badliifechoiice2 | It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake

It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake

The Maid Cafe Meme

"In these cafés, waitresses dressed in maid costumes act as servants, and treat customers as masters (and mistresses) in a private home, rather than as café patrons."

Congratulations- for whatever strange shenanigans, you've ended up working at a maid and/or butler cafe! Whether you need the cash, are doing it for shits and giggles, or Shit Just Happened, here you are. Hope you enjoy that uniform, whether it's the simple black-and-white, cosplay, or.... cat ears.

Remember your manners! Always welcome in patron as "Masters" and "Mistresses", offer wipe towels and menus at entrance, and try to drag them into spending as much money as possible. Depending on the cafe, this could mean simply food and drinks, karaoke, massages, games of all sorts, taking a (paid) picture with a patron or... going with anime tropes by slapping them in-character?

Well, some people will pay for anything.

Alternatively, maybe you're actually a patron yourself! Visiting just to say you did? Looking for a brief power trip in your life? Is this the only place where you can do paperwork for some arcane reason? Keeping an eye out for your friend who works here? No judgment, only people in cosplay who will indulge whatever nonsense is going on.

Just remember - no touching the maids or butlers, no asking for personal information, and don't be a creepy stalker. Unless you want to get in trouble, anyway.

Fill in the top level of your comment with the character's name and canon, and put in a scenario or three for people to reply to!

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[While Mukuro would mock and comment on Ken's similarities to canines more often than not, sometimes he couldn't help but think Chikusa was more like one. Steadfastly loyal, well-trained, and constantly looking to him for affection or approval. It took little thought to imagine Chikusa waiting patiently for him to return for decades on end, even if there had been no word from him in ages.

He smirked at the response, expecting nothing less, before leaning back in to reward him for his good behavior.

He let the kiss linger this time, soft and slow, a gloved hand gently cradling Chikusa's cheek.]

[Though Mukuro might be many things, impatient wasn't one of them. He took his time to roll back the sleeve of Ken's uniform, taking great care in smoothing it down once he was finished. He let his lips trace lightly along the newly exposed skin, his eyes fixed on Ken's, alternating between kisses and small bites.

Part of the fun with playing with Ken was knowing he had complete control of the situation, that no matter how badly Ken wanted to reciprocate, he would behave until Mukuro told him otherwise. That power over a person was heady, a different rush from possessing someone.

Chikusa joining in wasn't an unexpected or unwelcome addition, and he let his lashes drop slightly as he felt Chikusa's hands through his hair and his lips against his neck. He couldn't resist chuckling softly, reaching to caress Chikusa's neck almost thoughtlessly.]

Are you sure?

[It was mostly a tease since Chikusa hadn't seemed so keen earlier. Because of that, he would keep his eyes on Ken for now, gently entangling his other hand in his tie to pull him down closer.]

Take off the vest and unbutton your shirt.

[Because there was something satisfying too, in giving orders and watching someone eagerly obey them.]

“Shut up.” It’s not a particularly original or witty reply, but it serves its purpose. More revealing is the way his expression shifts, brows drawing together and his mouth twisting. It’s almost sulking in response to being called out on his own desires.

It’s a goal of his, to strive for distance and apathy, but it’s more than a little impossible for more than one reason. For one thing, when he wants something, he wants it intensely. He wants Mukuro’s attention, he wants to be useful, he wants quiet and stillness… And right now, he wants Ken. Seeing him storm away had tugged loose a fear from its carefully bolted mooring, and now all Chikusa wants is for it to be proven wrong. It’s more than a want at this point. It’s a need. He’d easily murder someone to sate it- for the feel of Ken’s calloused hands against his skin, his teeth digging into flesh, the way his voice would rumble animalistically while driving into him, all of it. His body aches worse than anything in anticipation, and Chikusa can nearly feel a core part of him ready to come undone.

That doesn’t mean he’ll reveal it, of course, or that he’ll not wrinkle his nose at what Ken does. “That’s not going to get it all off of your fingers…” And not under his nails either, probably. If only he’d had more time to prepare for this… Or at least bring hand sanitizer.

[Things Chikusa could do: give Ken an answer]

[Things he’s not going to do: that]

[Instead, his response is completely nonverbal. He tilts his head to the side, still softly working along Mukuro-sama’s throat but able to peer over the rim of his glasses to make direct eye contact with Ken. He keeps it, even as he quietly nips along Mukuro-sama’s jaw.]

[If it looks like a blatant challenge, that’s because it is.]

