artist!reader and skater!suna who you first meet in college one morning when you’re running late for class, carrying a comedically large portfolio across the campus square. your head is buried deep in your phone, checking for last-minute updates on the class. that’s when an abrupt gust of wind shoots across your face and forces your head up instantly, only to see a skater soaring past with hardly an inch of space between you.
“what the hell, watch it!” you yell, immediately stepping backward and using both hands to grasp your portfolio tightly.
the skater remains undisrupted, gazing forward and only casually waving a hand back to call, “my bad!”
artist!reader with skater!suna who you see again, a week after almost knocking you over. coincidentally enough, he's sat at the exit steps to the art building, tying his shoelaces with his skateboard next to him.
"fucking prick." you walk straight past, muttering under your breath.
he must have heard you because, within seconds, he's walking by your side. "no way! you're the girl from last week. don't tell me you're still mad about the other morning! it was an accident." he throws his hands up in disbelief.
you ignore him and continue walking.
artist!reader with skater!suna who is determined to befriend you after your brief interaction. he waits at the same steps of the art building until your classes finish, skating up to you when he spots your familiar figure. he attempts to strike up a conversation by commenting on how "serious" you always look, and it's then that you bite back with a witty retort and he grins.
"took you long enough to talk to me."
artist!reader and skater!suna who both hang out at the skatepark together one afternoon. you're practicing your motion sketches, discreetly observing suna skate and using him as a reference for your drawings.
suna walks over to you, leaning on his board. “whatcha drawing, picasso?”
“you,” you say without looking up. his heart skips and he can feel his face grow warm.
“oh yeah?” he peers over your shoulder. “do i look cool?”
“you’d look cooler if you didn’t wipe out every five minutes,” you deadpan, flipping to another page.
“alright, picasso,” he says, with a roll of his eyes. “let’s see you try then.”
and that’s how you find yourself on top of suna’s skateboard, gripping his shoulders for dear life.
“relax, you’ll be fine,” he says, holding your hands to steady you.
“easy for you to say,” you grumble, eyes wide as he starts to slowly push the board.
you don’t even make it five feet before you’re losing your balance and falling. suna doubles over laughing, pulling out his phone with a sinister grin. “hold still, i need a picture of this for the archives.”
“don’t you dare,” you warn, scrambling to your feet. but it’s too late—he’s already posting it on his story with the caption: skating > art
artist!reader who gives skater!suna the nickname deckhead, after a particularly grueling painting session.
“can you please just focus for once?” standing up from your desk and tossing your paintbrush aside, you continue angrily. “i’m trying to get this done, and you’re just—”
“distracting?” suna interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “you’re the one acting like the world’s ending because you can’t paint a perfect line.”
there’s a sharp jab of irritation. "it’s not just about the line! i’ve been working nonstop on this, and all you’re doing is—"
he cuts you off again, this time with a half-smile. “i know, i’m sorry.”
you close your eyes to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. but the words slip out before you can stop them. “god, you’re such a dickhead.”
the moment it slips past your lips, you feel the tension rise in the room. it’s silent but as if the universe had a sense of humor, you glare at his skateboard propped against the wall.
“no.” you scoff, shaking your head, your frustration turning into something more mocking. “you’re not even a real dickhead, you’re just a… deckhead.”
suna blinks, frozen for a second. “deckhead?”
you cross your arms, mouth curling into a sinister grin. “yeah, a deckhead—wandering around with that stupid board like it’s your whole personality. you just can’t be serious about anything!”
and then he laughs. suna laughs. he laughs so hard that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. he laughs so hard that you begin laughing too.
suna sighs slowly, dropping his gaze to meet yours. “i didn’t realize you were genuinely getting upset. i promise i didn’t mean to make you feel worse.”
you let your head rest against your desk. “i know. i’m just frustrated because i’ve been at this for hours and it feels like i’m getting nowhere.”
there’s a long pause before suna steps closer. “i’ll stop being a deckhead.”
he grins and ruffles your hair. “... but only because i care.”
artist!reader who invites an incredibly eager skater!suna to one of your artsy gallery showcases. he surprises you by showing up in an actual button-down instead of his usual baggy jeans and shirts, bringing along his skater friends who also happen to be equally fond of you. upon seeing your work, they all begin hyping you up loudly, drawing eyes from surrounding exhibitions and sticking out like sore thumbs.
at one point suna leans in and whispers, "i'm pretty sure that guy over there is trying to steal your vibe."
confused, you turn to see a very serious art critic examining your painting and it takes all your effort to not burst out laughing.
skater!suna who shows up unannounced at artist!reader's studio with a blank skate deck and a set of paint markers.
"what's going on?" you'd just woken up from a nap and suna thought you looked absolutely adorable.
"empty canvas," he breathlessly replies, distracted by his newfound urge to just shrink you and keep you in his pocket. "i thought you could make it cooler."
and he’s right because you do.
“dude, where’d you get that?” atsumu asks, pointing at the board the next time suna is at the skatepark.
“custom-made by that genius over there,” and suna proudly nods towards you, sat on the concrete of the park and deeply concentrated on a sketch.
artist!reader and skater!suna begin dating not through a grand confession, but just a subtle shift.
it happens when suna walks you to your class, a daily ritual that you've both become accustomed to, so it's almost instinctual the way he leans down and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. you both pause, realizing what just happened, but instead of freaking out, you're clutching onto one another from outside your classroom laughing.
from then on, there's no formal conversation about it--just a mutual understanding.
skater!suna who asks artist!reader to paint his nails black for him because he saw someone at the skate park with painted nails and thought they looked cool. you nod excitedly and oblige. by the end, suna’s nails are decorated perfectly in black, except for his ring finger which you sneakily managed to paint pink.
when he notices, he glares at you, “really?”
“you wear it well,” you shrug in response.
artist!reader who stumbles across a notebook in skater!suna’s backpack when he asks you to grab his phone for him. you’re curious and can’t help but flip through it to find… doodles?
you bring it back for him, his phone long forgotten. “are these supposed to be me?”
“woah, what the fuck! where’d you find this?!” suna snatches the notebook, immediately shutting it closed before offering you a sheepish grin. “art is hard, okay? not all of us are picasso reincarnated.”
you’re flattered he’s been doodling you in his spare time.
skater!suna who gets oddly competitive when other skaters are present at the skate park while you’re there. he pulls off more tricks than usual (which is already a lot because he’s always trying to impress you), but looks for your approval after every single one.
he may have gotten a little too carried away because the next second he’s slipping from his board and now he’s landed flat on his back. he groans, embarrassed while you laugh. he watches you from the ground and wonders if he should make a fool of himself more often just to hear you laugh. he doesn’t let this show and instead rolls his eyes, getting up from the ground.
“glad you’re entertained, y/n.”
skater!suna who loves to blast his music when practicing tricks vs. artist!reader who needs the quiet to focus.
“riiiiin! can you turn it down, please? i’m trying to concentrate.” you yell at him.
“i’m literally landing this trick for you.” he replies teasingly, turning the music up even louder.
you end up compromising with a pair of suna’s noise-cancelling headphones and he begrudgingly lowers the volume—slightly.
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