#Sorry the first two are like sosososo late I just like… forgot to make them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satoruvt · 4 years

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the color of you - gray (1)

HI IT TOOK ME 3 HOURS TO WRITE THIS AND I KNOW THATS LONG BUT I’M SOSOSOSO PROUD OF THIS AND THE ENTIRE SERIES SO PLEASE LIKE IT!!!!

pairing → hawks (keigo takami) x bakery owner!reader

word count → 1608

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → poser by grace vanderwaal and the lights cover of hold on we’re going home by drake!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

It’s been a rough day already.

You’re late, your pants are still damp even after throwing them in the dryer twice, and there wasn’t even enough cereal for you to have a decent breakfast. The sky is clouded over in gray and normally you like the rain but given that you have to walk to work and because you’re late and your pants are damp and you’re hungry you didn’t even think about getting an umbrella and it’s too late now to go back. Your pace is fast, but you’re not sure you can outrun the darkening clouds.

You reach into your pocket in hopes to at least pass the commute with some music, but all you find is your phone. You remember picking them up as you walked out the door, where the hell are they? You run a hand over both of your back pockets to feel for wires but there’s nothing - could they be in your jacket pocket? They’ve gotta be -

Your train of thought is interrupted when you collide with something head-on.

Dull pain blooms in your nose as it squishes against something - warm, you note - and you feel your body start to lose balance, but a pair of hands steadies you. The realization that you ran into another person hits you and you back up, putting as much distance between you and the person as you can.

“God, wow, I’m so sorry,” you start, but the gloves look familiar. You look up at the person and blink once, twice. “Oh. You’re Hawks.”

You’re fucking mortified.

Hawks offers you an amused smile, taking his hands away from you. “Yeah,” is all he says, and your brain will not shut up, because of course you had to literally run into the Number Two hero on a day that’s already heading downhill. It doesn’t help that you consider yourself a fan, either - nervousness pits in your stomach at the fact.

“Hey, you okay?” Hawks asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. You snap back into reality and nod, vigorous.

“Yeah, um -” oh, you sound stupid, “sorry. You’ve got enough on your plate as a hero, I bet you don’t need random people bumping into you everywhere.”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Worse has happened.”

“Yeah?”

You’re expecting some villain horror-story, since you’re sure he has plenty of those. “Yeah. You know how many times KFC’s gotten my order wrong?”

You laugh and it’s genuine, not the unfortunate-small-talk laugh. “Sounds a bit like cannibalism,” you tease, motioning to his wings, and Hawks scoffs playfully.

“You seemed rushed earlier, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

His tone is sarcastic, lighthearted, but he’s right. You nod once, walking past him in a few steps. You turn around, facing him again as you walk backwards.

“See you on TV, hero!”

He turns to wave back at you, smirk on his lips. By the time you get to your bakery you’re twenty minutes late, but you figure you don’t really mind since your mood is better than before. When the rain falls, well after you’ve gotten to work, the sounds of it pattering against the concrete help you dream in monochrome between batches of cookies and cakes.

You sigh when you close the door to your apartment, letting all of your things drop to the floor. You don’t bother to pick them up - minus your phone - as you trudge to your room. Low daylight seeps in through the window, coating your room in pale light.

It doesn’t take long for you to change out of your outfit and into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie, and after you do you flop onto your bed with a gentle thump. You turn on your phone, scrolling through social media, letting yourself enjoy a relaxing comedown from a busy day.

You show up on your own timeline on Twitter, and it first you brush it off as something you posted, but then you realize that you definitely didn’t take those pictures.

It’s you, this morning, standing outside with Hawks. The pictures look like they’re taken from across the street, but it’s definitely you. The first one is of Hawks holding onto you after you bumped into each other, and the next few are of each of you laughing and why the hell is this on Twitter? Who took these?

The account that posted them is just an update account, you find - the caption reads “Hawks and an unknown woman in Tokyo today!”; unbiased, simple. The comments are mean, though, a bunch of angry fangirls screaming about how you’re probably a slut and a total bitch. It doesn’t bother you - there’s nothing between you and Hawks to be jeopardized by fifteen-year-olds - so you place a short, direct comment among them: “that’s me lol.”

Within a short time - fifteen minutes while you leave your phone to make yourself a simple dinner - your notifications are blowing up, likes and replies showing up everywhere. The situation itself is minor, it doesn’t affect you, so you simply turn on do not disturb as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.

That should do it.

The next day is basic - few customers, few employees, it’s no different than any other day. You’re in the kitchen most of the day, making donuts and bread and anything else that a bakery needs. It’s not until closing, when one of your employees tells you they’ve finished cleaning up and they’re about to leave, that you really step outside of the kitchen and into the front of house for more than a few minutes.

You’re throwing away the items in the display window when you hear the bell by the door ring.

You turn to tell whoever’s come in that you’re closed now - though it might be your fault since you forgot to switch the sign over from open to closed - but when you turn around you’re speechless for a moment.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” you manage to get out to Hawks. “Much less when I’m perfectly fine and not being terrorized by a villain.”

Hawks chuckles, and you notice another man beside him. He introduces him as his publicist, and you nod, but you can’t help from furrowing your eyebrows because why are the two of them here?

You’re at least ninety percent sure you didn’t ask that out loud, but Hawks’ publicist answers your question without any prompt.

“I’d like you and Hawks to establish a fake relationship.”

The bakery is eerily silent as you try to process what’s just been said, and you blink a few times before licking your lips and speaking. “I’m sorry, um - what?”

You cast a gaze towards Hawks and he sends you a sympathetic look, shrugging as he stands behind his publicist. I can’t help you, his eyes say, and what the hell is going on?

“I really don’t think I’m the right person for this -” you start to say, voice quick, but the publicist cuts you off quickly.

“I disagree, I think you’re the perfect candidate.”

Hawks steps into the conversation as he hoists himself up onto a table, not bothering to sit on one of the chairs. “It’d be easier,” he says, “there are already a bunch of pictures of us all over social media. I know you’ve seen ‘em.”

Ah, right, your brain says. “And you’re okay with this?”

Hawks smiles, unashamed, and you know firsthand now why everyone says he never takes things seriously enough. “Public image is the most important asset a hero can have.”

They’ve got a point about you being a good candidate, and you can’t deny that. The pictures are already on the internet, everyone already knows who you are by now, and it’d be a shock for someone else to suddenly come into the picture after rumors are already floating around. And Hawks is right about public image - whether you’re aiming for the top spot or not, you have to rely on the population to support you.

“If it makes any difference,” the publicist starts, “the publicity would help your business. You started it on your own, right?”

How the hell is he getting this information?

“Yeah,” you say, and you mean to say something more, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. He’s right, you realize, and then, and I need the publicity. Running your own business is no easy feat, and with how little customers you have… “Can I - can I have some time to think about it?”

The publicist hands you a business card with a prompt “please let me know your decision by tonight” before walking out of your bakery like nothing happened. You look at the card, flip it between your fingers gingerly. Hawks gets up from the table.

“If you don’t feel comfortable with it, I won’t make you do anything,” he says. “But this could help both of us, so I hope you do think about it.”

You nod at him, muttering a “yeah, I will,” before he too walks out of the bakery. The room is silent again, and you put the card in your back pocket as you finish cleaning out the display case. The walk home is quiet, calm, and it’s not until you get there, sitting on the couch, that you look at the card again.

You stare at the number on it, flipping and bending it through your fingers. He said to call him by the end of the night, you still have a few hours before you really have to decide…

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to dial the number.

#HAHAHA #IM SO EXCITED!! SO EXCITED!!!#bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #x reader #reader insert #imagine

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