heyo, this is my first one shot in the tumblr community. you can request more for me to write if you’d like :)
concept: tom hiddleston as a shakespeare professor at your college.
warnings: none, pure fluff
“Cuckoo, cuckoo: Oh word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear!” his smooth British voice speaks, finishing the end of the poem “Spring” by William Shakespeare. He places the bookmark back in and closes the book softly, turning his face up to focus on the students in the room. “Now what’s your analysis on the poem? Before I dive in, I’d love to hear your point of views on this piece.” he speaks as he pushes his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, your eyes focusing on him. You raise your hand, noticing nobody else was, then begin to speak. “Well, Professor Hiddleston, I believe the poem is about the wife’s unfaithfulness to her husband, the sound of the cuckoo is supposed to sound like the word ‘cuckold’, a medieval term which is literally meant to describe a husband whose wife has been unfaithful to him, but usually the man is oblivious to the infidelity. This insists on the fact that the wife is seeing other men besides her husband and it’s about her infidelity and the poem shows us how nature’s seasons connects to human emotions and.. well and that. That nature brings upon emotions during the seasons and now that winter is over, well is his fear of domestic dread and so forth.” your jean clad legs sit crossed and you tap your pen against your notes as you speak.
Tom, known as Professor, sits in awe, you had just analyzed the poem as a whole without needing any help whatsoever. Since class had started a couple months ago, you’d always been one of his top students in his Shakespeare 101 class. He always looked forward to seeing you walk through that door for class, noting how much you paid attention and spoke, how much you enjoyed the literature and how you could understand it so quickly. He smiles softly before speaking, “(Y/N), that’s exactly what the poem is about. Are you sure you shouldn’t be teaching the class instead of me?” He chuckles softly and a crimson red beings to spread on your cheeks, you mutter a soft “thank you” before he asks the class if anyone else wanted to share their interpretation, and when nobody does, he speaks again to say to open the class textbooks to page two-hundred and thirty nine so you can move to one of Shakespeare’s plays.
You were so into your notes that you didn’t notice your professor end class and the students walk out. “(Y/N)?” he questions as he places a hand on your book, breaking you from your zone. You look up and see Tom towering over you, his left eyebrow raised and a sly smile gracing his lips. “Into our zone I see,” he says. You move a piece of your hair behind your ear as heat rushes to your cheeks. “Oh god, yeah, I guess so. I’m sorry, you probably want to get out of here and go home for the weekend.” you apologize as you pack up your class materials into your backpack. “No need to be sorry, darling, you were just very into your work and that’s not a crime. But before you leave is it okay we have a quick discussion?” he asks and you nod, studying his face. The way his slightly curly, chestnut colored hair looking so soft and his blue eyes overpowering your own, you notice he hasn’t shaved in a bit since his jaw and chin is covered in stubble, you were having a very hard time thinking, he even called you darling. “Ever since you walked into my class on day one, you’ve always been one of my top students. Your analyzing is brilliant and to be honest, I don’t even think you needed the one oh one class, you could’ve jumped straight into the advanced course,” he takes his glasses off, leaning against his desk which wasn’t too far away from yours because as much as you don’t want to admit, you purposely picked the front of the class to be near him, after all he is definitely a sight you like to see. You look at him with a puzzling look and before you can speak, he continues.
“You always answer my questions as well and I love hearing your input and ideas and point of view, there are others in this class who have a much harder time and I was hoping, maybe– if this wouldn’t be too much to ask, uh, could I have you be my teacher’s assistant for my other class? I’m working on different material with them and I’m rather behind on a lot of grading and I figure since you’re a top student that you could maybe help?” his legs cross at his ankles and his words sound almost nervous? But there is no absolute way that he, Tom, was nervous to ask you to be his assistant. “Now, of course, I would pay you because I understand you have other classes and this would take a lot of your time.” he finishes. You sit there, your heart racing and a smile on your face. “I would be very honored to be your teacher’s assistant, Professor Hiddleston,” you say as you get up out of your seat and sling your bag over your shoulder. His eyes instantly glow and his smile widens, a sigh of relief sounding from his soft looking, pink lips. “Thank you, love, you’re a lifesaver! And please, call me Tom, being called professor makes me few so old. Would you be okay if we go to the diner down the street and get some dinner while we discuss the details? If not, I totally understand and I can just email you,” he grabs his own items and pack them up before slinging his brown leather work bag over his right shoulder, his glasses perching again on his face.
