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GHOST PIRATE *ੈ✩‧₊˚ h. haddock x reader

summary : snotlout mocking you for your eye scar might unintentionally be the best thing that could have happened to you.

word count : 7.3k words

tags : fluff, rtte!hiccup, fem!reader, friends to something more, awkward romance, falling-down-and-getting-catched cliché, first kisses, getting caught, reader has a scar on her right eye which she covers, reader is like gothi's assistant, reader isn't adept at social situations, reader is quite oblivious, one throwaway sex joke at the end, snotlout's a little aggressive but when is he not, no use of y/n or (name)

author's note : why are there such a shortage of rtte hiccup x reader's MAN i am thirsty for some :(( anyway, this was fun writing, rtte hiccup is my roman empire dreamworks did not need to make him that fine

Having that scar over your eye had always made you insecure. It wasn't just because it looked horrible, there were other reasons for that. One of them being that it was a reminder that your face wouldn't look that same again, always having that ugly patch.

The other grounds for it were the way that Vikings—also known as (pardon the bluntness) meatheads with a hard comprehension for being. . . particularly emotionally adept—didn't know how to mask their emotions, and that the only expression that would grace their face when they see you was always in pitiful smiles, and more often than not, thinly masked disgust.

You would think that now that Berkian's learned to be in peace with literal Dragons, they'd also learn to be more emotionally sensitive, but you'd guess wrong.

But going back to Dragons. Those big, ferocious creatures had always made you antsy. Especially when you were younger—with all the ghost-stories that the kids would always rumor around, and the dead-man's tales that the older people in Berk would sing about in the Great Hall, it had given you the chills. You were all too scared by them.

Maybe a bit too scared.

A bit too scared that when you were mature enough—mature being sixteen years old—to be ordered to fight them off in one of their ambushes before they were domesticated, all those anecdotes and tales fled back to you, making your legs tremble then go stiff.

With the opening you had given it, one of the vicious reptiles had tried to bite your face clean off. Without Gothi's help—or more like her trusty staff and her good swing—you were sure you would've died.

But still, after all these years, you aren't too sure if that was a good thing. Now you're left with a wound that would never go away, a timeless reminder that you were frightened, and you didn't do anything to protect yourself.

A unaging memento of weakness.

It was all too much for a teenager like yourself, always being perceived as a poor soul, seen as an unfortunate example for Vikings that not thinking fast enough would wind up to look like you.

So, you did what all teenagers do when they didn't want to confront something—you hide it away. And that's exactly why you're wearing an eyepatch, well—a makeshift one, thanks to Gothi, who made you a simple cloth eyepatch. Gods bless her soul.

You looked more like an injured survivor, but it was better than people seeing you like you were some kind of weirdo—as if walking around with an eyepatch wasn't any less weird, but the Vikings found it less odd.

But still, jeers from your age group didn't cease. They lessened, but the subject topic of their jokes had shifted. From you being too weak of a Viking—if you could still call yourself a Viking—to being name called as a pirate. All of it just made you more inclined to stay inside.

Well, it was better than being mocked as weak, so you take that as a win.

And that's how it's currently been now, with you in the Great Hall, and with your exceptionally unfortunate luck, the only table vacant being next to a group of teenagers.

Oh, It's those Dragon Riders.

You haven't seen them in a while—you've presumed it was because they were busy at some place that you overheard them calling Dragon's Edge. But even with the lengthened time of not seeing them, you still remembered their names. They probably didn't know yours, but you didn't mind.

You were never really close to them, not that you bothered to be close—you didn't ever see yourself being in their circle, but you had hoped they didn't have the same reactions to you like the others when they notice you eating at the table next to theirs.

You wished they didn't sense your presence; or more specifically your eyepatch concealing your scar, but when they did notice, their hushed dialogue—is it still called hushed dialogue if you're talking this loudly?—had shifted to you, and who you were.

"She's pretty odd, when I first saw her, I thought she was supposed to be a pirate." You had heard Snotlout's voice boom from their friend's table next to your empty one. Even without looking at the Viking, you could already tell from the dripping ignorance in his voice that he was smiling, as if he was proud that he had called you that.

You didn't care enough to turn your head, just continuing to shovel food in your mouth, but you had heard a clear thonk! of wood hitting something metalic—you'd presume a mug making hard contact with his helmet.

"Ow." The boy whined.

"Sorry, my arm cramped." Astrid had apologized, with the tone of not being apologetic at all.

