Pl Please and thank you, if not please ignore this. A request for Hiccup x reader, it can be placed in the first movie when there is the training against dragons, specifically the scene of Astrid scolding Hiccup with that dialogue "....our parents' fight will become ours" and reader defends him, reader (she does not understand dragons but she respects them and is interested in them but only she knows that), and defends Hiccup verbally to Astrid, just a small discussion, from then on Hiccup is interested in reader because she defended him and because reader is not afraid of dragons in the training, which is strange because she never attacks him directly but it is like driving away a beast and generates interest in him.
THE GUARDIAN ANGEL
pairings « hiccup haddock x f! reader »
✎ When you quietly hold your ground during dragon training—never striking first, only observing—Hiccup takes notice. You're the only one who treats dragons with a strange, distance, and when you defend him during a heated clash with Astrid, he starts to wonder if he’s not as alone in his thinking as he thought.
【warnings; none】
Ash clung to the air, dense as flour, stirred by each step across the rugged ground. A fine coat of soot blanketed the arena like dust on forgotten parchment, and the scent—smoke, scorched rope, and something faintly sulfuric—settled stubbornly in your clothes. The roof above, a precarious structure of chains and stone designed with a singular purpose: to imprison dragons, and prevent their flight, groaned and clanged against one another as the deep wind swept through the cavernous space.
Gobber’s voice bellowed through the dusted air: “Today, we teach you how to not die! Keep your limbs, keep your pride, and maybe—maybe—you’ll live to see dinner!”
You tightened your grasp on the leather strap of your borrowed shield with rigid edges. It smelled like someone else's sweat and fire—ripe, acrid, and unmistakably used. Have you not any shame, oh, how you wished you could pinch your nose without looking like a complete amateur. After Gobber’s ‘I believe in learning the job’ you’d completely lost hope in finishing the academy training with the Deadly Nadder tailing your butts to destroy you with its spontaneous bursts of poisonous spines wherever it could fly. At least he had the time to explain that shields matter more than a sword.
“hey–Hey, you know I just happened to notice the book had nothing to do with night furies.” You hear a cranky voice just a wall behind you, assuming it was Hiccup, likely addressing Gobber. A Before you could react, a sudden burst of fire struck the wall—a Nadder’s blast—searing through the wooden wall and lighting up the space. The impact revealed your silhouette, exposed and clearly visible through the scorched gap.
“Today, it’s all about attack! Now get ye’ lots and butts movin’.”
You took off running, swatting at the small flames that clung to your clothes. Heat nipped at your sleeves as you pushed forward, doing everything you could to stay ahead of the Nadder. Sharp talons scraped against the wood behind you, and you heard the distinct whir of spines being fired. You ducked instinctively, heart pounding.
“Nadders are quick and light on their feet.” Gobber peeked from above. “Your job is to be quicker and lighter”
Easier said than done.
Turning a corner too fast, —only to slam into Fishlegs with full force. The impact sent both of you staggering, arms pinwheeling for balance, but managed to regain balance just in time. You managed to stay in your feet, just as a cluster of razor-sharp Nadder spikes thudded into your shield with a metallic crack. Others peppered the ground where you had stood seconds ago.
You would’ve been at peace if Gobber hadn’t insisted on training you, calling you a “wee lamb” that needed to transform into a “goat.” You’d been sleeping soundly, deep in the comfort of your blankets, your body relaxed and still. The world outside had faded away, the early morning stillness wrapping around you like a warm, quiet cocoon. Then, next thing you know your legs were up and high, snatched by his prosthetic hook.
“I’m really beginning to start questioning your teaching methods.” “So do I!”
You sprinted ahead, putting more distance between yourself and Fishlegs, hoping to draw the Nadder's attention elsewhere. The dragon’s growls echoed in your ears, but you kept your focus on the creature's movements, looking for any sign of weakness, any gap in its defense. You had to figure out its blind spot.
Ahead, you spotted Astrid and Snotlout, their bodies low to the ground sneaking away from the spined dragon. They were working their way around the Nadder, trying to avoid being noticed. Just as you were about to make your move, Hiccup arrived, his figure appearing in the distance.
