A/N: I was hoping to post the chapter tonight but I'm helping out a friend temporarily (job stuff not friend stuff), and it's crazy and I'm kicking myself for it right now. So it's not done. But I can give you a preview...
Jillian didn’t pull out of the airport right away. She'd been your best friend since elementary school, and she could read you just as well as your family. She just reached across the console and squeezed your hand before starting the engine. It was the one thing you'd always appreciated about her so much. She always knew when to put the snark away and when to be the best friend you could ever have.
You made it halfway down the access road before the tears came. The quiet ones that spilled from your eyes while you stared out the window and tried to breathe.
Jillian just waited.
“I’m really glad I went,” you told her. That was true.
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. “I know.”
“I needed to go,” you continued. “Just seeing him, and getting to be with him... I needed to know he was real. That it hadn't been only in my head.”
She cut you a look, sharp and perceptive. “And?”
“And now I’m scared,” you admitted. “Because it is real. And there’s still so much between us. A marriage with kids. A whole ocean.”
You told her about all of it. You explained that the divorce was in progress, but would probably be three or four more months. You mentioned that Danielle still lived in that house part-time. You told her about the kids and how much you already cared about them.
And then you brought up the questions that preyed on your mind at night. Would you ever be enough? Would you actually ever fit into his family without breaking something? Would Danielle hate you? Would Jim decide it was all just too much?
“I just don’t want to be another thing he has to deal with,” you said. “He’s already carrying so much, Jillian, and now there's me and...”
Jillian really listened without interrupting you or her usual jokes. “Okay. But how did he act?”
You thought about it. The way he’d looked at you like the room narrowed when you entered it. You remembered how he was careful with your panic attack that day. He hadn’t hid his upset when Danielle surprised him by bringing Robert home for dinner, and how protective Jim was of the kids. He'd been so honest.
“He was upset,” you said. “No, actually, he was just… hurt. It wasn’t about him. It was about the kids. She didn't warn them.”
“And when he talked about you?” Jillian pressed.
You swallowed. “He got emotional. Like… genuinely wrecked. He said the two months we barely talked scared him. That he didn’t know where we stood... And he wants to talk every day now.”
Jillian let out a slow breath. “Oh,” she said. Then smiled without her usual mischief. “Oh, girl.”
You frowned. “What?”
She glanced at you again quickly, her eyes bright. “He has all that going on and he wants to talk to you every day?”
You blew out an exhale. “He’s still married.”
“He’s still untangling,” she corrected. “Not the same thing. Now listen to me, because this matters.” She pushed up the signal wand and changed lanes, checking her mirrors. “A man who gets emotional about there not being enough communication with you is not a man looking for an exit.”
“But what if it’s too much?” you whispered. “What if one day he just decides—”
“That the woman who flew across an ocean to face her fears just to see him is too inconvenient?” Jillian finished gently. “No.”
She eased into traffic on I95, her voice steadier now. “Jim didn’t minimize what happened with Danielle. He stayed with you through that panic attack. He didn’t rush you or guilt you, right?”
You shook your head.
Jillian smiled then—that smile. "He wants a future with you. He's not just killing time.”
You leaned back against the seat, exhaustion finally catching up. “And the kids?”
Jillian didn’t hesitate. “They’ll be fine. If he's balancing a divorce and taking care of his kids, he can balance his kids and you. That’s rare. And that’s worth waiting for. You said they're great kids, right?"
You nodded. You only spent time with them that one evening when Danielle invited you over for dinner. You remembered Alannah making you promise to come back to see her. Ben's shy smile.
The Jeep rolled on, the city coming into view as you watched.
“You went,” Jillian said. “You even surprised him. You saw everything with open eyes. It was real. Just give him time.”
You wiped your cheeks, breathing a little easier.
“And for the record?” she added, a glint of her usual fire returning. “Any man who gets misty over missing daily conversations with you? Damn. I didn't think that man existed. You better hold onto that.”
You laughed, just a little.