"Snotlout." You had heard Hiccup's voice warn his cousin. Even if Hiccup tried to warn him, it would be fruitless, because you knew Vikings like Snotlout—and Vikings like him didn't stop with just warnings. But still, the gesture had still made you smile.

"What? It's just strange, y'know? She barely talks too, like some kind of ghost."

"Snotlout, drop it." Now Astrid was trying to make him stop. You wanted to thank her for that, but maybe not now.

"What if she's some kind of ghost pirate? Like, haunting our village." Ruffnut commented.

"I heard that you could ward off ghosts with salt," Tuffnut had added.

"Ooo, does it work with ghost pirates too?" Her twin had asked, curious.

"We'll have to test it out, like an experiment." The blonde boy had raised a finger, as if to look more academically inclined.

"Okay, guys, I don't think—" Hiccup's voice had seemed nervous, but he didn't get to finish.

"Cool, let's try it." The blonde girl had entertained. The twins had gotten the salt from a bowl, a handful in both their fists, ready to lob it at you.

This time, you were actually amused enough to look at their table, observing each face, but not letting a word out.

Somewhat surprised that you had looked at them, the two Vikings had tried to cover up their mischief, one of them putting the salt in their mouth, and the other throwing it behind them, evidently covering Fishlegs and Hiccup in a good sprinkle of seasoning.

You were quite confused—more so, a bit peeved that Snotlout was talking about you like that, but you didn't pay attention to it too much. Turning back to your food, they seemed to match your actions as well—but not with Snotlout getting the last word in, albeit a little bit whispered, but not enough to be quiet.

"See? I'm just saying; no talking, no expression—Ghost behavior, I tell you." Snotlout leaned into the table to whisper, but it really did seem futile with that loud mouth of his.

Not wanting to hear any more of his or anyone else’s slight mockery, you stood up, the long bench chair you were sitting on skidding as you push out of your sitting position and walking out the Great Hall, but not before burning a glare at the teens.

You really didn’t mean to scowl at the whole table, you were only going to throw a dirty look at Snotlout.

It genuinely wasn't your intention to, especially with how the other teens had done nothing remotely wrong—some even trying to halt the discussion—but with just one eye as your vision, you couldn't help but just look at them all with a stink eye.

But you didn't care anymore, you just wanted to get away. You went to the Great Hall to eat for Thor's sake, not to be gossiped about like a spectacle. Stomping off to the exit, you didn't care enough to hear the scolding Snotlout and The Twins—but mainly just the sable-haired Viking—had to hear.

"Great job with that, Snotlout. Now she stormed off," Astrid chided.

"What did I do?"

"I think we should apologize, or one of us at least." Fishlegs meekly let out, finally speaking after the girl had walked out on all of them. All the while that this was happening, Ruffnut seemed to be spewing out the salt she'd hidden in her mouth at the side of the table, trying to blow raspberries to remove all of the saline taste from her mouth.

Astrid had looked to Hiccup, with them locking eyes. She had silently gestured for him, nodded to the door and her eyebrows raising, basically saying 'Dude, this is your chance, c'mon'. The brunet Viking had quickly understood, slightly nodding.

"Pretty sure you're right Fishlegs. I think I should catch up with her guys, she seemed pretty upset." Hiccup had already started to get up from his seat, starting to jog to the large door of the Great Hall.

They had watched him speed-walk away, hoping that he could reach her before he loses sight of her. The Dragon Riders had gone back to eating, with The Twins still trying to goof around, throwing their food at each other, and Fishlegs reading while scooping food to his mouth.

"I still don't understand what I said wrong," Snotlout had muttered, pushing his soup around in his bowl.

"Snotlout, I swear if you don't stop talking, I will hit you harder with my mug." Astrid threatened, who was right next to him.

"I thought you said that was an accident?"

"Keep talking and my fist will accidentally punch you."

You were speed walking with a tired expression on your face. You didn't even get to eat a lot of your food. Why did you have to storm off like that? You've endured much more scathing insults, but you suppose it hurt more that they were talking about you literally on the next table over. Now you're hungry and annoyed.

Just great.

You had almost made it to the ascending stairs, the way to Gothi's hut. You were about to go up before you heard someone try to call you, paired with the sound of quick pattering steps and the clanking of metal hitting the ground.

