AN: Mature Content :) xx
"What are you wearing?"
It, of course, started as a joke. Something Fitz would say to lighten the mood, take the pressure off whatever stressor was weighing them down at the time. He would whisper it to her, sneakily, playfully, and would delight in hearing the titter of her laughter over the phone.
Olivia would laugh and wave him off and hang up, feeling at least a little bit lighter than she did before he called.
That was, until it was no longer a joke. When he started murmuring it to her at ungodly hours of the night.
When she startled awake from her dreams, panting, shaking, wet. When she called him and whimpered that, although she didn't want to admit it, she missed him.
When he worked late nights in the Oval and needed a way to shut his brain off. When he woke up, painfully hard and aching, wanting nothing more than to hear her voice. Hear the way she moans for him when she touches herself.
When they can't be together but every cell in their bodies ache, desperate for one another. It's irrepressible, the way they crave each other.
So, naturally, when he finishes his final glass of scotch for the night and it's 1:27AM and his phone starts ringing, he knows. It's mildly ridiculous the way his body immediately relaxes, while at the same time, his senses heighten, his cock hardening as he sneaks away quickly to closest adjoining bedroom.
He likes when it happens like this—when he's left the office, when he knows she's not working anymore, when the only intention they have is glorious pleasure.
"Hi, pretty girl," Fitz murmurs into the phone, deep and low.
"Hi, I—" she starts, her voice already wispy and light, like it is when she's just woken from sleep.
He hums, acknowledging that she wants to tell him what she wants. What she needs. But he just hums and cuts her off because she doesn't need to explain—they both know what this is.
The question is asked, almost immediately, because really there is no reason to wait. His cock is already fully hard, and he demands to know exactly what she looks like. If he can't have her in his arms, he can worship every inch of her in his head.
"It's already off—yes, the nightgown I wore in Houston—it's on the floor. I just- it was too hot and… Yeah, they are still on—the sheer white ones, with the lace at the hips—yes, those."
His answering moan is already dark and possessive, imagining her bare breasts on display, her slick folds visible through the see-through fabric. The thought alone makes him rock eagerly into his own hand, quelling the persistent ache momentarily.
"Tell me, love. You were sleeping?"
Her breathing is shaky, shallow. "Yeah—we were…the house. Just us in bed together. It was so real, I could feel you inside of me, on top of me. I didn't want to wake up… Fuck, I miss you."
It's almost heart-breaking, hearing her whimper vulnerabilities, things she would never say to him outside of these hours, these phone calls. As much as he loves it, he also can't fucking stand it.
"Shh, Livvie. I'm here… Shh… Let me take care of you…"
"Please, I can't—"
He can picture her body vividly, writhing alone in her bed, trying to grind against her palm over her panties, knowing she won't fully touch herself until he tells her to.
"Don't rush me… Do you have your—"
"Yes—"
It's one of Olivia Pope's only shortcomings. Her fingers have never been enough. Over the years, she's tried helplessly to get herself off, slippery fingertips rubbing circles on her clit, two small digits curled inside herself. With his words helping her, it's fun, but ultimately if she wants to imagine, if she wants to pretend that he's really with her, she needs assistance.
Five years ago, she was horrified when Abby hosted a "you need to get laid, or at least have an orgasm" intervention and gifted her the small, purple bullet vibrator and the decently sized dildo, now sitting on her nightstand. While she wouldn't have ever considered herself a prude, Olivia found herself mildly nauseated by the way-too-realistic phallus with its faux-veins and skin-like texture.
It wasn't until one of their ill-advised sleepovers that Fitz was made aware of its presence, having opened her nightstand in search of tissues only to be greeted with the pale, silicone cock. He teased her mercilessly about it that night.
That was, until he called her weeks later and spoke softly about how he wanted her in every way, every position imaginable, and realized she couldn't make herself come from his words and her fingers alone. And while she would be lying if she said she was completely satisfied from it, her body had decided that it was an acceptable substitute for the time being.
