✎ When you help nurse Toothless back to health after an unexpected illness, the Night Fury grows protective of you. Hiccup is surprised by the dragon’s sudden attachment—and even more surprised when Toothless starts shadowing your every move and nudging you toward his rider.
【warnings; none, second hand embarrassment if you care enough.】
They say dragons were once fearsome beasts, horrifying beings of terror who reveled in the suffering of vikings. With their hooked fangs, which set them apart from the common order of nature, breaking the harmony of the world. They would sink their jagged teeth into the skin and gnaw upon the bones of unsuspecting men, dragging their broken bodies to nests forged in the heart of molten rocks built in the high sky.
These creatures, capable of soaring across the heavens with wings that defied reason—vast and powerful—could span the heavens, forcefully ruled the skies with an iron grip, a terror unmatched by any other force. Berk, the beast of the archipelago, stood as a testament to the fragility of peace amidst a history of unyielding strife. A land carved by scars, scarred by the ceaseless struggle between its people and the creatures they dubbed “monsters.” told this story that had echoed for seven long generations, a tale of ceaseless strife and bitter hatred.
But it took seven generations. Seven long generations of struggle, sacrifice, and transformation for Berk to heal. The land had changed for the better—No longer did the people cower beneath the shadow of these mighty creatures.
A misunderstood child who knew no war was the reason to hit them with the realization that dragons weren’t vicious beasts whose sole purpose in life was to spread fear, but a gentle creature who were curious just as the people. They had learned, through years of conflict and understanding, to bend the essence of their deepest fears into something stronger—a bond forged in the crucible of mutual respect. Where there was once hatred, there now stood the beginnings of trust.
The villagers, who once spent sleepless nights bolting their doors and sharpening their weapons in anticipation of the next raid, now spent their days working alongside the very creatures that had once been their enemies, now companions in the sky, and partners in the pursuit of new horizons.
While the majority of the villagers had forged unbreakable bonds with their dragons, they wore their titles with pride—Riders, they were called, as though it were a crown, you stood apart. You were not one of them, you never will. You were not one who yearned the heights or the thrill of the wind in your hair as you perched atop a Nadder’s sharp-spined back or to cut through the depths of the sea with a sleek Tidal-class dragon beneath your orders. Your feet remained firmly planted on the ground—and truth be told, you didn’t mind.
It wasn’t just your fear of heights, though that certainly played a part. The idea of being thousands of feet in the air with only leathery wings and blind faith keeping you aloft made your stomach churn. While others saw dragons as mounts, instruments of power and glory to be ridden into the heavens. You became attuned to their every movement, their subtle shifts and nuanced gestures.
Over time, you learned how to read them — the way their wings twitched when they were agitated or how they softly curled their tails when they felt safe. You understood that a dragon’s body spoke volumes, even when they couldn’t. Noticing the shift in their posture, how their eyes softened when they trusted you, or how their breath would quicken if something was amiss.
You preferred to nurse them, to soothe their wounds with a gentle touch, offering comfort where others might only offer a quick, dismissive pat. Others would offer praise with the calloused palms of their hands, clapping a dragon’s back after a triumphant hunt, their actions rough like the bark of an old tree—kind in their own way but lacking the softness that true care requires.
That was the way you had always handled things in old Berk. Thankfully, no dragon has yet to be injured on the new island.
Then Toothless fell ill.
"[Name]! Oh, thank Thor’s maidens you're here," Hiccup called out to you, his voice strained, a clear edge of panic curling the words. His eyes flicked back and forth, darting between you and the frantic Night Fury pacing erratically across the room. Toothless' wings twitched uncontrollably, the delicate membranes brushing against shelves, knocking over bottles made of stone and glass, the contents spilling in chaotic arcs across the floor. Toothless’s eyes were wide, pupils tiny pinpricks of frantic energy. His mouth snapped open and shut, his sharp teeth glinting as if trying to convey something that couldn’t be expressed.
You’d seen Toothless angry, playful, even fearful before, but this was something else entirely. This was distress. What could have made such a strong dragon like the Night Fury become so distressed? What could he convey with his actions and movement that left no process of communicating plainly?
You’re bound to make a promise to figure out why Toothless was like this and help him if you could.
You turned, wiping your hands against the fabric of your cotton-sewn tunic, the remnants of purple crushed herbs leaving faint streaks on the cloth. The scent of the mixture still lingered on your fingertips, bitter and sharp, along with the sweet scent of wet flowers that hung in the unfinished hooked wooden roof.
As you looked up, your gaze met Hiccup’s. He was standing in the doorway, looking like a newborn yak with an amputee—his breathing labored as though he had just run a great distance of a race. Hiccup’s hair appeared matted and his eyes looked restless as they were doubtful. His chest was rising and sinking almost melodically. His face was pale, and his eyes were just as wide as his dragon’s, filled with that mix of concern and urgency you’d seen only in moments of true danger.
"Toothless?" You called softly, taking a careful step forward while trying to be calm, taking hold despite the growing worry in the pit of your stomach after seeing the dragon’s current state. He was scared. Toothless, although startled by your almost fretful tone, did not pay attention to you and continued with his line of thought oblivious to your attempt to soothe him down the situation. His ears flattened back at the sound of your voice, but his movements didn’t slow. In fact, he seemed more erratic now, each step heavier than the last, each twitch more desperate than what came before.
“What happe–”
His words tumbled out in a rushed whisper. "I-I don't know what's happening. One minute, he was fine, and the next... this." Hiccup gestured helplessly toward Toothless, who continued to pace, his wings stiffening and shaking. Toothless growled lowly, his body tense and rigid as he backed into a corner, his breathing uneven and labored. Every attempt to approach him resulted in a defensive response—his ears folded back, tail lashing sharply, and a clear warning in his posture that he felt threatened despite the familiar presence of his two trusted people.
Hiccup took a quick step toward you, avoiding Toothless in case it was to ensure that he remained calm, dragging a hand through his unkempt hair, his fingers gripping at the strands as he exhaled sharply,
“Something is wrong. He’s been like this for nearly an hour now,” the young Viking explained, his tone quieter but no less urgent than before. “It started after he accidentally swallowed a yellow eel. He fell ill almost immediately—developed a high fever, I think, then he became noticeably weak, and…” Hiccup’s body was taut, every muscle in him was bracing for the worst. His eyes darted to Toothless, but his dragon refused to meet his gaze, his pupils slit, with his body sinking lower to the ground, curling into himself, trying to make himself smaller in the face of whatever pain was coursing through him.
Toothless’s breathing was shallow, his sides heaving slightly as he fought to stay still, to hide the tremors that racked his frame. Hiccup took a cautious step forward, but Toothless flinched at the movement, lowering his head as if to shield himself. “He refuses to let anyone near him. Not even me,” Hiccup finished, the last words a quiet confession that only deepened the worry on his face.
“Won’t even let me close,” Hiccup whispered, his hand hovering just over Toothless’ back but never touching.
“Please, [Name], help him.”
His voice was flat, but his expression said more than words could. He didn’t fidget, didn’t avert his gaze. You nodded once, not out of reassurance but acknowledgment, and moved past him. His red tunic smelled faintly of iron and damp leather, his sleeve brushing yours like paper worn thin.
Toothless was lying near the hearth, his body tense. His wings were pulled in close. His claws scraped lightly against the floor, his movements uneven and sluggish. His head remained low, eyes dull, unfocused. There was no protest, no attempt to move away.
You crouched beside him and opened your satchel. The supplies were still warm from being near the fire—clean cloths, crushed herbs, a sealed vial. Your fingers moved without hesitation, but your eyes scanned every detail of Toothless’s condition. His breathing was irregular. His tail had a slight swish, and the skin around his jaw looked strained. Whatever had happened to him, it was already spreading.
“I’ll do what I can,” you said.
You didn’t wait for thanks. There was no time.
The fire had burned low, its glow reduced to a warm shimmer beneath the stones, casting gentle light over the room’s stillness. You knelt beside Toothless, your hands steady as they hovered near his flank, gauging the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. The fever that had held him in its grip for so long had finally broken during the night, and now, for the first time in what felt like hours stretched into days, there was calm in the air.
He started to blink slowly. His head turned slightly toward you, his nostrils flaring with a soft, measured breath. His tail, which had remained curled protectively around his body during the worst of his illness, loosened and stretched faintly across the wooden floor. His throat rumbled with a sound so quiet you almost missed it—a low, cautious greeting, like a voice forgotten, then remembered.
You inhaled deeply, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders all at once
“He’s responding,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.
Across the room, Hiccup sat in a slump against the wall, his body slack from the exhaustion of too many sleepless hours. The blanket draped haphazardly over his legs had slipped to one side, revealing a tunic stained with soot and worry. His head, tilted at an uncomfortable angle, rested against the beam behind him. Even in sleep, his brows twitched with unease, his jaw faintly clenched—seeming as if he didn’t quite trust peace to last.
