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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 month

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01| The Grey Area

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader Summary: You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. Warnings: emotional and physical cheating, forbidden love affair, reader is in government, cm level violence, r is a bitch at first, hotch is a jerk, based on olivia pope and fitzgerald grant Words: 3.8K

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: is this based on scandal by shonda rhimes? yes. why? bc that was peak television. making this a series bc i need to learn how to make things other than long fics (be proud of me).

1989

For as long as you could remember, life was slow. Everything was black and white: your surroundings, your activities, your beliefs.

And then you met Aaron Hotchner, and you started seeing things in colour.

"I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

You barely looked up at the person, just shaking your head and continuing to twirl your pen on your desk. He sat down right after.

You didn't expect him to talk to you. In fact, you were sure your disinterest was written all over your face in bold red letters.

"I'm Aaron. Aaron Hotchner." He held his hand out; you only saw it because he held it over your desk, not because you actually looked in his direction.

You stared at his hand plainly before looking up to the front of the class where the professor had just stood up. "And I'm not interested," you said. Presumptuous of you, maybe, but this was Georgetown, and it was your second year. Everybody was competition, and nobody actually wanted to be your friend unless they were looking for something a little more.

It was like you could hear his frown. "I— we can't be friends?"

Finally, out of just pure exasperation, you looked at him, and boy were you taken aback. Aaron Hotchner, as he so formally introduced himself, had dark, dark brown hair, almost black, and a jawline that wasn't too sharp nor too round. His brown eyes looked at you expectantly, confusion swimming through them. Briefly, you thought he was perfect, but that wouldn't change your stance.

Despite your short-lived awe, you deadpanned, "No, we can't."

Aaron went to open his mouth, but then the professor started speaking and it cut him right off. You looked toward the front and didn't back at him once, listening intently. You were determined to succeed above all things, and no boy would get in the way of that.

Your first lecture of the semester went fine after that. You packed up your things at the end and you were gone before Aaron could try again. You went to one more class then got ready for work without another thought of him.

During nights, you were a bartender at this place near the campus. It wasn't just college kids; it was also frequented by businessmen and other big spenders who tipped well so long as you smiled and laughed at their jokes.

The excessive flirting wasn't ideal, but the job paid the bills, and since you were doing this all by yourself, that was exactly what you needed.

You rarely saw people you knew. There were regulars, and every once in a while you might've seen a kid from one of your classes, but it wasn't something you expected often.

You certainly didn't expect to see the hot guy from Advanced Legal Research.

"Hi there, what can I getcha?" You weren't looking at the customer, busy cleaning a glass and simultaneously passing someone their drink while you spoke to them.

"Hey, you're the girl from my LAW-J 301 course"

You paused at the person's voice, both at their enthusiasm and familiarity, and looked up. When you did, you couldn't help the groan that left you. "Seriously? You, again?" Each word was enunciated slowly, accurately demonstrating your annoyance. However, you got back to what you were doing, taking your eyes off him. "What, are you stalking me, Hopscotch?"

"It's Hotchner."

This time, your sigh was accompanied by a pointed eye roll. "Duuuude." You looked back up. "I do not care. Now, what do you want?"

He snorted. "Do you talk to all your customers this way?"

You flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Just the ones that can't take a hint." He opened his mouth for a sharp rebuttal no doubt, but you redirected the conversation. "Your order, Hopscotch. Or else you're gonna have to kick rocks."

He acquiesced like it was such a hardship you were asking of him, like you weren't in a bar that he came to specifically to order a drink. "Fine. Whiskey, neat."

That, you could help him with. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured some into a glass for him, all the while making conversation. He wasn't special; you did this with every customer. "What are you doing here?" When you got no response, you glanced back up to see a confused expression on his face. You elaborated, "Doesn't seem like your scene." You would've said no offense, but who were you kidding? You were already abrasive to begin with.

But he didn't look offended. If anything, he looked curious. "How so?"

You slid his drink across the counter, cocking your head at him as if telling him it was stupid to even ask. "You introduced yourself with your first and last name, extended your hand for me to shake, then just now, you referred to our class with the course code." You raised a brow then. "A little formal, don't you think?"

