dakotalover1

[dakotalover1]

Elias Voit and Reader’s First Run In

Emily swung open the interrogation room door, immediately met with Elias Voit’s smug gaze, the corners of his lips curled into a knowing smile. He lounged back in his chair, completely at ease, like this was just another day in the office for him.

“I was wondering when someone would finally come in here to interrogate me,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes, his voice dripping with arrogance.

Emily’s stance didn’t waver. She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes sharp. “Well, consider this your lucky day. We need you to tell us everything you know about the Gold Star case.” She didn’t wait for him to interrupt. “We know you’re involved, and we know you and Douglas Bailey were both aware of critical details before you killed him. We need to be as informed as he was.”

Voit chuckled darkly, rolling his shoulders as if he were settling in for a long chat. “You really think you can just waltz in here, make demands, and I’ll start spilling my secrets? How quaint." His eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned forward, voice a low drawl. “I’m not some obedient dog, Agent Prentiss. You won’t get a thing from me by playing nice.”

Emily felt her patience slip. She could see the game he was playing—and he was good at it. With a tight sigh, she straightened up, tossing a glance at the observation window before turning to leave.

In the roundtable room

"Voit's not budging," she said, her tone tight with tension as she rubbed her temples. "I tried the direct approach, but he's not giving us anything. We need to rethink our strategy."

Rossi leaned back, letting out a heavy sigh. "This son of a bitch really thinks he still has the upper hand, chained to a chair in our interrogation room?" His voice was a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Emily nodded, clearly frustrated but focused. "I know it's not ideal, but we need to find something about Voit that we can use to throw him off. Something unexpected."

JJ raised an eyebrow, her thoughts racing. "What if we dig into his past—his parents, maybe? Something to make him vulnerable, get him off his game?"

Rossi’s eyes narrowed as he thought it through. "Or we send someone in there he’s not expecting. We saw that creepy bunker of his, the one with all our faces and info. There was only one person he didn't have anything on."

All eyes shifted to Y/N, who sat quietly, processing the suggestion.

"You think sending me in would mess with his head enough that he might slip up?" Y/N asked, her voice steady, though her pulse quickened in her throat.

Emily met her gaze, her expression serious but calculated. "I do. There's a good chance we could catch him off guard. You think you can handle it?"

Y/N’s heartbeat quickened, but she kept her voice firm. "Of course. I'll get him talking."

Outside the Interrogation Room

Y/N stood frozen, her gaze fixed on Voit as he sat calmly in his chair. Unlike the usual suspects they’d brought in—those who fidgeted or visibly squirmed under the pressure—Voit appeared almost… serene. His posture was perfectly relaxed, as if he were simply waiting for the inevitable. It was almost as if he expected whatever was coming through that door, and it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

"Voit’s a master at getting into people's heads," Emily’s voice broke through Y/N’s thoughts, her tone both reassuring and firm. "We’ve profiled him, and we know he can break people mentally. But if it starts to get out of hand, all you have to do is end the session, and we’ll step in. You’re not doing this alone."

Y/N’s lips quirked into a small grin, the weight of the situation settling into her chest but not quite overwhelming her. "I know, Emily," she said with confidence. "I trust myself, and I know you guys trust me too. I can handle someone like Voit."

Emily’s eyes softened, offering her a quick, reassuring smile before she stepped aside to let her in. Y/N straightened her back and took a steadying breath. This wasn’t the first time she’d faced a dangerous mind.

As she opened the door, she was immediately met with Elias Voit’s signature smirk—a devil-may-care grin that sent a chill down her spine. He leaned forward on the table, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that almost felt predatory, as if something about her had finally sparked his interest.

"Well, well, well," he purred, his voice laced with mock sweetness. "What do we have here?" His tone was soft but heavy with meaning, like he knew exactly what kind of game they were about to play.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick and almost suffocating as Voit leaned casually against the interrogation table, his eyes flicking between Y/N and the two-way mirror—no doubt aware that the rest of her team was watching on the other side. His smirk never wavered, a dangerous, almost playful glint in his gaze, like a predator sizing up its prey.

From the other side of the mirror, the team watched in silence, their attention focused solely on the interaction unfolding in front of them. Emily’s fingers were clenched at her sides, while Rossi’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as Voit seemed to play with Y/N like a cat with a mouse.

"Careful, sweetheart," he drawled, his voice low and laced with amusement, "You don’t want to get too close. I bite."

Emily stiffened. “What the hell is he doing?” she muttered under her breath, clearly irritated by the predator-like tone in Voit’s voice.