Toothless raised his weight, testing the strength in his limbs. He paused once, winced slightly, then adjusted his stance. The tremors that had racked his body earlier were gone, replaced by deliberate, if cautious, movement. His wings stretched, not in full flight, but enough to show that he could. It wasn’t strength, not yet—but it was progress. More than you had dared hope for yesterday.
Then, with surprising care, he began to walk. Each step was certainly slow, the soft pads of his feet brushing against the floor with faint thumps. He crossed the room without hesitation, his eyes never leaving the boy in the corner. When he reached him, Toothless lowered his head, pressing his snout gently against Hiccup’s arm. A quiet, purposeful sound left his throat—not loud, not demanding, but enough.
Hiccup stirred. His eyes opened blearily, and for a second, he looked confused, as if his mind hadn’t yet caught up to what was happening. Then his gaze focused on the dragon in front of him, and everything else fell away.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice hoarse and raw. He leaned forward, one hand lifting to rest on Toothless’s head, the contact hesitant at first, then grounding.
Toothless nudged him again, a bit firmer, with a breath that seemed almost like a sigh.
You let them have their moment.
It started the moment you stepped outside.
You didn’t say anything at first—you assumed Toothless was just being clingy, the way most dragons acted after being healed. A little spoiled, maybe. Like a puppy demanding belly rubs and scratches behind the ears. You’d seen it plenty of times before.
But then he didn’t just nudge at your hand for attention.
He got closer. Much closer.
Without a sound, Toothless lowered himself until his head was resting across your lap, the full weight of his trust pressing gently into you. His tail, smooth and sinuous, coiled loosely around your leathered boots—not in a possessive way, but as if anchoring himself to you. Like he didn’t want to drift too far, even at rest.
Your hand didn’t stop moving. You continued to pat his head, your palm caressing from the ridge of his nose to the top of his forehead in slow, steady passes. The texture of his scales came to be familiar with your touch now—cool and sleek like river stones warmed just slightly by the sun. You could feel the subtle rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch, each exhale a quiet puff of warmth against your clothes.
Hiccup had been watching from just behind, peeking curiously over your shoulder, his brow furrowed as he eyed his dragon with a mix of confusion and suspicion. He knew Toothless better than anyone—of that, there was no doubt. They were best friends, bonded for life, closer than brothers. He could read the Night Fury like a book, from the flick of his ear fins to the way his pupils shifted in size. But right now? Hiccup didn’t have a clue what was going through his dragon’s mind.
Toothless was being clingy—uncharacteristically so. That kind of affection, that gentle insistence to be close, was usually reserved for Hiccup alone. Or, on rare occasions, when Toothless decided he wanted someone’s food and pulled out that ridiculous, wide-eyed look he’d perfected over the years.
He didn’t offer his head to rest across laps like some tame house cat. And he especially didn’t wrap his tail around someone unless he absolutely meant it.
Hiccup hovered just behind your shoulder, shifting his weight with an almost imperceptible unease. His posture suggested casual interest, but there was a tension in the way his hands fidgeted near the leather harness, as if he needed something—anything—to justify standing that close. He leaned slightly over, his voice low and deliberately nonchalant.
“He’s, uh… made himself very comfortable,” he remarked, casually, though his tone betrayed a hint of something else, pretending a study of the saddle straps that he himself had fastened not even an hour earlier—though his eyes never once flicked to the gear.
You didn’t answer right away. Your hand remained where it had been for the past few minutes, gliding in slow, absent circles across the midnight scales stretched over Toothless’s brow.
“He was restless earlier,” you murmured, eyes still on the sleek silhouette resting across your legs. “I think exhaustion finally caught up with him.”
Hiccup exhaled through his nose—a quiet, incredulous sound, the kind he often made when something didn’t quite add up. “Tired, huh?” he echoed, one eyebrow arched as he crossed his arms. “Right. Because Toothless is known for voluntarily laying down and offering his head like some… overgrown feline.”
“He’s been... different since he got better,” he said eventually. “Clingy, I guess. But only with you.”
As if prompted by the remark, Toothless flicked one ear back lazily and released a deep, sonorous sigh—a low rumble that vibrated warmly against your legs. Then he adjusted his weight just slightly, curling tighter around your boots in a gesture so deliberate it might have been smug.
“You know,” Hiccup continued, now frowning slightly, “he only gets like this when I’m injured… or if there’s leftover fish and he’s trying to butter me up.”
You said nothing—only smiled faintly, the pads of your fingers tracing along the ridges where scale met bone. The rumble of the dragon’s throat deepened—a smug, vibrating hum that practically radiated satisfaction.
There was a pause.
And then, perhaps against his better judgment, Hiccup added under his breath, “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was flirting.”
That definitely caught your attention. You turned your head slowly, casting a glance over your shoulder with one brow arched so high it might’ve escaped orbit. Every line of your expression—your knitted brow, the sharp squint of your eyes, the downward curve of your mouth—broadcasts a very clear and unfiltered what the actual hell without needing to say a word.
Hiccup’s eyes widened, his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth a second too late.
“With you! I mean—not you—like, not literally!” Hiccup stammered, his words tripping over each other in a spectacular, crashing spiral of embarrassment, not knowing how to stop, he just continued. “Thors! Dragons don’t flirt. That’s not—I mean, I don’t think that’s how it works. I just meant—” He stopped himself again, grimacing and raking a hand through his already-messy hair, as though hoping sheer friction could erase the mortifying sentence from reality. “I meant dragons don’t flirt! At least—I don’t think they do. Not in any, you know, intentional way. Not that you’re—ugh, never mind. Just forget I said anything.” He was done for. Absolutely cooked. And you? You just sat there, rigid as a stone sculpture, your entire expression locked in a state of horrified disbelief—lips drawn in a taut line, eyes slightly widened, your entire face twisted into that exact look you reserve for the unfortunate occasions whenever Gobber absentmindedly scratches his ass mid-conversation in front of you.
“Oh, by Odin’s beard. I sounded insane just now, didn’t I?” yes, yes you did. You wanted to say.
There was a loud snort.
Toothless lifted his head just enough to crack one luminous green eye open, as if to gloat. If a dragon could sport a smug grin, almost as if he were fully aware of the awkward tension hanging in the air and relishing every moment of it. Toothless was wearing it now—his posture relaxed, almost lazily victorious, as if he knew something the rest of you didn’t. It was a quiet, undeniable triumph. Then, with the most deliberate motion imaginable, the dragon raised his head just enough to nudge your arm... right into Hiccup’s thigh.
Your hand collided with him before you could stop it—fingers landing just above his knee. His leg jerked slightly. You froze.
He froze.
Even Toothless stopped moving, watching you both with an intensity that would’ve been terrifying if it weren’t so smug.
“I—he—what is wrong with you?” Hiccup half-whispered to his dragon, voice strained.
Toothless gave a tiny, airy chirp and nosed your hand again, this time with more force, like a toddler shoving two dolls together hoping they’d kiss.
“Well, if he is flirting,” you said, eyes glinting with amusement, “I’d say he’s got excellent taste.”
Hiccup let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a scoff and a nervous laugh, quickly raising his hand to shield his reddening face. “Please,” he muttered, voice nearly cracking in desperation, “I’m begging you. Don’t encourage him.”
A soft chuckle rumbled in your chest, the sound barely escaping as you continued to run your fingers along the smooth curve of Toothless’s jaw.
“Relax, Chief,” you teased lightly, your tone as calm as ever, well, nervous also, “I think your dragon just likes being pampered.”
“You know what,” he muttered, his hands already pulling toward the saddle straps, “I think his saddles make him itchy. I should change it.”
It continued after
New Berk lay quiet in the late afternoon, blanketed in the mellow hush that followed a long day’s labor. The skies were stained in hues of peach and gold, the sun dipping low behind the ridge, its last light brushing the rooftops with amber fire. Down by the dragon stables, you were crouched beside a weather-worn harness, your fingers working the frayed leather with practiced precision. The air smelled faintly of salt and dragon musk.
Toothless sat only a few feet away, his wings partially tucked, tail curled lazily around his paws—but his eyes never left you. That deep, verdant gaze tracked your every movement with a focus that was… unusually intent. For a moment, you swore he was studying you, like you were the dragon and he the expert.
The silence was broken by the familiar rustle of boots—well, boot, and the clink of a prosthetic leg against gravel. “Got the saddle gear you wanted—oh, hey, looks like someone started without me,” Hiccup called out
You offered a small smile. “Just got started. Figured I’d prep the straps while I waited.”
You glanced up as he jogged toward you, the dying light of the sun catching the mess of buckles and saddle slung over his shoulder. His tunic, stained with smudges of charcoal, bore the marks of the day’s labor. A grease-streaked cloth hung loosely from one shoulder, and smears of oil lined the edge of his jaw like war paint, a testament to the effort he’d put in.
“Gobber had the replacement buckles hidden under a crate labeled ‘Definitely Not Dragon Parts.’ I didn’t ask,” he added, crouching beside you with a huff of exertion.
Toothless twitched an ear.
Hiccup began to kneel down beside you—but before he could get comfortable, Toothless leaned in. It wasn’t aggressive. Just a firm, intended nudge with his snout to Hiccup’s side.