"So good. Such a good girl for me… So beautiful, I love your skin… Can you feel my hands on you?"
She immediately switches the phone to speaker and sets it beside her, her palms beginning to drag up her body, trying to pretend they are his. "Yes, I like it when you touch me—"
"I know you do. Makes you feel small…submissive… Doesn't it? My hands map out your body and it makes you soaked because you know that you can let go. You can let me have control for a little bit, huh?"
"Uh-huh, Fitz—" Her whimpers escalate quickly, and he knows what she's trying to do.
"What did I tell you? I'm not rushing tonight… I'm taking my time with you, so slow down, Livvie."
That's not the answer she wants, but when it's late and she's this turned on and this in love with him, she's obedient. Her fingertips switch from pressing and pushing to grazing and trailing, and she fights with her own desire to slip a hand under the waistband of her underwear.
"Mmm, that's it… So, tell me, sweetheart. How do you need me tonight? Are we going sweet and soft, or fun and dirty?"
"Either…both… I don't care, I just need—"
"Geez, Livvie," he chuckles in her ear, "someone is veeery needy tonight…"
"Fitz—"
"Okay, okay. Relax—I want to tell you a story… I need to make sure you're nice and wet—that you're ready for me to take you… Can you listen, Livvie?"
"Yes—please—"
"Good. Something happened the other day, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it… You see, I was getting dressed…chose that close-tailored grey suit you like. Lots of meetings that day, I thought, 'I might as well wear a favorite.' Well, I got about halfway through the day before I reached into the breast pocket, and you'll never guess what I found… Do you know what I found, Livvie?"
She doesn't say anything but smiles knowingly.
"You wanna tell me how a red, lacey thong ended up in my suit pocket?"
He can hear her precious giggle against his ear, and he can't help but grin warmly.
"Hmm, women's underwear in your jacket? That is quite odd, Fitz…"
"Hmm, yes, Olivia, quite odd. But I thought to myself, 'what a spectacular gift someone has left me. They are quite beautiful…' You wanna know what I did?"
He pauses briefly but, again, doesn't wait for her to respond.
"I headed back up to the Residence, threw the door closed, and pulled my cock out. I could fucking smell you in the Oval—you always make me so hard, Livvie. Smell so fucking good… Just wanted to taste you… Felt so dirty, jacking off with one hand, your goddamn panties in the other…"
She gasps in surprise. Of course, she had left them for him, but this… was unexpected.
"I came so hard—next time I see you, I'm going to need a new pair… You should have seen it, mopping my cum up with your dirty little thong… Felt so filthy, but I knew you would love it."
God, he loves hearing her moan and whimper from his voice alone. Though he can't see her, he knows she isn't touching her cunt yet because they've done this enough times that he knows how she sounds when she does. He can hear the sheets rustling around her, so he pictures her squirming in bed, rubbing her thighs together tightly.
"Baby—"
"Where are your hands, love? Can you bring them to your chest for me? Are your nipples hard and aching? Mmm, I love your tits—so perfect. Let me hear you… Yeah, like that. I wish I could see you with your fingers pinching your nipples… My pretty girl…"
Fitz finally relaxes back into pillows of the annoyingly pristine bed of this White House guest room, letting himself undress a little until the only items remaining are his boxers and soft white undershirt. His head is foggy with arousal and tipsy from the scotch, but he never minds feeling intoxicated on her.
"Fitz, I need more, please… Let me—"
"Go ahead. Get your vibe first. Turn it on low—only one click—mmhmm, I can hear it… Trace it up along your belly… Now between your breasts… Circle your nipples… Yes, baby, go ahead. On your clit—but only for a second. Nuh-uh, don't take them off yet. You can do it over your panties…
"Awh, so, so, horny, aren't you?" He's being a bit condescending now, hearing the way she whines pitifully for him, but for whatever reason, she likes when his voice takes on this tone.
The vibe feels perfect, even with the barrier between the toy and her skin. She presses and circles enthusiastically, knowing he's about to tell her to pull it away, so she groans and pants and enjoys the vibrations rippling through her while she can.
