Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels (What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim-inspired); angst, drama, fluff, smut
Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Word count: 261.3k
Status: Complete
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Inspiration: Stay by Mikky Ekko
A/N: Hiii I am BAAACK! 🫡 This story is finally seeing the light of day after 3 years. I feel a little rusty, especially this being my first new JK series in 1.5 years! But it's also been a bit rough getting back into writing (and in Tumblr) after so long and after the year that was, so there won't be a schedule for chapter releases and I'll probably be a lot slower than usual. I wasn't sure if I was gonna go back to writing but I realized that I've missed interacting with you guys and screaming about stories so I do hope you give this some love. Fair warning that it's a really slow burn and some scenes are reminiscent of k-dramas. There are also sensitive and triggering topics so please proceed with caution!
And lastly, my biggest love and deepest gratitude to @wonwoonlight who's been the sweetest and loveliest person to talk to about everything, including this story. 🫶🏼 I give her credit for her amazing photos of Seoul (check moodboard) and for being the playlist manager. Please send her love as well!💕
summary𞠬: working for nika was always strictly professional but a lot of late nights, hidden feelings and growing tension has made it nearly impossible.
warnings: cliffhanger ending, kissing, boss x assistant relationship
tags: @kmoneymartini @patscorner
the fluorescent lights of the practice facility hummed softly as you quickly typed the last email for the night. most people had gone home hours ago, but when you worked for someone like nika mühl, the day never really ended.
she had a reputation. sharp tongue. unmatched focus. terrifying confidence. and you? you were the assistant who kept her entire world from falling apart.
you double checked the schedule: practice at 8am, press conference at noon, dinner meeting at six and then meal prep for the week at 9pm. you had finished organizing her weekly schedule when the big glass door behind you opened. footsteps, slowed, controlled.
you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. "still here?" nika’s voice carried the teasing edge she always seemed to have. you spun slightly in your chair. "someone has to make sure your life stays organized." you smiled as you spun back around to staple some paperwork and hand it over to her to look over "that’s next weeks schedule and your mom called about your cousins wedding in two weeks to make sure you can fly out." you said as you leaned back on your chair.
she leaned against your desk, tall, dressed in a black hoodie and sweats from practice. her hair was messy, like she’d run her hands through it multiple times. she looked down at the schedule, flipping through the pages, "careful," she said. "you’re starting to sound like you run the place."
you smirked looking at the computer screen, "pretty sure i do." her laugh was quiet, low. then her expression shifted. serious. "did you see it?" she asked taking the seat in front of your desk. "see what?" you frowned as nika slide her phone across the desk. a gossip post.
a blurry photo of her leaving a restaurant with some influencer.
the caption read: "basketball star nika mühl spotted with mystery girl, insiders say things are getting serious."
your stomach twisted, but you kept your face neutral. "looks like the internet’s bored again," you said shrugging your shoulders and going back to organizing the paper work for tomorrow’s meeting. nika watched you carefully. "you believe that?" she asked studying your movements.
you shrugged as you wrote down some notes on the side of a reminder message in a sticky note, "not my business who you date." it came out colder than you intended.
silence stretched between you. then she laughed again, but this time it wasn't amused. "you're unbelievable." you blinked looking up from your calendar. "what?" nika pushed off the desk and paced once across the office.
"you see some random girl online and suddenly you're acting like I got engaged!" she said putting her hands on her hips, "i'm not acting like anything." you replied now fully looking at her "are you jealous?" you scoffed at her remark. "i'm your assistant, nika." she stopped dead in her tracks then stepped closer "exactly."
your hear started beating faster. "do you know how many girls throw themselves at me?" she remarked. you didn't answer she leaned forward a bit bracing her hands on the desk on either side of you. "half of them just want attention, and the other half? they want a headline." she said her voice dropping. "but there is this one and only girl who actually knows me." she just looked at you, really looked this time, like she was seeing something she'd been trying to ignore.
"you think i don't notice?" she said finally, her voice low and vulnerable. your breath caught. "notice what?" you asked, even though you had a feeling. "the way you look at me." your stomach dropped. "i try not t-" "you fail." she interrupts.
it wasn't harsh, it wasn't even critical. if anything, it sounded...honest. you stood up quickly, your chair rolling away slightly against the marble floor.