Which, unfortunately, was all it took.
With a muffled yelp and a sudden lurch of limbs, Hiccup lost his balance. In one swift, ungraceful motion, he toppled sideways—right into you. The unexpected impact sent you crashing backward, your back hitting the earth with a startled gasp. The air whooshed from your lungs as you were flattened to the ground, Hiccup landing awkwardly above you, his hands splayed in the dirt beside your shoulders as if trying to catch himself, but failing miserably.
You both froze.
For a moment, neither of you moved. Just the sound of the wind and Toothless’s faint chuckle broke the stunned silence. You lay there, staring up at him. Hiccup, his face flushed and eyes wide with embarrassment, shifted slightly, trying to regain his balance, but his awkward position only seemed to deepen the comedic nature of the situation.
“I—I swear that wasn’t me—he bumped me, I swear!” Hiccup stammered, his voice cracking under the strain of sheer mortification. His entire face flushed a vibrant crimson as if the embarrassment alone might send his ears into flames.
Toothless, meanwhile, let out a low, throaty trill—undeniably smug—before flopping onto his side with a soft fwump. He stretched his wings in a manner that could only be described as exaggerated satisfaction, purring contentedly like a mischievous feline who had just knocked over a vase and couldn’t be prouder of the chaos he’d wrought.
You laughed softly. “I think he’s trying to herd you.”
“Toothless,” Hiccup groaned, glancing at his dragon. “Stop it, I’m not a sheep!” He lifted himself just enough to look at Toothless, who was now shamelessly lounging in the grass, with an utterly smug look on his face.
Toothless chirped again—this time with what could only be interpreted as sure you’re not—and used the tip of his tail to slide a small stitched pouch directly between the two of you. The sewing kit skidded to a perfect stop at your knees, like he’d been practicing the maneuver all day.
“Yeah, he’s a real genius,” Hiccup grumbled as he shifted, trying to right himself. But the moment his hand pushed into the grass to grab the harness—wham. Toothless’s tail snapped out in a swift arc, tapping the small of Hiccup’s back.
And, just like that, Hiccup tumbled again. This time, he didn’t just lose his balance—he fully sprawled on top of you. His weight came crashing down with a perfect lack of coordination, and just like that, the last shred of dignity between you both evaporated in a heap of tangled limbs and groans.
Now it wasn’t just awkward—it was catastrophic. His face was far too close, hovering a few humiliating inches from yours. Everything else seemed to vanish. Your noses almost touched, and the proximity sent a rush of warmth through your chest that you didn’t quite know how to process. His hair, soft and surprisingly warm, brushed your cheek as he scrambled to push himself up, but instead of finding balance, he only succeeded in awkwardly elbowing you in the ribs.
The jolt of the impact made you wince, but the real sting came from the overwhelming closeness, the sheer absurdity of the situation, and the fact that neither of you could move without causing yet another small disaster. It was like the universe had conspired to take every shred of composure you both had left and toss it out the window.
Silence.
Well, except for the unmistakable sound of Toothless making a pleased little gurgle behind you, followed by the soft sound of him flopping dramatically onto his side like he’d just orchestrated the greatest comedic performance Berk had ever seen.
“I—I didn’t mean to—I mean he—Toothless—I swear he—” Hiccup stammered, his voice tripping over itself like a cart on cobblestones. He scrambled to push himself up, flinching every time his elbow threatened to jab your side again. His face was flushed a mortified crimson, a shade that clashed violently with the soot smudges across his cheek.
Hiccup looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. His wide eyes flicked to the ground, then back to you. You lay there, stunned, still half-flattened against the grass, your brain desperately trying to reboot from the shock of having Berk’s most awkward chief sprawled on top of you like a felled pine.
“I believe you,” you finally breathed, your voice catching somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze.
Hiccup’s face turned even redder, if that was even possible. “I—I’ll just… get up now. Slowly.”
“I swear,” Hiccup muttered, finally offering you a hand as he tried to extricate himself with the last scraps of his morality, “I’m usually much better at not falling on people.”
Pairing: Hiccup Haddock x Nomad!Reader
Summary: Turns out, Hiccup wasn't the first dragon rider -- and Toothless wasn't the last Night Fury. You prove to be a master of all things concerning the species.
Themes & Warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, fluffy at some points, violence if you squint, sick Toothless, Hiccup is kinda an ass a little bit.
Things had been fantastic.
Since his father had accepted dragons as a part of life, the world had opened up for Hiccup. He spent all of his time working with Toothless, expanding the rookery, cataloging species, sketching maps and forging new gear. The village looked to him like he actually belonged. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t “useless.” He was essential. He was happy. Toothless was even happier. His friends had dragons, too, exploring their sense of self up above the clouds just as he was.
He had finally done something right.
Until the night he met you. He lost his sense of self immediately.
One of the seamen, Golberg, came sprinting back into the center of Berk, out of breath and sweating, eyes wide. His face was beet-red, easy to see even in the dark. He knocked urgently on the chief's door, waking Hiccup in the process.
Him and his father exchanged a look before opening the door.
Golberg immediately started rushing the words out of his mouth.
Golberg sucked in a lungful of air, bent over with his hands on his knees. When he looked up, his eyes were still too wide, his voice trembling with disbelief.
“I heard the whistle! The whistle of a Night Fury! I saw the damn thing, in the sky, and there was--”
Hiccup interrupted.
“Not possible. Toothless is the last one alive.”
Golberg shook his head frantically. “I know what I saw!” he insisted, voice pitching higher. “It looked like a Night Fury -- almost exactly! But different. Bigger, maybe? And the sound -- gods, I swear it, Hiccup, it had the same shriek. The same lightless dive!”
Hiccup felt a chill crawl up his spine. Toothless stirred behind him, sensing the tension.
“Where?” Stoick asked, already turning toward his axe.
“The docks.” Golberg’s voice dropped. “It landed.”
Hiccup didn’t wait. He grabbed his flight gear and swung onto Toothless’s saddle before his father could stop him. The dragon let out a low, uneven chirp -- something between a question and a warning.
Hiccup’s brow furrowed. “You alright, bud?”
Toothless blinked, slow. His pupils were wide, body sluggish beneath him.
Strange.
Still, Hiccup tightened his grip on the saddle. “Let’s go.”
When he reached the dock, there was nothing but wet footprints. Footprints that looked exactly like Toothless's but bigger, like Golberg had mentioned, and then a set of small boot prints beside them. They reached the gravel and then disappeared.
“Damnit.” Hiccup grumbled. “They're gone.”
Toothless again stiffened up, a groan leaving his chest, before he oriented his body towards the thick line of trees across the water. He groaned again, his head shifting with more intention this time. His ears twitched toward the tree line, pupils narrowing slightly.
Hiccup followed his gaze.
A dense stretch of forest stood just beyond the edge of the inlet --dark and mist-veiled, with only the faintest shimmer of moonlight bouncing off the wet leaves. Nothing stirred. Not a single branch moved, no animal sounds. Too quiet.
Hiccup’s fingers flexed around the saddle grips.
“You smell something?” he muttered. Toothless gave a low rumble in response, tail swaying slightly.
It wasn’t just instinct. It was something deeper. Primal. A flicker of recognition from the Night Fury. Of territory being tested. Of something that felt too close, too similar… too other.
Hiccup slid off the saddle slowly, boots hitting the damp wooden dock with a muffled thud. He followed the trail where the prints ended, crouching down to touch the last visible one. Still fresh. Still wet.
Not gone. Just hiding.
He looked back at Toothless --who now stood perfectly still, shoulders hunched, wings twitching like he was bracing for a challenge.
“Okay,” Hiccup muttered under his breath, pushing up the collar of his flight suit. “If they want to play it like that…”
He drew his dagger from his belt -- not to use, but just in case. He wasn’t going to be caught off guard. Whoever you were, you had the nerve to fly into his village on a dragon that shouldn’t exist, insult his intelligence, and vanish into the woods like a shadow.
No. He wasn’t letting it go that easy.
And with one last glance at the still, dark trees, Hiccup stepped off the gravel path and into the forest. Toothless followed, body tense but curious. His black scales shimmered in the night glow.
The forest swallowed them whole.
No village lights reached this far. Just the occasional sliver of moonlight piercing the canopy and the steady rhythm of breath --Hiccup’s, then Toothless’s, both just a little too fast.
Twigs cracked underfoot. Moss muffled the rest. The air smelled like earth and storm.
Then, the brush moved. Deliberate. Close.
Hiccup froze. Toothless’s ears flattened. Another growl rumbled out of his throat, deeper this time, nearly a warning.
But the answer came before Hiccup could react.
A second growl. Lower. Rougher. From somewhere ahead.
Toothless surged forward, snarling, but then stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes locked.
A shadow melted from between the trees like ink in water.
It was your dragon again.
And you, standing to its left, one hand still resting on the beast's side, calm like you'd been waiting.
You tilted your head. “Bringing backup?”
Hiccup didn’t sheath the dagger, but he did lower it. “Didn’t realize I’d need it.”
“Neither did I,” you replied. “But here we are.”
