Mr. Hiddleston (Pt.2)

809 26 3
                                    

~
warnings: age gap, high school student x teacher
setting: school
story type: dark-fic
- this story contains things that people may find disturbing or uncomfortable, read at your own risk-
-

    I sank down onto the cold seat of my desk, flipping my journal open and picking up where I had left off the previous day. Yesterday was.. eventful to put it mildly. My teacher now knew how pathetically lonely I was and I had managed to embarrass myself more times than I am proud to admit.

The door opened and Mr. Hiddleston strode to his desk. I quickly took notice of my white notebook paper poking out of his folder.

He had read my play?

I didn't expect him to actually read it— I expected him to take it just to be polite, but he was actually reading it. I smiled. He was a very genuine person then.

"Alright class, today I have an assignment similar to yesterday's. This time it will be on Titus Andronicus," He made eye contact with me before continuing, "Since this work of Shakespeare is very unpopular, take as long as you need. No time limit today." He clasped his hands together with a tight smile and sat down in his leather chair.

That little-

He looked up at me, throwing a playful wink. I childishly stuck my tongue out at him and smiled. Mr. Hiddleston grinned and lifted up a sheet of notebook paper, dramatically reading it.

He was reading my fucking play.

I beamed at him and went back to my work, even though I would finish in no time flat.


The lunch bell blared loudly and I watched as everyone quickly left the classroom, eager to see their peers. I stayed put, biting down on my lip in concentration as I sifted through ideas in my head for the second scene of my play.

A tap on my desk pulled me from my thoughts.

I looked up to see my desk neighbor, Jacob Scott. The guy who had stared me down yesterday.

"You're Y/N right?" He asked, smiling at me.

"That's me." I said nonchalantly. Please don't ask me out, please don't ask me out.

"I was wondering if maybe I could walk you to lunch today?" He nervously asked, fidgeting with his backpack strap. I immediately noticed my teacher's head perk up, eyeing Jacob suspiciously.

Well that's different. I like it.

"That's really sweet of you, but I stay in here during lunch." I said, giving him my best friendly smile. He must have mistook my sudden friendliness for something else. Ugh.

Mr. Hiddleston seemed to tense as Jacob sat down next to me in his desk.

"I could stay in here today. I'd like to get to know you better. I myself enjoy Shakespeare and his works." He pulled his desk closer to mine. Was he trying to flirt with me? There's no way this jock was into Shakespeare. I swear if he says his favorite play is Romeo and Juliet— I will barf.

"What's your favorite work of his?" I asked, my suspicion rising.

"Macbeth." He replied.

Wait— what? He actually reads them??

I grinned, "I enjoy that one as well. My favorites are Hamlet and Titus Andronicus, the one we did an assignment on today."

His smile brightened at my grin as he pulled his assignment out.

"Today was the first time I ever read this one, I am a bit confused about this scene, could you help me out? I don't want you to give me the answer or anything, I just can't figure out why this is written the way it is." His brows pulled.

I moved my seat closer to his and peered over at his paper. Ah, this scene confused a lot of people. I personally found no difficulty reading it, but Shakespeare uses an older style of English, so I understand how he got confused.

I stole a glance at my teacher, who was silently skimming over papers, his jaw clenched. What was with him today?

After I had helped Jacob with the passage, he excused himself to lunch. I glanced down at my phone. I still had 45 minutes in here with Mr Grumpy-pants.

"Alright. what's wrong?"

He looked up at me, his eyes at the top of the paper. "What do you mean Miss L/N?" He asked, his voice strained. Oh yeah, there's something wrong.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my desk to touch his, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms.

"Talk."

He set the papers down, running a hand through his ginger curls and sighed, "I don't like Mr. Scott. He has a very bad reputation."

"What do you mean by bad reputation?" I asked, furrowing my brows. His ocean eyes met my own and his jaw relaxed slightly.

"His grades are failing, he has been caught selling drugs in the restrooms— must I carry on?" He asked.

"He seemed fine to me."

He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose, "He's not."

"People can change Mr. Hiddleston." I said, watching as his jaw flexed. Good heavens he was a million times more attractive when he was worked up.

"That is true, although I cannot see that happening with him. I don't want him around you."

My breathing faltered at his words. Didn't want him around me? Was he just being a good teacher and watching out for me? Or...

"He could tarnish your reputation. He was using you for assignment answers just now." He pressed, his eyes boring into mine.

Drat. I thought my fantasies were coming true.

"He isn't going to hurt my reputation Mr. Hiddleston. You wanted me to make friends, so I did. No harm done."

"No harm done? Making friends with a known drug dealer could make you an accessory. An accomplice. Do you realize that means jail time?" He spat, narrowing his eyes.

"Since when did you care so much about my personal life?" 

"I started caring so damn much about your personal life the first time I saw you in my classroom." He seethed.

My eyebrows unfurrowed and my face softened.

What? He— wait did he just swear??

His eyes softened at my expression and he looked down, inhaling deeply. My mind was scattered everywhere. Did this mean my fantasies would come true? Or did he only see me as a friend? I met the guy yesterday for crying out loud. I definitely don't believe in love at first sight— but could it be true?

"Y/N," he started, "I do care about your personal life. I don't want you mixed in with the wrong crowd and end up posing for your mugshot. I do want you to make friends, but all I ask is that you pick a better crowd." He explained, a soft, velvety tone to his voice.

My heart sank. I shouldn't be developing feelings for my teacher, it was wrong— and not to mention very illegal. But I couldn't help it. There was something about him that made me want to be around him, longing to be near him.

I sighed, smiling sadly at him.

"I guess I'm just so desperate for friends that I'll pick whoever knocks on the door first." I chuckled.

He frowned deeply, "I'm your friend Y/N. I know I'm just a teacher— but I feel awful for you. I grew up feeling exactly the way you do now. I know how it feels," He reached across the desks and placed his hand on my shoulder, sending tingles throughout my body, "I'm here for you. As a friend."

I felt tears pool in my eyes. No one had ever cared this much about me. Not even my own family.

I sucked in a shaky breath and smiled at him, "Thank you Mr. Hiddleston. You have no idea how much this means to me." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hoodie sleeve and sniffled.

He smiled warmly at me, "Please call me Tom, Y/N. But only when it's us." He joked.

I grinned, "Okay Tom."

-

word count: 1345

Tom Hiddleston and Loki Laufeyson ImaginesWhere stories live. Discover now