lace!

"Georgia college." He sighed and passed a file across the table, "Four students from the same philosophy class have been murdered. All of them found dead in their dorm, poisoned."

"Jesus, that's brutal." You sigh, "Can the local police not interview everyone in the class?"

"They have, no one has flagged any concern. So they believe the unsub can either blend in or is another student on campus." He explained, "So they asked us if we had an agent we could send in. Morgan calls you baby bird for a reason." He smiled, a rare Hotch smile.

"So, we're sending you in as a college student. And Reid as a professor."

You choked back a cough. "Reid?"

It wasn't like you didn't like Reid, but he did not like you. He had a reputation, smart, genius that doesn't like newcomers in his unit. He never let you get away with a slip of the tongue, constantly correcting your every word. It was infuriating.

"He's an experienced profiler and he has lecturing experience." Hotch said, "Plus he will have a view of the whole room."

"I don't need hand holding Hotch." You pursed your lips, flipping the file closed and pressing it onto your legs.

"I know you don't. It's for everyone's safety." He sighed and huffed with a tone that told you there was no point in arguing back.

Sinking into the chair, you cross one leg over the other. "Do I need to do the assignments?" You asked.

"We aren’t sure yet. Come on, Garcia is about to debrief the team." He held the door open for you and you ducked under his arm.

The round table chatter stopped as soon as you stepped into the room. All of them trying to look busy as they did whenever they were gossiping.

"Do I really look like I could still be in college?" You sigh and throw yourself into your chair in between Morgan and JJ.

"Yes." "Yes." "A little." "We call you baby bird for a reason."

"I hate you guys." You grump, and shove your elbow into Morgan's ribs. "I do not look twenty two. I'm almost thirty."

"Actually," You roll your eyes as you hear Reid's voice cut across the chuckling. "You're actually three years, seven months and eleven days away from thirty. So not almost. Also due to your slightly larger eyes and your affinity to wear pink makes people believe you are younger than you actually are." He rattled off, fiddling with his fingers.

You opened your mouth to spit something back when Penelope came into the room in a flurry. She had bags of shopping bundled into her grip, dumping them down the floor and swooping in with the remote in hand.

"Morning, my superhuman crime fighters. I'll get right into it! At Georgia college four students have recently been killed in their dorm rooms." She clicked on the button and four pictures popped up. "James Gripe, Lucy Brown, Issac Nike and Cara Smith. At first, they thought James Gripe had died from caffeine overconsumption and stress from finals. But then, Lucy, Issac and Cara were found in the concurrent weeks." She sighed sadly, looking at their faces in sympathy.

"Crossing both race and gender lines is rare." Rossi stated, scribbling down the names in his journal.

"The police already looked into the other students in the class right?" Emily asked and Hotch nodded.

"No one caused them any concern." He confirmed, "And as far as the students know they all have died of an overdose and stress related causes. The local ME is currently checking the bodies for signs of poison."

"The media is going to have a field day if this gets out." JJ sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Alright. Wheels up in 30, the sooner we get started the better. We'll discuss the undercover operation on the jet." Hotch said, striding out of the round table and back into his office.

Everyone else filed out, Derek pulling Reid to the side and mumbling something about "Getting better at talking to women." and Pen yanked you to the side before you could step out.

"I got you some things!" She rummaged around in the bag and shoved some clothes into your arms.

You held up a dress against your body. "Why the hell did you buy me a club dress?"

"You're going to college! And you're like my little sister and I couldn't send you off without a hot dress" She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, and a shirt and a mini skirt." She held them up.

"Thanks Pen." You smile and pull her into a tight hug. "I'll send you a picture if i end up wearing it." She gripped back onto you tighter.

"Come back to me safe, Baby Bird." She whispered into your hair.

"I will." You nod and peck her on the cheek, shoving the clothes into your go bag and getting ready to hit the tarmac.

"Wait!" Pen shouts across the bullpen and runs toward you as fast as she could with her too high heels. "I forgot to give you these."

----

Hauling your go bag into the overhead cabin, you sit down opposite Hotch. He slides your new ID across the table and you put it straight into your wallet.

"Everyone in that class is a potential victim." Derek sighed, flipping over the papers in his file.

"What that's like forty more potential victims?" You scoff, shaking your head.

"Forty six. Well, forty seven including you." Reid cut in, not even looking up from the book his face was buried in.

"Close enough." You grit out, teeth clenched.

"Not exact." He spat back.

Rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shoving a middle finger his way and huffing towards Derek. He smiled towards you cheekily, "Did you get Penelope's gifts?"

"Yeah. A tiny shirt, a mini skirt and a barely there dress." Derek let out a low whistle. "Oh, and about five million condoms." You pull the box from your pocket where you'd shoved them in with your cheeks turning red, hoping that no one in the bullpen saw.

"You could go through half of Georgia with those."

Ripping off a strip and threw it, hitting him square in the chest. "And you can go through half the police department with those." You joke and nudge him with the tip of your shoe.

"That was one time man!" He exclaimed.

"Actually, there were the two in Colorado." Emily piped in.

"One in California, and another in Florida." JJ continued.

"Don't forget police chief Jones in Texas." You teased, counting on your fingers.

"And the nurse in Oregon." Rossi finished.

"And that was all in the last six months." Hotch put the nail in the coffin, never usually joining in on the team banter. But he was smirking over his file at Derek's mock glare.

"C'mon we've all gone home with someone once. Well apart from babybird and pretty boy over there." He defended, throwing his hands up.

You scoff, "Hey, I don't want to become a case. Look at half of our cases, they all go home with their killers." You shake your head and climb out of the seat and into the plane aisle.

"At least I'm not thirty year old virgin over there." You snort, pulling open the small blue curtain to the kitchenette with a loud screech.

"Thirty two." He corrects, having now moved on to another book. Flipping a page in between words, the whole page completed.

"I like how that's the part you correct." You purse your lips, snorting and closing the curtain behind you, the kettle beginning to bubble. You knew he was thirty two, you were there at the party Pen made him have at Rossi's. But sometimes, you liked to push. To see how far you could take it before he couldn't resist and correct you. Usually, it just took you rounding up or down to make his patience to tip over.

You sigh quietly as you sit down with a scalding cup of coffee, the bitter taste burning your tongue as you sip it down.

"Looking forward to doing assignments again?" Emily asks, clasping her hands together on the wooden table.

"Definitely not, I'm not that well versed in philosophy so I better get reading." You smile, trying to lighten her worry.

"I suspect Professor Reid will mark you highly." She laughed, her eyes darting over your shoulder to him.

You follow her gaze and quickly glance over, hoping he wouldn't notice. But he was already looking at you. Probably from hearing Emily mention his name. It takes you a second to pull away from his intense stare. Emily cleared her throat, yanking you back to reality.

"I think I'll be his least favourite student." You roll your eyes, still feeling his eyes glaring at the back of your head.

----

You never thought you’d be back at college. But now, you were walking through the hallways of Georgia college with a backpack filled to the brim on your back. Thick textbooks and laptop weighing you down, or was it the nerves of trying to blend in?

It was far too early in the morning for most of the students around you, all dragging their feet and murmured complaints due to the previous late night.

Slowing, in front of the lecture hall. Coming to a stop in front of a group of girls standing and chatting amongst themselves.

“Excuse me,” You start. “Is this Professor Wright’s philosophy?”

They quiet, and turn to you. “Yeah! but he’s on leave so another professor is standing in. Are you new?” The dark haired girl asked, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, I just transferred from Arizona. Something to do with the credit amounts for graduation.” You shrugged. “I’m - Ivy." The name stumbles out unnaturally, like it doesn't belong to you. Because it doesn't. The introduction feels foreign in your mouth and heat pooled in your cheeks.

“Marie. And this is Chloe and Sarah.” She points to the girls staring behind her, they both give a wave.

The door to the lecture hall swings open. And everyone starts to file in. The plan was to sit at the back, keeping your head down and being able to view the whole room.

“Come sit with us!” Marie smiled, waving you over to the front row.

Descending down the stairs of the lecture hall, long hair bouncing, you slide into the seat on the end of the aisle. Pulling out your laptop and loading it up.

“I wonder what the new professor will be like,” She whispered into your ear. “Professor Wright was great, but he was basically a dinosaur.” She giggled.

“Hopefully good. I really need this credit.” You sigh, opening your mouth to speak again when the door swings open.

“Sorry, I’m late. I couldn’t find the hall.” Reid came spluttering into the hall and throwing his shoulder bag on the desk and uncapping the whiteboard marker and scribbling his name now. “I’m Professor Gardener, and I’ll be here while Professor Wright is on sick leave. I assure you he is feeling OK and has started his recovery.”

But you knew Professor Wright wasn’t sick, he was sat in his cushy lakeside home. Getting paid time off to lounge around and read through his library.

It had allowed Professor Gardener or as you knew, Doctor Reid pacing around in his element. He had slid into the professor role like a second skin. Hotch had mentioned he had guest lectured before, but the confidence was surprising.

“I’ve been told you were about to start Kantian ethics. So into Kantian ethics 101!” His hands clap and his voice fades into the background as another voice whispered in your ear, pulling you away from the lecture.

“He’s so hot.” Marie said, your head darting toward her.

“What?” You whisper back, slightly alarmed, “Don’t you think he’s like a bit, I don’t know, nerdy?”

“But like a hot nerd.”

Reid’s rambling pulled your attention back to the front of the room. He wasn’t hot, he was all knitted cardigans and wool ties. Stupid facts about Doctor who and how the physics was dodgy. He talked with his hands, waving them around with every unnecessary word. Long fingers that could solve a rubix cube in seconds. His facial hair had started growing in, a shadow coating the bottom half of his face. And standing up there as he lectured, the way the words slipped from him with ease. Maybe, he was hot.

But he was Reid. And Reid was your annoying co worker. The only person on the team who still didn't believe in you as an agent. And there he was standing, as Professor Gardener. And he looked hot.

----

And apparently, half of campus also thought so. Walking into the lecture hall that had been half empty was almost full. The sight makes you trip over your feet and almost tumble down the stairs.

A hand grabbed your bicep and pulled you back and into a chest. You don't need to turn around to know who it was. You knew his cologne, the scent of books and coffee also a hint of mint. You steady yourself and spin around to look at him, he was closer than you thought he would be.

"Professor Gardener. Uh, thank you." You nod and start to head down the stairs where Marie had saved you a seat with her handbag.

"You're also new, Ivy right?" He said, falling in step next to you.

His casual small talk takes you back, you can never recall a time Reid had spoken to you casually. "Yeah, I had to transfer. Graduation credits, you know how it is." You shrugged, stopping at the row. "And thank you again."

Sitting down next to Marie, she immediately grips onto you. "What was that?" She almost gasped.

"I tripped, he caught me." You responded.

"It was straight out of a romcom! I think half of the people in here want to kill you." She giggled.

"He was just being polite." You glaze over the interaction and start to pull out your laptop and textbook.

"People are already calling him Gorgeous Gardener." She continued, and your breath stuttered. This case was going to be a lot more difficult than you thought.

You knew you were staring, ogling even. You were supposed to be looking at him, it was normal to keep your eyes on the professor. But the nickname was true. He was gorgeous. It had wormed it's way into your head, you couldn't escape the thought. Like a bad smell, the thought of Reid being attractive had spent it's time racing around your brain.

He looked like Reid, the same slightly grown out hair do. He moved like Reid, waving his hands around and fiddling with his fingers as he spoke. He dressed like Reid, a dark blue sweater vest and brown blazer. And he even smelled like Reid, the memory of his scent as he pulled you into him. Nevertheless, he wasn't making you feel like Reid.

But a sharp elbow jutted into your ribs.

"Ivy." He was standing at the front of the lecture hall with an expectant raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Could you give us a quick summary of Kantian ethics?" His face hadn't changed.

"Uh, yeah." You tried not to stumble over your words and sent him a glare. "Developed by Immanuel Kant, deciding whether actions are right or wrong depending on duty and moral rules, not the consequences."

"Thank you. Pay attention next time." He span around on his conversed feet and back to the whiteboard. The same condescending tone he used on every case when he felt the need to correct your every word.

