What would happen if Yunjin strips Kazuha’s defences bit by bit, and then all at once? The Japanese girl is like an iceberg, floating still and hiding multitudes beneath the depths. And Yunjin is the icebreaker ploughing through the waves to break her apart. Or so she thought.
The hotel room is dead quiet, save for the click of Yunjin’s tongue and the faint sounds from her phone. It’s 2:47 a.m. The concert ended hours ago, but she’s still riding the post-performance high.
She’s sprawled on her bed in nothing but an oversized tour T-shirt, thighs sticky, scrolling through the fancams. Again. More specifically, the bridge between Unforgiven and Antifragile where she does a particular move that makes the crowd go wild.
She scrolls one-handed, the other already slipping down below, teasing. The clip autoplays again: black spaghetti strap top, leather pants vacuum-sealed to her ass, ginger hair spilling forward as she bends, palms spreading herself open for the camera, topping it off with a cheeky little wink.
The comments are feral:
“I’d bury my face in her ass after she peeled off those hot pants”
“This made me nut uncontrollably”
Emojis. An eggplant. Three droplets of something. A peach.
Her breath stutters, heat pooling low in her stomach. She slips a hand under the hem of the shirt, simply circling and teasing. It’s not quite enough, because getting off by herself always felt hollow. She wants someone else’s hands spreading her open while she watches herself be a slut on stage.
She wants Kazuha’s hands. Or Kazuha’s long, thick cock. Or both. Definitely both.
A memory bubbles up, unbidden: dance studio, late at night, exhaustion from practicing the bridge move. Yunjin dropping low, rolling her hips, slapping her own ass just to test the move. Again, and again, and again.
Kazuha’s in the corner, supposedly stretching her hamstrings, but her gaze was locked on Yunjin’s reflection the whole time. Eyes wide, pupils blown, throat bobbing every time Yunjin arched deeper.
Tonight on stage she’d done it two feet from the younger girl, close enough to feel Kazuha’s shaky breath on her shoulder. Then, as she straightened, Yunjin let her hand drift back and gave that firm ballerina ass a possessive squeeze, her lewd act hidden in the choreography transition.
She did that on every stop of the tour. Thirty concerts, thirty different moments of Yunjin riling up the crowd as well as Kazuha’s heart rate. Countless moments when their gazes locked on each other, on stage, back stage, in the waiting rooms. Yunjin’s eyes sparkling with mischief; Kazuha’s eyes dark and heavy with want but tempered with apprehension and guilt.
Her fingers speed up, breath hitching at the memory and mounting arousal. But it wasn’t enough. With a grunt, Yunjin tosses her phone away and flops to the bed on her side, chest heaving, head spinning.
No, no, no. She refuses to come like this.
Then a seed of a filthy thought, like a canker in the core of an apple, blossoms in her mind. The solution is so simple – get Kazuha so worked up that she breaks down and lunges at her.
The Japanese girl puts up a lot of walls to keep people away. But Yunjin wants in – and on, and under, and in front of…
So Yunjin conspires to spend a whole day with her favourite younger member and get her to want, openly and honestly.
It’s perfect, Yunjin thinks to herself, a slow smile spreading across her face as a ghost of a plan clicks into place.
***
The next day was, blessedly, a day off for Le Sserafim.
“How do I look, unnie?” Kazuha asks cheerily as she skips in front. Yunjin more than happily runs her eyes up and down the younger girl’s body, drinking in the deliciously toned body hinted at by the black crop top and grey sweatpants.
Kazuha was genuinely having fun on their little date. She’s excited for brunch – the cafe has a wide range of pastries and breads. Then some shopping for clothes. Ending off with a movie night. No doubt Kazuha was looking forward to all of that.
It almost made Yunjin feel guilty for what she had planned for the younger girl.
Almost.
***
“That slut was built for fat cock in all her holes,” Yunjin purred as she read out a particularly dirty thirst tweet at the table.
Kazuha looks to the side, blushing deeply, hands shaking as she stirs her now-empty mug of matcha.
“Ooh, how about this one: Such a hot cocksleeve I bet she’s begging for backshots all night long.”
“Unnie, what –”
“Don’t you think I can take it?” Yunjin slides her hands up Kazuha’s thigh. The raven-haired girl trembles at the touch.
***
“How’s this look on me, baby?” The older girl winks as she spins around, the short summer dress sheer enough to show a hint of the lacy lingerie underneath. Kazuha’s mouth goes dry, her hand rushing up to the nape of her neck as she tries to look anywhere but at the vision that is Huh Yunjin.
There’s no one else in the fitting room hallway, but Yunjin makes a show of looking to the left and right before yanking Kazuha into one of the tiny booths.
“You didn’t answer me, Zuha~” Yunjin whines as she drops to her knees, pulling down Kazuha’s pants with her.
“W–wait!” The younger girl yelps as she clenches both fists by her side.
Yunjin simply hums as she palms Kazuha’s thick cock over the fabric of her boxers, landing wet kisses where the tip makes an angry outline.
Then she hops back onto her feet and skips away, leaving a very frazzled Japanese girl gasping for breath.
***
“Open wide unnie~” Yunjin giggles as she plops a piece of popcorn into Sakura’s open mouth. Her fingers brush the salt-dusted lips of the older girl.
Kazuha is staring daggers at the two of them. Yunjin pulls her fingers to her own mouth and licks slowly, shooting Kazuha a wink.
The credits roll and nobody moves. Yunjin is still curled in Sakura’s lap like a cat, giggling at something whispered in her ear, rolling her hips as Sakura stares hungrily into the ginger-haired girl’s eyes.
Kazuha desperately stills her legs from shaking. She’s been slowly counting backwards from a hundred for the entire movie. She is now at the thirtieth countdown.
She stands so fast the couch bounces, snapping Yunjin and Sakura from their flirtatious reverie.
“I’m going to bed,” she announces in a thick voice. Then, before anyone can reply, her hand clamps around Yunjin’s wrist and she pulls.
Yunjin’s eyes go wide in genuine shock for once, but she lets herself be dragged away by the younger girl.
Left behind, Sakura huffs a testy goodnight to the retreating pair.
***
The door clicks shut behind them, bright hallways lights giving way to the soft amber glow from the bedside lamp.
For a second they just breathe, barely an arms length apart, staring at each other uncertainly.
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