After everything that happened, you would spend a lot of time looking back to how everything started. The day you first met Thomas W. Hiddleston.

A week before, you'd applied to a secretarial position at one of the largest companies in New York City, Hiddleston & Co., not really expecting to hear anything back with your limited experience and lack of major personal connections. But within three days, you got a call and the first round of interviews with HR. Now you are staring down the flat metal of the elevator as it sent you to the top floor where you'd be heading every day if you were hired. Thomas W. Hiddleston's personal secretary. Now that's an intimidating prospect.

You were dressed in the most professional outfit you owned that was at least 6 months outdated compared to the clothing you'd already seen. The security guards you passed on the way in looked better off than you did. You worried at the fabric and mussed with your pinned up hair, hoping that the reflection you could make out in the metal wasn't how you looked in reality. But there was no time to fix it now.

The doors opened with a small ding and you stepped out onto the white tiles that gleamed up at you like a mirage. A tall and stick thin woman greeted you with a clear once over, as if she was judging everything she saw, almost immediately. You tried to ignore the urge to play with your hair again as her smile started to resemble a sneer.

"Good afternoon," She greeted in a sickeningly sweet tone that reminded you of every person who ever worked in customer service. The hard glint to her eyes and the slight pressure she was applying to the clipboard in front of her spoke of an annoyance or a disgust she was doing rather well at hiding. "Mr. Hiddleston will see you now. He doesn't like to be left waiting."

Without another word, she began a hurried pace to two huge french doors. Her heels clicked obnoxiously against the tile, cutting through your thoughts like an ice pick, sending every previously rehearsed answer to a million pieces. Maybe she was just pissed off because she had to lead her replacement to her boss. You could understand that injustice. But you had no idea how it was ultimately your fault.

This indignant woman opened the door graciously, giving you an excellent view of what a billionaire's office might look like. Modern would be a good description, but it was unlike anything you'd seen represented before. Open windows across the whole of one wall gave a beautiful view of the city, bathing the white room in the warm red of the late afternoon sun. Furniture was practical, the giant desk off to the side was organized, and shelves hinted at a rather impressive work library. It was clean and open, something that instantly made you feel more vulnerable.

"Sir, your 4 o'clock is here," she said unceremoniously to the tall figure you'd failed to notice before, standing in front of the window, taking in the same view you'd admired quickly.

He turned around immediately, taking in your appearance without the same judgement you'd seen in every one you'd walked past. So this was Thomas W. Hiddleston.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It shouldn't be fair that a man could be so powerful and be so beautiful at the same time. He towered above you with ease, his legs going on for miles. He wore suits that tailored to his body perfectly, giving hints of muscle and definition through the just barely straining buttons. And if his body wasn't enough, his face looked as if it had been sculpted by Michelangelo, all strong jaw and high cheek bones, perfectly framing dark blonde hair and brilliantly blue eyes. He barely looked real.

Heat blossomed in your face as you felt his eyes scan your clothing, your ballet flats, and your slightly mussed hair. "Thank you, Jessica. Would you please bring our guest something to drink?" He never quite took his eyes off you while he answered her.

Jessica looked at you expectantly. You tore your eyes from the ground to respond with a small request for a water before she hurried off with a small huff. As childish as it was of you, there was no deny the small smile that wanted to erupt on your face at 'Jessica's' increasing annoyance.

The silence grew a little awkward as the two of you stood there for a second before Jessica shut the doors behind her. Mr. Hiddleston then extended his large hand towards you. It took a lot of control for you not to jump at the movement.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms…?" He began, his voice deep and entrancing, breaking through your nerves to reveal a little detail you'd missed before. Crap. Why couldn't he be a normal, American businessman? He had to go and be British!

"(Your Last Name)" You almost coughed out while meeting his outstretched hand with your own. When you realized how sweaty your palms were, you cringed, wishing it wouldn't have been awkward to wipe your hands on your skirt before shaking his huge, enveloping hand. But if he noticed the dampness, he didn't seem to react in the least bit.

