The Night
This is a Noir fanfic, it’s also LEMON. Actually it’s nothing but a
lemon, so if you are looking for a intricate and captivating plot, you
are out of luck . If you don’t know what a lemon is, you shouldn’t be
reading this. This also contains plenty of yuri as can be expected
from a Mireille/Kirika fanfic. So yeah, you’ve been warned, so no
accusing me of permanently scarring you or stealing your innocence or
anything like that ^_- The story takes place after the end of the
series, but I don’t think there is any big spoilers. Anyways, enough
of my babbling, enjoy the story ^^
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Mireille smiled into the darkness. It’s late at night and all the
lights in the apartment was out, but Mireille was still too restless
to go to sleep. It had been a good day, she had struck a superb deal
with Remi and closed the contract to buy his company. Her mind is
still busy making plans for the newest acquisition to her business
empire. Mireille had found she had a taste for business, with her
considerable savings, she had bought a small company out of boredom
which grew with astonishing speed. She was relentless, the energy she
had thrown into assassination now transferred to making her companies
grow in leaps and bounds. Dressed in only the loose shirt she slept
in, she seem to have caught Kirika’s habit of staring out windows,
lost in thought as her mind drifted with a life of it’s own.
"Mireille?"
Kirika had evidently tired of waiting for her. She would never go to
sleep without her. Secretly, Mireille loved the way the girl wanted
her, needed her. Carefully, she felt her way to the bedroom. Since
they no longer left Paris for long periods of time, it was decided
they needed a better apartment to accommodate the two of them. It was
assumed that Kirika will continue to live with her. She didn’t ask her
to leave, and she didn’t give any indication of wanting to. It was
also assumed they will sleep together since somehow the apartment was
only furnished with one large king sized bed. And their relationship
progressed from there. Nothing was said, but somehow they have come to
an understanding. When had things changed between them from being
partners to so much more? Their love had grown slowly, unnoticed, like
the plant they cared for, until one day they woke up to find it
blossoming right under their eyes. Mireille nearly jumped out of her
skin as something brushed her bare legs, her old assassin instincts
automatically snatching up the furry object. It meowed. Mireille let
out her breath and made it safely the rest of the way, sitting down on
the bed and tossing the cat into Kirika’s lap. Prince blinked it’s
luminous eyes at her indignantly before curling up at the foot of the
bed. "I am really going to get rid of that cat someday. Oh, you know I
don’t really mean that." She muttered as Kirika gave her a pleading
look. Kirika sighed and leaned against her chest, her hand reflexively
stroked the unruly black hair.
"How was school?"
"It was ok."
"Need any help with your homework?"
"No, I’m fine. But you seem especially happy today."
Mireille grinned, Kirika always noticed these things. "Yes, the
negotiations went well."
She was distracted by Kirika, who was stroking the fingers of her free
hand lightly.
"I’ll tell you about it later." She murmured, any thought of business
promptly fleeing her mind.
Mireille dragged her hand through the dark locks, cupping her smooth
cheek, Kirika sighed in contentment and nuzzled against her palm.
Mireille gently pushed her backwards until she knelt over her body.
Time has worn away Kirika’s shyness and fears, but she still let
Mireille take the initiative. Softly, Mireille kissed her floral
scented hair, then her closed eyes, nose and finally her soft lips.
She explored her mouth leisurely, tasting her. Kirika let her hands
barely brush Mireille’s back, lightly running her fingers down her
spine. If Mireille was fire, than Kirika was like ice. The blonde
possessed little patience in bed, her skillful fingers spreading
blazing trails of passion. Kirika likes to run her hands down her
lover’s body, soothingly and seemingly randomly. It amused Mireille at
first who thought it was shyness, but she soon realized Kirika was
mapping her body with her hands. From the faint noises she made, the
slight twitches of her muscles, Kirika found the sensitive parts of
her body, figured out how much pressure to exert to produce the
greatest pleasure, and exactly how Mireille would react to her touch.
Sometimes Mireille thought she knew her body better than herself.
Kirika could bring her to the very brink with out touching her breasts
or her sex. In short, the young girl had become quite competent in a
very short amount of time. To Kirika, sex was just a problem like any
other, and she had found many creative solutions to it. Mireille had
always found her a little odd. She enjoyed the wild, sleepless nights,
but feels just as content cuddled up to Mireille listening to her talk
about nothing at all. It was quite endearing. Mireille abandoned her
lips, eager to continue downwards. She kissed her way down her neck,
nipping lightly and then sucking hard enough to leaving a small mark.
