#and then when that fizzled out i got a very realistic stress dream that the government accidentally gave me my

[thecubes]

im gonna start throwing things

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Sunshine

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x OC (Evelyn “Evie” Blaker)

Warnings: Smut (male masturbation)

A/N: The block that’s been sitting on me for this story is easing back and I feel pretty good about it!  Think we’re gonna top out around 7 or 8 parts, which is killing me y’all, cause this was suppose to be a smutty one shot.  Lordy gee.

Reminder:  I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tags:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 , @fioccodineveautunnale  

[PART 1]  [PART 2]  [PART 3]

Part 4 

Small Steps Towards New Beginnings

The mid-afternoon sun brightened Evie’s office, giving her a bit of an energy bump as she sat hunched in her chair, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of her.  She was lost in her work until her phone buzzed.  Again.  For the fifth time in half an hour.  

She sighed but remained focused on the accounting chart in front of her.  If these damn numbers didn’t add up. . .  As she wrote down some questions and numbers, her desk phone rang.  She grabbed it and Sarah, her assistant, was on the other line.

“You have a call on line one.” Sarah’s monotone voice came through the receiver.

“I said to hold calls for the next three hours, Sarah.”  Evie’s voice was calm, but mentally she was pounding her head into a desk.  This was too important to be interrupted by a phone call.  Her request had been a simple one and yet here she was.

“Call on line one.”  Sarah hung up and Evie closed her eyes and sighed deeply.  Five minutes, whoever it was is getting five minutes.  And then they better leave her the hell alone.

“Do you ever answer your phone?”  The rich timber of Maxwell’s voice sent a shiver up her spine, but she didn’t miss what sounded like a petulant tone to his voice.

“Not when I’m in the middle of reviewing accounts.  Are you the one blowing up my phone?”

“I’m hardly blowing up anything.”  Oh, yeah, he was sounding petulant.  Evie’s mouth lifted into a lopsided grin as she reached for her phone and unlocked it.

“That’s funny because it says I have received five rather lengthy messages from one Maxwell Lord in the last thirty minutes.  Are you not Maxwell Lord?  Or has another Maxwell Lord invaded my world without me knowing?”  His grunt on the other end of the line made her smile a little wickedly.  If he wanted to childish, then she’d treat him like one.

“If you’d just answer your messages. . .”  Evie put down her cell and went back to her columns, letting Maxwell’s voice drone in the background.  She was only half listening when he said the word tonight.

“Wait, what?  Tonight what?”

“You’re not even listening to me.” He sounded disappointed.

“Not really.  I told you I’m reviewing accounts.  And now you can’t accuse me of not being honest with you.”

“I said, there is a gala tonight, I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t.”  On his end of the line Maxwell looked shocked, he fully expected her to say yes.

“What do you mean?  Of course, you can.”  The look of incredulousness on Evie’s face would have made anyone watching her bust out in hearty laughter.  Was the man serious?  He was serious.  She bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Max.”  Her voice was soft, and he unconsciously leaned into the phone as if to be caressed by it. “I will be pulling long hours today and for at least the next day or so.  The financial reporting protocols put in after Don came on board are super detailed. It’s a lot of work and I must be the one reviewing it all.

“Plus, I don’t have a gown for a gala, and I don’t have the time to go get one, plus the time to get ready.  It’s already three and the train takes almost two hours to get down to the city, plus the drive to the venue.  It just isn’t feasible.”

“Complete your reports on the train, I’ll have a gown waiting for you when you arrive, and you can get ready in the car.  You’ve done it before.”  He wasn’t begging he told himself, he wasn’t.  She sighed.

“That’s true, but that’s not the point.  I just can’t.”

“Evie.”  His tone had an undercurrent of want that he tried to hide, but she knew.  She wanted him, too, and a small part of her wished she lived closer so she could see him whenever she wanted.  But life wasn’t a romance novel and she was a working girl determined to keep the company she loved alive and thriving.

“I’m sorry Max.  I really am. But I have got to get back to these numbers.  I’ll call you tonight if it’s not too late.”

“I don’t care if its late.  I want to hear your voice.”  She smiled softly.

“If it’s not too late.  Good-bye Max.”  He grunted on the other end and hung up.  It wasn’t as if Maxwell had expected her to come running every time he called, but he supposed he did since he was so used to getting his way.  He wanted to see her whenever he wanted to, and a small part of his brain kept insisting that wasn’t realistic.  The rest of his brain, however, seemed to have taken up residence in his pants, becoming more demanding as each day passed.