He squeezed your hand gently before letting go and gesturing to one of the open seats across from his desk. "Please take a seat."

You sit yourself down in the seat and watched your boss (hopefully) round the desk with all the grace of a panther before sitting down and crossing one leg over the other, spread much too far apart for the poor seams on his pants. The view it gave you… It may just rival the view behind you.

Despite your tongue tied fear, the interview went marvelous. Mr. Hiddleston was disarming and enchanting, not to mention irresistibly attractive and he knew every way to make you comfortable. It was no wonder he was such a god at business. He'd be able to talk you into anything… including becoming his own personal prostitute if he asked. And it would be a lie to say you'd mind.

An hour later, you both stood and shook hands once more.

"As C.E.O. and owner of Hiddleston & Co. I'm excited to welcome you to our team," Mr. Hiddleston announced with a warm smile. "As you will be my personal secretary, I'm thoroughly impressed with the qualities you've already shown and hope this will be a good mix for you and for the company."

You had to force yourself to contain the excitement coursing through you that made you want to sprint around the skyscraper, laugh, scream, squeal, and hug this untouchable man in front of you all at once. You managed with a wide smile and a reassurance that you'd work as hard as you could.

8 Years Later

"Tom!" You yelled through the cracked door into the officious office of Mr. Hiddleston. He had his slightly grumpy morning face on, though he always looked impeccable. He was dressed in his normal three piece suit that was tailored to his wide shoulders and thin hips. Delicious as always. But nothing would distract you from how mad you were at him.

"Do you mind not yelling?" He answered with a slight wince. Clearly he got drunk last night… again.

You walked through the doorway, accenting the click of your heels that you had been able to afford buying on a regular basis since you started working for Hiddleston & Co. If he was going to put you through his crap, he'd just have to deal with his pain.

"Yes, I mind", you answered sharply. He simply started rubbing his temples like that would help his headache. "Do you mind not giving the office number out instead of your personal when you have one night stands?"

He sighed deeply. "We both know I don't have the time to try dealing with the calls… And they always choose the most inopportune moments to try to get a hold of me. How would it look if I was getting 50 calls in the middle of a meeting?" He tried to explain, knowing it wouldn't do much to help how pissed you were.

"I don't know if you know this, but I am not your answering machine, Tom Hiddleston! I don't have time to break hearts for you every week because you aren't man enough to face them for yourself!" You argued, angrily. It was clear he wasn't going to listen, so it would just be something you had to live with.

With a huff, you practically stomped out of his office and set to the work for the day, hoping another girl wouldn't call in. They did that, a lot. There were those who took the let down graciously. And then there were those that called almost every day. You considered giving Tom's number to a few just so he'd have to deal with it, but your job was a little too important to you to step over that line.

A few hours later, you were still fuming a bit more than you should be, but you hid it behind a charming smile for every visitor and phone call. You really shouldn't be taking the brunt of your boss' private life. Within a few months, you realized that the beautiful, tall, exquisite man was a huge player. Which was enough to stop all possible romance novel plots from playing through your head on a regular basis. On the other hand, it didn't quite keep you from liking the man you got to see at all hours, beyond the facade he had to put on. Yeah, he was charming. But it was the goofiness that had you falling secretly.

That being said, there was no way to envision impossible evidence that a man like Thomas Hiddleston would ever feel the same way on a weekly basis. You'd complain just like you did every time, but you doubted you could ever leave like you probably should. He'd come to mean too much to you. Which is probably what made it so difficult for you. Coming face to face with so many of these gorgeous models he slept with always felt a bit like a dig, like you'd never be good enough for him.

So you just went on, feeling like you were already in a relationship with the depth of friendship and trust you shared. And he knew the moment you didn't tell him you were leaving for lunch how serious it was. Like he always did.

