teen spirit ' fear street oneshots

' teacher '

'

unpossessed! isaac milton/the grifter x reader
prns : she/her
tw : sexual themes

'

"Are you completely certain this is what you want to do, Ms. [L/N]?" Isaac lowered his mask onto his face, looking at you.

You rolled your eyes, smiling.

"Isaac, I told you that you can address me by my first name."

He chuckles, "But that doesn't answer my question, '[Y/N'." Isaac air quotes your name.

"Yes, yes. Welding is my passion, and I need to learn it some way or another. Erase your toxic female stereotypes. Women can work too."

You stuck your tongue out at Isaac. He scoffed,

"Alright, alright. But you better put that tongue away. It isn't well mannered to do so at someone, let alone your teacher."

"I'm paying you, Mr. Milton, and I do as I please." You placed your hands on your hips, pouting.

Isaac hummed, getting behind you. He towered over you. He was pretty much 6'10". He was intimidating yet he had such a gentle personality.

"Alrighty, so you must grasp these two tightly, or else the metal is going to go flying across the room." He chuckled.

Isaac placed his large hands on yours, helping you grab the things you need.

A faint blush washed over your face. You've known Isaac for a while. He was a family friend.

He had been tutoring you since you were 17, teaching you the basics of welding. He finally let you get into real stuff at the age of 23.

Isaac was around 35 or 36, but was insanely attractive for his age. The welders mask just made it sexier.

Despite that, he was a very close friend of yours. Almost like a best friend. You'd tell him everything; all of your secrets included.

He listened to your problems and helped you out. He'd get you out of trouble when you did something foolish. You spent a lot of time with him, and enjoyed it.

How could you not love the man?

Isaac's hands were scarred and burnt, most likely from welding. They were rough to the touch, but warm.

His front was pressed against your back as he helped you weld. You started feeling butterflies start to form, causing you to lose focus on the task at hand.

For the split moment that you were distracted, you accidentally burned your hand.

You yelped and jumped back into Isaac, hissing in pain.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" You shook your hand, thinking it would somewhat ease the pain.

Isaac pushed his mask up, looking a bit shocked. It turned into a disappointed yet worried expression as he went over to turn the machine off.

Tears stung your eyes.

Isaac pulled out some alcohol and gauze from a drawer nearby.

"Why the alcohol?! It's going to hurt even more!" You whined as he took out a stool and sat on it.

"I am hoping you don't want it to get infected," Isaac says, cleaning the burn.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the stinging pain. Isaac finally wraps your palm in light gauze.

Yet, he doesn't let me of your hand. Instead, it tightens.

He looks up at you, "Why did you lose focus?"