At the end of the day. He was still Reid.

The rose coloured glasses that Professor Gardener had grown over your eyes wilted away in an instant. Rose had deepened to red and you were glaring at him the way you had a million times before.

"Kantian ethics teaches that we should always act according to moral duties and universal rules. This creates a fair and consistent moral system." He explained, pacing between his desk and the whiteboard. "Does anyone have an argument against?"

His eyes darted around the room, nodding towards a girl in the middle of the room.

"Uh, I'm just auditing this class." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She flashed a smile at him.

"Oh. Is anyone else auditing this class?" He asked, and a sea of hands raised and your lip curled up in slight disgust. "Hmm, ok."

Your hand shot up into the air. He nodded towards you a sign for you to speak, not before looking desperately for someone else to answer. "But life is more complicated than simple rules. What if it causes harm to follow a rule?"

He looked surprised at your rebuttal. "Kant would argue that the moral rules should be followed regardless of consequences. Otherwise, people would make exceptions when it suited them."

"But take the famous example. Lying to a killer to save someone’s life. Telling the truth would lead to the death of an innocent person."

"Morality becomes subjective if we start making exemptions." He clicked his tongue.

"We can still have moral principles while recognising that consequences matter. A rule that leads to preventable harm does not seem truly moral." He tried to shoot an argument back.

"Morality should also help people and reduce suffering. If a moral theory ignores the real effects of actions, it can produce unfair outcomes." You hide the look of satisfaction on your face.

"That is the most common critique of Kantian ethics." He nodded, turning to the whiteboard and uncapped the pen with a pop. "As it's a Friday, I give you an essay."

Everyone in the room groaned, arms hanging heavy by your sides as your eyes follow his letters. "Is Kantian Ethics correct? You can argue for or against. I expect them to be on my desk by next Friday. Have a good weekend." Just as everyone was about to run out of there at the speed of light. "My office hours are the same as Professor Wright's, so see the paper on the door."

----

The weekend for you didn't mean going out partying and scrambling to plan your essay. Instead, you were sat in the back of a local police precinct. The taste of cardboard and burnt coffee peeked through the burning in your mouth.

You were sat with your head held up by your chin. The door opened and the rest of the team filed in.

"How was class?" JJ asked a joking lilt in her voice, sliding an actual, smooth cup of coffee across the desk.

"Professor Gardener treating you well?" Emily snorted.

Glaring at her but thanking her for the coffee. "I have an essay due next Friday." You fix your glare on Reid, "Oh, and there's about twenty more people auditing the class."

"Nineteen." He corrected.

"And that's nineteen more potential victims." Morgan sighed, "Has anyone in the class come up? Nothing has come up on our end."

"For me, no not yet. Everyone seems like a regular student so far. But I've been keeping my eye out." You explain, notepad and textbook open with the arguments you had chosen highlighted.

"Well if you had spent your time actually looking, rather than gossiping with the girls at the front. You would have seen something." Reid snarked, turning his body away from you and started to address the rest of the team. "There's a guy at the back of the class.-"

You take a deep breath before speaking, "I know that you spent all of your school years sat in the class with no friends. But I didn't, and I'm not going to sulk in the back of the class." You were shoving things back into your bag. "Fuck off, Reid." Your backpack smacked into him as you stormed out of the precinct, the door slammed loudly behind you.

Raging as your feet slammed along the pavement, hands balled into fists, held tightly at your sides. "Ivy, Ivy!" It takes a few seconds for the name to register before you turn around with a smile on your face. "Are you ok? Why were you at the station?" Marie asked, worry painted on her face.

"I just had to change my address to get my mail." Rolling your eyes, you lean all of your weight onto your back foot. "The college said they had handled it, what a way to spend your weekend huh?"

"Oh my God! You should come out with me, Chloe and Sarah!" She grabbed the tops of your arms, shaking you back and forth.

"Um." You pretend to pause in thought. "Not this weekend, we have that essay due in. But next weekend, count me in!"

Marie's face lit up with a large smile. "I'm so excited!" She linked arms with you, leading you away from the station. "There's this bar, they have themed cocktails every single week. They’re a tad expensive but soo strong so it's worth the money!"

She reminded you of Pen in a way, the happy go lucky attitude. The way she took you in like a stray, forcing you to go out for drinks. She brought a slither of normal in your facade, and well there was no stopping Reid from being, well Reid.

----

You had gotten the call that morning. They had found another body. It was a guy, Harry Jones. He sat in the middle of the class, he never spoke. He just sat with his friends and took notes whenever was necessary.

Penelope had managed to work out every victims average grades. They had all been in the top half of the class.

You were slumped in your chair, not listening to a thing Reid was saying. Your ears were tuned into the rows behind you, listening in for any mention of Harry's name. You could tell he was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot.

No one was talking about anything of note. Marie, Chloe and Sarah were talking about what they were going to wear to the bar later. The people a few rows behind were talking about what grade they thought they were going to get. Not a mention of Harry. No one realised he was gone.

You could tell Reid was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot. Professor Gardener was long gone, you were looking at Reid. But it seemed he was coming up empty too.

"Right." He clapped, casually strolling over to the desk. Resting his hand atop the essays he had collected at the start of class and patted them gently. "Have a good weekend, no homework this week. See you on Wednesday!"

Marie linked arms with you once again, asking you what you were going to wear that night.

"Ivy!" His voice called as you got to the door.

"Hmm? Yes, Professor Gardener." You responded, leaning on the doorway.

"Could you come by my office later? I scanned your essay and there’s a couple points I think we could discuss in depth." He held up the paper, and Marie excuses herself. Lingering right outside.

"Sure, I'll swing by later." You run your finger across the paper on the door. "7pm?"

He nodded. "Sounds good."

Marie pretty much dragged you from the lecture hall. "You should so wear that dress you sent me a picture of." She giggled.

"I cannot wear that to my meeting with Professor Gardener." You deadpanned, hitting her lightly on the arm.

"I meant the bar. Your mind went there." She smiled, "But you should do that too, ugh I want him to go in depth with me." Groaning, she leant her head on your shoulder.

"Marie!" You exclaimed, jaw hanging open in shock. "You need to get laid girl, you should totally look for someone tonight."

"I was already planning on it." She smirked. "You better wear that dress."

----

You did wear the dress. The sparkly red fabric glittering as you snapped a picture for Penelope. It stopped at the top of your thighs, constantly pulling it down as your heels clicked on the pavement. It was too short, and had too much cleavage in your opinion, but it wasn't your opinion. It was Ivy's.

The halls were desolate and slightly chilly as you made your way to Reid's office. Well, Professor Wright's office. The golden plaque shined in the dim lighting. Checking over your shoulder, before you knocked on the door. You could hear shuffling behind the door before it swung open.

"Come in." He said, head sticking out of the door and looking down the hall.

"I wasn't followed." You rolled your eyes, your hand hitting his chest and kicking the door closed. Reaching behind you, clicking the lock shut you look around the office and step further in. "What do you want Reid?"

Standing across from him, hands resting on the back of the armchair opposite his desk. He looked up from the papers on his desk.

"What are you wearing?" It tumbled out of his mouth and his eyebrows scrunched together.

You matched his look of confusion. "A dress?" It wasn't like he hadn't seen you in a mini dress before. You always wore one when you went out with the team. Maybe not one this short or low cut, but a minidress nonetheless.

"Does Hotch know you're going out?" He asked, brows still furrowed.

"Yes, Professor Gardener." You snarked, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms across your chest.

He sucked in a breath, "I wanted to talk to you about your essay."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed, stalking around to the other side of the desk.

You leant across the desk, plucking out a red pen from the pot. Uncapping it and writing on your own paper. A. "There we go, now we don't have to talk about it."

"That's not-"

"Precise, correct, fair?" You laughed, straightening your back and you went to grab your handbag off of the table where you had dumped it.

But he snatched it out of your grasp, unzipping it and digging through it.

"What the fuck Reid?"

He held up the condoms that you had shoved into your bag. "Are you going to sleep with a college student?" His voice was coated with disdain.

"I don't think that's your business is it, Professor?" You lean forward, trying to snatch them out of his grip.

"As your Professor, no. But as your superior agent, it is." He moved backwards, stopping your waving grip. The smirk you had become acquainted with.

"I'm not going to fuck a college student. But I might just, if it pisses you off so much." You pouted in his face, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall in his face. "I know you're a virgin Reid but Jesus."

That caught him off guard, giving you the opportunity to snatch them back and slide them back into your handbag. "Maybe we won't even use these."

"I'm not a virgin." He gritted through his teeth, glaring at your bare back.

You can't help but laugh out loud at that, "I'll believe it when I see it." Your hair shakes with your head, striding towards the door.

The smell of him hits you before you feel him. Your hand stilled as it reached for the doorknob, the same scent that hit you when he stopped you from falling down the stairs. His grip on your bicep was familiar, the tips of his fingers digging in as his other hand brushed your hair to one side.

"You are insufferable." He whispered, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear.

It was like you had forgotten how to breathe. He was inching closer to you, the warmth of his chest radiating against your back. "Reid." You sighed.

"Professor." He corrected, spinning you around and pushing you against the door roughly. "If anyone gets to cum inside of you tonight, It's going to be me."

Your head thumped backwards, eyebrows pulling together as his eyes met yours. It was like you had lost all sense, you hated Reid. But the mention of him cumming inside you had any rational abandoned.

"Does that sound good?" He hummed.

"Yes, Professor Reid." You sighed.

"Fuck." He growled before pressing his lips into yours. Your hands came forward to grip onto the lapels on his blazer, pulling him closer. His lips were softer than you expected, contrasted with his teeth coming out to yank on your bottom lip.

Your bag dropped to the floor with a thud. As his hands, the hands you had spent countless lectures staring at, started to wander. Long fingers travelled down your back, pulling up goosebumps in their wake. Then, his hands scooped you up, legs wrapping around his hips as he pressed you into the door.

His hardness pushed into you, making you gasp out and slide your hands into his hair and giving it a light tug. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, walking you across the room and sliding the papers and pens off the desk. They hit the floor with a clatter as he lowered you down.

Both of you panted as he separated, a line of spit connecting you between your lips. Neither of you said anything for a beat, just staring at each other with blown pupils.

A second later, he cupped your jaw and pulled your back straight, kissing you again.

Now it was your turn for your hands to wander, slotting your hands under his blazer and pushing it off and it hit the floor gently. Then, your hands came to fiddle with the buckle on his belt. It clinked loudly as you whipped it out of the belt loops. The button popped open not long after.

He made work of your dress, pulling it up and letting it pool around your hips. Not even taking your panties off, just sliding them to the side as the pads of his fingers come into contact with your clit.

"Jesus!" You gasped out, pulling him closer with your ankle. Painted nails sliding down the front of his brown corduroy slacks and cupping his dick.

His eyes rake down you, dress pulled up, panties to the side. Eyes hooded, chest heaving desperately as you throw your head back.

"You look, divine." He whispered into your ear, the intimacy of it took you by surprise. His finger still worked against your clit, leaving you writhing and gasping under his gaze.

You shoved his slacks down, his white boxer shorts followed not long after. His compliment sent a fire through your veins and a desperation to have him inside you take over.

His fingers pulled off of you, your whining halted. "Hurry up and fuck me!" You groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your heel dug into his backside and it fell to the floor.

He took his dick in his hand, looking down at you. The tip hit against your clit and he slid it up and down through your wetness. "Ah, ah, ah." He teased, refusing to push in, just leaving you with the delicious pressure of almost. "Say please."

"Oh, fuck off." You sigh, trying anything to get closer. Just anything to get him inside you.

He pulled his dick away, and it was like your brain had melted any rationality away. "Please, Reid." You pleaded, knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping the edge of his desk. "Professor, please." You looked up at him through your lashes.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. He pressed his forehead to yours just as he sank into you. He was bigger than you thought he'd be. Not that you'd thought about it. The head brushed past your g spot as he bottomed out.

You couldn't help the almost scream that came from you. "Spencer!"

You had never called him Spencer, most of the time you didn't even address him. But any worry left your mind after hearing his groan as he pulled most of the way out, before slamming into you again.

