Bang Bang [Sherlock x Reader] [ON HOLD]

NINE

"Right, I am going to assume you haven't forgotten the rules about the models. No inappropriate comments, no touching and no carving phone numbers into your pencils and "accidentally" dropping them, Dean." Professor Jeanne glances towards the guy next to you, who raises his hands up defensively.

You stifle back a giggle and instead focus on the piece of granite in your hand. It stains your fingers black, even creeping into the crevasses of your nails which makes you frown. 'That's gonna be annoying when washing my hands.' You think to yourself.

The model steps into the room while you're observing your nails, her body covered by a silk robe. The crimson color contrasts beautifully against her pale skin, as do her light eyes with her dark, wavy hair. You look up from your nails as the professor introduces her.

"Everyone, this is Miss Adler. She'll be today's model. You get 40 minutes, so make the most of it, and don't spend it all on perfecting her breasts." He looks over at Dean again, who's anything but shy about it since he's sporting a sly grin.

You watch her slowly drop the robe, leaving her in her birthday suit like the day she was born. Nothing is left to the imagination as she slowly drapes herself onto a couch and poses, and suddenly your eyes meet. Your chest tightens and you can feel your breath being cut off as you struggle to move your eyes away from hers, like you're falling under a strange spell.

Her lips curl into a devious smile as she doesn't look away and instead intensifies her gaze. You feel naked under said gaze, even though it's not you but her who's completely exposed.

"I suggest if you want anything on paper you'll start sketching, (L/n)." The professor snaps you out of the woman's trance, making your hand finally move to sketch.

As you glance back from your black fingertips to Alder, you suddenly wonder how she'd look if your hand made even the slightest contact with her pale skin. Would the black charcoal look better on her cheek, matching her black hair while contrasting against her light eyes? How much could you corrupt her before she would drown in the darkness? How-

Your trip down memory lane gets cut off when you hear Mrs. Hudson messing around with Sherlock's things. A shiver runs up your spine as your brain starts back up again.

"Do you always have to clean up their messes, Mrs. H? You're not their housekeeper."

You watch Mrs. Hudson from the couch as she grabs and relocates cups and bottles from the living room to the kitchen. "I know, but the last thing I'd want is a rat infestation inside of the flat."

She opens the fridge, wincing at the smell of the various expired foods. You suddenly hear her gasp. "Oh, dear! Thumbs?"

You shoot up from the couch, speed-walk to the kitchen and snatch the bloody bag from her hand, quickly shoving it back in the fridge. You give her a sheepish grin as she frowns. "Wouldn't want Sherlock to complain about his fingers being thawed, right?-"

The two of you jump up as a sweaty man suddenly enters the flat. "The door was... the door was..." Before he can finish his sentence he faints, his body making a large thump when it hits the ground. Mrs. Hudson meets your eyes, before she calls over Sherlock and Watson.

John is the first to come in, just as you're about to pick him up. "Woah, no need to do that, wouldn't want you breaking your sp-" You pick up the man with little issue, shuffle towards the living room and plant him down on a chair. "...ine?"

John's jaw is slack in surprise, but before he can ask you anything Sherlock enters. His nose scrunches up. "God, he smells disgusting. Based on the sweater and the current state of his hair, he hasn't showered since yesterday."