The tension cracked in the air between you.
Your dragon was.. Toothless. But bigger. He had broader wings, shinier scales, and sharper teeth. Instead of green eyes, his were an intimidating ice blue, pupils thin, eyes trained onto Hiccup and Toothless like he expected a fight. His wing curled around the back of you, like a protective sheath, ready to curl you inward if needed.
Your eyes widened, not as hostile as your dragon's.
“It's true.. Everything I heard is true. There is another one.” You said, almost breathlessly. You ran a hand down your dragon's side reflexively, like a calming gesture to both of you.
Hiccup’s breath hitched, a mix of disbelief and something deeper stirring in his chest. The weight of it settled like a stone -- another Night Fury. Not just a myth or a legend. Real. Alive.
Toothless shifted beside him, low growl vibrating through the air, but his eyes were softer now, watching your dragon with cautious recognition.
“You don’t look like one of us,” Hiccup said slowly, eyes flicking back to you. “Not from Berk. Where are you from?”
You met his gaze steadily, fingers still lingering against your dragon’s smooth scales. “Far from here. I’ve been chasing stories for months, trying to find the Night Fury I've been hearing of. Your Night Fury.”
Hiccup’s eyes narrowed slightly, absorbing your words. The weight of months spent searching, the desperation and hope wrapped into one, was clear in your voice. It stirred something in him -- a mix of admiration and skepticism.
“Thor,” he murmured, glancing at his dragon, who let out a soft, almost curious chirp in response. “I didn’t think anyone was still looking for them. Least of all, someone like you.”
You smiled wistfully.
“I found Perseus,” you gestured to the huge dragon beside you, “when he was small. Thrashing around in the bushes, caught in a trap. I was never like the rest of the people in my village. I didn't want to kill them and I wasn't afraid of them.”
Perseus purred, nuzzling against you.
“I raised him. Learned how he works. Learned everything about his species.. The species I thought burned out. But it seems we were wrong.”
Hiccup’s eyes softened as he studied you and Perseus, the enormity of what you were saying settling in like a dawning light. “You raised him… from a hatchling?”
You nodded, fingers gently stroking the sleek scales along Perseus’s neck. “I had to learn fast. Night Furies aren’t like other dragons, they’re elusive, intelligent, and fiercely protective. If you don’t understand that, you don’t stand a chance.”
Toothless shifted closer to you both, his gaze flickering between Perseus and his rider with growing curiosity. The unspoken connection between the two Night Furies hummed quietly in the air -- familiar, like echoes from a past no one had dared to speak of.
Hiccup swallowed hard, a strange mixture of envy and relief flooding him. “I thought Toothless was the last. That the species was gone forever.”
You smiled in amusement.
“Toothless. What a fun name.”
Hiccup blinked, a slow smile creeping onto his face despite the tension lingering between you. “Yeah, well, it fits him. He’s… unique.”
You chuckled softly, the sound light but carrying an edge of knowing. “Unique is one word for it. I imagine he’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide.”
“Toothless?” Hiccup grinned, shaking his head. “You’re not wrong.”
The two Night Furies exchanged a brief glance, the older one’s eyes narrowing with something almost like recognition, before Perseus let out a soft, rumbling purr that seemed to say, I like him.
After the exchange, Hiccup brought you back to the village.
He couldn't decide whether it was a mistake or not.
You were loved. Immediately.
You could do things Hiccup couldn't. Perseus was new and shiny to the people of Berk, adoring fans crowding around him, but backing up when he let out a shattering roar, as if to warn people from coming too close.
Hiccup watched from a distance, a complicated knot tightening in his chest. You moved through the crowd with effortless confidence, sharing knowledge about Night Furies that left the villagers wide-eyed and eager to learn. Your connection with Perseus was undeniable -- fierce yet tender -- and the people of Berk couldn’t get enough.
But there was something else. A tension beneath the admiration. A shadow in Hiccup’s mind whispering that he was losing ground -- not just as a dragon rider, but as the village’s champion of dragon-kind.
A rivalry began.
Who could complete the most raids? Who could defend Berk better? Who caught the better approval from Stoick?
You and Hiccup were at each other's throats as soon as you could be.
One time, you showed up at the same raid, undermining each other and failing to complete it. Your eyes almost burned with irritation as you dismounted Perseus, approaching Hiccup immediately.
Hiccup wasn't much happier.
“What the hell was that, Haddock?!” you shot, voice low but fierce. “Trying to show me up? Because you just made a mess of everything.”
Hiccup’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t trying to impress you or anyone else. I was trying to keep Berk safe. Something you seemed to forget when you decided to go solo.”
Perseus growled softly behind you, wings twitching nervously, while Toothless let out a warning hiss, sensing the tension crackling between the two of you.
You stepped closer, eyes locking with his. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to be the hero, you’d see that we’re stronger together.”
Hiccup laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
“We have no business doing anything together,” he groaned, “You're only here because of your dragon. Not because we need your help.”
You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sharp edge in his voice, the unspoken hurt beneath the anger. Your breath hitched, but you refused to show weakness.
“Is that what you really think?” you asked, voice steady but cold. “That I’m just some tagalong riding a flashy dragon? Maybe I’m here because I want to protect Berk. Just like you.”
Hiccup’s eyes narrowed, pain flickering there before the stubborn shield went back up. “It’s not the same. You don’t belong here.”
Perseus rumbled low, a protective growl that vibrated through your bones. You wrapped a hand around his neck, grounding yourself.
“I belong wherever I decide to stand,” you said softly but firmly. “And right now, that’s here. Whether you like it or not.”
For a moment, the silence between you was thick enough to cut. Then Toothless stepped forward, nudging Hiccup’s arm, breaking the tension -- a silent reminder that neither of you were alone in this.
He could've sworn he saw a tear glisten in your eye before you stalked off. Perseus stuck behind for a second, grumbling at Hiccup judgmentally, a warning growl.
Hiccup stood frozen for a heartbeat, staring after you as your silhouette vanished into the darkening woods. The raw vulnerability beneath your fierce words twisted in his gut, conflicting with his stubborn pride.
Toothless shifted beside him, letting out a low, almost mournful hiss, before glancing up at Hiccup with those wide, knowing eyes.
Weeks stretched before you and Hiccup interacted again. You’d even been in the same place without speaking. You trained with the rest of the group, but you didn’t train with Hiccup and Toothless. You focused on training Perseus with the larger dragons, namely Snotlout (annoying and far too flirty) and his dragon Hookfang. You sometimes trained with the twins and their Zippleback too, but once again, Tuffnut got a little too comfortable with you.
Today, Perseus had done well. He always did, really. There was something odd about the session though.
Hiccup and Toothless hadn’t even shown up, they were nowhere to be found at all. So you, unfortunately, were kind of off your game. You looked off into the horizon, expecting to see Hiccup on Toothless’s saddle, apologizing awkwardly for being late. But the moment never came.
“Babe!” Snotlout called, gliding up next to you. You felt the heat off Hookfang’s scales seeping into your clothes. “Focus. What are you looking at?”
You rolled your eyes. “Babe? What have I told you about calling me babe, Snotlout?”
Snotlout grinned, completely unbothered. “That it gets under your skin.” He leaned a little too far toward you, raising his eyebrows. “Which I take as a sign you secretly like it.”
Hookfang let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and Perseus curled his lip, baring a row of glinting white teeth. The threat was clear -- one flap closer and Hookfang wasn’t the only one Snotlout had to worry about.
You sighed and gently tugged Perseus back with a hand on his jaw. “Back, boy. He’s not worth the energy.”
Snotlout raised both hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! Don’t get your tail in a twist. Just trying to lighten the mood.” He squinted at you, then glanced toward the distant cliffs beyond Berk. “You’ve been twitchy all day. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried.”
You stiffened slightly, trying to hide the way your eyes flicked to the sky again. Still no sign of Hiccup or Toothless.
“I’m not worried,” you lied. “I’m just… distracted.”
“Mhm,” Snotlout said, clearly not buying it. “Well, for what it’s worth, I heard Hiccup was out early this morning. Didn’t say where he was going, just packed some gear and flew off. Toothless didn’t even say goodbye to Hookfang. Can you believe that? Rude.”
That sinking feeling returned in your stomach. Hiccup might have been petty -- and kind of a jerk when he wanted to be -- but he wasn’t reckless. Not without a reason. And not without telling anyone.
Your voice was quieter when you finally spoke. “Did he say anything to anyone?”
Snotlout shrugged. “Not that I heard. Maybe Fishlegs would know more. He and Hiccup always talk nerd stuff.”
You gave a quick nod, pulling Perseus around with a soft whistle. The massive Night Fury immediately followed, wings twitching with tension.
Snotlout called after you with a lazy wave. “Try not to miss me too much!”
You didn’t even glance back. You were already scanning the skies, muttering under your breath.
“Where the hell did you go, Haddock?”
Surprisingly, you didn’t have to go far.
When you went into the village to get some gear in preparation to go hunt them down, you found that they were already home.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Hiccup answered, worry in his eyes, poorly disguised as annoyance to see you.
