Allow me to introduce my newest #kiribaku brainchild thread/fic

“The Spice of Life”

💥Quirkless AU
💥Adult characters
💥Tattoo artist Baku
💥Ramen Truck Kiri
💥Definitely NSFW (eventually)
💥Baku’s an ass
Eijiro Kirishima has a new and popular little ramen truck aptly named Riot Ramen. It’s rapidly gaining popularity and he’s making his rounds around the city when he makes a stop in a small street.
Once the truck is parked, he and his co-owner and cook, Tamaki Amajiki, begin their preparations for the oncoming lunch rush.

He quickly snaps a photo of the dark building in front of the truck and pins the location in a new post, beckoning his hungry customers.
Amajiki is busy slicing and dicing ingredients as Kirishima steps out and fixes his lucky bandana he uses as a headband to tie back his tall, spikey red hair and sets up the specials menu board.
Before Kirishima knows it, he’s got a huge crowd gathered around the truck as he’s jotting down orders and handing them to Amajiki, as well as taking his customers payments. As he’s handing an order over to a customer, a loud, booming voice resonates throughout the small space +
+ of the now crowded street.
“OI, WHAT THE FUCK?! GET THE PIECE OF GARBAGE OUT FROM IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING SHOP!!!”
Kirishima is pissed. Who the fuck was this asshole to tell him what to do when he already got the city’s approval and proper permits?!
He made sure he wasn’t parked in front of a restaurant or café, or hindering the normal flow of traffic. What was this douchbag’s deal?! He was gonna find the fuck out.

After the rush was over, it was a few hours shy of dinner time. With the amount of leftovers they had, +
+ he thought it’d be a nice peace offering to the dickhead that insulted his baby earlier that afternoon. Amajiki thought it was a good idea, too, but said he’d rather stay to clean up, not wanting to deal with the confrontational and angry business owner.
So Kirishima packed up all the leftover food and walked over to the dark building. The windows looked tinted, and the a sign above the door read “Ground Zero Tattoos” in orange and green graffiti like lettering. He takes a deep breath in as he yanks the door open.
Punk rock plays low in the background, and there’s portfolio books atop a glass coffee table and two black leather sofas in the opposite corner of the reception area. The walls were decorated with blown up pictures of both Japanese and American traditional style art, +
+ as well as other pieces of what Kirishima assumes was custom art. A bubbly brunette with a full galaxy themed sleeve greeted him from behind the reception desk.
“Welcome to Ground Zero Tattoos!!! I’m Ochaco, how can I help you?”
“I’m Eijiro Kirishima, I own the ramen truck across the street and I brought a ton of leftovers from our lunch rush!!!”
A tall man with two toned hair pokes his head around the corner and his hertochromic eyes zero in on the full food containers in Eijiro’s hands.
“That smells amazing, I’ll take it to the back.”
“Sure bro, I-“
“OI YOU HALF-N-HALF BASTARD WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT KEEPING YOUR FUCKING STATION CLEAN?!” An ash blond man came barreling into the reception area, and his crimson eyes practically glow with a firey intensity +
+ as he glares in the direction of the reception area. He stops when he sees Kirishima standing in front of the desk.
“Oh it’s you. What’re you doing here??”
Kirishima couldn’t help the way his jaw nearly drops to the floor.
The blond is tall, probably a few inches shorter than him, and his poofy blond hair is sticking out from under a dark gray beanie. He just barely sees the black and orange plugs in his stretched ears behind his hair. Two identical black rings cling to the blond’s full lower lip +
his black shirt is somewhat loose and long, a single white skull printed on the front. His muscular arms were decorated beautifully with what looked like matching dragons on both foreamrs. His black skinny jeans hung low from his brawny hips and grip at his ankles just right, +
showing off a pristine pair of checkered slip on sneakers. But his mouth is set in a sneer as he glares at Kirishima. The burnette behind the desk rolls her eyes, her perpetual blushed cheeks puffing with obvious annoyance as she swats at the explosive blond.
“Bakugo, stop being such an ass!!! Kirishima’s here because he brought us free food.”
“We don’t want your lame excuse for ramen, Shitty Hair.”
Shitty Hair?! This dude’s a straight up asshole!!!
Kirishima was good at keeping his temper in check, +
+ but this guy was definitely starting to wear on his resolve.
“Look man, I just brought it here as a kind of apology for any inconvenience we may have caused. You don’t have to eat any of it, but if the others want it, they can have it.”
The blond, Bakugo, narrows his eyes at Kirishima in such a way that makes his spine tingle.