[After all- he’s the one who found this job in the first place with costumes Mukuro-sama clearly likes, the one who was forced into taking care of Ken and the others since no one else was viable, and the one who has to deal with all this mess. Doesn’t he deserve something for that?]

[...Also Ken started it.]

[Mukuro can likely feel the way his lips turn down as he burrows his face against his neck, even as he sighs against his skin at Mukuro’s touch.]

...Not to Ken when he's this kind of mess…

[Besides, you know, the usual kind of mess that is Ken’s very existence.]

But…. always for you, Mukuro-sama.

[His free hand slips over Mukuro’s chest, thin fingers spreading wide over his shirt. It’s as much a quiet plea for attention as the way his other hand moving in his hair is when he scrapes his nails against Mukuro’s scalp.]

[Mukuro being gentle somehow does more to him than if he’d been rough. Maybe it’s because he’s seen firsthand of how easy it is for Mukuro to be cruel, doing monstrous things with a flick of his wrist, so to be one of the few recipients of this soft touch…]

[His legs quiver beneath him, and he presses closer to suck softly on Mukuro’s lips as the kiss drags on.]

[It was hard not to chuckle as he felt the tremors start through Chikusa's body, and he pulled away slightly the more aggressive Chikusa became, licking his lips as he watched his subordinate.]

Perhaps you should take a seat.

[It was low, a silky suggestion instead of a command.]

[Mukuro pulling away is enough to make Chikusa pause, gears hastily turning in his head. Had that been too much, too fast? Usually he’s aware of how much he can get away with Mukuro-sama, whether holding him back physically from committing murder or pushing when they’re in bed. Still, mist was fickle and slipped through your fingers…]

[That invitation is a relief in that regard, and Chikusa silently takes a seat. Eyes full of wanting focus on Mukuro, patient but only so much so waiting for a command or permission given.]

[My, my, how utterly well-trained and well-behaved Chikusa was. It was enough to make Mukuro chuckle, soft and low, his eyes blazing. Truly, he had been fortunate enough to have Chikusa and Ken at his side, so obedient and pliant and willing. It would be enough to make any man drunk on power, and Mukuro was worse than most when it came to power.]

Well?

[Because he'd given Chikusa enough of a taste for him to give him his opinion, though at the same time he might be a bit put out if Chikusa could remember what they were talking about earlier. It wasn't as conflicting as it sounded.]

"What, you want me to go find a sink?" Ken scoffs at Chikusa, a wicked gleam in his eye that says he knows Chikusa is beyond caring - or complaining - about this the way he normally would. It's probably smugness in that fact which makes him suck more ostentatiously on his fingers as he holds Chikusa's gaze...though it's possible Ken's trying to work Chikusa up with it, too. For all that Ken is as direct as a brick to the face, and tends to have all the grace in foreplay of a dog humping someone's leg, he's not entirely ignorant in the art of seduction. It's just one of those things he knows and tends to ignore.

For all that he knows it's going to be an imperfect job no matter what he does, he actually makes sure his fingers are as clean as a tongue can get them before he continues - actually scrutinizing them as he goes, even the nails. As fucked up as they both are, as ludicrous as the situations in which they habitually find themselves...Ken has his own strange ways of showing how he cares about Chikusa, and this is one of the many weird forms it takes. Consideration, such as they know how to show each other.

It's not long before he's slicking his fingers up with lube instead of saliva, and then he's leaning up against Chikusa's back as he presses two into him, right from the start, even as he presses his face against Chikusa's neck, breathing in the scent of him. He's relatively careful, but...Ken doesn't really go slow, especially when he's worked up. And, fortunately for him, Chikusa's not usually the sort to complain.

[Chikusa is ignoring him! Ken might huffily yell at him about this at any other time, but Mukuro is way more interesting anyway - especially when his mouth and tongue are moving along Ken's arm. Ken whimpers, heated gaze locked on Mukuro, and the decision to ignore Chikusa in return is almost not a decision at all - or at least not one he's making. Mukuro's almost making it for him.

It's not that Chikusa is less important to him than Mukuro...not exactly, anyway. They're both very different to him, but if he had to pick between one or the other, he'd lock up. It'd be like asking him which he needed more to live, his lungs or his heart. But he gets to be with Chikusa all the time, while Mukuro is a rare treat he never gets enough of. So in the face of Mukuro, Chikusa is easily forgotten.