You presumed that it was Hiccup, since no one really had a metal leg in Berk, and that distinct voice he had that singled him out from the other Vikings. You looked over your shoulder before turning your whole body, seeing him catch up with you before putting his hands on his knees in exhaustion.

"Hey! Wait a sec—wow you can walk really fast," He uttered between breaths.

". . . Uh, hi?" You were entirely unsure of what to say. You'd never been in this type of situation before.

He had dusted his knees off and stood normally, his exhaustion finally subsiding, he waved awkwardly.

"Hey there, I wanted to apologize—Snotlout's just, he's the type of guy that just. . . says things, y'know? Don't take it too seriously," He shrugged.

"Don't be sorry, it's fine," You waved him off, dismissed his apology, and turned back to walk up the stairs. But your ascension up had been paused, especially with what Hiccup said.

"No, it's not, actually. Please just let me apologize about him, 'cause I know he won't."

"I assure you, it's fine." You insisted, but it genuinely wasn't. But you didn't want someone trying to apologize to you for someone else's actions.

You had tried to walk up quicker, but he seemed just fine matching your pace.

"At least just— let me accompany you up to Gothi's hut, as an apology of sorts. . .? Please?" Hiccup seemed to be unsure in what he was saying, you were 100 times confident that he didn't plan what he was saying to you, just blurting out what came to his mind to stop you from leaving him in the dust.

You found it amusing, so you allowed it. Now, he was walking with you up to Gothi's.

But what you didn't find amusing—was him trying to make small talk. The other people at Berk never really tried making dialogue with you, but maybe that's also your fault, with how jaded and distant you seemed from them. The only time they ever talked to you was to voice their concerns about their health and ask you to help them.

So now here you were, trying to reply as normal as possible to Hiccup's questions.

"Are you uh— hurt anywhere?"

"Huh?" Your steps slowed, with Hiccup matching yours.

Then you understood what he meant. He was asking if you were injured because you were going up to Gothi's. Your steps had paced normal again, with Hiccup trying to match your steps.

"Ooh, no. I'm just her assistant. . . I think so? It's not official, but it's kind of like that, I guess. I take care of the hurt patients who come up here if she's away."

"Oh, that's cool."

"Uh-huh. . ." You replied, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"You stay up there a lot, right? I don't see you a lot anymore." He smiled a little.

Anymore?

You didn't want to interrupt this casual dialogue, so you reply normally.

"Uh, yeah, I— I do. I pretty much moved all my stuff there so the others wouldn't see me much. Surprisingly, not everyone wants to see this," You pointed at your eyepatch.

"Really?" Hiccup listened, the way he looked so focused on you made you want to say things even more.

"Yeah, who knew? I guess not everyone wants to see a hideous scar when they go on to do their morning jobs. Crazy, right?" Your sarcasm was dripping from your voice, but you went on even more.

"It's not even exposed anymore, I covered it, but they're still weirded out. I'm pretty sure this time they're the weird ones at this point." Your arms had raised in action, expressive as ever.

Hiccup's hums of agreement and gentle smile had spurred you on even more to rant. You weren't sure what it was—maybe it's because finally someone had wanted to listen and look at you like a normal person, not some pitiful weak Viking.

"Might as well just bandage my whole face so they don't see me. I think I should change my eyepatch if they're still feeling odd about me, maybe that's it, I dunno. . . I don't really have the skill for it, though." You had shrugged.

"But I swear, if they still look at me funny when I do wear something else, I think I'll just give up and accept my title as a ghost pirate and haunt our village—just like your friends were saying." You looked at him, concluding your rant. Hiccup softly chuckled at your attempt at a joke, and it made you heart smile.

You both were almost at your mentor's porch when he went silent, as if he was thinking of something. Just a couple of steps left, and you were there. You were pretty satisfied with how you both weren't speaking, just a soft, gentle tranquility accompanying both of you.

But then, Hiccup had piped up.

"Well. . . If you were, let's just say, hypothetically; you had the chance to change it, what would it look like?"

You were puzzled by the random question. Was he trying to entertain you? You looked at him, and looked away in thought, before going back to look at green observant eyes.

"Well hypothetically speaking; I guess I'd make it out of leather with something to cushion it inside? That way it wouldn't really hurt on my skin." You had mused, your steps slowing as you had made it to the last step of your mentor's stairs.

"And maybe some kind of design on it? I feel like it would look nice if I put our tribe's insignia, I'm not sure, but maybe just something. . ." Your eyebrows furrowed in focus, your thumb rubbing against the pads of your fingers, a habit that helped you to think.

