I have had this stuck in my head ever since you sent it, Anonym. Honestly I think Osomatsu might be perfect for this, so I hope you’re okay with me using him for this scenario. Osomatsu x A VERY stressed out GN!Reader, under the cut!
To say you felt like you were on top of the world was an understatement. Sitting in your new position as Director of Digital Marketing for the Akatsuka PR firm, you would never worry about your finances again. Your agency handled names as big as Shoei and even Nyaa Hashimoto, amongst countless other idols, influencers, and musical groups. Everything was seamless - with the new job came a new house, a new car, everything new and expensive with you ever having to worry about the price tag. Your fiancé of several years, Osomatsu, constantly exclaimed how proud he was - thought you laughed at how he too was enjoying the many perks that came with your extraordinary jump in wealth. There were parties thrown in your honor; innumerable gifts given to in celebration of your status, you honestly don’t think you’d partied the way you had that week than you ever have in your life. Unfortunately for you, that was just the thing. The business that you had worked your way up in over the years became exactly that when you were at the top - constant partying. The dinners, the late night receptions that would turn into 8 am meetings, the ridiculous amount of PR cleanups that you oversaw caused by the newer, younger generation of talent. It was a continuous effort that gave you no peace. There was no off switch for you, as you were in a ceaseless loop of making sure every line was correctly in its places, and then being dressed up and schmoozing amongst the other high-on-the-totem-pole staff when things were correct. Osomatsu was by your side through all of it, but he sensed something was wrong. He confirmed it when he had gone to the bar inside the CEO’s yacht to grab you both glasses of wine, only to come back and watch you looking over the edge of the deck, your expression reading utter exhaustion. This week in particular had been hell. The news had leaked of Nyaa Hashimoto’s retirement and a surprise pregnancy - none of which you had been informed of until after the alarmed phone calls started coming in. It took a personal call from you to clear the air with her and find out what the truth was. While you understood her plight, and obliged with her wishes to retire and lead her life as a normal woman, you knew the CEO would be furious. Nyaa Hashimoto was one of your biggest clients; the responsibility of handling the press, picking up the pieces of her fanbase that the leaked information had caused, and dealing with sponsor backlash all fell on you and your team. After your final call for the day had been made, you slammed the phone down and put your head in your hands. “I’m home!” called Osomatsu from the front door. He set down the keys to the Huracán, kicking his shoes off in the process, “The guys wanted me to meet them at the race track, hope it was okay that I put us in the skybox”. He grinned at that, knowing you wouldn’t really care, but it tickled him to know that such a luxury was within his reach these days. When you didn’t answer him, his fingers curled into a fist. Something was definitely wrong. Without hesitance, he ran to your office. The door swung open, flittering a few loose pieces of paper forward. The eldest brother took in the scene of your office with horror: awards shattered to the ground, old photos torn to shreds, there were shards of glass and metals sprinkled throughout the entirety of the room. At the center of it all was you, your head in your arms, sobbing silently to yourself. In careful steps, Osomatsu approached you, “Babe…are…are you okay? Baby, what happened?” At the sound of his voice, your tear stained face lifted. Bloodshot eyes with your hair strewn about as if you had laid that way for hours was what met his eyes. Immediately you fell into the arms of your fiancé, wailing about how this had simply become too much - because it had. You poured from an incessantly empty cup, never feeling truly fulfilled with any of the work you were doing because it did not serve you. The monetary gain was fleeting - you had everything you could want or need except the thing you required most: peace. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Oso,” your choked, teary voice sounded against his chest, “I want to go back to everything being simple…I want to live in a one story house and have neighbors who have like three dogs and I want to have a backyard with a tree where I can raise beeeeeeees” and you began another round of sobbing once more. You heard Osomatsu sigh. It made you cry harder initially because you knew that leaving this lap of luxury meant taking away all of his fun. He’d supported you when you were nobody in the company, it felt so wrong to strip him of the things you both never had for your selfish reasons. To your surprise however, he would pull from you gently, raising your chin up to look at him. His thumbs brushed underneath your eyes, swiping away the fresh tears there. “I dunno anything about bees…but if that’s what you wanna do, then let’s do it.” he said, a sympathetic smile at the forefront. Your trembling hand laid on top of his own, “But..b-but what about all of this? This is everything you’ve ever wanted in life, Osomatsu…” He leaned forward, his lips pressing ever so gently to your own. Time stood still in that moment, and your tears would start to shift in their meaning from here, “This life means nothing to me if you’re not happy. I love money, don’t get me wrong,” you didn’t miss the teasing lilt in his tone, but it quickly faded, “But I don’t think I have to tell you that I love you more than that, do I?” He took the next round of bawling as a sign that you completely understood. The next few weeks he would spend with you planning your leaving the company, choosing instead to take on a role as a consultant for lower-end talent managers, a job that allowed you your freedom at home since the time was made for you and not the other way around. Your penthouse was packed up, swapped out for a one-level home with a sizable backyard and a few friendly neighbors next door. When you finally finished sliding in the last panel, you wiped your forehead. Just behind you came the sound of feet crunching on grass. “How does it look?” your fiancé asked. You turned to see Osomatsu donning a full bee suit, beaming from beneath the veil. It brought the same smile to your own face, “Now we match!”