You loved cooking. You jumped at every opportunity too, and Christmas Eve was no different. Different smells and aromas floated through the kitchen as you worked your ass off, cooking for your family, and of course, making sure there were enough leftovers to send to parents-in-law.

John was busy in the living room, keeping the kiddos busy so you could cook in peace. You could faintly hear his voice over “jingle bell rock”

“Cmon sunshine! Just put a little extra paint on yer decorations, yeah? I bet mum would love this. an artist at he-“ You heard him get cut off by what you could only assume was a tackle from your littlest, and a faux groan of pain followed.

“Arhg, ye got me! Alright, alright, get off of me, bloody-“ His chuckle could be heard as he gently picked up the kid, setting her on the couch. You stopped listening, since you were plenty happy that your husband was keeping your children busy, turning back to the stove to take out a ham.

“Hey, beautiful..” Hands wrapped around your waist as the familiar weight of Johns head nestle into the crook of your neck. “This all looks bloody fantastic..” He murmured gently, planting a kiss against the side of your neck.