Y/N crossed her arms and leaned back against the cold wall, letting the silence stretch between them, thickening with every second.

"Yeah, I’m sure one of your 62 victims could give you a glowing recommendation," she shot back, her tone as sweet as it was calculated. Her eyes never wavered from his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of unsettling her.

“We’ve got him rattled, don’t we?” JJ whispered, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she watched Y/N hold her ground

Voit let out a dark chuckle, his lips curving into something far too self-assured. He tilted his head slightly, feigning mock innocence, as if he were playing a game he knew he was winning. "Oh, come on now. You don’t seriously think I’m the infamous Sicarious, do you?" he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm and amusement, as if the idea was so far beneath him, it was laughable.

The team exchanged glances. “He’s really enjoying this,” Rossi observed, his tone thick with annoyance. “This guy’s like a snake coiled in the grass, waiting to strike.”

“I don’t mind leaving the courts to handle what we already know, but that’s not the point right now,” Y/N said coolly, her eyes locking onto Voit as she settled into the chair across from him. “My team and I have been keeping an eye on you ever since we found you. We need information on Gold Star.”

Voit’s smirk didn’t falter. He leaned back in his chair, unbothered. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “What do you mean, okay?”

“Yeah. What do you want to know?” Voit’s tone was laid-back as he casually glanced at the files in front of him, his eyes twinkling with amusement as if he were the one in control.

That smug bastard,” Emily muttered under her breath. “He’s playing games.”

Y/N ignored the taunt, pushing two photos in front of him. “This is a picture from a crime committed last week, and this one followed soon after,” she said, tapping the images with her finger. “The MOs are completely different, but we know they’re connected. And we know you understand why. Care to explain?”

Voit’s smirk widened as he grabbed the photos, studying them with interest. “Well, to understand why they’re connected, you’ve got to understand the killers first,” he replied, his voice smooth. “What do you think their motives have in common?”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly as she considered the question. “Revenge. These killers seem to have spent a lot of time with their victims. And they all look... the same. Almost like a pattern.”

“Nice,” JJ murmured. “She’s on the right track. Keep pushing.”

Voit’s lips curled upward, satisfied. “But why would multiple killers, with different victims, all have revenge on their minds?” His voice dropped, the question hanging in the air like a challenge.

Y/N thought for a moment before her eyes sharpened. “They’re all coming from the same place. Same neighborhood? Same town? They all share some twisted backstory that makes them believe they’re the ones being wronged?”

Voit leaned back, studying her with an unreadable expression. “Exactly.” He let the silence stretch, savoring her unraveling thoughts.

As she starts to collect her files, and gets up to leave the interrogation room Voit interrupts, “You’re leaving so soon?” he asked, a feigned pout tugging at his lips. “I give you all this brilliant insight, and I don’t even get a thank you?”

Y/N gives a confident smile to herself as she twists the door handle to let herself out, “I’m not here to compliment a killer, you’ll have to call your lawyer for that.”

From the other side of the mirror, Emily let out a small, satisfied laugh. “Nice,” she said, impressed. “You didn’t bite.”

Voit watches her with a calculating gaze, his smirk never faltering as she turns to leave. "Don’t be a stranger, sweetheart," he calls after her, his voice smooth, as the door clicks shut behind her.

Rossi gives a small nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, looks like we’ve got the right approach now.”

[dakotalover1]

and thank god for that 😭

they de-twinkified him💔💔💔

[dakotalover1]

would anyone be interested in an elias voit x bau reader imagine... sorry but he honestly is so hot

[dakotalover1]

imgonnagetyouback

Spencer Reid x Reader (Rossi's Daughter)

It’s almost effortless, the way Spencer and I toggle between being on and off. When we’re off, there’s never a question of him seeking out someone else—it’s just not who he is. For one, his casework keeps him impossibly occupied, and for another, we both know the truth: no one will ever hold him like I do. No one will ever unravel him the way I have.

People on the outside don’t get us, and I can’t blame them. To them, Spencer is the genius, the prodigy with his nose buried in books, his mind running laps around theirs. But they don’t see him the way I do. They don’t know the Spencer who can whisper something wickedly clever into my ear and leave me breathless. They don’t know the Spencer who catches me off guard with a smile that feels like a private joke. They’ll never know the man who’s sexy without trying, whose mystery keeps me coming back for more. He’s an enigma I can’t stop solving, even when I think I’ve got him figured out.

To the outside world, our relationship might look like a puzzle, fragmented and strange—one moment we’re deeply in sync, the next we’re distant like strangers. But that’s us. We’re chaos and calm, passion and hesitation, a bond that defies simple explanation.

