How stunning Olivia looked, her dark skin, contrasted against the crystal clear water, her wet shirt, clinging to every defining curve on that delicious body of hers. How Fitz longed to touch her, hold her, make love to her again… and now she was here, right before him, in this scenic place. Someone needed to pinch him cause he was sure this was a dream.
Sighing as she slid deeper into the cooling bath, Olivia glanced around the large open air room. She’d never seen such an open, yet very private room. It was constructed of four rooms, varying in size. The living area, dining area, and sleeping section were the largest, leaving the smaller section for bathing and dressing. Brightly colored rugs, with Mayan and Aztec prints covered the entire floor of the room. Entering the room, she’d caught a glimpse of the large ornate bed. It was circular and sat high on a pewter frame that rose above the bed itself in large carved posters, situated at both the head and the foot of the bed. The bed was encircled with a large white gossamer mosquito net; it gave it an aura of a Sultan’s tent, more so than a bed in a hacienda in Mexico. Olivia had never seen anything like it. Everything inside the room was simple, light and airy, yet exquisite.
Her stomach grumbled as she caught a whiff of a scrumptious smell, coming from the direction of the kitchen…"Liv, come on, it’s going to get cold, and I made your favorite…” Not only was Fitz a devilishly handsome man, a smooth dancer, and a beast of a lover, he was also an exceptionally good cook. “Ah, a man after my own heart…Coming darling.”
After a superb meal, Fitz poured the last of the white wine into their glasses, and led Olivia out onto the front porch that faced the ocean. “That was incredible,” Olivia said as she rubbed her stomach. Feeling fully satisfied, she took her glass and laid out in the large hammock, facing Fitz.
Nursing a nice buzz, she was happy, almost giddy, with not a care in the world. Fitz walked over, got into the hammock with Olivia, and began to tickle her. She laughed as he roamed her body, in search of the perfect spot that would send her over the edge with laughter. As she wiggled to get free from his relentless assault, her robe rode up her back side, exposing her perfectly shaped butt - it was magnificent. Fitz loved everything about Olivia, from the top of her head to the soles of her perfectly shaped feet, which were impeccably pedicured. She was flawless… but his favorite feature was her butt. It was all he could think of after their first meeting at the studio, it had fascinated him, he had become obsessed with it. The way it looked in those skin tight work out pants, etc. He was thankful for his height advantage, because it allowed him to look over her shoulder and at her back side as they were dancing. She had turned him into a butt man and it was all he could think about.
“Don’t move…please” “What, do I have something on my bottom? What is it? “Shhhh, just be still, I want to…” Fitz leaned in closer and kissed, ever so gently, Olivia’s right butt cheek. "Liv, do you remember that night we played that game…Do you remember what the wager was?"…He said as he kissed her other butt cheek. Olivia let out a small moan, “mmm, yeah, something about winner gets their hearts desire.” Fitz wet his lips and leaned in to lick up and down the crevasse between Olivia perfectly rounded globes…she let out a muted cry. "Yes, that’s correct. Well, since I was the winner, that would mean that tonight I can have my heart’s desire.” “OH…?” Olivia could hardly think straight, with Fitz touching, licking, and squeezing her backside, but she vividly recalled that night. It had been the first time that they had explored each other, not making love, just allowing themselves the freedom to openly feel each other’s bodies, without the fear of getting caught by the cameras. It was then that Olivia suspected that Fitz wanted more than to touch her in that area, he really wanted to explore it, in more ways than one. And from the looks of Fitz Jr., that was not going to be a pleasant experience. But tonight she was in no condition to deny Fitz anything, after all he did win, fair and square… “Come on, let’s go inside…”
Olivia’s heart dropped and her guts turned. She thought it would be too painful. But she did not want to disappoint Fitz, not tonight. It had been so perfect until now, why did this have to happen now. Fitz sensed Olivia’s apprehension. “Relax baby, come here.” They walked into the outside stone shower; gently he backed her up against the cool sandstone wall. He turned on the warm water and slowly under the falling stream he kissed her. For a moment, Olivia lost her breath. She could no longer feel her feet, it was as if she was floating in mid-air. His arms, those strong arms had lifted her up and onto his engorged manhood. To say that Fitz was well endowed was an understatement. It had taken some getting used to his size, but by now, she could accommodate him completely. They made love under the moonlight. Fitz was the perfect lover, gentle and loving when she needed him to be, rough and hard, when she wanted it. Their bodies were in perfect harmony. It’s as if God had created him just to please her. He knew every erogenous zone on her body, and he made each one sing with every well orchestrated beat of his cock.
