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“So me and Yoonchae are going to go get custom lingerie,” Megan says, smiling wide into the camera, “and we’re going to put ‘lucky’ on it, so during performances, we’re going to wear our lucky pair of underwear.”
Yoonchae tries to keep a straight face, but then Megan looks at her, and they’re both giggling, cheeks flushing.
“Let’s go,” Yoonchae says quickly, because they do have to go and she also kind of wants to change the subject, because what do you say when your best friend says something like that?
“Let’s go,” Megan agrees, still laughing, and Yoonchae forgets about it.
-
“So,” Megan says after they’re done filming, “I wasn’t joking about the lingerie, you know.”
Yoonchae’s eyes go wide and she giggles nervously. It’s not like she’s opposed to the idea, but…
“Where do you even buy that kind of stuff?”
Megan grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I know a place.”
-
It’s clearly obvious that this kind of store only sells, well… underwear, and walking in, Yoonchae feels like she’s looking at something she shouldn’t. There are pictures of models, posed suggestively, the thin fabric they’re wearing leaving little to her imagination. Megan catches her looking away, and just laughs.
“Why are you blushing?” Yoonchae flushes an even deeper shade of red.
“I’ve never done this before! I have a right to be,” she searches for the right word, “...what do you call it? Embarrassed?”
Megan giggles. “It’s fine! Friends do this all the time,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “Me and Lara have gone a couple of times. It’s fun! And I can help you pick out a pair, or two, if you like.”
Yoonchae hesitates, still trying not to look at anything too hard, but she does let Megan lead her over to a section that explodes with pink. She picks up a nice, simple lace set and turns it over in her hands. Maybe this isn’t so bad.
“What’s your cup size?” Megan asks, so casually, and Yoonchae chokes on her own saliva, doubling over.
“Megan!”
“What? I need to know so that I can pick out the correct size for you.” Yoonchae looks around, face tomato red, before she leans down to whisper it in Megan’s ear.
“I thought you were a- “
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
Megan shrugs, smirking at her. “What did you think I was going to say?”
Yoonchae kicks at her ankles.
“Yah, jinjja saenggagi deoreopda!” she whines, and Megan bursts into laughter, knowing the meaning already, simply because Yoonchae says it a lot. Rightfully so, considering the fact that Megan is, well, Megan.
-
Megan ends out picking a lot of sets for her, some that make Yoonchae’s eyebrows go up, just because they’re a little... interesting, for her taste.
By the time that they’re done picking out things, each of them are holding about 6 pairs, all matching. There’s a nice black set, and a couple of pink ones, and even a white lace set that Yoonchae doesn’t think that she can pull off, but she trusts Megan’s judgement. For the most part.
“Now we have one more thing left to do,” Megan says, whirling around and holding out the sets. “Try them on!”
Yoonchae sputters. “Here? Now?” Megan nods.
“It’s the only way to see how they look on you before you buy them. You don’t want to regret buying a pair later.”
“I don’t know… the changing rooms are kind of scary.” Yoonchae replies. Besides, she doesn’t know the state of the ones at this store.
Megan thinks for a bit, brows furrowed in concentration.
“I know! We can share one. Then you wouldn’t be alone.” Her eyes light up. “Anyways, I want to see how the sets look on you! The ones I picked out.” Yoonchae sighs.
“Fine. Just don’t be weird.”
Megan gasps, holding a hand to her heart.
“Me? Weird? Never!”
Yoonchae scoffs at her as they walk towards the changing rooms together. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t think I don’t see the faces you make when people say things. Like that one interview! What even is a ‘strap?’”
“Oh my god, Yoonchae,” Megan giggles. “You have such a clean mind.”
Well. She’s mostly right, Yoonchae thinks, but it’s not like she doesn’t know about things like that. Lara’s showed her around the internet a bit, and it isn’t hard to find things yourself. But it’s better that nobody knows, because who would expect the maknae of KATSEYE to be anything but pure and innocent? It’s kind of annoying, sometimes. When will people stop underestimating her?
They make it to the changing rooms, and there aren’t any attendants, so they just head to the biggest stall, for space, Megan says.
Yoonchae’s the one who turns the lock on the door, turning it and unturning it multiple times to make sure that no one can come in. She hears Megan behind her, setting the lingerie on the hooks on the wall, the shuffling sound of fabric quieter than the harsh click of the lock.
Once she’s finally satisfied, she turns back around, and sees Megan already undressing, her jeans pooling around her ankles as she works her way out of them. She unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor, her breasts exposed, the soft curve of them making something tighten in Yoonchae’s chest. Her face flushes, and she turns back around. She makes the mistake of looking up to the dressing room mirror, where she can still see Megan changing, and she covers her eyes.
