Your Office Obsession Novels & Stories

My Fireheart. Being alone in my office these days has become a necessary evil for me in order to keep my sanity and just be alone. The office is dark, except for the dim lamp on my desk with its orange glow barely touching the piles of paper scattered around me. I hate all that it illuminates right before my eyes. Attack reports. Welfare requests. Medical files. Useless logs. Everything right here is so frustrating and clueless. I don't want any of them to matter, but they all do. They're all ticking time bombs that will only end up blowing up my ass if I don't do anything about them.

He laughed, enjoying himself with the memories as he pulled out of the driveway. “He said he'd have my head on a platter if I ever miss driving you to work and back. I don't want to cross the man.” His words came as a surprise, but I wasn't about to relish the idea of the man I met last night being anything but caring and good. “I need you to take me somewhere first.” I changed the topic, monitoring my phone closely. I spent the rest of the day in my office, reading what was left of the document Gina sent me while I jotted down every change that needed to be implemented and the issues that must be addressed if the company was to move forward and not stay where Morris had left it.

Enzo's pov I had been in my office all morning, swimming in a sea of files that never seemed to shrink no matter how fast I worked through them. The scent of ink and parchment was strong, mingling with the faint traces of cedarwood from the oil I burned to keep myself focused. Numbers, reports, border alerts, training rosters—it was a never-ending cycle. But I preferred this. The quiet. The order. The certainty of ink on paper. Far better than the chaos that brewed when people were involved.

The office has been a whirlpool of activity , louder and definitely more frantic than usual as the project deadline draws closer. These days, it always feels like there is always something new to do every second and something else to correct or adjust every minute. But what weighed on me the most wasn’t even the workload, it was none other than Tristan. Somehow, despite my best efforts to keep things professional and keep some moderate gaps between us, we somehow end up side by side in meetings, or sometimes coincidentally walking the same hallways and then discussing ideas and strategies as if the awkwardness between us wasn’t enough.

"Trust me, the shows are boring ones. The content is useless. As a public, I don't watch either." "My grandfather owns and operates the company. So, I assumed, employees would be active." "But, believe me, employees are the worst." " I don't want to pass judgement on them during our first meeting. However, when I arrived at the office, there was no one working." "Some were sleeping, while others were playing video games." I said everything in one breath before inhaling and exhaling my breath. "Last but not least, the girls have turned the office into a beauty parlour!" A groan escaped out of my mouth.

I had become consumed by this one-sided obsession, and it was eating me alive. One morning, I arrived at the office earlier than usual. It was still quiet, the faint buzz of the lights in the ceiling the only noise. I needed space, away from the hum of my mind, away from the weight of my thoughts. But it didn’t take long before the silence was shattered by the sharp click of Mr. Andrews' office door opening.

His office smelled like him: sandalwood, coffee, and danger. I’d rehearsed this conversation a hundred times since Friday. I had scripts for apology, scripts for denial, and scripts for professional detachment. None of them prepared me for the reality of standing in the predator’s den. The office was a testament to the man who built it—intimidating, expansive, and unexpectedly personal. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a god’s-eye view of Manhattan, bathing the room in harsh morning light. The furniture was sleek, minimalist obsidian and leather, shouting corporate power.

My hot uncle gave me my first orgasm while his wife was asleep. And ever since then, I've developed this crazy obsession with sexual activity, especially forbidden sex. And right now, I really need to get laid because I lost my job...again. "You are fired!" The three words I fear most. The same ones I've been desperately trying to avoid in all my previous jobs. And yet, here we are-again. Honestly, I don't know what my boss was so mad about. Sure, I misplaced a few important documents, but have you seen how much paperwork these office jobs come with? It's like they want you to fail.

★★★★ LTM AUTOMOBILE INDUSTRY ★★★★ Cheng drove into the vast parking lot of LTM Automobile Industry, the world’s largest automobile manufacturer. Towering buildings stretched in every direction, buzzing with activity. He walked straight to his office, sat down, and barely began sorting his paperwork when the intercom buzzed sharply. “To my office. Now.” A deep, cold voice commanded. Cheng straightened. “Yes, boss.” He hurried down the long hallway. When he stepped into the CEO’s office, the heavy mahogany door closed behind him with a soft thud.

"Why have you come? I'm busy." "I came to see you... Do I need a reason to visit your office?" she complained, disconcerted. Then, she noticed the presence of the young secretary and shot her a penetrating look for her to leave, but she did not obey. "Dismissed." The young secretary simply adjusted her glasses, observing her boss whose eyes were fixed on the computer screen. She only followed his orders and was not going to obey another employee in the factory. "You can leave, Luna," the man finally told her, sighing. "Come back when I ask for you."