Tom Hiddleston x reader Imagines/ One shots

Loki- Little Sonnet

'Wow, people just don't read books anymore.'

You prefer having to study from a book, rather than your phone and laptop, as those devices are constructed as a distraction, and you're most likely to forget what you studied in the span of minutes.

You walk up to the main desk, handing the book to the librarian to sign it out.

After that, you head out into your favourite area of the University.

The courtyard.

It was your safe haven.

The only place where you could study without any interruption.

And at the same time take in all of nature's qualities that you miss, being trapped inside for the majority of your time.

You sit down at your favourite picnic table located underneath a Chestnut tree, which was said to have been planted when the University first opened, in fact which was an extremely long time ago.

It is the best spot because the sun shines perfectly down on your work without coming in contact with you. You don't mind a bit of sun, but if you were to be in it for too long, you'd look like a cooked lobster.

Ignoring the thoughts in your head you open the book to the index to find the page. Once you found it you turn the pages until you reach to it.

'Holy shit, that's a lot longer than I expected.' You think as you stare at the page with the Sonnet on it.

"Well freaking out won't help you Y/n.." you say to yourself.

'Thank goodness no one ever hangs out here. Because that would be embarrassing.'

You scan the Sonnet a few times. And then decide to read it out loud.

"Shall I compare thee, to a summer's day. Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of may, and summer's lease hath all too short a date;-." You continue to read aloud the rest of the piece of writing, and then suddenly feel confident enough to not look at the page.

You close the book, and close your eyes to avoid the temptation of opening it again.

"Shall I compare thee, to a summer's day.
Thou art more lovely and more t-t-t..." you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to picture the word that seems to be trapped deep within your mind.

"Temperate!" You blurt out in relief.

"R-Rough whales, no that's not right."

"Rough winds do.. do.. do what?! They do what??!"
You slam your hands on the wooden surface careful enough because with your luck you'd probably get a splinter in your hand.

'Maybe I should start from a different point, and then I could maybe piece them together... somehow..'

"By chart.. no.. chance or... nature's? Changing court.. no, course, untrimm'd,." You start, unsure.

"But.. But.. Fuck! I'm never going to get this! I might as well sign up for this course for next year.."

"But.. But.." you smack your hands over your face in frustration, as you lay your head down on the table.

"But thy eternal summer shall not fade." You hear a smooth voice speak from a distance.

You slowly lift your head up and turn around to see a very professional looking man, with glowing pale skin, ocean eyes and slicked back long black hair, that seems to curl naturally.

He was... Definitely a fascinating sight to see.

"Sonnet 18, Quite a beautiful piece of literature no?" His voice spoke snapping you out of your trance.