They stared at each other again, only this time, her heart was racing not because of how close they were, but because he was stealing something. And not just anything, a horse. One of the Di Range’s horses. It was Lady Heather’s brother’s favorite.
“Stop,” Astrid said, cursing herself for speaking quietly. What did it matter if they had danced last night? What did it matter that her heart had been pounding all night? What did it matter that he was the first man to look at her as though she was just as desirable as Lady Heather was?
Hiccup didn’t say anything, but he slowly got off the horse, who whinnied as though in protest, although she didn’t know why. He sighed, but he didn’t get closer to her. Still, she naturally moved towards the mop leaning against the wall. If he was to attack, then she would attack right back.
“Astrid,” he murmured, almost as quiet as she, “that is your name, right? Lady Astrid?”
She was hardly a lady, and that should have been apparent now. Of course, yesterday, she had looked like something out of a book, but today, her rags were dirty, her blonde hair had soot, and her shoes were plain and brown. At any rate, calling her a lady would not flatter her - it would not sway her. Astrid was nothing if not loyal.
You watch from the sidelines as Luke runs the ball down the field, chewing on your lip as anticipation builds, the clock ticking with only 5 second left in the game. The crowd behind you is going crazy the closer he gets to the goal and the stadium soon erupts in cheers once the ball flies past the goalie and hits the net. You cheer along with them, grinning as his team gathers around him and lifts him up onto their shoulders- he just scored the winning goal of the championship qualifying game and you’re sure you’ve never seen him grin so wide.
You laugh when he stumbles after the team sets him on his feet, running straight for him and jumping into his arms, your legs wrapped high around his waist as he spins you around before you duck and capture his lips in a series of deep kisses. Your hands cup his cheeks where his sweat is dripping down from his forehead, “you’re amazing,” you murmur against his lips as the crowd chants his name, his grin seemingly permanent.
You slide down his body until you land on your feet, his long fingers tucking your hair behind your ear, “that was for you, baby,” he murmurs, winking and making your cheeks heat as he bends to press a kiss to your lips.
His fingers lace with yours, unwilling to let you leave his side as he high fives his team mates, grabbing his water bottle and squirting the cool liquid into his mouth. Just seeing him like this- sweaty, exhausted and his lips stretched into a huge grin after a long game makes you want to drop to your knees and feel his fingers thread into your hair as you take his cock into your mouth.