Mukuro doesn't precisely direct it, but when he pulls Ken close and down, Ken readily drops to his knees in front of him. He tears off his vest without a second thought, hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt even as he watches Mukuro expectantly, breathless with anticipation for whatever he'll do next.]

[The question makes him pause, as hard as it may be to tell that from someone so taciturn as Chikusa is regularly. He flicks through his memories again, not taking too long before he remembers the primary question. Ah, right.]

I think… the taste was somewhat faded by the time you kissed me the second time.

[A slow and thoughtful tilt of his head.]

...But I appreciated the texture far more.

[And by ‘texture’ he means ‘kiss’.]

If he were a little more honest, or at least open about it, Chikusa would admit that there’s a tentative sort of concern buried somewhere under all his forced apathy. They’ve already been hitting stumbling blocks today in their relationship too many times for him to be comfortable. There’s no way he’d tell Ken to go clean up even with the usual risks in place- what if this is the last straw? So he keeps his eyes locked onto him, focused on nothing but Ken, and lets the dips and scratches of the wall imprint into his palm.

It’s only when Ken is finally done, pressing up against him, that Chikusa breathes and lets his head fall again. His warmth is so welcome as he presses up against him. Ever since they’ve been young, Ken has felt like a miniature sun in contrast to the way his own body has never quite felt warm enough, and that alone would be enough to make him swallow thickly. Dragging a quiet little twist of sound is fingers shoving into him roughly, and Chikusa’s fingers curl against the wall. Not a name, not even a real word, just a bit of breath that makes sound almost as if by accident. Rough and quick, Ken’s fingers are exactly what’s needed to shake feeling into him everytime.

“Ken…” One hand pulls away from the wall, reaching back to curl his long fingers along the nape of the other’s neck. It’s a way to keep him there… Make sure neither of them can leave this time.

It's only Chikusa's particular brand of paranoia that makes anything Ken does genuinely frightening when it comes to him. Hurting Chikusa, abandoning him...Ken might do it small-scale, or temporarily, when he needs to blow off steam and his emotionally stunted forms of expression offer no other way, but he'd never be serious about such things. Mukuro is the man to whom Ken willingly gives his respect and devotion, and that's incredibly significant...but Chikusa is as fundamental to Ken's ability to operate, as deep and built in a dependency, as the air in his lungs, and that's no less critical. If losing Mukuro would destroy Ken, then losing Chikusa would be like losing himself.

Ken would never leave him for good, and only someone as selectively stupid as Kakipi could ever manage to convince himself that he might.

Ken makes a sound against Chikusa's neck that's almost a purr as his other hand snakes around his hip to stroke his cock - and if it's no more rough than the fingers inside him, it's certainly not less so. This isn't consideration, although it could pass for it in a bad light; it's Ken hungering for Chikusa's reactions, his acknowledgment, and trying to pull as much of those things out of him as possible. If Chikusa needs to be reassured that Ken is there, that he won't leave, then Ken needs to be reassured that Chikusa wants him, needs him, as badly as Ken needs and wants Chikusa. And in Ken's case it's not really a matter of paranoia, so much as there being a lot of room for reasonable doubt - no one acts detached, acts as though nothing much matters to or moves them, like Chikusa.

If it’s reactions Ken wants, then he’ll get them easily like this. The sudden wrap of fingers around his cock makes Chikusa’s body jerk back against him, and his breath rattles its way out of his throat. He squeezes down against what’s inside of him already, reacting on instinct and what feels too damn good.

Something about that purr, too…. Chikusa swallows thickly, trying to smother the pants or soft noises he’s making. Not one to be left behind, he drags his nails through the nape of Ken’s neck and over soft skin and dirty hair. “If-” His voice is strained, muffling back his desire to moan and show pleasure despite all the ways his body is showing it. “If you make me come already…” He’ll be the one to leave this time. If Ken isn’t inside of him, then he doesn’t want to bother with it.

Hungry for something else? My, my how rare.

[Well, not necessarily considering how thirsty his followers' were for his affections, not that he was complaining.

His smirk widened, not unkindly, as he leaned back against his chair to pick up the fork again.]

It's better to finish dinner first. It would be a shame to let all your hard work go to waste.

[He cut off a section off the omurice, holding it out to Chikusa.]

"No way, byon," Ken murmurs, even as he pushes a third finger into Chikusa. He wishes he could just start right now, but...he gets pretty rough. Any less preparation than this and Chikusa will complain, and maybe not have sex with him for awhile. That's worth a little extra effort to avoid. "Want you to come while I'm fucking you, byon."

