“How rare and beautiful it is to even exist,”

Dragon Hunters seem to have a never-ending schedule of making your life difficult.

All you wanted to do was sit outside your hut (that you spent far too much time deciding where to place) and enjoy the beautiful view with your dragon, boyfriend, or friends.

Easier said than done.

When your boyfriend is Hiccup Haddock, who has devoted most of his life to protecting dragons, free time doesn’t come often. Hiccup’s values are part of why you fell so hard for him, but sometimes it seems to take away from your relationship.

Lying in your bed thinking all of this over is not a great start to your morning. So, you climb out of your bed, throw on some clothes, and whistle a wake-up call to your dragon, who is sleeping soundly.

Your dragon groans and moans at being woken up at such an early hour, barely opening an eye to look at you.

You scoff under your breath, completely aware they could still hear it, "Don't worry, I haven't lost track of the time. Let's go for a ride, just you and me." You move to get their saddle as they move around loudly in protest.

"Weren't you the one who wanted to start doing this?" You bring up the time Hiccup mentioned that he and Toothless go for early morning rides often, and how your dragon looked at you with eager eyes, clearly wanting to do it as well.

Now, however, your dragon lets out a regretful moan in response.

You throw the heavy saddle over their back with little difficulty. "Come on, if you really don't like it, we'll end it early."

//————//————//————//————//

Your dragon's behavior has done a full one-eighty. How the dragon you're riding on now and the one you argued with this morning is the same creature baffles you.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" You tease, watching your dragon close their eyes at the feeling of the wind hitting their face.

They snort and suddenly drop a few feet in the air.

A shriek makes its way out of your mouth, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you aren't falling anymore.

"Not funny." You ground your teeth a little.

All your dragon does is laugh in response.

Just when you get over your shock, a familiar voice startles you.

“Good morning, milady!”

Turning your head to peer over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the voice, returning his wide grin with your own.

“Good morning!” You laugh, only needing to wait a minute more before Hiccup and Toothless are right beside you. Your dragon and Toothless exchange greetings as you and Hiccup chat.

“Didn’t expect to see you out so early. Something on your mind?” Hiccup questions.

You shake your head, the grin never faltering, “Just wanted some fresh air, before everyone wakes up. But it seems someone is up.”

Hiccup chuckles, “Oh, you know, just out looking for some adventure. Right, bud?” Toothless grumbles in agreement.

“Adventure, you say? Well, do share with the group.” You say playfully.

Hiccup waves his hand in dismissal, “Unfortunately, Toothless and I have seen quite enough adventure for one day. But, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing our stories with you, milady.”

“You’re all out of adventure for the day? Don’t say that, Snotlouts not even up yet.”

You delight in the sound of Hiccup's laugh echoing around you.

//————//————//————//————//

"So this is where you run off to, hm?" You tease, sitting down on what you previously believed to be a watch tower, now, realizing it was Hiccup's camouflaged hideout.

Hiccup scoffs playfully, "I don't run off anywhere."

"You're right, you fly." You quip.

Both Hiccup and your dragon roll their eyes, but Toothless lets out a snort of amusement.

"At this point, he barely walks himself anywhere, isn't that right?" You look over at Toothless, who happily humors you.

"All right, all right. I guess I won't be taking you on any morning rides then, bud." Hiccup smirks, looking pointedly at his dragon, who no longer looks amused. "Nothing to say, Toothless?" Hiccup pokes, earning a glare from the Nightfury.

"Don't worry, Toothless. If he doesn't take you on any morning flights, I will." You intentionally whisper loud enough for the other two to hear, earning a protest from both, and your dragon even goes as far as glaring at Toothless. Meanwhile, the Nightfury lets out a laughing grunt and hops around in satisfaction.

"What?" You address your cranky dragon. “Do you know how hard it was to get you out of the hut this morning? I'm sure Toothless wouldn't make it so hard for me." You tease, grinning.

"Now wait a minute, who said you could steal my dragon?" Hiccup objects.

"Your dragon." You reply with a smug look, hearing Toothless agree behind you.

Hiccup's mouth opens, but no words come out, as if he can’t believe the things he’s hearing.

You were so busy soaking in the satisfaction you felt from seeing Hiccup's lack of response that you didn't notice your dragon make its way over to you until they knocked you over with their head.

"Hey!" You shriek as your dragon "attacks" you. You can hear Hiccup's laugh and Toothless's sound of surprise in the background. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I was just teasing!" Finally, they let up, looking satisfied with themselves.

"Like rider, like dragon." Hiccup comments.

You scoff, "Says you."

Hiccup leans back against a rock, smugly. "Says me."

