Stiles Stilinski Imagines

Soulmate

"So, what's the problem?" Deaton asked as he thanked Lydia as who helped him clear away the last of the day's clutter.

"(Y/N) and Stiles, they won't say anything's wrong, I don't think they want to bother us but..." Scott trailed off as Lydia came back into the room.

"Yesterday's game, Stiles sprained his ankle except it was (Y/N) that got hurt, it started as small things like bumps and bruises." Lydia explained.

"When they touch, each other does anything happen?" Deaton asked quickly.

"Yeah, an omega jumped out in front of the Jeep and sent them both of the road, once we sorted it he kissed her forehead and hugged her, she had a burn and heat stroke... why?" Scott asked.

"I'm going to guess that Stiles thinks somethings wrong but as usual (Y/N) wants him to give her something concrete to prove his theory's, right?" He asked fondly while bracing himself on the table in front of them.

"Pretty much." Scott sighed.

"The good news is that they won't die... yet." Deaton started and Lydia frowned.

"Yet?" She asked and Deaton nodded.

"They will keep interacting and eventually the contact will spark a fire, more like an explosion but there is a way to stop that from happening." Deaton hesitated.

"I'm guessing it's the bad news and the difficult part?" Scott asked as he glanced up from the spot he'd been staring at on the table.

"If they come to the conclusion that they are soulmates buy themselves they should be able to shall we say extinguish the threat of combustion?" Deaton muttered.

"So, we can't help them at all?" Lydia and Scott asked in sync.

"I suggest locking them in closets and getting them stuck in detention together." Deaton offered as advice.

"Stiles you jerk." You huffed as the teacher caught him passing a note Lydia had sent you, landing you both in detention.

"Hey it's not my fault." He defended when you rolled your eyes at him.

"You didn't have to try and read it!" You hissed.

"(Y/N)! Stiles! Outside until you both decide to pay attention like everyone else." The teacher called. You didn't even bother to grab your bag, Lydia would get it for you, plus it lessened the temptation to give up and head home.

"I'm so sorry (Y/N) I didn't mean to!" Stiles blabbered.

"You never mean to Stiles." You sighed and pulled at the bottom of your flannel to straighten out the crinkles.