“Give me a warning next time!”
She can hear Megan sigh behind her, imagine the eye roll. The shuffling of fabric grows more insistent.
“It’s fine, ‘Chae. You can look. We’re both girls. You’ve literally showered with Lara before!” Yoonchae whirls around then.
“That was different!” All the words leave her mouth as she looks at Megan, clad in a simple black lace thong and a matching bra. God. Her mouth feels so dry, her face burning.
“What do you think?” Megan says sultrily, winking at her and posing, one arm above her head, and Yoonchae thinks she might actually die.
“Good,” she manages to croak out. “Really good.” Megan grins, bouncing.
“Okay, now you have to try it on! I picked out the same set so we can match. There are some places where you can get custom embroidery, and I was thinking one of those…”
Her voice fades into the background as Yoonchae slowly undresses, trying to sort out her thoughts. She can’t really figure out why she’s getting so flustered. You’re so weird, she thinks. Get it together.
Jeans go folded neatly, then her shirt, also folded and set neatly atop the pile. She rolls her eyes fondly at Megan’s unfolded pile of clothing sitting on the bench, resisting the urge to make it neat herself.
Yoonchae hesitates for a second, feeling Megan’s gaze rove over her. She turns, and sees something flash in the other girl’s eyes before she returns to her usual self, smiling at Yoonchae.
“Do you want me to turn around?” Megan says, her voice sending a shiver down Yoonchae’s spine and making something in her chest flutter.
“It’s f- fine,” she says, stuttering slightly. “You’re right. We’re both girls.” She reaches around, feeling for the bra clasp, but she’s fumbling with it. Every time she manages to grab hold of one of the hooks the other slips out of her fingers. The blood rushes to her face again as she tries harder.
“I can help,” she hears Megan say behind her, soft. “If you want.”
Something in Yoonchae wants to say no, just for the sake of keeping her pride, but she eventually gives in, nodding.
Megan’s fingers are soft against her skin as she unclasps the bra, Yoonchae shrugging off the straps and watching the whole thing fall to the floor. She hears a sharp intake of breath behind her, and knows that Megan is staring, can feel it.
“You’re… really pretty, Yoonchae,” Megan murmurs softly.
“Thanks,” Yoonchae whispers back, her mouth still dry. “Y- you too.”
She snaps herself out of the trance she’s gotten herself into, clearing her throat and putting on the bra, clasping it backwards and shifting it around like she’s always done. The panties come next, and she quickly slips her own down, stepping into the thong. Only then does she look up at the mirror.
Her eyes go wide.
It’s not like she hasn’t known that she can be sexy — despite how others perceive her — but looking at herself in the lingerie, she thinks she finally gets why girls wear things like this. The lace accentuates her hips perfectly, sitting just above the curve. The matching bra is nice too, with a soft floral lace pattern and cups that lift her breasts just the slightest bit.
“Wow,” she says in disbelief, turning, looking at herself in different angles. “I think I should let you pick out more of my clothes from now on.” She sees Megan grin behind her, catching her gaze in the mirror.
“Told you I would have been a fashion designer if I wasn’t in KATSEYE.”
“You would be good at that,” Yoonchae muses, and Megan laughs again, the sound spreading throughout Yoonchae’s body and making her feel warm.
“Let’s try on another set.”
-
Somewhere between them trying on the fourth and the fifth set, something shifts. Megan starts looking shamelessly, for longer periods of time, and Yoonchae thinks she can finally pinpoint the look in her eyes. Something kind of like hunger.
“You know I can feel you looking, right?” Yoonchae murmurs, looking into Megan’s eyes through the mirror. She sees Megan swallow, the gulp travelling down her throat as her eyes burn.
“Yoonchae,” she says, and her voice is so low, so heady that it makes Yoonchae’s head spin, all the blood rushing to her face. Yoonchae turns around, finally facing her. Megan’s eyes flick down to Yoonchae’s mouth, then up to her eyes, then back down again. The soft pink of her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
“Can I kiss you?” she blurts, eyes almost desperate.
Yoonchae lets out a shaky breath.
“Yes.”
She doesn’t have any time to process before Megan’s mouth is on hers, hot and wet and perfect.
Megan’s hands come up to curl in her hair, fingers tightening and pulling slightly. Yoonchae whines into her mouth, whimpering when the other girl slips her tongue past parted lips and licks along the underside of her tongue. She can taste Megan’s cherry lip gloss, the flavor mixing with her own citrus chapstick and creating something entirely new, something different and both of them.
