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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

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In This Diary | S.R

Summary - The summer of ‘02 was supposed to be just like any summer that had come before. Spencer Reid was mostly hoping to relax before his started his new job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the fall. But best laid plans often go awry.

Now all these years later he’s come into possession of the diary he kept during that time and he’s forced on a trip down memory lane to a perfect Las Vegas summer in which he fell in love for the very first time. But if he’s not careful, he might allow himself to get so lost in his nostalgia he may not be able to drag himself back to the present.

A/N - this goes back and forth a lot in time, I hope it makes sense. Where there’s a page break it goes back to the present day. Based on the song In This Diary by The Ataris. Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge. Thank you again @pinkiceee-prose and @andiebeaword for reading over this 🖤

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst with happy ending | strangers to friends to lovers | smut minors DNI

Warnings - post prison, pot smoking, virgin Spencer, slight sub! Spencer, use of “good boy”, mild praise kink (Spencer), handjob, swearing, fingering, masturbation (m), brief mention of medication but no specifics, talk of PTSS, angst, allusions to sex, brief mention of protected sex, oral (m receiving), brief mention of past addiction and Emily’s “death”.

WC - 10.3k honestly I can’t write anything short

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…

The dogeared, weathered pages told their age beneath his fingertips, speaking their tales through skin. Smudged ink seeped through the yellowing paper, penned words of a different time etched to hold their memory.

His fingers danced across them as though reading braille, trying to feel the words the way he had when he'd written them. So much time had passed, so much had changed, this book felt like it was from a different lifetime.

If he closed his eyes he could feel himself there. He could feel the way the hot Vegas sun beat down on him, causing little beads of sweat to roll down his face, feeling it tightening his skin. He could sense the pen in his hand as he scrawled down his thoughts, committing them to these pages.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

He could feel the gravel beneath him, hear the occasional passing vehicle on the freeway whilst hanging out at truck stops just to pass the time.

He could see fireworks illuminating the sky in desolate parking lots, hear their crackle and bang as they exploded and then disappeared.

He could hear the thrum of the eighties songs through tinny speakers, even if he never really enjoyed them. He could feel the droplets of water on his frazzled skin from the splash back of a body diving into the hotel pool which was not strictly open to the public.

It was another life, one he’d long ago left behind but still carried pieces of it with him.

I guess when it comes down to it, being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up…

“Whatcha got there?”

A voice snapped him out of his nostalgia and he quickly closed the old book and looked up from his desk. He blinked a few times to try and bring himself back to the present, back from memory lane which he’d started to get lost down.

Spencer Reid was not known to be a sentimental man, in all honesty he had few good memories from his past to be wistful over. And now was not the time to start.

Luke had an amused smirk on his lips as he looked down at the younger man and the old, tattered journal on his desk.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” Spencer swallowed with a shake of his head.

“Looked like a diary.” Luke’s smile grew, his intense dark eyes full of mirth. “I saw a date in the corner? August twenty ninth two thousand and two. You'd have been…”

“Twenty two. I was twenty two. The summer before I joined the BAU.” He sighed as he spoke, not thrilled to be sharing this part of his life with Luke.

It was unfounded, given that it was probably the happiest time of his life. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want his friends to know about it.

There was something about keeping the memory pure, not having it sullied by outsiders. That secret summer belonged only to the two people who had lived it.

“I didn't peg you for a journaler.” Luke shrugged.

“I’m not usually. I don’t really know why I kept a diary that summer.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He’d kept a record of those days in case, for whatever reason, his memory failed him. If something happened to cause his brain to forget, that was one time in his life he wanted to ensure he’d never lose.

And since his mothers diagnosis, it was an entirely real possibility that one day he may forget. There were many moments in his life he’d like to be able to neglect, his drug addiction, Gideon’s death, prison; but the summer of ‘02 was not one of them.

In truth he’d forgotten all about the journal. It wasn’t until his mothers move to DC when he’d been going through old boxes of her stuff that he’d found it.

“Can I read it?” Luke’s smile turned cheeky, he already knew what the answer would be but he was just trying his luck.

As expected, Spencer scowled, grabbing the diary and holding it close to his chest as if he believed Luke might try to snatch it from his desk.

“Absolutely not.” He wrapped it tightly against his body.

“Ooh there’s some juicy stuff in there.” Luke chuckled.

“Don’t be crude.” Spencer scoffed but his cheeks started to redden, conveying the truth.

“Oh man, I’m right aren’t I?” Luke’s laughter grew.

It increased in volume enough to grant the attention from the others who had been silently working away at their desks.

“What’s going on?” JJ perked up, her blonde head of hair appearing behind her computer monitor.

“Reid’s got a sex diary.” Luke spoke over his shoulder to the whole bullpen.

“I most certainly do not.” His cheeks burned with his embarrassment and he shrunk a little in his chair.

“Reid? Spencer Reid?” Tara stood from her desk, eyebrow cocked in her blatant confusion. “No way, I don’t believe that.”

“Good, because it's not true.” He held the journal closer to his chest.

“He’s hiding something in there, there’s a reason he won’t let me read it.” Luke scoffed.

“Did it occur to you that some people don’t enjoy sharing their entire life story?” Spencer grumbled.

By now JJ and Matt were on their feet too, and the three other agents closed in on his desk. He was thankful at least Emily, Rossi and Garcia were in their respective offices. He shrunk lower in his chair, wishing he were able to simply vanish into thin air.

“Oh he’s definitely hiding something.” Tara folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow still raised in a combination of suspicion and delight.