"i'm sorry" you said heat rushing towards your face. "that was inappropriate, i shouldn't have said any-"
"stop" nikas voice interrupted as her hand caught your wrist before you could step away. the contact was brief, but you froze. "i didn't say i wanted you to stop, did i?" she added quietly.
your heart skipped a beat, "nika..." you shouldn't say her name like that. soft, close, like it meant something. her grip loosened, but she didn't let go completely.
"this is exactly why it's a problem," she said in a soft whisper, almost to herself. "you're-" you cut her off, "i'm what?" you asked voice firm as you tilted your head, she slightly hesitated. this was the first time you had ever seen her hesitate, "you're not someone i can afford to get me distracted."
that felt like a pang in your chest. you pulled your hand away slightly. "then don't," you said, smiling slightly. "i'll keep things the way they are supposed to be." professional. distant. safe.
even if it meant pretending that your chest wasn't aching. you gathered your things, trying to ignore the way your hands were trembling. "i'll finish the rest tomorrow," you added. "i think you should go home too."
for once you didn't wait for her to dismiss you, you just walked past her that was until you reached her and she closed her hand around yours again tighter this time. "please don't do that," she said. you looked at her confused. "do what?" "walk away like that." you saw the look on her face it wasn't controlled anymore, it wasn't distant, it was something real, something raw.
"You think this is easy for me?" she continued, her voice tightening. "You think I don’t… feel it too?" everything in you went still "You don’t act like it," you whispered. a bitter smile touched her lips.
"i’m your boss. what exactly do you expect me to do?" you didn’t answer. because the truth was you didn’t know.
you just knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t something you could keep pretending didn’t exist. nika stepped closer. close enough that there was barely any space left between you. "if i cross this line," she said, her voice dropping, "there’s no going back."
her gaze flickered to your lips for a split second. then back to your eyes. that was all it took. her restraint snapped not dramatically, not recklessly, but in the way she finally let herself feel something she’d been holding back for too long.
her hand came up to your face, gentle but certain. and when she kissed you, it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t careless. it was careful. intentional. like she knew exactly what it meant. she knew you were the one thing she couldn’t treat like everything else in her life. when she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours.
you quickly realized what had happened and rushed to the elevator, the doors shut behind you with a soft chime. the memory of her lips still lingered against yours like if it was burned into your skin.
you should've felt relieved to leave but instead every step you took felt wrong. you froze as you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, for a second your heart leaped. it was nika obviously, you hesitated before opening the message.
'come back upstairs.' you felt your stomach twist instantly, you typed and erased three different responses before finally replying, 'thats probably a bad idea,' the typing bubble appeared instantly then disappeared but within seconds her message popped up. 'i know.'
before you could reply another message came through, 'but if i let you walk out of this building, i don't think i'll be able to pretend like none of this ever happened.' the elevator stopped on the lobby floor. the doors opened. you stepped out still looking down on your phone when you accidentally ran into someone, "oh my gosh i'm so sorry," you said looking up at her. she was beautiful, well dressed and familiar looking in the worst possible way. she smiled softly, "its fine don't worry, you must be nika's assistant right?" she said stretching out her hand.
your chest tightened as you shook her hand, "yes, i am, i'm sorry who are you?" her smile faded slightly, "i'm eliana, nika's fiancee."
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki
Summary: your husband doesn't handle change well and falls into old habits.
This is one of my birthday drabbles. Of course, little lies had a lot of votes and has earned it's own little add on. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
A birthday drabble for Little Lies
You sit up and smile as the man exits Loki’s office. He looks content but your husband looks less than as he appears in the doorway. He crosses his arms and watches the candidate leave. You’ve gone through this routine at least two dozen times this week.
“How was it?” You ask.
He hums flatly and stares after the man’s departure.
“His resume was great. What’s wrong?”
Loki pouts and looks at you. He stands straight and crosses his arms. “He’s not you.”
“Oh, I know. I’m so talented at keeping your agenda,” you retort dryly. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to hire someone.”
“Don’t you understand?” He strides forward and stops just on the other side of your desk. His hands drop to his hips. “You’re asking me to replace you. That’s impossible.”