His lips attached to your neck and your toes curled inside your heels. "No marks." You panted out.

Nodding into the crook of your neck, he slid his hands under you. He lifted you slightly, the new angle letting him pound deeper inside you. This lead to a string of moans to explode from your chest and his hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He wasn't doing a good job of keeping quiet himself. Panting and groaning into your neck, teeth scratching your earlobe. Your hands screwed into the front of his shirt, whining helplessly at the brutal pace he was fucking you with.

"S-spencer." You both fall backwards, your back flat on the cool wooden desk and him hunched over you never faltering.

"You're much more bearable like this." He smirked down at you, reviling in the state he had you in. A fucked out pink flush painted across your cheeks, tits bouncing with every thrust that coaxed a wet noise from your pussy every time he slapped against it.

You tried to form a rebuttal, but what came out was babbling that vaugly sounded like hsi name. Desperately, pulling him closer with your nails scratching down his back.

"Awh, poor baby." He teased, "Can't you speak?"

The mocking had your head reeling and your walls clenching around him. The teasing, his body pressing you into the desk, the unrelenting pace and the smell of him was all just too much. It had the coil inside you ready to snap.

Your eyes meet his again and you slam your mouth to his. Tongue peeking into your mouth as your thighs started to tremble. You had your toes curled so hard that your heels slid off your feet and falling to the floor. Spencer's hand snaked down and hit your clit again, moving the wetness around with his fingers.

It had lightening bolts shooting through your spine and the coil in your belly to snap. Nails digging into his shoulder blades and a too loud cry of his name. "Spencer!" It almost echoed around the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, leaving you tightening and fluttering around his cock.

Then, he was cumming himself, with a similar groan of your name and a few more deep thrusts that sent your eyes rolling. His release was warm inside of you, he paused for a second. Letting it pool inside of you and leaving you both breathing into each others mouth's. His dick slid out of you, pussy clenching around emptiness. Gently, he moved your underwear back with a tenderness you wouldn't have expected.

Suddenly, the feeling of his cum pooling in your panties, had you hurtling back to reality. It was like a cool bucket of water had been thrown over you.

It was Reid. You and Reid had sex. Not even sex, fucked. He was technically your professor. And you had his cum dripping out of you.

You yanked your dress down, refusing to look him in the eye.

"That can't happen again." He called over his shoulder as you grabbed your bag. Piling the lip gloss that had spilled all over the floor when it had fallen from your fingers.

"I know." You commented, clicking the lock open and the door.

"Be careful, and you can call me if you need me to come and get you." He gave you that tight lipped smile he did when he felt awkward.

"Will do." You mirrored his face, your hair falling in front of your face and closing the door with a soft click.

Your dress was missing sparkles from all over and you had six missed calls from Marie, and you took off into the city.

----

The bar was exactly as Marie had described. It was slightly tacky with bright coloured lights with ocean themed drinks. Everyone was walking around with blue drinks with fish shaped ice cubes, sharks sticking from the top.

"Ivy!" Marie called, waving you over from the booth they had grabbed in the corner.

"Hey." You smiled and sidled into the booth next to Sarah.

"What did Professor Gardener want?" Sarah asked, close to your ear, cutting through the thumping pop music.

"Apparently, I did really well on my essay. There was just a couple mistakes he wanted me to clear up for next time." You smiled, casting a look towards the bar. "I'm going to go and get a drink! I'll be back."

The drink was overly sweet, Penelope would have loved it. The grenadine turned the blue drink a light purple.

"So tell us what mark you got, you can't leave us hanging girl." Marie grasped onto your arm. "Also what happened with Professor Gardenerrr?" She teased lightly and Chloe smacked her on the arm.

"I got a 97." You feigned a blush, hiding you face behind your hair.

Marie and Chloe gasped, excitedly shaking you back and forth. Some of your drink sloshing over the rim and making the bar table more sticky than it already was.

"You're going to get the credits that you need toats, oh my god we need to throw you a graduation party." She praised, her face lit up in the same way you had seen it so many times.

Just as you went to agree, head already nodding.

"Ivy, that guy over there is so looking at you." Sarah cut across, pointing a finger across the bar.

Your eyes followed her finger to find a very smiley Derek Morgan. You smile back at him with a small wave.

"Well go talk to him! He's so hot!" Chloe exclaimed, "Plus you deserve it after such a good essay."

Your eyes darted between them and him, pretending to give a moment of deliberation. Before standing up and glancing over your shoulder. "If he's weird, I'm coming back."

Winding your way through the crowded bar, smoothly directing yourself between sweaty bodies until you got to the booth. You slid up next to Morgan, your side pressing up against his.

"This dress is a gift from Penelope I assume." He whispered into your ear and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"How could you tell?" You said back, looking back to the table of girls looking towards you expectantly. Sticking your thumb up towards them, you turn towards Derek fully.

"Have you been dancing with someone else babybird?" He asked, still leaned in close.

"No, why?" You scrunched your eyebrows.

"You smell like another man."

It felt like your stomach dropped to your feet, and you hoped and prayed that he wouldn't recognise the scent. Suddenly, it was like you could feel the cum that was wetting your panties through. The shame burned bright on your cheeks.

"Yikes, I need to get rid of my perfume." Joking, you elbowed him, "Go for a smoke?" You pulled the packet out of your purse and waved it in his face.

As the two of you stepped out of the bar you sent Marie a message. 'Going home with hot stuff, see you wednesday. ;)'

The cool air hit and was very, very welcome. Bricks pressed into your back and you let out a long, deep sigh. Lighting up the cigarette and holding it towards Derek.

"I don't smoke." He smiled, watching you puff out smoke.

"One of the girls I was with, Sarah. Get Pen to look into her, she was acting weird about my meeting with Reid." You throw a look over your shoulder and see Marie and the girls looking at you expectantly. "I think we're being watched." You murmured, leaning close to Derek's ear.

His muscles flexed under your trailing grip. "Want to get out of here?"

"Yeah." You nod, throwing a sheepish glance over your shoulder and a small wave to the girls who definitely weren't looking through the window.

Turning the corner there was a familiar squad car waiting for you.

----

Again, you spent your weekend hunched over a conference table. Files piled up around your head. The team had gone all in on Sarah, and the deeper you dug, the more she looked like your unsub.

"Her grades have been steadily dropping for the last few semesters." Emily commented, putting another file in the completed bin.

"Ah-Ha!" Penelope exclaimed, her face popping up on the monitor. "Recently, Sarah's adoptive Mom died. It didn't come up in the original searches because she wasn't offically adopted. The papers never went through."

"So we've got our stressor." Hotch nodded, his arms crossed tensely in the corner of the room. "Reid, have you noticed anything during class?"

As he started talking, you realised you hadn't looked over once. It was like he wasn't even there. "She seemed pretty normal until I read through the essay she handed in. Her critique of the ethics I set was neither for or against. But was more arguing that murder isn't entirely immoral." He explained, taking a sip from his coffee before continuing.

"Her argument was that neither lying or committing the murder is immoral. As both have their own moral explanations." He continued.

"Like lying to the murderer, or killing in self defence." You said without thought, his brown eyes meeting yours. Gaze dropped to your swirling cup of coffee, there was no escape from reminders of him.

"Wow babybird, they'll make a philosopher of you yet." Emily smiled, JJ giggled. "But what's the plan to get her to act again."

Rossi started to plan, "Release the grades publicly, put a select few people at the top of the list. We put an agent on everyone on the top of the list."

"She already thinks babybird has done well. So we stick her in a college dorm and wait. Also." He paused, looking between you and Reid. "If we were to drum up some rumours." He clicked his tongue, holding back a smirk.

Penelope squealed through the screen, "Are you telling me the garden is going to grow some ivy?" Her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.

"What?" Reid asked, confused.

"Only if the two of you are comfortable." Hotch said at the same time and you sank deeper into the chair. Face burning as bright as a christmas light.

"Oh God." You groaned, head in your hands. Peeking through your fingers at Reid's face paling after JJ had kindly explained it into his ear. Finally, you made real eye contact for the first time all morning.

"We'll do it." He confirmed with a nod, and you a slightly less sure one.

"Oh my God!" Penelope cried, "It's like a cringe romcom. You should wear that mini skirt!"

"Garcia." Hotch warned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Your eyes still locked together, you had to remind you it was for a case. All of it was for a case. No matter how fast your heart was beating. None of it was real.

----

The mini skirt was worn. Pleats brushing the tops of your thighs, falling right at the curve of your ass. The shirt you were wearing had one too many buttons undone.

Class hadn't started, it was just you and Reid in your meticulously planned play. Standing at his desk with your open, empty notebook. The bend of your back too salacious for just a teacher and student. His warmth radiated on your back as his arm reached around you, finger running down the blank page. You swore you could feel him starting to grow against your ass. Goosebumps pulled up on your skin, it wasn't real. It was a waiting game and you were begging for someone to catch you.

And someone did. Marie, Chloe and Sarah came bustling in. They paused in the doorway as the two of you jumped apart in fake shock.

"Um, thank you." You stuttered shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Eyes planted firmly at your shoes, toes tapping on the floor and making your way to your front row seat.

Marie scrambled to your side, dragging you down into the seat as everyone else made their way in. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you mean." Your voice ticked up, eyes raking him up and down.

"Mhm." She hummed, eyebrow raised.

You weren't listening to anything he was saying. Shamelessly, eye fucking him as he explained things to the class. Lip bitten in between your teeth and tongue wetting your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, the three of them couldn't help but glance over.

He was just as intense back, every wave of his hands sending you back to having your brain fucked out on his desk. The lines were blurring between Ivy and Gardener and you and Reid. And you weren't sure if you minded.

Then, your pen rolled off the wooden desk, clattering to the ground and silencing his rambling. Halting teaching, striding towards your desk. When he crouched, your legs uncrossed. Revealing the damp spot that was ever present on your panties.

It sent him stuttering, "Y-your pen... Ivy."

"Thank you, Professor." The pen made home in between your lips, looking up at him through your lashes. Ivy had disappeared, it felt like it was just you and Reid in the room. Everyone else melted away.

He spent the rest of the lecture, glancing over to you every few seconds. Wiping sweaty palms down the front of his pants. "Alright!" He concluded, "I think that's enough for today. Oh! But before you go. Your essays, I'll hand them out."

He travelled back to front. Telling polite good jobs, or this needs improvements. Until, he got to the front row. Chloe and Marie got a good job, a kind nod, that left them smiling at their marks.

But then came Sarah, he slid the paper across the desk upside down with a tight smile on his face. And then you, a huge smile on his face, hand reaching out to your shoulder. It wasn't real.

"See me after class." His thumb brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder, before turning to the rest of the class. "Alright! See you next week!"

Hanging around, you waved goodbye to Marie and Chloe. Sarah had disappeared quickly, throwing a look you couldn't quite read over her shoulder before turning the corner.

The door slammed close, but the tight air didn't diffuse. You drifted to the other side, leaning on your desk. You could hear him breathing, hands gripping the desk, back hunched over. The lines had blurred, it wasn't Ivy's underwear that were soaked through. It was yours.

"Reid-" You started, his name coming out more like an awkward squeak.

"Spencer." He cut you off, voice gruff and he finally straightened up. His brown leather shoes, clicked on the tiled floor. A slow, echoing rhythm that made you look up from your swinging feet.

"Look, I'm sorry." You sighed, looking everywhere but his face. "I took it too far." Mouth claggy, hands sweaty.

"Hmm," He hummed, hand darting out and gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. "Are you sorry? The state of your panties says otherwise."

His fingers lingered at the crook of your knee. Softly, dragging up your thigh but stopping right before they could hit exactly where you wanted.

You whined, a high pitched, pathetic noise. "Spencer."

The look in his eyes lit you on fire. Tilting your head up, short breaths puffing from your lips. "Please."

His lips pressed against yours, tilting your neck up to meet his mouth. You groaned into his mouth, the noise silenced by his tongue dipping into your mouth. One hand brushed over your underwear, pressing into your clit lightly, the other gripped into your waist. Bringing you to the edge of the desk, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. At his mercy.

It was torture, the feather light touches giving you only a second of relief. He was smirking, the slight stubble that had grown in scratching at your chin.

