Summary: In which You and Spencer make your yearly trip to the apple orchard an official tradition.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Apple cider was on your tongue, Spencer's oversized sweater was on your skin, and fall was in the air. Your stomach did somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.
This was the fourth year you and Spencer had gone to the apple orchard together. Still, it never lost the same magic that it had the first time. Nothing gave you more satisfaction than spending the entire afternoon together, filling up your wicker baskets with locally grown apples, then baking the first pie of the season with them.
Many people didn't know that Spencer was quite the baker. While neither of his parents had taught him many skills in the kitchen, his Home Ec teacher had taught him how to bake up a damn good pie.
The orchard wasn't far from your shared apartment, a quaint little place just outside Mount Vernon, Virginia. Luscious trees spanned for what appeared to be miles, filled to the brim with bright green pears and apples that were every shade of red. The owners were an older couple that Gideon had known in college, whom he later introduced to Spencer and you.
After your baskets were nearly overflowing, the two of you made your way back to the car, starting the journey home, Spencer's favorite CD playing quietly as the two of you talked over it.
Spencer, ever the gentleman, insisted on you heading inside first, saying he'd grab the baskets from the car while you got started on collecting the ingredients for the pie. So, you did as asked, grabbing your apron from the hanger and getting to work.
"I think we severely overestimated the size of our pie," he chuckled as he brought in the second, heavier container of apples.
"Nonsense," you giggled from your spot at the island, where you were currently peeling and cutting the apples from the first basket. "Penelope will want a pie, Hotch will ask us to make him one for Jack, Gideon's coming over tomorrow for the football game. These apples will be gone in days."
He gave you a look of agreement, though you could see there was an unspoken emotion behind his expression. Admiration or love, you figured. And with that, Spencer was grabbing another apron, joining you at the bar and getting to work on the pie crust.
Soon, a batch of apple tartlets was in the oven, while Spencer finished up the last of the work on the pie. You sat down next to him again, giving him a similar look to the affectionate expression he'd given you earlier.
"Hey, do you remember the first year we did this?" he asked randomly a few minutes later, a faint nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.
A smile of your own crept up to your mouth. "You mean the year you threw an egg at me?" you answered, a laugh settling on the edge of your tongue.
"Hey, I only hit you with an egg in self defense. You're the one that threw flour on me," he rebutted.
The aforementioned laugh rolled off your tongue, a sound that Spencer told you almost daily was his favorite noise in the whole world. "Of course I remember. Why do you ask?"
He sat quietly for a moment, as if pondering the reason himself. Eventually, he landed on, "I guess I wonder how many years you think we'll be able to do this together."
The uncertainty in his words was almost enough to break your heart. Since the first time you'd visited the orchard, you'd hoped you'd continued the tradition every year for the rest of your lives. Maybe even eventually rope your children and then their children into it too. You weren't sure where along the line you'd led Spencer to believe otherwise, but the unsure look on his face let you know that he was nervous about your answer to the question.
"I'm hoping forever, if you'll have me that long," you answered, placing a comforting squeeze on his sweater clad arm.
He leaned over, giving you a soft and sweet kiss. "That sounds like a plan to me."
As if on cue, the oven beeped, Spencer heading to grab the pan of tartlets. While he began placing them on the cooling rack, you headed over to the oven, placing the pie inside.
It took you a moment to register what was happening as you turned to face him again. At first, you thought maybe he'd dropped something or his shoe needed to be tied. But then, you realized there was something in his hand, one of the apple tarts. And then, examining the scene further, you noticed something shiny atop the treat in his hand.
The words were shaky as they exited Spencer's mouth, his hands trembling as they held up his creation. "I really hope you were serious about your answer to my last question. Otherwise, I'm gonna look very stupid," he chuckled nervously.
Tears slipped down your cheeks at the display in front of you, your heart thumping a thousand beats per minute. "That certainly doesn't belong in dessert," you managed to laugh, your tears nearly turning to full-on waterworks.
"I suppose it doesn't," he chuckled nervously, holding the tart up further. "I'm hoping you can overlook it just this once though."
"I'll try," the joke came out weak, tears still falling from your eyes.
As if remembering why he was down there in the first place, he shook his head and gave you a more serious expression. "Y/N, I have loved you for over four and a half years. But when I think of how long I wish to love you, four years seems like the smallest sliver of time. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I want this—the orchard, the pies, all of it—every year for the rest of our lives. If you'll have me, I'd really like to be your husband."
The words came out stuttery and nervous, random breaks in his sentences, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Especially not when the prospect of spending a lifetime with Spencer was on the table. "Of course I'll marry you," you answered, your own words somehow shakier than his.
He stood from his kneeling position, sliding the ring onto your finger and leaving a delicate kiss over the digit. "Thank goodness you said yes. That would make for some awkward conversation when Gideon comes over tomorrow."
A breathy laugh escaped your lips, pulling him in for a long and romantic kiss. This time, Spencer was on your tongue, an engagement ring was on your finger, and love was in the air. And again, your stomach did absolute somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.