You lean back against your dragon and shake your head.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you open conversation: "Any news from Johann?"

Hiccup sighs, "No. I know he's scouting almost as much as us, but it's as if they've gone completely underground."

"Maybe they finally feel defeated; with the more people we meet and allies we gain, the more unpopular the dragon hunters get." You offer.

"Maybe. Or they're planning their next ambush on a new dragon. I don’t like how quiet they've been." Hiccup confides, shaking his head, expression grim.

"We'll keep looking, Hiccup. Once we find them, we'll stop whatever they're doing, just like we've done before." You send him a reassuring smile.

Hiccup’s eyes soften when they meet yours, and he nods in agreement.

Seeing an opportunity, you find a way to bring up your next sentence, "While the dragon hunters are quiet, maybe… we could spend some time enjoying it." At the confused look on Hiccup's face, you continue, "It's been a long time since we've hung out together, just the two of us."

"We're hanging out together right now?" Hiccup points out, still looking confused.

"I know. But just the two of us." You amend, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Oh. Oh." You see, the moment Hiccup understands.

"I know everything has been chaotic, I was just wondering since we seem to finally have some downtime. It'd be beneficial to spend it doing something other than talking about the dragon hunters." You explain quickly.

"No, you're right. It has been a while since we've hung out, just the two of us, huh? What were you thinking?" Hiccup asks, eyes curious.

You hesitate for a moment. "I don't know, I wasn't even sure if you wanted to, so I didn't really think about what." You say.

"You think I wouldn't want to hang out with you? Of course, I'd want to hang out, just us. I enjoy your company more than anyone else." Hiccup declares.

You smile genuinely, "I've been wanting to go down to the beach and examine the shells, see if I could find any fossils or something. How about that?"

Hiccup grins, "Yeah, that sounds fun."

Your smile grows, and you stand up feeling high with glee, "Come on. The others will be up soon, and we don't want them setting the edge on fire before breakfast again." You offer your hand to Hiccup.

"No, we don't." Hiccup agrees, taking your hand, "Thank you, milady."

"So…race you back to the edge!" You hop on your dragon's back.

"Wha-Hey! Wait a minute!" Hiccup calls after you, hopping on Toothless' back, "That's not fair!"

//————//————//————//————//

edited on 05/13/2024

All you can see is darkness, but register the familiar warmth beneath you. Immediately you know it’s Peeta. His chest rises and falls as he sleeps peacefully with his arm curled around you protectively, keeping you close to him.

Peeta is always warm. Which doesn’t hurt now that fall has begun, but it does make it harder to get out of bed in the mornings.

You snuggle up into him, your face going into the crook of his neck. Everything about him makes you feel at home.

Even though you try to fall back asleep you know it won’t happen. You savor the last few moments before you’ll push yourself out of bed.

But when you try to get up, Peeta’s arms tighten.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice is laced with sleep and you know he’s only barely awake.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You answer quietly

“What?” He uses his other hand to rub his eyes as he struggles through the haziness of sleep.

“I’m going to get a shower.” You repeat a little louder.

Peeta looks over at the curtains to glance outside, “The sun isn’t up yet. We can sleep for a couple more hours.”

You shake your head, the fact that he won’t be able to see it not present in your thoughts, “I tried, but I’m already awake. Go back to bed, honey.” Carefully moving off of his chest, you retreat back to your side of the bed.

Peeta protests, “Can’t sleep without you.”

Knowing he made up his mind, you withheld any further protest, “You sure? It’s pretty early.” You say, feeling guiltly for disrupting his rest.

Peeta’s nod is barely noticeable in the dark, “Maybe the shower will wake me up.”

You hear the bed creak, Peeta’s loud footsteps, and then the overhead light is turned on.

You flinch from the sudden brightness and hear Peeta chuckle, “Sorry, baby.” He sounds amused.

The sound of his heavy footsteps continues to fill the otherwise quiet room while you rub your eyes.

You feel the familiar roughness of Peeta’s hand tilt your head up and give you a loving kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll go start the shower.” He says before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom.

You use the little time alone to pick out an outfit. You lay it out on the small ottoman at the end of your bed next to the outfit that Peeta chose for himself the night before. You laugh quietly at seeing the simple white button up with tan pants. He barely gets cold in fall.

“Better hurry unless we want to waste all of the hot water, sweetheart.” Peeta teases from the bathroom door.

//————//————//————//————//

You and Peeta have been together for a little over ten years, so it’s only expected that the two of you would move in such a way that is familiar and routinely.

