[CONTAINS SMUT!] ❗️18+❗️
~~~
Being the youngest Holmes was always quite the journey, especially when you didn't want to show off your talents, maybe even lack of such. Compared to your brothers you were always the 'dumb' one. The teachers saw it, yo...
Your childhood home started to appear in the distance through the landscape of country. Jim was typing away at his phone as you were fast asleep, head on his lap. Sherlock drove while Mycroft was the definition of backseat driver. John continuously rolled his eyes and told Mycroft to stop complaining, from the passenger seat.
Jim tapped your shoulder lightly until you stirred, the car halting in front of the large house. An old couple rushing out, the man oddly-enough wearing an apron.
"Y/n, wake up," your boyfriend urges.
"No,"
"I'll eat all your chocolate,"
"I'll end you," you snap, getting up and yawning loudly. "With a toothpick," the glare you held dropped when you saw your parents. "Move!" You scamper over John. "Mummy, daddy!" embracing into their arms, you hold them tight. "I missed you!"
"Look how much she's grown!"
"And still a child," your mother teases with a smile as you gleam at the pinch to your cheek.
"Mother, father," your brothers greet with stern nods.
"Always so formal, I remember you calling us mummy and daddy just yesterday, remember that, Mr Holmes?" Your mother looks to your father who nods.
"When they do it's mockingly," sticking your tongue out, Mycroft looked close to hitting you with his umbrella.
"We expect no less, but you're still mummy and daddy's princess," your father kisses your cheek before hugging you tight. "It's nice to feel younger, like when you all were still semi-normal children," your brother's rolled their eyes again as you giggle. "Now, which one is it?" Mr Holmes asks.
"I can only guess," Mrs Holmes hums looking between John and Moriarty.
"She always had a type, didn't she, Mrs Holmes?"
"Mathew, Joshua, Liam, Charles," your mother lists.
"George, Christian, Oliver, Henry,"
"Don't forget Victor!" she adds as your eye twitches. "Oh, we're being silly, just take a joke, Y/n, it is Christmas eve after all,"
Your deadpan was met with a snicker/snort from your brothers. "Very funny, 10 minutes here and I'm already being bullied,"
"Come on then, introduce us before we have to do it ourselves," you mother nudges.
"This is Jim Moriarty, Jim, these are my parents, Wanda and Timothy Holmes,"
"Lovely to meet you both," Jim shook both hands with a tight smile, unable to process how to act.
"So what do you do, Jim?" Your father invites everyone in.
"He's a criminal," Sherlock snarls.
"Yes, I've heard, William," Timothy laughs. "Evidently Y/n and I will stay as the sane ones of the family,"
"Uhm, yes, well I am a consultant,"
"Consulting with terrorist cells and rogue governments!" Sherlock yells again, dragging his bags through the door and up the stairs.
Jim closed his eyes for a moment to calm himself as you flipped Sherlock off, the detective sticking his tongue out at you.
This was going to be a very long and taxing Christmas.
~~~
Your mother was cooking Christmas dinner when you were looking over old photos next to Jim. "Mummy! Where are the fishing photos??"
"I'm not sure! Ask your father!" she calls, cutting up potatoes.
"Daddy!" You yell out.
"Yes, Y/n??" Your father calls from upstairs
"Yes, kitten?" Moriarty hums, eyes still on his phone. Jim looks up, meets your eye then looks to John, Sherlock and Mycroft who were staring.
John shakes his head, trying to erase the moment from his mind. Mycroft unable to suppress both his disgust and amusement as Sherlock's eye twitched in anger.
"I'll just go..." Jim glides out the room with a held in laugh.
"Really, Y/n?" Mycroft deadpans. You shoot him a pair of finger guns before racing out to help with dinner.
~~~
"You're a little shit, Moriarty," you smack your boyfriend on the shoulder an hour after the incident as he finally let out all his laughter.
"No, that was hilarious!" His eyes were shut, shoulder forward and head tilted back.
"No it wasn't! You left me," you grumble. "Had to deal with those idiots then mum and dad asking what everyone was talking about,"
"Mm, my poor darling," Jim ruffled your hair before running his fingers across a shelf in the corner of your old bedroom. "You have weird knick knacks,"
"Thank you, I take pride," you huff, folding your arms and looking out the window.
"Don't be so glum," he groans playfully. "How can I make it up to you?" You feel his arms wrap around your waist, head perched on your shoulder. "Mm, I love you,"
"I don't,"
"Stop lying~" he sings before peppering the crook of your neck with kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you~"
Biting on your inner cheeks to hold back the smile, you fail and sigh. "I love you too,"
There was a short moment of silence as you both just stood there before his hand slipped into his pocket to start playing a song: Snowman by Sia, a slowed version.
"Dance with me?" he held his hand out which you took, being spun out to face him. The lyrics flowed out, Jim holding you in his arms tight, hand rested on your waist. "I want you to know, that I'm never leaving," he sings softly.
"You are my home, my home for all seasons," you pick out the perfect line meaning every word for him. Feeling his forehead against yours, both eyes closed shut in a slow sway.
He hummed along with you, then letting your head rest on his chest, a kiss on your head and chin resting there. "I love you forever," he mumbles the short lyrics, not bothering with the other words.
Mr and Mrs Holmes peered into the room with bright smiles. Looking to one another in awe, Mr Holmes wiped away the falling tears from his wife's eyes.
They pushed their head together, moving their gaze back to their daughter in a state of pure happiness and bliss.
~~~
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