Now he looked a little offended. "Formal? I don't think so. I'm a little old fashioned at most."

For the second time that day, you deadpanned. "You're at the bar in a suit and tie. You couldn't have made it any more obvious that you don't do this often."

He got a little red then. You think that, if he could've, he would've loosened his tie, but he just picked up his drink, taking a swig. You'd give him a little credit, though; at least he looked like he could take his liquor. "Fine," he admitted, "my friends dragged me out."

"Ah," you chuckled, "common occurrence here at GWU. You'll get used to it soon, freshie."

He furrowed his brows. "How'd you know I was a first-year?"

You grinned. "You just told me, Hopscotch."

He groaned, making you stifle a laugh. No, you wouldn't laugh at him; that'd make it seem like his presence was growing on you when it wasn't.

You didn't need new friends, and you certainly didn't need suit-and-tie-wearing, formal Aaron Hotchner.

But he stayed there. He stayed there and talked you as you served other customers, asking you to refill his drink every now and then. You wondered where his friends were, but by the time closing came 'round, you assumed they were long gone.

He talked to you all night, you realized.

And you didn't totally hate it.

Aaron visited you at work the next day, too. That's when you told him your name. Then you started talking to him in class. Then, before you knew it, you exchanged numbers and he was visiting you at work nearly every day.

But you were right in your earlier reservations. You and Aaron Hotchner couldn't be friends.

You just learned that too late.

2005

"Tallie, tell Gretchen that I need the files on Henderson's case by the end of the day, please."

You walked with your assistant at your side, heels clicking against the floor as you went through all the day's administrative business. Every day, Tallie went over your schedule with you as soon as you entered the building. Time was of the essence in your job, and you had none of it to waste.

"Yes, ma'am, and— if I may—"

"Oh, and contact the President's Chief of Staff. I need to meet with him by the end of the day to discuss the recent terrorist attack in London again. We need to communicate with the British government without overstepping."

"Done, and—"

"And could you please get Rob Burton on the line for me?" You turned down the hall that led to your office. "He said he has an inquiry for me."

"Well, ma'am, um—" You had just reached your office when Tallie stopped, sighing. You looked back at her, raising a brow. Sheepishly, she pointed ahead of you. "There's that."

Your brows knitted together. You turned, following her gaze to see a dark-haired man standing in your waiting room, eyes on his watch. As if he felt your presence, he looked up, and as soon as your eyes locked, you realized why he looked so familiar.

Tallie cut off your thought process. "I kept telling him he didn't have an appointment, but he said you knew him and would let him in, that it's urgent."

You let out a sigh of your own, muttering under your breath, "Somehow, I don't doubt that." It had to be urgent if Aaron Hotchner was at your office. You glanced back at Tallie, giving her a tense smile. "Thank you, Tallie. We'll raincheck that phone call with Mr. Burton?"

She nodded, giving a "Yes, ma'am," before she walked past the man in your waiting room to her desk.

Like old times, you couldn't hold back another sigh, but you got your exasperation under control before you walked up to him, if not just to be professional and keep up appearances.

"Agent Hotchner," you greeted, a faux smile on your face. "It's... nice to see you." It was like the words stung coming out of your mouth, and that was because they weren't true. If he was half as good of a profiler as you thought he was, then he'd know that.

If he knew you as well as he thought he did, then he should've known that regardless.

You didn't bother waiting for his greeting; you didn't care for it. "Let's talk in my office." Not a question.

He complied, following you into your office and shutting the door on the way in. With your back still turned to him, you momentarily closed your eyes, willing yourself to have the strength to sit through whatever it was he had to tell you.

When you had it, you turned back around, dropping all the pleasantries now that you were away from prying eyes. "What is it that's so important you couldn't say over the phone?"

He didn't answer. Deep down, you both knew it was because he could've. He didn't need to be here, but instead of agreeing with you, he nodded to the two chairs in front of your desk. "You're not going to offer me a seat?"

You scoffed. "If I did, would you take it?" You're met with silence, another answer in and of itself. It'd been six years, yet you could still read Hotch's tells like a children's book. He didn't like to say anything when he knew you were right.