"Nice-looking, I guess. Maybe it'd take attention away from. . . Yeah." Your body went lax, feeling kind of shy. You realized you were getting too into it, remembering it was just a hypothetical question.

"Well, I'll be sure to remember that." He didn't seem mind one bit, that you went on a whole speech, and just smiled back at your timid stature. You didn't know what he meant by what he said, but you smiled back at him anyway.

You had made it to the top. He had paused a step before you, now slightly looking up at you. You had turned around, fiddling with your hands.

"So. . ." You didn't really know what to say next. See you around? Does this make us friends? Your apology's accepted? You weren't really prepared to being put in a social situation like this. Well, you weren't prepared for any social situation for that, with how little you talked with others, but anyway.

Thankfully, Hiccup had spoke, because you were sure if you had enough silence, you'd just end up saying something silly.

"I'll see you, around then. . .?" He had gone up the last step so he could be at your height, and rubbed the nape of his neck, waiting for your reply.

"Uhm— yeah! Thank you, by the way— for the. . . Coming with me, I— I guess," You sputtered, but had recovered, a soft grin with crinkled eyes lay on your face.

"I'll be going now. . . Yep," You pointed behind you and started to walk backwards, hopefully reaching Gothi's door. But that plan would fall flat when you tripped over some stray bottle that had fallen from the table.

"Woah!"

The split second you had before you fell you saw from your peripheral that if you stumbled just a little bit more, you'd fall off the tower.

Just incredible, what a way to go.

You closed your eyes, ready for the impact of the air hitting you as you fall down, but you were surprised to feel a weight jump on you, tackling you to inches away from to edge.

"Umph!" Hiccup's voice had jolted out.

You open your eyes in caution; to see Hiccup lying on you, his head tucked in your neck. You were close—a little too close. You can smell his scent, the way his breathing pattern was heavy from lunging at you, his hair which seemed messy and unkempt from flying, but he still managed to make it look good.

"Gothi should really add a safety railing," He mumbled into your neck. It gave you goosebumps.

You expected yourself to be weirded out, but you weren't. You were just flustered, now thinking about it. Hiccup practically glomped you—yes, to safety, but that wasn't the point—and you were both stuck in this position, with the Dragon Rider still lying on you.

You supposed he felt how tense you were—assuming you felt odd in the position you were in and tried to prop himself up with his hand.

"Oh! Yeah sorry," Unintentionally, he had grabbed your waist in support, maybe a wee bit hard, earning him a surprised oh! from you.

Realizing his mistake, he let go immediately, as if he had touched a hot furnace. But given that it was his only means of support to give him balance, him letting go had consequently made him fall onto you again, his head almost meeting yours, but missing.

But what didn't miss though, was his lips falling onto your cheek. It felt surreal, something you've never experienced—a kiss, happening literally right before your eyes. Accidental, yes, but it still made you blush furiously. But it seems as if he didn't notice, or chose not to, picking your comfort first.

"Oh Thor, sorry about that, let me just," Hiccup tried to get up again, his hand already trying to prop itself on the floor, but you stopped him, grabbing his forearm.

"No, just— just stay still. I'll move instead." He nodded bashfully at your request, you guess he also felt nervous feeling the gravity of the position you're in.

You nudged his leg with your own, so he could move it up, and then you maneuvered yourself out.

You both stand up, dusting yourself off while he fixed his tunic that went askew when he was laying on you.

"She really should add a railing," You reply.

"Yeah,"

Again, a calm silence had covered you both, a lingering of eyes at each other, observing the latter.

You didn't want to keep him longer, maybe he was busy. So, you sent him off.

"Now this is officially 'i'll see you later'." You threw finger guns at him as you shyly grinned and waved, the gestures reciprocated by the brunet Viking, before you went into Gothi's hut, the last glimpse of him walking down the stairs before you closed the door.

You smile to yourself as you look at the door, before leaning your head on it. You placed a delicate hand on your right cheek, where his lips had accidentally placed themselves on.

First kiss. Cheek kiss, yeah, but who cares?

Your smile grew wide as you quietly chuckled. If anyone saw you right now, they'd probably think you were being weird—well, weirder. But you were in the comforting silence of Gothi's hut, with no one to perceive you.

Turning around, you swear you has actually jumped out of your skin, your joyous expression replaced with one of shock.