“Ha, when did you get so sentimental?” You ignore him for the email on your screen.
“Since the day you broke your leg, actually.”
“Shut up,” you snip without looking up.
“Truly. As worried as I might’ve been, I do miss those crutches. You were... manageable then.”
You shake your head. “Well, you never are, but I’m hoping you can find an assistant that can do a somewhat decent job of it.”
He huffs and slithers around the desk. He sits on the corner, crowding you. “It won’t matter. I’ll be a mess without you, darling.”
“I screened him. What was wrong with Peter?” You challenge, leaning back in your chair to face him.
“Little upstart. I don’t need him flirting with my clients,” he harrumphs.
“As if you don’t.”
“On my honour,” he puts his hand to his chest, “I’ve changed my ways. You know it. I gave my vows.”
“Uh huh.” You tut and check the time. “Well, who else? Jacqueline was good. She has a great CV and she’s very warm and welcoming.”
“But I adore the way you snarl at me. It makes me...” Loki trails off and touches his belt.
“You’re looking for an assistant,” you remind him.
“Yes, but I will be losing my wife.”
“That’s dramatic. It’s not like you can’t come see me. I can come back too between terms.”
“School. You’re leaving me for school,” he mopes and shakes his head.
“I’m trying to better myself, Lo. I don’t want to be your secretary my whole life.”
“Personal Assistant,” he corrects. “Prized Asset.”
“Ugh, you are so--” you put your hand up in exasperation. “This isn’t about the job. You’ll just call the temp agency, huh? So, you don’t have to pay benefits.”
He shrugs guiltily as he examines the wall behind you.
“What is this really about?” You insist.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“I swear, I’ll miss you--”
“Yeah, yeah, and I’ll miss you too. Blah blah blah,” you flutter your fingers at him and push yourself to your feet. You go to him and he looks at you with those sparkling green eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and he instinctively frames your hips. “What is bothering you so much?”
He stares at you then looks down. His lips thin and he tilts his head one way then the other. His gaze flicks back up to you. A grin creases his face and he laughs, “it’s foolish. Stupid! I shouldn’t worry.”
“Loki,” you warn.
He sighs. He peeks over at the door and his mouth slants. “You’re going to meet a lot of young men. Like that Peter.”
You narrow your eyes and frown. Then you smile and scoff. You grab his chin and make him look at you, “you’re worried I’m going to meet some young gun and ditch my old man?”
“Old? I wouldn’t use that word,” he winces.
“You really think I would run off with some young hunk? With big burly shoulders and a nice chest...” Your let your tone drift into a dreamy drone. “Oh and thick hair and stamina like no one’s business...”
“Hey!” He pokes your side and you cackle.
“Loki, I’m not going to do anything like that. I’ll be far too busy studying and I’m too old for all that. Those twenty-year olds don’t want me. Now, hire a replacement so I can deal with all this nonsense.” You caress his cheek and give a smile.
“You underestimate those twenty-year old cads. I once was one and I would've pounced on you at once.”
“Oh really. Because you’re like forty and took years.”
“Eh, let’s not toss around numbers here.” He sniffs. “I’m just saying that you are a beautiful woman, obviously. I married you. And those young ones, well, they like the allure of an older woman.”
“Alright, alright,” you pat his shoulder. “Let it go.” You exhale and look him in the face. He stares back at you and squeezes your hips. “I’ll miss you.”
His cheeks dust with pink and he smirks, “I'll miss you too, darling.”
“You better.”
His eyes fog and slowly crawl down. You squirm as he stands, crowding you, and his hands grazes along your sides. He walks his fingertips up and down and grips your waist again. He spins you suddenly, pinning you against the desk.
“Let me be your young gun, eh? Show you this old man’s still got it.” He purrs.
“Lo,” you rub his chest.
“I can’t have you running off not thinking of me and how I’d put any of them to shame.” He winks and leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “Mm, Mrs. Laufeyson, is that what you want? A sweet young thing. I’ve not lost my touch, believe me.”
“Lo,” you put your hand over one of his.
“I feel you trembling, darling.”
“Not here,” you tug on his hand.
