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So you gon get on Fitz anytime soon or are you just playing 😭😭
Oh I'm getting on Fitz alright. I don't ever play.
☆Fitzgerald Grant x Fem!reader
☆Word Count: 3K
☆CW: Fingering, unprotected sex. P in V. Smut with a plot. No use of Y/N. No description of bodytype. kinda ansty? Established relationship.
☆Authors note: Hey so if nobody reads this I'm deleting!
Summary: Reader gets jealous when Fitz does an interview with a flirty reporter. Gets angry that Fitz won't announce that he isn't single following his divorce with Mellie.
MDNI
Masterlist
You're Mine
Ever since he announced his divorce with Mellie, it was a little hard on the both of you. You didn’t want the media… no the country… to be in your business. It would be an understatement to say you were jealous when the reporter flirted with him during a nationally broadcasted interview. You sat in the executive residence watching it unfold on the TV, legs crossed and remote in your hand. You didn’t like when what was yours was desired by others. It made you seethe.
He loosens his tie as he walks in the room, he freezes as he sees you sitting at the edge of his bed
“…You’re in my bedroom,” he says, voice low, careful.
“Our bedroom…” you correct him.
“What happened?”
You tilt your head, like you’re considering the question.
“I watched a press briefing today.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s not unusual.”
“No,” you agree softly. “It wasn’t.”
His brows lift slightly. “You’ve been busy avoiding me all day.”
“And you’ve been busy entertaining reporters,” you reply.
His jaw tightens immediately. “That’s what this is about?”
You don’t answer right away, but you take a slow step toward him. He watches you carefully now.
“You let her flirt with you,” you say.
“I didn’t—”
“You didn’t stop it,” you cut in, voice sharper now. “You stood there and let her… rub herself on you.”
Fitz exhales, already shaking his head. “It was a press briefing and she was being friendly. It didn’t mean anything,” he says, quieter now.
But you’re already closing the distance between you two. “You’re mine.”
The words leave your mouth before you can think about it. You reach for him, grabbing his tie, pulling him down just enough to meet your gaze. His expression flickers to something along the lines of desperation and hunger.
“You don’t get to be jealous,” he says, voice low. “Not when you won’t even let me…”
“I am with you,” you snap.
“In private,” he fires back immediately. “Behind closed doors. Where no one can see you choose me.”
Your grip tightens on his tie.
“And you think I don’t choose you?”
“I think you’re afraid to.”
You push him back slightly to create space. “I watched her look at you like you were available,” you say, quieter now but no less intense. “Like she could just take something that’s mine.”
Fitz lets out a breath, something in him breaking open at that. “You don’t claim me,” he says. “Not where it matters.”
“So that means you get to act like you’re not taken?” you shoot back.
His shoulders drop and his gaze softens before he steps closer again. “I didn’t want her,” he says quietly. “I don’t notice anyone like that when you’re in my life.”
Your expression falters for a second. “You didn’t act like it.”
“I acted like someone who’s not allowed to have you,” he says. “I acted like someone who has to pretend he’s alone.”
Your grip loosens on his tie just slightly. Fitz’s hand comes up, resting gently over yours where it holds his tie.
“Look at me.”
You don’t want to but when you do…the second your eyes meet his, he gives in completely.
He drops right to his knees.
Your breath catches.
“Fitz…what are you—”
“I’m sorry.” He looks up at you like you’re something he can’t afford to lose. “I should’ve shut it down,” he says. “I should’ve made it clear. I should’ve…” His hands slide to your waist, holding you there. “I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a place where you do.”
Your anger wavers momentarily. “You don’t get to just fix this like that,” you say, but your voice isn’t as steady now.
“I’m not trying to fix it,” he says. “I’m trying not to lose you over something that meant nothing to me.”
His forehead presses lightly against you. “I’m yours.”
Your fingers twitch at your sides.
“You don’t act like it,” you whisper.
“Tell me how,” he says immediately.
“What?”
“Tell me how to prove it,” he says, looking up at you again. “Because I will.” There’s something almost unfair about the way he looks right now. And you hate how much it affects you.
“I wanted you to move away from her,” you admit quietly. “I wanted you to look uncomfortable. I wanted her to know she couldn’t have you.”
Fitz nods. “Okay.”
Your brows pull together. “Okay?”