And now, here we are again, side by side at the bar down the street from my dad’s house. My dad loves throwing these little celebrations for his team—a way to mark the end of grueling casework. This one was different, though. A two-week marathon of intensity, and now everyone’s unwinding. Normally, during one of these “off” phases, Spencer and I would fall into our usual rhythm: separate lives, no strings, letting the other disappear for a while. But this time, it’s different.

Two weeks ago, Spencer started to feel it—the shift between us, the deepening connection that neither of us could quite ignore anymore. And I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, too. I’ve been avoiding “serious” for so long, but with Spencer, it just feels...inevitable. Natural. That is, until he switches gears, pretending like we’re nothing more than casual, trying to convince himself we’re just a passing thing. But we both know the truth.

When it’s just the two of us, tangled in each other and the silence, it’s the only time he lets himself exhale. I feel it in the way his body relaxes, in the way he clings to the quiet, to me. I’m his sanctuary, his one moment of peace in a life full of chaos.

Spencer thinks I don’t notice the walls he’s built, but I do. I see through the guarded way he speaks, the way he tries to keep me at arm’s length. I know why he does it—his past, his losses. He’s afraid of getting too close, terrified of losing something he can’t bear to live without. And I understand. After all, his mother couldn’t always be there for him, and his father...well, we both know that story. Even with the team, with JJ and Morgan and the others, there’s still a part of him that longs for a different kind of connection. The kind he’s found in me.

But Spencer’s comfort in my presence—his reliance on me—has its limits. He’s gotten a little too used to the idea that I’ll always be here, waiting, and it’s started to test me. I know he feels safe with me, and I love that, but there’s a part of me that wonders how long I can keep waiting for him to realize what we have. How long before he stops pretending and lets me in completely.

Because no matter how much he tries to deny it, no one will ever know him like I do. And no one will ever love him the way I can.

I’m seated at a high-top table with the girls, laughing at whatever joke JJ just cracked, but my focus keeps slipping. I can feel Spencer’s eyes on me from across the room. He’s standing at the bar with Morgan, but it’s like his attention is tethered to me, no matter where I go. That smirk—half knowing, half teasing—has been plastered on his face since I walked in.

And why wouldn’t it be? I’m wearing a tiny skirt in his favorite shade (of course, that wasn’t an accident) and a sheer white top that offers just a peek of the delicate lace beneath. It’s the kind of outfit that drives Spencer crazy because it’s equal parts sweet and sinful. He says he doesn’t want me, but we both know better. I know better.

So, I am sitting at a little hightop table with the girls, and I can feel Spencer's eyes and smirk pointing my way from the bar he's standing at with Morgan. I'm wearing a tiny little skirt that's his favorite color (obviously on purpose), and a sheer white top that you can slightly see my lacy bralette through. You know when you just know a guy still wants you even after he says he doesn't? Yeah that's the feeling I'm getting, I know Spencer better than anyone, and that man wants me.

Normally, I’d be smug that we’re back to normal, him undressing me with his eyes while pretending we’re just friends. However, I haven't decided if I want to curse him out or take him back to my house. I think tonight, if Spencer wants me back, he's going to have to earn it.

“I think Spence is going to combust if you don’t go over there and give him some attention,” JJ teases, her voice low but full of amusement.

The table bursts into laughter, and I lean back, swirling my drink with a smirk. “Oh, he’s going to have to do a lot better than those puppy-dog eyes tonight. I’m not giving in so easily.”

“Really?” Emily chimes in, raising an eyebrow. “Because it looks like you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger already. You’re going to make him suffer, aren’t you?”

I flash a wicked smile. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just make him think I’m moving on. ‘I could be someone’s wife,’” I say dramatically, quoting the line from my head and earning more laughs from the girls. “He doesn’t get to string me along and expect me to be waiting for him whenever he’s done overthinking everything.”

Penelope, ever the romantic, sighs dramatically. “But the tension between you two? It’s chef’s kiss. And that man looks like he’d follow you anywhere if you so much as crooked your finger.”

I shrug, feigning indifference, but the truth is, I’m soaking it all in. Emily nudges me, her voice taking on a playful edge. “Well, if you’re serious about giving him a hard time, you better brace yourself, because lover boy is on his way over.”

