#is41 x reader

i've been spending the last eight months/ thinking all love ever does is break/ burn and end, but on wednesday, in a cafe/ i watched on begin again

the autumn air in san jose was just starting to bite, and the small coffee shop two blocks from the arena was packed with the morning rush.

you were working the register, three hours into a double shift, moving as fast as your tired feet would let you. the bell above the door chimed, and in walked a tall, blonde man in an oversized grey hoodie, his hood pulled low over a baseball cap.

ivar was having the absolute worst day of his life.

he had been completely chewed out by the coaching staff at morning skate, missed a meeting because his alarm didn't go off, and his head was pounding with a dull, throbbing migraine. on top of that, he was homesick, exhausted, and desperately needed caffeine before his brain completely shut down.

he stepped up to the counter, his jaw set into a rigid line, his hands jammed deep into the pockets of his hoodie. he didn't make eye contact. he didn't say hello.

"large drip coffee. black," he muttered, his voice flat and heavy with a thick accent.

you blinked, taken aback by the coldness in his tone, but kept your customer service smile fixed on your face. "sure thing! would you like room for cream, or—"

"black," he cut you off abruptly, his voice dropping an octave, a irritated edge creeping into his words. "i said black, liksom. just... quickly."

a few people in line behind him shifted uncomfortably.

your smile instantly dropped. you had been working on your feet for six hours, dealing with polite people and rude people alike, but something about his dismissive tone snapped the last of your patience.

"okay," you said, your voice dripping with sarcastic icy politeness as you tapped the screen. "that’ll be four fifty. and just so you know, a hello or a please doesn't cost extra."

ivar froze.

he slowly lifted his head, his tired eyes rising to meet yours for the first time. he looked genuinely shocked that someone had called him out. for three long seconds, he just stared at you, his lips parted slightly, his brow furrowed as he tried to process your words through his fogged, exhausted brain.

he didn't apologize. he just swiped his card, grabbed his cup the second you set it on the counter without a word, and walked out, the bell chiming sharply behind him.

"what a jerk," your coworker muttered beside you.

you just shook your head, wiping down the counter. "whatever. hope his day gets better."

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three hours later, your shift was finally over.

the afternoon rain had started falling, turning the streets slick and dark. you pulled your coat tight around yourself, stepping out the back door of the coffee shop into the quiet alleyway to take out the heavy trash bags before heading home.

as you tossed the second bag into the dumpster, a soft groan caught your attention.

you turned around. sitting on a low concrete ledge near the back entrance, completely drenched by the light rain, was the exact same guy from this morning.

his hood was pushed back now, revealing messy blonde hair sticking to his forehead. he was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his large hands, a discarded, empty paper coffee cup crushed on the wet ground beside his sneakers. he looked so small, so completely defeated, that the anger you felt toward him this morning instantly evaporated.

you stood there for a second, holding your umbrella over your head.

"you know... sitting in the rain isn't going to fix whatever went wrong today," you said softly, your voice cutting through the quiet drizzle.

ivar flinched, his hands slowly coming down from his face. he looked up, his dark eyes wide and glossy as he recognized you standing there in your jacket.

"oh," he whispered, his voice rough and scratchy. he looked away immediately, his jaw tightening as he rubbed the back of his neck. "it's... you."

"yeah. it's me," you said, taking two slow steps closer, tilting your umbrella just enough so it covered him from the rain too. "are you okay?"

ivar let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head as he stared at his wet sneakers. "nej. i am... not okay, i think."

his english was soft, the scandinavian lilt far more pronounced now that he was entirely stripped of his defensive wall.

"i was very rude to you this morning," ivar murmured, his voice dropping into a low, quiet almost whisper tone. he didn't look at you, his fingers nervously picking at the wet fabric of his sweatpants. "i am... very sorry. is no excuse, but... my morning was very bad. everything go wrong, you know? and i take it out on you. it was... how do you say... shitty of me."

you looked down at him, watching the genuine remorse in his eyes. the guy who had barked at you three hours ago was completely gone; in his place was just a tired and probably has a long way from home, drowning under a bad day.

"it's okay," you said gently, a small, warm smile finally tugging at your lips. "apology accepted."

ivar slowly raised his head, looking up at you in confusion. "ja? just like that?"

"just like that," you nodded. you reached into your bag, pulling out a fresh, unopened hot tea you had made right before your shift ended, stepping closer and handing it down to him. "here. it's chamomile. it helps with... whatever mood you're in."

ivar stared at the steaming paper cup in your hands, then up at your face. he slowly reached out, his large, cold fingers brushing against yours as he took it, the warmth radiating through his palms.

"thank you," he whispered softly, his dark eyes searching your face with a quiet intensity that made your pulse skip a beat. "i am... ivar, by the way."

"i know," you smiled softly. "i recognized you. you play for the sharks."

ivar let out a small, breathless laugh, a faint pink flush creeping up his neck, though this time it wasn't from anger. "ah. usually i play better than i order coffee, i promise."

"i'll believe it when i see it," you teased gently.

ivar took a slow sip of the tea, letting out a long, shuddering exhale as the heat settled into his chest. he looked up at you, the rain tapping softly against the fabric of your umbrella above both of your heads, shielding the two of you from the rest of the cold city.

"can i... buy you a coffee tomorrow?" ivar asked quietly, his voice hesitant, as he fumbled slightly over the words. "to make it... properly right? i come in, i say hello, i say please... and then I pay for yours?"

"only if you actually use your manners this time, ivar," you murmured, your smile widening.

ivar’s face relaxed, a real, breathtaking smile breaking across his lips for the first time all day—the tired shadow completely disappearing from his face.

"okay," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours with a soft, steady warmth. "i promise. best manners you ever see."