“That sounds great, I’m starving.” you smile and you both head for the diner, a silent but comfortable walk. You simply cannot wrap around your mind that the teacher you have a major crush on picked you to be his assistant and even went as far as saying you could’ve immediately joined the advanced class. Dinner goes amazing, just as you had been hoping for. Tom’s phone vibrates and he looks down at the screen, your heart faltering for a second thinking that maybe his possible girlfriend(he didn’t mention a girlfriend at all but then again, dinner was more about you being his assistant for school and barely getting into your personal lives) and slightly frown. Tom sighs and you look up, cocking an eyebrow to question what was up. “Just a text from my mum, inviting herself over to my loft this weekend which I’m quite knackered about is all,” he smiles politely at you. You nod in understanding. “Well, I have to say I very much enjoyed dinner tonight. And again, thank you so much for the opportunity to be your teacher’s assistant, that means I get to indulge in even more Shakespeare than I already do!” you giggle then take another bite of your fries. He takes a sip of his earl grey tea and then speaks, “So, if you don’t mind, tell me more about yourself. I already know you’re a fantastic student and very much adore Shakespeare. What else is there to you?”
Your belly gets butterflies and you swoon, blushing before humming. “Mm, well. I love all literature. Honestly, I’ve always been obsessed with books and libraries and bookstores, there’s this great book store back in Los Angeles I’ve been to once called The Last Bookstore and oh my god I’ve never been to any other store that’s topped it. I love Netflix but I assume many people my age do haha. I enjoy the rain, it’s very calming and on rainy days I’ll sit by the window and listen to the rain hitting the window, ya know the pitter patter, pitter patter noises and open a book and read. When I was younger my parents used to complain that I never socialized enough because I would much rather enjoy a book at home than go out with friends. I don’t play any music or instruments but I definitely enjoy listening to it, basically any genre except country and that 'screamo’ stuff is enjoyable to me. I’d like to be an author one day if I’m being honest, but it’s very hard to get established and make money, so that’s definitely what I’m striving hard for. But yeah, I’m pretty lame besides that, don’t like partying really and enjoy the movies. If you want to know anything else, you can just ask.” you yourself are taken back at how smooth and easy it is to answer him since you’re horrible at talking to boys, especially boys you have feelings for. Tom sits there with a smile on his face watching you talk about your passions, his blue eyes laced with adoration and his arms, clad in a nice white button up shirt, crossing against his chest.
“You don’t sound lame at all, you sound refreshing. I don’t know many people nowadays who sound like you and speak the passions you just told me,” he laughs, not in a mocking tone, but in an adoration tone. “What about the theater? Or like in general, do you enjoy musicals and ballets? I figure you enjoy plays because you’re so fond of Shakespeare, but correct me if I’m wrong,” he finishes. “I love the theater! I love watching the Nutcracker during the holidays and I absolutely love musicals. My favorite is Chicago and Wicked. Plays are also an enjoyment of mine.” you speak before adding “tell me more about yourself, Tom,” and then continuing to eat your food. “Well, darling, as you can tell, I am obsessed with Shakespeare, in fact it started when I was at Cambridge for my schooling. I was and still am very into literature so I decided to take a Shakespeare class and it changed my life. I got so much more into theater and participated in theater at school and it led me to want to teach Shakespeare, you know to connect with others who appreciate his talent and help them savor it more and understand it more. Othello is my favorite play. Anyways, I love literature like you. Bon Iver is my favorite musician and his music is always nice to listen to. Superman has always been my favorite superhero. And I’m a child at heart, especially when one gets to know me.” there he goes again with that darling, making your stomach flip.