Olivia stepped out the shower, walking into the adjacent open room, she grabbed a towel as she sat on chaise lounge to dry herself off. As she put her robe on, Fitz quickly kissed her, taking by the hand, he led her to a small stool that sat in the center of the bedroom. Olivia watched Fitz pull a hairbrush and a large deep red scarf from the overnight bag he brought. He dropped the scarf into her lap and began brushing her slightly damp hair. “Mmmmm….that feels good.” Her head tilted forward. “I can’t remember the last time someone brushed my hair.” His strokes remained deep and long as he pulled the brush through her thick hair slowly and methodically. He watched her head fall forward. “Liv, do you know what the word “tantra” means?” His voice was as soothing as the strokes. The combination of both seemed to have a lulling affect on her. She answered easily and honestly. “Mmmm…yes. It means “woven together.” She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. “Are you trying to put me to sleep?” “No baby, far from it.” He pulled the brush down the side of her head. The hair was nearly dry. Fitz knew Olivia had practiced yoga and other forms of meditation, but he had no idea how far she’d gone. For the last three months he had submerged himself in the subject, reading every book he could find in anticipation of this day. He wanted to make sure everything was right, it was imperative that Olivia was relaxed and Fitz knew that yoga and meditation were the only things that would accomplish that. Given the extremeness of their lovemaking tonight, it was imperative that mind and body were relaxed.. “Do you know what the “right hand” and “left hand” are?” Her mind began drifting. “Hmmm…they are the two paths of tantra yoga.” “And..” “The “right hand” is a more meditational or monogamous rite, while the “left hand” is used in groups.” Olivia’s body began to slump slightly. Fitz watched her slump forward. “Liv, can you hear me.” When she nodded, he continued. “Have you every practiced either?” “No, I’ve only read about them.” She sighed as he put the brush down and began massaging her scalp. Her eyes focused on the vibrant scarf. His fingers began drawing deep circles over her scalp, moving from the nape to the hairline at her forehead and moving wide to her temples, circling lightly this time. Reaching for the scarf, he tied it snuggly around her eyes, speaking directly into her ear. Engulfed by a sudden feeling of disorientation, Olivia pulled at the blindfold. “What the hell, Fitz, I can’t see a thing!” “Shhh…I’m right here.” Fitz took hold of her hands and helped her stand. Moving her slowly to the bed, he spoke softly. “I want us to experience pure feeling…not so much the orgasm, but the intense feelings leading up to the orgasm. Are you open?” Allowing his voice to calm her, Fitz had been the only man that she had ever given up complete control. Although she was scared, she trusted him, she knew that he would never do anything to harm her. Unable to find her voice, she nodded. Pushing his hand into the opening of her robe, Fitz cupped one of her breasts, weighing the smooth, silky caramel orb in his hand. He tightened his grip almost painfully. “Do you understand what I want to do, Olivia? I need to hear your answer. Are you open to the experience?” Olivia spoke softly…hesitantly as he continued to tighten his hold on her breast, pinching the sensitive nipple. “Ye…yes. I understand, it hurts and I am bit scared, but I’m open!” Leaning her head back against his chest, she gave in. “Completely.” “Good girl.” FItz removed his hand. Smoothing her hair back, he planted a kiss on her forehead before moving away. He circled her slowly, watching her for a moment.
Olivia reached out to find what she couldn’t see. Her voice quiet, she asked. “Where are you?” “Close.” He stood quietly still watching her. He could tell she was feeling uncomfortable, Olivia was not a person who was used to standing still, but he wanted her to realize the depth of the feeling. Grasping the loose sides of Olivia’s robe, he untied the sash and let it fall from her shoulders, leaving her naked with only a blindfold. He watched as her expression quickly changed, "Are you uncomfortable?” Olivia didn’t know what to say. So she simply remained silent, a first for her, Fitz thought. “Answer me.” Fitz moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He waited patiently for her answer. Olivia turned her face in the direction of his voice. “Yes.” “Yes what?” Fitz pushed. “Yes, I feel uncomfortable. I can’t see you…naked, very naked and hate that I can’t see you…but you can see every inch of me.” Olivia breathed. She was no stranger to this sort of pseudo S&M play, but something in Fitz’ voice took it beyond erotic, he had awakened all of her senses, his touch was her only lifeline to existence. “And you feel?” Fitz pushed to the answer he was looking for. Reluctantly she answered, “I feel vulnerable.” Fitz moved silently, standing behind her, he reached around and grasped her chin. Gently twisting her head sideways, he lowered his mouth to taste her lips, sucking the bottom slightly longer then the top. Leaving her lips he drew his tongue slowly up the delicate line of her jaw. Olivia caught her breath at the sudden sensation. Without her sight, she seemed to be sensitive to every touch and gesture. Senses on edge, trying to figure out what was coming next. “Fitz…” “Shhh…don’t speak…just feel. Don’t think…just allow. Don’t move…just experience.” Starting at the nape of her neck, Fitz trailed gentle kisses down her spin. Kneeling behind her, Fitz caressed and molded the smooth mounds of her full buttocks. How he had dreamed of this moment, holding her like this. His soft caresses quickly becoming firm. Without warning his lips replaced his hands. Olivia’s gasp was like the sound of a pin dropping in the silence. Fitz quieted her once again. “No sounds, baby…not yet. Right now you need to concentrate on feeling.” At her nod, he continued his physical worship, sucking the supple skin of each cheek, leaving dark, purplish, love marks that would last for days. Rubbing his teeth across the soft, brown flesh, Fitz bit down slightly, causing Olivia to shiver slightly, her breathing changing from rapid to erratic. Massaging the flesh one last time, Fitz gave Olivia instructions. “Slow your breathing. Breathe with me. In…out…in…out…in…out.”
Once her breathing matched his, Fitz continued tasting. Drawing his tongue slowly up her spine until he once again stood behind her…chest to back, groin to bottom, lips to head and neck. Pulling her back against his chest, he swung her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed. With his knees braced on the edge of the bed, he laid her in the center. “Don’t move.” He whispered. Leaving the bed he went to the overnight bag again. Removing four large scarves and a small bottle of oil from the bag, Fitz returned to the bed with his bounty. Removing his robe, Fitz joined Olivia on the bed. Turning her over to lie on her stomach FItz straddled her hips, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Are you open?” As he spoke, he spread her arms wide and pushed them above her head. Olivia’s mind was on the weight of Fitz sitting on her hips. She had to concentrate in order to give him one simple answer. “Yesss.” He spoke his intentions, the desires that he had held secret ever since they had met. “I want you tied, blindfolded and face down.” As he spoke he knotted a scarf securely around each of her wrists. Taking the free end of the scarves he double knotted them to hidden bars in the elaborate frame. Moving down to her ankles, he spread her legs wide and taking the last two scarves, repeated the previous actions. Sitting back, he stared at her body. Her body was left open to him. His eyes savored the delicate, pink folds of her hidden passage.
