Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
roommate to eventual lovers au. written for UlquiHime Week as hosted by @ulquihimeweek no i did not find out about it on day two and then hurry to catch up. anyway.
day one: heart. ulquiorra's heart threatens to break and orihime is there to catch the pieces. trans ulquiorra and nb orihime.
Despite his warning not to stay up late, Orihime is waiting for Ulquiorra when he walks into the apartment, throwing his jacket across the room and letting his keys clatter to the floor. His hands are shaking as he runs through through his hair, his face still hot with embarrassment and shame as he closes the door behind him, quickly locking it up for the night. All the while, Orihime watches him placidly from their spot on the couch, burnt orange hair tied up into a knot on top of their head and grey eyes wide with concern as they stretch a hand out to him.
“Ulqui?” Their voice is soft and uncertain, as if they can tell how close he is to losing it just from his mannerisms alone. “Do you want to sit down and talk about what happened?”
“What’s to talk about? He really was a fucking pig.” He doesn’t have to tell Orihime who he’s talking about; the two of them had an entire conversation about the breakup he was walking into before he left the apartment just so they would know what to expect when he returned.
Orihime nods slowly, stretching out their hand a little farther, curling their fingers in the sleeve of Ulquiorra’s t-shirt and giving it a gentle tug. “Why don’t you come sit down on the couch?”
As soon as Ulquiorra sits down, Orihime is up and into the kitchen, the familiar sounds of tea being made in the other room telling him that his roommate has no intentions of letting him go to bed angry. Three months ago, Ulquiorra did not have a roommate, between them at the time. Grimmjow moved out so he could move in with Luppi and Ulquiorra had to go through the process of putting up ads all over again. In the end, it was Loly who saved his ass and found him a roommate that he could live with, even if their personalities were wildly different.
When they return to the living room, Orihime has two mugs of tea and sets one in front of Ulquiorra, keeping the other to themself. “It’s sleepy time tea so you’ll sleep better.”
“Thank you.” He doesn’t want tea. Tea isn’t going to fix the injustice of it all, the fact that his boyfriend— his ex- boyfriend— was able to look him in the eye and admit sex with him was just one big experiment after all. “I don’t know why I expected him to be different than the rest.”
“I’m sorry he treated you like he did. You deserve a lot better than that.” Orihime keeps a knee curled against their chest, balancing their mug on the top of it.
Though he doesn’t want the tea, Ulquiorra still picks the cup up and takes a sip of it, needing something to settle his nerves and the sourness curling hot and uncomfortable in his gut. It’s not unusual, of course; all of his exes have proven themselves to be shitty men who see him as not a real man, as less than, as different, as an experiment and I don’t know about touching it, do you really need me to get you off or can you just do it yourself?
Just thinking about it makes him want to throw the cup and shatter it. Makes him want to cry. Makes him want to rip his own skin off and start over, maybe with something that makes men look at him as real and not like someone dressing up in a gender that is not their own.
Orihime must know what he’s feeling because they set their cup down on the table, easing across the couch cushions on their knees to wrap their arms around his shoulders. Usually, Ulquiorra would push them off because he doesn’t like physical contact unless he initiates it, but just this once he lets it pass, curling his hand around their forearm.
“I’m sorry,” they whisper against his ear, and Ulquiorra squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want pity but he knows it’s not that. He knows better from them. “I can imagine how much it hurts right now. You thought he was going to be different and he just turned out like all the others.”
Ulquiorra laughs, and the sound is hollow and empty. “Are they all going to be the same? Because I’d rather be fucking celibate than have to deal with this again.”
“I don’t blame you. You’ve gone through a lot because of men like this.” Despite not having known him that long, Orihime knows his dating history; the two of them discussed it once when they asked him about it, having had little luck in the dating department themself.
“It gets exhausting. I just want a man who loves me for who I am and doesn’t… Doesn’t…” Ulquiorra trails off, staring down into his cup of tea, not willing to fill in the blank.
Orihime kisses his hair, smoothes it back behind his ear. “I know. You want someone who doesn’t treat you as subhuman. And you deserve that and so much more, Ulqui.”
“I’d settle for that,” he admits, and Orihime hums softly in his ear. “Move back, I need to get my binder off because it’s starting to really bother me.”
“You left it on too long?” Orihime asks, cocking their head as he wrestles the compression garment out from under his shirt and over his head, dropping it on the arm of the couch.
“No. It just bothers me sometimes.” Ulquiorra rubs his ribs, wincing at the tenderness there. He only bothers wearing it out in public so that people are more likely to read him as a man, having no real desire to bind at home. While every man he’s ever been intimate with treats his body with children’s gloves and avoids entire parts of it altogether, Ulquiorra has reclaimed it as his own and wants to keep it just as it is. “Have you ever thought about getting one?”