Then, he's doing just that, commanding that she turn it off again and set it to the side. The next second, he's telling her to slide her panties down and chuck them off the bed. He has half a mind to ask her to send him a picture of them—so he can see how wet they are, but he's getting impatient and knows she could be seconds away from telling him to "fuck off" and chasing her orgasm on her own, so he doesn't.
Whenever she's naked in her own bed, alone, Liv can't help but realize just how cold it feels—how despite his words and her imagination, nothing can make up for his warmth. Nothing can replace how much she truly needs him.
Her palms continue sliding along her body, trying to simulate how his feel when they are in bed together. She avoids where she's aching the most, because as much as his pace is killing her, she wants to please him, badly.
"Mmm, I can almost see you, baby. I love seeing you, flushed and hot. The way your body moves—fuck, I miss you…"
"Please, baby—need you—"
"You want my fingers first? Yeah? Hmm, you're so sweet… Just waiting for me to fill you up like you need, like you deserve…"
She follows his every word, one finger tracing around her entrance, then two, then one finger sliding along the length of her folds, then two. He loves to make her tease herself… He loves to do it himself even more, knowing how it makes her belly tremble and cunt drip.
Finally, finally, he lets her keep going, pushing two drenched fingers into herself, and the resulting sob she lets out in relief demands for him to cup his bulge and start rocking into his own hand. "That's it… Love having my fingers in you… Always so gorgeous when you ride my hand, when you gush all over my fingers like this…"
"It's not—fuck—not enough… I need all of you… please, please, please—"
Her begging makes him weak, so as much as he wishes he could draw it out, he can't anymore. His cock is out of his boxers and into his grip as soon as he tells her to take her fingers out.
"Wanna taste you… Can you taste yourself for me, Livvie? Tell me…"
He can hear her lips smack softly as her finger leaves her mouth. "I—it's not the same. Tastes better on your tongue…"
"Damn right it does. Fuck, Livvie, so good for me."
"Fitz—are you…" Her voice trails off—she's never been very good at talking dirty with him. He always takes the lead, and she's happy to just follow where he takes them. She wants to know, wants to picture what he's doing, but can't seem to use the words to ask.
"You wanna know if I'm touching myself? Yes, baby—I'm so hard for you—"
"I wish I could see—fuck, this is all so ridiculous… Need you…" Her whine is escalating, sobs echoing in the dark.
"Shh, I'm right here—I'm with you, remember? Can't wait to be inside of you…"
He pauses briefly because he can hear her shifting around, likely arranging the sheets and grabbing the dildo from the nightstand, putting the vibrator close by in case she needs it too, tonight.
"I want you—I'm ready, Fitz—"
"Okay, baby. I'm here… You know how I like to start with just a little bit at a time… Just the tip, sliding through your folds, getting me wet and slippery. Start at your entrance, sweetheart, and glide up to your clit—no, not inside yet—uh-huh, like that… Love using my cock to rub your clit, don't you? Does it feel good, the head of my cock teasing you like this?"
Olivia is so far gone already. The husky tone of his voice. The sound of a cap opening and clicking closed. The slippery sound of his hand jerking himself, moving through the slick lube he retrieved.
She lets herself be consumed by it all, listening to the sound of his strokes and his filthy words, while she rubs the toys back and forth along her folds until she's satisfied with how easily it glides. When the toy finally notches at her entrance on the next stroke, Fitz can tell by the way her breath catches.
"Go ahead, pretty girl. Mmm, I can feel you… Taking every inch of me… Yeah, keep going—I want you to take it all. Looks so fucking good, my cock stretching you open. Love when you're on your back like this—love looking into your eyes while I feel you pulse around me…"
The noise he can hear through the phone is obscene as her hand starts to speed up, moving the dildo in and out of herself quicker now, the sloppy sounds already bringing him close to the edge.
"What else, baby?"
"What else? You know I love to take you anyway I can… How do you want it tonight? On your back? On your knees? Rocking in my lap? You wanna ride me, Livvie?"