And for the first time since the plane touched down, the future didn’t feel like a threat. It was going to be so hard to wait, but now that Jillian made you think about it, maybe you should be excited about the future.
cw : gn!reader, smau, fluff, established relationship, silly and worried jim, reader is implied to be scared of spiders
notes : since I started liking jim's character I wanted to see a smau of him but since I couldn't find it anywhere, I made it! <3 be sure to tell if you like it so I can make more or improve something!
my friend convinced me to watch the office and i like it but specifically jim,,, so i come back to this account and im really wondering if i should write reader x jim <///3 love him sm
truthfully, you’d been messing with him all day. no, not out of cruelty or anything, you simply enjoyed watching him try not to react. you were bored. and when you’re bored, you get a little bold.
so yes, maybe you stretched a little too slow in your chair every time he looked over. maybe you kept catching his eye while licking sugar off your thumb from the donut you grabbed in the break room. maybe you purposely dropped your lipgloss under the conference table just to kneel down and grab his leg for support.
but now you were alone at your desk, absentmindedly tapping away at some emails and jim, usually so patient, so collected, was leaning down across your desk with one palm flat and that look in his eyes. the one that usually meant dwight fell through the thin ice and was about to get pranked. except this time he was looking at you.
“you done?” he asks, voice low, too casual. you blink slowly. “with what?” you ask. he licks his lips, “being a menace.” you snort. “what, just because i touched your leg earlier?”
he doesn’t smile. just eyes your mouth, then glances toward the cameras before stepping around the desk and grabbing your wrist. not hard, but just enough pressure.
“you wanted my attention, right?”
your throat goes dry.
“jim.”
“good,” he says, tugging you up out of your chair like it’s nothing. “come with me.”
“what? where?” he doesn’t answer, just guides you toward the back hallway that leads to the annex. the lights are dimmer back here, and no one’s really around except for creed, but he’s basically a ghost. the moment you pass the copy room, jim opens a side door and pushes you in gently, following close behind.
small office. lights off. empty. no cameras.
the second the door clicks shut, he turns to you, arms crossed.
“you’ve been deliberately trying to get under my skin all day.” his voice is steady and almost even amused, but serious enough that your heart kicks up a notch. “well maybe,” you admit, biting your lip. “i was bored.”
“and now?”
you shrug, but your eyes are on his, watching, waiting.
he steps closer, crowding your space, but his hands stay to himself, resting on his hips like he’s holding back. “now, i have to remind you why messing with me is a bad idea.”
you swallow hard, heat pooling low in your belly.
“you always win, jim.”
he smirks, that half-grin that’s all charm and patience.
“not always,” he mumbles before closing the gap between you, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers brushing your skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“cant just let you walk away without consequences, silly girl.” his voice drops an octave, calm and sure, like he’s making a promise.
and then his lips find yours, soft and deliberate, like he’s savoring this moment, making it last. your hands find his shirt, gripping them tight, and he doesn’t pull away. instead, he steps even closer, pressing you gently back against the wall.
“i’ve been nice all day,” he murmurs against your mouth, “but you? you’ve been asking for this.” his hand slips to your waist, fingers curling possessively as he deepens the kiss.
you’re dizzy with him. the way he’s so confident but never rushed, the way he knows exactly how to take control without ever overwhelming you. he didn’t ever need to try too hard, he was already exactly enough.
“promise you’re gonna be good after this?” he whispers, voice thick with something warm and teasing.
you nod, smiling. “yes.”
and he just smiles that lazy soft smile he saves for when he’s absolutely sure you’re his, and he’s yours.
he kisses you again, slower now, dragging it out like he's got nowhere else to be even though both of you definitely, technically, do. but the door's locked, the lights are off, and he’s pressed against you like you're his whole world.
his hands slip beneath the hem of your blouse with practiced ease, fingertips grazing your hips. he departs from your mouth to whisper, “quiet for me, yeah?”
you nod, dazed, and he wastes no time spinning you gently around, pressing your front to the cool surface of the desk. one hand finds your lower back, holding you steady, while the other undoes your button and slides your skirt down.
you bite your lip, eyes fluttering as his fingers trail back up your thighs, tugging your underwear aside. then, a pause. his hand lingers, fingers brushing through the slick warmth between your legs.
he hums, pleased. “so wet already,” he praises.
you jolt when one finger slides in gently. then another joins, stretching you just enough to make your thighs tremble. he works them in and out with purpose, thumb circling lightly over your clit, drawing quiet, involuntary gasps from your lips.
