Tom Hiddleston One Shots

Professor Tom (Tom)

A small filler: Tom is a teacher in a really small English class in a university. When I say small, I mean twenty kids at the most in a class. And this is not one of those smutty ones where Tom is a sexy teacher lol

Tom's POV
As I pace around the classroom teaching one of my lessons, I see one of my students spacing off. This students happens to be my favorite student: (Y/n) (L/n). She is an amazing writer in her work and essays. She also happens to be a big fan of literature and many novels that are classics. The only bad thing is that she never speaks openly in class. She only writes her feelings or words onto a piece of paper. She's expressed a fear she had about people judging the way she feels about certain things. Honestly, I believe we all have a certain level of that fear, but the way she describes it is almost as if she lives in that fear.

"Miss (Y/n)." I say, making her zone back in and look at me with a smile. "Yes, Mister Hiddleston?" She asks. I haven't really heard her voice, but it's actually a very pretty voice. "Why aren't you being attentive in my class? This is the very first warning I've ever given to you." Her smile slowly falters and she says "I apologize. My mind just kind of went to another place and I began thinking."

Since I'm at the front of my classroom and my desk just so happens to be at the front of the class, I sit at my desk chair, smiling. "You won't mind sharing what you were thinking, do you?" I ask. Her smile resumes. "Of course not!" She says, sitting up straight. "It's just that when you mentioned Romeo and Juliet, I couldn't help but wonder how the book might've ended up if it would have had a different ending. I've always pondered this thought, I have to admit. Such as, what if Romeo and Juliet didn't kill themselves and possibly escaped to America, you know?" She chuckles at her statement. "Or, what if the father changed his mind last minute? There are so many alternate endings if you just think about it."

Now grinning, I clap my hands together. "Bravo! That is an amazing take on that!" I say, standing back up. She looks at me kind of scared and concerned, causing me to hold my arms out cautiously. "You're not in trouble, dear, not at all. Instead, you just earned a free one hundred as a quiz grade," She smiles again. I turn to the rest of the class and say "You all will have to write a three page essay that is due by tomorrow. Recreate the ending of Romeo and Juliet and turn it in." I announce. "Nice going, (obnoxious nickname you hate)." One student says behind (Y/n). "Six pages for you," I say, pointing at the student. "And a one hour detention. That should give you enough time to write an idea."

The bell then rings, releasing every student. Every student quickly hurries out, except (Y/n). I become concerned at her still form until her back shakes as she begins to sob. I quickly hurry over to her and hug her. "This is why I don't talk..." She says, as I push her head into my shoulder. "No, no, no, you're fine, (Y/n)," I say, trying to calm her. "You're a brilliant girl; if I were to be honest, I'd say you don't speak enough." She slowly looks up at me with tears rolling down her cheeks. "Really?" She asks. "Really." I assure her. She lightly smiles before quickly frowning again and jumping out of her seat. She begins to frantically gather her things in a hurry, making me confused.

"I'm so sorry!" She says, throwing her backpack onto her back. Her apology makes me raise an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?" I ask, confused. "Well," She says, stopping in front of me. "I just burst into tears in front of you, I got the shoulder of your shirt soaked, and I'm probably holding you back from something important." I lightly chuckle at her statement. "First, my shirt is fine. Second, I'm free for the next period. And third," I become confused once more. "Why would you be apologizing for crying?"

Nervous, she puts her hair behind her ear. "It-it's just something I really wasn't allowed to do before I went to my aunt's house." Her statement nearly makes my heart shatter in two. I know (Y/n)'s story: she lived with her abusive father until she was ten and went to her aunt's house to live for the rest of her youth. What's really sad about (Y/n) is her seasonal depression and anxiety. Luckily, her aunt helped her with the depression, but she's still affected by the anxiety. Hence why she just had a minor breakdown.

"I apologize about your past." I say, after a few moments of silence. She looks up at me with the most broken eyes. I hold my arms open for her just before she gladly accepts my form of care, tossing herself into them and laying her face against my chest. She doesn't cry though. She just holds onto me as I hold onto her while slightly swaying on my feet. If there's one thing I know about people who are healing, it's that they want to be treated as though they're cared for and loved.

Also, if there's one thing I realize about this moment, it's that I want to have more of these moments with her.