Multi-Fandom One Shots

Who's In Charge | Oliver Queen

Summary: You, Oliver Queen's assistant, catch an attitude, so he shows you who's in charge
Warnings: mdom, fingering, blowjob, degradation, choking
Nickname: Kitten

You look at the text your boss just sent you and frown. No way you're doing that.

You've had to deal with so many weird things whilst being Mr. Queen's personal assistant. Getting blood out of his clothes, patching up weird wounds, even sharpening various weapons. But dropping a giant bag of money off in a random parking lot? You'd legally be an accomplice to whatever he's doing.

You send him a text telling him no and begin to tidy up. You scoff as you clear off his desk, this is what you were hired to do!

You wonder briefly why you hadn't quit yet, but immediately brush off the thought. You could deal with a little crime if it meant seeing him without a shirt at times. Just thinking about him evokes the familiar heat between your legs.

"Do you understand what's at stake here?" You jump at Oliver's gruff voice. He looks at the bag of money, then at you, and sighs. "If that money isn't there in six hours-" He cuts himself off like he normally does, not telling you exactly what he's involved in. But you get the picture.

His attitude isn't surprising, but you suddenly get angry. All professionalism is throws out the window as you cross your arms. "Why don't you do it yourself?"

His eyes go wide, you've never been so bold before. "That's not important. When I ask you to do something and I expect it to get done."

"That's not part of my job description." You shrug, sitting atop his desk.

"I am you boss, Y/N. You will do as you're told."

"Make me." You challenge, folding your arms across your chest.

Oliver rolls his eyes before striding over to you. He grabs your face and forces you to look up at him. "I am sick of your attitude. The only reason I'm not firing you right now is because I like having something pretty to look at after a long day."

"Oh." You squeak out, gripping onto his arms.

He scoffs. "What? No smart remark? No bratty comeback? Is this what you needed all along? Someone to tame you? Someone to teach you to be a good little Kitten?"

"I-I'm not-"

"Aw, that's adorable." He teases. "Keep stuttering, I like it when you're all flustered. Like the other night, when you were cleaning the slash on my chest. Do you want to see it again?"

"You're so full of yourself!" You try to protest.

He stares at you for a moment before chuckling. "Alright, I'll stop. In fact, you can go back to your regular duties. Tidying, answering phone calls, picking up dry cleaning. And," He lets go of you, "I won't get this close to you again."

You clutch onto his arms as he tries to pull away. "Wait, don't stop." You plead.

His smile is triumphant. "What was that?"

"I'll be good." You spread your legs on top of his desk and pull him closer. His legs make contact with your crotch and you shiver in anticipation. "I promise."

"Good girl." He grabs you chin and lightly brushes his lips against yours. "You'll learn your place soon enough."

He kisses you, harshly pressing his lips against yours. His stuble tickles your face and you relish the smell of his expensive aftershave. You begin to buck your hips into his leg, practically fucking his thigh. He pulls away at once, bringing his hand to you neck. He rests his fingers on the sides of your throat, watching as you squirm beneath him.