“Next time, I’ll make it obvious,” he says. “I’ll step back. I’ll shut it down. I’ll make sure she, and everyone else knows I’m not available. But whose fault is it that you have to pretend what we aren’t?” he adds softly.
You swallow.
“I can’t be public,” you say.
Fitz studies you for a long moment and instead of arguing he nods slowly.
“Then I’ll meet you where you are.”
“What?”
“I don’t like it,” he admits. “I don’t like hiding you. But I’d rather have you like this than not have you at all.”
Of course he would say that. Of course he would choose you anyway. Your hand finally lifts, brushing lightly through his hair absent-mindedly forgiving without saying the words. His eyes close for a second at the touch with relief.
“You’re still mine,” you murmur.
His hands tighten slightly at your waist.
“Always.”
Then he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss just below your ribs. You inhale sharply, fingers tightening slightly in his hair.
“Fitz…”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs again, softer this time.
And you are still mad. You are. But he looks at you like that and you feel it slipping.
“You’re insufferable,” you whisper.
His lips curve faintly against you. “And you’re not leaving.”
“…no.”
That’s all he needs.
He stands slowly, hands still on you, eyes searching your face and when you don’t pull away this time he leans in. You don’t stop him.
He was quick to peel his shirt off, lips still connected to yours in a rough kiss. Tongue down your throat, hands cupping your face. He moved to unbutton your shirt, then un-clasp your bra. He pushes you onto the bed and starts fumbling with his belt. He lifts you up taking you over to the bed laying you on your back. You let out a soft moan as he bites your lip and kisses your face. He kisses his way down to your neck leaving love marks and a trail.
Then he cups your breast with his right hand and kisses the other playing with your nipple with his tongue. You run your hands through his hair and arch your back slightly so he can take your breast into his mouth. His hands moved to unzip your skirt and pull it off. He kissed down your belly to your panties, and kissed through the delicate fabric and before toying with the lace pulling it off slowly, kissing up your thigh. When he reaches your clit with his tongue he toys with it a little before using his fingers and his thumb.
“Wow, so wet for me," he says, head buried between your thighs.
He edges you with his fingers, thumb circling circling your clit as his middle and ring finger makes slow movements inside your pussy, hitting your spot. You clench his hair tighter and your walls squelch against his fingers but before you reach your climax, he pulls his fingers out sucking your juices off of them. He looks up at you smiling before pulling his pants all the way off and flips you over so you're on top straddling him. He runs his hands along the edges of your body, fingers trailing the lines of your spine.
You lower yourself onto him slowly, teasing yourself with his tip before engulfing his full length and you both let out a synchronized groan. You are still angry at him but he bottoms you out and you begin to bounce on his cock. His hands gripping your hips to steady you as you started to grind on top of him.
“Are you going to fuck me angry?” He breathes out slowly. You groan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an answer and you continue to roll your hips against his finding a steady rhythm and you feel his cock throbbing inside your pussy.
“Jesus Christ, slow down” he manages to groan out in a huff.
Your eyes roll back and you try to use your hands to steady yourself by placing them on his shoulder. His head leans back against the headboard and continues to moan as your skin slaps against his.
Fitz starts thrusting his hips up against yours in an effort to chase his high, cock brushing against your g-spot. His face morphes into a smirk as he watches your facial expression. Your scrunched eyebrows, your mouth slightly open in a gasp, your eyes closed and your head thrown back. His hands slithered from your hip down between your legs to rub your clit again trying to tip you over.
“Right there” you said as you continued to ride him furiously for a few more minutes.
“Such a good girl” he breathes in your ear. “I want you to come for me” You tip forward leaning against him, face hiding between the crook of his neck. You let out a groan as you come undone pussy squelching against his dick your hips slow down its rhythm and Fitz follows right after you. He chuckled at the mess on his lap and thighs, your face tear stained from the sensation, your legs wobbling and trembling by his sides.
The grip on his shoulder loosens as you melt into his chest. Not quite sure if it is exhaustion from the sex or exhaustion from being angry but nevertheless he lifts you off of his lap and moves to get a towel to clean you up.
“Do you need to pee baby?” he says softly. You nod and Fitz slips on a Navy t-shirt over your body before you wobble over to the bathroom. When you're done and you enter the room again he’s already changed the sheets and was laying in bed waiting for you. You collapse on top of him and close your eyes not wanting to say anything more before sleep takes over you.