She heard a quiet hiss as Kirika breathed out, her breathing slowing
and becoming more controlled. It was a natural reaction born from the
days when she had to hide her emotions. As an assassin, she must be
calm and controlled at all times. It used to drive Mireille crazy. It
became a game to her, to see if she can make Kirika voice her
pleasure. She did learn from Kirika that patience had it’s rewards.
Her hands lifted the tanktop she wore, briefly brushing her ribs,
lingering over the bullet scars marring the otherwise flawless skin.
Silently, she kissed those scars, reminding herself of the trials they
have endured, and her partner’s love for her, if she needed one she
thought touching the most recently healed bullet wound. It muscles
tightened under her fingers as Kirika arched her back, silently asking
for more. Mireille licked her lips, a predatory gleam coming into her
eyes as she pushed the loose tanktop to her shoulders. Her teeth
grazed the underside of her breast eliciting a delightful gasp. She
let her long blonde mane drag over her torso, the silky strands
tickling her skin unmercifully. Kirika grasped her hair with one hand,
and then the other to press her closer as she licked and bit a fiery
trail up the valley between her breasts, careful not to brush the
aching nipples before tracing the delicate collarbones with the tip of
her tongue delighting in the way she arched against her making small
noises of pleasure deep in her throat. Playfully, she licked at the
taut muscle on the underside of her arm before letting her attention
drift back to her small firm breasts.
Her pleasant journey was abruptly interrupted by a furry body bumping
against her face. With a very unladylike snarl, Mireille stood up,
grabbed the cat unceremoniously by the scruff of the neck and dropped
it out the door closing it firmly behind the troublesome feline.
"I think he was jealous."
Intoned Kirika in her usually quiet voice. Her face was
expressionless, but Mireille knew she was laughing inside.
"You know I don’t like guys getting that close to you." She joked,
plopping back down beside her.
"Mmmm."
Kirika took the opportunity to removed the tanktop from where it was
tangled around her shoulders, tossing it carelessly to one side.
Mireille gave her one long look with smoldering blue eyes and asked.
"So where were we?"
Kirika answered with a long kiss. Mireille, lay back pulling Kirika on
top of her, content for the moment to let her partner do the work.
Kirika paused to study her face, Mireille nodded for her to continue.
Somehow, she still retained a awe inspiring aura dignity around her
even laying in bed half naked. Kirika’s teeth tugged at her earlobe,
her tongue found the sensitive spot behind her ear that made her throw
back her head with a small growl, baring the pale line of her throat.
The Japanese girl followed that trail to the opening of her shirt, her
lips never leaving the creamy skin. Nimble fingers unfastened the
oversized shirt, Mireille sat and flung it away, no longer passive,
but consumed with passion. Kirika sensed her partner’s urgency and
denied her no longer. Mireille gasped as Kirika’s hot mouth found her
nipple, one hand clamping down hard on the girl’s shoulder and the
other fisting the bed sheets. Kirika ignored her partner’s movements,
diligently sucking on the aroused flesh, biting down just hard enough
to make Mireille moan and writhe beneath her. She abandoned the
hardened nub only to turn her attention to it’s twin, lavishing it
with the same attention. One hand cupped the abandoned breast,
squeezing the soft supple flesh and rolling and pinching the stiff
teat crowning it between her fingers. Mireille closed her eyes, her
jaw clenching tightly as the glorious feeling burned through her body.
Fire spread to her loins and she could feel wetness trickling down her
thighs. Suddenly, Kirika decided to move on. Mireille held back a
protest knowing what was in store will be so much sweeter. Kirika
touched her knees, slowly moving her hands upwards, caressing the
massaging her toned thighs until they reached the juncture of her long
legs. Mireille bit her lips in anticipation. She yelped at the first
tentative brush of her sex, no matter how she prepared herself, the
lightning like feeling was always unexpected. Kirika applied pressure
and Mireille could no longer hold back the cries of ecstasy. She
hugged Kirika tightly, pressing her body flush against her. She arched
her hips, Kirika’s fingers sliding deep inside of her, pumping in and
out in a steady rhythm bringing Mireille dangerously close, teetering
precariously on the fine line between pain and pleasure. At the same
time, her hand found her clitoris, stroking the little cluster of
nerves until it drove her over the edge. Mireille didn’t bother to
hold back her scream as she climaxed, her inner walls clamping down
hard on Kirika’s fingers. Kirika didn’t stop, instead, she pressed
upward hitting the perfect spot, driving Mireille over the edge again.
"Kirika!"
Her name escaped the blonde’s lips as a heated moan. Mireille
shuddered, caught in the throes of her orgasm, her body locking for a
moment as pleasure flooded her senses. A very satisfied Mireille
collapsed onto her back, small blissful tremors still rippling through
her body.