Laughing softly, Orihime presses their hands against their own chest. “Do you really think it’d do me much good? But no, not really, I’ve never wanted one for myself and seeing the way you struggle with them with experience really just brings it home for me.”
That’s understandable; Ulquiorra wouldn’t wish the pain of sore ribs on anyone in the world. The one time he’d worn a binder for too long— plans were changed, he was out longer than intended— taking it off made him cry. He stayed in bed for two days recovering from it, and his breathing was weird for a while. If he’d taken it too far, he could have risked breaking a rib.
“Let me help!” Orihime says, reaching for him, and he sighs but relents just the same.
He turns his back to them, pulling his shirt up just enough that they can get their soft hands on his bare skin, massaging away the soreness with an efficiency that is unfair. “I just. I’m so tired of this happening. Cis guys always treat me like shit and I hate it so much.”
“It might be a sign that you can’t trust dating them,” Orihime quips, their thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “It’s why I don’t, not after the last time. I got tired of being his pretty little girlfriend so I dropped him and moved on with my life.”
“That’s the fucking worst,” Ulquiorra admits, and Orihime hums in agreement.
It isn’t like he only likes men but there have been women who want to treat him like their girlfriend, who look at his body and hear that he has no desire to change it and make decisions about his identity based on that. Gender doesn’t work like that; he doesn’t have to get surgery to make his identity valid and there’s nothing worse than having someone who believes that to be true, who has been thinking awful things about him all this time without him knowing.
Orihime tugs his shirt back into place when they’re done with him. “There we go. Does that feel better? Also, drink your tea. It’s going to help you sleep, and you need sleep.”
“Thank you, Orihime.” Ulquiorra picks up the cup and drinks deeply from it, draining half of it in one mouthful. “You really don’t have to go so far to take care of me, you know.”
A one-shoulder shrug is his answer as Orihime finishes their tea. “I know, but I’m just that way naturally, I like taking care of people. Besides, right now? You definitely needed it.”
That’s fair. Ulquiorra finishes his tea and settles back into the couch, not willing to admit how much he really did need to be coddled tonight. “I feel like I’m going to end up dying alone at this rate unless I do go through with a full transition, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to alter my body like that, I like it just the way it is. But the way people are about it… It just… I wish…”
He trails off and tries not to cry, his eyes stinging and his face hot as he presses a hand over the top half of his face to hide it from view. A moment later and Orihime is there, reassuring and warm, pulling him against their chest as their fingers soothe through his hair. When a small broken sound slips from his lips against his will, Orihime hugs him all the tighter. Their warmth and serenity sinks into his bones, protecting him from the coldness of the world for a moment.
Dully, he realizes he can totally understand the fact they like helping people so much.
“Ulqui,” they say, fingers gently tipping his chin so that he has to look at them, “you are not going to die alone, and you don’t have to change your body. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“Thank you. I’m just frustrated.” Ulquiorra sniffles and wipes away a stray tear, hating the fact that his ex is probably fine tonight, that Ulquiorra’s heart is the one shattered.
Orihime hums softly, rubbing a sympathetic hand up and down his arm. “I understand. I really do know what you’re going through. But it doesn’t make you any less than who you are, and someone is going to come along one day, see the whole picture, and fall madly in love.”
The thought is ridiculous to him; no one has ever liked him for the way he is. If it’s not his body and gender not matching the way people expect them to, it’s that his hair is too long, or his skin is too pale, or he’s too skinny, or too short. A myriad of stupid and pathetic reasons. “Thank you, Orihime. I’m sorry to always put so much of this on you every time it happens.”
“I’m just glad you finally dumped that creep before he could say anything else about you.” The disgust in their tone makes him laugh softly; the ex had said… A few things, and Ulquiorra let most of them go because he just wanted someone and then it just went too far.
“Come here.” Orihime catches him by the arm and draws him back into their embrace, leaning back on the couch so his head is pillowed on their ample chest. “I’ve known you for months now and you’re so amazing to me, the fact you just keep getting up every time you get knocked down, but I don’t want you to keep dating guys who just end up treating you like shit.”
Ulquiorra nods to show he’s listening. “I’ll do my best not to run into another one if I can avoid it.”
“I mean that. You deserve so much better. You deserve someone who’s going to take the best care of you ever.” Orihime presses their cheek against the top of his head and he closes his eyes, drinking in the gentle attention. “If the next one is mean to you, I’ll fight them.”
The comment has Ulquiorra laughing; Orihime is shorter than he is, all soft curves and smiles and sunshine but he thinks, someone, that he wouldn’t put it past them to be able to hold their own in a fight. For now, though, he enjoys the attention. He’s so starved for genuine affection and tenderness that anything wholly real is enough to take the starch from his muscles and the ache from his heart, and he needs that doubled down right now.
