Hey Emma. I'm been really down lately and I decided some good ol fan fiction is in order. I was wondering if you could do a Anti x Reader where Anti is comforting the reader after she got done stressing and crying about work. Sorry if this is bad. Lots of Love~
// sorry this took so incredibly long!! I know i messaged you about being on vacation, but this took longer than expected and i so dearly apologize!!
Also, im so sorry you’ve been feeling down lately. Hopefully you feel a bit more like your (as it seems to me) upbeat and excitable self. I hope this lil piece of crappy fanfiction helps!! Remember that my messages/ask box/everything is always open and i’m always here to talk if you need it!!//
Warnings: Fist banging, a mean boss, stress, anxiety, crying, high tension, overworking, use of the word ‘douchewad,’ very mild cursing, light injury mention
(also, please note that this is based off how i react during a stressful time, and may not be accurate to your own feelings!!! im sorry, lovely!!!)
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You banged your fist angrily of the hard wood of the desk for sixth time in the last hour you’ve been here, at your office job, working overtime.
It all stems from the fact that your boss is, in both your and Anti’s personal opinions, the biggest douchewad to have existed in the past millennium. When you missed three days due to dealing with personal mental problems and lack of will to even get out of bed, he denied you an extension for a project due tomorrow. This resulted in the days worth of work piling up, and you knew that completing all of it by tomorrow would be utter hell.
You had started a bit of your project before you hit your slump and took your leave, but not nearly enough to be able to finish it by the beginning of tomorrow. That is, unless you stayed overtime, and even then, you had to hurriedly fill out papers and type with shaking hands in order to finish your work, pulling at your own hair in frustration. So, feeling as if you had no choice but to spend tonight in the dark, empty space of the office, you stayed.
Technically, you were supposed to get off work at 5 o’clock, yet it was approaching 10 o’clock by the time Anti, your blessed saving grace, finally arrived. He showed up because you hadn’t come home that night, and stopped answering your texts and calls, due to you putting your phone on the opposite side of the room in hopes of getting yourself more “in the zone” and trying to finish your work as quickly as possible.
You were slumped over your computer, knuckles lightly bruised from your desk-banging, and eyes red and swollen from crying when Anti walked in to your office. He stood leaned against the doorway for several moments in silence, waiting for you to look up at him. When you did, he sighed at the sight of your reddened eyes.
“Grab your things,” He said as soon as he noticed your exhausted muscles causing your hand to only sluggish flutter over your keyboard as opposed to actual typing, “We’re leaving.”
Immediately, you straightened up, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at the piles of work you still had left to complete. You rubbed at your knuckles, tears slipping out of your eyes as every horrible thing came crashing down at once.
You were still in your slump, you knew, but couldn’t afford to acknowledge it and take any more days off work. The piles of unfinished work were just snowballing and it was suffocating you, pushing you under the surface of sanity. Your mind was shot, as was your body, and you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a sob.
“Y/N,” Anti said gently, walking forward, taking your cold, trembling hands in his warm ones, “Let’s go.”
“I can’t,” You protested weakly, attempting to push down the exhausted emotions threatening to overwhelm you, “I still have so much left.”
Anti sighed, pulling you in for a tight hug, letting you sob into his shoulder, tearings falling onto his shirt. He rubbed your back gently, swaying you both slightly as he comforted you.
“There’s still tomorrow, Y/N. You can get it done tomorrow, it’s okay,” Anti said, voice soft and reassuring. The negativity in your mind didn’t allow for his comfort, and you pushed it him away slightly.
“N-no, it’s due tomorrow, Anti,” You said shakily, sitting back down in your office chair, “I won’t have time to do it before I turn it in.” You rubbed your hands over your face, trying to clean yourself up a bit before you settled back in for many more hours of work.
“I can talk to your boss, he’ll listen to me,” Anti said assuredly, before his eyes took on a subtle malicious glint, a small, wicked grin growing on his face, “He’ll have to.”
You chuckled slightly at Anti’s willingness to protect you, before you turned back to gaze at your paperwork. Thinking logically, if Anti could convince your boss to let you have just one more day, you could complete the project by the end of tomorrow’s work day, and turn it in the day after. Granted, the rushed nature of it probably would get you called into his office for a rant on the “lack of quality,” but at least it would be done.
You mulled it over in your head, looking between the papers sprawled out in front of you, and the soft, pleading expression on Anti’s face. Sighing, you gave in, gathering your papers and sliding your laptop into it’s case, before standing again, and walking towards Anti.
He pulled you in for another hug, holding you to him tightly. His heart was slow and steady, and it calmed your own racing one, allowing your exhaustion to finally kick in. You limply put your forehead on his shoulder, leaning on him.
“Just relax, Y/N,” He began, voice smooth and slow, as it he were speaking through a jar of honey, “Everything will be okay. You’ll get out of this slump, you’re complete your work, and you’ll do a great job at all of it,” He said this confidently, and you smiled softly, “I’m so proud of you.” He stroked your back again, and you soaked it in, letting the warmth of his hands warm your cold body, frozen from many dark, cold hours in the office.
He pulled away slightly keeping you an arm’s length away, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. He looked you directly in your eyes, and you could see the genuinity shining behind his own.
“Everything will work out. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