Morning comes softly, the curtains are drawn just enough to let light slip through in thin, golden lines. You’re awake before him like you usually are. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of it all settle back in now that the heat of last night has cooled down.
You listen to the soft snore bedside you, his one arm draped over your waist feeling heavy. You shift slightly but his grip tightens instantly.
“…don’t,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
You glance over. His eyes are still closed, brows faintly drawn like he’s deep in thought.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly.
“You say that.” He opens his eyes slowly, gaze finding yours almost immediately. For a moment, neither of you speak. His hand moves slightly against your side, thumb brushing absent-mindedly.
“You’re still here,” he says, more to himself than to you.
“I said I would be.”
“Until when?”
The question is quiet. You look away first because you don’t have an answer he’d like. His arm slowly pulls back, “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says after a moment, voice more awake now, more guarded. “I just…”
“You did,” you interrupt gently.
He goes quiet because he did. You sit up slowly, pulling the sheet with you, creating distance where there wasn’t any just seconds ago. Fitz watches you, something unreadable settling into his expression.
“You always leave in the morning,” he says.
“I have things to do.”
“So do I.”
You glance back at him. He’s sitting up now, the morning grogginess replaced with something more presidential. “Yet somehow,” he continues, “I’m not the one rushing out the door.”
Your jaw tightens slightly. “That’s not fair.”
“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”
You swing your legs off the bed, reaching for your clothes without looking at him. “You said you’d meet me where I am,” you remind him.
“I did.”
“Then don’t start acting like…”
“Like I want more?” he cuts in.
Fitz lets out a quiet breath, running a hand through his hair. “I do want more,” he says. “That didn’t change overnight.” You turn to face him now.
“And I told you I can’t give you that.”
“And I told you I’d accept that,” he replies. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t…”
He stops himself but you hear it anyway. It hurts him. You soften lightly.
“I’m still here, Fitz.”
“For now.”
You exhale slowly. “You knew what this was.”
“I thought I did.”
Fitz swings his legs off the bed, standing now, but he doesn’t come closer, his hands on the hip of his boxers.
“I thought I could live with it,” he says. “With the waiting. With the silence. With pretending you’re not mine when the rest of the world is watching. But last night…” he continues, “you looked at me like you were going to walk away.”
You swallow. “I wasn’t.”
“You always say that,” he says.
“I don’t know how to do this differently.”
Fitz watches you for a long moment. Then, finally, he steps closer. “I don’t need different,” he says quietly. “I just need you to stop acting like this is temporary.”
Your brows pull together. “It’s not temporary.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m the only one afraid of losing it?”
“I’m afraid of what happens if it isn’t right,” you admit “I could lose myself, Fitz.” He doesn’t interrupt this time. “You could lose me,” you add.
His jaw tightens. “I already feel like I am.”
You step closer now, lifting your hand, brushing against his chest. “I’m trying,” you say softly.
“I know.” His hand comes up, covering yours. “But I don’t know how long I can keep pretending this is enough.”
“What does that mean?” you ask.
Fitz exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.“It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No, you said you’d meet me where I am.”
“I am,” he insists. “I have been. But I…”
“But you’re tired of it,” you cut in sharply.
“I’m not asking you to change overnight. I’m asking you to stop acting like I don’t matter the second you walk out that door.”
“That’s not what I do.”
“It is,” he says. “You leave, and suddenly I’m just…what? A secret you visit when it’s convenient? I don’t think you trust me,” he says.
“That’s not fair…Maybe this was a mistake,” you say.
You grab your things quickly, because if you slow down, you might not leave at all.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
You don’t look at him. “Somewhere away from you."
You head for the door and for a second you think he might stop you.
Call your name, pull you back, say something that makes you stay. But he doesn’t.
The world doesn’t feel different. People are still talking, laughing, moving around you. The bell above the café door chimes softly as someone walks in. You’re seated by the window, coffee in hand, untouched for the past ten minutes. The TV hums in the background, low enough to ignore and you almost do.
“…breaking developments out of the White House today involving President Fitzgerald Grant…”
Your gaze drifts toward the screen with curiosity.