“good girl,” he breathes, low and sure. “just like that.”
it’s too much and not enough all at once, your hips instinctively pressing back into his hand.
but then he stops.
slowly, he draws his fingers out of you, and the loss makes you whimper. you feel exposed, aching. he leans down to kiss your shoulder once, warm and wet, and you feel him against you, not wasting time.
“still bored?” he teased, hot breath fanning your neck.
“shut up, jim,” you practically whine, breath shaky.
he lingers against your shoulder while his hands fumble at his belt. the sound of the buckle, the soft rustle of fabric, it all makes your pulse skip. he unbuttons his pants, pushing them just low enough to free himself, movements efficient but not rushed.
you glance over your shoulder, just in time to see him stroke himself once with your slick still on his hand, eyes fixated on you like he’s making sure this is real.
you feel him line up, thick and hard against you, and your body tenses in anticipation. his hands grip your hips firmly, securing both of you.
he pushes in with a slow, steady thrust that knocks the air out of you. your hands digging into the edge of the desk as he stills for just a moment, letting you feel all of him.
“fuck,” you whisper.
“you’re not so cocky now,” he murmurs, thrusting again, not rough, but purposeful, like he’s proving something.
it’s fast, can’t be anything but, with time ticking and tension still buzzing in your veins from hours of teasing. his hand finds your mouth as he speeds up, muffling the soft whimpers spilling out of you while his other grips your waist, anchoring you in place.
“you can be so good when you want to,” he says lowly, strained.
you moan into his palm, knees threatening to buckle as he hits that spot again and again. it’s overwhelming. the heat, the pressure, the way he’s losing control but won’t let go yet.
“jim—” you gasp, hands instantly grabbing around the desk.
“i’ve got you,” he mumbles into your skin.
your thoughts scatter, mind blurring at the edges. everything slips out of focus, except him. the soft creak of the desk. the rhythm. the quiet hum of an office pretending nothing’s happening behind this door.
warnings: mention of p in v, infidelity, and age gap of no more than 12 years.
You had begun a secret relationship with Jim, a guy who was a few years older than you but who definitely didn't look old at all, wow, it's as if his beauty remained. According to him, he was going to leave his wife and children for you, though you knew very well that he wouldn't... he already had his life so why leave it to be with you? At least both of you received something good that he lacked at home... sex.
You were lying on a bed in a hotel room that he paid for some hours, his hand caressing your bare chest on the white blanket while you smiled looking at him.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, his blue eyes wandering down your body and then back to your eyes.
"What is beautiful that you like about me?" you asked curiously while his eyes didn't leave you.
"Everything... your smile is perfect and your personality." He paused looking at you and added, "And those beautiful tits and the way you squeeze me like a vice too."
That made you laugh out loud, accompanied by him, who hugged you, pulling you towards him on the bed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Hey, im serious here." he insisted while laughing with you at his silly words.
"alright. Yeah, i believe you." You looked at him again, the laughter leaving your body a little to concentrate on him. He looked into your eyes with a smile and then asked you.
"what do you like about me, y/n?" He looked at you, his hand reaching under the blanket that covered you, his long hand covering one of your breasts, squeezing it gently and then playing with your nipple. You bit your lip looking at him and whispered.
"You are interesting, very intelligent and I hate that people don't see that in you." you whispered intently as his hand continued gropping your tit. "and that big co-" You were going to continue but he quickly took his hand out of the blanket to cover your mouth in a loud laugh.
"fuck— no, baby don't say that" he chuckled looking at your eyes
"Why? Does it make you hot?" You asked sensually while he didn't take his eyes off you.
"yeah, it does" He said playfully bringing his face closer to yours, placing a small kiss on the corner of your lips while his hand again slid down entering the blanket, and caressed your abdomen until reaching your thigh. Taking one thigh and pushing it up so that two of his fingers traced a line on your core making you let out a gasp.
"You were supposed to go pick up your kids from school" you whispered between kisses and then he told you.
"But I still have 10 minutes for you" he said, two of his fingers collecting the wetness that began to form in your pussy and slowly pushing a finger inside your entrance, making you moan and raise your hips a little, His finger began to push back and forth inside you, while his kisses consumed you. Your tongue entering his mouth between the kiss that slowly became full of desire. He took his lips away from yours to lower them to your neck, kissing desperately and creating hickeys while you began to breathe heavily, his thumb began to put pressure on your clit and move it in circles while his other finger continued pumping inside you.