"GAH! Gothi, you. . ." You clenched your heart, before trying to even your heartbeat.

"Really need to make a sound so I know you're there. I almost died," Your hand had dropped back down. You were exaggerating clearly, Gothi knew that as well, rolling her eyes. She had gotten off the stool she was on and nodded to the door, walking up to you.

Having enough time spent with the old woman, you already knew she was gesturing for you to ask what happened out there.

"Oh, I just tripped over a bottle, I almost fell down the tower, y'know? Hiccup was there with me too; he was apologizing for something Snotlout did." You had explained, a smile had graced your face when you brought the Dragon Rider up.

"I didn't want him to apologize, but he insisted, so he accompanied me up here. So, back to me falling—He helped me so I wouldn't fall from the tower, he practically lunged at me. He's pretty. . . nice. He's got a nice smile, too. I haven't seen him or the others in a while, it was a nice change. Anyway," You had walked over to the shelf of books the hut had, trying to find a book on botany to brush up your knowledge. You were trying to focus, looking at the titles on the spines of the books, before you felt Gothi stare at you, a knowing stare paired with a growing smile as if she was teasing you.

You looked back to meet her gaze and smiled innocently.

"Okay, What?" You had giggled, as if you didn't know. But you knew she was teasing you. Maybe you really shouldn't have talked about him like you were crushing on him.

Not that you weren't.

Gothi raised her eyebrow, still grinning at her assistant, not believing it for a second.

"He's just a friend, Gothi—a passerby, even. Nothing more." You concluded, busying yourself with actually finding the book, and you eventually did. Pulling the book out with a swift motion before going to a vacant chair on her dining table, opening to a random page to read with the book close to your face, trying to remain as unaffected as possible.

Gothi had seemed let it go, coming up to her student and patting her head, a comforting habit they had grown to enjoy in the comfort of her home.

The Viking healer had gone up the stairs, supposedly to feed the Terrible Terrors. Once she was out of your peripheral vision, you had leaned back on the back of the seat, book covering a quarter of your face as you looked up to the ceiling.

What the Thor just happened?

You tried to recall the latest events that had occurred with the brunet boy, looking back to the most memorable parts—well, most memorable to you.

You replay the moment where you both had accidentally were on the floor, especially the events after that. Your cheeks were going flush as you naturally smiled, the book being your cover, your eyes closing as you replay the moment.

He seemed like someone you'd like to be seeing more often. What was it about him that made you so. . . allured? You only had one meeting together, but why did you feel so pulled to him?

Was it because this was one of the only normal conversations that someone had treated you like a human being? No, you already felt like that with Gothi, but it was something else.

You wouldn't deny that Hiccup was. . . For a lack of better words, an attractive dude. He grew in well, his height really elevating him, paired with his babyface growing more chiseled, evolving him from a cute and charming boy who was also quite handsome.

But just because you liked him now for that, doesn't mean you didn't have a crush on him before. It was before every one had actually believed in him.

You'd watch from afar as he courageously proven his worth, showing that he is so much more than what the village painted him to be. He was. . . really cute back then too. And the way he was sarcastic and witty, you liked that as well. You would never tell him back then about it, and you probably never tell him now.

Sighing into the book, you shake your head in disapproval.

What am I thinking? I need to read this, not think about him like some kind of lovesick yak.

You sit upright now, actually retaining the information of the contents in the book, but not before putting an imaginary tab in your thoughts to revisit the subject about the brunet Viking.

"Gothi told me you needed my help?" You stick your head in first, peeking inside before going in fully. Walking into the Blacksmith's Shop, you saw Hiccup, working away at some new invention for him and Toothless.

He had turned to you, his eyes slightly crinkling with a satisfied smile.

"Yeah, I do," He walked some steps to where the tools had been stored, and pulled out something you couldn't tell what it was, his body covering the tool.

He faced you again, before speaking.

"C'mere." He spoke quickly, now unraveling the hidden object—a measuring tape.

Huh?

"What? Hiccup, what are you doing?" You asked, tiredness coating your voice, crossing your arms and tilting you head slightly.

"I need to measure you. Now, come here." He beckoned again, gesturing to you to come closer. He had put more pressure in the command, but smiling gently to not look like he was trying to be domineering—not to say you didn't like it.

You had rolled your eyes playfully, dropping your arms and marching up to him, a little too close, your chest just mere inches apart.

But he didn't tell you to step back.