The reporter continues:
“Sources confirm that the President is currently in a private relationship, one that has been kept out of the public eye until now. While the identity of the individual remains undisclosed, insiders describe the relationship as serious.”
“Oh.” The word leaves your mouth quietly.
A woman at the next table leans forward, interested. Someone else turns the volume up slightly.
“Following his divorce from Mellie Grant, this marks the first confirmed romantic involvement for the President.”
You hum softly under your breath, set your cup down and reach for your phone. You just… dial his number and he picks up on the first ring.
“Hey.” His voice careful like he already knows why you’re calling.
You lean back in your chair, gaze still fixed on the TV.
“You confirmed it.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “…I did.”
You nod slightly, “Okay.”
“That’s it?” he asks.
Your brow lifts faintly.
“What else would you like me to say?”
There’s a shift in his breathing.
Something unsettled.
“I thought you’d be…”
“Upset?” you finish for him.
You shrug lightly, even though he can’t see it.
“I was upset yesterday. When you let that reporter flirt with you like you didn’t belong to anyone. But this?” you continue, glancing back at the screen. “This fixes that.”
“…fixes it?” he repeats.
“You don’t look single anymore,” you say simply.
“I didn’t name you,” he says carefully.
“I noticed.”
“No one knows it’s you.”
“I noticed that too.”
“I did it for you,” he says after a moment.
You tilt your head slightly.
“For me?”
“So no one else would think they had a chance,” he explains. “So you wouldn’t have to feel like that again.”
“…well,” you say finally, “it worked.”
“Say something else,” he presses.
Your brows knit faintly. “Like what? I’m not angry, Fitz,” you say softly. “If that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Is that enough for you?” He asks. You look out the window now, watching people pass by like your life isn’t currently being discussed on national television.
“For now,” you say.
“For now,” he repeats.
Your grip tightens slightly on your phone.“I have to go,” you say gently.
“Already?”
You nod, even though he can’t see it.“I have things to do.”
You pull the phone away slightly, thumb hovering over the screen.
“Fitz?”
“Yeah?”
“You handled it well,” you say before hanging up the phone. A small smile appeared on your face as you brought the coffee cup to your lips.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rights to any characters mentioned nor do I consent to plagiarism of any kind. Thankyou for reading loves ;)
Whomever wanted this... i hope you're happy. Stayed up all night for ya. Glad I'm not the only one with a Fitz obsession lol.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
pairing: president fitzgerald grant x manager!reader
summary: you’re one of the hardest-working staffers in the White House, constantly pushing yourself to keep everything running smoothly, even when it means sacrificing your own well-being. The pressure begins wearing on President Fitzgerald Grant, and he begins taking his frustration out on you, snapping and going off on you. When you suddenly take off without warning, he storms out of the White House and heads straight to your apartment.
warnings: overstepping boundaries, slight enemies to lovers, adult toys mentioned, profanity, choking, pure smut, unprotected sex, dominating, manhandling, moaning, begging, nipple sucking, breast play, slight hickey tease (territorial), orgasm, creampie, etc.
note: we have never written a President Fitzgerald Grant smut, but since we’ve been catching up with the Netflix show “Scandal”, we felt like the least we could do for our long absence of gift you a President Fitzgerald Grant smut.
as always, please feel free to send in requests as we continue our wiring journey. we’re still working on other stories, so stay tuned.
———
Working for the White House hadn’t been in your thoughts until your work was recognized. Speaking against the president should’ve made you an enemy, but your feist made Cyrus need you.
The government needed someone like you. You’re is rarely afraid of people, especially people who could never be on the same entlegen level as yourself.
For months, everything had been working well at work until President Fitzgerald Grant became a ticking time bomb. Every small issue seemed like a major issue to him, but even more so when those issues involved you.
Tonight, you had called off the last few hours of your shift due to the stress and attitude of the president. At first, you felt like you could handle it until President Grant became hostile.
The president started ordering you to his office just so that he could yell at you. Most of his yelling never lined up or made sense, but if you argued back too much, you would probably get fired.
“You really think you have a leash on me, huh? Y/n, I’ll make your life a living hell if you ever- and I mean ever disrespect me again.”
You hadn’t even started your usual routine today. All you did was tell Cyrus that the president needed to cool off before he went out to speak in front of the press. He didn’t like that, so he made sure to say that to your face.