Her mind was reeling…she was wide open and vulnerable to him. Without sight, she could only imagine, wholly feel every touch and every movement. Lying down next to her, he watched as she tried to come to grips with her body’s bondage and her own mental and physical vulnerabilities. Using a single finger, he followed the same path his tongue had taken not long ago. Moving slowly, he traced the crease that separated her firm buttocks, watching her body shiver as his digit slipped lower, still finding the nether lips that guarded the paradise he sought. “Shhh…just feel.” Fitz murmured. As he separated the dark, pouty lips, he uncovered the swollen, quivering, pink nub hidden there. Teasing the nub he pinched and worked it into arousal. Leaving the nub, Fitz circled the lush opening before pushing a single finger into her inch by slow inch until it was completely buried inside of her.
Holding his finger there, he leaned into her ear. “Feel me, here…inside you.” He pulled his finger out to the tip, adding a second as he pushed back into her dark passage. Repeating the actions in an age old rhythm, he added a third finger. Pushing in and out, he aroused her body and set her mind aflame, his own body already on edge…hard and erect. He used the same breathing technique; he coached to keep from spilling his seed over both of them. She couldn’t move. Her lungs were tightening against the air moving in and out of them. Her panting came in time to the rhythm Fitz’s fingers set. Her whimpering was uncontrollable as her excitement grew, and then suddenly, his fingers stopped moving. She waited…it was all she could do. Wait and feel. She turned her thoughts inward. She concentrated on the electric thrumming of her tortured nerve endings. She could feel the muscles in her lower body clinching in aroused spasms. “Calm your breathing. Breathe slowly. Feel my fingers filling you, Liv…touching you. Feel them moving in and out.” His fingers began moving once again. “Breathe slowly. In…out…in…out.” He increased the rhythm. “Feel them moving faster…your nerves tightening. I can feel you clenching. Relax and breathe. The goal is feeling, not orgasm. Slow and deliberate, just feel the rhythm of the movement.”
Olivia slowed her breathing and relaxed her muscles. She didn’t bother to speak. She followed Fitz’s instructions and concentrated on the feeling of his fingers, on the feeling of fullness. She focused on the friction his movement caused. She bit down on the moan that fought to escape her throat. How could a man hold such sway over her mind and body? Fitz pulled his fingers free, slowly. Caressing the perfect cheeks of round buttocks, he inserted one wet finger. Pushing gently into the channel he was about to initiate. “Have you ever accepted a man here, Olivia?” Pulled from her breathing task, she was startled into answering. “No, I haven’t. I don’t think I’d like it much.“ “You will. You’ll have to work past the discomfort. I’ll be here with you as always. Are you open? I won’t ask again,” Fitz asked, his finger moving deeper. He could tell by the tensing and jerking movement, Olivia was unaccustomed to the invasion and didn’t find it pleasant. Because her senses were still so heightened, the discomfort was minor. “Yesss,” she whispered the word, her mind on the invasion. “There is no going back, Liv. I’ll try not to hurt you, you know I would never do that, but you know that there will be some pain. It is part of the goal,” Fitz instructed.
“You’re insane, but….all right.”
“For a man the pain comes from the retention of our natural orgasms. That is why the man and woman must meditate as one…make their individual battles one.” Working his finger in and out slowly, Fitz prepared her entrance for his erection. Only a half an hour had passed since they had last made love, but as soon as he saw her naked, sprawled out before him, he was instantly erect, he had been holding it ever since. She had no idea, but his pain had already begun. Pulling his finger free, Fitz reached for a pillow and the bottle of oil he’d taken from the bag. Lifting her slightly by the waist, Fitz slid the pillow underneath Olivia’s hips, using it to adjust her bottom up. Pouring a quarter size amount of the heating oil in his palm, he rubbed it over his entire erection. Coating two fingers, he teased her opening once again. He pushed his fingers deep making sure the channel was well lubricated.
Olivia hadn’t expected the oil, let alone the instant heat that it brought to her insides. She instantly pulled against the scarves when his fingers pushed steadily into her, working ruthlessly to widen her entry. Tightening against the invasion, she bit down against the moan that threatened to escape - loosing the battle when he mounted her from behind and carefully pushed the head of his erection into her tight passage. Pulling back, he paused a moment before pushing deeper. Leaning over her, Fitz whispered, “Don’t focus on the pain. Feel the fullness.” He repeated the movements, pushing in and pulling out carefully pass her tightening walls until he was completely in. Lying full length across her body, Fitz let his full weight pin her down. His body still, Fitz could feel her passage gripping and releasing him. His own body throbbed in a rhythm that was natural to both him and Liv.
Olivia breathed steadily pass the burning sensation until she became accustomed to his enormous size. She could feel her rear channel stretching, widening to accommodate him. He seemed larger somehow, if that were humanly possible. Concentrating on the strong throbbing of his erection, she relaxed and allowed her body to accept him completely. His weight, pinning her down became more of an animalistic arousal then mere male on female sexual domination. He was now so deeply inside her, their bodies were throbbing in unison, so much so that she could not tell where she ended and he began. She did the only thing she could do…breathe.
They lay that way…as one for what seemed to both as a small eternity; learning the feel of one another, breathing as one entity, he in…her out. It wasn’t long before Olivia realized that movement was not necessary for an arousal. Fitz let the full onslaught of arousal, wash over him. “Do you feel them?” he whispered in her ear. “The feelings…their intensity?” She finally understood the union he’d sought - this feeling of fullness, oneness and immeasurable arousal. Always understanding pain, Olivia embraced the discomfort- now edging into pleasure- as Fitz once again began to move in and out of her body. Lifting his weight from her, he placed one hand on each side her head, his knees on the mattress and began pumping forcefully…ruthlessly. Steeped in mindless ecstasy, Fitz continued his assault, his mind now on Olivia and her mounting orgasm. He slowed his thrust, coming to a full stop. “Lesson one is complete and now for lesson two…full release. I’m going to fuck you the way I need to. The way I’ve been dreaming about since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
His words adding to her aroused senses, Olivia gasped, and Fitz began thrusting again. For the first time in her life she was about to have an orgasm from anal sex. Every muscle in her body constricted as he thrust in and out of her rear passage as though it had been made solely for him. She could only feel and accept as he worked her body into a frenzy of orgasmic lust, the now dulling pain adding sharply to the pleasure. Combing his fingers through her thick hair, Fitz used his leverage to press Olivia’s face into the mattress. Accepting his domination over her again, Olivia gave into the light headedness of air deprivation. Fighting against her bonds, Olivia tried pushing her hips into his. The lack of air, the painful tug of the scarves, and the constant pounding into her rear channel was all she could take.