"Measure me for what?" You shrugged in confusion, but he didn't answer your question, he just gave you another request.

"Stay still, okay?" Without another beat, he hovers both arms on your shoulders. If his arms were a little lower, placed on the curve of your shoulder. But you wouldn't mind. You imagined that they looked like they would fit there. As if it was in its rightful place.

Fiddling with the measuring tape to get the right side, he instinctively leaned into the side, hovering over your face. You observed him, your eyes following his face as he was working, a little too observed—you'd say yourself, noticing the scattered freckles kissed on his face, the small cut a few inches under his lips.

You never noticed he had a scar on his chin; it looked quite cute.

A little shocked—more like flustered—you had lifted your head an inch, as a means to back away. He noticed, halting his movements and looking you in the eyes.

Locking eyes with his, those eyes. Oh, his eyes. They enraptured you; like the gentle breath of the air hitting your skin, the viridescent irises, dull like olives, yet alluring as much.

His gaze was on you, before grazing over your features—the way your cheeks were flushed presumably from the heat of the Blacksmith's Shop, the slow fluttering of your eyelashes as you blinked as if you were being cautious, and then your lips.

It was only for a brief moment, but as you saw his eyes glance down, your lips parted in bewilderment. He seems to have caught on, blinking quickly, slightly pursing his lips in struggle, and turning his head back to the job at hand.

The soft material of the measuring tape had wrapped around the circumference of your head, Hiccup looking as if he took a mental note, before changing the angle of the measuring tape, diagonally over your head, from the side of your head all the way to under your ear.

After finishing, he lets go of the measuring tape, and his arms drop down to his sides.

"Well. . .?" You tilted your head slightly, your arms crossing once more. It was a pass at him, as if to reignite your previous questions, hoping he understood the memo.

Rest assured he did not understand the memo.

"Well, that was it. Thanks." Shooting you a soft smile, before turning around to put what he was using back to its rightful place, before looking at you with a grin.

If Hiccup wasn't so charmingly cute with the sheepish simper of his and if he was just like all the other Vikings, you would have hit him with the closest thing in your vicinity.

Ignore the first part of your thought, you weren't supposed to be thinking about that right now.

Instead of going for the gruesome part of that pondering, you close your eyes in slight irritation.

"So, let me get this straight; you order Gothi to call me, you lie and say that you needed my help, make me walk all the way down the stairs, just to measure me?"

"Okay, I know it sounds bad right now—" Hiccups quick to defend himself, his hands raising as if to show innocence.

"More like weird, but sure," You add.

"But I swear," His arms extend to you, grabbing your shoulders delicately. It felt nice, being treated like that from him.

"It will make sense tomorrow." He squeezed your shoulders in assurance, hoping you'd believe him. It didn't make you believe him, more like make your brain short circuit that would force you to say the only thing you knew how to.

"Just trust me, okay?" He looked like a puppy, asking its owner to pet him. He looked genuine, as if he wasn't capable of treating you brashly, only carefully.

Not being able for your mind to process anything else but him clutching you on each side, combined with the way his eyes kissed your gaze, you replied with an unfocused agreement.

"O— Okay," You smile at his kind eyes, his own lips reciprocating.

And that's where it ended. You didn't really remember exiting the shop, or walking back, just laying yourself on the bed, the cushion of your pillow the only thing bringing you out of your trance.

You still couldn't understand why he brought you all the way down just to measure your head, but you didn't want to complain—nope, scratch that. You didn't have the mind to complain.

Maybe it's 'cause of your teenage brain, the hormones in your mind thinking about boys, the most decent one out of them, your head full of him even when he wasn't there. Yes, just science, definitely because of that.

But then your thought floats back to the previous events; his gaze on yours, looking at your facial features, before going to your lips, then going back again to his work, slightly flushed on his cheeks from the heat of the Forge.

You smile at the thought.

Yep, just hormones.

"Just keep having your eyes— uh, eye closed," Hiccup had almost tripped over himself trying to drag you up the stairs with your vision blocked, especially since you were just walking aimlessly in the direction he was leading you to.

"If this is something stupid again and you're measuring my arm's next, Hiccup, I will throw something at you." Your one hand was still covering you left eye, with the other holding his hand.

That snark from you didn't earn an eyeroll from him, but a soft chuckle.

"I promise it's not,"

You wanted to smile, the feeling of his fingertips brushing against yours felt sparking, and the way he squeezed them when in assurance that he was still there made you melt, but you didn't want to focus on that right now.