Peeta always lets you step into the shower first, he lets you soak under the warm water before it’s his turn. Then, he’ll pull you into his chest for a sweet hug, just letting the two of you bask into the warmth of each other. He’s constantly giving you kisses, on your shoulder, your neck, and your face.

One time, you were running late for an event and had the misfortune of a quick shower. The usual intimacy the two of you shared was skipped over leaving the both of you feeling a little more restless than normal.

In fact, it seemed to be the only thing driving Peeta’s mind that day as he would make little comments about his day not starting off right whenever given the chance.

It didn’t matter that the two of you were exhausted by the end of the day. The bath was still drawn, and the two of you relaxed in there to make up for what you lost in the morning, even though both of you were on the verge of sleep.

The memory of that day effectively reminds you just how much the small moments you spend together matter to you.

Back in the present, Peeta’s hands rubbed up and down your back, making you shiver.

Your shower routine was done before you could properly savor it and Peeta was wrapping the soft towel around your body, keeping you warm after stepping out into the cool air.

“We have a few hours until the kids are up, what’s on your mind?” Peeta asks, rubbing your arms for extra warmth.

“Food.” You answer immediately.

Peetas laugh echos in your bathroom and your eyes catch his grin through the mirror.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

//————//————//————//————//

Peeta is an expert in the kitchen.

You’re not bad, but it’s obvious which one of you is better. You can’t really complain, anything Peeta makes you love. Maybe it’s because he grew up as a baker, maybe it’s because he puts care into everything he does, or maybe it’s just because you adore him.

You can’t say that it was a quiet morning; with constant chatter between you two, laughs, and kisses, it wasn’t at all quiet.

While your breakfast is in the pan, Peeta puts on a record containing music from your wedding. He sways with you, grinning at each other even when you're moving too slow for an upbeat song and too fast for a slow song.

“The little ones will be up soon.” You comment, seeing the time on the clock.

Peeta’s arms wrap around your waist, his head on your shoulder, still swaying slightly, “Good, I don’t want to have to reheat the food for them.”

It was a classic breakfast. Fluffy chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, bread, jam (that you made from your fruit garden), and of course the bowls of fruit that you had picked freshly this morning.

“We should go wake them up then.” You said

You felt Peeta’s nod as he pulled you up the stairs.

//————//————//————//————//

Your eldest slept peacefully. You almost felt bad waking him up.

You moved to open the curtains, letting the natural light into his bedroom. You saw him stir at the unfiltered light.

“Hey bud, it’s time to wake up.” Peeta whispered, gently shaking him.

Your seven year old clutched his deer stuffed-animal closer to his body.

You walked over, and sat on the edge so you could shake him.

“Rise and shine, honey.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Slowly but surely, his eyes slowly opened.

“Dad?” He noticed you next, “Mom….is it time to get up already.” He mumbled

Peeta chuckled softly, “Yeah bud, we’ve got the whole day ahead.”

Your son only yawns in response.

“We made breakfast.” You offer, and your son pauses.

“What kind of breakfast?” He asks

“Pancakes, bacon, bread, jam, the whole feast.” Peeta answers

“Okay.” He pushes back the covers and stretches once he stands.

He gives Peeta a hug and a kiss first, then you bend down so he can give you your dose of affection.

“Let’s go wake up your sister.” You say, following your son out of his bedroom door with Peeta close behind you.

Your seven year old shuffles with his stuffed animal still in his arms. Your daughter's room isn’t far so it doesn’t take long before you’re standing outside her bedroom door.

Your son does a short courtesy knock before he opens up the door.

Like your eldests room, the curtains are drawn and the room is mostly dark. Your son immediately goes to his sister's side while you make your way over to the curtains.

Like your son, your daughter scrunches her face when the light pours in. You laugh quietly at how similar they look.

Your son whispers his sister's name and shakes her a little roughly.

“Be a little gentler, bud.” Peeta advises

The boy listens and shakes her again.

Your daughter lets out a little whine at being woken up.

“It’s time to get up, there’s breakfast downstairs.” Your son says softly, gazing at his little sister with expectation while she tears up a bit at the idea of getting up.

“Good morning, honey.” You say, coming up beside your son, and kneeling down.

Peeta sits on the edge of the bed and gives your daughter a kiss on the forehead. You move some hair out of her face.

“Don’t wanna get up.” Your four year old cries.

“But how else are you gonna eat pancakes?” You ask, caressing her cheek affectionately. Internally, you coo at how precious she looks, even in her teary state. One glance at Peeta and you know he’s doing the same.

She looks at you in thought, obviously debating her options.

When she makes up her mind, she looks over at Peeta and raises her arms up, “Daddy!”