At your wits end, you bite into his bottom lip. Teeth sinking into the skin and pulling back lightly. The two of you breathing in the others mouth, minty remnants coat your tongue.

"I swear to God Reid." You panted, hips bucking upwards into his fingers, "You are driving me crazy."

"I'm driving you crazy?" He scoffed, "You came in, wearing that tiny skirt. Basically bent over in front of me, then flashed me your wet panties, all while I was teaching." His tongue darted out, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat.

"Hotch's orders." You gasp, hand digging into his ragged curls and tugged him backwards.

He laughed, a mocking ring. "Oh I'm sure, I bet he told you to spread your legs for me. I wonder what he would say if I reported back? Huh babybird?"

The nickname out of his mouth had your head reeling, a complete opposite to the usual softness that came from Derek or Emily.

"I wonder what he would say, if I told him one of his best agents crumbled at the sight of me in a mini dress?" You shot back, hand cupping his now fully hard dick.

Finally, he pulled your panties down your legs. And slid them into his back pocket, his fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck Spencer!" You cried out, now fumbling at his belt. Clammy hands struggling with the buckle, arms falling weak as Spencer's fingers started to thrust in and out of you. A punishing pace, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Every press of his fingers had a loud squelch bouncing around the lecture hall. Twitching his fingers upwards, brushing your g spot and laughing at your body falling limp. You used him as a support beam, slumped over in pleasure. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair.

"Feel good baby?" He asked, voice turning soft.

"Mhm." You hummed, his fingers turning your brain to mush. "Close." You sighed into his chest.

"Good girl." He smiled, soft kisses peppered along the crook of your neck and collarbone.

The kind praise coming from Spencer of all people, had you hurling over the edge. Toes curling and hands desperately digging into his shoulder blades. Your thighs shook, clamping around his wrist tightly.

"Fucking hell." You sighed, breath warm on his ear as you pulled him into a soft kiss. It left your heart racing, almost exploding out of your chest.

You were holding on to him like a lifeline, he was holding onto you in a similar vein. His belt buckle clinked, pants pooling at his knees, before sliding into your warmth.

Still sensitive from a moment ago, your lips dug into your lip as he began to gently thrust. It was tender, a gentle rocking in and out. Soft strokes pulling through your hair. Smooth hands trailing up your spine.

It was almost too much. Too different. He wasn't being condescending, there was no mocking. Just sweet cooing in your ear that made you clench around him. Incoherent babbling of his name fell from your lips.

Then, he whispered your name. A gentle, soft noise that had you cumming around him. Stars bloomed behind your eye as you came, a whimpering moan falling from your lips.

He followed not long after you, pressing his forehead to yours. Chanting your name over and over, he released inside of you. A curl fell, sticking to him. He looked charming, you thought. Leaning down, he kissed you again, slow and languid.

It all felt too real.

"Um." You started, looking up at him. Pink cheeks and a shy smile, "Thank you."

"And thank you." He said, as he moved a fallen strand of hair away from your eyes.

"Can I have my panties back?" You bit your lip.

For a second, you just stared at him. Playing with your fingers, you started to giggle, and so did he. The laughter was infectious, everything was light. It was foreign, you weren't going at each others throats. There was no snarky comments, no corrections.

"Sure." He was smiling, not the smile he did when he was being polite. But the one when Penelope let him ramble about doctor who, or when JJ surprised him with a chocolate covered sprinkled doughnut.

He handed them to you, cool to the touch where they were still damp. There was a pool where his cum had dripped out of you. The desk under you, covered in him.

Shimmying them up your legs, more of him dripped out of you. You grimaced and he smirked.

"Shut up." You grumped, pouting slightly.

Suddenly, there was a rush of people outside of the hall. Another class period had ended. Had you really been in there that long?

"Right."

"Right." He echoed.

"I better head off, time to lure a murderer to my fake apartment." You joked, he didn't laugh. "Kidding."

Turning, you packed your bag and jogged up the stairs, hoping that he couldn't see the huge wet spot on your underwear. You'd never hear the end of it.

"Be careful." He called when you reached the last step with his hands in his pockets rocking back on his heels.

"I will."

----

Sometimes, you wished unsubs were less predictable. You had spotted Sarah two blocks away, she lurked around corners, hid behind signs and she thought the hat she had on was hiding her face.

As soon as you'd seen her, you messaged Hotch. By the time you reached the apartment block you'd seen three squad cars. The front entrance was propped open so she could follow you right on in.

And she did. Apartment 6B was on the third floor. When you got to the second the front entrance slammed closed. She was not far behind you now.

Anyone with eyes could tell no one lived in apartment 6B, it was bland as anything. The walls were stark white, all the furniture was drab grey. There was nothing personal at all. No photos on the walls, no trinkets sprawled on every surface.

You had left the door unlocked behind you, and dumped your bag on the boring, rough couch. Walking to the kitchen, you slid open the door by the sink. Your gun sat inside, exactly where Derek had left it. Him and JJ were in your 'bedroom', waiting for the signal.

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" You called, sliding your gun into the waistband of your skirt and made your way to the door. "Sarah!" You gasped, then tilted your head, taking a pause. "How... do you know where I live?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"You bitch!" She growled, immediately jumping at you. A knife that she had hidden behind her back at the ready. Now, that was an escalation.

Your hand gripped her forearm, trying to wrangle the knife from her grasp. The two of you crashed into the wall, the tip of the knife scratched against your shoulder. Dark blood stained your shirt.

"Sarah put the knife down." You pleaded, the air puffing out of your lungs as you fell to the floor. The coffee table's legs crashing under your back.

"You're a no good slut." Sarah lifted the knife, ready to strike down upon you. Derek and JJ came running out of the bedroom, guns drawn and shouting.

"FBI! Put the knife down!" Derek barked, moving in on her.

The crazed look in her eyes told you she wasn't going to relent. Scrambling back, you swept her legs out from under her. Her ribs crashed into your legs and the knife fell from her grip. It sliced your calf, the blood running down and turning your white sock red.

They moved in, yanking her off of your legs and pulling her arms behind her. Cuffs clinked as he read her, her rights. JJ rushed to your side, kneeling beside you.

"Are you ok?" She flustered, hand grasping onto your uninjured shoulder.

"I'm fine." You nodded, smoothing down your skirt. You hissed when her finger prodded at your leg. "Ow!"

She laughed lightly, "Cmon, there's an ambulance outside." She helped you up, supporting you as you hobbled down the staircase and out onto the street.

You get forced into the back of an ambulance, Hotch stood guard at the door. The paramedics started to pepper you with questions.

"Did you hit your head?" She shined a torch in your eyes, checking for signs of a concussion.

"No," You shake your head. "Just the slashes." You confirmed and slid your shirt off of your shoulder.

"Alright, you'll need a couple stitches in each one. We can do it here." She explained, starting to stitch you up. "You'll need to take it easy for a couple of weeks." She said, with a pointed glance towards Hotch.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, legs swinging as they processed Sarah.

"Hey." Spencer said, sitting down next to you. "I heard you got quite roughed up."

"I'm ok." You smiled, head resting on the side of the ambulance.

"Uh, I got you something." He coughed, rummaging around in his pocket and pulled out a red lollipop. "The sugar will be good for keeping your energy up after losing blood. It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff."

"It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff." You said at the same time, holding back a laugh at his face. "You said the same to Em when she got grazed two months ago."

"Do you memorise everything I say?" He smirked.

"Well if I didn't how could I be precise? Professor Reid." You batted your eyelashes at him.

"Don't." He warned with a finger waved in your face, clambering up from the back of the ambulance when he saw Emily walking your way. He gave a wave before heading over to the rest of the team.

Unwrapping the treat with a loud crinkle, you called out. "Spencer!"

He turned and raised his brows.

"Thank you!" Popping it into your mouth, as Emily sat down next to you.

"Since when do you call him Spencer?" She asked, eyes darting between you.

"Recent development." You shrugged, trying not to stare.

"We told you, you just needed to fuck it out." She smiled, bumping your good shoulder with hers. "Was it the dress? Cuz I'd so do you in that."

"Shut up." You grumbled, cheeks heating up. Going even more red as you locked eyes with Spencer.

"Babybird and pretty boy sittin in a tree." She whispered in your ear, then doubled over laughing after you jabbed your elbow into her ribs.

----

"Georgia college." He sighed and passed a file across the table, "Four students from the same philosophy class have been murdered. All of them found dead in their dorm, poisoned."

"Jesus, that's brutal." You sigh, "Can the local police not interview everyone in the class?"

"They have, no one has flagged any concern. So they believe the unsub can either blend in or is another student on campus." He explained, "So they asked us if we had an agent we could send in. Morgan calls you baby bird for a reason." He smiled, a rare Hotch smile.

"So, we're sending you in as a college student. And Reid as a professor."

You choked back a cough. "Reid?"

It wasn't like you didn't like Reid, but he did not like you. He had a reputation, smart, genius that doesn't like newcomers in his unit. He never let you get away with a slip of the tongue, constantly correcting your every word. It was infuriating.

"He's an experienced profiler and he has lecturing experience." Hotch said, "Plus he will have a view of the whole room."

"I don't need hand holding Hotch." You pursed your lips, flipping the file closed and pressing it onto your legs.

"I know you don't. It's for everyone's safety." He sighed and huffed with a tone that told you there was no point in arguing back.

Sinking into the chair, you cross one leg over the other. "Do I need to do the assignments?" You asked.

"We aren’t sure yet. Come on, Garcia is about to debrief the team." He held the door open for you and you ducked under his arm.

The round table chatter stopped as soon as you stepped into the room. All of them trying to look busy as they did whenever they were gossiping.

"Do I really look like I could still be in college?" You sigh and throw yourself into your chair in between Morgan and JJ.

"Yes." "Yes." "A little." "We call you baby bird for a reason."

"I hate you guys." You grump, and shove your elbow into Morgan's ribs. "I do not look twenty two. I'm almost thirty."

"Actually," You roll your eyes as you hear Reid's voice cut across the chuckling. "You're actually three years, seven months and eleven days away from thirty. So not almost. Also due to your slightly larger eyes and your affinity to wear pink makes people believe you are younger than you actually are." He rattled off, fiddling with his fingers.

You opened your mouth to spit something back when Penelope came into the room in a flurry. She had bags of shopping bundled into her grip, dumping them down the floor and swooping in with the remote in hand.

"Morning, my superhuman crime fighters. I'll get right into it! At Georgia college four students have recently been killed in their dorm rooms." She clicked on the button and four pictures popped up. "James Gripe, Lucy Brown, Issac Nike and Cara Smith. At first, they thought James Gripe had died from caffeine overconsumption and stress from finals. But then, Lucy, Issac and Cara were found in the concurrent weeks." She sighed sadly, looking at their faces in sympathy.

"Crossing both race and gender lines is rare." Rossi stated, scribbling down the names in his journal.

"The police already looked into the other students in the class right?" Emily asked and Hotch nodded.

"No one caused them any concern." He confirmed, "And as far as the students know they all have died of an overdose and stress related causes. The local ME is currently checking the bodies for signs of poison."

"The media is going to have a field day if this gets out." JJ sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Alright. Wheels up in 30, the sooner we get started the better. We'll discuss the undercover operation on the jet." Hotch said, striding out of the round table and back into his office.

Everyone else filed out, Derek pulling Reid to the side and mumbling something about "Getting better at talking to women." and Pen yanked you to the side before you could step out.

"I got you some things!" She rummaged around in the bag and shoved some clothes into your arms.

You held up a dress against your body. "Why the hell did you buy me a club dress?"

"You're going to college! And you're like my little sister and I couldn't send you off without a hot dress" She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, and a shirt and a mini skirt." She held them up.

"Thanks Pen." You smile and pull her into a tight hug. "I'll send you a picture if i end up wearing it." She gripped back onto you tighter.

"Come back to me safe, Baby Bird." She whispered into your hair.

"I will." You nod and peck her on the cheek, shoving the clothes into your go bag and getting ready to hit the tarmac.

"Wait!" Pen shouts across the bullpen and runs toward you as fast as she could with her too high heels. "I forgot to give you these."