That doesn't slow his hand on Chikusa's cock, though. And then he's biting at Chikusa's neck, with a low sound that isn't quite a growl but is getting there. The really animalistic noises will happen once he's inside Chikusa.

"Don't come early if you don't want to, byon," he mutters against Chikusa's skin. He wants - needs - to hear Chikusa like this, to feel him like this. Chikusa will just have to hold himself back a little bit.

[Like this is a surprise at all. Still, it’s not necessary for Chikusa to say it, or even raise an eyebrow. Instead, he considers the fork offered to him.]

Mukuro-sama…. I’m supposed to be the one feeding you.

[Not that he’s necessarily complaining about getting some free food himself…]

It’s not the stretch of fingers inside of him. By all means, he knows that feeling is there- light and tingling sensation as his body stretches to accommodate another intrusion, not really pain but still something he can feel. Still, it’s not enough. It’s also not the demanding pace of his fingers stroking his cock. That doesn’t help. Don’t get him wrong. It’s still more than enough to get him hard, every rough stroke from Ken’s calloused palm throbbing throughout his whole body and making him shake.

No, it’s that almost growl, those teeth digging into his skin and sending the sound reverberating along with his pleasure. Chikusa’s nails dig tight into his palms, the whites of his bones visible even on his pale skin, and he tugs on what of Ken’s hair he has.

“Ken.” It takes everything he has to force words out. “It’s not that easy. You know it isn’t.”

If you don't want it...

[He shrugged lightly at that as if he wasn't affronted. Mukuro was going to start edging the fork back towards his own mouth, eyes still focused on Chikusa's face.]

[Ladies, ladies there was clearly enough of this shitty trashlord to go around. Not that Mukuro would want to change their dynamic in any way. Chikusa and Ken had been at odds but bound together long before Mukuro had entered their lives, and he had just become their focal point. A person to follow and also fight over. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if some of the others in their lab had survived and he had different subordinates, or if it was just the luck of the draw that he had gotten two wholly obedient and competitive followers.

He chuckled lightly at Chikusa's response, withdrawing from Ken slightly to reward Chikusa with a small nip against his neck, giving Ken time to strip.]

Kufufufu should I make you two kiss and make up?

[Never let it be said that Mukuro wasn't a bit of a voyeur after all.]

[Oh Mukuro-sama. Chikusa’s fingers reach over to lightly touch the back of his hand to get his attention.]

I didn’t say that, Mukuro-sama…

[He’s not pouting you’re pouting shut up]

[So cute, that Chikusa, when he wanted to be. Mukuro's smirk was entirely too smug and victorious. He canted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised facetiously.]

Then what are you saying, Chikusa?

[The fork was still slowing making its way back to Mukuro. Forgive him, he was clearly dense and Chikusa was going to have to spell it out.]

[If there’s one thing Mukuro-sama isn’t, it’s dense. ~~Well most of the time.~~ There’s the faintest touch of incredulity in the curve of Chikusa’s mouth as he stares over at him, amazed that they’re playing this kind of game.]

...I’d like some as well, Mukuro-sama.

[A pleased sigh escapes him as he feels Mukuro move against him, sinking into even a little bit of attention. Just that much- well, and his own natural lack of effort- is enough to keep him from trying to challenge Ken much more. Besides, this should be enough to work him up. It doesn't take much, with Ken.]

[It's the suggestion for kiss and make up that drags him out of it, a slight frown crossing his face.]

Mukuro-sama...

[No doubt there's a complaint on the way. Ken, after all, is still covered in all manner of sweets and mess even with half his clothing off. Besides, this is a competition for Mukuro's attention. If there's one thing they can both agree on, it's how much that is a prized commodity.]

[Before the complaint can come, however, Chikusa's words trail off and something more akin to thoughtfulness flickers in his usual apathetic stare. After a moment of bandying the pros and cons in his head, he finally gets a voice to what's come to mind.]

The other day, we argued about being patient... [So, you know, just one of the many inane things they bicker about when left to their own devices.] Can I prove why it's good to him?

[Considering the situation, he's obviously not talking about just having Ken 'sit' and 'stay'.]

[~~Wow rude Chikusa, rude.~~ Everything was a power play for Mukuro, and one of the reasons he'd gotten so strong so quickly was because he was a sore loser. He smirked slightly triumphantly at how easily Chikusa had acquiesced, not that there had been any doubt, raising an eyebrow incredulously.]

I'm not very convinced.

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It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake

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