---***---

The morning after they slept together, Maxwell woke up feeling better than he had in a long time and was nearly giddy when he rolled over and saw Evie sleeping peacefully next to him.  She was curled under the covers, a hand under her cheek and lips open slightly. He could see her hair spread across the pillow and his fingers itched to touch it.  He was surprised how her lying next to him felt so natural.

Most women he bedded left not long after they were done and the few that made it to morning were quickly ushered out of the house.  He had only dated a handful of times over the last few years and each one fizzled out as soon as he lost interest, or they got tired of being one more thing in his life that he controlled.

Evie shuffled around in her sleep, mumbling a bit, before she felt herself bump up against Maxwell.  She settled in and her breathing continued to be even and deep.  Taking a chance, he slid his arm under her head and pulled her closer. He was rewarded when she laid her hand on his chest.  He brushed the top of her head with his lips in a soft kiss and laid his cheek down.  

Mornings were a practical affair for him – getting up, preparing for the day, grabbing whatever breakfast his cook made for him, and then out the door into the office.  He glanced at the clock and saw that it was after eight and he smiled.  He never stayed in bed after five during the week and yet he felt no hurry to get up and chase the day.  Maybe he should take an early start to the weekend and spend it in bed with Evie.

He found himself wondering, again, what it was about her that had him in such knots.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t encountered women like her before – happy-go-lucky women with an easy laugh on their lips and a twinkle in their eye.  And yet the very thought of her turned him on and he felt like a horny teenager again – a simple brush of her skin on his, the smell of her hair, or even just listening to her honeyed voice made him hard as hell.

Stop questioning it, idiot, this small voice inside him cried out. You’ve got something good, go with it.

---***---

Evie groaned as she flopped onto her bed.  What should have taken two days took five and the long hours that went with it were killing her.  She lost her whole weekend to the mess that was still their finances and now she felt like she was going to die of exhaustion.  She thought they were done with the nonsense and yet here she was, once again sprinting a marathon.  Adding this on top of everything else for the last year and Evie buried her face into the blanket and screamed until her voice gave out.

Feeling marginally better, she kicked off her shoes and curled up with a pillow.  The Catskills twilight blanketed her room as she drew her phone out of her pocket and pulled up her messages.  Maxwell had texted her earlier, hoping she was getting better sleep now that everything was done and that he missed her.  Her heart constricted in her chest at the message.  This man.

It had been almost a month since their date in the city and while she hadn’t had a chance to see him again nor him her, they had been in near constant communication with texts, calls, and even a few video chats.  He worked long hours and on occasion, so did she, but they made it work for now.  Her body craved his and she found herself waking to dreams of him, left wanting so terribly that she had to touch herself to find relief.  

He hadn’t been necessarily pushy, but sometimes he got unrealistic in his requests or chats.  But, after their conversation about the gala, Maxwell seemed to step back and throughout the week he sent supportive texts during the day, nothing that required an immediate response but gave her the little boosts she needed as things went from tough to worse.  

She also came to work to find fresh flowers on her desk and lunch delivered to her daily from her favorite café near the office.  He didn’t stop there, he also made sure dinner was delivered and she had to admit that if he hadn’t sent anything, she’d probably would have spent the last five days living off ginger ale and antacids as she had in past accounting binges.  She though wryly of the thirty pounds she stress-lost after Grant bounced out of the company, taking his stolen funds with him.

She had heard rumors that Maxwell liked to buy the affections of women he was attracted to, but she was certain what he had done this week was not the same.  It’s not that she thought she was particularly different than other women he dated (were they dating, her brain asked), but something about the behavior seemed genuine and she felt as if she could become lost in him if he kept this all up.  

Her thumb hovered over the call button as she yawned.  She was tired, but she really needed to hear his voice. That deep cadence that always sent shivers to the most intimate parts of her and wove throughout her dreams.  She still hadn’t figured out why she was so attracted to him so viscerally, but she was mollified with the idea that he seemed just as deep.  

She hit the button.  He picked up on the second ring.

“Evie.”  She could see his smile in her head, it matched the one growing on her own face.

“Max.”

“You know, no one ever calls me that.”

“Would you prefer Maxwell?”

“Only when you come for me.”  His voice deepened even more, and she shivered at the thought. 

“You are a bad man.”

“Of course, how do you think I got where I’m at?”

“Your parents.”  She deadpanned her comment and he barked out a harsh laugh.  She wasn’t wrong.  She giggled as his laughs got harder.  They were both a little slap-happy and it was showing in their conversation.

“Touché, Evie.”  The laughter died down and his toned changed.  “How are you holding up?  It’s been a long week for you.”

“It has.”  She sighed as she rubbed her eyes.  She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to stay awake.  “Thank you for everything.  It made the week go by that much faster.”

