24/7 ramen.
description: you are iwaizumi’s home; even if he is forced to take you to a ramen place at 2 in the morning.
pairing: iwaizumi x gen!reader
genre/warning: banter, fluff, literally just filler dialogue with an overarching plot, light mentions of violence
word count: 1.8k
a/n: this was inspired by some headcanons im going to post. oh and this is for @hajiimes... hehe <3
“I got into a fight.”
Iwaizumi paused, his phone hovering near his ear. He resisted the urge to let out a sharp laugh—of all the things, why did you have to get into a fight?—and slung his arm over his face. “And you lost?”
Iwaizumi could almost hear you pouting. “To be fair, they were-”
“But you lost.”
A pause. “Yeah.”
Iwaizumi dragged his hand across his face with a heavy sigh. “Why are you fighting people at,” he paused to squint at the digital clock on the dresser, “Two in the morning?”
“Ramen.”
“What?”
“Hot and spicy shrimp,” you said solemnly. “There was only one pack-”
“You’re aware we have finals tomorrow, right?”
“Exactly the reason why I wanted ramen.”
Iwaizumi sighed again. “Are you hurt?”
“Well, someone elbowed me in the eye-”
“The eye?”
“Yes the eye. I’m pretty sure it’s swollen, but other than that I’m perfectly fine.”
“Why do you sound so happy?” Iwaizumi asked, getting up to scour his closet for a hoodie. “You lost a fight over a pack of ramen.”
“Well technically, no one won the fight. We all got kicked out of the store. Poor guy didn’t even keep his ramen.”
“Which store?”
“Walmart.”
“You couldn’t have gone to a convenience store or something?” Iwaizumi pulled on the hoodie Oikawa sent him from Argentina and grabbed an old Godzilla hoodie from his closet.
“Haji, this is Socal, not Japan,” you condescended. Iwaizumi scoffed at how haughty you sounded. “I’m sure Socal has convenience stores,” he muttered.
“Well, Walmart was the closest.”
“You could’ve woken me up,” Iwaizumi grumbled, moving on to grab the keys off the drawer, “I would’ve taken you to a convenience store.”
“But you were sleeping.”
“So? You know how dangerous that was? I’d feel a little better if I was there.”
“Yeah, but I wanted ramen,” you sighed. “Anyway, can you pick me up, Haji? It’s getting cold.”
Iwaizumi shut the apartment door with a quiet click. “I’m leaving the apartment now.”
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling that you’d want me to pick you up.”
“Okay. Oh, and remember to drive on the right side of the road.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure? You almost drove into a tree last time.”
“Because I was tired.” Iwaizumi opened the door to the car, dropping the hoodie into the passenger’s seat. “Tired people don’t think straight.”
“Aren’t you tired right now?”
“No, I’ve been awake since you told me you got into a fight. You need to tell me what the hell actually happened there.”
“I told you, it was ramen,” you huffed. “There was one pack of spicy shrimp and three desperate college students in need of ramen.”
“So you fought for it.”
“I lunged for it, some other dude shoved me, I crashed into the third person, and then he was pushing them and I was on the floor and then someone’s elbow was in my eye and then the employee grabbed us and tossed us out.”
Iwaizumi took a moment to process your words. “You sound proud of yourself.”
“I’m not. I didn’t get the ramen.”
“No one got the ramen,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“I mean yeah, but now I can tell people I’ve been in a fight.”
“Why would you want to tell someone you’ve been in a fight?”
“I dunno,” you sighed. “I’m tired and hungry. Tired and hungry people say weird things.”
“Damn right.”
“That was an insult.”
“It was.”
“Ouch.”
Iwaizumi didn’t respond, lightly drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the red light to turn green.
“My eye hurts,” you said suddenly, your voice crackling from the phone’s speaker.
Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“No,” you decide. “Ramen would make it better.”
“So now I’m buying you ramen?”
“Yeah.”
“At 2 AM?”
“It’s 2:28 now.”
Iwaizumi scoffed.
“I found this ramen place that’s open,” you said. “24/7 Ramen. It’s 25 minutes from here.”
“Why is there a ramen place open for 24 hours?” he muttered, half to himself.
“It’s probably run by college students. That’s why the name is catchy too.”
“Catchy?”
“It sounds like a song. You know, 24 Karat Magic by Bruno Mars.”
“Never heard of it.”
“What?” Iwaizumi found himself flinching, despite the fact it was simply your voice coming from his phone’s speaker. “How have you been living in America for two years without ever hearing 24 Karat Magic? That song is a classic.”
“I think you’re forgetting you’re speaking to a guy born and raised in Japan.”
“Haji, you’ve been here for two years. That’s 24 months. 48 weeks. And a certain amount of days I’m too tired to calculate.”
Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “730.”
“730-” you paused. “How the hell did you calculate that so fast?”