Peeta chuckles and effortlessly lifts her up into his arms.

“Let's go get your little brother up.” Peeta says softly to the two of them.

This time Peeta is the first out of the room with your daughter in his arms, then your son, and you right behind him.

When you were just outside of your youngests room, you see your daughter wiggle in Peeta’s arms, an obvious sign that she wanted down.

Your eldest, once again, gave a little knock on the bedroom door, and you even heard a happy giggle on the other side of the door.

“Come on, open it!” Your daughter urged her brother impatiently.

“I am!” He responded with a bit of frustration in his voice.

Peeta wrapped his arm around your waist and chuckled while you both watched them enter your youngests room.

Your one year old son was standing up in his crib with a happy smile on his face.

Your son and daughter ran over and said a chorus of good mornings.

You walked over and pulled your youngest out of his crib. Once you placed him on the ground he was given a couple hugs and kisses from his older siblings.

“Let’s go downstairs and eat bekfest!” Your daughter said, not quite pronouncing ‘breakfast’ correctly.

“Hold my hand.” Your eldest held out his free hand to his brother. But the younger just walked past him as if he didn’t say anything.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants to hold your hand right now, but you can hold mine!” You grinned teasingly, holding out your hand.

“I get to hold your hand all the time.” Your son dismissed already making his way towards his brother, ready to demand for him to hold his hand.

“I’ll hold your hand.” Peeta offered you, grinning as well.

“Who’s gonna hold my hand?” Your daughter cried, suddenly very distraught by the thought of no one holding her hand.

Peeta stooped down and picked her up with a little spin, causing her to giggle.

“I’ll hold you in one arm, and your mom’s hand in the other.” Peeta tickled her, drawing more giggles out of her.

“Sounds good to me.” You said walking over to the two blondes.

“Let us go down first mom and dad.” Your eldest told you, finally getting his brother to hold his hand.

“After you, bud.” Peeta encouraged, grabbing your hand and grinning at his daughter.

//————//————//————//————//

Breakfast was a blur of catering and attempted food fights. It only stopped when your seven year old declared he was going to get dressed and your daughter followed after him claiming that she wanted to get dressed too.

“I’d say that was a successful breakfast.” Peeta commented while eating a few pieces of fruit.

“I’m just glad they didn’t ask for cereal instead.” You laughed, taking the dirty dishes over to the sink. Since Peeta did most of the cooking you agreed to do most of the dishes.

“Mom!” Your daughter's voice cried

You were at the bottom of the stairs in a second, "What is it?” You questioned, scanning her for injuries.

“I can’t get this shirt on!” Her tiny lip wobbled from the top of the stairs, arms craned upward from where they were stuck in her shirt.

“Okay, I can help. Do you want my help?” Your shoulders relaxed at seeing her unharmed state.

Your daughter nodded.

“Everything okay?” Peeta asked, holding your youngest in his arms, the toddler nomming on a piece of fruit.

“Wardrobe malfunction.” You answered, climbing up the stairs.

Peeta nodded and went back into the kitchen.

“I don’t like this shirt.” Your daughter commented as you eased it off of her.

“You wanna pick out another one?” You asked, smoothing down the messy blonde hair on her head.

Your daughter nodded eagerly running towards bedroom, with renewed enthusiasm.

//————//————//————//————//

You’d admit that you weren’t originally the most ecstatic at the idea of building a sandbox. The idea of having to clean all the sand off of them still gives you chills. However, it keeps them entertained and happy so you decide it’s worth it.

You and your husband laid on a picnic blanket, Peeta’s back against a tree and you in his arms.

It had been decided that since you were already planning on spending most of the day outside, you might as well eat lunch outside, hence the picnic supplies.

Now, the picnic basket that’s used more than you could’ve ever imagined is closed, all its contents drained except for your water bottles.

With fall your flowers and trees were going dormant for the winter, and you were already brainstorming flowers to plant in the spring.

“I’m thinking of Marigolds.” You comment after internal debate.

“Those are pretty.” Peeta says while stroking your hair.

“Do you think the kids will want to plant some?” You ask, looking up at him.

Peeta shrugs, “I think they will, but you can ask.”

You let your gaze shift to the horizon and notice the sun going down.

“Should we bring them inside for dinner?” You ask quietly, as if any louder would disturb the peace.

“No. Let’s watch the sunset first.” He kisses your cheek.

//————//————//————//————//

To no one's surprise your children were quite hungry. They ate so quickly you were worried they were going to choke.

After they were done they were already exhausted, which made it quite the challenge to get them to take their baths.

Your daughter nearly fell asleep while you helped her change into her pajamas.

