Work Text:
There it was, nestled on a sunflower, a diamond ring. You blinked at it, convinced you were hallucinating. No fucking way.
"Baby, have some mercy on my old man knees. How long you gonna keep me down here?" He looked triumphant, the little shit. But your heart swooped at the sight of his lopsided smile, belly contracting with want at the way his broad shoulders filled out that t-shirt. For how devout the position was, Joel Miller always managed to look sinful on his knees.
You should have known he would propose. Maria even took you out to get your nails done a few days ago, but you hadn't thought much of it because... well, the Miller boys always looked after their girls. There was no way you could have suspected it would be today, he had slept in this morning. Then he had grumbled through breakfast and groaned through getting ready. He was just as dramatic as his daughters.
You had been the one to insist on going out today to buy a few pumpkins for some fall activities with the girls. The local sunflower farm was selling them, so you dragged Joel to see the flowers too. Even as he had led you to the low picnic table hidden in a corner of the field surrounded by sunflowers, you had thought you were about to trespass on some private date or event— until he got down on his knee beside you...
It was only a few months ago, you were sitting at your vanity going through your night time skin routine while Joel admired you from the bed that you had broached the topic with a false, contrived sort of casualness. Your heart had been in your throat when you'd told him that he was it for you.
I don't want you to feel under pressure or anything, but I'm kind of silly in love with you. I see us together for the rest of time, Joel. I think I'd really love being your wife, if that's what you wanted— not like immediately, of course, but whenever you're ready... cause I'm there.
Your vision blurred with tears and you wanted to curse at yourself for being such a crybaby. You hadn't wanted to miss a single moment of this proposal— not when his dark honey eyes had the same feverish, possessive glint in them as he had the night he made love to you, whispering filthy words of devotion into your skin as he called you his wife.
"Will you marry me, Darlin'?" He coaxed. You gave him sharp, stuttered nods as you grasped for his shoulders, your hands bunching into his t-shirt to pull him closer.
As the evening grew colder, you were warmed by the giddy joy in your heart and a belly full of love and the mishappen sandwiches your daughters had packed. Joel's large hand wrapped around your ankle in a familiar, comforting gesture before sensually sneaking up your calves, his fingers dug into the soft, pliant flesh of your thighs.
You would find your back flat against the cold autumn ground, the sunflowers turned away from you shyly as you whimpered and mewed while Joel miller rutted into you— desperately trying to be quiet as you fall apart on your husband's cock. Decades later, you would remember the evening sun setting behind him, his massive form back-lit by the golden rays and that ring on your finger glistening as you clutched onto his broad shoulders along with the scent of sunflowers laced with the musk of sex. And the sweet, sweet taste of his kisses.