The man with two toned hair was quick to reply, nearly snatching the food containers out of Kirishima’s hands. He looks at Ochaco and back at the food.
“Tell Izuku that he doesn’t have to cook tonight. There’s plenty here to feed the four of us.” As Ochaco types away on her phone, Bakugo clicks his tongue loudly, the black ball clacking against perfect teeth.
“Honestly this shit would be better than whatever charred disaster Deku was gonna make,” Bakugo grumbled under his breath.
“Whatever man, you guys enjoy.”
With clenched fists, Kirishima turned on his heels and stalked out of the tattoo shop.
“So, how’d it go?” Amajiki asked as Kirishima stomped closer.
“It went probably as well as you think. God, he’s just so... UUUUUUUUUUGH!!!! And his attitude?? It’s so... AAAAHHHHH!!!” Kirishima roared as he pulled at his bright red hair.
Amajiki laughs at his business partner fondly.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d have a thing for that ass.” Kirishima’s cheeks turned a shade of red that could almost rival his hair as he sputters his answer. Amajiki just smiles warmly.
“I get it. Those with ‘manly passion’ are hard to resist,” He said and winks, using Eijiro’s own words against him.
“Come on, it’s getting late and Mirio’s already asking where I’m at.”
“Marry him already, Jesus Christ.”
Later that night, after the pair locked up the truck and went their separate ways, Eijiro was home in his single bedroom apartment and getting ready for bed. As he finished his shower, he walked into his bedroom with the towel wrapped around his sinewy hips and another +
+ scrubbing his wet hair dry. Kirishima’s phone pinged with a notification and we walked over to his bed and picked it up.

Riot Ramen’s page had a new follower, Ground Zero Tattoo. He scoffs, and wonders aloud to himself why that asshole wants to follow him of all people.
The guy has well over 30k followers and Riot Ramen has just over 15k. He mindlessly navigates to the shops official page and is in absolute awe of the hundreds of pictures art that’s posted. Some that’s Bakugo’s, some that’s by a guy with the username @/icyhawttats, and another +
+ guy who goes by @/tattoosbydeku. New school with a perfect mix of old school style, neo traditional, photorealism, watercolor, black and grey, and everything else in between.
There’s a few pictures of the other two artists posing with their customers, or just the three of them out front of the shop. They were a perfect team!!!

Before Kirishima knew it, he’d found his way to the blond’s personal page.
He studies his bio, which isn’t much to begin with. The name in the bio says Katsuki Bakugo, and his handle is appropriately named @/king_blasty. But as he starts to scroll down to his posts, he was not at all ready for what he sees.
This page was full of professional photos; some of him posed in a perfectly tailored suit, one of him in the same suit pants, but with the top two buttons of his white shirt undone, the camera’s angle getting just a peek of his perky pecs.
There’s some typical boat shots, his board shorts just barely fitting around those juicy thighs.

There’s one of him standing with his back to the camera, muscles taut from the pose, and flaunting his full back piece. Kirishima’s cock is aching for attention as he continues +
+ his torturous scrolling. He reflexively wraps his hand around himself, slowly dragging his fist up and down his hardened shaft. The one with Bakugo in a white tank top and those grey infamous sweatpants?
His cock gave a hard twitch in agreement and the heat in his gut grew hotter as he groaned lowly, his hand picking up speed. The last one is what got him. Bakugo is standing in front of the camera, a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, +
+ he’s shirtless, his pierced nipples out, and his entire tattooed chest and abdomen is on full display. His thumbs are hooked in the belt loops of a dark pair of jeans, +
+ pulling them down enough to get a glimpse of glorious pale blond hair trailing down to gather thickly at the base of his groin.

Eijiro came, hard, with a shout. His hips wildly jerking into his fist on their own accord, the muscles below his waist clenching and unclenching +
+ deliciously as he rode out his intense orgasam.
/Thank God I live alone./
His cheeks feel warm, and he suddenly feels a little guilty snooping through Bakugo’s pictures and using them to get his rocks off.
He slumps down onto the edge of the mattress, the mess in his hand dripping down into the carpet. He chuckled to himself and decides to follow the explosive tattoo artist back.
•••
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