“Anywhere.” He urges you back until you hit the desk.
He leans in until you’re forced to brace the desk. You strain backward and he reaches around to swipe the desk clear. Your monitor and laptop teeter dangerously near the edge as the rest of your things scatter. You gasp.
“Loki!”
“I’ll buy new ones,” he lifts you at once and puts you on the desk.
“You can’t--”
“I am.”
He puts his hand under your chin and forces your head up. His thumb rubs along your cheekbones as he marvels down at you. He exhales and tickles your nose with his. You scrunch up your face and he presses a kiss to your lips.
You push against his chest as his tongue glides along your lips. You murmur and try to resist. You never can. His hand brushes up and down your side then hooks up to your neck. He holds your head between his hands as he invades your mouth. He consumes you as he shifts and pushes between your knees.
You clutch his lapel and part from his lips with a gulp. “Loki--”
“Let me remind you who you married, darling. It was no old man,” he yanks his tie free as he clings to the front of your blouse, bunching it as he keeps you snagged. He tosses the silk and draws you back to him.
You giggle, cheeks vibrant with heat, and shake your head. “Oh, I know who I married.”
“And you will keep it in mind with those young lads.”
He pinches a button, tediously undoing it with a single hand. He snarls and withdraws briefly to tear open his shirts. Buttons scatter as he snarls and steps up once more. He cradles your head in his hands and enshrines you in another fervent kiss, this one has you breathless.
You put your hands on your chest, feeling the way his muscle tenses with need. He shudders as you drag your touch down to his stomach and the firm muscle clenches. He growls into you and bends you until your back is against the desk. He pins you there as he runs his hand down the length of your figure.
He hooks his thumb beneath the hem of your dress and pushes the skirt up. You wriggle and feel blindly along his belt. He twitches as you latch onto his buckle. He hums and parts from your mouth, gasping against your cheek.
His belt clinks open at your blind tugging and you pick open his fly. He growls and nips your ear lobe, laying a trail of kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He pants slacken and you push them down with his briefs. He springs free and wiggles his hips so his belt slides lower.
He pulls your rear over the edge and flutters his fingers along your thigh. You curl your other leg around him as he tickles the front of your panties. He presses your clit through the thin fabric. You draw his mouth back to yours hungrily.
Your tongues meet in a flurry of need and dread. You need each other right then and dread the separation to come. You’ve been outrunning that fact. That distance will not be easy, even so much as you’ve longed for it.
He rubs you through your panties until he can feel you seeping through. He traces the trim of the lingerie and peels them away from your cunt. The satin bunches against your thigh as he flips your skirt up and moves closer.
You know each other by touch. He finds you without hesitation. He slides into you in a single lunge and you drone in delight. Your turn your head as his wet lips smear over your cheek. He groans as your walls squeeze him.
“Darling,” he drawls.
You puff and arch your back, hooking your legs so that your heels press into the back of his thighs. You tilt your hips, goading him on as he takes his long, patient strokes. That pace he keeps when he means to torture.
You snarl and grab his chin. You force his head up, “I thought you said you weren’t going to fuck me like an old man.”
His eyes flicker and his lips curve into a devious smirk. He slams his hips against you and you cry out. Your nails dig into his jaw and you laugh through your teeth. He does it again, jolting the desk with you, and you quiver around him.
“Oh, yes,” you grit. “You can do it, old man.”
“Old. Man.” He chuffs out and rams into your again.
You chuckle only to be met with another blunt rut. Your voice fizzles to a squeal.
He traces along the top of your dress and drags the sleeve down your shoulder. He follows the cut of the bodice and uncovers your bra beneath. He quickly pulls the strap down and flips the cup inside out. He fondles you at once.
His hips pump into you, harder and harder. His thumb flicks over your nipple, swirling around to tease. He hunches and dips down to take the bud between his teeth. He snarls and bucks faster. You hug him between your thighs and wrap an around his head.
His other hand snakes down between your bodies. He pushes against your clit, the motion of his pelvis moving his fingers against you. The friction melds into the pressure inside. Your eyes roll back as you cling to his shoulder, your other hand on his lower back, beckoning him deeper.
