imagines and one shots about everyone's favorite genius!
instructions for requests found in first chapter :)
these imagines are my own ideas, so please respect that. if they're inspired by something, it will be indicated in the opening.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐫 in which he's fallen for you and your son.
REQUESTED BY @multiatom
word count: 2,164
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
You stumbled into the bullpen, questioning the quality of your appearance. Last night, you were up for hours tending to your sick son, Mikey. He was only two years old, so your anxiety levels were through the roof while you called various doctors to try and get an explanation for his cough and fever. You wanted more than anything to take off of work, but you never knew when a case would arise. So, you secured your mother as a sitter and dragged yourself to the B.A.U. bright and early.
You found refuge at your desk, practically falling into your spinning chair while you dropped your go bag by your side. Letting out a big sigh, you threw your head back to, as you viewed it, "rest your eyes." But, just as you almost drifted off into an microsleep, someone's jovial tone interrupted you. "Hi, [y/n]!"
Your eyes ripped open as you rolled your head up. Getting settled in at the desk across from you was Spencer Reid, eagerly organizing his pens and pencils. His eyes trickled between you and his task at hand, signature frog-like smile on his lips. "Hey, Spence," you mumbled, leaning your elbows on your desk.
"How was your morning?" he politely asked, copying your gesture.
You admired his pleasant demeanor that early in the day, but you were too exhausted to appreciate it. "Dreary," you responded honestly. "Mikey is sick, and I was up all night worrying about him. Probably slept for an hour max."
Spencer frowned. "You shouldn't have come in! Hotch wouldn't have minded."
You shrugged. "We have cases to solve. I just have to get used to this. It's fine."
You had joined the B.A.U. six months ago. It was always your dream to become a profiler, but when you found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your plans got put on hold. When you turned twenty-two, you knew you couldn't keep putting off your professional goals. With some encouragement from family and friends, you entered the academy and were later accepted as a profiler at the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. You knew it would be a tiresome job as a single mother with a young child, but you owed it to your son to be a role model. However, it were days like these that made you question if solely motherhood was your true calling.
Spencer looked as though he was going to offer some words of encouragement, but he stopped himself when the door to Aaron Hotchner's office busted open. The Unit Chief came stomping out, headed in the direction of the round room. "Everyone," he announced, voice loud enough to catch every agent's attention, "we have a case."