But that didn't last long, as he pulled his finger out of you and quickly positioned himself on top of you, resting his forearms on your sides. pull the blanket off of you and bring a hand towards your naked form to begin to stroke himself a little and get completely hard, which so far hasn't been a problem. You gasped, your pussy beginning to drip with the need to have him in you, and as if he knew it his eyes bored into yours, admiring your red cheeks and lustful eyes.
"You have me... so damn hard" he whispered making you smile and adjust your legs to his sides.
"Then...get rid of the problem..." He licked his lips and quickly began to rub the tip of his cock that had precum on it up and down your pussy slit, making you even wetter if that was possible, He put in a little pressure and finally pushed himself inside you, slowly letting out a hiss and lowering his head to your neck. His body began to rock back and forth as your chest rose and fell with breathing. Your hands went to his back caressing and squeezing it as his thrusts began to increase in speed.
"God...you're so tight" he whispered as he grunted, his pelvis slamming against your pussy while his balls slapped against your ass creating a slapping noise. You opened your mouth starting to moan a little more, it felt so good to have him inside you and every time you and he did it it was like touching heaven.
But little time passes, as he thrusts harder into you and with the thought that he had to go pick up his two children from school in mind and the way you began to clench your legs holding back, he reaches his limit, cumming inside you and filling your womb.
He let out a loud husky moan and looked into your eyes. "Fuck, I love having you like this" he whispered as you tried to catch your breath. "I could fuck you over and over again and not feel guilty about it."
You smiled biting your lip, damn, he made you feel things you shouldn't because he was married and you hated yourself for it.
Synopsis - a new woman has opened a psychic shop in the building, and Michael is determined to have her come into the office to showcase her talents. however, when jim mentions her looks, a twinge of jealousy starts to stir in Y/N. now, with the new woman in the picture, Y/N can't help but worry that jim might fall for her.
"Good morning, loyal citizens of Dundermill!" Michael cheered out, loudly entering the office with a slam of the front door and displaying himself right by Pam's desk. His hands were extended outwards to showcase his image, dressed in a tighter-fitting blue suit (maybe a woman's once again) adorned by his classic hair do of it slicked back but one side heavier than the other. He awaited in silence as you and your fellow coworkers were still getting comfortable in their respected areas.
Dwight popped dutifully out of the backroom, a hot cup of coffee in hand that slightly spilled onto the skin of his hand, resulting in a quick curse. Nonetheless, he still rushed towards Michael.
"Good morning, Michael!" He responded, giving him a large grin while trying to avoid the slight spill trail following him to the boss.
"Yes, hello, Dwight," He quietly regarded the man, his cheery demeanor dissipating in the slightest before he addressed the room once again. "Anyone notice anything new?"
"You got new insoles for your shoes so that you'd be taller?" Phyllis looked over at him, swiveling in her chair while squinting her eyes at the black pair.
"What? No!" Michael shook his head quickly, rolling his eyes slightly. "Look again; it might be tinner than you are expecting."
"Oo!" Kelly jumped from behind Stanley, raising her hand high up in the air.
"Ah yes, Kelly! The fashionista yourself would notice," He winked over at her while putting a little spin on his voice with the word 'fashionista'.
"You finally popped that large zit on your left cheek," she nodded with determination as whispers seemed to erupt around the office at that notice.
"What? You guys are so bad at this! And my zit is not big, not like the one on your nose" He laughed, looking around the room for acknowledgement of his words. "Roasted!"
"Oh Michael," Pam groaned from beside him, shaking her head in embarrassment.
"What? It was funny, she said-"
"Not cool," Oscar piped up, a look of disappointment on his features.
"Whatever," Michael lightly stomped, pinning the attention back onto him. "Okay, last hint, it's lower."
"Michael?" You spoke up, sitting at your desk with your steaming cup of coffee and loading the computer screen across from you.
"Ah yes, y/n! You got it; go ahead."
"Don't tell me you're referring to," your eyes widen, trying to show an indication to a lower area past his waistline far from being appropriate.
"I don't think you should be talking about enlargement medication in the workplace," Jim was quick to chip in, not before sending you a little glare and then delivering the sentence with complete seriousness and tone that seemed to represent concern.
