A/N: Welp. I'm just as surprised to be here as you are. Well. You're probably not surprised. You had fair warning. I, on the other hand, have never written a lick of porn in my life nor planned to, and yet here we are.

This isn't all of it of course. I have more planned, to be completed at some indeterminable date. This is just a start.

This story will mostly be goofily Hiccstridtastic, with a small amount of help from Toothless. I'd like to think I play things relatively cute and innocent as porn goes, but there will be some kinda kinky shit later on if I get there, in the event of which I will provide a warning.

Probably nothing that will surprise YOU. Amirite?

Anyway, like all porn, you can expect glorious features such as:

1: No actual plot, just fluffy porn.

2: Beloved cartoon characters acting OOC when convenient because kinky.

3: Euphemisms. Lots and lots of euphemisms.

4: Obvious indications that the author is probably a virgin.

Now with something called "spelling" and at least a small semblance of something called "grammar". Which of course comes with the feature of "not being written by a 13 year old for once."

So anyway, here we are.

We'll start out with just a little bit of Astrid on her own. Enjoy.

How to Fix An Axe Wound with a Knife Handle

(and Other Tricks You Should Know)

Part I: Waiting

This was so boring.

Astrid made herself at home, stretching casually out over Hiccup's bed.

In a bit, he'd said. I'll be back soon, he'd said.

Way to take hours for something you said would take minutes.

She sighed. It was just her and the Night Fury. And he wasn't very interesting at the moment. At first he had seemed a little concerned with her being up in Hiccup's bedroom– maybe, she thought, it was a sort of invasion of territory. But he'd certainly got over that fast. Maybe Toothless was finally getting back to his old self again. Hiccup hadn't taken him down to Gobber's with him since the Night Fury had been surprisingly irritable around other dragons for the past few days.

Now he was an oh-so-threatening black lump in the corner, curled up on his rock. He was fast asleep, but she could tell he was still aware by the way his auricles twitched whenever she made a noise.

They twitched again, as she closed her eyes and sighed. Maybe she would take a nap too. At this rate they wouldn't have time to get anything else done around here before it was dark out.

It would probably be okay if she did. It wasn't like Stoick was going to walk in on her or anything. He was out on another Chiefly trip again, out on some other faraway island.

Her hand rested on her belly, rising and falling with her breaths. Maybe one day he would finally start letting Hiccup go do some of that Chief stuff for him. Maybe she'd be allowed to go with him too, to make sure he didn't completely screw it up. She smiled.

She liked that boy.

Her thoughts wandered. She'd never really... LIKED a boy. Not like that. Well. He couldn't exactly carry you out of a fire with bulging biceps or anything, but regardless there was something about him that put her at ease. Very smart. Very aware. Very funny. The way he always struggled to please everybody. The way he reacted when she punched him on the shoulder, or kissed him, or threw him for a loop.

Something about him was just... appealing. It was odd. He wasn't exactly the archetype of Viking aesthetics by any means. But... She didn't know. Maybe she liked that. He was small. Nothing to be afraid of.

She lowered her hands, fingers entwining boredly in the covers. Even as she smiled, she bit her lip. He was really pretty strong for a wiry thing. But he'd be no match for her. Oh no. These days he tended to get a little too sure of himself. Good thing she was there to slap him upside the head.

Or maybe one day if he was really bad, she'd just sort of pin him. To a tree, maybe. Oh, he wouldn't like that. Her mouth twisted. It would be easy. Just sort of hold him there with her elbow and listen to him complain.

She liked his voice. Soft and honest. Even when the words he spat were dripping in sarcasm.

That only made it better though, she thought. Mighty words from a skinny helpless body.

Her fingers wandered again, poking gently at the waistband of her skirt, unassumingly searching for a gap to slip under.

He would probably try his best to throw her for a while, but his warm lithe body would be like a toy in her domineering grip. If she wanted him down, he'd stay down. But maybe that's not what she wanted... Yes, she'd flip him, turn him roughly and easily over to face her, biffing the back of his head with a sweet thump against the tree.