You took that moment to examine him. He looked the same, just as you left him. Maybe a bit more worn, a bit more tired, and a bit more cold, but weren't you all?

Briefly, you wondered what he was thinking about you.

He got to the point, as he always did. "I have a suspect for the murders of 12 women in D.C. spanning over the past six months," he told you. "His name is Eric Clark. He's the founder and CEO of a new tech start-up here; they're calling him the new Zuckerberg." The sarcasm in his voice when he said that last bit was evident, shining through his monotonous persona.

You were aware of the murders he spoke of, and you were aware of who Eric Clark was. He was invited to some state dinner you just went to. But you didn't say this. Instead, you shrugged like it didn't matter to you and asked him, "So why are you telling me?"

If your nonchalance bothered him, he didn't voice it. He simply explained, "I need a warrant." A warrant, he said, like that sentence stood alone. What he was realling saying was, he needed a warrant, and he needed you to get it for him. More than that, he expected you to get it for him.

That forced a chuckle out of you, even though you didn't feel any humour at all. So that was why he was here; six years go by without any contact, but now that he needed something, here he was.

You felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Hotch needing something and claiming that you were the only one who could give it to him.

"You need a warrant," you echoed, splaying your hands out in front of you. "So go take that up with a judge."

You saw a sudden crack in his calm composure. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, so slightly you wouldn't have noticed it if you didn't know what to look for.

But you knew what to look for.

"Come on, Y/N." He said your name like you were just old friends, like this stop by your office was a normal occurence. "Everyone knows you have pull in this city."

You did have pull in this city. In fact, you had pull in just about every city in America; being the U.S. Attorney General gave you that kind of power.

So yes, you had pull, and now Hotch wanted you to pull some strings for him as if you owed him a favour, as if you owed him anything.

You didn't say this, but you were sure that your next words said enough for you. "Where's Gideon? Normally, he's the one to come knocking on my door when the BAU needs something." You found it highly unlikely that he'd ever send Hotch, of all people, on his behalf.

Hotch pursed his lips. "He's on leave."

You made a clicking sound of realization, but it was more mocking than anything since you already gathered as much. That meant he was unit chief now, and that was why he was here. So that's what it took? you thought. All it took was a promotion, obligation, and now he was here.

He was here, checking his watch in your waiting room, marching into your office and shutting the door, clenching his jaw and pursing his lips like he was the one with the right to be mad.

You'd give it to him: Aaron Hotchner sure as hell had guts.

You circled back to the original topic. "Yeah, Hotch, that's not happening." He went to cut you off, but you stopped him by raising a hand. Your were firm as you asserted, "If you're here with me instead of with a judge, that means you have insubstantial evidence. So how about, instead of ambushing me and wasting my precious time, you go back to the drawing board?" It wasn't a suggestion as much as it was an insult.

His jaw tensed, his eyes hardening as he stared at you. "I am sorry to waste your precious time, but precious lives are at stake." Condescending as ever.

"I undersand that, but you clearly have no probable cause." Or did you forget what that was? you wanted to add, but you kept that part to yourself.

You thought, if he clenched his jaw any harder, it just might break. "I have a profile—"

"Which clearly isn't enough—"

"You of all people should understand the importance of a profile, Y/N."

You took a sharp breath through your nose. It was low of him to say that, and it was also such a profiler of him to say it, mostly because he knew it'd get you.

You weren't always the Attorney General.

Perhaps this is why you agreed. "Fine. I'll go talk to a judge for you."

He sighed, "Thank you." He said it without looking at you, then he was opening your door and walking out, and you nearly thanked him for it.

Six years had gone by.

Yet you wouldn't have been able to tell with the way your heart was racing.

You went on with your day after Hotch left, going through paperwork and dropping by the White House. You had a meeting with the President that day, the President of the United States, the most important person in the whole damn country. That was little old you that did that.

You weren't the same girl he remembered, not that girl from Georgetown who rolled her eyes at every one of his corny jokes, and he wasn't the same guy who'd sit and wait for you the by the bar, either. He was the unit chief now. And you were the Attorney General.

Things were different now.

Or maybe they weren't.

Because Aaron Hotchner came striding into your office just later that night.

