Frost Bitten: Part 5 (Jack FrostxReader)

"My mother," you tried to absorb everything that just happened, "wants to meet you?"

Jack was cheerily oblivious. "Yep!" he told you with a grin, "She seems like a very nice person."

You shot him a withering glare, then threw your head back, rubbing your eyes with a hand. "Nice, right."

Suddenly he was very wary of the situation. "Why? Is she not?"

"Oh no, she's an amazing woman. Best mother ever," you paused before continuing, "She's just- very involved."

His blue eyes widened, "How do you mean?"

Rubbing your temples, you looked at him, "Well-"

The doorbell rang and Jack smiled sheepishly at you, "She said she was dropping by."

Frantically, you stumbled to the door, slipping on a patch of ice but catching yourself on the doorknob just as your mother was turning it. She pushed the door open a crack before your weight stopped her.

A nervous laugh left your lips, "Hey mom! Just a moment, k?"

Slamming the door shut, your (e/c) eyes darted around the room, landing on the ice patches randomly frozen on your floor as well as the mess you neglected to pick up. An audible choking sound escaped your throat and you ran about the living room, picking up everything that didn't belong and throwing them into your room. You skidded back into the living room with an armful of towels that you tossed down onto the ice patches. Jack watched with concerned and frightened eyes as you tripped your way back to the front door. You didn't notice him come up behind you when you opened the door.

Your mother was standing there, only looking slightly annoyed, but it all dissolved when you felt Jack's arms around your waist. Grabbing his arms and attempting to tug them off, you gave her a tight-lipped smile as she stared lovingly at the two of you, thinking you were embracing him back. Finally you shoved him off and stepped forward to hug your mom. She was shorter than you remembered.

"Old woman," you said, not letting go, "You're shrinking."

She slapped your butt as you pulled away, "Am not!" she huffed.

You grinned back at her, "Are too."

Her smile turned warm as she looked at Jack and stuck out a hand, "Hello, I'm (Mom's name)."

"Jack," he grinned, taking her hand and shaking it lightly.

When her eyes met yours again, her grin was devilish. "He's cuter than the guys you usually go after."

"Mom," you groaned, embarrassed as she stepped into your home.

"But what's with his hair?"

"Mom!"

She looked around, then back up at you, "And why are his pants torn?"

You paused and pursed your lips and turned to face the man. "You know? That's a pretty good question."

The two of you turned to face the pale boy, hands on your hips. He backed up, palms turned out to you. "Oh! I haven't told you? It's a funny story, really, you're gonna love it, I just-"

But you never learned why his frayed pants were torn mid-shin because he tripped on the edges of one of the towels, sliding backwards on the ice patch and landed with a solid sounding 'thunk' on the ground.

Laughing, you clutched at your sides. "I told you that was going to happen! Didn't I?"

He glared at you with ice blue eyes as you continued to giggle. Your mother stood by your side, thoroughly confused by what was happening. Jack pulled himself up and dusted off his tan pants. "Yes, yes," he groaned, "You told me."

Wiping a tear from the corner of your eye, you wove your arm through your mother's and pulled her out the front door and down the shoveled streets. The cold nipped at your nose from above the soft (f/c) scarf you grabbed as you left. Your poor mother hadn't even gotten a chance to take of her jacket before you were dragging her back through the snowy town.

After a bit of walking she was skipping down the road with you, excited as a teenage girl as
the two of you reached a small plaza filled with shops. With a wide grin, you looked at her. "Ice cream?"

"Ice cream," she nodded, following you into the small ice cream shop across the parking lot.

You ordered your ice cream, then the two of you took your seats by the window and watched the brightly lit snow from the warmth of inside the shop.

Looking curiously at her ice cream, your mother addressed you. "So," she said, taking a bite of the sugary treat, "Jack."

You played with the napkin dispenser in front of you. "Jack."

With a wicked grin, she put her ice cream down on the counter and turned her whole attention to you. You sighed, placing your own dessert down as well. "What?" you whined, wanting to just eat and leave.

She nudged you, "You know what!"

"I met him in the park yes- the other day and we've been meeting up since then."

There was that grin again, "Has he kissed you?"

Knowing that was coming, you sighed again, "Yes," you told her, truthfully.

A squeal escaped her lips, and she continued to ask you questions about the "beautiful boy living with you," as she put it, until it was dark. Then, she interrogated you the whole walk home about sleeping arrangements.

You groaned, "He stays on the couch, I stay in my bed."

"No! You can't do that!" You gave her a look, causing her to feel the need to explain further, "It's cold out. He's cute. You have a small bed. Snuggle buddies!"

Finally, you reached your front door and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before ducking into your house. She shouted goodnight at you and went back to her car, pulling out and driving to her own home just outside of town.

Relieved to be alone at last you slid down your door, only to be met with the tapping of a bare foot.