Work Text:
When you marry John something in the back of your mind knows there’s something else — someone else. But he’s perfect, attentive, a man you want to spend the rest of your life with, which you hadn’t thought possible after your history of exes. It's not the game changer it should be. So you decide you'll accept it. You only have one rule. Never in the bed you share.
John holds your gaze when you tell him.
He agrees, and you don't let yourself linger on thoughts of him with another woman. You say yes when he asks you to marry him before the year is out, agree to a small wedding, as long as you get to decide on the venue.
It's perfect.
You just don't think about her.
And when John is home, he's the perfect husband. He brings you home gifts, you have dates, and it doesn't get stale. He lets you plan dinners out at nice restaurants, goes to book signings with you and lets you tell him all about the series on the way over. His team's a big part of his life and while John never goes into detail, would never share confidential information, it's lovely to hear your husband talk about his men. And Kate. You'd even had a dinner with his friend and her wife, happy to meet one of the people who it seemed like belonged to a different world.
It was harder to get the boys to your house, John said, but he told you about them. Gaz, Johnny, Nik, Simon. His boys, his brothers in arms, and oldest friend. You can tell how much they all mean to him, with how he focuses on each day Gaz getting sharper, quicker, likely soon to take his place and put him into an early retirement. But he smiles when he says it. Simon's becoming more like his old self, it sounds like, and whatever that man was like, John's proud of him. Happy for what they've been able to accomplish within his team. And despite Johnny's rash nature, how he could snap, he was smart kid. Smarter than he let himself get credit for. It reminded you of that Discworld novel. "You are my little lads and I will look after you." And John looked after you too.
Whenever there was talk of Nik, his voice took a fondness, a care, that made you love the man. You didn't ask solely about him, didn't think there was a preference, but there was something about when John talked about him, something that made you smile, had your hand reaching for his, and turning to kiss the corner of his lips.
You're a year and a half into your marriage, when John comes back from his a job, something different. You can't put your finger on it, a stiffness to his spine that coupled with the furrow of his brow makes your stomach twist. The air feels tense and every time you open your mouth to offer comfort, the words twist together on your tongue.
He excuses himself after dinner, and for the first time in years you think about her. There's a pit in your stomach as you think about how she can make him feel better when you can't. For the first time in a long time, you felt small. Being with John had never made you feel small before. Not like other relationships, not like how your grandmother always shushed you.
You don't mean to bite through the inside of your lip but the hot coppery liquid has you rushing to the bathroom to dab the wound, try and keep it dry as possible.
Waking up to an empty bed with John's home is foreign. He was here, but not here, with you.
He comes home half a week later, the weight off his shoulders. He twines his fingers with yours, sliding between you and the cushion of the sofa as he seems to slump against you. His lips trail up your neck as he finally opens up about his boys. It'd been a rough one. It had gone ass over teakettle right at the end, and he'd just needed time. He'd gone to see Nik, he promises as his hand slides up your old uni shirt and you want desperately to believe him. When his other hand slides into the front of your sleep shorts, rough finger parting your folds to expertly strum at your clit, you find yourself nodding as he tells you how perfect you are, how wet your cunt felt to his fingers, always so ready for him. How he didn't deserve you.
You let him fuck you without a condom, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your right hip at the angle you have to bend to get him inside you just right, nails scratching into his back. Like you're trying to remind everyone he's yours.
He helps you into his shirt, carries you to bed and kisses your jaw, your neck, your shoulders as you drift off. His cologne was heavy on it, rich but sharp. Had he gotten a new one? You press your face against it as you curl up, feeling his hands slide beneath it, pushing it high enough so he could hook your leg over his comfortably, hand warm on your sore hip, massaging it as he fucks into you one more time.
Of course, the next day he's called back in. Leaving before you're even fully awake, just barely aware of his lips on yours as he grouses about work.
No rest for the wicked, luv.
You try and tell him you love him as you drift back to sleep.
That night you hold his shirt to your nose as you desperately fuck yourself with your favorite dildo, already missing John. Because he hadn't really even been home.