Something in President Grant had changed. He tried to ignore your smart remarks and always thought you were right, but after a while, he snapped. You had no right to come in and work him like some toy.
“And, y/n is where?” President Grant asked Cyrus as he looked around the table, seeing you were not in sight. “She had taken off the last few hours, sir. Which is probably for the best because-“ before Cyrus could end his sentence, President Grant cut him off.
“What!?” was all he said; his facial expression already seemed heated. Everyone has seen President Grant upset, but anytime the issue is about you, the anger is unbelievable.
“What? — What’s the party, sir?” Cyrus asked, looking around the table to see if he had missed anything. “What do you mean y/n took off towards the end of the day when she is needed most?” President Grant said, trying to keep himself together.
“I- Well, I don’t know, sir. She just said she wasn’t feeling well, and I personally think having her out of the way tonight is well needed-“
“Tom! I need a car up and running -- ASAP,” President Grant said as he got up and out of his chair. “Wait- Sir? Sir, where are you going?” Chris asked, but received no answer back.
As always, Cyrus shook the president off and continued to handle everything on his own.
“Coming!” You shouted as you jumped out of your bed, confused about who could be at your front door this late. You had taken a shower, eaten, and watched a movie before deciding to lie down and relax like an adult for the night.
“Y/n, open this damn door!” You heard President Grant shout from outside your front door. “President? What are you doing here?” Y/n shouted back as she quickly wrapped herself up in her silk robe.
“Just open the goddam door!”
You rolled your eyes, instantly growing upset at the fact that the president was at your front door, demanding to come into your home. This was the only space you felt peace in, and now he could ruin that peace whenever he wanted.
“What do you want-“ you tried saying as you opened the door, but President Grant quickly pushed the door open, shut it, then locked it behind him like he owned your apartment.
“Fitz, what the hell!” You shouted, lifting your arms up in anger as he turned around. “Oh, now you want to call me by my name? When I asked you to do so when you first started working for me, you refused. What happened now? You’re angry?”
You looked up at the man, your face filled with mixed emotions as you tried to process why he was acting this way and why he was here.
Leaving the White House is a huge hassle. Coming to your apartment can cause political problems. Him being here is a major issue, and for some reason, he doesn’t seem to care.
“Why are you here? — You traveled all the way across town to sneak up and into my apartment? You couldn’t just call? You know how bad this can turn out!?” You try to get through his head.
“What is so bad about checking up on a friend?” President Grant said, as if that were the reason he stormed over here. “Friend? Fitz, we are not friends. I work for you, and you boss me around. I would never be friends with someone who yells at me for a living.”
Both of you stood in silence for a few seconds before President Grant, now Fitz because you are upset, started taking his long coat off.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You asked as he looked around, trying to find something. “Hello? Fitz, what are you doing?” You asked again, trying to make eye contact with him, but he continued looking around.
“Where is your coat hanger? Usually, people have one in front of the door, but it seems like you’re a shoe collector,” Fitz said as he scanned your shelf full of shoes.
“I don’t have one, because I don’t like people coming over. I usually put my jackets right into my closet, which is in my room, and you are not-“
You knew you shouldn’t have told him the location of your jackets, but you did anyway. Now, Fritz is on his way towards your room, reason to hang up his coat like he lived in your apartment.
“Fitz? Fitz, wait, you can’t just go in my room,” you dragged as you followed him, not realizing what was left out on your bed until you entered her room. That’s when you quickly covered your mouth and looked at him, but thankfully, he was too focused on your closet.
“Fitz, you have to leave,” you said, trying to stay calm, but your heart was pounding unbearably hard. “Why? I’m just being respectful,” Fitz said like he was the most polite person y/n had ever encountered. What happened to his loud voice back outside of her front door...
“Mr. President — Please, I would like you to exit my property, or else I’ll have to-“ you tried saying, but he quickly cut you off. “Or else you’ll have to what? Call the authorities? Sweetheart, did you forget who I am? They work for me.”
You stood in silence for a few more seconds once again, upset at how cocky he was.
“Can we at least move to my living room? I can’t make you a glass of wine, and-“ you tried to say, but he kept cutting you off. “Why?” Fitz asked, looking down at you as you did your best to avoid eye contact and try not to make what was behind you obvious.
