Chapter Text
"He's gonna be home soon, I know it," your mother in law says, the calmness in her eyes evident. She smiles at you, reassuringly caressing your arm; it helps, but you still can't quite get the peace you want.
You anxiously play with your fingers. Johnny was supposed to be there almost two hours ago, back from deployment. You're waiting for him to start everything. Presents are under the tree, meal on the table, still warm.
It doesn't even matter that he told you there might be some problems on the road since it was snowy, your head is full with bad thoughts what could possibly happen. The way his phone is unreachable is also troublesome, this man is always on his phone and has it around his ass. Either to play Candy Crush or text with you absolutely innappriopate things whenever he can, off or on the field, but he always has it.
You shake your head, as if it would make the dark scenarios go away. It's Christmas, nothing can possibly happen to him, right?
"Hope everyone's been good this year," you hear from the front door, the moment you decorated last cupcake. This familiar, warm voice makes you smile immediately, so you slowly walk towards the hallway even if you want to rush there; his family comes first, especially the cousins, little ones that run for their life to see him.
You love this view. You love seeing him being adored, wanted in every room possible. He's like a star, absolutely everywhere, no exceptions. Sometimes, it irritates you (especially his arrogant attiude), but most of the times, you smile. Just like you do now.
"And my favorite," he grins at you, opening his arms, and you melt into him, just like a marshmellow.
For a few seconds, it's just silence between you two, nothing except a tight hug and his close embrace that you could be in your entire life, if you'd have a choice. Then, with his arms still wrapped around you, he kisses your face a couple of times, not even ashamed a little bit about the crowd.
John MacTavish in a nutshell.
"Had me worried for a minute," you murmur, fixing his messy mohawk from the snow outside; Scot tilts his head with a slightly amused look.
"Worried about a lad like me? No way, love." He bites your ear playfully, at which you roll your eyes. "Had to collect some... thingies, on the way home."
"Thingies?" you raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side, simply curious what he has on mind. He nods, then points to his duffel bag, right by the door.
"Thingies. Gifts, for ye. Because you took care of the fam," he whispers, squeezing your waist tighter. You barely contain yourself from shrieking at this—this man does not have a hair of knowledge how strong he is. "And who's gonna take care of my favorite person on Earth, if not me?"
"Johnny, I—"
He interrupts your monologue before it even starts by kissing you again; and you have nothing to say afterwards. There's just a faint smile on your lips, and he's more than pleased that he actually managed to silence you.
"Merry Christmas, my love."