His green eyes would be round in shock, and then he would glare and hiss in pain...

But then she would kiss him. Yes, sure. Kiss him and confuse him. He'd melt, grudgingly yet helplessly, face first and then the rest of him. His limp chest would throb, his light body relying on her completely to stay upright, and his eyes would peer cautiously into hers the way he stared into the bulging eyes of vicious dragons, ready– squinting a little in anticipation of more punishment, and yet also, in his particular way, egging her on. Challenging her to try absolutely whatever she wanted. Reassuring her that he could take it, whatever it was.

And maybe one time she would do whatever she wanted. Maybe. Just... wrestle him easily down into the bushes, tangle him up, tear him down to his shuddering pale freckled skin, and...

"Oh–"

The sound escaped her lips and she snapped them shut immediately, hearing a rustle in the corner of the room as Toothless raised his head irritably to look at her.

She paused, staring back sheepishly, right hand very much trapped almost inextricably in the tight space between her skin and her skirt, left still squeezing the blanket in frustrated longing.

The dragon's eyes widened a little, his pupils switching sizes contemplatively, uttering an inquisitive rumble.

"Mind your own business!" she managed, pulling up the covers to hide herself, and then turning her head away. She had no intention of stopping. Not then. Not for some dumb dragon. In fact the movement of the covers only pulled her harder into her fantasy, and she quickly forgot about the staring dragon as she suddenly remembered exactly whose bed she was currently lounging in.

She panted again, her heart fluttering as her toes curled up in her boots, her fingers squeezed tenderly between her thighs. She was in his bed. Hiccup's bed. She was in the Chief's house, stretched across the son of the Chief's bed, and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, maybe something...

Her hand clutched aggressively at her best-kept secrets, fingers burrowing partway inside, trying to help her imagine... At home, she might've had the handle of her axe to kind of help out, but she was at Hiccup's house now, and she wasn't about to stop mid-progress in the bed where he slept to go find something else to mess up.

Her mouth twisted and parted as she thrust steadily at her hand. An axe-handle probably wasn't much like a real boy anyway. A real boy would be warm. Hot, even. Hot and smooth, trying, trying so hard to make her happy...

Well, maybe. She didn't know. Somehow it made her fingers feel better inside if she imagined it that way though, something sort of thick pounding up in there, over and over and over, forcing her closer and closer to... It was too much. He was wasn't allowed to escape now. She wouldn't let him, no. It was too good. She'd squeeze him, force him into her, harder, harder, harder, oh, she didn't care if she snapped him in two, if he just, oh, oh Thor–!

"Mmmfh," she shuddered as a hot little orgasm fluttered through her body, her hungry little gash pulsing in its curious way around her deepest finger. She struggled to extract her hand from under her snug clothes with a sigh, thoughtlessly wiping it dry on the fabric next to her as she savored the very familiar sensation of her heart slowing down after a nice little grind.

Her brow furrowed, and she hastily threw the covers off herself, forcing herself to sit up, as opposed to– what? What had that been? Languishing in those kinds of... thoughts– about HICCUP of all people. That dweeb Hiccup, her best friend. In his own house, no less. She bit her lip, grinding her fist into the bed beside her, puffing with disgust at herself. Letting herself get carried away again. She needed to maintain control.

Her hand wandered on its own, guiltily smoothing out the blanket as she sat there pondering, her legs squeezed tightly together.

The floorboard beneath was all marked up with little round imprints from Hiccup's missing foot. Astrid forced herself to tear her gaze away, and found herself staring right into the bulging judgmental eyes of the Night Fury across the room.

He blinked, his eyes big and round, offering a soft warble. He was no longer curled up, now lying on his belly with his head pointed directly toward the bed.

Astrid frowned, burying her nails in her knee self-consciously.

No doubt about it. Hiccup's dragon had watched her the entire time.

...