Groans erupted around the room of disgust, shaking their heads or covering their eyes, besides an overly curious Meredith, who took a few steps forward.
"Michael, that is beyond being appropriate for work and truly very sinful." Angela emphasized.
"You all ruined this completely appropriate work guessing game! Now I'll just have to tell you which ruins all the fun." He grumbled, reaching up to hold out a small pin on his shirt. "I got a new pin to support the new business in the building. It's of the sign Aries because that is what I am!"
"That's great, Michael." You put up a fake, small smile, nodding to the man before spinning back to start typing at your screen.
"See! Thank you for someone understanding the excitement. Alright, now all back to work, except I will need to see my best man in my office." Michael shot finger guns in front of him, landing between the two men.
"Coming!" Dwight voiced, rushing to stand closer to Michael's new position near his office door.
"I was referring to Jim," his voice trailed off. "But you can come too."
"Would you want me to come too, Michael?" Kevin questioned, standing tall at his desk.
"Oh no, no, we are good," He waved his hands back and forth in means of denial.
"If I'm not out in five, I'll need backup," Jim muttered to you, a small giggle leaving at his comment. "I'm serious, L/N."
"No, of course, of course, I'll be there!" You jokingly saluted him.
"You're one of the good ones, he sent one of his classic looks to the cameras, moving to walk into Michael's office.
"What did I mean by that?" Jim sits in the uncomfortable chair, opened blinds behind him as he speaks to the camera for the confessional. "Well, it's just a joke, a saying."
There are mumbles that errupt behind the camera and a slight zoom in to where you are seated at your desk, working diligently, hair falling a bit messily around your face.
"Y/n is just different from everyone else. I mean, that is pretty obvious; you guys have even seen these guys," He let out a small chuckle, scratching at the back of his neck. "She's kinder but not so kind that she can't make a quick quip back when needed. I mean, she's super dedicated and looks cute even—that doesn't matter. She's just different."
"So, I've gathered you both here today to discuss a very serious matter." Michael sat at his desk, hands clasped together, as he stared down at the two men in front of him. "The economy is turning into all these big companies, and it's not okay! We need to help the small business; it is our duty as a company for the people!"
"You do realize we are now a fairly large company ourselves?" Jim reminded his boss.
"See, that proves why we have to help the little man out. Lucille, the wonderful woman who created this specialty pin just for me -"
"It looks like a generic zodiac sign pin." Dwight put his hands on the desk, pushing his chest forward so that his face could get a more upclose look at the pin on Michael's suit.
"No, Dwight, it's a specialty. Men, Lucille needs our help, and luckily enough, for us, she can help us too. It's too tense in this office with all the ups and downs the bigwigs are putting us through. We need a little fun. She does special fortune-telling sessions and I think we bring her in."
"Michael, if I may?" Dwight raised his hand.
"Yes?"
"If this is done on company time, it is vastly irresponsible and also fortune tellers are fake."
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Jim asked, highly interested in the conversation now.
"Obviously, my Aunt Sherlie's basement was haunted with her Uncle Lenord, my great uncle. He was a dangerous man so sparks always flew from the wiring down there."
"No more aunts and uncles," Michael waved his hand, snapping Dwight out of his thoughts before he kept rambling on. "Jim, what do you think?"
"I don't think it's great."
"Don't you want to know about your future? Who will you soon date? Who you'll be getting it on with?"
A knock at his door stopped the sounds of distaste leaving from those across from him. Michael got up and opened the door to where you stood with a kind smile, quickly eyeing Jim before looking back at your boss.
"There seems to be someone needing to speak to you at the front door of the building. He called on the phone and I answered it since Pam is in the bathroom."
"Oh, okay," Michael turned back to the men. "Alright, think long and hard!" He moved out of his office to go and find the mystery caller.
"Did they say a name? It could be dangerous if not," Dwight commented, concern etched on his features.
"Maybe you should go with him for protection," you innocently replied, moving over to take the seat Dwight once occupied with his frame rushing after Michael. "So, loyal soldier here to save."
"Quick on your feet, L/N, impressive," Jim complimented. "Things are getting dangerous. Michael wants to invite the new lady with the fortune business to do a fortune telling for the whole office."