“Y/n. I’m kind of busy right now.”
Your brows drew together immediately. You could see it in Hiccup’s face -- the exhaustion, the unspoken panic. His shirt was wrinkled, collar askew, and his hair was a mess like he’d been running his hands through it nonstop. Something was wrong.
“Busy?” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady. “I noticed. You disappeared without a word and didn’t show up for training. Toothless didn’t show up either. And now you look like you haven’t slept.”
Hiccup sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think you’d care.”
That stung. You stepped forward anyway, peering over his shoulder, and your heart dropped.
Toothless was curled up on the floor behind him, his massive form sluggish, wings drooping over the sides of the rug. His breathing was uneven, too slow. His scales, normally iridescent and alive with movement, looked dull under the dim firelight.
Your voice softened, forgetting every ounce of rivalry between you. “Hiccup…”
“He wouldn’t eat,” Hiccup muttered, stepping aside reluctantly to let you in. “Didn’t fly right. He nearly crashed this morning, so I brought him back. He’s been like this since.” He dragged a hand down his face. “And I have no idea what’s wrong.”
You dropped your gear beside the doorway and approached Toothless slowly. Perseus, waiting outside, let out a soft, distressed hum that vibrated through the wood of the hut. You crouched beside the dragon, resting a hand against his muzzle.
He didn’t flinch, but the touch made his eye flicker open. It was hazy. Unfocused.
You took that as a sign that he wasn't hostile. Leaning down further, you calmly smoothed your hand across his head, starting from his jaw and ending by his folded ears. You frowned, biting your lip. He was warm. Feverish.
“I’ve seen this before,” you cleared your throat, standing. “He’s sick. Perseus has been through it, too. I called it Scorchrot.”
Hiccup blinked. “Scorchrot?”
You nodded grimly. “It hits Night Furies harder than other dragons. Starts with a fever, then weakness in the wings and limbs. If untreated, it can affect their fire glands -- that’s where the name comes from. They burn too hot on the inside, like they’re rotting from the core.”
Hiccup paled slightly, glancing back at Toothless. “How did you treat it?”
“Well, there's a medicine I can make that helped Perseus a lot. Also, cool compresses, a temporary shift in diet -- no fish, just soft roots and rainwater -- and something to lower his body temperature.”
Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, pacing slightly. “Medicine? What kind of--what do you need? Herbs? Minerals? Just tell me and I’ll get it.”
You gave him a steady look. “I’ll need frostleaf, ground thistle root, and dried skybloom petals. They’re rare this far north, but I saw some near the cliffs when I flew in.”
He exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders tight as wire. “Right. Okay. I’ll get them.”
You hesitated before stepping forward, voice softer. “You don’t have to do it alone. I know you don’t trust me. But trust me with this. I’ve done it before.”
He met your eyes, something shifting behind his, pride, maybe. Or fear disguised as pride.
“I’m not worried about trusting you,” he muttered. “I’m worried about losing him.”
Your expression softened. “Then we fix him. Together.”
A quiet moment passed. Then, from behind, a weak thrum of a purr came from Toothless’s throat -- hoarse, but there. Alive. Reaching.
Perseus, still just outside the hut, let out a low, supportive hum. He wouldn’t leave either.
And maybe, for the first time in weeks, the rivalry didn’t matter so much.
“Can you.. Will you stay here with him? I don't want him to be alone.”
Hiccup acted like it literally burned his throat to ask for help, but you accepted, smiling softly.
“Yeah. I'll stay.”
You moved back toward Toothless, kneeling at his side again with quiet care. His tail twitched at your presence, just barely, and you stroked along his jaw, murmuring something low and soothing. His eyes fluttered, half-lidded, but calmer now.
Hiccup lingered in the doorway, watching the way your hand moved so naturally, how Perseus let out another soft trill from outside, keeping vigil.
“Thank you,” he said, voice rough.
You didn’t look up. “Go get what we need. We’ll be here when you get back.”
There was a beat -- like he wanted to say something more -- but he only nodded. Then he was gone, off into the thickening clouds of the afternoon, chasing herbs and hope like his life depended on it.
Inside the hut, the heat from Toothless’s fever pulsed faintly in the air. You leaned into it, not shrinking away, fingers steady on his scales.
“We’re gonna take care of you,” you whispered.
When Hiccup returned, you were holding a cold compress to Toothless's head tenderly, stroking his scales. You'd loosed your hair from your braid, the curls tumbling down your back in soft waves -- before you even realized he was there, you cooed, speaking gently to the dragon. It was your nature, he'd realized. You were amazing with them, like you'd known how to love a dragon your entire life. Because in all honesty, you did.
This was the first time he wasn't envious of it. He leaned against the doorframe watching you, an unusual feeling building in his chest.
No envy. No distaste as there usually was. Just.. watching you. Watching how you worked. Watching how your h/c hair blew gently in the wind from the open window. Watching how you turned to smile at Perseus, who had somehow managed to curl his massive form around you on the floor.
You were beautiful.
The thought made Hiccup wince. Why the hell was he doing this?
Because for once, he wasn’t trying to win.
Not a raid. Not a title. Not Stoick’s approval.
Not even a rivalry.
Just--this. Toothless, sick but stable. Perseus curled around you like a shield. You, eyes soft and voice softer, hands moving like you'd done this a thousand times, like dragons were born trusting you.
Hiccup tightened his grip on the bundle of herbs in his arms, unsure what to do with the sudden ache blooming in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be beautiful. You weren’t supposed to be gentle and fierce in the same breath. You were supposed to be frustrating. Competitive. Impossible.
But now? You were kneeling in his hut, taking care of the creature he loved most in the world like he was your own. And for the first time, Hiccup felt like maybe you weren’t just here because of Perseus. Maybe you weren’t just a threat.
Maybe… you were something else entirely.
He stepped inside quietly, setting down the supplies. You turned, surprised but smiling.
“There you are,” you said softly. “I was starting to think you got lost.”
And just like that, Hiccup found himself smiling back.
“Not a chance,” he murmured, eyes flicking to Toothless. “Couldn’t stay away.” Then quieter, “From either of you.”
He winced, turning his head to apologize for being weird, but he hadn't realized that you'd already gotten started on preparing the medicine, probably having taken the herbs from his arms while he was staring like a moron.
His face flushed.
Get it together, Hiccup.
You hadn’t said anything about the comment -- at least not out loud -- so he was really hoping that you hadn't even heard it. If you had, you let it pass. Maybe out of kindness. Maybe because your focus was entirely on Toothless.
Your fingers worked with practiced ease, crushing herbs with a mortar and pestle, mixing them with a dark amber liquid that smelled earthy and sharp. The kind of scent that clung to the back of your throat. Hiccup stayed quiet, hovering nearby with his hands in his pockets like some awkward apprentice.
“Help me lift his head?” you asked, glancing up with that same infuriating, gentle confidence you always had. Like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you didn’t need him but still wanted him there.
He nodded quickly, grateful to have something to do. As he cradled Toothless’s heavy head, you brought the bowl close, dipping a small ladle into it and holding it near the dragon’s mouth.
Toothless didn’t resist. He trusted you. That fact alone made Hiccup’s chest ache.
You sat back on your heels after the last of the mixture was gone, brushing your hands on your thighs. “He’ll need another dose tomorrow, but this should bring the fever down.”
Hiccup set Toothless’s head back onto the cushions gently and looked at you again.
And this time, when he looked, he really saw you.
Not the rival who beat him at raids. Not the outsider who dazzled Berk. Not the competition.
Just you.
Exhausted but unwavering. Fierce but kind. Beautiful, yes but in that wild, maddening way he never saw coming.
He cleared his throat. “Thanks. For… everything.”
You met his gaze, softer now. “I’m not here to steal your dragon, you know.”
“I know,” Hiccup said, voice low. “I think I just… didn’t know how to let someone help.”
You tilted your head, studying him, something unreadable behind your eyes.
“Well,” you said, finally, “you’re doing better than most.”
And he smiled. A real one. Small, crooked. Honest.
You stood to leave, gathering your things. A small wave of your scent hit his nose -- flowers, smoke from a fire, and leather grease.
He watched as you slung your pack over your shoulder, fingers deft and sure, the same hands that had soothed Toothless back from the edge. You didn’t look at him right away, maybe on purpose, maybe because you didn’t want to break the strange quiet that had settled.
And maybe he didn’t either.
You were halfway to the door when Hiccup found his voice again.
“Hey,” he said softly.
You paused, glancing over your shoulder.
And there it was again -- that look. Like you could see through him without even trying. Like you already knew what he was going to say.
Still, he said it.
“…Thanks for staying.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks for letting me.”
And then you were gone, the door closing quietly behind you. The scent of flowers, fire, and leather grease lingering like a memory.
Hiccup stood there a long time after you left, watching the door, listening to Toothless’s steady breathing, wondering when everything had stopped being so simple.
And why the thought of seeing you again tomorrow suddenly felt like the most important thing in the world.