Your door flew open, Aaron walking in thereafter with a stone cold frown and determination etched onto his face. It wasn't like the Aaron you knew to frown so much, but that wasn't what you were focused on.

You immediately shot up from your chair and rounded your desk, baffled by his behaviour. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're—"

You didn't get to finish your sentence. Before you could berate him, Aaron's hand was on the back of your head and his lips were slamming into yours. Slamming was the right word. This was fervent, almost violent, like he wanted to bruise you, like he wanted to permanently mold his lips into yours.

Your eyes went wide. You should've pushed him away—you really should have. But it was like you weren't thinking. Like you were on auto-pilot, your hands automatically went to his hair, your lips moving in unison with his.

This was muscle memory. God, how could you have ever forgotten what this felt like? Like ecstasy, and butterflies, and all good things in the world. Kissing him felt like everything all at once.

But everything meant that it came with all the bad in the world, too.

Your senses came back to you as you pushed him away, stumbling backward. You were sure you would've fallen, had your desk not been right behind you. You were heaving, and he was no different.

Fuck. What did you just do?

Your eyes darted to the door, alarm flashing through them. "Tallie—"

He finished your thought, assuring you, "She's gone. I sent her home."

Relief flooded your body. She wasn't here, she didn't see anything. That was good. But then what he said actually hit you. Your eyes narrowed into slits. "You did what?" He rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort, but you kept going. "You sent my assistant home?"

"Yes."

You scoffed. He sent your assistant home, and he was just admitting it proudly like it was nothing. Maybe nothing was different after all if Aaron was still here, barging into your life like he owned it, like he owned you.

And perhaps he did.

"You can't— you can't just—"

"I can't what?" he cut you off then took a step closer. "I can't come see you?" Another step. "We used to see each other all the time."

You were already cornered, right against your desk. "That was before," you responded. "Before—" the rest of your sentence got caught in your throat. You had glanced down momentarily, catching sight of his hand in the process. There, something glinted in the light. A golden band.

A wedding ring.

Your chest tightened, your voice getting smaller. "Before that." Even if he wasn't a profiler, it was impossible not to notice the crack in your voice.

You didn't know how you didn't feel the ring when he had his hand on your head.

Confused, Aaron followed your line of sight, right down to his hand. When he realized what you were referring to, he sighed, "Y/N, it's not what you think—"

A humourless chuckle left you. "It never is, is it?" You could count the number of times he'd said that to you. "God, I can't believe it." You chuckled again before your laugh faded into something angrier. No, not angrier. You were furious.

You didn't know if there was even a word in the English language that could describe how furious you were.

"You—" you took a deep breath, stopping yourself from yelling. "You're doing this to me— again?"

"Y/N—"

You slapped his hands away when he tried to put his hands on your arms. You didn't want to feel that fucking ring touch your skin. "Again?!" you seethed. "What, two times wasn't fucking enough for you? You had to go and do this a third time—"

"Please, just—"

You refused to let him get a word out. "No! I don't need any more of your excuses, Hotch!" Lord knew that if you heard them, you might just believe them.

You nearly did the first time.

To think that he had just been in your office hours earlier, acting like he didn't know you, like he didn't break you down just to build you back up and do it all over again.

He could've at least given you the courtesy of leaving you alone, but it appeared that he couldn't even do that. Still, he was defending himself, false conviction lacing through his voice. "Haley and I are separated—"

"Separated?" That forced another chuckle out of you. "Sure, and I'm the Pope."

His glare at you hardened, like he was mad at you "I'm being serious."

Another laugh. He couldn't figure out why the hell you were laughing.

"Haley, haley, haley." Your voice raised. "It's always about fucking Haley." Even when he was with you.

Especially when he was with you.

His jaw locked. "We're not together right now."

You snapped, "Tell that to the fucking ring on your finger, asshole."

It was laughable, really. You were the Attorney General of the United States of America. You sat in one of the highest offices of the land. Yet Aaron Hotchner still had the ability to turn you into putty in his hands.

The Attorney General didn't play second fiddle to anyone.

But you'd always be second to Haley Brooks.

"Get out, Hotchner."

"What?" He had the audacity to look hurt, confused. You didn't understand what there was to be confused about.

