Oneshots (Johnlock, Mystrade, Mormor)

Amour

Ship: sheritarty
Type: Ballet!lock
Words: 1000 +
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The air was crisp and the the sweat of summer's drew could be felt on everyone's brow ; all apart from the boy who sat beneath the willow tree which was located on top of the highest hill in the town of Baskerville.  The boy was thin and smiple a twig to say the least,  his mop of black hair dropped carefully over his brow making his face seem like a proscenium arch in a theatre ; bold yet beautiful.  He sat alone reading,  as normal.  He had no one.  No one cared or seemed too, he had once had a friend but he had died a few years before and the thin graunt boy was never the same. The thin boy was called Sherlock Holmes and was part of one of the four founder families ; his father was the towns mayor and head of the town's crimewatch program,  his brother lived 2 hours away in London studying and working as a minor role in the government and his mother,  well his mother was some where unknown to his father she was probably in some toy boy's bed than in a meeting with her bosses. 

Though Sherlock was a lonely boy he had three interestes: bees, crime and ballet.  His mother had insisted he took it up along with tap and acting classes but the only one in which he felt at ease in was ballet. His figure made it easy for him to do leaps and twists and his feet were built to hold his weight when he went upon his toes. But there was another reason he enjoyed it,  his ballet teacher. 

His name was Mr Moriarty or sir.  He was handsome,  strong and crazy.  He part of many boardway musicals and was only twenty one years old and has a reputation for being the best and most creative. However there was a downfall to him,  he was the biggest prick in all the world.  He had it in for Sherlock ever since Sherlock had joined the seniors of the ballet school.  He was the only boy and the youngest.  The class in which was in only had four member excluding himself all were much closer to Mr Moriarty's age than Sherlock,  he was the seventeen year old twink after all and was considered the baby of the group.  But Sherlock non the less enjoyed his ballet and maybe even enjoyed the prick that was Mr Moriarty.

The heat,  was burning and the sun gave no hint of hiding behind a cloud so Sherlock gave up his shade beneath the willow and wandered along to his ballet studio hoping to find it empty. 

(a/n I do not do ballet and I don't know anything about it so I apologise) 

It took him no less than 10 minutes to get to the studio and change into his outfit.  While thinking of his music it was unaware of the shadow lurking - watching him. 

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Hours pasted and the more he danced the more he felt alive,  every leap,  every twist and every point made him feel electric ; it pulsed through his veins. When he stopped he could hear - clapping?  "Well done!  Well done Sherlock."  His voice was soft and his claps too,  his steps - elegant,  controlled.  "S-sorry sir,  I thought the studio was empty." Sherlock mumbled out and in return Mr Moriarty smiple smirked.  "Sherlock, please don't be sorry I was enjoying the view. And call me Jim or Moritarty no need for this sir business now is there?"  he stepped even closer,  the scent of his cologne suffocated his senses.  "But I have to say Sherlock you last twist was lazy and uncontrolled here let me help."  He swiftly marched behind Sherlock and gently placed his hands on his waist and pulled Sherlock into his chest,  he then so so elegantly placed his lips near his ear and spoke in a whisper "you need to more your hips more to the right,  yes there we go.  No move back, there we go." Sherlock obeyed ever command given to him. While Jim just kept smirking,  then out the blue he was in front of Sherlock towering over him ever so slightly. "Now Sherlock,  why are you in the studio,  it's a lovely day?"  why aren't you outside? " Jim purred out,  Sherlock simply replied "I-i was too hot outside a-a-and I wanted to be in here cause it's-s cool and -." Jim placed his hand on the back of Sherlock's neck sending goosebumps down his spine "Ah okay."  he smirked "why you stuttering?  Hey, you're normal so cocky, so cheeky so cute. Don't get me wrong I think you're adorable like this,  stuttering for me all for me."  Sherlock couldn't wrap his head around what Sir- Jim had said,  his heart was pounding his mouth and thoart dry, "Ever since you joined this class I was eager to teach you privately,  just you,  me and the music.  Just us no on else and now I can."  One hand was placed on Sherlock's neck the other on his waist pulling him closer, "Then why are you always so mean and cold hearted to me? Why Jim why?" Jim couldnt hold it in any longer he whispered "cause darling,  you're my favourite I can't have others knowing that,  they would  eat you alive and I can't have that."  Sherlock was shocked but not for too long,  because Jim rested his lips on Sherlock's,  opened mouth and hot, nibbling on his bottom lip with a yearning so strong it consumed both of them.  He moved his lips to Sherlock's neck licking and nibbling and biting his ear lobe and whispering "oh Sherlock, you're so beautiful, oh so beautiful." Sherlock let out a earthy moan." Jim please not here,  if someone was to see -"
"I've locked to the doors sherl don't you worry,"  he then moved so he was sitting on a table with Sherlock straddling his hips "Now sherl,"  he purred "have you been thinking about this,  now don't lie I know when you are."  he giggled "y-yes." that was all Jim needed,  "Well then my little ballet dancer show me how you dance between my legs."

Let's just say neither Jim or Sherlock could dance for a week after that day.

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Yoooo so I'm really sorry about the writing it keeps going like that so I apologise 😂I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry it's late