“So what if I am? I’m entitled to my secrets.” Spencer complained.

“The last time you kept a secret from us you ended up in prison.” JJ’s shoulders slumped, wincing a little at her own words.

“This isn’t…it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It’s just memories okay? Memories of a great summer I had before I joined the bureau and I’d like to keep them to myself.”

“Oh it’s totally a sex diary.” Matt chuckled heartily.

“For the love of…” Spencer trailed off, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the journal under his arm. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Can you please just respect my privacy for once? I know how hard that is for you guys.”

“Ouch,” JJ pouted. “Sorry for caring.”

“Jennifer, we both know this has nothing to do with you caring about me.” He clucked, pushing past the gaggle of his friends and marching out of the bullpen.

He felt them watching him, muttering under their breaths as he walked away. He hurried down the corridor out of view until he pushed his way into the men’s bathroom.

He slumped into a stall and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Placing the old leather bound diary in his lap he ran his fingers over the cover.

He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over a stupid journal. Except it wasn’t stupid, far from it. It was his collection of memories from a life he wished he could go back and relive.

The twenty two year old who’d put pen to these pages was naive and innocent, his whole life ahead of him. The boy he’d been back then didn’t know of the horrors he was yet to face. It was a much simpler time and he wanted to be able to cling to that without his friends being involved.

For fourteen years his team had been privy to every moment of his life, good and bad. Was it so wrong that Spencer wanted to just keep this one thing to himself?

He huffed out a staggered breath, wishing not for the first time that just cared a little less. It made sense when he was younger, he’d been green when he joined the FBI and the team had treated him with kid gloves, probably rightfully so. But he was a grown man now, older and more worldly, he didn’t need them treating him like a child.

He cracked the spine of the journal, opening it up to the first page and continued caressing the worn page with his fingers. The diary began at the end, retrospectively writing of his adventures during the last week of that summer when he realised he didn’t want those memories to escape him.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters.

Here in this diary he had meticulously journalled everything that transpired during his last few months in his hometown and how those moments had changed his life forever. He cautiously turned the page, careful not to tear the aged paper.

He felt the heat rising, the sun high in the sky. He became aware of the somewhat blistering concrete beneath him, the occasional sound of passing cars. He could make out the scent of sunblock in the air, chlorine from nearby backyard swimming pools.

Brushing his digits across the page he was transported away from Virginia, away from the bathroom on the sixth floor Quantico office. As he closed his eyes, the Las Vegas summer stretched out before him.

June 2nd 2002

The temperature edged over a hundred two days ago and the AC hasn’t worked in three years. Really need to sell the house, I must look into that when I get to DC. Mom hasn’t lived here since I sent her off to Bennington and this was the last summer I’d be needing it.

It was cooler to sit outside, despite the humidity, it was preferable to the stuffy house with no AC. I planned to go to the library, basking in its glorious air conditioning unit but after stepping outside and immediately feeling the sweat gathering all over my skin, I decided against walking for five miles in this heat.

And boy would I be glad for that decision.

I’m not sure what it was that tore my attention away from the Great Gatsby that morning. I had this feeling, this inexplicable feeling running through my veins and forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention.

And when I looked up, there she was. It was as though she was floating, drifting so effortlessly across the street I was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. She regarded me curiously, most people did. She was unblinking, a slow and cautious smile building on her lips.

I simply stared back in awe at this angelic creature heading my way, never letting her gaze falter from me. I was stunned into silence as she approached up the front path, head tilting to the side as she analysed me.

She invited herself closer, up the three concrete stairs before dropping to the top step right next to me, opening her mouth and inquisitively speaking…

“What are you reading?” You smiled at him in what you hoped to be an amicable manner, but nonetheless his back straightened as if you posed a threat to him.

“Uh…” he swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing. “Me?”

“Yes you.” You laughed. “Who else would I be talking to?”

The peculiar man looked around like he expected someone else to be sitting on his stoop with the two of you. He scratched at the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He rolled his chapped lip between his teeth.

“I’m Y/N.” You shook your head, still laughing a little at his obvious awkwardness.

“Sp-Spencer.” He stuttered.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer.” You nodded curtly. “I’m house sitting for my aunt for the summer, what’s good to do around here?”

Her smile could have lit up the whole night sky, her laugh the sweetest sound I’d ever been lucky enough to hear. She was summer, she would still be summer in the dead of winter. She was magnetic, effervescent.

She was the first drop of rain after a long drought, she was those first few seconds in the morning when you wake up where you momentarily forget all of life's problems. She was…

“Reid, you in here? We got a case.” Luke’s voice broke him out of his revere, eyes flickering off of the page up to the closed stall door.

“I’ll be right there.” He croaked, closing the diary again.

He closed his eyes and inhaled until his lungs were full. He counted to five in his head and listened for the door to close before he slowly exhaled. He repeated the action three more times before he trusted himself to stand.

He swore he could still smell your perfume as he forced his way out of the bathroom and back to reality.

***

June 14th 2002

All the nights we stayed up talking, listening to 80's songs. It still brings a smile to my face.

Her aunt's house, which I came to learn was just up the street and had a new, state of the art AC unit fitted. The next two weeks we spent nearly everyday there listening to her favourite songs on the old stereo, most of which I’d never heard before.

The likes of Van Halen, The Cure, AC/DC and The Pixies played on repeat while she quizzed me on my life and I on hers. She was from San Francisco and her aunt was on vacation so she’d offered to house sit for the summer. She was a year younger than me at twenty one and fresh out of college with no idea where she was heading next.