“Good.  I’m glad. You sound terrible, almost like you’ve been screaming.”

“I was earlier.”  She paused and dropped her voice, a tone of uncertainty lacing through it.  “Was your invitation to come for a visit real?  I’m due for some time off and I could really use it.”

“Yes.”  She barely got the words out when he answered her.  She breathed a sigh of relief and they continued to talk a little longer about her coming to visit as soon as she could before she became so drowsy that she was forced to hang up.  As she stumbled through her evening routine, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of excitement about a week in the city with Maxwell all to herself.

As she hit the covers and fell into a dreamless sleep, hours south of her, Maxwell sat in his study, cell phone resting against his chin while lost in thought. He had been staring of into space, thinking about Evie and his blood hummed at the idea that he would soon have a whole week of her to himself.  

Finally, he thought. He set down his phone on the desk preparing to get up, but as he kept thinking about her, his cock began to stir.  He remained sitting in his chair as his thoughts wandered to the first night they slept together, and he could feel himself start to harden at the memory of her sighs and moans as he pleasured her.  

He loosened his tie and took it off, undoing the top buttons of his shirt, hoping for relief from the sudden heat that coursed through him.  A couple of times their conversations over the last few weeks delved into more intimate territory and he recalled one of those chats where he could hear how wet she was over the phone.  It was a beautiful sound and his mouth watered at the memory, his tongue wanting so badly to dip into her core and taste her.

His breath began to quicken as he unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeves and rolled them up.  He just couldn’t seem to cool down any, it was as if he was under the unrelenting blaze of a desert sun.  Then his mind took another turn and he was inundated with the memory of her riding atop him and Maxwell was as hard a rock instantaneously, almost painful in its swiftness.

He never had a lover demand so much of him in bed and he was surprised to find he liked it.  It wasn’t as if he gave up control, it was as Evie said – they were equals.  And something about that ignited a fire in his blood and again he found himself in awe at the woman who was doing what no other lover had done before her.  He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and yanked his undershirt from the waistband of his pants.  He was so damn hot.

He shifted in his chair to relieve the pressure in his pants and accidentally brushed his hand across the bulge there.  He hissed at the pleasure that unfurled in his gut and he shuttered. He tried to gain control again, but the specter of Evie Blaker was wrapping itself around him and her ghostly lips whispered carnal things in his ear.  

He groaned as he could feel her ghostly hands draw their fingers down his neck, to his chest, and across his erection.  His whole body felt like it was on fire, the pleasure so overwhelming he could feel the sweat beading along his hairline.

As if possessed, Maxwell’s hand dropped back to his crotch and he rubbed his hand over himself, groaning loudly. The soft cotton of his boxers touched the most sensitive parts of his cock and he gritted his teeth as he legs began to shake. He unconsciously shifted his hips forward into his palm, chasing the pleasure he wanted.  

He felt hard and hot under his own hand and for a moment he imagined that hand to be Evie’s.  To stop the shakiness of his legs, he planted his feet firmly on the ground, forcing his body to shift forward and slightly recline.  His eyes dropped to his bulge, his precum creating a dark stain.  He knew it was his, but his carnal brain imagined it was Evie who left it on him, soaking him as she came in his hand like she did that first night.

He threw his head back, and a flush of pleasure crept up his chest and into his face, making his eyes sparkle darker in the soft light of his desk lamp. Evie’s voice sounded in his ear again, a soft, whispery moan of his name.  No one ever called him Max, only her and through the haze of his lust, he felt as if her use of the nickname was a brand on him – marking him as hers.

His hair fell into his eyes as his head lolled forward and he brushed it away absentmindedly.  He couldn’t handle the fabric rubbing against him anymore and he unzipped his pants to draw out his cock.  It was hard and covered in precum.  

He ran a finger up the length of his erection, and he hissed at the sensation.  Spitting into his hand, he fully grabbed himself and began to jerk his hand, gripping himself harder at the head as Evie had done when she rode him.  His body shook harder and his left leg bounced without stopping as he got closer to his orgasm.

Maxwell grabbed the arm of his chair with his free hand as he began to work faster.  He was so close and yet he didn’t want it to end so soon, hoping to draw out the fantasy before it was gone.  But the ghostly Evie wrapped its fingers around his heart and his hand, whispering for him to let go.  The orgasm that tore through him ripped a primal yell from his throat that almost hurt, and he could feel his toes curl.  He dropped back in his chair, covered in his own cum and his cock pulsing with the aftershocks of his climax.  His chest heaved at the exertion and he was certain he looked a mess.  But, after a beat he began to laugh.  This woman of his.