Imagine Book 2

Skate into her Heart- Samantha Baker (Sixteen Candles)

As requested by Antisuperstar! Male Y/N

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the suburban park. Samantha Baker tugged at the hem of her oversized hoodie, which wasn't hers at all but belonged to her boyfriend, Y/N. It smelled faintly of his cologne and the faint musk of a well-loved skatepark, and she found it oddly comforting.

Y/N rolled to a stop on his skateboard a few feet away, one foot planted firmly on the ground while the other balanced easily on the deck. He grinned at her, the kind of grin that had made her stomach flip from the moment she met him. His hair caught the breeze, and Samantha couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly cool he looked.

"You ready, Baker?" he teased, leaning on his skateboard with a playful glint in his eye. "Time to shred."

Samantha crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes in mock indignation. "Don't call me 'Baker' like you're my coach or something. And for the record, the only thing getting shredded is my dignity."

Y/N chuckled and skated back to her, holding out his hand. "Come on, trust me. You'll be great. You've already got the most important thing down."

"What's that?" she asked, her voice sceptical but softening under his warm gaze.

"You look amazing in that hoodie," he replied, shooting her a wink.

Samantha laughed despite herself, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"And you're stalling," he countered. "Come on, Sammy. You've got this."

She sighed dramatically but placed her hand in his. His fingers were warm and rough against hers, and she felt a tiny thrill of electricity zip through her as he pulled her toward the skateboard he'd set up for her. It was a glossy thing, adorned with a graphic of a sunburst, which she was sure he'd picked out just for her.

"Okay," she said, exhaling sharply. "Let's do this. But don't laugh when I fall."

"I'm not gonna laugh," Y/N promised, his tone suddenly earnest. "But I will catch you. Every time."

It turned out, Samantha was very bad at skateboarding.

The first few attempts were comically ungraceful. She wobbled wildly as she tried to find her balance, her arms pinwheeling while Y/N hovered nearby, ready to grab her if she toppled. And topple she did—over and over again. Each time, she'd let out a little yelp of alarm, and Y/N would catch her just before she hit the ground, pulling her into his chest with an easy strength.

"See?" he'd say, his voice low and steady, "Told you I'd catch you."

Her cheeks would burn as she mumbled something about being terrible at this, but Y/N never seemed annoyed or impatient. If anything, he seemed to enjoy every moment.

"You're learning," he encouraged after one particularly hard fall that left her sprawled on the grass. He crouched down beside her, offering her a hand. "Skating's not about getting it perfect. It's about getting back up when you mess up."

"Who knew you were such a philosopher," she joked, grabbing his hand. He pulled her to her feet with an exaggerated flourish, bowing as if he'd performed a magic trick.

"I contain multitudes," he said with mock seriousness, earning another laugh from her.

After an hour, Samantha was exhausted, sweaty, and no closer to mastering the art of skateboarding. She flopped onto a nearby bench, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I'm hopeless," she declared, covering her face with her hands.

"You're not hopeless," Y/N insisted, skating over to sit beside her. His skateboard rolled lazily back and forth under his feet. "You're just overthinking it. Stop trying to control every move. Let yourself feel it."

"Feel it?" she repeated, peeking at him from between her fingers. "That's the most unhelpful advice ever."

Y/N grinned, shrugging. "It's true, though. You're trying too hard. Skating's like...dancing. You don't think about every step, you just move."

"I'm a terrible dancer, too," she admitted with a sheepish smile.

"You're not terrible at anything, Sammy," he said, his tone softer now. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. "You just need to trust yourself more."

Her breath caught at the way he was looking at her, his eyes warm and steady, like she was the only person in the world. For a moment, she forgot about her scraped knees and bruised ego, lost in the quiet intensity of his gaze.

"You're really good at this whole 'boyfriend pep talk' thing," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's a gift," he said lightly, but the sincerity in his eyes betrayed the joke. "Come on. One more try."

To Samantha's surprise, the next attempt felt different. She still wobbled, but Y/N's hands on hers steadied her. His words—calm, patient, and encouraging—guided her as she pushed off and glided forward, her movements tentative but growing more confident with each pass.

"There you go!" Y/N cheered as she managed to roll a few feet without stumbling. "See? You're doing it!"

Her heart swelled with a mix of pride and disbelief. "I'm doing it! Oh my God, I'm actually doing it!"

"Okay, okay, don't get cocky," Y/N teased, skating alongside her. "Next lesson: turning."

"Oh, no," she groaned, but there was a spark of determination in her eyes now. She was starting to believe she could do this, especially with him by her side.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Samantha was skating in smooth, controlled arcs around the park. She wasn't perfect—far from it—but she felt something close to freedom as the wind whipped past her face, carrying away the day's worries.

Y/N watched her with a mixture of pride and admiration, his arms crossed as he leaned against a lamppost. She rolled to a stop in front of him, a triumphant grin lighting up her face.

"Not bad for a beginner, huh?" she said, breathless and glowing.

"Not bad at all," he agreed, stepping closer. "But I think you owe me something."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"A thank-you," he said, his tone playful but his eyes serious. "For being the best skate coach ever."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. Thank you, Coach Y/N. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Damn right," he said, his grin widening. Then, more softly, he added, "I'm proud of you, Sammy. You didn't give up."

Her heart fluttered at the words, and she took a step closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. "I had a pretty great safety net."

His smile softened as he leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "Always."

The world seemed to fade away as he kissed her, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made her knees weak and her heart race. She kissed him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as she lost herself in the warmth of him.

When they finally pulled apart, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed. "So, does this mean I'm officially part of the skater crew now?"

Y/N laughed, his hands still resting on her waist. "You've got a little ways to go before you're doing kickflips, but yeah. You're in."

"Good," she said, her smile mischievous. "Because I'm stealing this hoodie."

"Fair trade," he said, pulling her closer for another kiss.

And as the stars began to twinkle overhead, Samantha decided that maybe, just maybe, falling wasn't so bad—especially when she had someone like Y/N to catch her.