Then, before you could give her a single kiss she was out like a light, snuggling into her blankets.

Your sons waited patiently for their kisses. Though, you could see your youngest fighting sleep. Luckily, he wasn’t fighting for very long. After hugs and kisses from both of his parents he was out like his sister.

Your eldest was the last to be tucked in, enjoying his hugs and kisses while the three of you chatted a little bit about how the day went.

One thing is for sure, they will be well rested by tomorrow morning.

As soon as you quietly closed the door to your eldests room, Peeta pulled you into a hug.

He swayed the both of you lightly, making you want to fall asleep in his arms. You had done your own share of running around today.

He pulled back with a kiss on your cheek but didn't remove his arms.

"I love you." He said quietly.

"I love you too." You replied with no hesitation.

"Thank you." Peeta said, confusing you a little bit.

"For what?"

"For giving me a better life than I could've dreamed of, for allowing me to wake up next to you everyday, for loving me."

You kissed his cheek, "I couldn't not love you. I can't imagine another person who could make me as happy as you do, or make me feel as loved as you do." 

Peeta's smile was so big and full of emotion that it made your heart soar, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. No matter how short or long, I want to spend it with you."

"Well that's good because I also want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Peeta chuckled, "It's cute you think I'd ever let you go." He teased

"Just shut up and kiss me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

//————//————//————//————//

edited on 07/24/2024

In your defense, you have attempted to do as you said you would do, and find a more suitable coat than the one you would regularly wear—one that just might make the night go at least a little smoother, if it helps you feel composed. Your eyes have scanned every piece of clothing countless times. Almost all were picked by you; others were gifts from loved ones. Despite having loved them every time you’ve worn them, none feel good enough as your gaze lingers, your mind conjures up the nasty comments your mother-in-law never fails to make.

When his curly blonde hair enters your peripheral vision, you feign the act of straightening out non-existent wrinkles on the outfit you have agonized over the entire week leading up to this day. Despite your act, you’re cognizant of how he sees right through you and your poor performance. But it’s easier to pretend than it is to talk about your unease.

He approaches you cautiously. When he’s close enough for you to feel his body heat, he turns toward the closet before you can lose your resolve. After assessing the coats that he’s just as familiar with as you are, he easily plucks one off the rack. “How about this one?”

You take a glance at it, and your heart swells; it would certainly go well with your attire, and it’s one of your favorites, an intentional pick on his part, no doubt. You take it from him, meeting his eyes in thanks. His gaze is gentle, and yet you feel exposed. “You wanna talk about it?”

A moment goes by before you shake your head, moving your eyes away from him. He cups your cheek gently and guides your eyes back to his, looking at you with all the affection in the world.

“You don’t have to go.” He states softly, blue eyes filled with understanding.

You shake your head fervently, “Yes, I do—”

“No, you don’t. I am not going to force you to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.” He doesn’t need to tell you; you already know.

“I want to go.” You explain, but leave the unspoken “For you” to hang in the air.

His gaze and smile are filled with gratitude. His hand strokes your cheek soothingly; you don’t even realize you’re leaning into his palm, drawn in by his warmth. “I know my family is hard to deal with…” What he really means is he knows his mother is hard to deal with; were it just his father and brothers, you would be fine going to dinner, even happy to. Peeta’s family is pleasant so long as his mother is not around.

You try to cut in, “Peeta—”

“You don’t have to say anything, I know they are. Which is why I would never force you to spend any amount of time with them.” He says it so sincerely that you want to give in. To say “I don’t want to go” and kiss him goodbye, sit on the couch, watch a movie, and wait for him to get home.

But you also know you’d spend the entire time feeling guilty, even though you shouldn’t, because Peeta is right and you shouldn’t force yourself to deal with your mother-in-law. But you want to. Because even though Peeta’s mother is deplorable and makes time around his family dismal, they’re still his family, and despite everything he’s had to deal with, he cares for them. He cares for you, too, and you know he’d put himself in this position one hundred times over if it were your family, just to make you happy.

So you don’t give in, even though you really want to.

Your hand reaches up to cup the hand that is still cradling your cheek. You look him straight in the eye as you say, “I want to go to dinner with you tonight.”

Peeta scans your face. His face is conflicted, but in the end, he nods, “Okay.” he leans in, giving you a sweet kiss as if to say, “Thank you.”

//————//————//————//————//

Being in a relationship with Peeta has improved your punctuality; you never arrive too early or too late. It’s something that you deeply appreciate about him, and you’re glad it rubbed off on you.