----

Hauling your go bag into the overhead cabin, you sit down opposite Hotch. He slides your new ID across the table and you put it straight into your wallet.

"Everyone in that class is a potential victim." Derek sighed, flipping over the papers in his file.

"What that's like forty more potential victims?" You scoff, shaking your head.

"Forty six. Well, forty seven including you." Reid cut in, not even looking up from the book his face was buried in.

"Close enough." You grit out, teeth clenched.

"Not exact." He spat back.

Rolling your eyes and turning away from him, shoving a middle finger his way and huffing towards Derek. He smiled towards you cheekily, "Did you get Penelope's gifts?"

"Yeah. A tiny shirt, a mini skirt and a barely there dress." Derek let out a low whistle. "Oh, and about five million condoms." You pull the box from your pocket where you'd shoved them in with your cheeks turning red, hoping that no one in the bullpen saw.

"You could go through half of Georgia with those."

Ripping off a strip and threw it, hitting him square in the chest. "And you can go through half the police department with those." You joke and nudge him with the tip of your shoe.

"That was one time man!" He exclaimed.

"Actually, there were the two in Colorado." Emily piped in.

"One in California, and another in Florida." JJ continued.

"Don't forget police chief Jones in Texas." You teased, counting on your fingers.

"And the nurse in Oregon." Rossi finished.

"And that was all in the last six months." Hotch put the nail in the coffin, never usually joining in on the team banter. But he was smirking over his file at Derek's mock glare.

"C'mon we've all gone home with someone once. Well apart from babybird and pretty boy over there." He defended, throwing his hands up.

You scoff, "Hey, I don't want to become a case. Look at half of our cases, they all go home with their killers." You shake your head and climb out of the seat and into the plane aisle.

"At least I'm not thirty year old virgin over there." You snort, pulling open the small blue curtain to the kitchenette with a loud screech.

"Thirty two." He corrects, having now moved on to another book. Flipping a page in between words, the whole page completed.

"I like how that's the part you correct." You purse your lips, snorting and closing the curtain behind you, the kettle beginning to bubble. You knew he was thirty two, you were there at the party Pen made him have at Rossi's. But sometimes, you liked to push. To see how far you could take it before he couldn't resist and correct you. Usually, it just took you rounding up or down to make his patience to tip over.

You sigh quietly as you sit down with a scalding cup of coffee, the bitter taste burning your tongue as you sip it down.

"Looking forward to doing assignments again?" Emily asks, clasping her hands together on the wooden table.

"Definitely not, I'm not that well versed in philosophy so I better get reading." You smile, trying to lighten her worry.

"I suspect Professor Reid will mark you highly." She laughed, her eyes darting over your shoulder to him.

You follow her gaze and quickly glance over, hoping he wouldn't notice. But he was already looking at you. Probably from hearing Emily mention his name. It takes you a second to pull away from his intense stare. Emily cleared her throat, yanking you back to reality.

"I think I'll be his least favourite student." You roll your eyes, still feeling his eyes glaring at the back of your head.

----

You never thought you’d be back at college. But now, you were walking through the hallways of Georgia college with a backpack filled to the brim on your back. Thick textbooks and laptop weighing you down, or was it the nerves of trying to blend in?

It was far too early in the morning for most of the students around you, all dragging their feet and murmured complaints due to the previous late night.

Slowing, in front of the lecture hall. Coming to a stop in front of a group of girls standing and chatting amongst themselves.

“Excuse me,” You start. “Is this Professor Wright’s philosophy?”

They quiet, and turn to you. “Yeah! but he’s on leave so another professor is standing in. Are you new?” The dark haired girl asked, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, I just transferred from Arizona. Something to do with the credit amounts for graduation.” You shrugged. “I’m - Ivy." The name stumbles out unnaturally, like it doesn't belong to you. Because it doesn't. The introduction feels foreign in your mouth and heat pooled in your cheeks.

“Marie. And this is Chloe and Sarah.” She points to the girls staring behind her, they both give a wave.

The door to the lecture hall swings open. And everyone starts to file in. The plan was to sit at the back, keeping your head down and being able to view the whole room.

“Come sit with us!” Marie smiled, waving you over to the front row.

Descending down the stairs of the lecture hall, long hair bouncing, you slide into the seat on the end of the aisle. Pulling out your laptop and loading it up.

“I wonder what the new professor will be like,” She whispered into your ear. “Professor Wright was great, but he was basically a dinosaur.” She giggled.

“Hopefully good. I really need this credit.” You sigh, opening your mouth to speak again when the door swings open.

“Sorry, I’m late. I couldn’t find the hall.” Reid came spluttering into the hall and throwing his shoulder bag on the desk and uncapping the whiteboard marker and scribbling his name now. “I’m Professor Gardener, and I’ll be here while Professor Wright is on sick leave. I assure you he is feeling OK and has started his recovery.”

But you knew Professor Wright wasn’t sick, he was sat in his cushy lakeside home. Getting paid time off to lounge around and read through his library.

It had allowed Professor Gardener or as you knew, Doctor Reid pacing around in his element. He had slid into the professor role like a second skin. Hotch had mentioned he had guest lectured before, but the confidence was surprising.

“I’ve been told you were about to start Kantian ethics. So into Kantian ethics 101!” His hands clap and his voice fades into the background as another voice whispered in your ear, pulling you away from the lecture.

“He’s so hot.” Marie said, your head darting toward her.

“What?” You whisper back, slightly alarmed, “Don’t you think he’s like a bit, I don’t know, nerdy?”

“But like a hot nerd.”

Reid’s rambling pulled your attention back to the front of the room. He wasn’t hot, he was all knitted cardigans and wool ties. Stupid facts about Doctor who and how the physics was dodgy. He talked with his hands, waving them around with every unnecessary word. Long fingers that could solve a rubix cube in seconds. His facial hair had started growing in, a shadow coating the bottom half of his face. And standing up there as he lectured, the way the words slipped from him with ease. Maybe, he was hot.

But he was Reid. And Reid was your annoying co worker. The only person on the team who still didn't believe in you as an agent. And there he was standing, as Professor Gardener. And he looked hot.

----

And apparently, half of campus also thought so. Walking into the lecture hall that had been half empty was almost full. The sight makes you trip over your feet and almost tumble down the stairs.

A hand grabbed your bicep and pulled you back and into a chest. You don't need to turn around to know who it was. You knew his cologne, the scent of books and coffee also a hint of mint. You steady yourself and spin around to look at him, he was closer than you thought he would be.

"Professor Gardener. Uh, thank you." You nod and start to head down the stairs where Marie had saved you a seat with her handbag.

"You're also new, Ivy right?" He said, falling in step next to you.

His casual small talk takes you back, you can never recall a time Reid had spoken to you casually. "Yeah, I had to transfer. Graduation credits, you know how it is." You shrugged, stopping at the row. "And thank you again."

Sitting down next to Marie, she immediately grips onto you. "What was that?" She almost gasped.

"I tripped, he caught me." You responded.

"It was straight out of a romcom! I think half of the people in here want to kill you." She giggled.

"He was just being polite." You glaze over the interaction and start to pull out your laptop and textbook.

"People are already calling him Gorgeous Gardener." She continued, and your breath stuttered. This case was going to be a lot more difficult than you thought.

You knew you were staring, ogling even. You were supposed to be looking at him, it was normal to keep your eyes on the professor. But the nickname was true. He was gorgeous. It had wormed it's way into your head, you couldn't escape the thought. Like a bad smell, the thought of Reid being attractive had spent it's time racing around your brain.

He looked like Reid, the same slightly grown out hair do. He moved like Reid, waving his hands around and fiddling with his fingers as he spoke. He dressed like Reid, a dark blue sweater vest and brown blazer. And he even smelled like Reid, the memory of his scent as he pulled you into him. Nevertheless, he wasn't making you feel like Reid.

But a sharp elbow jutted into your ribs.

"Ivy." He was standing at the front of the lecture hall with an expectant raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Could you give us a quick summary of Kantian ethics?" His face hadn't changed.

"Uh, yeah." You tried not to stumble over your words and sent him a glare. "Developed by Immanuel Kant, deciding whether actions are right or wrong depending on duty and moral rules, not the consequences."

"Thank you. Pay attention next time." He span around on his conversed feet and back to the whiteboard. The same condescending tone he used on every case when he felt the need to correct your every word.

At the end of the day. He was still Reid.

The rose coloured glasses that Professor Gardener had grown over your eyes wilted away in an instant. Rose had deepened to red and you were glaring at him the way you had a million times before.

"Kantian ethics teaches that we should always act according to moral duties and universal rules. This creates a fair and consistent moral system." He explained, pacing between his desk and the whiteboard. "Does anyone have an argument against?"

His eyes darted around the room, nodding towards a girl in the middle of the room.

"Uh, I'm just auditing this class." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She flashed a smile at him.

"Oh. Is anyone else auditing this class?" He asked, and a sea of hands raised and your lip curled up in slight disgust. "Hmm, ok."

Your hand shot up into the air. He nodded towards you a sign for you to speak, not before looking desperately for someone else to answer. "But life is more complicated than simple rules. What if it causes harm to follow a rule?"

He looked surprised at your rebuttal. "Kant would argue that the moral rules should be followed regardless of consequences. Otherwise, people would make exceptions when it suited them."

"But take the famous example. Lying to a killer to save someone’s life. Telling the truth would lead to the death of an innocent person."

"Morality becomes subjective if we start making exemptions." He clicked his tongue.

"We can still have moral principles while recognising that consequences matter. A rule that leads to preventable harm does not seem truly moral." He tried to shoot an argument back.

"Morality should also help people and reduce suffering. If a moral theory ignores the real effects of actions, it can produce unfair outcomes." You hide the look of satisfaction on your face.

"That is the most common critique of Kantian ethics." He nodded, turning to the whiteboard and uncapped the pen with a pop. "As it's a Friday, I give you an essay."

Everyone in the room groaned, arms hanging heavy by your sides as your eyes follow his letters. "Is Kantian Ethics correct? You can argue for or against. I expect them to be on my desk by next Friday. Have a good weekend." Just as everyone was about to run out of there at the speed of light. "My office hours are the same as Professor Wright's, so see the paper on the door."

----

The weekend for you didn't mean going out partying and scrambling to plan your essay. Instead, you were sat in the back of a local police precinct. The taste of cardboard and burnt coffee peeked through the burning in your mouth.

You were sat with your head held up by your chin. The door opened and the rest of the team filed in.

"How was class?" JJ asked a joking lilt in her voice, sliding an actual, smooth cup of coffee across the desk.

"Professor Gardener treating you well?" Emily snorted.

Glaring at her but thanking her for the coffee. "I have an essay due next Friday." You fix your glare on Reid, "Oh, and there's about twenty more people auditing the class."

"Nineteen." He corrected.

"And that's nineteen more potential victims." Morgan sighed, "Has anyone in the class come up? Nothing has come up on our end."

"For me, no not yet. Everyone seems like a regular student so far. But I've been keeping my eye out." You explain, notepad and textbook open with the arguments you had chosen highlighted.

"Well if you had spent your time actually looking, rather than gossiping with the girls at the front. You would have seen something." Reid snarked, turning his body away from you and started to address the rest of the team. "There's a guy at the back of the class.-"

You take a deep breath before speaking, "I know that you spent all of your school years sat in the class with no friends. But I didn't, and I'm not going to sulk in the back of the class." You were shoving things back into your bag. "Fuck off, Reid." Your backpack smacked into him as you stormed out of the precinct, the door slammed loudly behind you.

Raging as your feet slammed along the pavement, hands balled into fists, held tightly at your sides. "Ivy, Ivy!" It takes a few seconds for the name to register before you turn around with a smile on your face. "Are you ok? Why were you at the station?" Marie asked, worry painted on her face.

"I just had to change my address to get my mail." Rolling your eyes, you lean all of your weight onto your back foot. "The college said they had handled it, what a way to spend your weekend huh?"

"Oh my God! You should come out with me, Chloe and Sarah!" She grabbed the tops of your arms, shaking you back and forth.

"Um." You pretend to pause in thought. "Not this weekend, we have that essay due in. But next weekend, count me in!"