"Okay, we're here." You feel the terrain under your feet change, the stone clacking on your boots now turning soft, dampened. You suppose he took you inside somewhere.

"That was good, but we're going to have to go up the stairs again, okay?"

Getting tired of this whole charade, you finally let down your hand.

"Okay, Hiccup, what are we. . ."

That was as far as you could get in your sentence, your attention now focused on the location you were in.

It seemed to be the Chief's hut, where Hiccup and Stoick reside, and you were at the front of the stairs. You've never been in here, but with the small bits and pieces you've seen from the moment the door was wide open, you could pinpoint that he had took you here.

"No wait I—" He had panicked, the other hand that was free going behind him.

"Why are we here. . .?" You questioned as you looked at him, and then the hand behind his back.

"And what's behind you?" You tilted your head, trying to take a peek at what he was hiding, but he just shuffled back to hide it more.

"Nothing, my hand's just cramping, y'know. . .?" He laughed, and that was definitely what made you believe he was lying, your face going deadpan.

"Hiccup." Your tone had gone into a warning, arms crossed, and your eyebrow raised.

Looking at you once more to check if there was a sliver of a chance that you'd let it go, he sighed, his shoulders dropping. He slowly let his hand out, with something in his fist.

"It was supposed to be a surprise in my room where it's private, but I guess it still is secluded here."

He opened his palm and presented it to you.

An eyepatch. It was crafted from leather, a nice sleek brown color, with a star-like embossing, reminding you of the stars of a compass. Turning the eyepatch around, you see a soft fabric, supposed to cushion around the eyepatch to prevent harsh rubbing on the skin. You turned it around and examined it more as he talked again.

"I tried to make it to what you wanted—"

You lifted your head and looked at him, then to the side in thought as you recalled what he was talking about. He was listening that time. He was taking account of your ideas, and he was actually listening to you.

You were silent and turned your eyes back at him as he explained more.

"If you don't— If you don't like it. . . I can make it again," He mistook your silence for disgust, and rubbed his arm in nervousness.

"Hiccup, no," You stepped closer to him, and took both his hands in yours, the eyepatch forgotten about as you held it between his hands.

"I like it." Your grin grew as his face had started to contort into relief.

"Y— You do?" He was smiling now, and that just made you giggle.

"Yes, I do!" You couldn't contain what you felt, and clutched his hands in yours in assurance, earning you a small kiss of red on his cheeks as he smiled back.

"I like it so much, I could kiss— kiss you. . ." Your joyous face had contorted into horror, your eyes avoiding his immediately, with your voice weakening at the last part when you realize what you just said.

Hiccup's face had also matched yours, but not horror, with shock. Like something he could've never expected came out of your mouth.

"What?" He uttered. His face was unreadable, but that just made you all the more upset.

"Sorry, that was. . . weird. I'll go, " You dismissed yourself quickly and had immediately let go of the hold of his hands, but he had immediately snatched them back in his grasp.

The unexpected action had made your troubled face look to him, and you were surprised to see his painted with worry and panic.

"Don't go, okay? I wouldn't. . ." He hesitated with his choice of words, making you curious.

"You wouldn't. . .?" You waited for him to say what he wanted patiently, but what he said made your shoulders go lax, relieved.

"I said I wouldn't. . . mind," He mumbled the last word, but you heard it loud and clear. It felt confusing, but you were happy nonetheless trying to put the pieces together.

He wouldn't mind. . . Kissing you?

It gave your stomach literal flutters, as if multiple Night Terrors had taken refuge in there, flying about.

You didn't want to assume, you wanted him to say it.

"What?" You acted oblivious, a smile gracing your face.

"I said I wouldn't mind," He muttered it with more confidence, but still with a tad bit of hesitance.

"You. . . Wouldn't mind what?" Your eyebrows furrowed in faux confusion.

He sighed in slight irritation, but he felt like he was being teased this time.

"Do I really have to say it all, out loud?" He said with deadpan, and you nodded eagerly, the mask of confusion pulled off.

He held your hands and pulled you closer, his eyes meeting your gaze. He understood now that you were just acting confused.

"I wouldn't mind you kissing me, okay?" He smiled, and you mirrored him, slightly laughing and nodding.