I kind of envied her, she was a free spirit, she could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. And for whatever reason, she chose to spend her summer with me.

You hummed along to the music, Where is My Mind by the Pixies encompassing the room. You laid on your back on the couch, your feet in Spencer’s lap and the AC sending its cool waves towards you.

You cradled the blunt between your fingertips, every now and again raising it to your lips and sucking on it. The room was filling with smoke, the smell of it alone enough to make Spencer a little light headed.

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” You spoke with a lungful smoke.

“I’m good, really.” Spencer smiled his tight-lipped smile you’d grown accustomed to the last few weeks.

“It would be out of your system before you start your big government job.” You giggled.

“It’s not just that.” He shook his head. “Smoking marijuana at our age while our brains are still technically developing can affect IQ. A study showed that those who started smoking pot before twenty five lost six to eight IQ points by middle age.”

You sat up on your elbows, your eyebrows deeply furrowed at him.

“You think it’s really going to affect your life so much if you lose a couple of IQ points, Doc?” Your lip quipped up into a smile.

“I don’t want to risk it.” Spencer noted your slightly bloodshot eyes.

You took another long drag, the sound of the paper crackling as it burnt filled his ears. You breathed it in before slowly exhaling the smoke out into the room.

“Hmm,” you hummed in content, dropping the half smoked blunt into a little glass dish on the coffee table. “Now I feel light as a feather.”

“You could get that feeling in many other ways. The main psychoactive ingredient, THC, is simply stimulating the part of the brain that responds to pleasure. It’s releasing dopamine which is what’s giving you that euphoric feeling.” He told you almost sternly.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, sitting up further so you could get a good look at him.

“Pleasure, huh?” You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “It’s the same way you would respond to food or…”

“Or?” Your lip twitched.

“Other pleasurable activities.” He swallowed again, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You swung your legs off of his lap and shuffled closer to him on the couch. You saw him swallow yet again, noticed his chest heave with a deep breath.

The closer you got to him the more you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves and you dared move so you were straddling his lap.

Your knees pressing either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and a hagged breath left between his pouty lips. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour now and from this position in his lap you knew exactly why.

“Spence?” You whispered as he looked at you in embarrassment.

It would be painfully obvious from where you were sitting that he was aroused and he felt so incredibly vulnerable in that moment.

“Yes, Y/N?” He croaked.

“What other pleasurable activities are you talking about?”

“I think…I think you know.”

“Hmm let’s pretend I don’t.” You smiled coyly. “After all, I’ve probably knocked off a few IQ points right? What other pleasurable activities?”

You rolled your hips a little in his lap and Spencer mewled at the sensation. This was the closest he’d ever come to having someone other than himself touch him and he felt dizzy. He felt so dizzy that when he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d even meant to let the word slip off his tongue.

“S-sex.” He breathed, the smile on your face growing in approval.

“Well now, that does sound more appealing than smoking.” You edged your face closer to him, rolling your hips into his lap once more.

He smelt your perfume and the pot on your breath. He felt like his skin was on fire and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

A moment before you lips touched his, the sound of a phone ring cut through the room and you sprung apart suddenly.

Spencer remained sitting on the couch while you ambled over to the landline. He watched you go, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.

But the erection still visible through his slacks begged to differ.

***

He returned the journal to his satchel as the jet came into land near Dallas. He knew word of his mysterious diary had reached Emily and Rossi and the whole team had been watching him read on the flight.

He tried to cast his memories to the back of his mind and focus on the case, people were being murdered and that had to take precedence over his nostalgic thoughts.

Emily sent him and Rossi to the morgue and Spencer tried to pretend he was focused on a case file while Rossi drove them. He could see the older man looking at him in his peripheral vision.

Thankfully Rossi did not ask him about the journal even though Spencer knew he wanted to.

It was in the back of his mind all day and after he retired to his hotel room and showered, he found himself thumbing through to the next page.

July 1st 2002

Breaking into hotel swimming pools, and wreaking havoc on our world. Does it make me completely dumb that I would follow her to the ends of the earth?

I knew it was a bad idea, but I just can’t say no to her. She said she had something fun planned and so like an idiot I came along.

I didn’t say anything when we jumped the fence. It was around eleven pm and all the lights around the pool were out, the stars and the moon reflecting on the still water.

I still didn’t say anything when she started stripping down to her underwear, mostly because it rendered me speechless. The sight of her in nothing but that skimpy black lace lingerie caused me to forget my own name and I’m sure I just stared at her slack jaw.

It’s been a few weeks since I think she tried to kiss me and she hasn’t said anything about it. I’m starting to think I misread the situation entirely.

At least I was, until she stripped off her clothes by the side of the pool and curled her finger at me, beckoning me closer.

“You fancy a dip, Spencer?” Your voice was breathy and he followed your motion to come closer.

“Uh, won’t we get in trouble?” He padded forward all the same.

“Only if we get caught.” You giggled, reaching for him as soon as he was close enough.

You gripped him by the lapels of his shirt to tug him forward before your fingers glided towards the top button. He stared at you without a word while you effortlessly popped the buttons one by one.

Once you’d gotten the last button undone your hands moved to his shoulders and you helped push the fabric down his arms until it dropped to the floor.

He was painfully skinny but it didn’t stop him from subconsciously sucking in his small stomach. Your eyes grazed up and down his torso, taking in every inch of skin.

He felt hot beneath your gaze despite the fact the temperature plummeted at night. He felt self conscious, not worthy of your eyes on him. But when you met his gaze again you were smiling.

