Work Text:
If there was one thing you thoroughly enjoyed about the clock hitting 5pm, it was definitely the fact that you could finally leave the workplace that had been spawned from hell itself.
Today, your workplace and fellow employees had decided to be Thanos-sized pains in the ass and graciously blame every single problem in existence on you, and you only.
When the coffee machine decided to short-circuit all the electrical appliances in the kitchen because Lauren had somehow managed to spill water all over the electrical sockets: "Y/n! That's coming out of your paycheck!"
When David from Marketing didn't get his figures in on time because he would rather ogle Maxine's breasts than get this month's profit and loss statement done: "Y/n! Get your act together and get me those figures, NOW! I expected better from you."
And then there was the one thing that truly iced the cake. For a couple months now, Abigail (the bane of your existence) had been pushing the majority of her workload onto you, while she just sat at her desk and tried to look sexy for your boss Nolan.
Normally, it irritated you but you put up with it. You just wanted to get out by 5 without any fuss. But today, you had had enough. She had piled on four different accounts that all had five sub-accounts each. You could not get any of that done by 5.
So, you did what any over-worked and super-stressed out employee would you. You went to your boss.
"Nolan, there's an issue I need to address with you."
"What is it, Y/n? I'm incredibly busy." You internally rolled your eyes; yeah, 'busy' sitting here and betting on the next horse race probably.
You explained the situation with Abigail and her workload and eventually made it to today's problem. "They all need to be finalised by 5 and I cannot get that done on-time on my own, on top of all of the work I already have. Could you ask her to do her work for once?"
He shifted his head and stared at you with a look that screamed irritation on his face.
"Are you really that useless that you can't get four simple accounts in order? In the next four hours nonetheless? God, you're pathetic. Get those four accounts done by 3 or you're fired."
You stared at him, jaw agape and eyes wide open.
"W-what? Nolan? That isn't possible. Each of those has five sub-accounts eac-"
"I don't care. Get it done and get out!"
You quickly slipped out the door and got to work, ensuring that you glared at Abigail the entire trip back to your desk.
~~~
That was how you ended up seated in front of the Rotunda of Gateways, staring into the abyss with a glass of Prosecco in your hand; over-analysing every single mistake you had made in those accounts in the rush to get them done.
Bringing the glass to your lips, you took another gulp of the sweet liquid and internally screamed. Why did your workplace have to be so toxic? Why couldn't you work at some little business what was run by a sweet old woman who didn't take advantage of you?
You were so caught up in your internal warfare that you didn't hear Stephen come into the room. So when you felt his hands on your shoulder, you jumped and spilled wine all over your blouse.
"Darling, I didn't mean to scare you."
You took a deep breath, "It's fine, Stephen. Don't worry about it."
He made his way around you, crouched down and began to rub your upper arms.
"Are you alright, Sweetheart? You don't seem like yourself."
"I'm fine."
You attempted to smile, but of course, Stephen saw right through it. Standing up, he grabbed your hand and began walking towards your bedroom.
"Stephen, what are you-"
"Be quiet, Love. Just go along with it."
With a flick of his fingers, water began streaming out of the tap into the bathtub; the water being the perfect temperature for the both of you to get in. Settled against Stephen's chest, you slowly felt the stress begin to ebb away as you took in his heavenly scent.
His hands made their way to your shoulders and began kneading your tense muscles. He continued his ministrations, every so often bringing his lips to your shoulder or cheek; reaffirming his love for you with every lowly whispering of how much he adored you. Slowly, your eyes began to close, fully immersing yourself in the pampering that your husband was subjecting you to.
When the water turned cold and your fingers began to prune, Stephen helped you out of the bath, dried you off with a little bit of magic, and helped you into your red silk pyjamas. Scooping you up in his arms, he carried you to the bed and continued reassuring you of how wonderful you were, and how you were the epitome of perfection in his eyes.
Laying you down on the mattress, you covered you with the blanket and tucked you in; giving you a lingering kiss to your temple. After cleaning up the bathroom, he made his way to the bed and laid himself next to you on the bed, draped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer.
"I know that something has happened, and I know that your default move is to try and cope with it on your own. But I need you to know that it's okay to rant about your problems to me. I'm your husband, it's pretty much in my job description."
You slightly chucked but shook your head. You were nowhere near ready to tell him about or relive anything related to work day today. A stray tear slipped down your cheek at that thought.
Pulling back slowly, he raised his hand and began to wipe your tears away, "But I also know how hard it is for you--as someone who bottles up all their emotions--to speak out about them."
He paused and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before continuing.
"But I just want you to know, that whenever you're ready to talk about it, I'm here, and I'll always be ready to be there for you."
More tears slid down your cheeks as you snuggled back into his warm embrace. You knew that whenever you were ready, he would be there; and that made everything that little bit better.