His harried grunts punctuate your soft moans, the slap of flesh and constant clink of his buckle adding to the twisted melody of your fucking. You roll your hips up into his. Just a little more.
Your thighs shake and the swell in your core threatens to boil over. Your voice begins to crest and suddenly, he stops. You groan and clamp onto his side. You try to pull him down as he lifts himself. He keeps only his tip inside of you.
Your eyes snap open as he flings his tussled hair back and looks you in the face. Your brows furrow.
“Old man?” He challenges.
“Lo...” you breathe, “please.”
“No, no, that is what you said. So, allow me to prove you wrong.” He snickers and nips at your lower lip. “I can keep up, can you?”
He dips into you slowly and you whine. Your head lolls and your lashes flutter. You bare your teeth at him and hiss. “I hate you.”
“How can you hate this, darling?” He rears back and thrusts again. “Mm, I feel the way you’re clinging to me.”
“Just--” You flare your nose and turn your head straight. “Do it. Old man.”
His irises spark and he snaps his hips. You yipe and he twirls his fingertips against your clit. You shudder at the sensation.
“Oh ho, darling, do you want to cum?”
“Loki--”
“Tell me you want to cum.”
“Lo--”
“Beg me.” He commands and pulls his fingers away. The coolness left in the shadow of his touch makes you squirm. “I did vow to serve you, darling, but I cannot if you do not say what you want.”
Frustration, desperation, call it what you will. You whimper and reach for his hand. You guide it back to your clit and growl, “make me cum.”
It’s his turn to shiver. He twists his hand away from yours to grab your fingers and pushes them to your bud. You gasp as he uses them to rub you instead. As he does, his hips fall into tempo.
He fucks you so the desk scrapes the floor and his thighs hits the sharp edge. He raises himself as he spreads a hand across your stomach and watches himself delves into you, over and over. He guides your fingers in a frantic rhythm and the tension clusters beneath your own touch.
You spasm and cry out, legs locked around his as you trap him inside you.
“Oh, yes, make me cum, Loki, make me--” you descend into a stream of gibberish as you contort on the desk. You bite your knuckles to silence yourself, heaving wildly as your lungs burn and your skin tingles.
“Um...” a knock sounds at the door and Loki halts mid-thrust. You share a startled look then slowly glance over at the open door. Shit. The last interviewee, Peter, stands dumbfounded as he peers in from the hall. “I, uh, forgot my phone in your office.”
“Well,” Loki clears his throat and looks down at you with a sinister gleam. “Go and get it. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Summary: You mess up at your new job and your boss doesn’t take sorry for an answer.
A/N: New to this! Hope it’s alright.
You silently panic in the small of your cubicle. You had been only working here at this new desk job for about a week and you’d seen the faces of the people who have walked out his office. So when you had been called to go in there, you almost spit out your coffee. Thinking of all the things you could’ve possibly done wrong, you stand up and slowly make your way over there. The eyes of your coworkers weren’t much help either. God, am I gonna get fired? You knock and with the sound of a stern “Yes” you walk in.
You tried your best not to crumble under his gaze, he was handsome yes but also incredibly intimidating. “You called me here Mr. Evans?” you say trying your best not to let your voice be shaky. Before saying anything, he stood up from his chair and sat on top of his desk. “Look” he said handing you out papers. You took them and seen the markings written over them in bright red pen. “And to think I might’ve had someone smart around here for a change” he scoffed. You stood there stunned. Was he always such a dick? You clear your voice and respond, “Sorry sir, I’ll redo these and have them printed right away”
He grins and slides off his desk, making himself tower right over you. “No really, how hard is it to calculate some numbers and give me what I need”. You look up at him trying not to explode. “I’m sorry, really, it won’t happen again” you brought yourself to say. “Sorry beautiful but apologies isn’t gonna cut it” putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel your face start to heat up.
“So what is it that I can do?”
You took notice in the gaze he had on your lips. He then looked back up, “Oh, well I think you already know”
And with the heat of the moment, you smashed your lips into his. Wrapping your hands around his neck while letting him touch you all over. You moan into his mouth when you felt him harshly squeeze your ass. “Always knew you were dirty” he said while pulling up your skirt and placing you on top his desk. You feel him caressing your thighs and playing with your breast. Feeling the heat between your legs, you squirm.