Over the next week, Hiccup watched you like he had the first night you'd been there. Watched you care for Toothless while he was sick. Watched you help the both of them through his recovery, helping the dragon regain his strength and teaching Hiccup how to help too.
You guided his hands to where he needed to hold Toothless, supporting him in regaining limb strength. Hiccup wasn't sure if he'd felt such soft, yet firm hands in his life. They were warm too.
And every time your fingers brushed his, by accident, or maybe not, Hiccup’s mind blanked for a second too long.
At first, he told himself it was just proximity. Just admiration. You were helping Toothless, after all -- he’d be an idiot not to appreciate that. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way you smiled when Toothless lifted his head for the first time without help. The way you murmured encouragement into the crook of his neck when his limbs trembled from fatigue. The way you praised Hiccup when he got it right, voice soft and proud, like it mattered to you.
Eventually, Toothless was himself again.
You cheered in happiness when he finally took flight, darting around the sky, diving like he used to. Perseus joined him, flying around in circles.
You stood with your hands cupped around your mouth, calling out to them both like a proud parent, laughter spilling from your lips as Toothless and Perseus twirled through the sky like black comets.
Hiccup stood beside you, unable to take his eyes off either of you -- not the dragons, not the joy on your face. Your eyes glowed with the reflected fire of the setting sun, and something about the moment twisted in his chest, bittersweet and beautiful.
“He’s really back,” you breathed, eyes tracking Toothless as he executed a perfect loop. “I was scared he wouldn’t be.”
Hiccup glanced sideways at you, his voice quiet. “Me too.”
Perseus roared playfully mid-air, and Toothless responded with a trilling chirp before they dove together, a synchronized flash of wings and light. Their bond was no longer wary or foreign. It was something else now. Familiar. Like they’d always known each other.
Kind of like… you and Hiccup.
You turned toward him just then, and he realized how close you were standing. Shoulder to shoulder. You’d always felt like competition before. But now, you felt like something else. Like part of his team.
“You helped him get here,” Hiccup said, voice low, a little rough. “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”
You blinked, surprised at the honesty. Then your lips curled into a slow smile. “Well, Haddock, maybe you’re not so bad at letting someone help after all.”
He huffed a laugh, half embarrassed. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
You nudged him gently with your elbow. “Too late.”
The dragons whooshed overhead again, close enough for a gust of wind to tousle your hair. As you both watched them chase each other across the sky, Hiccup wasn’t sure what tomorrow would look like -- but for once, he hoped it looked a lot like today.
When he returned home, his dad sat in his chair, reading from a big thick book. He looked up from it, smiling knowingly.
“Hiccup. How's Toothless today?”
Hiccup paused in the doorway, caught off guard by the warm familiarity in Stoick’s voice -- and the knowing look in his eyes. He stepped inside slowly, brushing the wind from his hair and shrugging off his riding gear.
“He’s better,” Hiccup said, glancing out the window for a moment as if he could still see the dragons dancing in the air. “Flying again. Strong.”
Stoick nodded, pleased. “And the other one? Perseus?”
“Also good,” Hiccup replied, then hesitated. “They’ve started flying together. It’s like they’ve known each other longer than we have.”
He closed the book, placing it down on the table next to him.
“You're right to be fond of that one. Y/n. She's fantastic with the dragons.”
Hiccup's jaw dropped immediately, his face burning. What was his Dad insinuating?
“Dad! We're not--”
Stoick interrupted, putting his hand up to silence him.
“My boy. There's no shame in it. She's fair in the face, she's honorable, and she’s got a spirit fiercer than any dragon I’ve ever met. A fine match for a chief’s son, don’t you think?”
Hiccup sputtered, his ears turning as red as a Monstrous Nightmare’s flame. “I--I don’t--we’re just friends! We train dragons together, that’s all!”
Stoick leaned back in his chair, his knowing smile widening. “Aye, and I just happened to notice the way you look at her when she’s not paying attention.”
Hiccup groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, Thor.”
His father’s laughter boomed through the hall. “Relax, son. I’m only teasing.” He paused, then added with a softer tone, “But if there were something more… well, I’d be happy for you.”
Hiccup exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well. Thanks, Dad.” He shot a glance toward the door, desperate for an escape. “I should, uh… go check on Toothless. Again.”
Stoick waved him off, still grinning. “Go on, then. Just remember--dragons aren’t the only things worth chasing. Betrothal is just as important.”
Hiccup nearly tripped over his own feet on the way out.
The next day, everyone resumed training, pleased that Toothless was well again. He was the last one there, quickly saddling Toothless and climbing on. Looking up in the sky, he saw you already up there, Perseus dipping and blowing targets apart with blue flames. You giggled and cheered, praising him, your braid blowing in the frantic winds.
He could've swooned.
Tuffnut stood next to him, his arms crossed, smirking in that dumb Tuffnut sort of way.
"Wow," Tuffnut drawled, nudging Hiccup with his elbow. "You’ve got it bad."
Hiccup startled, nearly dropping Toothless’ saddle strap. "What? No I don’t." He fumbled with the buckle, refusing to look up. "I was just… assessing Perseus’ flight form. Y’know, as the resident dragon expert."
Tuffnut snorted. "Uh-huh. And I assess Fishlegs’ lunch every day before I steal it. Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry." He leaned in, grinning. "Face it, Hiccup. You’re smitten."
"I am not smitten," Hiccup hissed, finally securing the saddle and swinging onto Toothless’ back. "And even if I were--which I’m not--it’s none of your business."
Tuffnut clutched his chest dramatically. "Oh, but it is! As your best friend--"
"You’re not my best friend."
"--I have a sacred duty to point out when you’re being ridiculous." Tuffnut smirked. "And right now? You’re being ridiculous."
"Ooooh, Hiccup’s got a crush!" Ruffnut’s voice carried across the training arena as she and Astrid strolled up, both wearing matching grins.
Astrid crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were too busy being the ‘Dragon Master’ to notice anything else."
Hiccup groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh, come on. You too, Astrid?"
"What? I call it like I see it," Astrid said with a smirk. "And I see you staring at Y/n like she just invented fire."
Ruffnut cackled, elbowing Tuffnut. "Told you! Even Astrid noticed!"
Hiccup’s face burned. "I do not stare--"
"You literally just sighed when she did that barrel roll," Tuffnut cut in.
"I was impressed by Perseus’ flying!" Hiccup protested weakly.
"Uh-huh," Ruffnut said, rolling her eyes. "And I’m just here for the free mead."
Astrid shook her head, still grinning. "Face it, Hiccup. You’re obvious."
Just then, you and Perseus swooped down, landing gracefully beside them. "What’s obvious?" you asked, hopping off your dragon and brushing off your tunic.
The twins exchanged exaggerated glances.
"Oh, nothing," Tuffnut said innocently. "Just Hiccup’s undying admiration for--"
"DRAGON TRAINING!" Hiccup blurted, cutting him off. "We should, uh, get back to it. Right now. Immediately."
You blinked. "…Okay?"
Toothless gave Hiccup a flat look, as if to say, Really? That’s the best you’ve got?
Astrid snorted. "Smooth, Haddock. Real smooth."
Hiccup buried his face in his hands as the twins howled with laughter.
Some days, being the future chief was really overrated.
At the end of training, Hiccup knew where to find you. Just where you usually were -- watching the sunset at the edge of the cliff with Perseus.
Your skin glowed in the orange sunlight, boot clad feet dangling from the edge as you scratched Perseus behind his ear. You hummed to an old folk song, staring out at the sun. Hiccup landed behind you, unclipping himself from his gear, before slowly starting to approach you.
Toothless, ever the mischievous wingman, nudged Hiccup forward with a low, encouraging warble, nearly sending him stumbling.
"Hey," Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped beside you. "Mind if I join you?"
You glanced up, smiling. "Only if you promise not to trip over your own feet this time and make Toothless dive to catch you."
"Hey, that was one time--" he protested, but you just laughed and patted the spot next to you.
Perseus rumbled in greeting as Hiccup sat down, his tail thumping against the ground like an overgrown cat’s. The sunset painted the sky in fiery golds and deep purples, the ocean below shimmering with reflected light.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Just the wind, the distant cries of dragons, and the steady rhythm of the waves.
Then;
"So," you said, bumping his shoulder playfully. "Heard you’ve been admiring my flying."
Hiccup choked. "Oh, for Thor's sake--who told you that?"
You grinned. "Let’s just say the twins aren’t great at keeping secrets."
"I’m going to strangle them," Hiccup muttered, but there was no real heat in it.
You laughed again, leaning back on your hands. "Relax. I think it’s sweet."
His heart did a weird little flip. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Another pause. Then, softer:
"I admire yours too, you know."
Hiccup turned to look at you, really look at you. The way the fading light caught in your eyes, the way your lips quirked in that half-smile he’d come to memorize.
And suddenly, all the teasing, all the nerves, none of it mattered.
Because right here, right now?
This was perfect.
Toothless and Perseus exchanged a glance, then deliberately turned their backs, giving you two the closest thing to privacy two nosy dragons could manage.
"Hiccup?"
"Yeah?'
You cleared your throat.
