#fitz grant

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 ;)