Lifting his hand from her head, Fitz allowed Olivia to turn her face to the side for air, before returning his hold to her head. Leaning over her as he pounded into her body, his voice penetrated her hazed mind. “Let it, take it, give in to it completely… Scream for me baby!” And as the tension broke and rapture took hold of her, Olivia did just that, screaming Fitz’s name as she came. Pulling from her pulsing body, Fitz rolled as quickly as his heavily aroused body would allow him. Coming to the edge of the bed, he used the clean cloth and bowl of fresh water that he’d snuck in after he had blindfolded Olivia, to cleanse himself. Finishing, he moved back to where Olivia lie, still in the throws of her orgasm, her body gyrating against her bonds. The sight almost sent him into release.
Giving her no chance to adjust, Fitz positioned himself behind her once more, rubbing his throbbing erection against her soft, damp folds, enjoying Olivia’s attempts to push back against him. Bending forward, his lips lightly grazed the sensitive nape of her neck, then adding his weight to his movements, “You want more?” Fitz whispered. Olivia could only manage a nod. Fitz smiled as he thrust powerfully into her begging body, seating himself completely. He withdrew slowly, filled her again, thrusting in long, slow strokes, nudging deep. The largeness of him stirred the same nerve endings that were still in the throes of the previous torturous orgasm.
Barely catching her breath, Olivia’s whimpers filled the open room, which still held remnants of her past screams. Though her body was trying to calm itself, she was still so dizzyingly aroused, hot, achy, and needy. As her body fought to calm itself, she felt yet another orgasm building.
Fitz filled her, almost lazily, covering the silky flesh of her neck and shoulders in tiny, open mouthed kisses intermingled with love bites. Small, broken sounds escaped her lips with each slow thrust of his erection. The small sounds became steady cries as his continued to thrust and withdraw, inch by excruciating inch. His weight and her bonds prevented her from changing or controlling the pace. Unable to move more than her wrists and ankles, Olivia lay helpless as Fitz slammed into her wet body, the heavy weight of his testicles slapping against her tender bottom, arousing her rear channel all over again. Suddenly images behind the blindfold filled her mind in bright colors. She wanted to be filled completely…every orifice. She wanted to see him filling her…fucking her. His large hand found her face, caressing and tracing her lips before inserting a finger between them. She stroked it with her tongue, closing her lips over the firm digit and sucking it fully into her mouth.
The wet, hot suction of her mouth and the wet, hot suction of her dark passage drove him mercilessly. “You like this…me inside you like this.” He punctuated his words with thrusts. Removing his finger from her mouth, he gripped a handful of her thick dark hair, pulling her head back towards him. Tied, blind folded and helpless, her body his to brutally command, she could only respond. “Yesss…Yessss! Please Fitz…please!” “Please what, baby?” Fitz tightened his hold on her hair and pushed deeper into her body…right to the hilt. It just wasn’t enough, this penetration. He wanted his balls inside her, too, and even that wouldn’t be enough! “I need to cum. Please let me cum, Fitz.” She breathed, her body held on the edge of orgasmic bliss.
“All right, baby.” Fitz cupped Olivia’s head and adjusted it so that he had easy access to her mouth. Capturing her lips, his tongue thrust deeply, matching the deep thrust of his hips. Plunging his thick, hard erection deeply again, he held, grinding his hips in circles against her bottom, pumping into her. God, the man was incredible, those hips moved like well oiled pistons. Fitz wasn’t kidding when he said he was a fantastic lover. Fighting her bonds, Olivia tried again to push against him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging in tempo with his lower body, both driving into her. The tension gripping her body suddenly exploded. Flooding her with an orgasm so intense it was more painful than pleasurable. This orgasm was deeper, it pulsed at the very core of her soul. Fitz continued ramming into Olivia’s body, working against the orgasmic spasms that caused the walls of her vagina to grip and milk his erection. Giving in to the sexual haze that now controlled him, Fitz released his seed into her, in a forceful flood of liquid heat, sending Olivia into another round of spasms. Relaxing his weight fully upon her, Fitz enjoyed the feel of her body under his, helplessly convulsing around his still semi-aroused penis. Held down by his body, Olivia screamed Fitz’s name again as she came. She realized that the process of relinquishing control and literally trusting a man blindly with your body, your safety, and your very life, was a soul-stirring event. She knew she’d never be the same. She’d given Fitz something she’d never given another person…complete control of her mind, body, and spirit. She realized she liked it.
The room now held the sounds of the two lovers’ heavy breathing, his body still joined to hers and her limbs still tied to his, Fitz’s weight pressing her into the mattress. As they both began into fall into unconscious, Liv heard Fitz whisper. “You were amazing…I hope you now understand the difference between a man who is controlling and one who is in control…I love you, Olivia Pope.” He was right, he had taken control, but it had been a mutual thing, he had given her the freedom to choose, and it had felt amazing. Although Olivia was not quite ready to say those three little words out loud, the words that would forever change the dynamics of their relationship, fusing their lives together forever, after tonight, there was no doubt in her mind that she felt the same way…
A/N: hey all! so after last night’s winter finale i couldn’t sleep. eventually i started crafting my own version of olitz in the episode. this was typed in the ‘notes’ app of my phone, so autocorrect may be at play here, as i haven’t proofread it at all. i’m not sure how this will be received, but this is my most honest interpretation of olivia’s inner narrative. i’m not sure where (if anywhere) i’m going to take this. i’m still very much devastated by the episode, but this is my version of events. please leave any feedback that you see fit, either here or in my messages is cool. thank you for reading in advance. i hope you enjoy…
Olivia sat on the cold floor of the Residence’s bathroom, her knees pulled up to her chest as she warily looked down at her feet. The polished tile offered no comfort, but she wasn’t sure she would have felt any if it did. Rocking slightly, Olivia pulled her feet up from the tile, hearing the soles of her feet trying to grip the smooth surface, and failing. She cocked her head to the side and squinted at the space below her- now raised from the ground- feet.