Peeta carries a tote bag filled with the baked goods made specifically for tonight in one hand, and holds yours in the other. The sight of the tote bag fills you with merriment because it’s one you gifted him, and you’re always pleased to see him using it.

Before he knocks on the front door, he looks at you and smiles, “I’ll be right beside you the whole time. We can leave at any point, just say the word.” He whispers in your ear, giving you a peck on the cheek. You give his hand a grateful squeeze and nod.

It takes only a few moments after knocking on the door for his father to appear on the other side, and simple greetings are made. Peeta’s father is pretty easy to be around, even if he can be awkward sometimes. His father ushers the two of you into the house, and Peeta places your jacket and shoes at the sad coat rack next to the front door.

His childhood house is smaller than your shared home, despite it being only you and Peeta who live there. Everything in this house is noticeably old and worn out, which only adds to the dreary atmosphere. Your home has many old and worn-out things too, some thrifted, others simply loved by you for a long time, and some passed down from others. But the two of you have always felt like it makes your house more of a home, one filled with memories, meaning, and experiences. Here, it just makes it sad.

As you walk through the small hallway, you notice all the things that are clearly self-repaired and the cracks in the walls that make the house look even more depressing. Once again, your home has been subjected to many amateur projects, some of which definitely look the part, but even when you're unhappy with the results, you know that it was done with love. The sloppy handwork here looks like it was done with anger and detestation. The house around you makes you uneasy, your only comfort being Peeta’s hand.

Peeta

You turn your head towards the man you love, and your heart sinks. Your wonderful husband, who is kind and loving, had the misfortune to grow up in a house like this.

He turns his head at the feel of your gaze. Somehow, he has always been able to read your thoughts. A sad smile and a barely noticeable shrug are his way of saying, “It is what it is.”

You hold his hand a little tighter.

Peeta’s mother stands in the kitchen, handing plates to Peeta’s two older brothers to set them onto the table. She seems to always have a built-in look of irritation on her face, making it hard to approach her.

When she looks up, you feel a jolt go through your body. The woman’s look of irritation turns to a scowl. “Took you long enough.” She barks.

You glance at the nearest clock to find that it’s still a couple of minutes before the agreed-upon time.

“We weren’t expecting so much traffic,” Peeta says calmly, but less confident than usual, and it makes your heart hurt.

Peeta’s words don’t soften his mother's scowl as she sharply nods her head towards the small table, “You two can finish setting up.”

Her attitude isn’t surprising to either of you. You had been friends with Peeta in school and became a couple before graduating. You’ve had plenty of time to grow used to the less-than-hospitable nature of his mother. But it never stops the anger from building in your chest when she treats Peeta the way she does.

//————//————//————//————//

Dinner was... awkward, to say the least. A lot of jabs and outright degrading comments were made by Peeta’s mother towards everyone in attendance. Your father-in-law mostly kept quiet unless he was making small talk, and your brothers-in-law only made quiet chatter whenever their mother was not in the room.

You truly believe that the only reason the two of you were ever invited to dinner was because of the envelope with a check Peeta would give his father at the end of every visit. Peeta provides for them because he feels like he owes them for “raising” him.

You don’t argue, only because you know it makes him feel guilty not to give back to them. Probably because that’s how his mother raised him, feeling like he had to give up his hard-earned money to someone who had given him a miserable childhood. The money he gives is a portion of the money that he makes from his paintings, never asking or allowing you to give some of your money.

The car ride home is silent, unlike the one on the way there, which was filled with the usual casual conversation. Peeta is visibly tense, and you’re sure that you are too. But his hand, entwined with yours, isn’t harsh or unkind. When he pulls in front of your house and turns off the car, the two of you just sit there for a moment in the dark. You rub what you hope are soothing circles on the back of his hand. When he releases a deep breath, you’re relieved to know that you’re helping, even if just a little.

“I don’t think I can do this forever.” He mutters dejectedly and maybe with regret.

You nod understandingly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, “And you don’t have to.”

“Then, why do I feel like I do?” He turns his head towards you, his eyes glazed over in tears.

“Because you care for them…because despite everything you’ve had to deal with, you give them the benefit of the doubt.” Your lips purse, but look at him gently, hoping he sees the fondness you hold for him in your eyes.

“I keep thinking it’ll change, that it will get better.” He shakes his head, “Then, I see how my mother talks to you and I…” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

You squeeze his hand and shake your head, “You don’t need to worry about me—“

“I do need to worry about you!” Peeta cut in with an uncharacteristically loud voice, “You’re the love of my life, and my own mother treats you horribly! And—and I let her!”

