she/her. 20s. bisexual. multifandom girlie. resident of chef luca nation. queen of falling in love with characters without watching the media they’re in.
requests: OPEN LIVE ON AIR REQUESTS ONLY
asks: OPEN
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LIVE ON AIR presents… an interview with Dr. Michael Robinavitch!
Host: Good morning, Live on Air Network! Me again! Have you missed me? Because I’ve missed you! This morning I am here with seasoned professional, Dr. Michael Robinavitch, the Chief of Emergency Medicine at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.
Robinavitch: Oh, please, there’s no need to dress me up like that. *he waves his hand* Robby is fine.
Host: Robby, then. How are you feeling about being front and centre of today’s schedule? And are there any hints you can give us about your blurb debuting later today?
Robinavitch: It’s definitely a lot of pressure, but nothing I can’t handle. I’m taking the day as it comes. It’s out of my hands. As for the blurb…
Host: Yes?
Robinavitch: Two words. *he leans closer* Supply closet.
Host: Oh my God. *she fans herself* Is it hot in here or is it just me? Whilst we’re on the subject, Dr. Robby, I have to ask the dreaded question…
Robinavitch: *laughs* Here we go…
Host: Our viewers are dying to know… is there a Mrs. Robinavitch?
Robinavitch: Uh… no, there is not. *laughs* Unfortunately, I am a very busy man and I’ve just… never had time for something more serious with my line of work.
Host: Well, that is a shame — but I’m sure by the end of today you’ll have a line of admirers trailing out the door. Especially after this interview.
Robinavitch: *he smiles* Wouldn’t that be a miracle?
Host: *laughs* Now, obviously we’re going to be seeing more of you today, but we’ll also be seeing your fellow attending, Dr. Jack Abbot, and resident, Dr. Frank Langdon. What is it like working with these guys?
Robinavitch: It’s… good. They are both incredibly skilled people, in their own right. I taught Dr. Langdon myself and I have had the enormous displeasure of knowing Dr. Abbot for a good few years now and I can confidently say that they are some of the best at what they do.
Host: You and Dr. Abbot are close, then? Exactly how many years have the two of you known each other?
Robinavitch: Oh, I don’t think my ego could handle seeing your reaction to how old we are once you do the math. *laughs*
Host: Alright, you keep your secrets, old-timer… *she winks*
Robinavitch: *he grins* I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.
Host: *laughs* You do that. Thank you again, Dr. Robby, for taking the time out from your busy schedule to talk with us.
Robinavitch: My pleasure. Thank you for stopping by.
Host: Coming up later today, we’ve got oneshots, headcanons, moodboards and more on their way to your screens — starring the elusive Dr. Jack Abbot, Dr. Frank Langdon and Dr. Robby, himself! Don’t go anywhere! 😉
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robby’s tummy pressed against you during missionary while he’s got you dizzyingly full of him… flush against your back while you bounce on him in reverse cowgirl… pressing into your ass while he drills himself into you from behind— 🔫
LIVE ON AIR presents… an interview with Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin!
Host: Good morning, Live on Air Network! Or should I say good morning, aviators? This morning, you join me in sunny San Diego at the Navy’s Fighter Weapons School, Top Gun, with the ever-charming Lieutenant Jake Seresin, or as he’s known around these parts, Hangman!
Seresin: *laughs* Wow, what an introduction!
Host: I try! Now, Hangman- Can I call you Hangman?
Seresin: You can call me whatever you’d like, ma’am. I’m not picky.
Host: Alright, Hangman it is. Hangman, we asked several of your fellow aviators if they’d like to interview this morning but we want to know… what was it that drew you to this interview?
Seresin: Well… what can I say? Morning drills are the bane of every aviator’s existence — don’t tell Mav I said that — *laughs* So when the opportunity came up to spend my morning chatting with a beautiful reporter, such as yourself, it seemed like the obvious choice.
Host: I’m sure… Morning drills aside though, you’ve spent the better part of the last decade and a half getting to where you are now. What is it that motivates you? What gets Hangman out of bed in the morning?
Seresin: Besides a beautiful reporter… *he pauses in thought* I think it’s the feeling that comes with knowing every morning I wake up alongside the best of the best and I’ve earned my place here… but so has everybody else. It’s that kind of hunger to always be better that gets me up.
Host: So it’s the need to prove yourself, would you say?
Seresin: Maybe. I like being the best. I like a challenge. And when someone tells me I can’t do something, well… that usually gives me all the motivation I need to go out and do it.
