Sparks Fly ~Jack Frost X Reader X Hiccup~

Chapter 1

Your eyes slowly fluttered open when the loud shouts from your mom downstairs awoke you from your most-needed-sleep. Dim rays of sun shone through your bedroom window as you pushed the duvet off yourself and sat up, yawning once or twice in the process. You blinked your eyes several times for them to adjust to the sudden brightness of your surroundings.

"Yea?!" you screamed back so your voice could travel to the rooms below.

"(Y/N)," your mom called out your name again; she added a pause before continuing. "Get up, get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast! The food's not going to wait for you! ...Especially when you're father's here..."

You then heard a faint, mumbled, "Hey!" that was probably your dad's reaction towards your mom's less-than-pleasing-words of him. A lazy smile played on your lips as you rolled your eyes at the thought of it. "Okay! I'll be down in a sec!" you replied, making them ceased their shouts.

But before doing as you're told, you turned your head over to the side where your phone was placed on the small table next to your bed, and reached your hand out for it. The screen lit up when your thumb swipes across it. "No missed calls, no messages," you mumbled and allowed your head to rest against the bed frame as you shut your eyes, trying to ignore the heavy disappointment that you felt inside. "No nothing..."

A sigh escaped your mouth as you reopened your eyes and spotted the large, brown boxes that sat in the corner of your brand new room. The sight of them reminded you that you had to finish unpacking today, and you absolutely hated the idea of doing labor.

So you got out of your bed and instead of walking over to the pile of boxes, you stepped into the small bathroom. You grabbed your toothbrush and started cleaning your teeth, then went into the shower and after that got dressed and did your hair.

Once you were done, you immediately went down the stairs, completely ignoring the still-unpacked-boxes that continued to sit alone in your almost furniture-deserted-room. You then headed straight into the kitchen where the sweet scent of breakfast filled your senses.

Your mom was busy mixing something in a bowl while your dad sat on the table reading a newspaper. Plates of honey pancakes, French toasts and cups of coffee and orange were splayed out neatly on the dining table. Normally, you would just sit down and stuffed down everything edible on the table but the move had caused you to lose your usual big appetite.

But you knew that you had to get something down your throat or else your mom would go berserk; so, you picked up a piece of French toast and made your way out of the room.

"Hey," you suddenly heard your mom called out, making your turn around to look at her. "Why don't you go out and make some friends?"

You let out a faint sigh and bit into your toast. "Mom, seriously, I'm fine. I don't need friends who barely speak the only language that I know."

A frown tugged on her lips at your less-than-happy response. "(Y/N), that's very rude." She mumbled. You noticed from the corner of your eye that your dad was sneaking short glances between the two of you, though he doesn't speak up himself. "And it wouldn't hurt for you to just have a walk outside, go explore the town or something; I hear that the view is brilliant when it snows here."

You rolled your eyes. "It snows here almost every day," you groaned and took another bite of the toast. "That just decreases the brilliancy of the view because we're just gonna get used to it in a few days."

Your mom didn't reply this time, but her gaze never left yours.

"And also, the outside world is a dangerous place where anyone could just get hit by a rushing truck or get infected by bug stings or-" You began but your mom cut your off.

"Just," she shut her eyes for a second before proceeding. "Stop giving me excuses and go outside. Live a little, will you?"

You stuffed the remaining of your French toast into your mouth and raised your hands up in defense. "Okay, okay... Yeesh!" you mumbled with a mouthful of toast and grabbed your coat before opening the front door, and exited the house.

The cold breeze hit your face once you've stepped out, you breathed it in and exhaled it out, causing a faintly visible puff of smoke to come out of your mouth. Just two days ago, you were breathing in warm summer air, now you're stuck in a snowy land with no friends and frequent sneezes. Your dad got a promotion at his job, and that was great! ... But it did come with one flaw, you have to pack up your things and leave all your friends in America and move to Stockholm, Sweden.

Yep, you're stuck in a country where you're completely clueless to any words of the national language. Just great...

You walked over and sat down on a vaguely-snow-covered-bench just outside your house. The whole town was nearly covered in white and a smile crossed your face as the snow reminded you of a certain someone...

"Hey, snowflake." You then heard a familiar voice spoke from behind you. You turned around and the smile on your face grew. "Jack..." you murmured. "What are you doing here?"

Jack smirked, nothing good ever comes out of that. "Doing my job," he said and took a seat down next to you. "You know, bringing joy to kids all over the world and stuff like that."

"Right..." You nodded slowly.

"So, how's the move? You like it over here?" he asked, the cockiness still remained in his voice.

"Well, it could be better..." you sighed, causing another puff of smoke to escape your lips.

Jack's smirk vanished, and was replaced by a slight frown; he moved closer to you. "What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

You gave him a sarcastic look. "Well, what do you think?" You then buried your face in your palms and mumbled, "All my friends and my life are miles away and I don't think I could get either of them back... I just- I lost them..."

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt Jack's cool hand rested on your shoulder. You slowly lifted your face from your hands and met his soft gaze. He gave you a warm smile. "Well, you didn't lose me."

You couldn't help but smile back. "And I'm grateful for that."

"You can't lose me even if you'd tried," the winter spirit added. "I'm like a nasty piece of bubblegum that gets stuck on the bottom of your shoe then got stepped in wet cement."

You chuckled at his words. "Good, cause I don't think I wanna lose that nasty piece of cement bubblegum either."