You think back to tonight’s dinner. How Peeta defended you from every comment, praised you for your achievements, and redirected any conversation his mother tried to start with you, “You don’t let them.” You brush a couple of stray hairs from his face.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He shakes his head, “I won’t let you deal with this anymore.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “What are you talking about, Peeta?”

“The next time they ask us over for dinner, I’ll send the check in the mail. They’ll get the hint.” He says with a sad tone.

“Oh, baby…” You aren’t sure what to say.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop seeing them entirely. I know my father and my brothers are not the problem, but I’m not sure I will ever be able to see all of them at once without her there too. Some time away and some space will be good for me.” He looks at you again, but this time he smiles a little. “I think it’ll be good for us.”

You’re close to crying yourself.

“I meant what I said on our wedding day, you’re the most important person to me, and I promised to put you above everyone else.” His unoccupied hand wipes away a tear from your cheek.

You lean in and rest your forehead against his, taking in his words and proximity. You know how hard this is for him. How hard it’s always been.

“I’m proud of you.” You whisper solemly.

Peeta’s eyes meet yours, and he kisses you. A sweet, meaningful kiss, like many you have had before, and yet still special in its own way.

Peeta is the first to speak, “Let’s go inside, I want to have a real dinner with my wife.”

//————//————//————//————//

“Thank you for coming with me today. I don’t think I ever would’ve found the strength to finally prioritize myself…without you.” Peeta murmurs against the crown of your head.

Your head rests upon your husband's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, with one of your hands spread across his stomach, fingers laced with his.

“I love you.” Is your explanation.

You feel his lips curl up into a smile, “I love you too.”

//————//————//————//————//

Remus was always physically and mentally drained as his body was preparing him for the transformation. His body would ache. Some months could be much more painful than others. He was almost always tired, unable to sleep more than three hours if he was lucky. He was normally restless and tended to bounce his knee, chew on his nails or lip, and fidget with things around him.

Some months, he was angrier than anything; others, he was more depressed. A week before the full moon was the earliest these side effects occurred. It might start earlier in the week, or in the middle, or at the latest, a couple of days before.

Walking into the great hall, your eyes immediately searched for your love. Upon seeing him, you examined his posture and believed you knew what type of day today would be.

When you got closer, you saw James piling some of Remus’ favorite foods on the plate in front of him. Your boyfriend had his hands covering his ears. You believed this to be a subconscious movement to keep out all the noise of the great hall.

James noticed you first, sending you a grateful smile as you sat next to Remus. Far enough to not startle him, but close enough so that he could sense your presence.

“Hey, honey.” You said softly to alert him that it was you beside him, but not too quietly that he couldn’t hear you.

You didn’t hear what he mumbled, but you took it as a greeting. You gently placed your hand on his back and rubbed it in the hope of easing his tension.

Remus was always distant at first; the insecurities plagued his mind. You just needed to be consistent and slowly move towards him.

In the beginning, you sat awkwardly next to him. James chatted with Sirius as the black haired boy played wizard's chess with Peter. James continued to stuff more food on Remus’ plate, doing his best to encourage him to eat.

Soon enough, Remus allowed himself to find comfort in your presence and ate a few bites of the food James had given him. It wasn’t enough, but you knew he was trying.

Sirius slammed his hands on the table in frustration from the loss of the chess match. Remus jumped slightly, which earned Sirius a glare from you.

“Sorry, Moons.” He sounded genuinely sorry, so you let it go.

Remus just snuggled further into you, taking deeper breaths in an attempt to calm himself. The position the two of you were in was odd to the eye, but it was the best and most comfortable you could do at the grand tables.

Soon, the owls entered, dropping packages and hooting loudly. Two packages that were nearly the same in size and shape landed in front of James and Sirius.

The two of them grinned and picked up their packages in unison. If you weren’t so worried about Remus, you would’ve laughed at how similar James and Sirius’ movements were.

“Gifts from Effie.” Sirius grinned at your questioning gaze.

You watched curiously as James and Sirius opened the packages. They both pulled out a delicately wrapped box of sweets and a pouch of coins.

“For the upcoming Hogsmeade trip,” Sirius said absent-mindedly, he gave Remus a sympathetic look, knowing that the full moon was this weekend.

“Come on, let’s go back to our dorm,” James said, after he placed the items back into his own box.

You nodded and rubbed the back of Remus’ neck before whispering James’ words to Remus.

He nodded and stood up, swaying slightly. You were quick to grab his hand and walk with him out of the great hall. You tried to persuade him into leaning on you, but he was still well aware that if he were to fall, he would crush you.

Thankfully, Peter was on Remus’s other side, helping to support some of his weight. While Sirius hung behind, James led.