“I don’t know- I just thought our conversation should happen in a more lighter setting? My room is kind of dark and dirty because I was just about to sleep,” you lied, almost missing his smirk.
“I don’t think you care about a dirty room. I think you care about that incredible collection of toys. Shins you,” Fitz said as he moved past you as you stayed in place, shocked.
“I know the people who work for me have lives, but fucking hell, y/n. This is something I’ve never seen before- How do you even find these? Are these in stores?” Fitz asked as he looked at your toys, which were different sizes, colors, shapes, and just completely different than normal adult toys.
“Fitz, can we please leave my room? This is an invasion of my privacy, and I feel uncomfortable that the president of the United States of America is picking up my toys like they’re up for auction!” You gradually grew angry as you snatched two toys out of his hand and threw them to the side.
“I personally don’t think it’s that embarrassing. We’re all adults.” Fitz turned to you, trying to keep a smirk, but he eventually started laughing. He had just processed how embarrassed you must be and that you, out of all people, are kinky.
“Okay, that’s enough- Tom!” You shouted as you went to turn around and get the president's security, but Fitz grabbed your upper arm to stop you and turn you back towards him.
“C’mon- Don’t be like that. We all have secrets of our own, but y/n, I must admit — This is very unexpected,” Fitz chuckled, making you pull away, but he kept his grip on you as you complained.
“Fitz, let me go- I’m not playing, okay? Let me go — Let me go!” You ended up shouting, but he never let you go as you wished. He kept his grip on you as he continued to stare down at you like none of this affected him.
“Why did you leave today?” Fitz asked, eyes now burning through yours. It’s like he had gotten serious all of a sudden. “I needed a break, and that still applies to late night in my apartment, so can you please leave?” You answer.
“You didn’t tell me. You just left me and didn’t say anything. What if Cyrus didn’t keep up? Did you even check out? It’s dangerous if you didn’t. That violates our code,” Fitz said, now all of a sudden turning into who he really is.
“I did everything by the book, Mr. President. Now, can you let me go and get out of my apartment?” You said. “No,” was all he replied, face still dry and serious as his grip tightened on your arm.
“What the hell is your problem? I deserve to have some privacy without you thinking you can constantly treat me however you want. This is unfair, and if you don’t let me go, I’ll-“
“You’ll what? You’ll what, y/n!? Tell me what you’ll be doing to the president of the United States of America if he doesn’t leave your apartment,” Fitz shouted in your face, making you feel small.
You stayed silent. You wanted to speak, but instead, you stayed silent. What were you supposed to say? You didn’t even know how you were going to finish your sentence in the first place.
“That’s what I thought,” Fitz said before egging go up arm go with a small shove. “Now, before you speak another word, I want you on your back, robe off,” Fitz said as he began unbuttoning his shirt.
Your eyes instantly widened, and your heart instantly dropped at his request.
“What?” You said in confusion. “Already disappointed, but it’s okay. I know you’ll make up for it,” Fitz said as he started unbuckling his belt from his dress pants. You instantly turned around, feeling like this should be illegal.
“Mr. President, what are you doing? I-If you want me to leave, I-I can do so,” you said as you went to leave, but that was the last thing Fitz wanted from you. “No — I want you right here and on the bed like I demanded a few seconds ago.”
Fitz quickly grabbed you again and threw you onto your bed. The shock that hit you felt unreal until you began to feel hands on you. It was Fitz, unwrapping your robe tie before revealing your naked body.
“I just knew you had nothing underneath. Your body frame fit too well against your silk.”
You wanted to speak, but you went into shock once again as Fitz’s lips began sucking in your neck, soon sucking everywhere until he got to your nipples. He took one of his hands to massage your free breast while his other hand softly gripped your neck.
“F-Fitz,” you cried out as your body felt something it hadn’t felt in years or maybe ever. The shock made every little thing feel like it was new. Your system couldn’t stop spazzing.
“Fitz, please,” you said, feeling your slick grow wet. “Oh my god, Fitz!” you tried to sound more serious after you thought realistically. Fitz is the president of the United States of America, his security is right outside her door, he is a married man, and has children. This wasn’t right in many ways.
“Fitz, we can’t. I can’t,” you tried to say as you wiggled around, but he wouldn’t budge. All he did was move his way up to her face. “And why is that?” He asked, already knowing everything wrong with this, but he didn’t care.