“Are you going to be okay tonight?” they ask him, tapping him on the cheek.
Sighing softly, he nods and pushes himself into a sitting position. “I’ll be just fine. Thank you for looking after me once more. I needed it more than I wanted to admit.”
“I know how are you. It’s not a problem.” When they smile, the warmth of it soothes his soul. He has never, in his entire life, met someone as genuinely caring and kind as Inoue Orihime. “Now get to bed because you have work in the morning and I don’t want you to be sad and tired and upset before you go to work. One makes the other worse for sure. Now, bed!”
Ulquiorra does his genuine best not to roll his eyes at them as he stands, stretching his arms over his head, the bottom of his shirt riding up enough that he has to yank it back down into place. “Of course, of course. So bossy. You’re more like my partner than my roommate.”
“If your partners aren’t going to do their job looking out for your best interests, I’ll just have to hold down the fort myself.” Orihime smiles sweetly at him, switching off the television.
He ends up following them to their bedroom when they get ahead of him down the hallway, shaking his head at the state of the room. It’s clean but so soft and pastel and fuzzy and warm, a stark contrast to his own room done in dark colors. But Orihime is happy here, and they pay their share of the rent without a complaint, so Ulquiorra is satisfied.
“When are you going to end up finding a partner?” he asks them curiously.
Orihime pauses, halfway through turning down their comforter for the night. “Hmm? I don’t know. I haven’t put that much thought in it, if I’m being entirely honest.”
“That’s surprising. With as much as you like taking care of people and such.” Ulquiorra shrugs a shoulder, not sure how else to put it without sounding weird. Orihime is sunshine and light, and he would expect them to attract more than a few moths by this point.
“I’m in no great hurry. I’m genuinely enjoying being single and not having to worry about returning text messages or anything.” Orihime consults their basket of stuffed animals, then picks out a pale blue and pink plush bat, walking up to him with it. “Here. Take Luna with you tonight. They’ll keep you company and make it a little less lonely of a night for you.”
Blinking slowly, Ulquiorra accepts the offering. “Luna? You named them after the moon?”
“Well. They’re a bat.” Orihime shrugs, as if this should make sense. Oddly, it does.
“I’ll take good care of them while I’m borrowing them.” He’s stalling for time, and he knows it. Once the door is shut and the darkness wraps itself around him, he’s not going to be able to sleep. Or he’s going to cry himself to sleep. Both are equally awful.
Orihime nods, then brushes past him, taking him by the arm and dragging him toward his own bedroom. “Wait, I have to show you this playlist. It’s also going to help you get to sleep.”
Now that? That is something Ulquiorra could definitely get into. “What is it?”
“It’s like, music box stuff? They’re covers of other songs but they’re meant to sound like lullabies. Give me your phone.” Orihime makes grabby hands at him and he surrenders the phone, turning down his own bedcovers as he changes into his pajamas.
Orihime is, admittedly, one of the only people Ulquiorra is comfortable changing in front of if only because the similarities in their situations and between their bodies ensures that they never look at him any differently no matter how much of him they see. While he changes, they set his phone on the charger for him and start up a playlist of music that winds through the room soft and sweet. It makes him think of them, and that makes him smile.
“There we go. That’s the best I can do for you to make sure you get lots of sleep for work in the morning.” Orihime beams up at him, and Ulquiorra nods his head in assent.
Before he can prepare for it, Orihime steps into his personal space once more, wrapping their arms around his waist and pulling him in close. There are no words exchanged; Ulquiorra closes his eyes and allows himself to sag into their embrace for just a moment. It’s like they know just how much he’s going to be suffering on his own tonight, especially given the nature of the breakup and how, for a while, he thought things were going to be okay.
Things, as it turns out, are rarely ever okay when it comes to his love life.
“Thank you, Orihime.” He wishes he could convey just how much this all means to him, but he’s not sure how and has never been good with feelings. “I’m sure I’ll sleep just fine with this music, the tea, and Luna. You should get to sleep as well. I kept you up so late.”
“I wanted to be up when you came home.” Orihime kisses him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, Ulqui. Try to get some sleep if you can, and when you’re off work this evening we can get drunk and talk about all the things about that asshole that you hated.”
Ulquiorra smiles down at them. He can’t help himself. “That sounds like a plan.”
noboru/yamato; brown/akune/nakamon || teen & up audiences || 3k
noboru will always have the knowledge he picked up as a member of iemura group-- the coldness, the sharpness, and the lack of trust for those who would call themselves "allies" in a time like this.
“Sorry to drop in like this without warning but we were just in the area.” Floral Print waggles his eyebrows like he knows Jesse’s favorite lie by heart, and knows just how much of a lie it is.