"I know you thought I came here to.. take your place. Dull your shine. Whatever it was, but," you started to talk, turning in his direction. "I never felt like I had a place before I got here. I was always running, trying to figure out where I belonged. You make me feel like I have a home. A place where I fit perfectly."
Hiccup’s breath caught in his throat. The way you said it, so raw, so honest, hit him like a tidal wave. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.
Then, softly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours.
"You do belong here," he said, voice rough with emotion. "And not just because of Perseus, or because you’re an amazing dragon rider--though, y’know, that definitely helps."
You laughed, but your eyes were suspiciously bright.
Hiccup swallowed, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. "You belong here because… because Berk is better with you in it. I’m better with you in it." He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "And trust me, that’s saying something, because I was really doing well before you showed up."
You leaned into him, shoulder against shoulder, warmth seeping through the contact. "Your dad told me some stories.. about when you were younger. From what I hear, you're a lot different than you were."
Hiccup groaned, his face flushing. "Oh no. What did he tell you? Please don’t say it was the eel incident--"
You grinned, mischief dancing in your eyes. "Oh, it was definitely the eel incident."
"I was twelve!" Hiccup threw his free hand up in exasperation, but he was laughing despite himself. "And in my defense, eels are slippery."
You leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He also told me about the time you tried to impress Astrid by jumping off the Great Hall--"
"Okay, wow, I see how it is," Hiccup interrupted, shaking his head. "My own father, sabotaging me. Some chief he is."
You nudged him, still grinning. "I think it’s sweet. He’s proud of you. And he likes me."
Hiccup softened, his thumb still absently tracing circles on your hand. "Yeah, well. You’re kind of impossible not to like."
The words hung between you, quiet but weighty. The sun had fully set now, leaving only the glow of the village fires below and the endless scatter of stars above.
When he finally glanced down, he saw your e/c eyes looking back up at him. The moonlight reflected in them, your eyelids slightly low. You studied his appearance like a painting, like you'd never seen anything more detailed.
This was the first time you'd looked at him like this. The first time you looked at him like he was something other than transparent.
Hiccup’s breath hitched.
There was something new in your gaze -- something intentional, something certain -- and it sent his pulse skittering like a startled Terrible Terror. Your fingers tightened ever so slightly around his, anchoring him in the moment.
For once, Hiccup Haddock didn’t overthink.
He didn’t stumble.
He just leaned in.
Hiccup’s first brush of lips against yours was hesitant: sweet, questioning, as if he still couldn’t quite believe this was real. But when you let out a soft sigh against his mouth, something in him ignited.
His hand slid up to cradle your jaw, fingers tangling gently in your hair as the kiss deepened. Your lips parted, and the taste of him -- warm, faintly of hearth-smoke and wild mint -- sent a shiver down your spine. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you, until you could feel the frantic hammer of his heartbeat against your own.
The world fell away.
There was only this: the heat of his touch, the rough calluses of his fingers against your skin, the way his breath hitched when you nipped lightly at his lower lip. A low, desperate sound escaped him, and he kissed you like he was drowning and you were air.
When you finally broke apart, gasping, his forehead rested against yours, his voice ragged.
"I’ve wanted to do that… for weeks. Ever since you first helped me with Toothless."
You smiled, thumb brushing the flushed curve of his cheekbone. "Took you long enough."
Hiccup laughed, breathless, his eyes dark and burning in the moonlight. "Yeah, well… I’m a slow learner."
"Liar," you whispered. "You’re the quickest one I’ve ever met."
His grin was wicked. "Prove it."
And then his mouth was on yours again, hungry and sure this time, swallowing your laugh as he kissed you like it was the only thing that mattered.
And maybe, just for tonight -- it was.
Until you heard slow clapping behind you. You broke apart, rolling your eyes, and turned in Hiccup's lap.
Ruffnut and Tuffnut.
"Bra-vo!" Ruffnut drawled, clapping with exaggerated slowness. "And here I thought Hiccup’s only talent was tripping over his own feet."
Tuffnut wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "So beautiful. So pure. I think I’m gonna be sick."
Hiccup groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. "I swear to Odin, if you two don’t vanish in the next three seconds--"
"Ooooh, scary!" Ruffnut cackled, elbowing her brother. "Think he’ll sic Toothless on us?"
Toothless, still sprawled dramatically on the ground, cracked one eye open--then promptly rolled onto his back, paws in the air, as if to say, Don’t involve me in this nonsense.
You sighed, twisting to smirk at Hiccup. "We could just ignore them."
Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "You think that’ll work?"
"Worth a shot."
"Actually," you smirked, "hold on."
And then -- without breaking eye contact -- you tapped Perseus's side, waking him up. His blue eyes opened slowly, then narrowed playfully. His throat released a growl, not malice, but pretending to be. His main goal was scaring the twins.
He didn't disappoint. The growl rumbled the dirt, stirring pebbles up.
The effect was instantaneous.
Tuffnut yelped, backpedaling so fast he nearly tripped over his own axe. "WHOA -- OKAY -- WE’RE LEAVING!"
Ruffnut, to her credit, stood her ground for a grand total of two seconds before Perseus exhaled an ear piercing roar.
"Alright, alright! Jeez!" She threw her hands up, but her grin was all mischief. "But just know -- this isn’t over! You two lovebirds are officially our new favorite entertainment!"
And with that, the twins bolted, their laughter fading into the night as Perseus gave a satisfied rumble and flopped back down, tail thumping like a pleased cat.
Hiccup stared after them, then turned to you, eyes wide. "…Did you just weaponize your dragon to scare off the twins?"
You shrugged, scratching Perseus under the chin. "What can I say? He’s got range."
Hiccup burst out laughing, pulling you back against him. "You," he said, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, "are terrifying."
You smirked. "And you love it."
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I really do."
And as Perseus and Toothless settled in beside you -- one pretending to sleep, the other already actually snoring -- Hiccup decided something:
i keep thinking about ur casual dominance hiccup hcs theyre so good
i walk fast and i keep thinking about him just like. gently grabbing my ponytail and tugging me back to his side (hc he walks slow cus his prosthetic) and not even missing a beat in whatever we were talking about likkeee
Hiccup won't judge you too harshly for walking twice his speed, because the baby dragons you're raving about really are incredible, but when he can barely hear you anymore as he lags behind, he takes an extra long step and reaches for your hair that's swinging back and forth in its ponytail.
"And the littlest one is the fattest." You're laughing, demonstrating its size with your hands, "He's short but he's chubby because he eats the most- ah- hey!"
"Too fast." He murmurs, the thunk of his prosthetic leg hitting the bedrock beneath you a reminder that he can't exactly go for a sprint around the island anymore, "Keep going- what about the fat little baby?"
"He eats all of the rocks," You laugh breathily, feeling Hiccup's hand drift to the small of your back instead of hanging onto your hair, "I'll walk slower, sorry."
"I'm missing a leg, just in case you forgot." He sends you a cheeky, knowing grin, "The prosthetic chafes really bad if I rush too fast."
"Well we don't have to rush." You resolve, slowing yourself down to a snail's pace as you trek through the woodlands of Berk, "We can spend all day here. It'll give me a chance to get some fresh air, and it'll give you a chance to avoid your dad!"
"Hey! I'm not avoiding him," Hiccup gripes, but he gives in almost immediately, "I'm just- trying not to walk by him so that he doesn't suck me into a four-hour-long lecture about providing for our people when what he's really talking about is tending to Mildew's cabbage farm because he's too lazy to do it himself!"
"Well then," You snicker, bumping your shoulder into his and nearly sending him to the ground, "It'll give you a chance to not walk by your dad so that he doesn't suck you into a-"
"Alright- Walk faster again," Hiccup cuts you off, using the hand on your back to propel you forwards an extra step as you yelp with laughter, "If you're gonna make fun of me I don't want to hear it."
HEYYY I HAVE AN IDEA so like hiccup with saying “girlfriend?!?!?! That’s my WIFE” when someone says something along the lines of “tell your girlfriend to get out of my face” after they insult either reader or hiccup or just something like that
She is my wife!
Hiccup x Fem!reader
Since the words girlfriend and wife were specifically used, I assumed that the reader is feminine.
I had something of a fight with my father, and I had the urge to punch an authority figure, which may or may not have slipped through in this fic.
Warnings: None in particular, there are some curses and the one horny thought from the reader.
You didn’t really get why you were here. No, that was a lie. You understood why you were here.
One of the tribes allied with Berk had a dragon problem and as the “heralds” of the dragon-human peace and cooperation you and the dragon riders were expected to interfere in order to solve the problem.
That and Hiccup would use any excuse to get out of Berk for a little while. Plus, it was hard to really entrust that task to anyone else.
Politically speaking, sending someone other than Hiccup or the dragon riders could be viewed as Berk looking down on the tribe asking for help. On the other hand, someone inexperienced could make matters worse with the dragons in question.
There was Valka, you supposed, she met all of the criteria as far as experience and status were concerned, but while her dragon skills were unmatched—except for maybe Hiccup— her people skills could still use some work.