When your hands landed on the button of his slacks his breath hitched and his legs wobbled slightly. You giggled again, a sound that had become Spencer’s favourite melody over the past month.

You made quick work of the button and zipper before hooking your fingers in the side of his pants and shimming them down his legs.

Spencer stayed still and silent while you undressed him until his pants pooled at his feet and he kicked off his converse so he could remove them completely.

His hands darted in front of him, trying to hide the exceedingly noticeable tenting in his tight boxers. He could tell you knew what he was trying to hide by the playful smile now on your lips.

It was an all too regular occurrence around you. You only had to glance at him a certain way and he would be standing at full attention. It wasn’t his fault, you were unfairly beautiful.

Suddenly you turned your back on him, floating as you so often did towards the pool. Before Spencer’s brain could catch up you were diving into the still water, causing ripples to roll out across the pool.

A few droplets splashed up onto his face and chest. While you were submerged he moved closer to the edge and slipped into the cool water before you could have a chance to scrutinise his body again.

When you emerged you wiped your hair off your face and found Spencer in the pool, leaning back against the wall. The water wasn’t too deep but he crouched down so it was covering him up to his chest.

You waded towards him, eyes sparkling from the moonlight. He pushed himself back against the side of the pool, his nerves written all over his face.

“Everything okay, Doc?” You asked as you neared him.

“Fine, just fine.” He nodded stiffly.

“You sure about that?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, moving dangerously closer.

“Hmm mmm.” He tried to insist but you weren’t buying it.

Your eyes were dark by the time you were right in front of him, almost black. The smile on your face was sinful and it made Spencer’s knees weak.

No one had ever looked at him the way you were looking at him at that moment. He may be naive but he knew exactly what that look meant. And as if to prove that point, your right hand disappeared under the water and seconds later it was palming him through his underwear.

A pathetic whimper left his lips at the contact even though there was a layer of wet fabric between him and your hand.

Your smile grew at his reaction, your other hand now moving to grip his shoulder. Spencer’s arms remained at his sides, his breathing already heightened.

“Spencer?” You whispered. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”

He rolled his lip between his teeth and shook his head dispondantly.

“No,” he confessed. “I, uh, I’ve never even…kissed anyone before.”

He felt the heat spreading to his cheeks and he was painfully aware of your hand still palming him. Your smile turned a little sad, pitying almost.

“You want to change that?” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “Yes p-please.”

“So polite,” you stepped even closer. “Such a good boy.”

When your lips finally touched his, he whined against them, feeling an explosion of emotions in one simple action. Your tongue easily made its way into his mouth and your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head.

You kissed him fiercely, exploring his mouth with hunger. Spencer didn’t do much of anything, simply stood limply while you kissed the air from his lungs.

He continued to whine against your lips when your hand started moving around his shaft. His hips started to rock against you of their own accord and he so desperately wished there wasn’t a piece of fabric in his way.

As though you could read his mind your hand shifted and your fingers trailed across his stomach just about the waistband of his boxers. He moaned deeply and you pulled back from the kiss, a questioning expression on your features.

“Can I?” You panted as you spoke, nodding your head downwards.

All Spencer could do was nod dumbly in response.

You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again, somehow more ferociously than before. When your hand slid inside the sodden material of his boxers and wrapped around his length an animalistic moan erupted from his lips, swallowed down in your own mouth.

Your small hand couldn’t quite reach all the way around his thick shaft as you started moving up and down on it. His hips started bucking harder than before, telling you he enjoyed it.

His brain was mush, he couldn’t form a single coherent thought except how phenomenal your hand felt. His lack of awareness allowed him a little more confidence and he finally moved his arms, his hands finding your face and holding you while he kissed you.

You smiled against his lips, the water started to lap around your bodies with your movements. You kept up a steady pace as you stroked him while removing one of his hands from your face.

He let you guide his hand over the planes of your body until it was situated between your legs. He inhaled sharply, having to tear his lips away from yours.

You were both panting as you looked at each other, his breathing staggered due to the way you were touching him. His hand was still between your legs, ghosting outside of your panties.

“You…you’re sure?” He breathed erratically.

“Very.” You nodded, increasing your speed and eliciting another feral moan from Spencer.

“I…I’ve never done this before.”

“You strike me as a quick learner.” You smirked.

“F-fuck…” he mumbled. “I…I am.”

“Make me feel good, Spence. Be a good boy for me.”

Your words of praise made him hiss, bucking hard into your hand. It was enough encouragement for him to inch your panties aside before his fingers slid beneath the fabric.

You were surprised to say the least when one of his digits quickly found your clit and started rubbing it deftly, as though he’d done this hundreds of times before.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, your grip on him faltering for a second at the sensation.

“Fuck…” you whined, trying to focus on your strokes. “You…you sure you’ve never done that before?”

“P-positive.” He nodded, his knees buckling as he felt precome leaking from his head. “S’good?”

“So good, baby. So good.” You crashed your lips together again as he increased his speed, rubbing your sensitive bud like he’d been doing it his whole life.

You squeezed the base of his shaft before matching his speed with your strokes. You were moaning into each other's waiting mouths, water frantically lapping around your bodies.

You whined when his finger disappeared from your clit but soon two of his digits were swiping through your folds. When you felt them pressed against your entrance, begging for access, you nibbled on his bottom lip and squeezed his cock again telling him to continue.

You moaned in unison as his two long, slender fingers entered you. Spencer felt as though he might pass out at the sensation as his fingers pushed all the way inside of you.

He felt your shift and move around him, your walls fluttering against his digits. That combined with the way you were frenziedly pumping him caused his stomach to tighten with the telltale signs of his impending orgasm.

