Professor Posh ➳ Teacher x Student/Sherlock x Reader

Wind Whispers

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It's Friday and I just finished my culture class with Dessia.

I have one thing to say, and that's the fact that my little genius Dessia,

Is mad about that professor.

Hiddleston. Thomas Hiddleston. The cultural professor.

He's OK I guess. I mean...I don't usually fantasize over my teachers as much as Kaeya and Dessia, but today was wild.

She was completely nuts over him!

Dessia, Kaeya and I scream his name when we're surprised. It's quite a strange habit.

But anyway,

We had met all our professors this week, which was awesome.

Professor Hiddleston let's us call him Mr Hiddles.

Doctor Watson is our health teacher, and his face is just so...epic.

Then there's Miss Hooper, who does biology. She's nice.

I like all my teachers, except Anderson. I freaking hate maths and he's a cock.

There, I said it.

But yea, I think everyone is pretty cool, other than Anders---

Wait.

Professor Holmes.

I don't know what I think of him, but I'm supposed to go to his classroom on Saturday for more deductions. I guess he's OK for a teacher. Definitely interesting for a human being.

"Y/N!" Dessia snaps me out of my train of thought.

"Yes?" I jump a bit, startled.

"I'm gonna head over and get some food with Kaeya. Wanna join us?" She asks.

"Actually, I've got to study for Miss Hooper's exam..." I reply with a sigh.

"Aw, fine. We'll get you some crisps." She lightly punches my arm, before heading towards the cafe.

I wave my goodbyes to her, and head up the stairs to my room, thinking about my classes and professors, when I bump into someone and loose my footing on the steps.

A hand quickly pulls me up by taking my hand, before I stumble backwards.

I regain my footing, my eyes widened -- the hand is still holding my own.

That was close.

"Thank you..." I smile, looking up at the person who helped me.

My smile fades when I see who it is.

"You need to be more careful." Professor Holmes says sternly, as he lets go of my hand.

I open my mouth to say something, but the words don't come out.

"What are you doing out in the corridors this late?" He asks.

"My lecture just ended, I'm heading to my room now. Besides, it's only nine." I reply, trying not to get lost in his eyes.

"You haven't heard, have you?" He squints.

"Of?" I tilt my head in confusion.

"Supposedly there's a rumor going around that the corridors are haunted." He tells me.