You saw his shoulders visibly relax when you were far enough away from the noise that was the great hall.

//————//————//————//————//

“Under the cloak you go,” James said, throwing his invisibility cloak over you and Remus.

If someone were to see you going into the Marauders’ dorms, talk would arise, and it wouldn’t be good for any of you.

When in their dorm, Remus subconsciously moved towards his bed and flopped down as if he had worked tirelessly all day long, even though it wasn't even noon.

You sat on the edge of his bed. Remus, sensing your proximity, moved so that his head lay in your lap.

All the marauders kept glancing at Remus in worry. James the most. So it wasn’t a shock when the boy spoke up, “He should stay in the dorm today.”

You nodded in agreement, “I’m gonna stay too.”

“You sure?” It was Sirius who asked the question.

“One of us could stay with him.” Peter offered quietly.

You shook your head, sending them off to class with a murmur of thanks.

Looking down, you noticed Remus had fallen asleep. You smiled weakly, knowing that around these times, he got all his sleep from naps.

//————//————//————//————//

Hours later, you were awoken from the firm grip on your thighs. Remus’s head was shaking, his eyes scrunched up, and he was sweating.

You caressed his face, trying to comfort him, and it seemed to make him relax a little.

“Remus.” You called gently, shaking him awake.

It took him a few minutes to come to terms with where he was.

“What time is it?” He croaked.

You glanced around for a clock before noticing the Muggle watch meant for children that you had bought for James last year as a gag gift. You squinted, trying to make out the time.

“About two hours past noon.” You answered, trying to relieve the tension in your back and shoulders without disturbing Remus.

Remus groaned in annoyance, not at you, but the situation. He moved to try to get up, but the hand you placed on his back easily convinced him to give up and continue to lie down.

“You should try to get some more sleep.” You said, pushing the strands of hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead away from his face.

“No use.” He answered, and your heart aches for him.

“I could start you a bath.” You moved to gently lift Remus’ head from your lap, but he halted you with a grab of your wrist.

“Don’t leave.” He whined uncharacteristically, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m just gonna run a bath for you so you don’t have to sleep in your own sweat.” You tried.

“I don’t care,” Remus pleaded.

You effectively placed Remus’ head into the bed despite his protests.

You were more concerned when he moved to sit up. Even in pain, he moved fast, so you couldn’t stop him.

He delicately wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his forehead against your stomach. Despite having his arms around you, you could barely feel him. You knew he was denying the want of tightening his hold on you, afraid of being seen as selfish.

You moved for him, pressing his arms around you tighter, and moved closer to him so he could bury his face in your stomach.

“You’re allowed to want things, Rem. All you have to do is ask me.” You said, rubbing up and down the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to leave me.” It didn’t take long for you to know he meant more of a break-up sense than a physical sense.

“I’m not going to, my love.” The sound of your endearment caused a small cry from his lips, worrying you further.

“I hate it so much.”

You couldn’t even imagine all the pain and suffering Remus had to constantly go through.

“I know. Is there anything more I can do to help?” You asked softly.

“Just be here.” He answered quietly.

“Okay, I promise I’ll be here for you.” You assured him.

//————//————//————//————//

Eight Years later

“Don’t fuss, Cariad, it’s not that big, I swear.” Remus chuckled painfully, watching you tend to a wound on his stomach.

“It’s bigger than I’d like.” You mumble.

“It was quite an angry moose, but I would rather a wound from him than my own claws,” Remus said casually.

You froze for a moment, then picked back up where you left off, not sure how or if you should respond to that.

Remus’s hiss stopped you from falling into a rabbit hole of negative thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” You said absent-mindedly.

“That’s enough cleaning, don’t you think, love?”

“Just a little more.” You promised.

When Remus was all bandaged and done, he hummed gratefully.

“So,” He began, resting his hands on your hips as you disposed of the bloody cloths. “How should I repay you for taking such good care of me?”

You hummed, acting as if you were in deep thought, “A kiss or two should be enough payment for me.”

Remus chuckled, “Have I not given you enough kisses today?”

You shook your head, “You never do.”

The man scoffed teasingly, “I thought I gave you a healthy amount, but it seems I've begun to spoil you.”

“Your fault.” You said affectionately, leaning down while making sure not to touch a wound.

One kiss. Two kisses. Three kisses.

He hummed, pressing one kiss to your cheek, “I thought my payment was two kisses.”

“I changed my mind.” You smiled, resting your forehead against his.

“My silly women.” He caressed your cheek.

“Sorry, Rem. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good, then I shall die the happiest man.”

//————//————//————//————//