Latte Kisses
LK Masterlist
Can you do an Ivar x plus size!reader fluff? Maybe it's just me, but I dont see too much for the plus size reader. Love your work xx
A/N: Should I continue this? You tell me. Gif belongs to caffeinatedcraze and not me, obviously. It’s a bit dark at the beginning and has a mini Ivar blowout.
A few hours ago, he was at his mother’s house in a field of yellow tape being interviewed by two men in black. A few hours before that, he walked in on Ubbe’s bloody hands trying to keep pressure on the one person that made sense in his life. A few minutes before that, Sigurd called him with a monotone voice. And before that morning, his mother was alive.
Now his feet dragged on cracked concrete. His crutch in his arm assisted him find his way around town but he had nowhere to go. No one to see. He had a habit of running away people that were closest to him…. all but his mother. His brothers kept communication with him but they too faded at times.
He stopped in front of a small bakery, glaring at its quaint little purple and pink canopy. It was sickly sweet. He imagined his mother would have liked it should she have wandered to this side of town where cracks were common and alcohol shops frequented corners by schools.
The Little Kitten.
Ivar rolled his eyes and started way inside, counting the amount of cute teacups and racks of clear jars holding various candies. Dark chocolate coated honeycomb and raspberry sticks of the same, sour or spicy gummies and things he couldn’t make the sense out of. The scent of coffee beans titillated his nose.
“I’ll be right with you, sweetheart!” A woman’s voice chirped.
Zipping out from behind the counter, she moved with a bubbly infectious smile. Her dress was sleek along all of her thick curves. She set a tray of coffees down in front of a couple before turning on her tall heels, complete with bows around her plump ankles, and set back for the kitchen. He gazes up at the menu that read Treats and Sweets which evidently had nothing to do with the sweets display but coffees. Lots and lots of coffees.
His eyebrows furrowed. “You really like cute things here, don’t you?” He notes.
She glanced over at the menu, rising to the tippy top of the her toes before plopping back down with a wide smile. “Absolutely!” She exclaims in excitement. “Everything is better that way. Bright and happy is the way to go.”
Ivar rolls his tongue across his lip. “Even with coffee? I doubt that.”
“Especially coffee, lattes are my favourite. Here, let me show you.”
Before he can object-- or even just respond, she spun away to her coffee machine. The beans are ground fine and thin. He can just barely hear her humming behind the counter.
“I haven’t seen you around here before!” She calls out to him. The buzzing of the various machines she has on makes it hard to hear, so Ivar limps closer to where she is spinning front to back, back to front.
“I don’t live around here.” He answers.
She stops at the other side of the counter. His eyes catch her own, glistening like two jewels in the sun despite the outline of a sassy cat eye flicking at the corners. She places her dusty hand onto the black countertop.
“You don’t look like you live around here.” Her gaze glazes over his chest, down past the body of the crutch until she could look no further thanks to the countertop. Ivar’s tongue glazes across his lower lip.
“Is that a good?” He asks.
“Depends who you ask.” She winks. The coffee machine sputtered. She removed the cute white cup from the machine just as two obnoxious boys broke through the side door of the cafe.
“Miss (Y/N)!” Said one.
“Crazy Mrs. Lothbrok got whacked!” Said the other while his friend sniggered contently.
Her eyes snapped up from the coffee cup just as Ivar’s head snapped in the direction of the boys who on initial glance, looked nothing like the woman before him. Their features varied from sharp to rounded and light to dark. Brewing anger frothed over in his stomach when he snapped, his fists curling up tight.
”Say that again about my mother.”
In seconds, he was pressing into their faces. The boys, not a year older than sixth grade, backed up over one another. She bustled out of the counter to loom over the two, smushing herself in between Ivar and the offending parties.
“Apologize.” She demanded.
“We’re… we’re sorry!” The boys knew better, apologizing with nervous stutters. He isn’t quite sure if its because of him-- or her.
“Go do your work.” She snaps her fingers, pointing to a booth in the corner of the cramped cafe. They took their moment to escape, tripping over their ripped jeans and dirty sneakers. A deep sigh echoed past her lips when she pulled away to the spot where she once stood. As soon as she disappeared, she appeared once more.
“I’m… I’m really sorry. About them. Um, it’s on the house.” She says, working up the best smile she could. As Ivar took the to go cup from her hands, the bells connected to the front door trilled.
“Asulf! I have your cookies!” She bustles back behind the counter and out of sight to speak to a plump man. As Ivar leaves the now awkward cafe, he pops open the lid to his drink. The liquid is puffed with an edible glitter, the center spreading into a bright white heart. But what shook him most of all was on the heat protecting sleeve. In bubbly letters, his name spelled out with a heart: Ivar.
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