New York was perfect for little cafes and restaurants that are way too expensive for most people despite being the most convenient place to eat near work. And thanks to your more than gracious salary, you had the opportunity to take advantage of them. You took one of the open tables on a nice patio overlooking the busy sidewalks of New York. As a people watcher, it was always entertaining. Some people were put off by the pace New York always keeps up, day or night, but it called to you.

You opened the newest article about business professionals in some magazine you'd been meaning to peruse for a while and read a little in between bites of your chicken caesar salad. It was always good to keep yourself updated on the going ons of the world you were currently presiding in. Or just read through the bull that gets shared with the media for chuckles.

Truth was, Tom had done a lot to teach you the inner workings of corporate business. So much so that you could probably hold a rather large position in most businesses if you simply had a degree in Business. One day perhaps, you'd chase that dream to its fulfillment, but life was too busy right now to focus on school.

"Excuse me," a deep, rumbling voice interrupted your reading. You looked up with a hint of annoyance before being floored by the man standing above you. He was tall, about Tom's height. He had short cropped hair and sported a rugged look you'd think to see on a lumberjack or a construction worker, yet he had an air of professionalism and intelligence that stole your breath away. He had broad shoulders barely hidden under a dress shirt and fitted slacks hinted at how toned his legs were. But it was those blue-green eyes that had you practically panting in the end.

You worked to find your voice as a small smirk crossed his lips. Oh, there was your ability to speak. Always rely on you to rise to the challenge. "Can I help you?" You asked with a small cock of your head.

"I just happened to see your magazine," he said with a gesture to the article lying open on your table. "And I was thoroughly intrigued by the woman who would be interested in reading the boring drabble it contains. May I ask what drew you to it?" He asked, genuine curiosity playing for his features.

You drew yourself up, sitting as tall as you could from your seated position. "Because I enjoy knowing the truth and reading through the lies. You'd be surprised how many hidden truths people include in whole paragraphs of lies when they think they have their audience fooled," You answered with a devious smile.

He gave you an approving nod before appraising you slowly. You felt heat rise through your body at his gaze and you instantly responded to him. Fuck, it had been too long since you really had a man pay attention to you, considering how invisible Tom had treated you regularly. It was so nice to be seen.

"Do you mind if I sit down? I don't mean to interrupt your lunch, but I would love to hear more from that intriguing mind of yours," He requested, though his tone implied there wasn't much choice. Good, a man who knew what he wanted and could be assertive. There was wisdom in not being bullied, but you were the type of woman that couldn't be swayed when you didn't want to be.

You gestured to the seat across from you before secretly admiring the view of him as he sat down. He was graceful, but he was rougher, stronger, something different than Tom that still had you feeling breathless.

"I'm Michael, by the way," He greeted, extending his hand.

You put your hand in his and almost stopped breathing as he brought it to his lips. He kept his eyes locked with yours as he waited for your response and teased the skin of your knuckles with his warm, humid breath.

"(Y/N)... " you murmured softly. He smiled before kissing your hand softly. You'd probably keep that image in your mind for longer than you'd like to tell yourself was appropriate.

"How was lunch?" Tom asked from the reception area as you walked out of the elevator. You gave him a small look before continuing to ignore him. It was going to take a lot more than that to appease you. Even if you just had the best lunch you'd ever had. Ever.

Even looking back now, your hand tingled at the sensation of both soft and rough caressing its skin with a promise. Ok, maybe the promise part was a bit hopeful. It's not like you'd ever see him again.

"Please, darling… I'm sorry… Whatever my reasonings, you don't deserve to have to manage my personal life," Tom interrupted your thoughts with his soft apologies. He was standing a lot closer to than he should, but the room was empty so he probably thought nothing of it. You were friends, right?

You huffed loudly, hoping he would get the picture that begging might actually be an option this time, trying to pretend to be busy by shuffling papers around on your desk. But then two long, thin pieces of paper were dangled in front of your vision. You glared at them until the writing became clear and all anger was forgotten.