She warned, glaring hopelessly at the small stick that sat in front of her. The timer on her phone flashed without sound as she felt a wave of nausea pass over her ferociously.
Olivia bit her lip as she pulled the fluffy white robe to envelope herself in its warmth. She was still damp from her shower, and despite the obligations that pursued her, she was rooted to the spot. She wasn’t sure if she would ever move.
Her period was late.
For the first time in the twenty odd years that she’d had it, it was late.
She’d been on birth control- the pill- since she turned nineteen; she liked not having to worry. She liked knowing that her period came three times a year, typically on the twelfth day of the month.
She liked knowing. Being in control, being sure.
There was nothing sure about a baby.
Olivia clutched herself, suddenly furious that she’d been born a girl. Her body betrayed her sexuality- leaving her with the product of uncertainty, the remnants of passion.
Roughly, she bit the inside of her cheek and felt the tears spring forcefully from her eyes, blurring her vision of the pale blue interior of the bathroom.
Why? Why, why, why, why, WHY?
This was happening too fast. She had been feeling the bile rising in her throat, the constriction of her clothing, the tightness of her smile. The fact that she had gotten sick for the first time in nearly a decade was a testament to the new life- in the White House- that she was living.
It was probably the flu, the in house doctor lamented, and prescribed her a small installation of antibiotics.
She felt idiotic.
The most basic individual knew that some antibiotics rendered birth control ineffective. She knew that too; in the back of her mind she knew that she was forgetting something. Instead of pursuing the feeling further, she moved her attention elsewhere and continued the planning for one of Fitz’s special luncheons. For some reason it was important for Olivia to be involved with the selection of the ornaments for the distantly present Christmas tree, as well as choosing the patterns for the China they would dine on.
What was she going to do? She couldn’t go to the in house Doctor again. She couldn’t allow this to get out, she couldn’t tell Fitz.
Fitz would worship her belly before he could give it a second thought. This was the way he was; so eager, so willing to love and be affectionate.
He was a good father. Despite Karen being away at school, and Teddy spending a good portion of his day with his nanny, he was a good father. Better than his father.
That was the goal, right? To do better than your parents?
If Olivia was being honest with herself, she’d always wanted that- to be better. She craved the motherly instinct, the motherly warmth that seemed to radiate. She wanted to have an easy, loving smile.
Her smiles were strained, and though she often felt pleasant enough, she knew she appeared intimidating and reserved.
If Olivia was being honest with herself, she would know that she never really saw herself having children. Not in any real way. The thought of a family was distant, like a throwaway comment of sorts. She tried her hardest not to give it any real thought. If she thought about it she’d realize why the blinking ‘PREGNANT’ scared her so.
What if she did worse?
What if she failed? What if her daughter or son looked at her one day and hated her? Or barely knew her? Or resented her?
She didn’t want this… The responsibility, the scrupulousness. She did not want it. If she admitted to herself that she was going into this thing broken… Broken and unable to be at peace with her own emotions… How could she raise a child with healthy ones of their own?
Olivia bowed her head and bit her kneecap out of frustration.
Fitz, oh Fitz.
She turned, knowing he was there, knowing that he’d come looking for her. She was supposed to have left the residence already. It was odd that she was still there.
Without thinking, Olivia moved her foot to cover the test, and felt relief wash over her as she realized Fitz hadn’t noticed her slight movement.
His voice was an octave below his typical concerned inquiry. He was tired. He was always tired lately. Since she’d moved in more than six weeks ago, he’d been tired.
They’d had sex a handful of times. A small handful. This was their nature, this they did well.
She could pinpoint the way Fitz was feeling by the way he gripped her thigh. She could measure how angry with her he was by his strokes, either he launched a systematic attack, with each movement careful and calculated, or he lost himself in her. That’s how she knew they were okay. The way he breathed into her ear, his laborious sighs as he filled her, the way he sucked her neck.
That was home.
She hadn’t been home enough lately.
She was floating in a sea of unfamiliarity, of sterility. She hated the pattern of the couch in the sitting area of their bedroom, she despised the fact that her past two days had been spent with a legal pad in a briefing about the history of the courses being served at the dinner that would take place the next day. She felt as if she’d been lobotomized.
She hated it. The fact that she’d shed her white hat for China patterns disturbed her. She was resentful for that. She hated that her intellect was questionable, when she’d spent the better part of her life proving her self. Her wit was only operative to comment on a lesser known fact about some White House showpiece. She was no longer Olivia Pope, Fixer, Gladiator.
She wasn’t anything. Not really.
She was spent and numb.
But he was tired. And he regarded her with distance laced in his eyes. He was tired. Of fighting, of not fighting, of the emotional detachment. He was tired and so was she.
Olivia peered up at him, tears still finding their way down her cheeks.
“Are you alright?”
He asked, after his question went unanswered.
Olivia answered finally, resting her head on her knee and holding out her hand for him meekly.
Fitz raised an eyebrow, but took her hand, for this was uncharacteristically affectionate. He was suspicious.
Fitz got down on the floor with her and held her hand, his jaw clenched, his eyes searching hers for answers.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Olivia gripped his hand tighter and shifted her foot slightly so that the plastic scraped against the tile floor.