Marie's face lit up with a large smile. "I'm so excited!" She linked arms with you, leading you away from the station. "There's this bar, they have themed cocktails every single week. They’re a tad expensive but soo strong so it's worth the money!"

She reminded you of Pen in a way, the happy go lucky attitude. The way she took you in like a stray, forcing you to go out for drinks. She brought a slither of normal in your facade, and well there was no stopping Reid from being, well Reid.

----

You had gotten the call that morning. They had found another body. It was a guy, Harry Jones. He sat in the middle of the class, he never spoke. He just sat with his friends and took notes whenever was necessary.

Penelope had managed to work out every victims average grades. They had all been in the top half of the class.

You were slumped in your chair, not listening to a thing Reid was saying. Your ears were tuned into the rows behind you, listening in for any mention of Harry's name. You could tell he was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot.

No one was talking about anything of note. Marie, Chloe and Sarah were talking about what they were going to wear to the bar later. The people a few rows behind were talking about what grade they thought they were going to get. Not a mention of Harry. No one realised he was gone.

You could tell Reid was profiling too, eyes constantly scanning the rows, talking on autopilot. Professor Gardener was long gone, you were looking at Reid. But it seemed he was coming up empty too.

"Right." He clapped, casually strolling over to the desk. Resting his hand atop the essays he had collected at the start of class and patted them gently. "Have a good weekend, no homework this week. See you on Wednesday!"

Marie linked arms with you once again, asking you what you were going to wear that night.

"Ivy!" His voice called as you got to the door.

"Hmm? Yes, Professor Gardener." You responded, leaning on the doorway.

"Could you come by my office later? I scanned your essay and there’s a couple points I think we could discuss in depth." He held up the paper, and Marie excuses herself. Lingering right outside.

"Sure, I'll swing by later." You run your finger across the paper on the door. "7pm?"

He nodded. "Sounds good."

Marie pretty much dragged you from the lecture hall. "You should so wear that dress you sent me a picture of." She giggled.

"I cannot wear that to my meeting with Professor Gardener." You deadpanned, hitting her lightly on the arm.

"I meant the bar. Your mind went there." She smiled, "But you should do that too, ugh I want him to go in depth with me." Groaning, she leant her head on your shoulder.

"Marie!" You exclaimed, jaw hanging open in shock. "You need to get laid girl, you should totally look for someone tonight."

"I was already planning on it." She smirked. "You better wear that dress."

----

You did wear the dress. The sparkly red fabric glittering as you snapped a picture for Penelope. It stopped at the top of your thighs, constantly pulling it down as your heels clicked on the pavement. It was too short, and had too much cleavage in your opinion, but it wasn't your opinion. It was Ivy's.

The halls were desolate and slightly chilly as you made your way to Reid's office. Well, Professor Wright's office. The golden plaque shined in the dim lighting. Checking over your shoulder, before you knocked on the door. You could hear shuffling behind the door before it swung open.

"Come in." He said, head sticking out of the door and looking down the hall.

"I wasn't followed." You rolled your eyes, your hand hitting his chest and kicking the door closed. Reaching behind you, clicking the lock shut you look around the office and step further in. "What do you want Reid?"

Standing across from him, hands resting on the back of the armchair opposite his desk. He looked up from the papers on his desk.

"What are you wearing?" It tumbled out of his mouth and his eyebrows scrunched together.

You matched his look of confusion. "A dress?" It wasn't like he hadn't seen you in a mini dress before. You always wore one when you went out with the team. Maybe not one this short or low cut, but a minidress nonetheless.

"Does Hotch know you're going out?" He asked, brows still furrowed.

"Yes, Professor Gardener." You snarked, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms across your chest.

He sucked in a breath, "I wanted to talk to you about your essay."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed, stalking around to the other side of the desk.

You leant across the desk, plucking out a red pen from the pot. Uncapping it and writing on your own paper. A. "There we go, now we don't have to talk about it."

"That's not-"

"Precise, correct, fair?" You laughed, straightening your back and you went to grab your handbag off of the table where you had dumped it.

But he snatched it out of your grasp, unzipping it and digging through it.

"What the fuck Reid?"

He held up the condoms that you had shoved into your bag. "Are you going to sleep with a college student?" His voice was coated with disdain.

"I don't think that's your business is it, Professor?" You lean forward, trying to snatch them out of his grip.

"As your Professor, no. But as your superior agent, it is." He moved backwards, stopping your waving grip. The smirk you had become acquainted with.

"I'm not going to fuck a college student. But I might just, if it pisses you off so much." You pouted in his face, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall in his face. "I know you're a virgin Reid but Jesus."

That caught him off guard, giving you the opportunity to snatch them back and slide them back into your handbag. "Maybe we won't even use these."

"I'm not a virgin." He gritted through his teeth, glaring at your bare back.

You can't help but laugh out loud at that, "I'll believe it when I see it." Your hair shakes with your head, striding towards the door.

The smell of him hits you before you feel him. Your hand stilled as it reached for the doorknob, the same scent that hit you when he stopped you from falling down the stairs. His grip on your bicep was familiar, the tips of his fingers digging in as his other hand brushed your hair to one side.

"You are insufferable." He whispered, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear.

It was like you had forgotten how to breathe. He was inching closer to you, the warmth of his chest radiating against your back. "Reid." You sighed.

"Professor." He corrected, spinning you around and pushing you against the door roughly. "If anyone gets to cum inside of you tonight, It's going to be me."

Your head thumped backwards, eyebrows pulling together as his eyes met yours. It was like you had lost all sense, you hated Reid. But the mention of him cumming inside you had any rational abandoned.

"Does that sound good?" He hummed.

"Yes, Professor Reid." You sighed.

"Fuck." He growled before pressing his lips into yours. Your hands came forward to grip onto the lapels on his blazer, pulling him closer. His lips were softer than you expected, contrasted with his teeth coming out to yank on your bottom lip.

Your bag dropped to the floor with a thud. As his hands, the hands you had spent countless lectures staring at, started to wander. Long fingers travelled down your back, pulling up goosebumps in their wake. Then, his hands scooped you up, legs wrapping around his hips as he pressed you into the door.

His hardness pushed into you, making you gasp out and slide your hands into his hair and giving it a light tug. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, walking you across the room and sliding the papers and pens off the desk. They hit the floor with a clatter as he lowered you down.

Both of you panted as he separated, a line of spit connecting you between your lips. Neither of you said anything for a beat, just staring at each other with blown pupils.

A second later, he cupped your jaw and pulled your back straight, kissing you again.

Now it was your turn for your hands to wander, slotting your hands under his blazer and pushing it off and it hit the floor gently. Then, your hands came to fiddle with the buckle on his belt. It clinked loudly as you whipped it out of the belt loops. The button popped open not long after.

He made work of your dress, pulling it up and letting it pool around your hips. Not even taking your panties off, just sliding them to the side as the pads of his fingers come into contact with your clit.

"Jesus!" You gasped out, pulling him closer with your ankle. Painted nails sliding down the front of his brown corduroy slacks and cupping his dick.

His eyes rake down you, dress pulled up, panties to the side. Eyes hooded, chest heaving desperately as you throw your head back.

"You look, divine." He whispered into your ear, the intimacy of it took you by surprise. His finger still worked against your clit, leaving you writhing and gasping under his gaze.

You shoved his slacks down, his white boxer shorts followed not long after. His compliment sent a fire through your veins and a desperation to have him inside you take over.

His fingers pulled off of you, your whining halted. "Hurry up and fuck me!" You groaned, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your heel dug into his backside and it fell to the floor.

He took his dick in his hand, looking down at you. The tip hit against your clit and he slid it up and down through your wetness. "Ah, ah, ah." He teased, refusing to push in, just leaving you with the delicious pressure of almost. "Say please."

"Oh, fuck off." You sigh, trying anything to get closer. Just anything to get him inside you.

He pulled his dick away, and it was like your brain had melted any rationality away. "Please, Reid." You pleaded, knuckles turning white at how hard you were gripping the edge of his desk. "Professor, please." You looked up at him through your lashes.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. He pressed his forehead to yours just as he sank into you. He was bigger than you thought he'd be. Not that you'd thought about it. The head brushed past your g spot as he bottomed out.

You couldn't help the almost scream that came from you. "Spencer!"

You had never called him Spencer, most of the time you didn't even address him. But any worry left your mind after hearing his groan as he pulled most of the way out, before slamming into you again.

His lips attached to your neck and your toes curled inside your heels. "No marks." You panted out.

Nodding into the crook of your neck, he slid his hands under you. He lifted you slightly, the new angle letting him pound deeper inside you. This lead to a string of moans to explode from your chest and his hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He wasn't doing a good job of keeping quiet himself. Panting and groaning into your neck, teeth scratching your earlobe. Your hands screwed into the front of his shirt, whining helplessly at the brutal pace he was fucking you with.

"S-spencer." You both fall backwards, your back flat on the cool wooden desk and him hunched over you never faltering.

"You're much more bearable like this." He smirked down at you, reviling in the state he had you in. A fucked out pink flush painted across your cheeks, tits bouncing with every thrust that coaxed a wet noise from your pussy every time he slapped against it.

You tried to form a rebuttal, but what came out was babbling that vaugly sounded like hsi name. Desperately, pulling him closer with your nails scratching down his back.

"Awh, poor baby." He teased, "Can't you speak?"

The mocking had your head reeling and your walls clenching around him. The teasing, his body pressing you into the desk, the unrelenting pace and the smell of him was all just too much. It had the coil inside you ready to snap.

Your eyes meet his again and you slam your mouth to his. Tongue peeking into your mouth as your thighs started to tremble. You had your toes curled so hard that your heels slid off your feet and falling to the floor. Spencer's hand snaked down and hit your clit again, moving the wetness around with his fingers.

It had lightening bolts shooting through your spine and the coil in your belly to snap. Nails digging into his shoulder blades and a too loud cry of his name. "Spencer!" It almost echoed around the room as he fucked you through your orgasm, leaving you tightening and fluttering around his cock.

Then, he was cumming himself, with a similar groan of your name and a few more deep thrusts that sent your eyes rolling. His release was warm inside of you, he paused for a second. Letting it pool inside of you and leaving you both breathing into each others mouth's. His dick slid out of you, pussy clenching around emptiness. Gently, he moved your underwear back with a tenderness you wouldn't have expected.

Suddenly, the feeling of his cum pooling in your panties, had you hurtling back to reality. It was like a cool bucket of water had been thrown over you.

It was Reid. You and Reid had sex. Not even sex, fucked. He was technically your professor. And you had his cum dripping out of you.

You yanked your dress down, refusing to look him in the eye.

"That can't happen again." He called over his shoulder as you grabbed your bag. Piling the lip gloss that had spilled all over the floor when it had fallen from your fingers.

"I know." You commented, clicking the lock open and the door.

"Be careful, and you can call me if you need me to come and get you." He gave you that tight lipped smile he did when he felt awkward.

"Will do." You mirrored his face, your hair falling in front of your face and closing the door with a soft click.

Your dress was missing sparkles from all over and you had six missed calls from Marie, and you took off into the city.

----

The bar was exactly as Marie had described. It was slightly tacky with bright coloured lights with ocean themed drinks. Everyone was walking around with blue drinks with fish shaped ice cubes, sharks sticking from the top.

"Ivy!" Marie called, waving you over from the booth they had grabbed in the corner.

"Hey." You smiled and sidled into the booth next to Sarah.

"What did Professor Gardener want?" Sarah asked, close to your ear, cutting through the thumping pop music.

"Apparently, I did really well on my essay. There was just a couple mistakes he wanted me to clear up for next time." You smiled, casting a look towards the bar. "I'm going to go and get a drink! I'll be back."

The drink was overly sweet, Penelope would have loved it. The grenadine turned the blue drink a light purple.

"So tell us what mark you got, you can't leave us hanging girl." Marie grasped onto your arm. "Also what happened with Professor Gardenerrr?" She teased lightly and Chloe smacked her on the arm.

"I got a 97." You feigned a blush, hiding you face behind your hair.

Marie and Chloe gasped, excitedly shaking you back and forth. Some of your drink sloshing over the rim and making the bar table more sticky than it already was.