He's quiet again when he returns home, scent almost completely replaced with your own. It'd just been him, Gaz, and Nik. But Gaz'd gotten nicked. John rubs his thumb across your shoulder as he kisses your spine. Nik always stayed cool under pressure, could reel his brain back. His thick fingers slide through the mess of cum and your own release as he plays with your swelling clit. He tells you he doesn't know if he'd be able to keep it together if it weren't for you. His home.
It's so easy to listen as his scent washes over you again. Spiced and deep. Even though none of his bottles smelled like it.
You hold onto his shoulders as you ride him once more before bed. Part of you praying this time you'll get pregnant. Have something to remind him that if you were his, he was yours.
That night he says he has some paperwork left at base, but he's made a dinner reservation. Wants it to be a surprise. John lays out the red dress he'd asked you to marry him in, and you giggle, kiss him eagerly as you tell him you can't wait.
The work day can't go fast enough. It seems like every stupid problem someone else had put off had reared their ugly heads just to bite you in the ass. The only thing that gets you through the day is the thought of dinner.
When you finally finishing doing your make up after fighting with your contacts – how had one flipped behind your eyelid? They hadn't done that since you were a sloppy teen just trying to jab them in and get to school – you wrap your dress together and freeze as you stare at yourself in the mirror.
Two years and your tits threaten to spill out, soft stomach a little softer since the last time you'd worn it. Tilting your hips, you try to stand straighter, poised.
What if she looked better?
You can't get the dress off fast enough, face burning as you find a black cocktail dress that doesn't threaten to flash anyone. A small touch up to your eyeshadow and the car John had sent for you had arrived.
“I was hoping you’d wear the red dress,” John greets, placing a light kiss to your temple.
When you’d been leaning to give him a kiss.
Your throat feels tight as you drop your eyes, murmur that it hadn't fit right. When he raises a brow, you pretend you don't see to focus on examining the menu. Which is when you notice the third seat at your table.
“I don’t want to meet anyone, John” you whisper, nails digging into your palms as you glance up at him. Pleading. You can’t do this if this is when he introduces you to the other woman. The one he must have been with before you’d met him. The one who he went to when you weren't enough. You can't handle this today, and you desperately don’t want to cry in public.
When John reaches for your hand, you instinctively draw back, elbow connecting with another patron's thigh and hot embarrassment is burning your face as you turn to apologize.
The large man flashes you a toothy grin, and you can only blink owlishly up at him as he shakes John's hand before pulling him into a brief hug. When his attention turns towards you again, you quickly blink back your tears as he kisses your hand before leaning in to kiss each cheek. You can still feel heat in your cheeks as John introduces you to Nik, clenching your thighs together as his cologne stays with you. Rich and spicy with a sharp citrus.
Nik coos, praises you when you talk about your work and you know you should stop after your third glass of wine, but his presence is so comforting. And John is laughing by your side, kissing your neck so gently that you almost want to call it a night to let your husband fuck your brains out.
But Nik is...captivating.
A hand inches up the skirt of your dress and it take a moment before you realize John's on the wrong side for that.
When you jump a little in your seat, John hushes you gently, mustache and beard tickling as he whispers into your ear. About how good you are, how long he's wanted to introduce you to Nik but it was never the right time. But now you finally had and they could share you. You were a good girl who knew how to share, didn't you?
And finally you understood.
Nik's face is buried in your pussy as John keeps your thighs open, knees hooked under yours and hips gently rocking in unison with the other man's movements. You can't help but throw your head back in a moan as two thick fingers take his tongue's place, curling just right and expertly finding that soft spongy spot inside of you that made your thighs quake, his nose nudging against your clit.
“So good for me, luv, can see how good you are for him, too,” the deep voice of your husband rumbles against your back as you stutter moans, hips bucking against the dark hair man's mouth.
Between your parted thighs, Nik hums agreements against the stretched rim of your cunt.
His fingers stretch, and you don't think you've orgasmed that fast in your life, crying out desperately as you thrust against Nik's mouth, his fingers, lost in the feeling of John's chest against your back as another man greedily laps at your release.