“I have to tell you something.”
Olivia began, feeling her grip on reality loosening.
She was going to be worse than her mother. She was going to hurt this child, inadvertently, like she had. Her parents were terrorists, both of them. They used her, at varying times for their own personal gain. They’d destroyed her. They’d ruined her.
They’d ruined Fitz.
How could two ruined people make anything worthwhile? How could she give a child what they needed when she couldn’t give herself what she needed?
But she had to tell him. At the very least she needed to tell him what she wanted to do.
What she had to do.
Olivia told Fitz calmly, still holding his hand tighter than ever.
Fitz’s face contorted into one of mixed emotion, though Olivia could see that he was pleased. He was happy.
Of course he was happy.
“But… Your birth control…?”
Olivia answered stiffly, trying not to lose her nerve.
“That’s… A sign. This is a miracle.”
Olivia watched as Fitz lifted her into his arms, standing up and squeezing her into an embrace.
She hated that she felt like she was suffocating.
But Fitz was gone, he’d started his journey to the moon.
“Of course we need to have you see Dr. Rhodes right away, or if there’s another OBGYN that you want… And you’ll probably want to scale back the amount of work you’re doing around the house. Just to take it easy. I can hire a committee that will take the planning portion off of your hands…”
Olivia’s voice raised higher, drowning out the plans he was making by himself.
“Jesus, Fitz. Please. Stop.”
Fitz released Olivia immediately, hearing the desperation in her voice.
He stared at her for a long moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer his stare.
He knew now. He knew what she wanted.
Olivia nodded her head quickly.
This would be unspoken. The word was taboo, and she’d never actually thought she’d be here, so resolved in this. She couldn’t have predicted half of what had occurred.
Fitz asked finally, his voice no more weak than it had been.
“Fitz. You know us. We… Aren’t ready. We aren’t there. You’ve been ignoring me for at least two weeks now, and I’ve been killing myself trying to be the most charming woman in the room. I can’t pretend this is what I want. Because it’s not. You know that.”
“I didn’t know that,”
Fitz countered lamely.
“What part of the person that I was when you met me made you think that Id be a good First Lady? A good mother? Nothing. Before you knew my parents. Before you knew how screwed up I was. What made you think that I had the ability to be all of this? I can’t. I can’t.”
“Why can’t you? No one is ever ready, Liv. These things don’t happen because you’re ready, they happen because you’re not. You’ll grow into being a mother. You’ll know what to do. I have faith in you, and I know you won’t fail.”
Olivia laughed in spite of the cascading sadness she felt.
“Please. Wake up. Be here with me and be awake. Because I can’t take you telling me that I’m going to wake up one day and not be fucked up anymore. Am I going to wake up and have a mother? A father who isn’t insane? Is that what’ll happen? Or maybe I’ll find a way to overcome everything that’s happened in one night. Fitz listen to what you’re saying!”
Fitz crossed his arms, his stance shifting. He was angry now. She could tell by the way he loomed over her.
“So you’re having an abortion because you had shitty parents? Join the club. We are given what we are given. Either it be shit or sunshine and we make do! You are not your parents, Liv! You’re not where you came from, alright? You cannot use your parents as an excuse to do this. If this is what you want, if you can look me in the eye and tell me that this is what you want, just because you want it, then that’s your choice. That’s for you. But you can’t hide behind Eli and Maya. They made you. They screwed you up. I get it. I understand. But you don’t get to walk around using that everyday. You don’t get to use your Daddy issues to justify your behavior.”
Olivia felt each of Fitz’s blows in her gut.
She felt his anger, his frustration and his aggression coming toward her at once.
But, he’d taken it better than she expected.
“I can’t have a baby, Fitz.”
Olivia muttered finally.
“I can’t have a baby and I can’t pretend that I can. I will be a horrible mother. I know that. Not because I want to know that, but because it is fact. I’m not going to fuck up our child. I can’t do that. I won’t. I’m sorry.”
Fitz nodded, not speaking as Olivia clutched herself, just to have something to hold on to.
“I’m not going to force you to do anything. I’m not going to preach to you anymore. I’ll just say this: you always think you’re on your own… you refuse to let me love you… you refuse to believe that you can be good, that you can have something nice. You refuse to see the good in yourself. I know a baby would. But I don’t want you to have a baby you do not want. The choice is yours.”
Olivia watched him go then, his crisp dress shoes barely lifted from the floor as he left the bathroom, then their room altogether. She heard the door close.
Olivia took a step back and crossed her arms again, staring at the still blinking pregnancy test.
He was right, in some ways. But very wrong in others.
Of course she’d let him love her. That was the only thing she’d been able to do: open herself up, let him in.
Fitz was her something nice. He was what she’d let herself believe she could have.
Stepping forward, Olivia placed her foot over the pregnancy test again, and leaned her weight on it, until she heard a satisfying 'snap.’
She pulled her foot up and examined the damage. Moving away from the crushed piece of plastic, Olivia decided on another shower, she wanted to wash her face, and get warm again; she was so cold.
The steam was welcome as she wafted in the gargantuan space.
Olivia rolled her eyes at herself as she placed her hand on her belly.
She whispered, looking down at her flat stomach. She was being silly, but she felt the tenderness of the moment; it snuck up on her.
“It’s not that I don’t want you, because I do.” Olivia told her belly, suddenly not sure if she was crying or if water droplets were spilling down her cheeks.
“But everything is not for everybody. I’d rather let you go, than bring you here and ruin you.”
She was crying now, devastatingly so. Her chest heaved and she clutched herself again.
“I won’t ruin you. I’m so sorry.”
Olivia slunk to the shower floor and looked up at the descending stream of water.
“I love you. I’m sorry.”
And she did.
She wasn’t sure if she was sorry for what she’d done, or what she would do. The tears were the same. The hurt was immeasurable. Her body ached and her soul screamed. Resting her head on her knees again, she let the water envelope her in a cocoon of silence.