Spencer walked up to the table and waved to the ladies, and then leaned in to whisper in your ear, "You look good tonight". You seductively smirked and grabbed his jaw line with your hand pulling his ear to your mouth. As he smirks, you whisper back, "I know". His expression changes to one of confusion, as you would usually compliment him back, but instead you drop your hand and get up. "Pen, do you want to go to the ladies room with me?", her head perks up as she pretends to not have been watching that entire interaction and replies, "Oh! Yes of course, no fabulous female should ever venture too far alone!".

I brush past Spencer, my shoulder grazing his arm, but I don’t spare him a glance. I can feel his eyes following me as I walk away, his confusion and frustration practically burning holes into my back.

Let him stew. If Spencer wants me, he’ll have to work for it.

When Penelope and I return to the table, I don’t look in Spencer’s direction, even though I know he’s still watching me. Instead, I slide into my chair with a bright smile, joining the girls in laughter like nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Across the room, my dad, Rossi, catches my eye. He’s holding court at the bar, recounting one of his famous stories to a group of agents, his glass of scotch in hand. With a quick glance at the table, I lean over to JJ. “Be right back,” I say, standing up and making my way to him.

Rossi spots me approaching and pauses mid-story, a smile spreading across his face. “Ah, there’s my favorite critic,” he says, wrapping an arm around me as I step into his side.

“Favorite? Am I your only critic, Dad?” I tease, stealing the olive from his drink and popping it into my mouth.

“Probably,” he replies with a chuckle. “But you keep me honest.”

The agents around him disperse, leaving us a moment of quiet. He glances back at the table where the team is gathered and then back at me, his expression softening. “You seem...distracted tonight. Something on your mind?”

I shrug, playing it off. “No, not really. Just the usual chaos.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives me a knowing look, the kind only a father can master. “Let me guess. It has something to do with our resident genius over there?”

I sigh, leaning against the bar. “Does it have to be that obvious?”

“To me? Yes.” He takes a sip of his drink, his tone turning serious. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but...whatever’s going on between you two, make sure it’s something you’re happy with. Don’t settle for less than you deserve.”

His words hit a little too close to home, and I nod, unable to meet his gaze. “I know, Dad. I’m not settling.”

He studies me for a moment, then smiles softly. “Good. You’re my daughter. You’ve got Rossi standards to uphold, after all.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Damn right.” He winks before turning back to his drink. “Go on, sweetheart. Don’t let me keep you from the party.”

With a quick kiss on his cheek, I leave him at the bar and head back to the table, but my focus isn’t on the girls anymore. It’s on Spencer, who’s still standing with Morgan, but his attention is locked on me.

I make my way back to the table, but my seat feels too far from the real reason I came back. I can feel Spencer’s eyes tracking my every move, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking his way. I sit down with the girls, pretending to be fully engrossed in Penelope’s animated story about her latest tech snafu.

But then I hear his voice, low and soft, behind me.

“Can we talk?”

The girls exchange subtle glances, but no one says a word. I don’t look at him right away. Instead, I take a deliberate sip of my drink and lean back in my chair, looking up at him with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“Talk? Now that’s new for us,” I say, the words laced with a teasing edge.

Spencer doesn’t smile. His gaze is steady, and there’s something vulnerable behind his usual composure. “Please,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now.

JJ gives me a little nudge under the table, and Penelope wiggles her eyebrows dramatically. I sigh, pushing back my chair and standing up. “Fine,” I say, brushing past him as I head toward the quieter side of the bar.

He follows, and the sound of his footsteps feels louder than the music in the background. I stop near a corner booth and turn to face him, crossing my arms.

“What do you want, Spencer?”

He hesitates, shifting from one foot to the other like he’s trying to decide where to start. “I... I don’t know,” he admits finally. “I just—”

“You don’t know?” I interrupt, my tone sharper than I intended. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you know exactly what you’re doing. You push me away, pull me back, and then act like I’m the one who can’t figure it out.”

His jaw tightens, and I see the flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not like that,” he says, his voice a little firmer. “It’s—complicated.”

“Oh, complicated,” I say with a sarcastic laugh, stepping closer to him. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Spence. Because I’m tired of complicated.”

He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine, and then he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I’ve been... difficult. And I don’t mean to be. It’s just—”

“Spit it out,” I challenge, my voice softer now but still edged with impatience.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he steps closer, closing the space between us. “I’m scared,” he says, so quietly I almost don’t hear it.

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I tilt my head, meeting his gaze. “Scared of what?”

“Of this,” he says, gesturing between us. “Of how easy it is to be with you. Of how much I... need you.” His voice cracks slightly, and he looks away, as though the admission costs him more than he expected. “And I’m scared of losing it. Losing you.”