“Dealing with stupid people makes you smarter, I guess.”
“No, ramen makes you smarter.” You sighed. “I really want ramen.”
“I heard.” Iwaizumi turned the steering wheel, bringing the car into the Walmart parking lot. “And I’m here now, so you can stop whining.”
“Oh, I see you. Do you see me?”
There was a figure sitting on the front curb, waving erratically in Iwaizumi’s direction. “I see an idiot waving at me like their life depends on it, so yes, I see you.”
“I think being around stupid people makes you grumpy,” you grumbled.
“No, having to pick my significant other up from Walmart at 2 in the morning makes me grumpy.”
You responded by scoffing and hanging up the phone. Seconds later, you were sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Aw, did you bring a hoodie for me?” you asked, glancing down at the Godzilla hoodie that you almost sat down on.
Iwaizumi glanced over to you, raising an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Hi, I love you, thank you for picking me up. Happy now?”
“I’m ecstatic. Yes, that hoodie is for you.”
You smiled, pulling the hoodie on over your shirt and relaxing into the seat. Iwaizumi carefully looked over your face. The only noticeable injury was the ring of darkness around your eye—did they really elbow you that hard?—and a slight cut on your upper lip, but those would heal soon. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“What, is there something on my face?” you asked, reaching up to brush your fingers over your cheek.
“You have a black eye.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. Is it bad?”
“No, not really.” He checked the dashboard for the time and slightly frowned. “Where’s the ramen place?”
24/7 Ramen was a small convenience store in between an optometrist and a cigarette shop. On the outside, it wasn’t much. The name of the store was illuminated in large flickering neon letters. The exterior brick walls of the store were dusty and crumbling with age and wore. The windows were covered with assorted posters and papers, some for missing children, upcoming movies, and advertisements for Japanese snacks.
“Oh, so this is like a Japanese convenience store then?” you asked, looking at one of the Japanese ads. “I guess you were right.”
“Told you.”
“Just come on and buy me my ramen.”
The door opened with a familiar chime that reminded Iwaizumi of warm yakisoba buns, tangled with the sight of preppy school uniforms, and of course, Oikawa Tooru. The layout of the store was straight out of Japan, overwhelming him with countless reels of tender highschool memories. If he closed his eyes he could see himself standing right there, bag under his arm, Oikawa at his shoulder.
“Feeling a little nostalgic, huh?”
His head whipped toward you standing behind him with an amused smile on your face. “This place does have a Japanese feel to it.” You raised your eyebrow in that insufferably adorable way of yours, and Iwaizumi found it hard to breathe.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets as a flush began to form on his cheeks. “Be quiet.”
You hummed but made no other comment, instead choosing to shoot him another knowing look that made his blood roar in his ears. You started moving through the store, picking cups of ramen off the shelves. He hovered behind you, still embarrassed about his nostalgic moment—was he that homesick?—occasionally picking up cups of ramen and examining them before placing them back onto the shelf.
After what seemed like ages, you presented your armful of ramen cups with a proud smile. “I’m done.”
Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not buying you 15 cups of ramen.”
“But you promised-“
“Each one is like, 65 cents? I’ll buy you 5, max.”
“Why not more?”
“I’m just as broke as you are.”
You sighed in defeat. “Being broke in college sucks.”
“I told you we should’ve held off on getting a car.”
“But I wanted a car!”
“More than you want ramen?”
“That’s- that’s an unfair comparison!”
Iwaizumi continued to go back and forth with you, even as you paid for the ramen at the cash register. You were in the middle of a frantic explanation of why investing in a car was important in California when you finally made it outside.
The air was still and cool, save for the slight breeze that occasionally tangled in Iwaizumi’s spiky locks. The only sounds were the distant cars speeding across the road and the faint sound of crickets chirping, for you had both fallen silent after leaving the convenience store. Iwaizumi turned to look at you: one eye swollen, upper lip bleeding, a plastic bag full of convenience store ramen clutched tightly in your hand. He could see the fire in your eyes, that odd determination to make your own dreams a reality, no matter how fickle or ridiculous they were. It was similar to the drive he saw in Oikawa’s eyes, he realized. The reckless, worthless one that seemed to be a double-edged sword.
Maybe that’s why whenever he looked at you, he felt like he was at home.
“I love you, you know that?”
You cocked your head to the side and smiled slightly. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets again, turning away from your curious gaze. The corners of your mouth pulled up into a faint smile. Without warning, you turned Iwaizumi toward you with your finger and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. And then you were bounding off toward the car, the plastic bag jostling in your hand.
“Hey,” Iwaizumi called, starting after you. “Come back here so I can kiss you properly.”
“I want my ramen!” came your response from the car. “No kisses until I get my ramen!”
Iwaizumi chuckled softly. You were annoying and feisty, but you still managed to make him feel right at home.
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