Dylan O'Brien Imagines

A Girl?// Stiles

You were the captain of Mystic Highs lacrosse team. You were the most aggressive person on the team, you played forward, making most of the shots- and calling the shots. The fact that you're a girl gave you an advantage and disadvantage. No one could see who you were underneath your helmet.

Tonight you were scrimmaging against Beacon Hills High, who were losers last season are now like champions.

You got on the field and warmed up with your team, running laps and practicing. You felt everyone's eyes on you, being the only girl on the field.

You got into position, standing up front, stick on the ground, ready to take the ball.

You snatched the ball, running down the field, dodging the Beacon Hills players before throwing the ball into the net.

"Yeah!" You laugh, running down the field back to your team.

You run it four more times, making the shot everytime.

But when you play it again, number 24 knocks your down, your helmet falling off.

"A girl?" You hear someone say. You stand up, snatching your helmet off the ground before going over to the bench.

You take a swig of your water before pulling your helmet on and getting back in your position.

"I'll go easy on you." You hear someone say before snatching the ball and making another goal.

Your team was ahead by 4 by the end, you were exhausted. You're team was exhausted, Beacon Hill was as well. But you had about 10 minutes left in the game before you win.

You were running when it happened, a guy with the jersey number 11 knocked you on your ankle, an unsatisfying crunch along with it.

"Ahh!" you screamed, pulling off your helmet, clutching your ankle. "I weigh like 100 pounds, you didn't have to throw me you dick!"

You tried to stand, but the pain in your ankle was to severe you fell back down.

That's when he picked you up, an arm around your waist, the other around your knees, holding you bridal style.

"We're taking her," he said to the dude who knocked me down. "Your moms working right dude?"

"Yeah, night shift," he said as he set you in the backseat of his blue jeep.

"You two are duchebags," you groaned as you shifted your foot. "I'm gonna be out for at least another season."

"Yeah Scott what the hell was that?" number 24 says to his friend. He lowers his voice a little. "Did you turn?"

"Turn into what?" you ask. "Okay you guys are fucking weird."

You pull into the hospital and you start to get out but number 24 picks you up.

"You know, you just broke my foot and drove me to the hospital and I don't even know your name." You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He had brown eyes, cheekbones that are quite impressive, and lips that were so...kissable. Wait what? Wow you can't like this dude.

"Stiles," he smiles at you. "Stilinski."

"Y/n," you return the smile. "Y/l/n."

You two smile at each other before he hits your ankle on the counter. "Ow you dick!" You scream before bursting into laughter.

A nurse comes and takes you back to a room. "Stiles and Scott please go home." The nurse says.

She wraps up your ankle after taking an x-ray. "Well it is fractured, you'll be out for a couple months."

She gives you some pain killers before leaving. You rest your head against the pillow before someone knocks on your door.

You look up and see Stiles, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. "This is my apology."

"Well your apology smells pretty nice." You laugh as you smell the flowers.

"You know since you broke my foot, you're going to help me get back into lacrosse when I'm healed." You point your finger at him.

"I would love to." He smiles.