“Oh, let me think. Maybe because you have a wife and three kids!” You shouted, but that didn’t bother Fitz in the slightest. He was a grown man, and most of the time, his decisions didn’t revolve around him being the president.
“Not a good enough reason,” Fitz said before smashing his lips on yours. For a second, you kissed back, but then pushed him back up. “Fitz, that’s a damn good reason,” you said.
“You know me and Mellie aren’t good, and my children couldn’t give a damn if I was with a different woman. Hell, they’d probably celebrate because they hate that Mellie and I are still together, and they really, and I mean really, love you,”
Before you could speak, he smashed his lips back on you to shut you up. He knew everything he had just said would confuse you, so he continued with what he had been angrily waiting to do.
You allowed whatever he wanted, and melted into his kiss. You’d be lying if you said President Grant wasn’t hot. He was one of the hottest presidents, and probably the only decent good looking presidents.
Fitz wanted to take things slow with you, maybe have you come into his office one day and apologize for getting in your way every chance he got, yet tonight had surprised him.
Now that he’s in your bed and on top of your naked body, he couldn’t hold himself back for a better night. He needed you once and for all.
Before you could process Fitz being all on you, you started to feel something hard ride up your thigh. You had thought Fitz kept himself in his pants, but somehow, he had taken himself out.
“Fitz, just wait — Maybe we should think about this for like two seconds,” you said, a little scared of what mistake this could become, but Fitz didn’t care about the outcome of tonight. He knew he’d keep you and his relationship safe and steady after tonight.
“Don’t make me get unprofessional, y/n,” Fitz said, trying to keep that sexual side of him out of reach for the first few times they ended up in this situation, but you were making it hard for him.
“Isn’t this already unprofessional?” You said, clearly catching a fast attitude before coming to your senses again. “You know what? Get the hell out, Fitz, and I meant it-“
You thought Fitz had finally come to his senses as well and began getting up and off of you, but in actuality, he leaned up to line himself up before pushing down into you.
You instantly fell back onto your bed as your legs locked up, your head tilted back, your hands pushed against his pelvis, and your whine struggled to slip from your mouth.
“I just never quite got it, y/n. How can you be so sweet and relaxing one second, and then the next, you’re trying to go against me? Belittle me. Dominate me,” Fitz said, slamming down into her every sentence to drag his shocking size inside of her tight walls.
“I’ll be the only one dominating in this relationship, sweetheart.”
You tried to speak, but every time you tried, your words died in your throat. You would never have thought the president would have a size on him like this and know how to use it.
“Mh hm, that’s all I want to hear from you. All of that talking back is done, or else I’ll have to handle you like this every time. Do you understand me, y/n?”
At first, you wanted to stay stubborn and not answer, but the way he grazed your insides made your mind go wild. It’s almost like he studied your body and knew exactly where everything was.
“Y-Yes,” you struggled to let out, but that wasn’t enough for Fitz. “Ima need to hear a full sentence, sweetheart,” Fitz said, making you whine. It was already hard to moan due to the pressure in your lower stomach. His thrusts were godly.
“C’mon, baby, I know you can’t do it. You’re my girl, and my girl can do anything, okay? So tell me — Do you understand?” Fitz asked once again as one of his hands made its way around your neck to grip while his other pushed down on your waist.
“I-I understand,” y/n cried out, unexpectedly squirting all over the place. Fitz leaned up, keeping his hands in place as he watched you leak beneath him. The sight of him moving in and out of you made everything seem more connected.
“Fuck, y/n- You’re so fucking beautiful,” Fitz breathed out as he began to snap his hips harder and faster. Now, your body jolted as your tits couldn’t stay in place. Everything about the sight of you made him closer to finishing.
“I know this is wrong, but I refuse to let that stop me from getting what I want — I want you, y/n, and after tonight, you will be mine — I’m going to fill you up, and you’ll lay right here and take it every time, okay? Every. Damn. Time,”
Fitz snapped his hips even harder, knocking whatever thoughts out that were left in your head. Your juice and his grunts were the only thing filling the room as your whines grew harder to let out.
Fitz knew he was banging you harder than you could handle, but so what? You’re still enjoying it, and he can tell by the way your feet kick and pussy clenched around his dick.