“Be patient beautiful” He makes his way to your panties and starts rubbing you through the cloth. You muffle your moan on his neck and start to move your hips greedily. “Please” you say so quietly that you were surprised he even heard. Though that was all it took, he shoved your panties down and slipped in two of his fingers immediately. Before you get to catch your breath, he starts moving them. Fast. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the uncontrollable moans escaping your mouth. “Fuck you’re soaked” he says going an even faster pace.
You spread your legs even wider and feel him start to unbutton your blouse. Within a second your blouse and your bra was off, exposing your breasts. He takes in one of your hard nipples with his mouth, still drilling into you with his fingers. “Oh god! please just like that!” you start to feel that amazing familiar feeling. But that’s when he suddenly stops. You could almost cry, “What are you doing?”
He pops your nipple out of his mouth and takes ahold of your jaw, looking you straight in the eye. “I told you to be patient, didn’t I?” he lets you go and gets on his knees, pulling you more towards the edge of his desk. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your lower half and grab his hair. He looks up at you, licking his lips. “Tell me what you want me to do”
You start tearing up, “Please-please”
“Please what”
“Please sir, take me in your mouth”
That’s when you felt his warm soft tongue going up and down your slit. You throw your head back and tug more at his hair. The man was surprisingly skilled with his mouth. “Shit!” you moaned and held yourself up with one arm on the now messed up desk. He squeezed both of your thighs and started sucking your clit, earning all sorts of noises from you. The feeling was back and him adding those two thick fingers of his helped way more. “Fuck! Sir, please let me come!” He made eye contact with you and nodded his head, not stopping his tongue or his fingers. You’re almost there and you squeeze his head with your thighs, resulting in a couple of groans from him and the adding of another finger.
Your mouth falls open and your legs shake as pure bliss follows you, your boss never once stopping. You spread open your legs, surprised his head didn’t pop at the pressure. He got up off his knees and licked his lips, fixing his collar.
Summary: Your boss’ seemingly innocent offer of warmth is not one you expected.
Warnings: 18+ content, noncon/dubcon undertones, power play, fingers at play, tell me if I missed any, Tony is his own warning. The fic is DARK, please consume responsibly.
At long last, my first Tony Stark fic has finally been made! Been really wanting to write him for a while now and I finally found the passion to do so. It’s a short one but I hope it’s a good one.
As always, your comments and likes are deeply appreciated. Reblogs would be amazing for it would help share my work and let this piece flourish. I hope you all enjoy! I love you guys 3000! ❤️
You hit the steering wheel again as your car refuses to start. It’s your third attempt and each time you think it would, the engine stalls.
You check the time on your dashboard and curse at nothing upon seeing that it’s almost midnight. You saw the warning on the weather app and even heard the other employees talking about leaving as soon as the shift was done. But you had to be kind, not wanting to disappoint your boss, and you had to accept the task Mr. Stark gave you thirty minutes before clock out.
You thought you would finish on time. Thought it was something menial that wouldn’t require you to request overtime. But each folder you opened contained the mission sheets of the Avengers, having to enter each and every detail to the dot into the database.
You don’t even understand why they are still being printed. With Tony Stark’s cutting-edge technology, you’d have expected everything to be paperless. You avowed to ask Mr. Stark for a raise since taking care of Avengers’ matters is beyond your job description as his assistant.
Nonetheless, you finished your task and logged out of your computer. Tucking the folders in your drawer and made your way to the elevator in hopes of making it on the road before the snow starts to fall. But alas, you failed, a thick blanket of ice already covering the pavement and now you’re stuck in the parking lot of the Avengers tower with no way home.
You grab your phone from your bag and worry your lip as you try to book an Uber. It doesn’t surprise you that no one would take your request with the weather acting up. You sigh, your breath fogging in the confines of your car as you hit your head on the back of your seat.
A yelp of surprise then leaves your lips when you hear a knock on your window. The image behind the fogged-up glass is blurry. You wipe away the moisture and blink when you see Mr. Stark in all his three-piece suit glory waving to you from outside, a smile on his lips, before pointing at the length of your car.