"You get it now? I even said it all out loud for you—"

He was cut off, the feeling of your lips on his had made his voice die in his throat, with his eyes fluttering close. You didn't plan it, but the way he looked in the light of the nearby crackling fire had graced his had made him look so. . . Kissable. You couldn't help it.

You stayed in that position for a few seconds, before you pulled away, his hands still intertwined with yours.

"I get it now, crystal clear." You taunted, a grin and a small breathy chuckle leaving you.

But he didn't reply, only a smile expressing that he was as happy as you. Before you could say anything else, he pulled you in again. One hand leaving yours to cradle your cheek.

This kiss lasted longer, and you both pulled away only mere inches to see each other. The way you both looked ecstatic, your grins and crinkled eyes looking at each other, as if you could stay with him forever.

But this moment didn't last forever, with the door suddenly bursting open, revealing Hiccup's burly, large, and intimidating father, Stoick and seeing the rather incriminating position you both were put in.

You immediately pulled away from each other, as if you both were the same polarity of a magnet, trying to cover yourselves up and salvage what was left of both your dignities.

"So, thanks Hiccup for. . . Helping me with that—" Dusting yourselves off as you went to the door to exit, Hiccup trailing behind you.

"Yeah, it's fine, it wasn't a big deal—" He waved you off.

"I really should go now, I think Gothi's calling me right about now. . . Oh, hi Chief, didn't see you there. . .!" You quickly greet, your pitch going a bit higher as you scurry out of the space between the Chief and the doorway.

Stoick had greeted you, a gruff 'Hello' sufficing and finally moving so his son could follow you up to the porch of the door, watching the whole scene unravel.

You had started walking away, but not before looking back and waving goodbye.

"Uhm— goodbye, Hiccup," You smiled as you waved, your cheeks flushed from the embarrassment and the heat of the moment that had just happened.

Hiccup wasn't looking too good either, his freckled face slightly kissed with red, his grin a little dopey, weakly waving back.

You had made it far enough from the hut that you were alone with your thoughts.

What just happened?

You couldn't comprehend where a lot of it came from, but you knew one thing, and it made you giddy;

This was the blooming start of something new between you two.

BONUS ⋆˚✿˖°

Today was one of the best days of Hiccup's life—he kissed you, the girl he had a crush on his whole teenage life, and you like him. You actually liked him back.

And not just being one of the best days of his life, but some of the rarest; as the patriarch of the household, Stoick the Vast, had surprisingly ate with his son at supper.

The dinner table was filled with wood clunking against each other and mouth's chewing, not wanting to address the large Bewilderbeast in the room, until it was interrupted by Stoick's rough voice.

"So, how's your girlfriend son?"

Hiccup had choked on the soup that was in his mouth, coughing quite violently.

"Dad— that wasn't— We aren't—" Hiccup tried to let out his defense, but the soup still in his throat had made it all the more harder, punching his chest to speak properly.

"It's okay, son, I understand," Stoick had put a hand in defeat.

"You're at the right age already, and I shouldn't stop you," His father shrugged, and Hiccup didn't have the energy to defend himself anymore, just letting his old man talk all he wanted to until it ended.

But what his father said next made him jump up to talk, immediately wanting this to end.

"But I guess it's time I should teach you this now son," He put a hand on his son's shoulder in affirmation.

"About fornication— or birds and the bees, whatever they call it now," He finished.

Yep, Hiccup might just implode inside right now.

He groaned and covered his ears.

"Okay, Dad, it's fine—"

"I know it won't happen, son— You're a responsible, young Viking, but all the more reason to tell you. What if something happens?" His father ignored his pleas as he shrugged.

"Okay, Dad, I think you should stop." Now covering his eyes, because he cannot believe what is actually happening right now, he lets out a big sigh as he gives up, letting his father rant about being 'safe' and knowing the 'responsibility' of their actions.

He thought of something else to let his mind wander, and it eventually led to you. He smiled under his hands, but it wasn't enough to drown out his father's lecture.

"But I know when you do, you'd be a great parent, son—" Hiccup cut his father off, groaning at him.

"Oh, Dad. . ." A tired tone lacing his voice.

But he didn't mind, because all of this happened because you kissed him. And he wouldn't take it for anything else.

Well, maybe exclude the 'birds and the bees' talk he already knew well about.

He was a teenager, after all.

lmao W for stoick tryna teach hiccup about safe sex lol, anyway hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it :3

tell me if you liked it in the comments, i love getting replies on my work ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

anyway, peace out guys 𖹭.ᐟ

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