You managed to wriggle yourself out of the space where you were stuck between him and your desk, walking to your door and nearly yanking it open, holding it for him wordlessly.

He scoffed. "Y/N, come on—"

You shut him down. "No. I did what you asked earlier. I got you your warrant, therefore we are done. Now get out."

You didn't meet his eyes but you felt them burning into you with the same heat that'd make an unsub crack. It was the same heat that'd make you crack, too, which was precisely why you refused to look at him.

After what felt like a lifetime of staring at you, his footsteps sounded. You didn't look up until you watched his shoes pass you. Immediately, you closed the door, locking it.

Your hand fell around the door handle, your forehead resting against the door. Briefly, you wondered what the sensation in your eyes was, until you realized it was tears.

You hadn't cried in so long.

But whenever Aaron Hotchner came around, tears seemed inevitable.

taglist: @c-losur3

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dilfscvm · 1 year

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Fitzgerald Grant x Female! Reader

Hi! This is my own work, I wrote it and I much don't like to have it posted in other social media flatforms without my permission.

WARNINGS : This contains smut, if you don't like such content please skip it and don't read it. Vulgar words has been used also. Do excuse my grammatical errors and typos, correct me nicely or else I'll block block you. English is not my first language:)) Enjoy reading!<33

Special thanks to the owner of this gif<3

“I told you to stay away from him!” Fitz yells at you, he's in the pit of rage and you know you just crossed the line.

Making him jealous because you wanted to make him pay at what he did to you a week ago. He thought you got over it, but looks like his naughty wife has a better plan. And that is to make him angry. What's on his mind right now?

I'll get you bend over this dining table, fuck you and breed you.

That's what his brain tells him to do. You're his property, you're his and he doesn't like to share. And you absolutely knew it. That's why you make everything on planned.

"I'm sorry, but you really need to stop working." Fitz firmly stated, you're shocked at his sudden statement.

"W-what?" you scoffed.

"I said... I want you to stop working." he repeats as he slowly strode over you, like a lion ready to attack its prey. His eyes tells he craves. You stumped in front of him, face to face, nose almost touched. Eyes raged.

"I. Won't. Stop. Working." you said what is to be said, "I love my work, Fitz, I love working as a professor and you know how much I love my work and you can't just barge here in my office to tell me to resign and stay with you at the white house and fulfill my duty as a first lady. How did you get in here anyways?"

"You don't need to know how I get here, what you need to do is to get all your things and sign these resignation papers and let's go at the white House." his frown deepen, but you can see his eyes averting from your eyes to your lips, his breathing getting heavy as you argue with him.

"I won't resign just because you're jealous of my colleague who haven't done anything but to do his job." you continued. He scoff, he backs away a little shaking his head.

"Believe me, you will." and that's the last thing he said before he walks out your office. You stared at the door where he just walked out of, jaw drop, can't believe that your husband can do such things.

Well he's the president of the United States after all.

You're at his birthday party, talking with some guests. Not paying attention at your husband who's been such a attention seeker for you.

Since he made you sign those resignation letter you give him silent treatment that he deserves. He can't just manipulate you just because he's jealous.

“Dance with me?” you heard a voice from your back making you turn around. It's your colleague, the man Fitz don't ever want to see.

“Well why not.” you giggle and took his hand that been waiting for you to take.

You wanted him here. His name is Race, and he's a colleague, a married man but it's a private marriage. Fitz were a fool, he doesn't even let you explain it, and now, you will take advantage of it.

Race lead you to the dance floor where there's already some people who's dancing, including your husband who's with a old lady which you can recognise as the 40th president's wife.

Well watch me turn the tables around, darling.

“So, I bet he still doesn't know.” he smiled at you which you returned with a naughty smirk.

“This is a lesson, he has been fooling himself. You know that I would never cheat on him, I love him too much to break his heart.” you factly stated. He sighs as he slowly sway you, syncing with the music.

“I know that you cheeky minx.” he whisper that makes you both laugh together.

Both of you continued to dance and talk about random things up until Fitz finally notice, well actually you've seen him, he got his eyes on you. Watching you dance with the man he despise right now, and all he wanted to do were to yank you off him and take you right in front of everybody, specially him. You're playing with fire.

