asked: Imagine a Hiccstrid fic : Where Astrid is pregnant and doesn't have her normal self confidence due to gaining a little weight ect so she avoids Hiccup for a while because of this ... so when he finds out he reminds her just how much he loves her and how beautiful she really is
Hey! So sorry this is late D: I’d been handed over this prompt and then there were family issues that kept me away from the laptop, and, yeah. >.<
Both us mods agreed self-esteem issues ain’t really Astrid’s forte, but here’s Hiccup fawning over his wifey anyhow. Hope you enjoy! :)
He never heard of the ‘pregnancy glow’ before. Mostly because Vikings weren’t all that fertile. The last pregnancy on Berk had been when Hiccup was 12, and he’d been a little too busy trying to prove that trolls really did exist to care that Mrs. Copperhead had a bigger belly than usual.
And Astrid, well, she was and always had been an absolute stunner. Hiccup remembered being just 8 years old and sneaking glances at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and deep freckles and the most adorable button nose. Glances that turned into outright staring as the girl blossomed into an even more beautiful woman.
(For the sake of fairness, the narrator must note that Hiccup’s description was lacking. Astrid herself was mortified by her pubescent period; there had been cracked lips and zits and chipmunk cheeks and she still had a few stretch marks. Hiccup wasn’t leaving these less attractive details out on purpose, you understand. He’s just too infatuated to feel they’re of any significance.)
But this. Nothing could have prepared him for this.
Astrid looked like she’d swallowed the sun. Her eyes were bright, cheeks constantly flushed scarlet, and face…softer, somehow. When she grinned, he thought he was starting to see the shadow of a dimple. He could even tell the moment she entered a room, because the general area just felt lighter. Beautiful.
Which wasn’t to say Astrid herself was constantly happy, oh no. Especially when the morning sickness started.
Hiccup didn’t feel quite ready to describe the horrors of what had happened when a pregnant and emotional and axe-wielding Viking came out of the bathroom after retching for half an hour.
(Frankly, neither does the narrator.)
The south wall of the living room was never quite the same…