Headcannons

Robby’s in the photo lab when Jack seeks him out. The studio have one on site so they can process their own images without having to pay out of the nose for the development of pornographic materials, it’s also a way of protecting their own exclusivity as things tend to go missing when they use outsiders for shit like this.

“She’s a natural.” Jack says hovering over his shoulder in a navy-blue robe. The scent of baby oil clings to his skin, rose, jasmine and a gentle touch of vanilla, His chest still glistens with it, those fine grey hairs glimmering in the dim light. “She’s gonna go far with a personality like that.”

Jack’s right.

The photographs… they’re almost as good as the real thing.

They’re naughty, salacious, the type of thing the fan club will go absolutely wild for if you decide to sign with them.

“Yeah.” Robby responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his roller chair. “She’s something special alright.”

 “You think she’ll do ok with the screen test?” Jack questions, snatching up the second chair that occupied the lab and guiding it alongside Robby’s. He drops down into it, groaning as he removes the prosthetic leg, setting it alongside the computer tower. It’s been a long day for him, directing in the afternoon, performing this evening. Dana’s been warning him about pushing himself too hard but Jack, he likes to keep busy.

“I think when you have that much raw chemistry with the camera it doesn’t matter if you have a partner or not.” Robby says, his gaze still focused on the photographs. It’s that cute one he’s fixated on, the one with you glancing over your shoulder like he’s the only man in the world as you slide those jeans down your thighs revealing that peach of an ass. That sort of intimacy, that connection to the audience… it’s rare, something you can’t practice or teach. “We can start her off small, film a hand job first, get her used to preforming in front of the camera.”

The amount of people on set, the way they move around a scene, it can be quite intimidating when you’re new to the industry. It’s hard to stay focused on your partner when you have a boom mic hovering over your head and a camera person up close and personal with your pussy.

“Might be able to run a ‘firsts’ series.” Jack says, his chin coming to rest on his palm as he takes over the mouse and scrolls through the images. “She’s too old for the whole virginity thing, but ‘Honey’s first porn film’ would play with our audiences. Start with someone teaching her to give a handjob on the casting couch to getting fucked over the back of it. If she’s into girl on girl, that’s another first, same with anal and BDSM. We can take them through the journey of corrupting her, it’ll probably generate some fresh revenue in those areas as a large portion of fans will be following her instead of being genre specific.”

It’s a good plan, and something they’ve not done before in his studio which means it’ll be fresh content. Usually the actresses they take on skew more in their early twenties so their first introduction to the scene is ‘The Baby Sitter’ or ‘Daddy’s Best Friend.’ They have an opportunity with you as an older actress, to try something new with someone who’s a lot more emotionally mature.

“We could probably send pictures of the handjob out to the fanclub as a taster, a freebie to get interest going. Not her hand actually wrapped around it” – because their fans don’t want pictures of other man’s dicks unless they’re signed up to the M/M stuff – “but the aftermath, those tits covered in cum… they’ll be jamming the phone lines to get a copy of the video.”

“We’re thinking of pairing her with you or Jesse for the screen test-” Jack shakes his head, cutting Robby off.

“I think it should be you.” He states, tilting his face towards the photographer. “In all of these pictures… it’s clear she’s not looking at the camera, she’s looking at you. That kind of connection, it would really sell this series, elevate it.”

There’s silence for a second, the cogs in Robby’s brain turning and then…

“Dana told you about the woody, didn’t she?” Robby sighs, tilting his head back towards the ceiling as he lets out groan. “It was one time…”

“It was the first time.” Jack points out with a knowing look. “The first time you’ve got hard in front of anyone else since Driscoll and that’s a big deal.”

What happened with Driscoll and his old studio… it fucked him up in more ways than he’d like to admit. Seeing that man behind the scenes at his shoots, after everything he’d done to him… he hadn’t been able to perform… for anyone… not even in private. His fall from grace had been humiliating, soul destroying and it had broken something fundamentally inside of him.

“It was probably a fluke.” He mutters, his cheek coming to rest on his knuckles as he sets his elbow on the desk, watching Jack continue to scroll through the pictures. Your face skims by, that smile that seemed to unlock something in his chest when he was photographing you. It felt like you were the sun, and he was just a flower bending basking in your glow. “You should do the screen test, we can save Jesse for some of the kinkier stuff later, teaching her how to play with piercings and that shit.”

The thought of you learning what to do with a Prince Albert, giving all your attention to the tip of a dick, licking over that barbell, it has him stirring his pants again.

“Hm.” Jack says knowingly, his gaze straying to the bulge in Robby’s trousers, the one he’s trying so badly to hide. “Yeah… you and her, it must be a fluke.”

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Companion piece to:

Dreamer (NSFW) - John dreams of you when he’s with someone else.

Little John - You try to keep John’s mind off the task at hand.

The First One Is Always The Hardest - You comfort John after the death of a patient.

Forget-Me-Nots - John wakes up hung over in a strange bed and with an unexpected memento of the night before.

Speak Your Truth - John speaks his truth in the aftermath of a tragedy.

Trauma - John makes a realisation after his confession.

Fever - John gets more than he bargained for when he attends a friend’s stag party in a Chicago Speakeasy.

Minx (NSFW) - John had no idea he had such a deviant little minx on his hands.

Always - You and John discuss the reasons behind your dancing.

Diamonds - John’s friend and rival makes you an offer you can’t refuse.

The Stethoscope - John’s world is turned upside down when he finds your stethoscope in his locker.

Elderberry Wine - You come home to find John waiting for you.

Sex, Lies and Cocaine Dreams - John takes his revenge on the man that shattered your dreams.