"You got me box seat tickets for Les Miserables on Broadway?!" You squealed loudly. Usually gifts like that meant he was going to try to coerce you into something like breaking up with a girl for him, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

And in a moment of foolishness, you spun around and practically jumped into his surprised arms, pressing your body against his in a boundary over step that never really happened before. And the minute you realized what you'd done, you felt his arms tighten around you and hold you closer.

Oh the emotions… How were you supposed to respond to that? His body felt so nice pressed against yours and all you could think about was how if you turned your head to the side, you'd catch his lips with your own, was quickly turning into inappropriate fantasies of getting fucked over the reception table.

But the moment was completely lost as the elevator dinged, signaling a visitor. Tom let go of you immediately and gave you a small, shy smile. Shy.. well that was new. He was still much too close for comfort when a figure appeared in the corner of your eye. You turned to welcome the visitor, ask if they had an appointment, etc., when you froze.

There stood the strange Michael from lunch, looking a little more spiffed up with an extremely expensive suit jacket, but he still kept his ruggedness. Good. It looked delicious on him, no matter how he was dressed.

Tom saw your face and how you completely blanched, so he jumped straight into greeting the man. Michael looked you over, clearly just as surprised as you were. A part of you worried he'd be disappointed you were some secretary, not some wealthy business owner he maybe thought you were. But he'd also taken in how close Tom had been when Michael walked in. Well, there went your chances of getting laid…

"Hello! How can I help you? Do you have an appointment with me or would you perhaps like to set an appointment time?" Tom greeted warmly, his own perceptiveness taking in how the two of you were looking at each other, but not reacting much differently than normal.

Michael held his hand out. "My name is Michael Fassbender. I believe we had an appointment for 2:30," he responded without hesitancy.

"Ah, yes." Tom greeted with the comfortable assurance he always held himself with. "Tom Hiddleston at your service." There was clearly a exchange of appraisal between the two of them as they shook hands, but that was normal when alpha males faced each other. "Would you like to speak in my office?" Tom offered with a gesture to his french doors.

"Absolutely, though I would like to make a request," Michael said before turning towards you. You had a sinking feeling in your gut he was going to disappoint you by asking for water or coffee or something dumb because you were a secretary. "I would love to have Ms. (Y/N) along with us for this meeting at the least. I had the pleasure of speaking with her over lunch and was thoroughly impressed with the knowledge and instinct she possessed for business." He looked over at you, showing you the sincerity in his statement. "If nothing more than her presence would make the meeting all the more enjoyable."

Tom looked a bit taken back by the request but nodded warily nonetheless. You felt a distinct warmth at Michael's praise before grabbing a small notepad and pen to take notes on during the meeting and followed the two gorgeous men into Tom's office. It didn't escape your notice that he said your presence was enjoyable, or the possible double meaning those words could hold.

The meeting was purely business, nothing too complex as they focus on developing a relationship as two C.E.O.'s that would be working together regularly. Apparently Michael was in charge of the up and coming billionaire company Aeron, specializing in making green products mass produced for both other companies and the average consumer. As Hiddleston & Co. was an international company with many subsidiaries, signing a contract was huge and meant a major advancement in the cause he was spouting. Apparently the idea had been rolling through circles for a while now and it finally made it to Tom and he was immediately ready to jump on board.

You took notes throughout the whole meeting, but you honestly spent more time watching both men. Tom you knew. He never played his hand fully, always kept his trump card for emergencies, but his openness was disarming to so many people that they forgot the kind of power he could wield. He was manspreading, just like he always did, but he looked completely professional, giving Michael the entirety of his attention. He was clearly in control but never flaunted it.

Michael, on the other hand, was a whole new beast. You watched his body language speak of a confidence and sureness that he shouldn't possess outside of his territory. He was asking for something, but nothing ever came out as a request, showing absolutely zero sign of weakness of budging, even when he was adapting things to the preference of others. When he gave a mile, it felt like a centimeter. His dominance was like taking a puff of a cigarette. It could be overbearing at first, but the smoothness begins to call to you.