"You're going to get the credits that you need toats, oh my god we need to throw you a graduation party." She praised, her face lit up in the same way you had seen it so many times.

Just as you went to agree, head already nodding.

"Ivy, that guy over there is so looking at you." Sarah cut across, pointing a finger across the bar.

Your eyes followed her finger to find a very smiley Derek Morgan. You smile back at him with a small wave.

"Well go talk to him! He's so hot!" Chloe exclaimed, "Plus you deserve it after such a good essay."

Your eyes darted between them and him, pretending to give a moment of deliberation. Before standing up and glancing over your shoulder. "If he's weird, I'm coming back."

Winding your way through the crowded bar, smoothly directing yourself between sweaty bodies until you got to the booth. You slid up next to Morgan, your side pressing up against his.

"This dress is a gift from Penelope I assume." He whispered into your ear and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"How could you tell?" You said back, looking back to the table of girls looking towards you expectantly. Sticking your thumb up towards them, you turn towards Derek fully.

"Have you been dancing with someone else babybird?" He asked, still leaned in close.

"No, why?" You scrunched your eyebrows.

"You smell like another man."

It felt like your stomach dropped to your feet, and you hoped and prayed that he wouldn't recognise the scent. Suddenly, it was like you could feel the cum that was wetting your panties through. The shame burned bright on your cheeks.

"Yikes, I need to get rid of my perfume." Joking, you elbowed him, "Go for a smoke?" You pulled the packet out of your purse and waved it in his face.

As the two of you stepped out of the bar you sent Marie a message. 'Going home with hot stuff, see you wednesday. ;)'

The cool air hit and was very, very welcome. Bricks pressed into your back and you let out a long, deep sigh. Lighting up the cigarette and holding it towards Derek.

"I don't smoke." He smiled, watching you puff out smoke.

"One of the girls I was with, Sarah. Get Pen to look into her, she was acting weird about my meeting with Reid." You throw a look over your shoulder and see Marie and the girls looking at you expectantly. "I think we're being watched." You murmured, leaning close to Derek's ear.

His muscles flexed under your trailing grip. "Want to get out of here?"

"Yeah." You nod, throwing a sheepish glance over your shoulder and a small wave to the girls who definitely weren't looking through the window.

Turning the corner there was a familiar squad car waiting for you.

----

Again, you spent your weekend hunched over a conference table. Files piled up around your head. The team had gone all in on Sarah, and the deeper you dug, the more she looked like your unsub.

"Her grades have been steadily dropping for the last few semesters." Emily commented, putting another file in the completed bin.

"Ah-Ha!" Penelope exclaimed, her face popping up on the monitor. "Recently, Sarah's adoptive Mom died. It didn't come up in the original searches because she wasn't offically adopted. The papers never went through."

"So we've got our stressor." Hotch nodded, his arms crossed tensely in the corner of the room. "Reid, have you noticed anything during class?"

As he started talking, you realised you hadn't looked over once. It was like he wasn't even there. "She seemed pretty normal until I read through the essay she handed in. Her critique of the ethics I set was neither for or against. But was more arguing that murder isn't entirely immoral." He explained, taking a sip from his coffee before continuing.

"Her argument was that neither lying or committing the murder is immoral. As both have their own moral explanations." He continued.

"Like lying to the murderer, or killing in self defence." You said without thought, his brown eyes meeting yours. Gaze dropped to your swirling cup of coffee, there was no escape from reminders of him.

"Wow babybird, they'll make a philosopher of you yet." Emily smiled, JJ giggled. "But what's the plan to get her to act again."

Rossi started to plan, "Release the grades publicly, put a select few people at the top of the list. We put an agent on everyone on the top of the list."

"She already thinks babybird has done well. So we stick her in a college dorm and wait. Also." He paused, looking between you and Reid. "If we were to drum up some rumours." He clicked his tongue, holding back a smirk.

Penelope squealed through the screen, "Are you telling me the garden is going to grow some ivy?" Her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.

"What?" Reid asked, confused.

"Only if the two of you are comfortable." Hotch said at the same time and you sank deeper into the chair. Face burning as bright as a christmas light.

"Oh God." You groaned, head in your hands. Peeking through your fingers at Reid's face paling after JJ had kindly explained it into his ear. Finally, you made real eye contact for the first time all morning.

"We'll do it." He confirmed with a nod, and you a slightly less sure one.

"Oh my God!" Penelope cried, "It's like a cringe romcom. You should wear that mini skirt!"

"Garcia." Hotch warned, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Your eyes still locked together, you had to remind you it was for a case. All of it was for a case. No matter how fast your heart was beating. None of it was real.

----

The mini skirt was worn. Pleats brushing the tops of your thighs, falling right at the curve of your ass. The shirt you were wearing had one too many buttons undone.

Class hadn't started, it was just you and Reid in your meticulously planned play. Standing at his desk with your open, empty notebook. The bend of your back too salacious for just a teacher and student. His warmth radiated on your back as his arm reached around you, finger running down the blank page. You swore you could feel him starting to grow against your ass. Goosebumps pulled up on your skin, it wasn't real. It was a waiting game and you were begging for someone to catch you.

And someone did. Marie, Chloe and Sarah came bustling in. They paused in the doorway as the two of you jumped apart in fake shock.

"Um, thank you." You stuttered shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Eyes planted firmly at your shoes, toes tapping on the floor and making your way to your front row seat.

Marie scrambled to your side, dragging you down into the seat as everyone else made their way in. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you mean." Your voice ticked up, eyes raking him up and down.

"Mhm." She hummed, eyebrow raised.

You weren't listening to anything he was saying. Shamelessly, eye fucking him as he explained things to the class. Lip bitten in between your teeth and tongue wetting your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, the three of them couldn't help but glance over.

He was just as intense back, every wave of his hands sending you back to having your brain fucked out on his desk. The lines were blurring between Ivy and Gardener and you and Reid. And you weren't sure if you minded.

Then, your pen rolled off the wooden desk, clattering to the ground and silencing his rambling. Halting teaching, striding towards your desk. When he crouched, your legs uncrossed. Revealing the damp spot that was ever present on your panties.

It sent him stuttering, "Y-your pen... Ivy."

"Thank you, Professor." The pen made home in between your lips, looking up at him through your lashes. Ivy had disappeared, it felt like it was just you and Reid in the room. Everyone else melted away.

He spent the rest of the lecture, glancing over to you every few seconds. Wiping sweaty palms down the front of his pants. "Alright!" He concluded, "I think that's enough for today. Oh! But before you go. Your essays, I'll hand them out."

He travelled back to front. Telling polite good jobs, or this needs improvements. Until, he got to the front row. Chloe and Marie got a good job, a kind nod, that left them smiling at their marks.

But then came Sarah, he slid the paper across the desk upside down with a tight smile on his face. And then you, a huge smile on his face, hand reaching out to your shoulder. It wasn't real.

"See me after class." His thumb brushed a strand of hair from your shoulder, before turning to the rest of the class. "Alright! See you next week!"

Hanging around, you waved goodbye to Marie and Chloe. Sarah had disappeared quickly, throwing a look you couldn't quite read over her shoulder before turning the corner.

The door slammed close, but the tight air didn't diffuse. You drifted to the other side, leaning on your desk. You could hear him breathing, hands gripping the desk, back hunched over. The lines had blurred, it wasn't Ivy's underwear that were soaked through. It was yours.

"Reid-" You started, his name coming out more like an awkward squeak.

"Spencer." He cut you off, voice gruff and he finally straightened up. His brown leather shoes, clicked on the tiled floor. A slow, echoing rhythm that made you look up from your swinging feet.

"Look, I'm sorry." You sighed, looking everywhere but his face. "I took it too far." Mouth claggy, hands sweaty.

"Hmm," He hummed, hand darting out and gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. "Are you sorry? The state of your panties says otherwise."

His fingers lingered at the crook of your knee. Softly, dragging up your thigh but stopping right before they could hit exactly where you wanted.

You whined, a high pitched, pathetic noise. "Spencer."

The look in his eyes lit you on fire. Tilting your head up, short breaths puffing from your lips. "Please."

His lips pressed against yours, tilting your neck up to meet his mouth. You groaned into his mouth, the noise silenced by his tongue dipping into your mouth. One hand brushed over your underwear, pressing into your clit lightly, the other gripped into your waist. Bringing you to the edge of the desk, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. At his mercy.

It was torture, the feather light touches giving you only a second of relief. He was smirking, the slight stubble that had grown in scratching at your chin.

At your wits end, you bite into his bottom lip. Teeth sinking into the skin and pulling back lightly. The two of you breathing in the others mouth, minty remnants coat your tongue.

"I swear to God Reid." You panted, hips bucking upwards into his fingers, "You are driving me crazy."

"I'm driving you crazy?" He scoffed, "You came in, wearing that tiny skirt. Basically bent over in front of me, then flashed me your wet panties, all while I was teaching." His tongue darted out, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat.

"Hotch's orders." You gasp, hand digging into his ragged curls and tugged him backwards.

He laughed, a mocking ring. "Oh I'm sure, I bet he told you to spread your legs for me. I wonder what he would say if I reported back? Huh babybird?"

The nickname out of his mouth had your head reeling, a complete opposite to the usual softness that came from Derek or Emily.

"I wonder what he would say, if I told him one of his best agents crumbled at the sight of me in a mini dress?" You shot back, hand cupping his now fully hard dick.

Finally, he pulled your panties down your legs. And slid them into his back pocket, his fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck Spencer!" You cried out, now fumbling at his belt. Clammy hands struggling with the buckle, arms falling weak as Spencer's fingers started to thrust in and out of you. A punishing pace, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Every press of his fingers had a loud squelch bouncing around the lecture hall. Twitching his fingers upwards, brushing your g spot and laughing at your body falling limp. You used him as a support beam, slumped over in pleasure. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair.

"Feel good baby?" He asked, voice turning soft.

"Mhm." You hummed, his fingers turning your brain to mush. "Close." You sighed into his chest.

"Good girl." He smiled, soft kisses peppered along the crook of your neck and collarbone.

The kind praise coming from Spencer of all people, had you hurling over the edge. Toes curling and hands desperately digging into his shoulder blades. Your thighs shook, clamping around his wrist tightly.

"Fucking hell." You sighed, breath warm on his ear as you pulled him into a soft kiss. It left your heart racing, almost exploding out of your chest.

You were holding on to him like a lifeline, he was holding onto you in a similar vein. His belt buckle clinked, pants pooling at his knees, before sliding into your warmth.

Still sensitive from a moment ago, your lips dug into your lip as he began to gently thrust. It was tender, a gentle rocking in and out. Soft strokes pulling through your hair. Smooth hands trailing up your spine.

It was almost too much. Too different. He wasn't being condescending, there was no mocking. Just sweet cooing in your ear that made you clench around him. Incoherent babbling of his name fell from your lips.

Then, he whispered your name. A gentle, soft noise that had you cumming around him. Stars bloomed behind your eye as you came, a whimpering moan falling from your lips.

He followed not long after you, pressing his forehead to yours. Chanting your name over and over, he released inside of you. A curl fell, sticking to him. He looked charming, you thought. Leaning down, he kissed you again, slow and languid.

It all felt too real.

"Um." You started, looking up at him. Pink cheeks and a shy smile, "Thank you."

"And thank you." He said, as he moved a fallen strand of hair away from your eyes.

"Can I have my panties back?" You bit your lip.

For a second, you just stared at him. Playing with your fingers, you started to giggle, and so did he. The laughter was infectious, everything was light. It was foreign, you weren't going at each others throats. There was no snarky comments, no corrections.

"Sure." He was smiling, not the smile he did when he was being polite. But the one when Penelope let him ramble about doctor who, or when JJ surprised him with a chocolate covered sprinkled doughnut.

He handed them to you, cool to the touch where they were still damp. There was a pool where his cum had dripped out of you. The desk under you, covered in him.

Shimmying them up your legs, more of him dripped out of you. You grimaced and he smirked.

"Shut up." You grumped, pouting slightly.

Suddenly, there was a rush of people outside of the hall. Another class period had ended. Had you really been in there that long?