You guys continue to talk, listing your favorite movies and songs and colors and talking more about each other’s personal lives and childhoods. Tom can’t contain his smile when he looks at you, he spends the entire night studying your face and body language and your facial expressions, all that he deems absolutely adorable. Your phone goes off and you check it, a text message from your roommate asking where you were and when you’d be home, after all it was already nine o'clock at night. You text back that you’d be leaving in ten minutes tops and apologize for totally letting it slip by without saying what you were up to. “Hey, Tom, tonight’s been absolutely lovely and I’ve enjoyed every second of it, but it’s already late and I think I should head home, my roommate was a bit worried I’ve been gone all night,” you say softly, your heart not wanting to leave him. He understands completely and pays for the check, even though you protest, and offers to give you a ride home. “Are you sure? You already paid for dinner and I don’t want to be a bother at all,” you bit your lip. “What type of gentleman would I be if I left you alone to fend for a way home this late at night? It’s no problem at all,” he smiles and you walk with him to his car.He opens the door for you and you thank him. He places his bag in the back and gets in the front, turning the key in the ignition and you both buckle up. You give him your address and thank him, again, for giving you a ride even after treating you to dinner. You didn’t even feel yourself falling asleep as the car drove, Bon Iver’s “Re: Stacks” playing softly from the stereo in his car.
Tom takes the time you’re asleep to notice you more, especially in the soft lighting from the street lights. Your hair rests against the window, your mouth is slightly parted, your chest rising and falling at a perfect pace, your hands under your head as a pillow. He also notices how your body twisted just a tad to the side so you could be as comfortable as possible and he can’t help but smile and look back at the road. He pulls up at what he suspects your address is, one of the dorms for sophomores and juniors, he shakes you gently, pulling you from your sleep. “(Y/N), we’re here, I’m pretty sure,” he says softly, perfect music to your ears. Your eyes flutter open and you sit up. “Thank you, Thomas,” you say and rub your eyes. He chuckles softly at your tired state and waves it off. You bid your goodbye and get out of the car, slinging your bag on your shoulder and shivering at the cool night air. You look back and see Tom wave goodbye at you and then his car taking off to his place as you turn around and go up the stairs, turning your key into the door and unlocking it. You walk in and sigh, dropping your bag on the floor, lightly screaming when your roommate taps you from behind. “(Y/N), where have you been all night? With a boy maybe?” she wiggles her eyebrows at you and you giggle. “A man,” you say dramatically then finish with “the man!”
“Nah, I was with Professor Hiddleston, he asked me to be his teacher’s assistant and we worked out the details at dinner and then he drove me home. We must’ve just lost track of time is all,” you smile and see her facial reaction, shocked and happy. “But look, I am absolutely exhausted and we can talk about this tomorrowww, I’m going to bed,” you giggle and salute her goodbye, making your way to your room. You change into a giant shirt and plug your phone in, crawling under the covers and look up at the ceiling. This is wrong, your feelings for Tom is wrong, he’s your teacher and you know nothing good will come from getting involved. But you can’t help it, you can’t help but think about how soft and warm his laugh is, how comforting his smile is, how his black framed glasses make his face look somehow better, the stubble adoring his face and his chestnut, curly hair, his gorgeous eyes that you can swear have at least a dozen different shades of blue and green, even some specks of gold. You shake your head before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep on your silky sheets.
Tom couldn’t help but think about the night as well, he honestly did need a teacher’s assistant but he never imagined that you’d say yes. He lays there on his own bed, rethinking the entire night and smiles. He thinks about how you’d be spending more time together, possibly, and how you’ll be absolutely amazing being his assistant, after all you are his top student. He knows nothing serious will happen, he knows that you’re not his, you’re not his (Y/N). You’ll find someone soon and you’ll be their (Y/N), and he understands that fully. He sighs, looks up at the ceiling and runs his hand over the blanket that rests just up to his waist while his other hand ruffles through his hair. He shuts his eyes in frustration and sighs, shutting his eyes so he can fall asleep.
After all he will be seeing you in just a couple of days for class, and that was motivation for him to fall asleep and get through the weekend.