Astrid glanced over at him, quickly waving for him to crouch. “Get down,” she murmured, the command almost sounding like a scold. Hiccup, however, was still going on about the Night Fury, oblivious to the urgency around him. Astrid peeked her head over the edge, her eyes scanning the Nadder’s movements, watching for any sign that it had walked away from their direction. Once the coast was clear, Astrid moved quickly, rolling her body to the other wall alongside Snotlout and you.
Behind you, Hiccup tried to follow suit, but he wasn’t as quick. As he rolled, the weight of his shield caught the ground, sending a sharp scrape through the air that made everyone flinch. His eyes widened in mild panic as he scrambled to regain his balance.
The sound didn’t go unnoticed. The Nadder, its eyes scanning the area, whipped its head toward the noise, its focus shifting immediately from you to the others. In an instant, it let out a ferocious screech and surged upward.
“Don’t worry, babe, I got this.” Snotlout’s voice was as confident as ever, though you couldn’t quite tell if he was talking to you or Astrid––not that it made a difference. His grin was wide, almost too wide, as he swung his mace, aiming for the Nadder with all the flair of a showman.
But the moment the mace left his hand, it veered off course, flying wide and completely missing the dragon. It sailed past the dragon’s side. Way past. The Nadder didn’t even flinch as it soared past, instead charging straight toward them, its eyes locked on the three of you.
You turned to him, unimpressed, giving him a long, deadpan stare. “Really?”
He blinked, then raised a hand as if that explained everything. “The sun was in my eyes, [Name].” Before you could even reply, the Nadder reared back and spewed a burst of fire. “What do you want me to do? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don’t have time right now.”
Hiccup stood in place, still distracted, flipping through the pages of the dragon manual and pointing out something to Gobber. “They probably took the daytime off, right? Like a cat—’”
“Hiccup!” you barked, but he didn’t take notice. The Nadder roared and charged again, this time lunging straight for Astrid.
“Hiccup!” Gobber called out
“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted too, her voice laced with both panic and fury. She sprinted across the shaky remains of the training structure, the Nadder crashing after her, claws tearing into the wood as it climbed with terrifying speed. You watched from below, tense, trying to find an opening to help—but everything was collapsing too fast.
“Look out!” you yelled.
She lost balance and fell—straight onto Hiccup, knocking them both to the ground with a heavy thud. The air left his lungs in a wheeze, but the worst of it wasn’t the impact—it was the sharp clang that followed. Astrid’s axe, still tightly gripped in her hand during the fall, drove straight into the rim of Hiccup’s shield. The metal bit into the wooden frame and lodged itself deep, the two now stuck together awkwardly.
“Ooh, love on the battlefield,” Tuffnut snickered, elbowing his sister as he peeked over the edge of a half-crushed platform.
“She could do better.”
You wanted to help, but the Nadder was almost free from the stacked pile of wood, its claws scraping against the debris as it struggled to get out. Every second counted.
"Let—let me... why don’t you—?" Hiccup stammered, trying to talk to Astrid, taking off her hand from squishing his face. He was still holding onto his shield, clearly trying to make sense of the chaos, but Astrid wasn't having it. She leaped forward, eyes locked on the Nadder, now fully freed from the pile of wreckage. Panic surged through her, and she pushed her foot onto Hiccup’s face with an unceremonious shove, yanking the axe from his shield with a sharp jerk.
Before Hiccup could react, Astrid was already swinging the axe, driving it into the Nadder’s advancing form. The force of the blow knocked the dragon back, sending it reeling. The sheer power in her movement was enough to force the Nadder to hesitate, if only for a moment, as it tried to regain its footing.
Ignoring your weapon, you threw it aside, the clatter barely registering as you focused entirely on the dragon. You rushed forward at the same time, your own fists raised, staying close to Astrid as the Nadder snarled, its fiery eyes narrowing. The tension in the air was palpable, the ground would be shaking with each step the dragon took if it didn’t have light feet.
You stepped forward, standing firm in the Nadder's path, trying to get its attention. No weapons. Just your instincts. You weren't going to fight this dragon with blades; you had to be smarter.