After a long period of silence, Kirika crawled back up her body,
peering at her with some concern... only to be flipped onto her back
with Mireille kneeling over her.
"I’m not done yet."
Her eyes never leaving Kirika’s, Mireille seductively licked her
fingers clean. The pads of Kirika’s hands were unusually callused, but
they were surprisingly sensitive, a fact that Mireille took full
advantage of. She teased the webbing between her fingers, sucking
strongly on one digit. Kirika watched her calmly, betraying none of
the excitement she felt inside. Finally, Mireille got tired of this
pursuit, letting go of Kirika’s wrist to pursue more interesting
places. Kirika relaxed, draping her arms around Mireille’s neck as she
stripped her of the rest of her clothing. Mireille felt those arms
tightened around as she stroked her between her legs. She was slick
enough one of her fingers slid in easily. Her lips curved upwards in a
small smile as she felt how wet she was, adding a second finger,
hearing a low hiss Kirika inhaled sharply. She ducked out of Kirika’s
grip, sliding down until her lips were almost touching her center. She
knew Kirika could feel her judging from the way her hips twitched
everything she breathed out. With agonizing slowness, she worked her
way up from her inner thighs, eagerly lapping away the traces of her
arousal, reveling in a taste she couldn’t quite describe. It’s at
these times her eloquence fail her, and not a single quote from the
vast knowledge of literature could describe how she felt. With the
first flick of her tongue on the other girl’s sex, she could feel
Kirika’s calm crumbling. She placed on hand on her stomach to hold her
still as she bucked under her. She stroked her clitoris with her
tongue, massaging the small hard bud. Her fingers continued to stretch
her passage, occasionally hitting the spot that. Skillfully, curled
her tongue around the bundle of nerves simultaneously sucking on it.
Kirika was bent double for the force of her orgasm, gasping out
Mireille’s name again and again, her soft cries echoing around the
room.
Mireille stretched out beside her so she could bury herself in her
arms. To Kirika, this was the best part, being held so lovingly as the
sweat cooled on her body, savoring the faint warmth and traces of
pleasure. When Mireille, stroked her bare back with gentle hands, she
thought she would burst from happiness. Mireille’s presence was
extremely soothing, Kirika’s head was pillowed comfortably on her
chest, the rest of her body huddled close for warmth, Kirika was very
close to falling asleep when Prince scratched at the door.
"I’m never going to have any peace here while that thing is around."
Said Mireille with a resigned sigh.
Kirika smiled, and crawled out of her embrace, opening the door.
Picking up Prince, she petted him to soothe his wounded pride and
deposited him back at the foot of the bed before snuggling back under
the warm sheets.
"Mireille?"
"Hmm?" She was almost asleep, the cat was already snoozing happily on
the blanket in between them.
"I love you."
Many people use these 3 words far too carelessly, but Kirika always
means them. Even if she had said them a thousand times before,
Mireille still felt it echo deep in her heart, like a stone breaking
the calm surface of a pond, the ripples only grow bigger with time.
"I love you too." She meant it, more than she cared to admit. "Go to
sleep."
"Good night Mireille."
She reached over to smooth the rumpled black hair affectionately.
"Good night."
Since she first read the word love in a fairy tale book as a child,
Mireille had always wondered what it’s like. During her dark career,
when life was worth so little, she wondered if she will ever have true
love. When she rescued Kirika from the lava pit and begged her, the
first time she had pleaded with anyone, to live, she wondered if she
loved this girl. Now she knows the answers. She closed her eyes and
drifted off to sleep, a small smile lingering upon her lips.
The End
Authors note: Well, this fic was an exercise in writing a yuri lemon.
A good lemon is actually very difficult to write (I applaud the few
good ones out there) so I thought it would be a challenge. I haven’t
completed a fanfic for a long time (I have 6 or 7 unpublished on going
ones) and I was tired of writing multi-chapter fics. I just finished
watching Noir a few weeks back and decided it would a nice change from
Utena. This is actually a spin off from a longer Noir fic I was
writing, I got 2/3s of the way through and decided it sucked, so out
of frustration came this story. I completed most of it in one night,
staying up until 1 in the morning to finish it, so forgive any
grammatical errors ^^. I’m not sure I completely grasped Mireille and
Kirika’s personality, like I said, it’s more an exercise in lemon
writing than a Noir story, so parts of the story might clash with
other people’s interpretation of their character. I felt their isn’t
enough Noir lemons around, so I made Mireille and Kirika the victim of
my latest little experiment. Now I return them back to the obsessed
Noir fans, only slightly damaged and worn ^_^.
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