Chapter 7: I swear it was the Charm

You admit that you did not once expect this, your imagination not-withstanding. You reacted quite well, however, you note with some pride. The Nine Tailed Fox never wore a single item of undergarment since her induction into the League, you had reeled at that. Granted, however, she had been a fox half her life, and foxes don't... you perish the thought as your attempt fails yet one more time. Please, you beg, let it fit this time.

But then again, it is all you can do not to internally moan as Ahri holds up the bandages and wiggles her eyebrows at you.

'I do not understand the need to bind my chest', she pouts. 'I do not like how it's so...'

'-constrictive?', you suggests.

'Yes!', she exclaims, then frowned,' I am proud of my breasts and I don't want to make them so uncomfortable!'

You sigh as you take the wrappings back. Her eyes narrowed after the offending article and came to stop on you. You do not know what she was looking at. There was a set of bandages wrapped round your bosom, too; they were effective support, after all, and off the fields you interchanged them with bras whenever you felt like- and her adamant refusal to get into them hurt a little. And then it hit you.

You blush as you held your hands over your chest- even though you were fully clothed and had nothing to cover- and turn away a little under the intensity of her scrutiny.

She is silent and you do not look at her.

'What?', you mumble.

'Nothing... it's just... your-'

'-stop it.' your gaze drops.

'It's okay', there is a smirk in her tone, you can hear it. 'It's no biggie.'

You wince at the double innuendo and look up to see a grinning Ahri with her hands on her hips and ample, womanly breasts heaved at you with about as much subtlety as a... well, you perish the thought, because she was making you embarrassed over petty things and you too were proud of your own... um... breasts. Even if they were a little small...

Ahri keeps giggling and you feel deeply insecure for no very logical reason at all.

'Oh c'mon, stop it.'

She smirks, but ceases wagging her tits at you and complies, lips now pursed as her face takes on a look of ponderance.

'Let's try on bras then', you speak up, the blush still coloring your cheeks, when you reach into her massive wardrobe. You look at her barely concealed cleavage, then at the white, frilly, lacy thing in your hand, then back at her cleavage.

You toss the bra back where it came from and rummage for something a few cups bigger because, by the heavens, Ahri's bust size would settle for no less.

Lucky you, the options seemed endless; Ahri had a full wardrobe of some of the most fancy bras and underwear you have ever seen- all gifts from who you guessed were horny Summoners vying for her attention and hoping to perhaps catch her wearing these things.

'Ana', she sounds bored, 'remind me why I need to wear those things again?'

'Sag.'

'What?'

'Your breasts will sag in later years if you don't support it now and...uh', you become very self-conscious of yourself as you think at a mile a second- Gods above, images of your own boss and a certain Bounty Hunter kept popping up in your mind, 'ah... back pain?!'

Ahri harrumphed and distracted herself with combing her tails while you finally found what you seek. Perfect. 65E. Never in your life have you had to think of handling such a thing. You do not want to entertain the thought that you could wear a cup over your head like a hat. You bring it to the Nine Tailed Fox and try not to stare at her nakedness as she takes the bra off your hands.

A moment of silence follows as she tries to figure it out.

'Huh?'

'What?'

'I can't reach behind me. Send help.'

Great, you think. Of all the bras you could have given her, you gave a hind strap one. You keep your eyes glued to the ceiling as you come around and attempt to hook the clasps together; it is not easy when your fingers against her skin makes you fumble and those tails of hers keep absent-mindedly, or not, tickling against your waist and hips.

'Say, Summoner. Don't these things come in sizes?'

You blanch.

'Y-yes? Why?', you stutter as the bra continues to dodgedly evade your attempts at securing it.

'What size am I...', you sigh with relief, '... and what size are you?'

Fuck.

'You are 65E', you mutter. Finally. The clasps were secure. You take a step back as she hefts her... um... melons in her hands and turn on you, wiggling her eyebrows seductively.

'Huh?'

'Y-yes?'

'I don't understand breast sizes, Summoner. You will need to give me a point of reference.' You so do not like where she is going with this. You take an instinctive step back as she advances one step on you.

'So. Ana. What is your size?'

'I-i don't-aughh!' your protests are cut off as she pounces on you, predatory. You are thrown onto the bed, a playful giggling Ahri right on top of you.

Roughly, she grabs you there and actually yank, causing you to cry out in embarassment and pain. Heat suffused your cheeks and you do not meet her eyes as you try to push her away, in vain, for her many tails had your arms pinned down beside your head.

'Mhm... these are nice. I like them.'

'P-please. S-stop this Ahri !', you cry as she kneads and squeeze your conservative chest. You feel like a cow being milked. That did not help at all. This is so vulgar. So inappropriate. You struggle wildly under her as she adamantly holds you down.

'Not until you tell me your size!', she croons as she leans forward. Her breath tickles you and you look up to see hazy, heavily lidded eyes staring at you. You feel too hot. This was no good. You look frantically left and right for an escape. Any. None.

'65A!', you scream. Anything to get out of this compromising position. Ahri's grip loosens momentarily and you seize this chance, somehow managing to slip between her and the bed.

Before she says one word you are out of the door and running off screaming like a madwoman, past Lady Karma who gave you a bewildered stare.

In another part of the Institute Emi stops her scribbles and perk up her ears. She could have sworn she heard a scream just seconds ago. Chalking it up to her imagination, the Ionian goes back to her sketchings as a lazy Caitlyn winks at her from on top of the sheets. Ripper the Attack Cat pounces onto Emi's lap and she tries not to get distracted as she puts the finishing touches to the portrait.

'Get over here.'

(break)

Ohaiyo! I owe Six a cookie and then some for pitching in to help write this chapter. Six, you rock! Well haroe there readers, as you know, I am support velkoz. Yes. The entirety of Cookies will be light fluffy stuff, none of the dark tones of OTW will be here, and also since chapter lengths are dramatically reduced updates will be at the slowest weekly. I am now employed at Subway serving sandwiches and cookies, so for my OTW readers sorry! Updates will slow down somewhat. Anyways. Hope you enjoy the read!