"Hey, hey!" you called, voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding your system. The Nadder’s head swung toward you, its eyes narrowing.
The dragon was close now, its massive, scaly head turning toward you, its nostrils flaring as it caught your scent. You raised your arms, palms open, trying to appear larger, more intimidating. You shouted, not out of fear, but to be heard above the mess.
“Get away from them!”
The Nadder snarled in response, its tail flicking to the side as if it might strike you. But you didn’t flinch. You couldn’t afford to. In a matter of speaking, you weren’t exactly the type to fight dragons. They intrigued you—fascinated you in a way that made it hard to see them as mere enemies. You weren’t one to simply engage in a battle with something you didn’t understand, especially when their behavior wasn’t entirely rooted in malice.
You knew this was a high-risk situation, but you weren’t about to make things worse by provoking it further. Your eyes stayed locked on the Nadder as you slowly approached, hands up, keeping your posture calm and open. The dragon’s fiery gaze met yours, and for a split second, it seemed to hesitate, assessing you, its growls softening.
This wasn’t a fight—it was a standoff. And you weren’t going to fight if you didn’t have to.
Hiccup was still laying down to the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he watched the scene unfold. The Nadder was on the offensive, its spines raised, ready to strike. The rest of the group was scrambling, trying to keep the dragon at bay with their weapons, but you... you weren’t doing what everyone else was.
A few tense moments passed. Then, with an almost reluctant grunt, the Nadder turned, its body coiling as it began to retreat, its fiery breath dissipating into the air.
You stood still, watching it leave. Only when it had fully backed off did you allow yourself to exhale, the adrenaline of the encounter still buzzing in your chest.
"You didn’t even use your weapon," Astrid said, her voice sounding a bit more incredulous than usual as she caught up with you. Her eyes were still wide, likely processing what had just happened.
Gobber, who had been watching the whole exchange from the sidelines, let out a low whistle of approval. "Well done, Astrid and [Name]." His gravelly voice was full of respect, and that made you feel a little less on edge.
Just as you were about to pat Astrid on her shoulder, however, her focus changed—badly—to Hiccup. Her eyes burned with frustration, the fire in them hard to ignore. “Is this some kind of a joke to you?” she spat, her fists clenched at her sides. “Our parents' war is about to become ours! Figure out which side you’re on.”
Hiccup shrank back slightly, fiddling with the strap of his tunic, his voice faltering. “I was just—”
“No, you weren’t,” Astrid interrupted, her voice sharp, her eyes narrowing as she stared down at him. “You never fight back. What happens when that hesitation gets one of us burned alive, huh? What if it’s me? Or him?” She jabbed her finger toward Snotlout, who looked momentarily offended, furrowing his brow at the gesture.
“Hey, hey, calm down, Astrid. Leave him alone.”
Hiccup looked up, surprised. The words weren’t directed at him—they were directed at Astrid, but somehow, they wrapped around him like a shield. You gave him a hand and helped him get up. His breath caught in his throat as you stepped forward, standing between them with an easy, almost casual determination. You were standing up for him. He wasn’t used to that, especially not from someone who he had never tried to make a conversation with. Now, you and Hiccup weren’t close, nor were you friends. but something about the situation made you act.
Astrid whipped her head toward you, her frustration evident in the tight line of her mouth, though now there was a flicker of confusion mixed in with the anger. “What? You’re going to defend him now?”
You nodded, standing your ground. “He’s trying to figure things out, Astrid. You don’t have to push him this hard. We’re all under pressure, but that doesn’t mean you get to tear each other apart.”
“And it’s not like we asked the Gods to give the responsibility of our parents to us,” you said, your voice a little more strained than you intended. Hiccup looked up at you, his brow furrowed, his hands still clasped tightly in front of him. He hadn’t expected that response. Neither had you. It just slipped out.
“Eh, she’s got a point there, lass.”
Astrid’s eyes flicked to you, her jaw tight. But she didn’t say anything. With a sharp exhale through her nose, she turned on her heel and walked off, boots striking the ground with clipped steps. The others followed in silence—Snotlout tossing a last glance back, Fishlegs adjusting his belt awkwardly, Ruff and Tuff muttering to each other but keeping close behind.