“Oh my gosh you feel so incredible.” He whined, plunging his fingers deeper inside you.

You felt him twitching in your hand, still lazily rocking into your touch.

“Are you close, baby?” Your thighs squeezed around his hand.

“Y-yes.” He admitted, fingers coniniting to move in and out of you, desperate to give you as much pleasure as you were bestowing upon him.

“Come for me, Spence. Come for me.”

He whimpered again, the pressure building in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to.

With a staggered moan his hips jut forward as he came in the pool, while you stroked him through his first orgasm not at his own hand.

***

In a hotel room just outside of Dallas, Spencer narrowly managed to move the journal out of the way just in time for him to spill his load over his own hand.

He fell back against the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily and his hand still slowly moving up and down his spent shaft.

He glanced at the diary through hazy eyes and shook his head, removing his hand from his cock and wiping his seed on the bed sheet.

He swore he could feel your hand there even after all these years, feel the water splashing around his naked torso.

He could feel you around his fingers, the way you clenched tighter as you came not so long after he did.

He could still feel the weight of your body as you fell against him in the pool, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you panted heavily into his wet skin.

Things had been so much simpler then, he sometimes yearned for those days. A part of him wished he hadn’t found the journal in the first place then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself sucked down this particular rabbit hole.

Despite the memories swarming his brain he fell asleep without even cleaning himself off, one hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other clutching the battered diary.

***

July 4th 2002

Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminates the blackest nights. Cherry cokes under this moonlit summer sky.

I suggested going to an organised event for the Fourth of July celebrations but she insisted that we have our own.

She brought a ton of fireworks, it was a wonder she didn’t blow a hand off that night, fumbling to light them whilst dragging on a blunt.

But I simply watched her from the back of her aunt’s old VW Camper, sipping on my coke in absolute awe of her every move.

Since our pool escapades the other day, every time I look at her I get chills. Every time I catch sight of her I think of the way she felt as she touched me, as I touched her…

She hasn’t even so much as kissed me since and I’m partially wondering if it was all a vivid dream. At least I was until tonight.

You sauntered back over towards the open back doors of your camper where Spencer sat cross legged on a blanket.

Seconds later an array of fireworks erupted in the sky over the abandoned parking lot, the sounds and the colours a feast for the senses.

But you weren’t watching them. You were watching him.

You crawled into the back of the van, right into his lap, straddling him as you took a long pull on the joint. You inhaled the smoke and tossed the butt over your shoulder before placing your hands on his shoulders.

When you kissed him the smoke filtered out of your mouth and into his but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around your waist while your tongues explored each other's mouths.

You guided him backwards so he was laying down, his cock already fully erect and pressing against you. You laid on top of him and continued to kiss him fiercely.

His hands found purchase on your back, gently holding you close. You were grinding against him causing him to moan into your mouth and squirm beneath you.

He knew where this would inevitably lead if he let it. He wanted to, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being a virgin forever and you were the first woman to ever show him this kind of attention.

But he didn’t want to just be another guy to you. He didn’t want to just be a quick lay you’d forget all about. And inevitably that’s what would happen.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about often but at the end of summer you were going back to San Francisco and he was going to DC. If he slept with you that’s all it would ever be. And he didn’t want that.

You continued to kiss him and grind against him but his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and all the blood that had previously been flowing south rerouted itself. He didn’t even realise until you sat back and looked at him curiously.

“Is everything okay?” You breathed heavily, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned up at you.

“Uh…” Your eyes flicked down towards his crotch at the same time he realised he was completely flaccid.

His cheeks burnt and he cursed his overactive brain.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to sit back up.

You slid off of his lap and sat next to him while he drew his legs close to his body.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I come on a little strong.” You shrugged meekly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m never going to see again once summer is over.” He cringed at his own words, at how needy and sad he sounded.

Your expression turned pitying and it made him feel even more stupid.

“I get it.” You smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“It’s kinda hard not to be.” He buried his head into his knees and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sure most guys, normal guys, would jump at the chance to be with a woman as beautiful as you. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, I was always so much younger than my peers so it made sense. I wasn’t waiting or anything, not deliberately. But now the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m the casual sex kind of guy. God that sounds so lame.”

You were smiling to yourself at how adorable he was. With his face against his knees his words were muffled but you caught the gist of them.

You shuffled closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his face back up so he would look at you.

“I think that’s kinda noble.” You whispered.

“I think the word you’re looking for is sad.” He huffed.

“No, it’s not.” You let go of his face. “I understand, Spencer. I wish I’d waited, I wish I’d waited for someone like you.”

He let you wrap your arms around him and he leant against your chest while you held him. Off in the distance fireworks continued to illuminate the sky, the far off sound of their explosions a strange comfort.

***

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms somewhat aggressively after almost an hour of staring at the map of their unsubs hunting ground.

Despite falling asleep quickly last night his peace had been short lived and he’d woken less than two hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep.

He didn’t know why he was letting the diary affect him in such a way, shouldn’t it have the opposite result? Those entries were from the best days of his life, but maybe it served as a reminder that he could never go back to that time.

He wasn’t that naive kid anymore, he’d suffered one too many traumas in his life to ever be that kid again. Back then his most difficult decision was whether or not to have sex with a beautiful woman. He longed to have such trivial problems.

He’d felt so stupid after the night of the fourth of July he had avoided you for two weeks after. He’d wasted what precious time the two of you had together feeling idiotic over his decision to turn you down and hidden out in the public library just to circumvent any further interaction with you.