“Cobra’s not here.” Noboru’s voice comes out colder than he intends it and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Yamato twitch in response. “If you’re here to see him, you might as well go back home. To my understanding, he’s with one of your people tonight.”
Floral Print stares at him for just a moment, then smirks. “You’re the former yakuza.”
That he knows this makes Noboru’s hands curl into fists, and he doubts Cobra would chastise him too harshly if he slipped and threw a punch right now. “I am. Take that as a warning.”
nothing lasts forever, and hiroto knows this better than anyone after he loses smokey. but a chance encounter when he comes to visit smokey's grave has him reconsidering the life he's going to lead now that smokey is gone.
Yu beams up at him, then sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, but, uh, Takeshi’s not holding up too well? Stressful, getting everything put back together and with Smokey gone… Yeah. I was just coming to ask if maybe you’d come to see him, too.”
Hiroto knows Takeshi well; Smokey kept him the closest and spoke so highly of him, leaving the Rude Boys and the Nameless Street in his hands when he passed away. Even though the two of them never had a close relationship, Hiroto can feel nothing but pride for Takeshi being able to pick up the pieces at all given everything he lost and the serious injury he avoided when the rubble fell down atop him. Word traveled; Cobra told Hiroto about how Takeshi could have died, about how the Nameless Street could have lost their second leader, and quickly.
He said it in a tone of voice that suggested Hiroto needed to move his ass to come see everyone here, unsurprising for the leader of Sannoh Rengokai.
“Yeah,” Hiroto says, giving Pi’s thighs a squeeze. “I’ve come to see you all.”
bernie has a microphone on his forearm and pearl can sing. pearl has binary code and bernie would rather not think that hard about it. sometimes you find the one you never wanted to look for and it all works out anyway.
“Oh yeah? That’s awesome . We should collab sometime.” Pearl winks at him and takes a step back, most likely on his way out the door.
Bernie should let it go, really he should, but Pearl is hot and he’s thirsty. “Collab? You DJ, too?”
“Nah, not in a million years. Don’t have the skill but I think it’s amazing.” Pearl raises a hand to his mouth, fingers half-curled like he’s holding something. “I rap.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ryu and ice were two different people in a world that wanted neither of them. together, against the odds, they created a place they could be themselves, and be with each other.
“Isn’t this great?” Ice spins around in the room, arms outstretched, clearly pleased with himself. The dark red walls, the black curtains, the obnoxious gold crimson bedding, albums hung on the wall at a contrast with artwork Ryu recognizes. Their favorite prints, given a place of pride.
“What is this?” Ryu glances around the room apprehensively. They had missed the opening of the Funk Jungle and much of the construction as well, having fled back to Kuryu to cut as much red tape for Ice as possible. Even if they had money, Ice had been born in Little Asian and lacked most of the documentation necessary to rent a building. “Is this your bedroom?”
Ice scoffs at them, takes them by the wrists and draws them out of the doorway and deeper into the room. “This is our room, Ryu. I put it together for the two of us. Do you like it?”
the mighty warriors and prison gang are hired by kuryu for a mission that should be cut and dry. ice stares down a gun and wishes ryu could just come home.
He doesn’t expect to have one pointing right at his face when he steps over the body of one of the guards, the click of the safety being removed making him freeze in place.
Shit. He hadn’t planned for guns. Most yakuza in this area seem to be firmly against them, fighting with fists (or blades, for Ryu and Genji and occasionally Nikaido). Ice can take most physical hits and keep coming, and he might be able to survive a bullet or two, but not to the brain. And if the old man standing in front of him pulls that trigger, that’s where it’s headed.
“You made a mistake.” The man— the head of this family, Ice recognizes him from the pictures— smiles at him, head cocked to the side. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”
Ice heaves a sigh, rolling his neck to work the cricks out of it. “You gonna shoot me, then?”
kirio finds out that gaku has never been kissed before and endeavors to change it himself.
“Oh? That’s too bad.” Kirio runs his thumb over his lower lip, watching the way Gaku looks down and away, neatening up his books carefully. “I suppose Marumo is more open to mean words—”
“What?” Gaku jumps at the mention of Marumo’s name. “I haven’t kissed him either. Shut up.”
Kirio smirks. “Which one, then? Shiro? He doesn’t seem like the type to—”
“No!” Gaku groans, drags his hands over his face, the pink in his cheeks blooming like cherry blossoms. Sometimes, every now and then, he can be irresistibly cute, but never while trying, which is what Kirio enjoys the most. When he tries, he’s awful. “I haven’t… Listen, I just, I haven’t had time to kiss anyone. I’ve been too busy fighting, you know?”
Kirio rocks back on his heels, not sure he just heard correctly. “You’ve never kissed anyone? ”