“Ma'am if you'll excuse me.” he politely smiles at the woman who nods with a smile. As soon as he turns around, his face contorts into a deep frown, raging eyes glued at you.

He walks with power, greeting every person he walk pass with a smile then immediately turns back into a frown as soon as he looks at you.

“I think that would be great, I like it and I know-”

“Mind if I steal my wife for a while?” firm, and low husky voice. Fitz says as he folds his arms across his chest. His face shows it all. Anger, rage, jealousy... Lust.

Well you were about to say that you like race's idea to surprise his wife for her birthday.

“Why sure, Mr. President.” race politely agrees as he smiled at the man, not paying attention to fitz's face, looking like he's ready to punch him.

Fitz did not waste anymore time as he possessively pull you away from him by your waist. He then pressed his lips on yours, taking you by surprise. Race sealed his lips containing his evil grin. Success.

You on the other hand, didn't give what Fitz wants. You did not kiss him back making him pull inches away from your lips.

“You like him don't you?” Fitz slowly said. You stared at him, slowly, a smile formed in your lips, mocking him. You know it makes him more hungry for you, and you like every bit of it.

Knowing your husband, he loves you so much, he's a very territorial, possessive, and obsessive at you. Well because you're his wife, and he needs you to know it.

“I love you.” you smiled at him. He'll say it back. No matter how he's mad at you. You know he will.

“I...love you too.” he whisper, as he look down on your lips, almost looks ashamed. I know you too well.

“Dining room.” you whisper at him before pulling away to walk out of the room.

“What?” he asks confusedly. His brows knitted, his signature look. You smiled evily, seductively bit your lower lip as you said;

“I know you like it anywhere, baby.”

Fitz is a kinky man, you must declare.

A knowing smirk were now plastered on his face making you giggle.

“Meet you there, baby!” you turned around and walk off.

Did he waste more time? Of course he didn't. He quickly walk off the room full of guest and walk towards dining room, where you waited there. Wearing nothing but a pair of black lingerie and a black stocking.

“Y/N-” his breath caught above his lungs as the view in front of him completely astonished him. “What's all of these?” he asks, as his eyes continue to hungrily Starr at your body up and down.

You hop ontop of the table and crossed your legs. He slowly walk towards you.

“A lesson.” you simply said when he's already standing right in front of you and tries to open your legs.

“A lesson for what?” he looks confused. You smirk and parted your legs, you hooked him with your legs on his hips and forcely pull him using it.

You put a finger on his lips and it just parted for you, “You know what you've done, Fitz, and now I'll teach you.. A.. Lesson.” you lean closer to him, he thought you will kiss him, so he lean forward to reach your lips but you pull back. “Ah, ah, darling... You need to be taught and punished—”

“Screw you.” that's all he got to say before he slam his lips on you, you tried to pull away but you're too intoxicated at his taste and scent. He kissed you hungrily, both hands on either side of your cheeks. Both with heavy breathings, both were panting, and moaning in each others mouths, as their tounge collide, exploring the insides of it adding more heat down your womanhood.

Fitz grab ahold of your stockings and rip it apart making you gasp into his mouth. But keep on kissing him still anyways. He pushed your legs more apart and start to kiss your neck. His hands were now roaming you body, specially down your area.

“F-fuck, Fitz.” you moaned as his kiss went down your cleavage, to your stomach up until he reached where you wanted him to be. He place a kiss on your lingerie, as his eyes stilled on yours.

“You can't punish me. I will punish you... For being such a brat, for ignoring me, for teasing me, you think you'll get away with it? Think again...” he snarled. You scoff at him. He just smirked. That devil smirk he always does when you both on bed. It turns you on.

“Fuck you.” you smile and press your lips on his kissing him ever so roughly as your hand went to his belt and undo it. He slapped your hand away and grab a hold of your ass and yank you off the table and put you on your feet as he turn you around, panting as he retrieve his breath, as well as you. He continue to kiss on your neck as he unbuckle his belt and push his pants down.

“Fuck you, you mean.” he chuckles, he ripped your panties and thrown it on the floor leaving you gasping. There's nothing can make you more turned on than you are now.