"The one he got the pin from?"
"Exactly."
"That could be interesting; do you believe in that stuff Halpert?"
"Oh, I read my daily horoscope always in the papers." You both laughed at his sarcasm. "No, he just wants her because she's hot."
"Oh?" You questioned, your voice faltering in the slightest, which caused you to try and cough it off. "She's hot?"
"Well, you know?"
"What?"
"Micheal thinks everyone but Meredith and Phyliss are hot. Anyone under thirty-five."
"Do you?"
"Do I what?" It felt to Jim as if he were sweating at this moment, hands being wiped repeatedly against his pants leg as he prayed to get out of this sinking hole.
"Find her hot?" You leaned in very close to his figure, your face much closer to his and there was a slight expansion of the top part of your shirt, allowing more skin of the upper area to be exposed. Though you or him didn't say anything more as the door was swung back open and you quickly sat back with a fired-up Michael and Dwight rolling in.
"There was no one there!" Dwight was quick to tell you.
"That's so weird!" You stood up, walking over to the front door. "I swear there was this really convincing voice over the phone," you trailed off, pretending to be lost in thought. "Wait, you don't think...?"
"Think what?" Michael wondered in response.
"Well, that new girl has her business now; what if the spirits followed her and it was a ghost?"
"That seems highly plausible," Dwight nodded at your assumption. "They are known to follow those that associate with them. Michael, it could be dangerous messing with her."
It felt as though there was an awkward air between you and Jim the rest of the day. He would try to make little jokes but they just weren't landing the right way or had the same amount of comedic timing as all of his other pieces. It was so oblviant that even Pam had caught on to the off nature that Jim was exuding. Luckily for Pam, she could read her best friend like a book, cutting it up to an awkward interaction that he must've had with you.
"It isn't that bad," she shrugged, collecting a few leaves of the lettuce in her bowl and catching some extra dressing and tomato onto her fork.
"Really?" Jim looked at her as if she were lying, chomping on his tuna salad sandwich after. "She was not herself and I felt..."
"You felt what?"
"Weird."
"Would you feel weird if it was, let's say, Angela? Like if she seemed out of character?" Pam pointed her fork at him, now filled with a new bite of salad.
"Well, no, not really. What are you trying to say?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Pam laughed at the camera, sending it an incredulous look. "Obviously, I'm trying to get Jim to recognize his agonizing crush on the girl. I'm his best friend; of course it's plain in sight for me."
"Well, Pam," the camera panned over to where Andy sat, one eyebrow raised, and his legs crossed. "Tuna and I go way back. We are practically brothers in a way. So, I, of course, as his brother from another mother, can tell he digs her. One time Angela made a comment about her outfit and Jim was like some scary monster!"
"It wasn't that bad." Pam looked at Andy, shaking her head with a weirded-out expression. She then angled over back to the camera, "He was pretty angry though; put her on the spot real quickly!"
"I am thrilled you all could make it today!" Michael cheered, standing in front of the conference room with his hand wide and the classic white board written on with 'Let's go psycho for the psychic!"
"You said this was mandatory," Stanley commented, flipping to another page of his crossword.
"Well, you still could have decided not to come," Michael tried to explain.
"You said you wouldn't pay us if we didn't," Ryan reminded him.
"Actually, due to the business policies, Michael isn't allowed to withhold pay for those not attending this," Toby quickly explained to the group.
"If I could withhold pay, yours would be first," Michael grumbled, shaking his head before putting back on his cheery expression. "Okay, fine, if you don't want to be here, then leave." He sighed.
Immediately at his words, Stanley, Creed, Meredith, Ryan, Kevin, Oscar, and Angela left the room. Kevin was visibly disapointed in the lack of refreshments for the occasion, Angela with the unholyness of such an event, and the others all their own reasoning. You stood up to exit, but the man besides you—Jim—reached up to hold you by the wrist, sending a pleading glare to stay. Which you answered by taking back your seat.
"Well, fine, we don't need those haters!" Michael yelled the last word louder, hoping those outside of the conference room would hear. "Now, who came up with this?" He pointed to the whiteboard.
"I did," Phyllis shyly raised her hand, a small smile on her lips. "I was talking about it with Bob, my husband, and he thought it was pretty creative."