“I love you.”
She whispered to her belly again.
And she did.
(I’m not a writer, I’m an RP account of Fitz. However, I wanted to try my hand at some smut because I’m messy as fuck. Enjoy)
After months of begging on Fitz’s part, Olivia decided to stay at the White House over night. They’d had dinner, cuddled, and now they sat in the Oval Office. Being the workaholic that she was, Ms.Pope refused to leave work behind. Her perfectly-arched eyebrows were knit together, and her nose was scrunched up in that cute little way that Fitz adored. His eyes traveled down to her plump lips. Oh, how he loved her lips. He loved the way they felt as they slid across his own lips, making him dizzy. He loved how her lips felt around him as she sucked not so manly noises from his presidential lips. His pants began to tighten as his eyes hungrily drank in her appearance. From her red-bottom heels, to her perfectly-manicured nails, she was perfect to him. It seemed almost effortless. He continued to watch her shamelessly as she peeked at him. “Fiiittttzzz,” she whined. “I can’t work with you looking at me like that.” She’d put off work to come see him, and she really needed to work on this case. “So don’t work.” He put his large hand over her smaller one, making her close the file. “You have an even bigger case to work on, right here.” He moved her dainty hand to his bulge. The sight of her small hand against his impressive bulge made it even more erotic for him. Olivia said nothing. She just looked at him. Fitz knew that she was having an internal battle. Moving the file to the table, he made the decision for her. He scooped up her little body and deposited her on his desk. “Lay down. Damn, you’re so sexy, Ms.Pope.” Olivia obeyed. This look in Fitz’s eyes was something she was used to, and she loved feeling wanted. Fitz made quick work of her suit before he climbed on top of her, claiming her pillowy lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues battled as Fitz slid a sneaky hand into her panties, thumbing at her clit. She broke the kiss to let out a high keen before Fitz surged forward and claimed her mouth as his own again. Her lip quivered in that sexy way it does as she was brought closer to orgasm. Her body arched off of the desk as he slid his thick middle-finger between her folds and crooked it, successfully pulling an orgasm from her. He bit his lip before settling himself in his favorite place in the world, between her legs. Tearing her panties off with his teeth, he immediately opened his mouth to cover her clit. He swirled and flicked his tongue against her with no mercy. “Fuck.. F-Fitz.” He grunted in response before forcing his tongue into her, wiggling it. His dark sapphire eyes were on her the entire time. He drank every moan, whimper, gasp, and sigh in just as greedily as he was drinking her juices in. She tugged on his hair, shaking as she came again. Fitz stood up and just looked at her. He observed his handiwork of the most powerful woman in DC. Fitz wasn’t a man who liked to relinquish power, but Olivia’s power turned him on to no end. After staring at her, he finally decided to end his own torture. Releasing himself from the confines of his boxers, he guided himself into heaven on earth. His body heated up as her walls closed around him, taking the air from his lungs. He moved her legs to his shoulders, pressing a tender kiss against her ankle. His thrusts were powerful and unforgiving, rocking her to the very core. Olivia’s eyes shut just as his hungry eyes landed on her breasts. He latched onto one, sucking on it with vigor as he gave her a third orgasm. “Fitz, please,” she begged. “Please what?” He spanked her with his large hand. “Use your words, Ms.Pope.” His voice held that cocky arrogance that she’d usually hate. Luckily for him, she could barely remember her own name. “Please… Just.” Her voice cracked as he delivered one particularly rough thrust, sending her into another orgasm. Her body was spent, going limp against his desk as he savagely rammed into her petite body. He eyes drank in his naked form as he approached his climax. This woman was his. Her mind, soul, body, spirit, and heart. She was his. The thought of her being his was all it took for him to tug on her hair and release deep into her. Panting, he put his head on her breasts. “Still want to work?” He looked up at her, his eyes turning a lighter blue. She rolled her eyes and playfully hit him on his back. “Yes, I do, Cocky.” Fitz gave a deep chuckle. “Well in that case, get on all fours.” A squeal could be heard as she tried to hop off of his desk to escape his wandering hands. “Come back here, Ms.Pope. You can’t escape the president!” He chased after her, his smile mirroring her own. He was glad he invited his Livvie to come relax with him.
[Author’s note: This was based on the gifs above which actually belong to kerrybearw, not me. That being said, I felt she looked far too lovely to ignore and that this could be repurposed for a oneshot.]
———————————————————— Headline: First Lady Makes First Pregnancy Appearance and Speech April 23, 3014 “TUESDAY- First Lady Olivia Pope Grant was finally seen sporting her very-visible baby bump in a custom designed gown at the National Women’s Health Summit in Washington, DC. It was uncertain whether or not the First Lady would be in attendance and unexpected that President Fitzgerald Grant would also be in attendance. Following a brief introduction, the First Lady gave a speech regarding increased access to prenatal and postnatal care, and reportedly President Grant and the First Lady remained at the summit to publicly discuss solutions with the Secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services as well as FDA Commissioner Christopher Katz.” ———————————————————— Olivia glanced down at the speech again and a smile tugged at her lips, the growing baby bump beginning to obscure her text. She had never fully understood how pregnancy would affect her body and movements, but more than that, she hadn’t understood how it would affect her moods. There were certainly moments of irrational thought, but they were an easy sacrifice for the simple moments of pure bliss which came much more frequently. There were mornings that she would wake up to the insistent pushing of a tiny hand against her stomach and feel as if she were walking on air the rest of the day.
Her hand rested over the deep purple silk against her rounded stomach and she read over the speech once more, a compelling account meant to rouse up support for the very same care that she had received to become accessible to more women. It had been an easy decision to support, and when she had informed Fitz that not everyone had the opportunities to have the ultrasounds that he had fastidiously attended, he was on board within a moment. She had teased him endlessly about becoming a RINO, but in truth, she appreciated his attention to their first child. “Mrs. Grant? You’re on in two." Her eyes flickered upward to the prompting assistant and she smiled gratefully, taking a steadying breath.