So, yes, generally, you understood why you were here instead of someone else. You even understood why Hiccup had insisted you join him. Not that you would have let him go alone. He was prone to getting in trouble when left alone for prolonged periods of time.
What you didn’t understand was why you were having a strategic meeting with this tribe about the dragon problem. Usually, you would go to wherever you were called to calm down the dragons, inspect the area for what is causing them to act out aggressively and proceed to lecture the villagers about what, why and how the problem occurred in the first place.
You have been here for what felt like hours listening to the chief go on and on about things you were far too bored and uninterested in to pay attention to. You were sure that you zoned out at some point, only coming back to reality after Hiccup had taken hold of your hand, tagging at it softly.
“So glad to see that you are back with us.” The sarcastic voice of the man sitting across from you rang in your ears. He was clearly displeased with your lack of attention.
“Yeah… um, my mind drifted for a moment. I apologise.” You said not really feeling apologetic, but trying to appease the man on the other side of the table nonetheless.
“It is alright.” His voice sounded rough and aged. “Not everyone can follow along with complex discussions.” He smiled condescendingly.
The bastard wasn’t even trying to be tactful with his remarks.
“Must be all the repetitions and dancing around the subject.” You said quickly, stopping Hiccup from answering.
Your hold on his hand tightened as he turned to look at you. He looked confused and a little concerned. Why were you stopping him? There was no reason to indulge this charade if this was how you were gonna be treated.
You ran your thumb across his arm soothingly, holding his gaze, looking calm, trying to show that it’s okay.
Hiccup’s lips pressed to a thin line, tightening his own hand around yours.
“Perhaps you lack your chief’s ability to comprehend difficult words.” The chief’s voice ruined the tender moment.
There was a meaning to be had here. Someone of your station shouldn’t be present in a meeting between chiefs. Other than the obvious insult to your intelligence. Again.
Oh, so that’s how he wants to play it. “Perhaps the problem is that, unlike my chief—” Gods, calling Hiccup by his title felt beyond wrong—“you lack the ability to be concise and to the point.”
Hiccup watched the exchange with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. So much for diplomatic relations.
“Watch your words, little girl.” The chief raised his voice, getting up from his chair, wood scraping against wood from the force.
“Or what?” You get up, placing your hands on the table. Your eyes pinned on his, extending a challenge that, realistically speaking… you… would lose.
Hiccup let out a tiny groan as he also got up, placing a hand in front of each of you, trying to keep you both apart. “Aaaalright. I think we are getting way off subject. How about we take a break and get back after we all have—”
“You need to be more mindful of your people, Hiccup.” The chief turned his attention to Hiccup. “I can understand that love can make you want to be lenient, but even your loved ones are not above your rule.” He spoke with such conviction, like he was trying to teach and reprimand Hiccup at the same time. “You might be new to this, but you need to learn. Don’t insult your father’s legacy, boy.”
Your mouth dropped open. The entire hut fell silent for a second.
“I’m gonna wipe the floor with you. You sad old man.” You said as you moved to jump across the table towards certain death.
“NO!” Hiccup yelled quickly, wrapping his arms around your middle. “No, no, no, no.” He kept repeating as he tried to move towards him.
“Is this how you establish the law, boy? Get your girlfriend out of my face!” The chief yelled again. “And since she is so prone to acting wild, it is best to have her wait outside with the dragons.” He added, just as Hiccup had managed to get you away from the table and to his side.
“First of all.” Hiccup’s voice rose as well. “She is my wife.” He emphasised. “And let me be clear that in this situation, you are asking us for help. It would be best to remember that every indulgence and goodwill that has been extended towards you that has nothing to do with your dragon problem has been because of my wife.”
The chief was looking at Hiccup, surprised. You, on the other hand, felt rather smug about this particular turn of events.
“We have wasted enough time here. We will deal with the actual reason for our visit now.”
He was so hot like this… You are definitely fucking him once you are back on Berk.
…
Damn your brain does not know how timing works.
He moved to leave the hut, taking hold of your hand and leading you outside with him. You threw a pleased look at the chief as you moved and batted your eyes, letting the feeling of victory radiate from you and further the old man’s shock.
Hiccup kept walking after you were both outside, not slowing his pace or letting go of your hand. Once he deemed that good enough, he suddenly stopped and turned to face you.
He looked like he was about to say something, looking like a storm was held at the edge of his tongue. Instead, he just let out a deep exhale and let his head fall to your shoulder.
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Really? I thought I held back for quite a long time.” You said, running your fingers through his hair.
Hiccup let out a weak laugh, putting his hands around your waist. “Still though…”
“Still what? I think I did us both a favour. Now we can get on to doing what we actually came for and then go home.” You said feigning innocence.
“You will be the end of all of Berk’s diplomatic relations.” He mumbled, giving you a quick peck on the lips.
“Not all,” you said, giving him another kiss. “Just the annoying ones.”
you would know. you're the one who has to experience it firsthand, after all. of course—you love hiccup dearly, the man is simply a lovesick fool at your hands. seemingly always has been.
though . . . you'd argue he loves you a little too much.
his fixation on you should be disturbing. it really should; but it isn't, and at some point, you grew to enjoy it. an absolute sweetheart in public, yet he's the same one stealing your panties. the same one who eats you out with hearts in his eyes, who whimpers when you pull at his hair just right, who overstimulates himself just to please you. and because his pull out game is shit.
and gods, you wouldn't trade the poor man for anything. probably because he'd burn down and ruin countless lands trying to get to you, but that's beside the point.
𓏲ּ ❤︎ toothless sneaks into you and hiccup's bed, much to hiccup's annoyance!
༯ genderneutral!reader ⸝⸝ u and hiccup share a bed ⸝⸝ toothless is a third wheel ⸝⸝ bad writing ⸝⸝ lowercase intended ⸝⸝ artist is unknown, if you know who made this fanart, please let me know.
your eyes blearily adjusted to the sun rays peeking through the curtains, the feeling of wet pressure up against your hand. your finger twitched, the scaly nose shoving itself to where your hand was grazing. “toothless,” you chuckled, flattening your hand to slide up against his head. the small little head spikes, that shockingly felt like rubber. toothless purred, his bright green eyes shining in the morning light.
toothless moved his body up further, a gummy smile, on the night-fury's face. “hi, sweetie.” you cooed, scratching his chin with the tips of your nails. toothless cooed back; having no care for the other objects on the bed, toothless clambered his way over the plush of the bed and . . . hiccup, legs pushing hiccup down into the bed. hiccup groaned, “toothless!” hiccup's eyes, blinked open, narrowing in as toothless purred under your touch, not caring about hiccup's annoyance.
“toothless, get out!” hiccup cries in annoyance, pushing himself up to shove toothles's side. toothless let out an offended growl, “hiccup,” you chided, flitting your eyes towards him. “he's fine, don't be mean.” toothless purred in content, curling into your hands, turning to stick his tongue out at hiccup. hiccup gaped, his mouth wide open, “he's manipulating you!” hiccup sighed, “he just stuck his tongue out at me,”
you grinned, childishly, placing your hands under toothless jaw to present his face to hiccup. “this angel?” you questioned, kissing the edge of toothless's nose. toothles's tail smacking the side of bed at the praise. “you're both so annoying,” hiccup rolled his eyes, scooting over to lay next to toothless. throwing his arm around the both of you, toothless eyes closing in delight at the attention. you giggled at the night fury's antics, “you love us,” toothless gave a small hum of agreement. hiccup sighed good naturedly, shaking his head, tightening his arm around the both of you.
The forge was empty, the only light coming from the dying embers in the hearth. You were sitting on the worktable, legs crossed, watching Hiccup work on some little contraption he’d long forgotten the purpose of. His focus was admirable… and entirely too tempting.
“Y’know,” you murmured, your voice low, “you could take a break.”
He looked up, distracted, a smudge of soot streaked across his jaw. “A break? I’m almost—”
You slid off the table and stepped in close, your fingers brushing his arm. “Almost what?” you teased, smiling up at him. “Done? Or completely overworking yourself again?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but you caught his tunic and tugged, just enough to throw him off balance and make him stumble forward, his hands instinctively catching your waist.
“[____]…” he warned softly, though his voice had gone husky, his breath warm against your cheek.
“Mm?” You tilted your head, eyes sparkling. “What’s wrong, Chief?”
His resolve cracked. The word Chief always did it.
He kissed you, not hesitant this time like before, but deep and hungry, like he’d been holding back for days. His hand slid up your back, fingers splaying beneath your hair as his other hand gripped your hip with just enough pressure to make you gasp. You felt his cold hand through your shirt, sharp against the heat of his touch.
You smiled against his lips. “Guess you’re finally taking that break.”
He chuckled, the sound rough and low, before leaning in again, kissing you harder, deeper, until your knees hit the table behind you and he lifted you onto it without breaking the kiss. His breath hitched when you pulled at his hair, and for a second, the world was nothing but heat, the smell of smoke, and the sound of his name falling from your lips like a secret.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathless, he whispered, voice unsteady but full of that Hiccup charm:
“Okay… maybe I should take more breaks like that.”