She groans, wanting anything and everything at the same time. "I—want you to take me…from behind…"
"Fuck, baby. I'd love that… You have the sexiest back… You wanna be on your knees? Your side? Your tummy? Yeah, that? Okay, turn over for me… put a pillow under those hips… Mmm, god, your fucking ass…"
He's not ashamed of how much he loves every part of her body, how much he wants to worship every inch of her skin. It makes her hot hearing his praise, letting his reverence wash over her. The flush rises up her chest as she makes herself comfortable on her belly, ass hiked up in the air slightly.
She can just reach around herself enough to push the dildo back into her pussy, and with her cheek pressed against the mattress, she revels in the change of sensation. From this angle, the toy presses firmly against her front wall, the tip grazing her cervix, the girth stretching her folds, feeling every ridge just like she does when Fitz takes her this way.
It's heavenly.
"Oh fuck, Livvie—so good. Can't believe I get to fuck you like this—Love seeing you laid out for me…watching myself slide in and out of your cunt… We look so good together, I wish I could see you right now…
"Want me to keep your legs together? You're so tight like that—maybe lean down to whisper in your ear, talk you through it, tell you how good you are, how sweet, how perfect you feel on my cock… Yeah? You want that?"
Her hips are grinding restlessly as she nods and cries out to him, trying to fuck herself back onto the silicone toy, her clit throbbing for attention.
His hips are thrusting too, his hand working over his length quickly, efficiently, trying to negotiate getting her off first before he passes the point of no return.
"I… I need to come-" Liv whimpers, her voice muffled through the pillow and mattress.
"Mmm, are you gonna come on my cock, baby?"
His left fist speeds up, squeezing at the base, twisting lightly at the head. His right hand moves to finally put the phone on speaker so his free hand can tug and caress his balls, kneading them with the pressure he likes. He wants to be right there, so he can come when she does.
"Fuck—I don't… can't…"
He can hear the mounting frustration in her voice, so close to her climax but unable to summit. "You want your vibrator? Yeah? Okay, turn it on—yeah, on your clit, little circles—wish it was my tongue… No, no, not yet… I'm staying inside you until you come. Keep it in…good… I need you to come all over my cock, right, pretty girl?"
She gasps, and he knows immediately that she's—
"Oh- I'm gonna—"
It's all fast from there on, his ramblings spurring them both to completion.
"Fuck, fuck, come for me, Livvie. Need you to, so I can too… Yeees, oh god… I'm close— Gonna come inside you, right in that perfect cunt… make you so full of me… Fuck, fill you up with my cum… Your cunt always looks so pretty, dripping with me… Always want my cum in you—know you're mine—you can do it, come on baby—oh fuck, I'm—"
Their phones exchange a beautiful cacophony of swearing and moaning, quivering voices and hearty groans, as they both come.
Olivia keens, biting down on the pillow to stifle the sounds she's making, riding out the wave until the vibrations are too much and she's shaking and oversensitive. She clicks the vibrator off and tosses it aside before flopping onto her back and slowly easing the dildo out of her with a wet pop.
As she tries to catch her breath, she listens to the noises coming from her phone—the slick sound of Fitz stroking himself to completion until he's sated and oversensitive too. She hears the rustling of tissues and imagines him trying to tidy up, cleaning the white streaks from his knuckles and shaft, wishing she was there to do it for him.
Silence washes over them, long minutes of listening to each other breathe through the phone. It's late, but neither of them wants to be alone, so they lay together as they continue to come down.
They don't need words for this because everything that they want to say has been said so many times before—I love you—I don't want it to be like this—I miss you—I want you—Please, can we try again—Why can't it be different for us—
Surely, they will start it all over again the next night when one of them calls the other, because that is what two recklessly-in-love people do. But for now, the red buttons are pressed, the calls ended, and they remain resigned to their current situation, sated but not satisfied.
AN: I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot! I had so much fun writing it. Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought! Should I make a series of phone calls, maybe? xx