He turned to face the room, realising he was alone in the small meeting room. Last he checked JJ and Luke were at the table going over files, when had they left?

He frowned to himself, reaching for his satchel and pulling the journal out, flipping to the next page.

July 19th 2002

Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up, these are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is just following your heart, and eventually you'll finally get it right.

He closed his eyes with a shake of his head. Wasn’t that the painful truth? He’d written that particular entry with a smile on his face like the cat that got the cream. That date had been the best of his whole whirlwind summer.

After stewing in his stupidity for two weeks he had shown up at your aunt's house unexpected and uninvited. You’d barely let him inside before he’d kissed you. And it wasn’t long at all before he was leading you back to the couch.

“Spence, what’s going on?” You panted, looking up at him from where you laid on the couch.

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” He was fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt, hands noticeably shaking.

“But I thought…you said you didn’t want this? And then you don’t talk to me for weeks and now you-”

“I was overthinking, I do that a lot. But I don’t want to overthink this.” He finished unbuttoning the shirt and dropped it to the floor before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.

“You’re sure?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Extremely.” He replied.

He snapped the journal closed before he could get carried away. He didn’t exactly go into graphic detail of what transpired on your aunt’s couch that day but it was certainly not safe for work material.

He didn’t need to read the words anyway, he’d memorised everything about that day. He learnt by heart the way your skin felt against his, the way the two of you melted together as though your bodies somehow became one. He’d retained every little detail of how you felt, every tiny movement of your body as he’d made love to you.

He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

Just as he was slotting the diary back into his satchel, trying not to get caught up in the blissful memory, the door opened and JJ strolled in carrying two take out coffee cups. She smiled at him, handing him one of the drinks. He smiled at her in thanks.

Her eyes flitted to his open bag and the diary nestled inside. When she looked back at him she had an amused expression on her face.

“So, sex diary, huh?” She chuckled lightly.

“It is nothing of the sort.” He rolled his eyes.

“Alvez is convinced otherwise.”

“Well Alvez doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Summer of oh-two right?” She narrowed her eyes on him, the way she did when she was trying to profile him.

“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wasn’t that-”

“Yes.” He cut her off.

The summer I met the love of my life.

He’d told JJ snippets from that summer, she was the only one who he’d ever told. She knew as much as he’d met a wonderful woman who he’d lost his virginity to and over the course of a summer had fallen in love with her. As far as he knew she’d never told anyone.

“So why has it gotten you so tetchy? I would have thought you’d like to relive those days?” She slid into one of the chairs sipping her own coffee but her scrutinising gaze stayed on him.

He let out a haggard sigh, taking a seat next to her and using his free hand to swipe his hair back off of his face.

“Do you ever feel like the best days of your life have passed you by?” He found himself asking.

JJ’s expression softened, a melancholy smile adorned on her lips. She sat forward slightly in the chair.

“Is that really what you think?” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and she felt him tense up at her touch.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” He wiggled his nose, a gesture he did when he was uncomfortable. “I guess I just miss being that carefree.”

“Spencer Reid, carefree? Can’t picture it.” JJ laughed around her cup.

“Fine, maybe not carefree.” He chuckled too. “But not…this. I’m worried I’m never going to bounce back from prison. I went to therapy, I took the medication, I should be over it by now.”

“Spence, you have PTSS, that doesn’t just go away. You know as well as I do, probably better, that the symptoms can be managed, that it can remain dormant for months, even years. But the trauma you suffered is what evoked your PTSS and that doesn’t leave you. You’ll probably always be dealing with it in one way or another.” JJ squeezed his knee before Spencer moved out of her touch.

He knew what she was saying was right and that’s what made it harder to hear. PTSS was something he would always live with, something that could always be triggered in the future. He’d created coping mechanisms, dealt with his trauma but it didn’t make it go away, it would never just vanish into thin air. He could never undo the damage that had already been done.

“I thought reading that journal would help me feel like my old self but it’s having the opposite effect. Because I’m never going to be that kid again.” He shook his head sadly.

“And why would you want to be?” JJ scoffed.

“Excuse me?” He frowned at her.

“Spence, I knew you at twenty two. You were painfully shy and awkward. It took you years to be able to look me in the eye. You’ve changed so much in the years I’ve known you and that’s not a bad thing. You’re better at your job, you’re a better man now than you were at twenty two, you have to see that?” She hoped her words were getting through, hoped he would listen to her before he fell into a self pity spiral he may never get out of.

He exhaled shakily, taking another sip of coffee while he tried to come up with a response. But he didn’t have to, as soon the door was opening again and Luke entered the room. And Spencer quickly jumped up and returned to his map, effectively shutting down any further conversation on the subject.

***

August 6th 2002

Hanging out at truck stops, just to pass the time. Watching the slew of cars fly by on the freeway, eating bags of chips while she tossed stones out into the rolling desert beyond us.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” He asked you as you flung another stone off into the distance.

You turned to face him, both sitting in the gravel, leaning up against the side of the truck stop building.

“Why not?” You quipped.

“There are countless other more interesting things in Las Vegas than sitting at a truck stop. You’re only here a few more weeks and I thought you wanted to see the city?”

“I have seen the city.”

“You’ve seen abandoned parking lots, old motel swimming pools and the inside of your aunt’s house.” He shook his head.

“Hmm,” you mused. “I have been very acquainted with her ceiling these past few weeks.” You winked at him and his cheeks immediately burned at the insinuation.

It wasn’t a lie. The last couple of weeks the two of you had barely left your aunt’s house in lieu of making the most of each other's company whilst wearing as few clothes as possible.