Host: I think I’m noticing a competitive streak in you, Hangman.
Seresin: It’s served me pretty well so far.
Host: I’m sure it has… And it’s pretty clear to me that you’ve got quite a reputation around here, even if I’ve only been walking around base with you for a little while. Confident, cocky, maybe even a little arrogant at times. Do you think that’s fair of people to say?
Seresin: I think people tend to call confidence arrogance when they’re not used to seeing it.
Host: So you don’t think you’re arrogant?
Seresin: I think I’m aware of what I’m capable of. There’s a difference.
Host: Interesting… let’s talk about your callsign, then. Every aviator has one but yours is not exactly the warmest nickname around. How did you earn a name like Hangman?
Seresin: *he grins* Well, ma’am, the thing is, I’m pretty good at getting out of situations that don’t look particularly survivable to the average man. And at some point that got lost in translation as me being happy to leave others for dead.
Host: And you’re proud of a name earned like that?
Seresin: *he shrugs* I’m proud of doing my job and doing it well.
Host: You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve managed to answer a question without overstating yourself. Colour me impressed.
Seresin: Give me a minute. I’m sure I’ll find a way.
Host: You wouldn’t be the infamous Hangman if you didn’t. One final question, and it’s a good one; are you looking for love right now?
Seresin: *he grins* You know what, the search is already over because I have just found her.
Host: *laughs* And on that note, I think we’re going to leave it there before you get me into trouble.
Seresin: Your words, not mine.
Host: Hangman, it has been wonderful spending time with you this morning and thank you for giving me significantly more trouble than what I was expecting.
Seresin: Any time, ma’am.
Host: You ought to be careful throwing around the word ‘ma’am’ like that, you might just find I hold you to your word.
Seresin: Oh, I’m counting on it. *he winks*
Host: *laughs* My God… I’ve been your host and you’re watching Hargreeves-Duncan’s Live On Air. Stay tuned because there’s more where this came from, after the break!
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Aaron Hotchner who’s not always the best at affection, so he makes it up to you in his own way
warnings: allusions to aaron worrying he’s emotionally neglecting you
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Thanks to the nature of his job, he’s away more often than not and, in the past, he’d have thought that simply missing you would be enough to get you through those lonely nights without him. But he’s older now, wiser, and he’s learnt to make a conscious effort to show you how just much he loves you — especially when the two of you are apart.
Every Sunday, there are flowers waiting for you outside your door when you get home from work, ordered online while Aaron’s in whatever city happens to be the BAU’s base of operations that week.
And when you mention offhandedly in one of your daily voice notes that you’ll have to work late to catch up on your reporting, you find a delivery driver waiting outside your office building with your favourite takeout thirty minutes later.
And, of course, when he eventually does come home, he’s brought you a little trinket from wherever he’s been — something that made him think of you — for you to add to your cluttered bookshelf.
And sometimes all he does is send you an extra text to let you know that he’s missing you.
It’s all the little things that remind you that, even when he’s thousands of miles away, he’s still thinking of you.
Because Aaron never wants you to feel the distance.
He might not be the guy who writes you sonnets, but he absolutely is the guy who notices your perfume is running low in the background of a FaceTime call and has a new bottle delivered the very next day, so you don’t even have to think about replacing it.
Because Aaron has learnt that loving you doesn’t have to be constant grand gestures or declarations of love, but you deserve to feel how much he cares for you.
Spencer Reid who realises that you really, really like it when he rambles
warnings: SMUT - MDNI, p in v, oral m!receiving, no mention of protection, reader loves her hot nerd boyfriend
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Spencer notices everything.
It’s simply the way his mind works. He’s spent the better part of the last decade training himself to pick up on the little things and it’s made him very good at what he does.
But when it comes to women, there are still plenty of things that he doesn’t pick up on.
Especially when it’s late in the evening and he’s over at your place, the two of you watching some medical drama with far too many inaccuracies for him to ignore.
He’s on what feels like his twentieth “That’s actually…” of the episode but you couldn’t tell anyone what he had been saying, even if they held a gun to your head.
There’s just something so effortlessly sexy in the way that he can correct the logistics of an on-screen surgery without even a stutter. Or how he’ll tut to himself whenever they recite a made up illness to up the stakes.
A big brain has always been your weakness. And your pupils are blown wide as you stare — not at the tv, but at him.
And Spencer doesn’t even notice. Not when you trail your fingertips over his thigh or even when you absentmindedly press a kiss to his shoulder.
