saw my ex at a party a couple of days ago & instead of being the fake idgaf-er he usually is, he shared drinks with me and showed me the kind of music he likes . . .
requested ۶ৎ | keiji akaashi doesn’t like how popular you are.
you’re really popular at fukurōdani academy.
everyone in the school knows your name, and probably what you look like too.
but akaashi doesn’t like it.
sure he’s happy that everyone likes you, or at least almost everyone.
but he doesn’t like that you’re always swarmed by people the second you’re not in any of your classes.
you could step one foot out of your classroom, and there’d already be ten students around you, offering to carry your bag and offering you water.
it’s not because they happen to be at your classroom fast enough, it’s because they ditch the last ten minutes of class to be at your beck and call first.
or you’re at lunch, munching on an apple with people surrounding you, watching really intently how you eat an apple, like they’ve never seen a girl eat an apple before.
he doesn’t get it.
he doesn’t get why people have to be around you all the time, even if it’s just breating the same air as you.
yes you’ve got the whole package, you’re pretty, smart, unbelievably funny, and you’re so nice. you would barely hurt a fly.
but he’s a little blind sided considering he’s your boyfriend of three years. of course you’re the prettiest girl to him, you always have been.
and he knows how lucky he is to have you, considering almost every student at school would kill to date you.
your locker is always filled with love letters, with undying confessions in them that are a little too extra.
‘keiji, catch everything that’s about to fall out of my locker.’ you tell akaashi, taking a breath before opening your locker in a swift move.
you’d been sick at home for the past two days, so the regular amount of letters you get, have tripled.
there are a lot, of envelopes. and akaashi manages to catch most of them with the trash bag he’s holding, no other bag would fit this many letters.
and along with too many letters, there’s also a handful of plushies. ones that you will be keeping, a facemask, and a small pot with medicine in it.
that’s definitely one of the most random items you’ve gotten.
‘this would’ve been useful two days ago,’ you mumble, fetching the things you actually need out of your locker.
‘there’s still a letter in there,’ akaashi says, his hand brushing past yours as he grabs the letter in the corner of your locker.
‘oh, thanks.’ he hands you the letter, and your breath hitches at the handwriting on the envelope.
it’s akaashi’s hand writing.
your name is written in cursive, perfectly centered and neat.
‘a letter?’ your gaze flicks between him and the letter, turning it around to see the stamp being your initials, along with tiny hearts.
‘open it when you’re alone, call me after.’ he smiles softly, tying the trash bag and slinging it over his shoulder, quickly going to the trash bin to throw it out.
the only letters you should read are his, not from some stupid guy who’s only trying to get in your pants.
akaashi would rather you never get any other letters than the ones he writes you, but that’s out of the question.
a/n: i scrambled this together in 20 minutes with christmas music playing, also the end is a little half assed i’m sorry 😢
ⓘ texts with best friend! noya, platonic with slight flirting and suggestive jokes, fem reader, bush mentioned, swearing and some more stuff idk i love noya wdym theres barely any noya fics but at least im back at making lame ass smaus ♡
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