"Right."

"Right." He echoed.

"I better head off, time to lure a murderer to my fake apartment." You joked, he didn't laugh. "Kidding."

Turning, you packed your bag and jogged up the stairs, hoping that he couldn't see the huge wet spot on your underwear. You'd never hear the end of it.

"Be careful." He called when you reached the last step with his hands in his pockets rocking back on his heels.

"I will."

----

Sometimes, you wished unsubs were less predictable. You had spotted Sarah two blocks away, she lurked around corners, hid behind signs and she thought the hat she had on was hiding her face.

As soon as you'd seen her, you messaged Hotch. By the time you reached the apartment block you'd seen three squad cars. The front entrance was propped open so she could follow you right on in.

And she did. Apartment 6B was on the third floor. When you got to the second the front entrance slammed closed. She was not far behind you now.

Anyone with eyes could tell no one lived in apartment 6B, it was bland as anything. The walls were stark white, all the furniture was drab grey. There was nothing personal at all. No photos on the walls, no trinkets sprawled on every surface.

You had left the door unlocked behind you, and dumped your bag on the boring, rough couch. Walking to the kitchen, you slid open the door by the sink. Your gun sat inside, exactly where Derek had left it. Him and JJ were in your 'bedroom', waiting for the signal.

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" You called, sliding your gun into the waistband of your skirt and made your way to the door. "Sarah!" You gasped, then tilted your head, taking a pause. "How... do you know where I live?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"You bitch!" She growled, immediately jumping at you. A knife that she had hidden behind her back at the ready. Now, that was an escalation.

Your hand gripped her forearm, trying to wrangle the knife from her grasp. The two of you crashed into the wall, the tip of the knife scratched against your shoulder. Dark blood stained your shirt.

"Sarah put the knife down." You pleaded, the air puffing out of your lungs as you fell to the floor. The coffee table's legs crashing under your back.

"You're a no good slut." Sarah lifted the knife, ready to strike down upon you. Derek and JJ came running out of the bedroom, guns drawn and shouting.

"FBI! Put the knife down!" Derek barked, moving in on her.

The crazed look in her eyes told you she wasn't going to relent. Scrambling back, you swept her legs out from under her. Her ribs crashed into your legs and the knife fell from her grip. It sliced your calf, the blood running down and turning your white sock red.

They moved in, yanking her off of your legs and pulling her arms behind her. Cuffs clinked as he read her, her rights. JJ rushed to your side, kneeling beside you.

"Are you ok?" She flustered, hand grasping onto your uninjured shoulder.

"I'm fine." You nodded, smoothing down your skirt. You hissed when her finger prodded at your leg. "Ow!"

She laughed lightly, "Cmon, there's an ambulance outside." She helped you up, supporting you as you hobbled down the staircase and out onto the street.

You get forced into the back of an ambulance, Hotch stood guard at the door. The paramedics started to pepper you with questions.

"Did you hit your head?" She shined a torch in your eyes, checking for signs of a concussion.

"No," You shake your head. "Just the slashes." You confirmed and slid your shirt off of your shoulder.

"Alright, you'll need a couple stitches in each one. We can do it here." She explained, starting to stitch you up. "You'll need to take it easy for a couple of weeks." She said, with a pointed glance towards Hotch.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, legs swinging as they processed Sarah.

"Hey." Spencer said, sitting down next to you. "I heard you got quite roughed up."

"I'm ok." You smiled, head resting on the side of the ambulance.

"Uh, I got you something." He coughed, rummaging around in his pocket and pulled out a red lollipop. "The sugar will be good for keeping your energy up after losing blood. It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff."

"It tricks your brain into thinking you're fine. Endorphins and stuff." You said at the same time, holding back a laugh at his face. "You said the same to Em when she got grazed two months ago."

"Do you memorise everything I say?" He smirked.

"Well if I didn't how could I be precise? Professor Reid." You batted your eyelashes at him.

"Don't." He warned with a finger waved in your face, clambering up from the back of the ambulance when he saw Emily walking your way. He gave a wave before heading over to the rest of the team.

Unwrapping the treat with a loud crinkle, you called out. "Spencer!"

He turned and raised his brows.

"Thank you!" Popping it into your mouth, as Emily sat down next to you.

"Since when do you call him Spencer?" She asked, eyes darting between you.

"Recent development." You shrugged, trying not to stare.

"We told you, you just needed to fuck it out." She smiled, bumping your good shoulder with hers. "Was it the dress? Cuz I'd so do you in that."

"Shut up." You grumbled, cheeks heating up. Going even more red as you locked eyes with Spencer.

"Babybird and pretty boy sittin in a tree." She whispered in your ear, then doubled over laughing after you jabbed your elbow into her ribs.

----

From his spot at the small dining table that doubled as his makeshift home office, Hotch slowly lifted his head, pushing his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. Hotch was fresh out of the academy and already working with the BAU at the FBI, and it showed in the way he always had confidential files lying around the dinner table or his nightstand.

In some way, you were jealous of the fact that he never had to take another class again, but then again, he was still studying all the time, so his situations didn’t look much different from when you had met in his last year of university before he joined the academy. Only now, his textbooks had been switched out for old casefiles.

His white button-down was still on from the office, sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows, exposing his corded forearms. His tie hung loose around his neck, and several thick folders of old case files were spread out in front of him. A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside a yellow legal pad covered in his slanted handwriting.

He set his pen down and leaned back in the chair, studying you with that measured gaze he had adopted over the past couple of months, equal parts profiler and equal parts concerned boyfriend.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked, his deep voice steady and dry, carrying that signature dryness you’d come to love over the years. “Or is this one of those moments where you’re being dramatic, and I should just put on a fresh pot of coffee and wait for you to scream into your pillow?”

You shot him a withering look as you stalked into the tiny kitchen area, yanking open the cabinet for a glass. “It’s justified, Aaron. Very justified! This wasn’t just me being sensitive. My professor was being a jerk!”

He raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, the closest thing to a smirk you’d get from him on a normal day. “Alright. Come sit down and walk me through it.”

You filled your glass with water, took a long sip, and then launched into the story, pacing back and forth between the kitchen and the table as the frustration poured out of you.

“So Professor Langford was lecturing today on cultural competence in social work practice. He posed this question: ‘Can anyone share an example of currently working with or observing people from a culture different from their own?’ I raised my hand because I actually have real-world experience. I told him about Maria, she’s this incredible woman from El Salvador who works the same waitressing shifts as me at the diner. I explained how her approach to customer service is so different from the standard American style I grew up with. She’s warmer, more relational. She remembers regulars’ names and little personal details, asks about their kids, their jobs. She’ll lightly touch someone’s arm when laughing at a joke or offering comfort. It creates this genuine connection. People stay longer, tip better, and actually seem happier when she serves them. I thought it was a solid, practical example of cultural differences in communication and service styles.”

Your voice grew more animated… and more irritated, as you continued.

“The professor let a couple of other students share their experiences. Then he started going through each example, giving feedback and tying them back to the textbook readings. Everyone else got positive reinforcement like ‘excellent point,’ ‘great real-world application,’ even little personal anecdotes from his own fieldwork. But when he got to mine…” You let out a bitter laugh. “He singled it out. He said, ‘While that’s an interesting observation, it’s important to be careful not to conflate individual personality traits with broader cultural norms. What you’re describing might simply be Maria’s personal warmth rather than a clear cultural distinction.’ He basically implied that my example wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t understand the difference between culture and personality. The whole class was staring at me. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole in a pit of fire.”

You set the glass down harder than you meant to, the sound sharp in the quiet apartment. “I felt so stupid. Like I’d stuck my neck out for nothing.”

Hotch had listened without interrupting, his eyes fixed on you the entire time, absorbing every detail the way he was trained to do. When you finally fell silent, he remained quiet for a long moment, fingers tapping once against the table as his analytical mind worked.

Then he pushed his chair back slightly and held out his hand. “Come here.”

You hesitated, still vibrating with leftover embarrassment and annoyance, but eventually crossed the room. Hotch gently pulled you down onto his lap, wrapping one arm securely around your waist while his other hand came to rest on your thigh. The solid warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne helped ease some of the tension in your shoulders.

“I’m sorry that happened,” he said. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back. “Being corrected in front of your peers stings.”

You nodded, leaning into his chest, grateful for the comfort.

“But,” he continued carefully, his tone shifting into that rational register you hated, because he was usually right, and you did not need him to be right, right now, “I want you to consider something. Do you think it’s possible the professor wasn’t trying to single you out maliciously, but rather push the class toward more precise academic distinctions?”

You pulled back enough to look at him, eyes narrowing. “You think I was wrong?”

Hotch shook his head immediately, knowing that however he phrased his next words could either land him on the couch for the night or make you agree with his point. “No. I’m not saying your example was invalid. From what you described, Maria’s style does reflect common cultural tendencies in Latin American service interactions. They are legitimate observations.”

He paused. “However… professors in these fields can be pedantic. He might have been trying to highlight the importance of not essentializing culture. In academia, especially social work and psychology, they hammer that distinction hard. It’s possible he saw your example as leaning too heavily on one person’s behavior without additional evidence or sources to back up the cultural link. That doesn’t mean your contribution was worthless. It just means he wanted the discussion to go deeper.”

You stared at him, a fresh wave of frustration bubbling up. “So you do think I was being dramatic.”

Hotch exhaled softly. “A little,” he admitted honestly, though his voice remained kind. “You’re passionate, and you feel things deeply. It’s one of the things I love about you. But sometimes that passion makes the sting of criticism feel bigger than it actually is.”

He cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing lightly over your skin. His gaze softened, the profiler mask slipping away to reveal the young man who was still very much in love with you despite having seen a few too many brutal crime scene photos already.

“Look, I’ve been there. More times than I can count. Last month, I presented a preliminary profile on a case, and Agent Rossi ripped it apart in front of the entire team. He called my conclusions ‘naive’ and ‘underdeveloped.’ I wanted to disappear. Spent the whole drive home convinced I wasn’t cut out for this work. But the next day I went back, revised it using his feedback, and it ended up helping break a key lead.”

Hotch tilted his head, meeting your eyes. “Your voice matters in that classroom. One professor’s nitpicking doesn’t diminish the value of your real-life experiences. You’re balancing full-time college with night shifts at a diner to get you through with as little debt as possible. That’s more practical insight than most of your classmates have. Don’t let one bad moment make you shrink back into silence. The field needs people like you, people who actually see the humans behind the theories.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, fiddling with the loosened knot of his tie. His logical breakdown had punctured some of your righteous anger, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet.

“I just hate feeling like I put myself out there and immediately got told it wasn’t good enough,” you whispered.

“I know,” Hotch murmured, pressing a lingering kiss against your temple. “And I’m sorry it felt that way. Your feelings are valid. But I also don’t want you carrying this frustration around all night, letting it convince you to hide in class. You’re too good and too smart for that.”

He shifted you more comfortably on his lap, wrapping both arms around you now in a full embrace. “How about this? Next time, you frame your examples with a quick tie-in to the assigned reading. Something like, ‘This aligns with Hofstede’s collectivism dimension…’ That way, even the most pedantic professor has less room to dismiss it.”

You let out a watery laugh against his neck, not sure how he knew who Hofstede was, because you were damn sure that they didn’t teach his theories in law school, maybe not even in the academy. “Are you seriously giving me debate strategy right now, Agent Hotchner?”

“Always,” he replied. “I’m on your side. Even when I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

You swatted his chest lightly, but there was no real heat behind it. The tension had mostly drained away, replaced by a warm and tired fondness.

“Thank you for listening,” you mumbled. “Even if your profiler brain immediately went into ‘let me rationalize the situation’ mode.”

Hotch chuckled softly. “It’s an occupational hazard. But I promise I’m always in your corner.”

He held you there for a while longer, as the apartment filled with a comfortable silence broken only by the distant hum of beeping cars and people moving about their lives outside.

Eventually, he kissed the top of your head and murmured, “Now! Are we ordering takeout, or should I attempt to cook something while you tell me more about Maria’s legendary customer service techniques?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Takeout. And maybe… I’ll think about speaking up again. Eventually.”

“That’s my girl!”