None of them looked at Hiccup.
Only Astrid’s shoulders stayed tense as she disappeared around the corner of the training paddock. Her anger wasn’t aimed at you—you could feel it in the way she hadn’t met your eyes. It was Hiccup she couldn’t even look at.
You didn’t stay behind like usual. Not today. You threw your gear over your shoulder, kept your head down, and started walking away—off the academy grounds, past the watchtower, and down the slope that led toward the cliffs. You thought of catching some fresh air in the woods, they normally have great scent due to the petrichor after raining.
“Hey—wait, [Name]!”
You slowed slightly but didn’t turn. You could hear him fumbling behind you. The voice was familiar—uncertain, hurried—but you’d recognize Hiccup’s anywhere, nervous, a little hoarse and scrawny like the cry of a newborn yak. You heard his boots scuff as he jogged to catch up, the unevenness of his steps telling you he wasn’t used to chasing people down. His voice always sounded a little too big for him, like he’d borrowed it from someone braver.
He reached your side, a little out of breath, one hand holding the strap of his satchel as if it might anchor him. “You—uh—you left kind of fast.”
“Food won’t wait for me,” you said, not breaking stride. The excuse slipped out easily, but it was a half-truth at best.
Hiccup hesitated, looking ahead before speaking again. “Why... why did you defend me?” Hiccup finally asked. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to hear the answer. Part of him thought he didn’t deserve it—he hadn’t earned it. He’d been a disappointment to so many already.
You glanced at your back. His expression wasn’t angry or accusatory—just... confused. Tentative. Like someone standing on a frozen lake, unsure how thick the ice really was.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “Back there… with Astrid. I mean, she wasn’t wrong. I mess things up. All the time.” There wasn’t self-pity in his voice—at least not the performative kind. It was just fact, spoken plainly. Like he’d memorized that line after hearing it too often.
“Don’t think of yourself badly, Hiccup.” Hiccup looked down, brow furrowed. He kicked at a pebble near his foot, watched it skip across the path.
“You’re brave,” you added, your voice softer now. “Not in the way people like Astrid think of it. But in your own way. The kind that matters.”
He blinked. For a moment, he didn’t seem to know what to do with your words. Then he laughed under his breath—a short, awkward sound, more surprised than amused.
“I don’t feel very brave,” he murmured.
“Most brave people don’t,” you replied.
“Thanks,” he said finally, quietly. “For saying that. For... being there.”
From that evening on, Hiccup started sticking closer than ever, almost as if he’s your second shadow.
At first, it was subtle. He'd show up early to group meetings, always managing to sit beside you even when the others rearranged themselves chaotically. He'd offer to carry an extra pack, pass you a flask of water without asking, or stand just a step behind you when tensions with the others ran high—as if your presence somehow steadied him.
Then it became impossible not to notice.
You’d turn a corner in the stables and there he’d be, scribbling in his sketchbook but glancing up the moment your heels hit the stone floor. He trailed you during patrol shifts under the pretense of wanting “extra field experience,” and at mealtime, his tray would somehow always end up across from yours. You never called him out on it. You didn’t need to. And strangely enough, you didn’t mind.
Whenever you were out in the field, testing your own methods—fast, unorthodox, bordering on reckless—Hiccup’s eyes never left you. Not once. While the others braced for dragon fire or fumbled with their shields, he’d be watching you, his gaze locked in quiet awe, trying to memorize the way you moved, how you timed your shifts between evasion and precision, like you were dancing with danger rather than dodging it.
You called him out the third time it happened.
“You’re gonna get torched if you keep staring like that,” you snapped, yanking him behind cover after a Nadder’s blast barely missed his leg. “Keep your eyes on the dragon, not on me.”
At first, the others teased him for it. Snotlout made howling noises every time Hiccup moved to follow you, and Ruffnut started keeping an imaginary tally—“That’s ten sightings today, folks. At this rate, he’ll be part of [Name]’s shadow by next week.” But Hiccup didn’t rise to it. He didn’t deny it, didn’t make excuses. He just gave them that sheepish smile of his and kept doing what he was doing.
