A/N: I've been thinking non-stop about the emotional states of both Fitz and Liv throughout the series. I usually write them on my tumblr oliviapopesgf if you guys would like to check that out. This is mostly an analysis of what Fitz was going through in the months after Olivia quit her job at the White House, this is also my first attempt at smut. Please leave a comment, it's always nice to know your opinions and it gives me new ideas.
Fitz paces the hallways of the White House alone. Technically he's already left work so everybody's gone home but him. After a day full of meetings he's too tired to face dinner with Mellie so he walks, stopping to look at the pictures in the halls, lost in thought. When his body finally tires he's still not ready to go to the East Wing so he finds an archive room he used to meet Liv sometimes.
Walking into the room he can smell old books and he smiles to himself as he tenderly touches the couch in which he and Liv used to hide out. He sits down, resting his head and closing his eyes, allowing memories to roam free. Fitz stops for a moment and questions if he should go back to the Oval for some scotch. He hasn't been drinking, trying to be more focused on his work but right now on the off chance that his memories will get the best of him he decides he needs it, so he walks slowly to the Oval and pours himself a glass.
It only takes him a couple of minutes to go back to where he was. The couch and with Olivia on his mind, like always. He misses her, their talks, her body. Being president isn't the same without her by his side.
He knows he should be thankful for the knowledge that she still loves him, even though she left knowing she never questioned that brings Fitz some comfort. For months he dreaded what it would be like, the first time he saw her after she left without a word, only a letter of resignation and his pin on his desk. Now he knew their bond was still strong and he treasured always carrying his flag pin on his suit, a gift only Ollivia could've given, a sign of her love, care and belief in his presidency. A symbol of her love for him always with him. He treasures it the same way he hopes she feels about his great grandmother's ring.
Doux Bebe. The last time they saw each other. Before that he thought she had given up on their love only to hear that the illicitness of their affair was what made her give up a job he knew she loved. The weight of her shame was simply too much to face him and the reality of their situation every day.
He understands her reasons but that doesn't ease his pain, how much he misses her. He's completely alone, surrounded only by vultures who see him as nothing more as their golden ticket. Even the ones closest to him like Cyrus and Mellie, to them he's only a prize not a person. With the only person who actually saw him gone, what does he have? He has his work, yet that also doesn't feel the same without her by his side. It's no longer joyful. There's no one with whom he can bounce ideas off, no one he actually enjoys listening to and whose company he craves for. In this big white building he's completely isolated as both a politician and a man.
As if he could magically mend the pain he takes a sip of his drink and thinks about Olivia. Losing the love of his life and the most important political advisor he had all at once. Fondly Fitz remembers how often even when making love Liv would point out ways to improve his public speeches, his policies. If she wasn't intrinsically connected to every part of his life maybe the pain of her leaving wouldn't hurt him so. The way things are everywhere he goes he remembers a moment they had together, everything that happens he wishes he could tell her.
He misses their bond and the feeling of being whole he had while with Olivia. When they made love he felt like they became one, touching her, allowing her to caress his body and being inside her, it seemed to him that those times when they were together were the only moments in which he was truly alive. In such a lonely job his love for her had the ability to ground him, now each day was a struggle to get through.
Fitz allows his mind to wander, thinking about the times he felt the closest with Olivia. Their first time together on the campaign trail and their days of bliss at Camp David. Feeling himself get hard on the thought of her he looks around the room smiling, working had always been such a significant part of their role play. As a tribute to her and to them maybe he should do it here, touch himself. Instead of waiting for a change of heart Fitz decides to enjoy the privacy this situation affords and with his mind set he starts stroking his member through his pants.
The first time they met is one of the first moments that go through his head. Immediately he knew he wanted her. Did he already love her then?
He remembers how she avoided being close to him after he said he was a man in love. After the debate, being next to her in that elevator, the shivers he felt while leaning closer to her, he could barely breathe as he stepped into her space. His proximity to her had a way of putting every nerve of his body on edge.
He strokes himself harder, deeper but never rushing it. It had to be worthwhile, worthy of them, so he focused on the most precious moments in their relationship, the ones in which they were allowed to take their time. Time was the most precious and sacred thing, what he wished they could always have.
Fitz shuts his eyes and thinks about her taste, given the chance he could eat her for hours. The high he felt being down on his knees and licking her every fold. The way she would grab and pull on his hair and no matter how much she begged he would still take his time, still enjoy her moans and how wet he could make her. He groans with the thought of having to press her hips down because of how eager she was for him.
He loved the impact he had on her. How his smile could leave her flustered and the slightless touch could set her on fire. The moans and shallow breaths that followed when he kissed a certain spot on her neck.
His strokes grew faster and more erratic, yet he refused to let his body release. He was going to make this last. His imagination could never reach the bliss of the real thing but for now this had to be enough. So he edged. Everytime he was near his orgasm he forced his pace to slow down, as tortuous as it was.
He misses her lips and her mouth. Her slow kisses, the feel of her tongue on his earlobe. He pictures himself lying down on the floor while she slowly moves down his body, leasuresly kissing every part of him like he's the greatest gift she has in her life.
In his mind he would take her time unbuckling his belt, stopping to kiss him once more just because she can. Then she would make her way down, slowly so they could both rejoice in the anticipation of what they were about to experience. The thought of Olivia stroking him while keeping eye contact only breaking it so she could kiss his hips, making her way down until she reached the tip of his cock, slowly taking him into her mouth. It brings back the memories of how he used to watch her as she tasted him, almost a thank you to how well he treated her, always taking his time.
Now alone with the thought of her mouth enveloping all of his member, he finally allows his body the release it aches for.
"Fuck" Fitz whispers. He has cum all over, on his shirt, his pants and on his hands but for the moment he closes his eyes once again and pictures her face, her smile. His Livvie.
