Criminal Minds Imagines

pretty boy - spencer reid

"Hey, pretty boy," Morgan called from across the bullpen, "wanna come with us to Milo's tonight? I think you could use a night out."

You chuckled quietly at Morgan's teasing, glancing up at Spencer. The nickname suited the boy genius well. He was, indeed, very pretty.

He was dressed in a blue striped button down, black pants, a black and white tie, and a black cardigan with a white stripe along the edges. He had just recently started wearing these vintage looking glasses which, in your opinion, made every outfit of his look ten times hotter. His clothes always reflected his intelligence, giving off almost a professor vibe that drove you crazy. It seemed like everything he own fit him perfectly, like it was made for him.

"Y/N?" Spencer's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were going tonight, and you were just staring at me," he chuckled.

"I think you have a little drool right there, Y/N," Prentiss teased, pointing to your chin.

"Har har har, very funny," you rolled your eyes, your cheeks heating up, "yeah, I'm going."

"Then yeah, I'll go," he responded to Morgan's earlier question.

Why did was he agreeing to go only if you were going? A spark of hope ignited in your chest, thinking maybe, possibly, he felt the same way you did. Which meant you were going all out tonight.

You went home and changed into your favorite dress, a slick, satin, spaghetti strap black dress that hugged your body in all the right places and stopped mid thigh. You freshened up your makeup, darkening your eyeshadow and adding some red lipstick, before styling your hair. Once you were satisfied with your appearance, you slipped on your slick black pumps and completed the look with your favorite necklace and sparkly earrings.

A spritz of perfume later and you were walking out the door, keys and clutch in hand. You arrived at the club, making your way through the crowd and spotting your friends at a round booth in the back.

"Dang, babygirl," Morgan whistled, his eyes taking in your appearance appreciatively.

You rolled your eyes at him, "Hello Derek, I'm doing well, thanks for asking."

He chuckled, along with the others, when they all fell silent. They all stared with wide eyes at something obviously behind you. You felt a hand press against the small of your back just before you could turn to see what they were looking at. When you did turn to see who's hand was on you, it became obvious.

"Spencer," you whispered in awe, taking in the sight before you.

He was dressed in a thin white button up, the first two buttons undone, tucked into some deliciously fitted black pants, and complete with a black sport coat and black dress shoes. His hair was washed clean, free from its usual gel, and curled beautifully, still slightly damp. You could smell his shampoo from how close he was standing, filling your senses with mint mixed with the woodsy, spice scent of his cologne. You felt dizzy with it.

"Hey," he smiled brightly, ignoring the others looks and speaking directly to you, "y-you look absolutely stunning."

The familiar smile and signature stutter reassured you that this was, indeed, Spencer, but definitely an upgraded version.

"And you," you raked your eyes over his frame, not caring how obviously you were checking him out, "you look gorgeous, pretty boy."

The nickname, which was normally only coming from Morgan, seemed to effect him in a whole different way coming from you. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes, at a loss for words.