And you somehow found yourself unable to control the thoughts running rampant in your mind. Michael's face then Tom's then Michael and back again were doing all sorts of unspeakable things to you in your mind as you tried to concentrate. It didn't help that you could literally feel it when Michael's gaze drifted from Tom to you. It was like getting hit with a wave of heat immediately.

An hour later, your panties were absolutely ruined and you were thankful you were wearing black just so no stain would be evident. Tom and Michael shook hands and unceremoniously ended the meeting before heading over to the reception area so you could set up another time for them to meet.

Just as you were expecting him to leave, Michael caught your attention, completely oblivious to the curious and slightly annoyed looks coming from Tom.

"Ms. (Y/N), would you mind if you walked me down to the lobby? There is a matter I'd like to discuss with you," He requested in the way only he could. And with a flustered face and a blush, you walked into the elevator with him, ignoring the looks Tom was giving you as well now.

The elevators closed with a loud noise and you found yourself sucked into an awkward silence. He didn't even look bothered by it for a second.

And halfway down, he hit a button to stop the elevator in its tracks.

Only a idiot or a man who paid way too much attention would be brave enough to make an assumption that quick, but in the darkness of the emergency lights, you watched him close in on you with the same bravado he held in a corporate meeting. And without a second thought, he kissed you hard.

You know how some people with a elevator phobia worry about losing air? Just tell them the odds are you'll be fine. Unless you are stuck in an elevator with Michael Fassbender and he decides to kiss you.

Because he doesn't just caress you with his lips, he devours you. And all you can do is hold on.

So hold on is what you did as you kissed him back. Maybe it was the fact you hadn't been laid in over a year and the last time you had sex was absolutely pitiful, but you weren't going to tell him no. Even as he pressed you against the railing and explored every inch of your mouth. His scruff added to the sensation by throwing you off the cliff of bliss and pain while waving at you the whole way down.

You found your body going into a frenzy under the weight of him, your hands desperate to explore him, maybe desperate for a quick fuck in an elevator, whatever, but they came to the front of his trousers rather quickly when he stilled against you.

He let out a deep chuckle against your lips before pulling away to look you in the eye. "Love, as much as I'd honestly love to fuck you here and now, I'm not a man who gets off on one time fucks. You're much too intelligent for me to use you as such," he complimented, much like facing an adversary of equal mind and intelligence. It felt more like a face off than the desire you were hoping for. But the respect he maintained, no matter how desperate you were, was so wonderful.

"Try not to be too disappointed," he assured with a small nip on your pouting lip. "I can promise that given the chance to treat you the way you've always deserved, I will deliver on every desire running through that beautiful mind of yours. That being said, I won't be another man that takes what he wants and abandons you in the course of a day. So please, find it in you to trust me." With that, he kissed you again, this time slower, like a seal to the promise he just made.

You sighed softly, thinking to your vibrator that was going to get a workout tonight. He had a wonderfully smug look on his lips as he turned the elevator back on and soothed the lines in his jacket before taking your hand in his and kissing it once more.

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have moved so fast," he apologized, showing a hint of weakness in those blue-green eyes of his. Wow… faces down billionaires without flinching, but shows regret just from kissing you. "I was so surprised by seeing you again and then watching you during that meeting… I've never been affected this way by anyone. And I intend to make it special", he explained softly, all the while stroking your hand reassuringly.

The elevator doors finally signaled that you'd arrived at the lobby and you found yourself regretting that he had to leave. But you were in a daze after that kiss. It would take time to come down from that kind of high.

Michael stepped out just enough to keep the doors from closing before leaning in and giving you a final kiss, his lips soft against your own. It escaped your notice that there probably a lot of coworkers around you that would be spreading all sorts of gossip over that kiss, but you'd hear about it later.

He pulled away with a soft smile and made one final promise:

"This is just the beginning, love. I'm no where near done with you."

And just like that, he turned around and left, sauntering off much too perfectly.