“Car trouble?” He asks when you step outside, snow crunching underneath your shoes, hugging your coat around your frame tighter to shield you from the cold, a useless attempt as you already feel it creeping in your bones.
“My engine won’t start.” Your voice shivers as you respond.
You watch him walk toward the front of the vehicle, leaning down into the seat of your car to pull on the lever when he gestures for you to open it. He peeks inside and you round the car to peruse all the same. You stare at him when he clicks his tongue, his hand reaching inside to poke at the huge contraption.
“It’s frozen.” He exclaims before looking at you, his hip leaning against the lip of the hood. “Might take a while for it to thaw out with this weather and I don’t think there are any open shops at this time.” He hums before closing the hood. “Do you have any means of going home? I’d ask Happy to take you but he’s out on an errand.”
You shake your head and quiver from where you stand. “I think the weather has scared the Uber drivers.” Your laugh comes out dry and it’s only because you find yourself screwed by the situation you’re in. “I can probably call my frie—”
“Nonsense.” Mr. Stark shakes his head and walks back to you. “You can stay here for the night and we’ll have your car checked in the morning.”
“Oh, Mr. Stark, there’s no need.” You protest. “Really, I don’t think my friend would mind picking me up.”
“Well, if you insist.” He hums, picking out his phone from his pocket before tapping on the screen. “You could at least wait inside than stay here and freeze to death, you’re already shivering, Sweetheart.” He says teasingly and you chuckle at his joke before nodding in agreement, looking at him when he closes your door and places a hand on the small of your back.
-
You blink when the elevator passes the floor to his office, the floor where your desk is, and swallow thickly when you see it head over to the penthouse, Mr. Stark’s personal floor.
You’ve only been here once when he was too beat up to get out of bed and you had some urgent papers that needed his signature. It wasn’t as pleasant as you thought as you caught him walking across the floor with only his boxers when the doors of the lift opened.
You push the memory to the back of your mind and peek into the foyer when the metal barrier parts. You step out when you feel Mr. Stark’s hand press against your back and you carefully pad through the carpeted floor, standing by the two steps on instinct, and wait for him to fully welcome you in.
You smile softly when FRIDAY greets you in her sweet, monotone voice, answering her back before folding your hands in front of you.
“Please, make yourself at home.” Mr. Stark calls out as he makes his way to the bar. “You’re not my assistant at the moment, you’re my guest.” He gives you that usual Tony Stark charming smile and you return a soft one before making your way to the couch and taking a seat, crossing your legs as you smooth the skirt of your dress against your thighs. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Hot water, please. If you have it.” You tell him, your body visibly shakes as the heat of his private quarters and the chill in your bones begin to clash within.
You scan the place as you wait for Mr. Stark to join you. The view from the outside still looks immaculate with how it’s framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the muted light from the bulbs that hang above adding to its picturesque state. You notice that his usual desk is gone, one of his Iron Man suits taking its place, making you curious if it’s the one he uses on missions or simply a decoration.
The bar, as always, is full of liquor. Almost anything you ask can be made with the various selection your boss has. You see Mr. Stark pouring some hot water into a mug and you give him a smile when he meets your eyes, looking back at the coffee table when he strides over to you.
“Your water.” He says with a flourish and you take the mug with both hands. You whisper your thanks before lifting it closer to your face, basking in the heat that slowly bleeds into your skin.
“Still feeling cold?” He asks as he looks at you, sipping from a tumbler that’s half-filled with amber liquid before resting it against his knee. “Whiskey could help, you know.” He grins and you shake your head as you lift the mug of water.
“The water is fine. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
“Please, call me Tony.” He chides with a chuckle. “I’ve told you that countless times and yet you still won’t humor me.”
“I just feel it’s inappropriate to call my boss by his first name.” You reason, taking another welcome sip of the hot liquid.
“Alright. I’ll give you that.” He hums, animatedly tapping his cheek before tilting his head to the side, playfulness touching his lips. “When it’s work hours, Mr. Stark it is. But outside work, it’s Tony. Friends.” He hums, holding his hand out to you. “Deal?”