The realization that you just came because a man other than your husband, who was so tenderly holding you in his arms, lips on your shoulders as Nik idly strokes your inside so gently.
“'m sorry,” you moan softly, turning to kiss John's cheek, “didn't mean to come so fast, baby.”
If John minds, he doesn't show it. His lips meet yours before his eyes drop, before he pulls away.
Your confusion is short lived as Nik kisses your other shoulder, pulling your own attention away from your husband before you tiredly notice his raised hand, fingers wet with your come, brought to John's mouth.
“So good for us, your pretty little wife,” his accent seems thicker, or maybe that's just a trick of your brain and he's always sounded this delicious.
“So good,” John moans around the fingers dragging across his tongue.
You don't think you'd ever seen anything so hot, and instinctively you lean forward, tongue joining John's as you lap at Nik's thick digits.
Behind you, he groans low, and John takes the opportunity to find your tongue.
When Nik pulls back, you moan at the loss, confusion furrowing your brows before the Russian cradles the back of your head, easily moving you so that his lips met yours, other hand creeping back down your sides, between your legs. “Be good for me, yes, sweet girl?”
“But John-” You start weakly, trying to turn back to your husband before he finally takes the opportunity to push your dress down, exposing your tits as you arch back against him, palming eagerly against you.
“Oh, don't you worry, luv, you be Nik's good girl, he's waited a long time for his turn,” John's words send an immediate jolt of pleasure to your core, face warming before you nod, kissing his chin before you turn back to Nik.
He wastes no time laying you out beside John, propping your hips up with a pillow as he eases your legs higher, settling down heavily behind your thighs. When you try to peak down, to get a good look at his cock, he buries himself in you to the hilt, knocking the air from your lungs in a gasp. A moan stutters out from your lips, before your teeth clamp down, face burning in embarrassment at the airy sound that he'd fucked out of you.
It had been so long since you'd been with someone other than your husband, or your toys. Nik’s cock was shorter than John’s but thicker, stretching you out just right as he ground against your swollen clit.
Another moan escaped as he immediately began to thrust into you, steady rhythm using his weight to make each movement feel deeper than the last.
“S- so good, fuck, Nik, you feel so good,” each word followed the rock of his body against your, punctuated by his balls slapping against your ass, sounding wetter and wetter each time. The gold chain he'd left on bobbed against your throat as his fingers wound themselves in your hair.
Just as his lips curl up, dark eyes darker somehow as he gazed down at you.
“Do you want me to cum in her? Fuck her so full there's no way I won't give her a fat baby? You want me to knock your pretty wife up, John? Raise my baby as your own?” His voice is thick as grins down at you.
Whatever he was cooing down to you couldn’t even begin to imagine, as he briefly pulled back, out, so he could wrap your legs around his waist, thick arm sliding beneath your ass to bring you closer to him with each snap of his hips. You’re too focused on the short, quick rhythm his thrusts have taken. His fat balls are slapping against your ass each time your pussy sloppily takes him back inside of you. While he toys with your left nipple, he latches onto your right, making you moan. Your hips are frantically meeting his as you curl your fingers in his thick hair.
“Yes, say yes for me, luv,” John’s voice startles you, causing the both of you to moan as you instinctively clench down on the thick cock you’re currently spread on. Nodding along, you tilt your hips so that Nik hits that lovely spot inside of you, his entire dick spearing you just right.
“Yes,” you begin to chant immediately, “yes, yes, yes, please Nik, fuck, so good.”
A shriek of a moan slips free as Nik's bites gently into your stiff nipple, hips jerking flush against his as you climax, legs wrapping tightly around his own, keeping him firmly against you as your orgasm crashes down on you, hot spurts filling you as Nik begins to empty his churning balls into you.
His weight presses you firmly to the mattress as you sleepily smile up at John. “Love you,” your words are heavy, hips idly rocking against Nik's.
“Love you too, darlin',” John's tongue darts out to wet his lips, blue eyes so dark as his grin spreads. “Happy anniversary, Nik.”