"Well, that doesn't mean anything," Michael rolled his eyes, crossing out the 'psycho' and rewriting on top of it 'happy'.
"Let's go happy for psychics?" Pam read the board.
"We want Lucille to know we are happy, not insult her." Michael explained, smiling proudly at his work.
"Isn't it true that all psychics are psycho?" Dwight had spoken up, though unfortunately his words were poorly timed, as at the same moment the woman in question opened the door into the conference room carrying a filled purple sack.
"Oh, really now?" she questioned, heaving over while trying to lift the gigantic bag, basically dragging it now into the room. Michael quickly stepped over, trying to take the bag from her and sling it over his own shoulder but instead was not met with such luck, leaving him to have to drag it as well.
"I have spoken to fellow friends apart from my laser tag group; they have been in a few runs with witches like you."
"Well, I do not classify myself as a witch."
"Yeah, she looks nothing like one! She's really hot," Andy mentioned from the row behind you. The girl in question brushed some hair away, smiling graciously at his comment.
"Thank you," she accepted the compliment and began to pull out different materials onto the table, a crystal ball, a deck of cards, and multitudes of other random items.
"Do we really know how credible she is?" You leaned over, cupping your hand to whisper in Jim's ear. "Why is there a random shoelace?"
Your breath felt hot on his skin, sending shivers up his spine along with a rising pink that brushed over his cheeks. He tried to cover up his subtle laugh, earning a rude stare from the bossman himself.
"Let's get started," she cheered, Michael jumping up to be the first person to get his fortune read and engage in all the different activities that she was offering.
"So? Is she the hot girl you were wanting?" You let one hand rest on the armbench of the chair, placing your other arm on top and leaning over to give him a little stare, narrowing in on his expression as if you could decipher if he sees such attractiveness in the blonde in front.
"Woah, I never said I was wanting one," he quickly declined, waving his hands all around in order to express his deep feelings about not wanting the connection to this being his goal. "This was all Michael, all him wanting a hot girl."
"Wouldn't you want one?"
"Maybe," he shrugged, trying to catch the slight twinkle in your eye—the way you stared so deeply and paid close attention to his words. Soon enough, the both of you were shushed, as apparently Michael 'was getting deeply distracted' enough, 'deeply affecting Lucille's concentration'.
His session definitely played out the longest, continually picking out different things or questioning a simple sentence she said just to keep her attention on him for as long as available. Though her gaze kept slipping through to where you and Jim tried to keep your giggles on the down low. You both wrote on spare pieces of paper from your notebook, playing tik-tak-toe, scheming different pranks to pull on Dwight, and commenting on Dwights incessant comments about the legitimacy of her practices, and noticing Phyllis's large interest and passion to get more involved. You and the man were always able to find little ways to connect in those boring, unkown moments that working at such a paper mill brought along.
"I would say I'm sensing some spiritual pull between Jim and Y/n over here," Pam finally spoke aloud, her expression filled with deep boredom as she tried to write down all that Lucille was saying to Michael due to his orders. "What would you say, Miss Lucille?"
"You know," the girl turned to watch once more as the two of you bonded, soon enough looking back at Michael, who was still wanting more. "Hon, there are more people wanting to go," she patted the top of Michael's hand. "We should let them enjoy; I will have to go soon too."
"Well, okay, but if we have extra time we can loop back to me," Michael nodded, staring down at where her hand once touched his own.
"Alright, time to switch!" She announced with much excitement, eyes scanning the crowd as if to choose.
"I would love to go." Phyllis raised her hand, setting down the knitting gear that once preoccupied her time to the empty chair beside her.
"No, not you," Lucille dragged her hand across the multiple empty chairs as if she were looking back, deciding on who in the crowd to choose. "You," she pointed at Jim, who was pointing at something on the paper. He looked up to Lucille in utter shock, which furthered even more as she got up from her own place to pull him from the chair and into the one by her own.
"Oh, I am okay," he shook his head, reluctantly following her to the chair, giving a couple look backs at where you sat with a concerned expression. "I know Dwight, this guy over here," he pointed over to where the man sat with a scowl. "He would love to get some information on your business."
"No, I want you. I am sensing a multitude of energy from you—very hot, red energy," she dragged on, taking a look at him by dragging her eyes up and down his body. "The spirits are calling to me."