He might glance over at you, but he gives you no more than a second’s notice, before he’s turning back to the screen as he huffs, “And the craziest thing is that they have researchers for this kind of thing but…”
It isn’t until you’ve managed to creep into his lap that Spencer looks at you fully, cupping your cheek, “You seem… are you okay? Am I talking too much?”
His eyes flick down to where you’re pressed against him, then back up to your face.
You shake your head, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, “Mm-mm. Keep talking.”
Something about the way you say it makes him swallow. Hard. So he does keep talking. And he doesn’t get more than a few sentences out before you’re kissing him, grinding down against his slacks.
His words are coming out stuttered now because this was not the evening he thought he’d be having when you suggested a cosy night in.
He tilts his head back against the couch, muttering a quiet, “Oh my God.” under his breath.
But the second he’s stopped rambling, you stop grinding and he’s whimpering and you just smile sweetly at him until something in his brain clicks.
The talking.
And suddenly he’s racking his brain for every other time you’ve reacted like this and kicking himself for not noticing sooner when you’d drooled over his cock the night he’d helped you finish up your dissertation or how fast you’d pulled him into a supply closet when you’d come back from sick leave to find out Spencer had finished up all your reporting for you.
And for once, boy genius, Spencer Reid feels like the stupidest man alive and now he just won’t shut up.
Not when you’re kneeled on the floor between his legs, eyes locked onto him as you wrap your lips around the head of his leaking cock. Nor when you’re on top of him, tits bouncing and sweat gathering along your skin as you ride him with more fervour than he’s ever seen. He’s reeling off every little fact he can think of to get you off on his brain.
One thing is clear, Spencer Reid is not going to be shutting up anytime soon.
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JACK ABBOT, who - as he gets closer to retirement - begins to take every Tuesday evening off of work to join his local cinema club. He goes to this little run down picture house, after he’s had a day full of sleep and has managed to clean himself up to a human level - pressed denim jeans and a fresh shave - and lingers in the lobby for a little while, attempting to mingle with other movie lovers before they enter the theatre for whatever classic has been chosen to be shown that week.
He spots you at every single showing. You always stand there, digging through the cardboard box of unwanted posters near the door, and you always leave with the most niche picks under your arm.
He asks you about them, one day, when you’ve been staring at an unfurled cover of the 2008 adaptation of ‘Choke’, and he falls in love with you on the spot.
JACK ABBOT, who marries his favourite film nerd, and proposes to her at that same cinema club that they met at, at a screening of ‘Muriel’s Wedding’. Sure, she’s a little tipsy from the wine they’d been sharing, and she’s merry from the constant sing-alongs to ABBA on the way over, but Jack doesn’t think she’s ever been more beautiful. Not from where he’s knelt on the floor, down on one knee like he’s been practising in-front of the bedroom mirror, his prosthetic clicked into place as he slips the popcorn-sticky ring onto her finger while Muriel and Rhonda sing ‘Waterloo’.
JACK ABBOT, who learns the wedding speech from the Princess Bride, and spends weeks memorising it from hand-written flashcards, having Robby or Dana test him daily at hand-off, and Shen and Ellis throw random words at him mid-shift. JACK ABBOT, who is so, unbelievably proud of himself for getting it all right while managing to keep the surprise, but is absolutely dumbfounded when you burst into tears at the altar as soon as the word “mawwiage” leaves his lips. Because your vows were about to say the exact same thing.
Two cinephile peas in a pod.
JACK ABBOT, who pictures his first dance to his second wife to be the famous ‘Dirty Dancing’ routine, because his first wife wouldn’t even let him attempt it when his amputation was fresh. But you shut him down straight away, sliding your speaker across the kitchen table like an Italian mobster, silent before you press play on ‘In Dreams’ when you return with your ‘Blue Velvet’ DVD in hand, and a shy smile.
He folds instantly, of course, and the two of you dance, one of Jack’s legs slipped between both of yours, your arms around his solid neck as he smirks into the side of your face, swaying you side to side while the dulcet tones of Roy Orbison ring through the marquee.
He spins you around in your Audrey Hepburn ‘Funny Face’ wedding dress, wearing matching rings engraved with ‘Your life will not go un-witnessed, because I will be your witness,’ and for once, Jack finds comfort in a world of make believe.
Because, like the end of every cheesy rom-com that he’s endured with you, enjoyed with you, he has the girl of his dreams.
His nerdy wife, who ends their beloved wedding night with a stack of new DVDs and a bottle of wine.
To Jack Abbot, ‘it was a million tiny little things, that when you added them all up, they meant that you were supposed to be together.’