When the minutes passed, the flutter of her nerves prompted a flutter of kicking in her stomach, and it eased her smile into a natural grin that carried her up the steps until she met Fitz’s hand. She knew that even if they didn’t prompt him to, he would have been insistent upon helping her up the stairs. He had practically carried her around the Residence, much to her own displeasure. The loud applause of the crowd greeted her and Fitz gave her one last encouraging hug, something she knew that he did purposefully because she had once confessed her mild stage anxiety to him. She stood steadily on her feet, delivering the first lines of the speech: ”I would introduce the topic of my speech to you all, but I think it’s quite clear: I’m wearing it.“ The brief chuckle garnered her some courage and her eyes flickered to his. He nodded to her; they had discussed the joke the night before when he had told her that she needed to have her jokes vetted.
The speech came smoothly and she gained more confidence as she continued. It was short, but it was her first real stand as the First Lady. She was no longer just Olivia Pope, who was formidable in her own way. No, now she was formidable for the country, and where she may have failed them in the past, she had promised herself that she wouldn’t just satisfy them this time, she would impress them. When she finishes the speech, the roar of applause brings another bright grin to her face. They are ushered off the stage and stay later in the night to address the logistics of their goal, and finally the night ends.
Despite her aching feet, she had managed her low heels all night and is grateful to slip them off the moment they enter the Residence. Fitz’s hand on the small of her back guides her immediately into comfort and she turns to face him. Olivia moves first to kiss him, but is stopped by the growing bump between their bodies. She laughs aloud and he chuckles quietly, placing both of his hands on either side of her hips. ”You were amazing. Astounding. Perfect.“ Fitz lathers on the compliments and she shakes her head, eyes rolling already. ”And you’re full of it.“ He laughs quietly and returns, ”Maybe, but I’m the President, so it’s passable.“ Olivia fixes him with a discouraging gaze, but her smile breaks through quickly. She finds it difficult to keep a stern face with her husband. In the silence, his hands drift to her stomach, as they always do, and he waits, expectantly. ”I think he’s just tired, he might not-“ The stiff kick silences her and Fitz beams. Their son is never too tired for Dad.
SIX WEEKS, THREE DAYS, SEVENTEEN HOURS AND TEN MINUTES LATER…
Fitz was very proud of himself for remaining present in the moment when every muscle in his body wanted to consort together to carry him to his room—their room, where Abby was helping Olivia to get ready. He smiled at the irony. Damn convention. He turned his sentimental gaze upon everyone’s faces just then. Cyrus and James had taken to Eli and Maya very quickly, excitedly recounting their own nuptials as easily as if it were a shared and cherished memory. Maya was particularly charmed because the very same officiant who’d married James and Cyrus, a gentle and charismatic woman about the same age as she, would be performing the ceremony that very evening.
“Ten til Sunset,” read the invitations that were sent to the handful of family and friends now gathered on the large deck of Fitz and Olivia’s beach house in Penn Cove. They sat comfortably on plush, richly colored cushions that had been tossed on the outdoor chairs and couch. The fire pit and a few tall space heaters warmed them as they sipped Prosecco and enjoyed the beautiful cheese platter that James had expertly crafted. That’s exactly what he’d done, after all—fashioned it as a colorful work of art. The platter itself was a large alder wood slab, smoothed down and polished to a fine, golden finish. Pomegranates, grapes, figs and pecans were nestled among Garrotxa, La Tur and Saint-Nectaire. Smoked salmon, marinated olives, persimmons and cashews provided more vibrancy between creamy Camembert and Explorateur, to be enjoyed with thin slices of sourdough and rye.
Dinner would consist entirely of amuse bouche, a reminder of Fitz and Olivia’s first date at Canlis nearly a year ago. James and Abby had toiled a full two days to prepare ten complete decadent dishes, combining their culinary prowess to come up with visually stunning presentations in tiny porcelain Chinese spoons, shot glasses and bite-sized glass shells. There were ten artful bites for each guest, nearly one hundred bites in all, skillfully arranged on individual mirrored platters that sat atop the deck tables on a bed of hydrangeas, snowberries and ivy. But the most beautiful of James’ and Abby’s labor of love had to be the cake. Three mirrored, silver glass tiers of glistening, deeply golden canelés filled with Bavarian cream were displayed on a small round table of their own. Their only adornment was a cascade of edible flowers in shades of violet, Olivia’s favorite.
Garland of fresh Salal, eucalyptus and baby’s breath wrapped around the deck’s rails and the swinging love seat reserved for Fitz and Olivia; and pulled apart the gossamer curtains that hung from the wooden arbor. The arbor stood on the deck’s edge, just atop the steps, like a portal to another world. String lights hung overhead, waiting to come alive the moment the fiery cupola of the sun finally dimmed, and the shimmering mantle over the water turned midnight gray to blend with the sky. For now, though, there was light enough to admire the regal Olympic Mountains and lush green trees surrounding the silvery water of the cove.
It was in the air, Fitz was sure. It had to be. He just knew that everyone could sense the powerful emotions coursing through him; wave after wave of intense feeling that heated him through until he removed his jacket and pushed the sleeves of his crisp white shirt beneath his dark gray vest up to his elbows. Fitz didn’t know a word for it. One word wasn’t enough to describe the immense relief that settled his heart—his very soul; as though he’d been wandering aimlessly for years and had finally found his way home. Or the joy and contentment sweeping over him at the knowledge that he and Olivia were about to brand each other with eighteen carat gold. Or the anticipation of Olivia’s beauty and public devotion that swelled within him so strong, he could already feel his response to her and he hadn’t even seen her yet. There was plenty to distract him, but he only wanted her…