For a moment, I don’t say anything. I just look at him, the way his shoulders slump like he’s carrying more than his share of the weight. And as much as I want to stay mad, my resolve starts to crack.

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” I say finally, my voice softer now.

He looks at me again, and the vulnerability in his eyes is almost too much to bear. “I know,” he says. “And I’m sorry. I’m not good at this, at... us. But I want to be.”

There it is. The honesty I’ve been waiting for.

I take a step closer, reaching out to gently tug at his tie. “You’re not getting off that easy, Dr. Reid,” I say with a small smirk. “If you want me, you’re going to have to prove it.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but there’s still that seriousness in his eyes. “I will,” he says, his voice steady. “If you’ll let me.”

I let go of his tie, my fingers brushing against chest, "Show me"

Spencer doesn’t move, and neither do I. The space between us feels charged, electric, like the air before a storm. My fingers linger just above his tie, not touching him but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

“Show me,” I say again, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes drop to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting mine again. “You don’t make it easy, you know that?”

“Why should I?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve made me work for every ounce of your attention, Spence. Maybe it’s time you see how it feels.”

His jaw tightens, but his lips curve into the smallest of smirks. “Fair enough,” he murmurs. Then, his voice drops, low and velvety. “But don’t forget, I’m a quick learner.”

The heat between us builds, and I can feel my pulse quickening. His confidence—subtle, restrained—is maddening, and yet I can’t look away.

“You talk a big game,” I say, tilting my head slightly, “but I’m not convinced yet.”

“Not convinced?” He steps closer, and I’m acutely aware of how close we are now. His hand brushes against mine, deliberate but fleeting, and the touch sends a jolt up my spine. “Tell me, what would it take to convince you?”

The corner of my mouth curves upward, a dangerous smile playing on my lips. "I'm sure you'll figure something out."

I take my hands off of him, a slow, deliberate motion, as I turn to walk away, the air thick with the tension between us. But just as I make my move, his grip tightens on my arm, pulling me back with a force that leaves me breathless. Before I can fully process what’s happening, his body presses against mine, his lips capturing mine in a kiss so intense it steals the air from my lungs. The heat between us ignites instantly, the world around us fading as his kiss deepens, claiming me in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

He's definitely got me back.

[dakotalover1]

Guilty as Sin?

Penelope, JJ, and Emily all stared back at you in shock.

The four of you were having a girls night at your apartment. Girls night always entailed a couple of things; wine, giggling, and secret telling. This night was big on all three. The girls were begging and begging for you to show them a snippet of a song you were planning on putting on the next album. And since you weren’t sure how this one would land with the public, you decided to test it on them first, little did you know their profiling skills helped them immediately detect who the muse of your song was…

You had always had a major crush on Spencer, I mean look at him, he was handsome, smart, tall, you loved the slight attitude that he had, and how easy it made banter with him. When your Dad had the whole team over for pasta/wine nights, it was hard to not focus in on him and imagine all of the possibilities if he ever let you get close enough. And if you thought hard enough about it all, you could swear he felt the same feelings. 

One night at one of your Dad’s parties you just couldn’t stop staring. HIs hand was wrapped around his cold glass of water, condensation dripping all around it and trickling down his fingers. The way he held the glass, the way he gripped the napkin to remove his fingers of any liquid. You just couldn’t take your eyes off of his hands. You went home that night and had dreams of them, using them to help you exhaust yourself to sleep.

No wonder Spencer held the eye of so many of your famous songs.

“Y/N, you have to release that ASAP, I’m telling you this is just the kick in the butt Spence needs!!” JJ exclaimed. Emily hummed in agreement, “I’m with JJ here, he will be absolutely shocked, but it’ll tell him exactly what he needs to do, there’s no question about who this song is inspired by.” 

Penelope was still sitting in shock over the lyrics you put into the song. It was so vulgar get so secretive and mysterious. Obviously the girls had their inkling that you fancied Spencer, always sitting next to him at dinners and getting a little too close to him after a few glasses of wine, but this song took it all to the next level. She was obsessed with the idea of you two and needed it now. “Please please please Y/N, I am begging you to release it this Friday!!!” Penelope squealed, you felt so overwhelmed with all of the advice and wondered if it truly would send your relationship with Spencer into a new direction. You thought about him constantly, and this might just be the act of boldness that brings you two together. “I’ll think about it for you guys, but it’s a lot to ask!! I feel like such a freak for even thinking these things, let alone telling the whole world and Spence!” You explained. 

The girls let up on you for the rest of the night about Spencer, but the thoughts still lingered in your head, is this what Spencer needs to finally make a move?