"Well, that is a little frightening," he uncomfortably laughed. She took his hands in hers, taking them and then soon comparing her size of hand to his.
"Wow, such strong, big hands. Clearly you are one destined for greatness."
"Uh," it was clear to almost anyone—except the psychic trying her very hardest to flirt and Michael, who was widely jealous—that Jim was not in the best place and very much searching for an avenue to get away.
"Oh Jim, we have to go make that call to the sales rep of Rocky's reps, that fitness center." You stood up, walking over to try and offer an opportunity so he could have an out.
"Just take it yourself," Lucille was quick to speak up, now looking you over. "Do your job?" she turned to Michael, putting on her best pouty face. "Michael, right?" The man in question nodded with much enthusiasm and pride. "It is important that I do Jim," she turned back to the man in question, "Is it?" to which he just stared at her as she switched back to Michael, "So then I can do you," she said flirtaously.
"Y/n, go take the call," Michael demanded, shooing you away, leaving Lucille with a victorious smile. You followed your boss's commands, leaving the conference room to see the rest of the office empty, and went to begin packing your things for the weekend to come.
"I should really be on thi-" Jim had tried to speak before Lucille pulled his hands to now touch the crystal ball, her hands encasing his on the cheap plastic.
"I am sensing something about your romantic life."
"Alright, tuna," Andy cheered.
"It seems that today you will be offered to make a move on one special beauty. The confidence will overtake you once you touch hands with the one who you are to be more with," her eyes winked over at him, rubbing his skin. "You are a lucky man."
"Well, that is enough." He pulled his hands away from the woman, stuffing them into his pockets as he got out of the chair. "I do not want to take away all the time because Michael hasn't even gotten to see your trick with that.." he leaned over to look at the assortment of odd products on the table. "Bean can?"
"Yes! You are right, Jimbo." Michael stood up quickly, taking Jim's seat and giving her the tuna can. "Now this looks fancy."
With this opportunity, Jim made a quick exit, heading to the office in hopes of finding you sitting. Unfortunately, you were gone from the area, so in response, he speedily packed up his things and rushed to make it to the front of the building. Once making it out to the cold, he noticed you standing by the door, one earbud in, arms wrapped around your body as you tried to keep as much heat in as possible.
"She definitely is not a real psychic," Jim laughed, coming up besides you as he still tried to button up the remaining buttons of his jacket. "I mean, there was a bean can." He waited for your response—a little laugh or quick quip back—but instead he was met with silence. "What's going on?" He put his hand on your shoulder to where you finally turned around to face him, little tears falling down your cheeks. "Y/n!"
"I am fine," you shook your head, trying to wipe the tears away with your mittens. "I am sorry for being odd lately."
"What is going on?"
"I do not know how to explain without making it weird," you fidgitied with your mittens, trying to pull it on and off until you slipped your grip and the acessory hit the ground. Both you and Jim bent over to grab it, hands touching one another before he grabbed it for you.
"Let me help," he said, taking your hand in his cold one, opening up the mitten so that you could push your fingers in. "You always have such trouble once you have the other one on," he lightly chuckled, one you now returned.
"Thanks," was all you replied with, looking down at the ground that began to pile up with snow. "You can go ahead; I am just waiting for a cab."
"I did not think she was hot," Jim admitted, now catching your attention so that you noticed his concerned look resonating on you. "She is not my type. To be honest, I like someone who is funny, where we share a connection and jokes."
"Oh."
"Someone I work with, desk right next to me. Someone who is widely specific in the routine for how she dresses for the outdoors, who is meticulous about her sandwhich choices, has a waterbottle filled with random stickers, and actually listens to Phyllis drain on and on about her relationship with Bob. Somehow."
"It is not easy," you grinned.
"I like you, L/N. Not Lucille, the fake psychic, or a random bartender at Poor Richards. I don't want them; I want you."
And to his confession, you were quick to place your covered hands on both of his cheeks, leaning his face down in order to place your lips upon his, a small snowflake methodically landing upon both of your noses at the special moment. It was nothing long, but definitely said all that there needed to be, and with that, you two separated, cheesy grins taking over.
"I will admit, she is fake but she did say I would touch hands with someone beautiful and gain courage to express attraction. Maybe she knows what she is saying."