Even when he says it’s okay, you can’t help but feel weird about it. Yes, you know that your boss is friendly. Heck, you think he could win a Mr. Congeniality pageant with just a wink. But threading that fine line between boss and subordinate to friends just doesn’t sit well with you.
He’s kind. You’ll give him that and you think he’d be a really funny friend if circumstances were different, nevertheless, being friends with your boss just doesn’t bode well, especially with a man such as Tony Stark. He’s already working you to the bone with him being your superior and you dread that he would abuse the friendship he’s offering for you to stay later than usual in the office.
But who are you to reject him? You’re just an assistant. A speck in his world and easily replaceable. You fear that if you deny him of simply being friends he’d put up a job ad with your position on it and you don’t even doubt that it would be flocked with applicants who dream of simply breathing the same air as the man. And job hunting isn’t listed on your to-do list as of late.
Huffing away your anxiety, you smile and take his hand, giving it a light shake. “Deal. Friends.” You agree and you can’t help the shiver that runs through your body when the cold feeling of his hand seeps through your own.
“You’re shaking.” He frowns as he looks down at your hand, placing his glass atop the low table in front of the couch before taking your mug from your other hand and sitting it beside his. “Come here.” Your eyes widen at his words and you try to move away from him but his grip on you tightens and he pulls you closer, your body pressing against his chest as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “There. Feeling better, Sweetheart?”
You shiver once again but not from the cold this time, but from how close he is to you. The anxiety spins within your nerves once again when he holds your shoulder a little too tight, flinching when his other hand caresses your knee.
“Mr. Stark—”
“Ah ah, what did we agree on?” He reprimands you lightly.
“Tony.” You correct yourself, your voice shaking as you speak.
“Very good, Sweetheart.” He grins and jostles you, feeling his hand reach up to peel your coat from your shoulder.
“Tony—what are you doing?” You say as you grab his hand and try to stop him, fear slowly creeping up your spine when you see a dangerous glint in his brown eyes.
“I just want to keep you warm. That’s all.” He grunts and tugs harshly on your coat, the force making you release his hold on him, letting the garment slip from your body.
As soon as you’re free from its confines, you get to your feet and make a beeline to the elevator. But you don’t make it as Tony quickly grabs your hand, pulling you back on the couch. The air in your lungs gets knocked out when you land roughly on his lap, your back hitting his chest—his arc reactor making you wince in pain.
You try to wriggle free from his hold, your hands reaching over to the armrest to pull yourself away from him. But you stop fidgeting when his hand rounds your throat, feeling his fingers dig into the side of your neck, making you cough and choke as you grab onto his wrist, panic surging through your veins.
“Mr. St—Tony!” You gasp, your legs halting from kicking when he slaps his hand hard against your thigh. “Please—let me go.” Tears pool in your eyes from not only the pain but from the fear that fills you.
“You’re not being a good friend right now, Sweetheart.” He growls against your ear before pressing a kiss on your shoulder.
His hand rests on your knee once more and you push your legs together when you feel him hiking up your skirt, fingertips grazing against your bare skin. You gasp when he pinches hard on the meat of your thigh, obeying his silent command for you to part them.
“Why are you doing this?” You cry out as his fingers graze your inner thigh, gasping when he rubs a finger against your panties, a moan escaping your lips as his thumb presses hard against your clothed clit.
He rolls his thumb slowly and you grab his wrist as you attempt once more to stop him. You don’t understand why he’s doing this, confused why he’s chosen to torture you with such perversion when you’ve done nothing to deserve it. When you’ve done everything to be a good employee.
He’s an Avenger. He’s supposed to be kind. He’s supposed to be one of the good guys. They don’t do these kinds of things but rather prevent them.
“I already told you, Sweetheart,” He hums against your ear, pulling you back to have your head press against his shoulder, his goatee prickling you as he trails kisses on your skin, the act making you quake once more in terror.
“I just want to keep you warm.” His voice makes your stomach roil in disgust, his finger pushing your panties to the side and you close your eyes as your body goes rigid from his unwanted touch.
You clamp your lips down to prevent another moan from escaping you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your body responding to his touch. But it’s once more a failed attempt as your lips part when he slides a digit through your pussy, your mind fighting yet your body succumbing to his depravity.