Spencer wasn’t strictly complaining about that, sex with you was one of the wonders of the world and he’d happily do it for the rest of his life. But he was painfully aware of what little time you had left together.

“It’s a pretty good ceiling.” He swallowed thickly, having had his own share of experiences in which he was staring at that ceiling too.

You giggled and it was literally music to his ears. You tossed another stone before suddenly getting to your feet.

Spencer followed suit, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you took hold of his hand and started leading him around the side of the building.

“Where are we going?” He asked, not that it really mattered. He’d long ago realised he would follow you anywhere.

“You’ll see.” You giggled again, giving his hand a squeeze.

He followed you inside a grimy and slightly dilapidated bathroom, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion.

When you let go of his hand and locked the door, his stomach coiled into knots and his cock immediately started to come to life.

“Y/N?” He breathed. “What are we…why are we…?”

You laughed and took him by the hand again, leading him into a stall. The door was coming off of its hinges and the tiled floor was dirty and cracked. You didn’t seem to notice.

You pushed him up against one of the walls in the stall and started kissing him with ferocity. He kissed you back, trying to ignore the stench of a bathroom that was long overdue for a good clean.

He didn’t really have much time to dwell on such trivial things however as soon as you were dropping to your knees on the filthy floor and looking up at him through your lashes.

The simple action had him standing at full attention, his stomach tightly coiled. He’d dreamed of what it would be like to have you go down on him but never imagined it would happen.

He was too polite to ask and too innocent to assume. But it hadn’t stopped him from imagining it countless times.

You smiled at him, toying with the button of his slacks and chewing seductively on your lip.

“Is this what you want, Doc?” You breathed.

“You have no idea.” He nodded somewhat frantically.

“Be a good boy and say it for me. I can’t read your mind.” You teased.

The idea of dirty talking in any way would have normally freaked him out but it had become clear to both of you early on that when you called him a good boy he’d do just about anything.

“P-please,” he whined, bucking his hips. “Please s-suck my cock.”

You hissed at his words, teeth sinking deeply into your own lip.

“Oh you’re so good, Spencer. Such a good boy for me.” You popped the button as a reward.

“Your good boy.” He agreed with a whimper.

“My best boy.” You smirked, tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees in one swift move.

He gasped as the stale air hit his erect cock and pushed himself back against the stall wall. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as your index finger ghosted up and down the throbbing vein that ran the length of his shaft.

His knees were already quaking, desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as soon you bowed your head, parted your lips and took his head into your mouth.

His eyes rolled back in his head in an instant and the sounds coming from his lips could only be described as feral as you slowly took him all the way in your mouth.

He yelped when he hit the back of your throat, partly through pleasure and partly through fear he might hurt you. He knew he wasn’t exactly small, not quite so naive as to be blind to the fact he was sporting an above average sized package.

But to your credit you didn’t even so much as gag and when you looked up at him through your lashes again, nose buried in his pubic hair, he swore you were smiling.

***

At the back of the jet Spencer tried to rearrange his satchel in his lap to disguise his growing erection from anyone who might pass him by. The mere thought of that day you’d given him his very first blow job was enough to make him strain at the front of his slacks.

The case in Dallas was wrapped up in just two days despite Spencer’s lack of concentration and he was so pleased to be heading home.

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the headrest and trying not to think about that day but failed miserably.

Getting to come while he had sex with you was incredible, of course, but being inhibited by condoms always left him feeling a little incomplete. But the feeling of coming down your throat, having every last drop of his arousal swallowed down while you smiled at him was out of this world.

He whimpered a little under his breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. He grit his teeth together hard and opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters…

“What are you doing?” You sing-songed, dropping yourself next to him on the couch.

“Just writing.” He hurried to close the journal before you caught sight of anything.

“Writing what?” Your eyes were sparkling playfully at him.

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” He shrugged, hugging the book to his chest.

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

Three days later, on September first, you’d been leaving Vegas, waving to him from the rear window of the bus taking you to the airport.

***

September 1st 2002

I don’t know why but some reason I genuinely thought this summer might never end. Time is just a construct right? Maybe this summer could last forever.

More logically, or maybe less depending on how you look at it, I think I actually thought she’d stay, come with me to DC. I asked her to, although I don’t think she realised I was being serious.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

“I know, I’m just scared for this to end. I…Y/N I have fallen in love with you. Don’t go back to California, come to DC with me instead.”

She’d simply laughed as though I’d told the world's funniest joke, patted me on the shoulder and said, “oh wouldn’t that just be the dream, Doc?”

That was three days ago and she hasn’t brought it up since and neither have I. And today I helped her with her bags to the bus station so she could leave me forever.

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

“I am gonna miss you, you know, Doc?” You toyed with his lapel, the sweetest of smiles on your face. “I had a way better summer than I planned for.”

“M-me too.” He croaked, stupidly feeling hot tears brewing behind his eyes.

“Don’t be sad, you’re leaving for Quantico next week. Your dream job, remember? You're going to be saving lives and kicking ass. You’ll forget all about me.” You smiled.

“Doubtful.” He huffed.

The engine of the bus roared to life behind the two of you and your smile turned a little sad. You breathed out before leaning in close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You have to forget me, Doc. Summers over.” You whispered against his lips and before he could reply you were turning away and sauntering to the doors of the bus.

His heart constricted in his chest, tears encompassing his vision. Nothing about this was fair even though he’d know all along you’d be leaving. It didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.