He latched his lips again on your neck as you grab ahold of his head pushing him more to it, moaning as you did. Fitz let his mouth open while he teased your hole with the tip of his enormous cock. Confusedly you is when he put his hand tightly on your mouth, but it didn't take long when he rams his cock inside of you with a guttural groan, trying to contain his own sounds.

You swear if he hadn't covered your mouth, you would scream. You never got used to his cock, up until now.

“I will never get tired fucking this sweet, tight pussy of yours, Y/N.” he whisper erotically in your ear, while you left there moaning in his palm, grinding your hips with his as he thrust slow but you can feel the roughness.

“Now tell me, my sweet, does teasing me satisfy you?” he asks as he slowly fastening his thrust, breathing were getting more heavier. You shook your head. “Liar.” he grunts, he let's go of your lips and push you down the table, making you lay your front to it as he grab onto your hips and continue his bruising pace. He pause a little when you began to moan, as much as he wanted to hear it, you must minimise your moans so no guest will get traumatised, “Please do be quiet for me, sweetheart, there's people outside. I don't want them knowing I'm screwing my bratty wife while I have party to be at. Wouldn't want to look disrespectful yeah?” he whispers at your ears. You only nodded, panting. “Good.” he smirk before he bit your ear gently. He then suddenly pushed in roughly making you squeal and him shushing you.

Fitz won't let you dominate him, we'll at least not now. He doesn't have much time for you to tease and edge him. But he will let you do that later, when no one's in the house.

He spread your ass to watch his harden cock penetrate your wet cunt, he couldn't help but whimper looking at the beautiful view. He sure is won't ever get enough of you.

No one can ever make his cock this alive, only you, his wife. You always turn him on even in small things you do. Like the way you walk, you talk, your smell, he gets turned on easily, if it's you who'll make him.

“Fuck, Fitz, I'm close.” you quietly moan, Fitz was too lost in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you against his chest as he thrust up to help you cum for him. He's nearing, as much as he doesn't want this to end, he has visitors to entertain.

“Darling, I'm gonna cum.” he whisper against your skin. His eyes closed, mouth open, eyebrows were knitted, pleasure takes over him. “I know you want to cum too. Cum hof me.” he place a kiss on your neck.

“Fitz..” you moan, almost out of breath. His hand went to your breast and squeeze it tightly as he left his other arm wrapped around your waist. “Ah! Fuck!” your walls clamped around his cock that enough to edge him, and leave him moaning as you cum.

“Oh God, you feel so good.” he groans through gritted teeth. He continues to thrust in you as he breed you, filling you with his cum—wait he breeds you?!

“Fitz!” you yell at him. He frowned at you.

“W-what?” he says panting.

“You finished in me!”

Not to be rude but you both talked about having another baby and he said it's not the right time yet to have another one, and you agreed with it.

“So?” he asks confusedly. He's still inside of you, still thrusting very slowly as he just reached his climax. “You're my wife, I have the rights to do so.” he said, he slowly pulls away making you bite your lip. You turn around to face him.

“Yeah, but I thought you don't want another baby yet?” you ask, he sighs and pull you closer to him as he wrap his arms around your hips.

“Jerry's not a baby anymore, he's four—well he'll still remain our baby but I miss having a small human in my arms,” he chuckles. He place a hand on your cheek, a finger in your lips and continues; “I want to have another baby, I know that you also want another but I choosed to deny you. I'm sorry.” he whisper, your eyes were glistening as he rub your cheeks.

“Thank you, and I love you.” you smiled at him, which he returns.

“I love you too.” he says back with a chuckle. You giggle and tiptoed his lips. Kissing him deeply and passionately.

It didn't last long when he lift you up again and sat you on the table before he push you on your back. He pulls away with a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Fitz!” you giggle when he pulls a chair and sat on it before he pulls you by your tighs to the edge of the table. He smirk at you making you part your lips.

“What? I'm hungry.” he teasingly said before burying his head between your tighs leaving you breathless as you throw your head at the back, moaning as you did.

#fitzgerald grant #scandal #olivia pope #imagines #oneshot #y/n #wattpad #romance #tony goldwyn #actors #readersgonnaread

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