By The Grace of God - An unexpected ally goes to bat for you during your beard hearing.

Choices - You and John discuss your options moving forward.

The Benefits of Being Selfish (NSFW) - John teaches you the benefits of being selfish.

The Sexual Revolution (NSFW) - You decide to give John a private show before the event.

A Love Story - Your performance sparks an unexpected conversation with Gamma.

The Problem With Winning The War - The problem with winning the war is that you don’t expect the second attack.

Mack The Knife - You come face to face with a nightmare in John’s apartment.

The Merry Go Round - Reality starts to crash down on you in the wake of your recent trauma.

Rounds - John’s his first thoughts are of you upon waking up from surgery.

Love & Duty - John’s recovery at Gamma’s leads to friction in your relationship due to a laundry disagreement.

The Wishing Fountain - John reflects on his life before you.

Physical (NSFW) - John gets an erection for the first time since the attack.

Reconnecting - You and John reconnect for the first time after the stabbing.

Scar Tissue - John doesn’t realise you can tell when he’s mishaving.

Life Support - John realises he’s missed a couple of things during his recovery…

The Mulder To My Scully - The circumstances surrounding John’s patient lead him to think about the future.

The North Star (NSFW) -  There’s a whole lot of history connected to your engagement ring.

Ms Carter - After a small hiccup you and John finally tie the knot.

The Envelope - John’s father turns up at the apartment to discuss a legal issue.

One Year (NSFW) - On the one year anniversary of the stabbing John knows exactly what you need.

The Portrait - You come home to discover a new addition to your decor.

When Harry Met Sally - There’s a rumour going around about the identity of the Deb’s baby daddy.

Diminished Capacity - You discover the real motivations behind the annulment.

100 Lifetimes Of Us - John thinks the two of you were always meant to be.

The Invitation (NSFW) - John finally gets the invitation he’s been waiting his whole life for…

Something is wrong.

John can sense it under the surface as he watches you move around the E.D like a dancer, dodging obstacles, reading from a clipboard as you scribble notes. It’s a skill the way you work, purposeful, focused but it’s also a method of hiding, of burying your head in the sand when something unbalances you.

It’s a subtle shift but he can see it in the rigidness of your shoulders, the slight furrow between your eyebrows as you chew your lower lip.

He runs through all the important dates in his head.

Birthday, wedding anniversary, the night you first had sex.

He’s not forgotten anything important so it must be exterior, something someone else has done. He pushes up from his stool, his back protesting as he surges to his feet. It’s one of his bad days, he always has them in the winter. He’s taken a couple of ibuprofen to chase away the pain but still it’s there, a dull ache at the base of his spine reminding him of one of the worst events of his life.

He flicks through his rolodex of dates again.

Maybe that’s it, maybe…

No, he realises, that day has come and gone. He must have been so caught up helping with his grandfather’s affairs that it had completely passed him by. He thinks it was the same for you, you’ve been helping him sort through John Carter I’s things as he figures his way through the complications that come with having power of attorney.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He murmurs as he captures your elbow and draws you into the store room that Malucci was sneaking out of earlier. He’s got a girl, John thinks, someone at the hospital he’s keeping quiet about, which is rare for Malucci.

He turns the light on, and the bulb swings above the two of you in the cramped space as you hug the clipboard to your chest, leaning back against the shelves.

“Did I do something, did I not do something?” He asks, his forearm resting on the shelf above you, caging you in and you raise your eyes to the sky as if you’re trying to fend off tears.

“Your mom came by after you left for your shift this morning.” You tell him, swallowing hard against the ache in your throat. “She had some things she wanted to get off her chest.”

“What kind of things?” His voice is soft, gentle but underneath it there’s an element of steel, a harshness that he feels in the depth of his soul at the mention of that woman.

“John.” You plead but he shakes his head, because that… that doesn’t fly with him, and you know it.

The fact you don’t want to tell him means she said something awful, something so heinous that you’d rather stew in it then let it poison him too. He can make a few guesses as to what that might be.

“Crys.” He says, capturing your face between his hands. His thumbs chase over the apples of your cheeks, tender and reassuring as he looks into your eyes. “If she hurts you, she hurts me too. I want to know what’s making you so upset. Will you tell me?”

You sigh and he knows he’s won. You don’t keep secrets from one another, your relationship is forged in honesty, no matter how hard the truth might be to hear.  

“She said it was my fault that you were stabbed…that I’d played you and him off against each other and that’s why he…” Your voice breaks, a choked sob you try to hide behind the back of your hand. “I know it’s not true but it just…”

It hurts, he knows it does. It’s like a knife stabbing into your kidney, twisting until there’s nothing left but damaged meat.

“Crys, he was entitled piece of shit, he tried to hurt you, he tried to…” John can’t bring himself to say the words, he can just taste the bitterness on his tongue as he remembers lying there in the rain, bleeding out onto the concrete. “What was she hoping to gain by saying those things to you, why would she…”

You give him a look, and he already knows the answer to that question, in fact he can take a bet it’s sitting on the kitchen table in a brown envelope, handcrafted by this mother’s lawyer. His mother, she has this way of finding a weak point, of exploiting it do that you’ll do her bidding.

“You aren’t divorcing me.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact because he knows despite those horrific things she said to you, you would never do that to him. You would never leave him to navigate this world alone, never let him feel that he was unwanted or unloved.

That’s the promise you made when you married him, the one you’ll keep for all eternity.

“Never.” You whisper, your lips brushing over the base of his palm, reassuring him this time. “But we need to get your mom and dad under control. Between the annulment last year and this… I’m not sure how much more of their bullshit I can take.”

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