He rubbed his eyes heavily before your face appeared at the back window. You were still smiling but if he didn’t know any better he swore your own eyes were filled with tears.

The sound of the doors closing caused his chest to tighten further. This was it. It was over. You were leaving.

As the bus rumbled into gear and started forward, you waved to him and his tears broke free. He raised his hand and waved back while they rolled down his cheeks.

He stood on the sidewalk waving as the bus started its journey, watching as the only woman he would ever love was cruelly taken away from him.

***

He rolled his neck as he ascended the stairs to his apartment after a long metro ride home from Quantico. He freed his keys from his satchel, fingertips brushing over the worn leather cover of the journal as he did so.

He’d never be that innocent twenty two year old again. But was that really such a bad thing? Maybe JJ was right, he was better at his job, he was a better man now than he had been back then. Getting caught up in this wave of nostalgia was foolish.

Ultimately Spencer knew he wouldn’t go back to that age for all the money in the world. That summer might have been the best of his life, but it wasn’t as though his life had been terrible after that. Things sometimes had a way of working themselves out, the universe had its own plan for everyone.

And despite the trauma thrown his way, the universe hadn’t been entirely merciless towards him.

He found himself smiling for the first time in days as he slotted the key in his apartment door. He’d been thrown a lot of curveballs in his life, dealt a hand that no one person should have to tackle alone.

But then he never really had been alone, had he?

He turned the key and pushed open the door, the light from the lamp next to the couch illuminating the room in the homely glow he loved so much.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee met his nose, wrapping him in its warmth. He smiled brighter, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his satchel. He pulled out the journal and cradled it under his arm. Then he turned towards the couch and the body sat upon it, his smile grew tenfold.

“Welcome home, Doc.”

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

He continued to wave dumbly as the bus got further away, tears streaking down his cheeks and he feared they may never end.

He even kept waving when the bus came to an abrupt stop, even carrying on when the doors swung open and you appeared on the sidewalk.

He finally lowered his hand when you started running towards him, tears rolling from your eyes and a frantic expression on your features.

“You meant it didn’t you? When you asked me to come to DC with you, you meant it. You meant it and I knew you did but I laughed because I was scared.” You spat out, speaking so fast all your words rolled into one.

“I did mean it.” He croaked, scared to reach for you in case you vanished in a puff of smoke. “And I also meant it when I told you I love you.”

“I, uh…” your voice cracked and you scuffed your toe on the concrete. “Would it be utterly crazy if I did come with you to DC?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “Realistically we barely know each other. We might come to find when we learn more about one another that we don’t actually like what we find. Take me, I’m neurotic, I’m a neat freak, a germaphobe. I own too many books, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, I’m-”

“Spencer?” You chuckled through your tears, cutting him off of his rant.

“I ramble when I’m nervous.” He sighed. “But I do know that I love you. And I’m almost positive that I will love every little thing about you, most likely for the rest of my life. So it is probably crazy of you to come to DC with me, but I hope you do it anyway.”

“Spence?” You smiled, wiping at your tears. “I love you too, and I’m positive I will love every little thing about you too. For the rest of my life.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath of relief and wiped his own tears moments before you fell into his arms and kissed him more fiercely than you ever had before. And you both knew no matter how crazy it was, it also made absolutely perfect sense.

“Good to be home, angel.” He kissed you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

He always did that, despite how many years it had been. Regardless of the fact you’d now been together since you were twenty one years old and he was twenty two, in spite of the fact you’d married him, he always felt the need to keep you as close as humanly possible as though afraid he may lose you like he almost had all those years ago.

“Missed you.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Missed you more.” He replied.

When he broke away from you, your eyes landed on the diary and you laughed, tugging it free of his grip.

“JJ called me this morning and said you’d been pining over this thing.” You ran your fingers over the worn cover.

“Best summer of my life.” He smiled as the two of you sank to the couch.

Spencer wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you nuzzled against him, still toying with the old diary.

“Mine too. But we can’t live in the past forever. And I don’t know about you but I’m pretty happy right here in the present. And I’m certain our future is going to look pretty damn good.” You took his hand in your free one and brought it to your lips so you could place delicate kisses on his knuckles.

He’d been so sure as he watched that bus pull away that he would never see you again, that he had lost a piece of his heart forever. The summer of ‘02 he had met the love of his life and he had counted his lucky stars every day that he was also the love of yours.

You’d stayed by his side through every hurdle. You’d helped him get clean after his addiction which could have torn the two of you apart, held his hand through every single NA meeting and soothed him through withdrawals.

You’d gone to every doctor's appointment with him while he was suffering from debilitating headaches, dried his tears when he thought Emily had died and held his hand at the funeral. You’d felt his anger towards JJ and Hotch when Emily came back from the dead.

You’d done the same when Gideon died, when Morgan left the team and then Hotch. You’d visited him every day in prison and told him on every visit that no matter how long it took you would be waiting for him when he got out.

“Until death do us part, Doc. I didn’t take our vows lightly.”

He held you closer, trying to communicate to you just how much your love and support had meant to him over the years.

“Have I ever thanked you for getting off that bus?” He sighed in content.

“Only every single day since.” You giggled, still after all these years his absolute favourite sound in the world.

He laughed with you, holding you impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of your perfume he still loved so much.

One summer had turned his whole life upside down. One glorious summer changed everything. That summer and the memories the two of you had created would forever live on, even without that old journal. But you were right, he couldn’t live in the past forever, nor would he want to. His present was as close to perfect as it could possibly be.

And even in the coldest depths of winter, you would always be the summer of Spencer Reid’s heart.

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had.

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