“I’ve been waiting to do this,” Megan confesses breathlessly, pulling back for a split second, a string of saliva connecting their lips. “God, Yoonchae.” Her hands untangle themselves from Yoonchae’s hair, bringing them down to Yoonchae’s own hands and moving them to rest on her hips.
“Touch me,” she murmurs, kissing the underside of Yoonchae’s jaw. “Please.”
“I don’t really know how,” Yoonchae says, worried about messing up, doing something wrong, not making Megan feel good.
“I know, baby,” Megan whispers, right in her ear, nipping gently at her earlobe. “That’s why I’m going to teach you.”
Yoonchae whines at that, pressing Megan into the mirror, fingers digging deeper into her hips.
“S- show me how,” she says. “Wanna make you feel good.” Megan pulls her into another kiss, taking one of her hands and guiding it to the waistband of the lace, one of the pink sets that she had picked out.
“Here,” she breathes against Yoonchae’s lips. “But we have to be quiet.”
Yoonchae slowly slips her hand in, groaning at the feel of Megan’s wetness, how much she’s dripping. It’s probably soaking through the lace, and Yoonchae thinks, deliriously, that they’ll have to purchase this set.
“You’ve touched yourself before, haven’t you?” Megan gasps, bucking into Yoonchae’s palm. “Touch me like how you touch yourself.” Yoonchae nods, almost embarrassed, grinding her palm against Megan’s clit.
“Shit,” whimpers Megan, softly, the curse leaving her lips almost on instinct. “You’re doing so well, baby… keep going…”
Yoonchae grinds her palm down harder, her own thighs pressing together to try and soothe the ache in her core. She can feel herself getting shamefully wet at the sound of the slick noises, and Megan’s little gasps and whimpers that manage to slip out even though she’s biting down hard on her lip.
“Megan,” Yoonchae whimpers as Megan claims her mouth in another searing kiss, panting into her mouth as her hips buck faster, more wild. Slick begins to drip down Yoonchae’s wrist, onto the floor.
“S- so good,” Megan moans into Yoonchae’s mouth. “Doing so well for me, such a good boy…” Yoonchae flushes even deeper at the term, licking along Megan’s bottom lip desperately and moving her hand faster, the slide becoming easier.
She can feel Megan throbbing against her palm, and sees the telltale signs that she’s close, her sounds getting more and more high pitched, hips losing all rhythm as she moves against Yoonchae’s hand.
“Ah,” Megan sobs, rocking harder. “God, just like that, k- keep going, I’m so close…” her hands come up to the back of Yoonchae’s neck, holding steady as she chases her own pleasure. Yoonchae kisses up Megan’s neck, licking, leaving little marks, biting down on her shoulder as she fights to keep her own arousal under control.
“Please,” Yoonchae begs. “Megan- come for me, need you- ”
“Fuck- I’m coming- ”
Megan whimpers, one hand coming up to her mouth, teeth sinking into her palm to muffle her scream. Her thighs clamp around Yoonchae’s wrist as the orgasm washes over her, hot and pulsing, slick dripping down Yoonchae’s hand as she lessens the pressure on her clit, riding her through the aftershocks. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes as she slowly makes her way down. Yoonchae moves to pull her hand out, but Megan grips her wrist, holding her steady.
“Fingers,” Megan gasps. “Two. Inside, now.”
“Are you sure?” Yoonchae asks. “You just- “
Megan tightens her grip around Yoonchae’s wrist, leaning forward to bite gently at the underside of her jaw. Yoonchae lets out an embarrassing sound, leaning into Megan’s touch.
“You want to be good for me, right?” Megan pants, eyes still hazy from her earlier release. “Show me.”
This time, Yoonchae doesn’t hesitate, slowly working two fingers into Megan. Both of them groan quietly at the feel, tight walls already clenching around Yoonchae’s fingers, so hot and wet. She curls them, setting a slower pace.
“Faster,” moans Megan as Yoonchae continues to curl her fingers slowly. “You can do better than that.” Yoonchae shivers at the reprimand, moving her fingers deeper, harder, faster. The mirror rattles with every thrust, and-
A voice sounds throughout the dressing room, the sound of another stall opening and closing sounding like a gunshot echoing throughout the room. Yoonchae freezes, her fingers stilling. Megan continues to grind down against them, taking them deeper as she rolls her hips.
“They’re going to catch us,” Yoonchae whispers, desperately trying to keep herself under control.
“Keep moving,” Megan whispers back, her voice dark. “I didn’t say you could stop, did I?” Fuck. Yoonchae starts moving her fingers again, setting the same rough pace.
“‘M sorry,” she mumbles. “I’ll be good.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” gasps Megan, her hips bucking faster. “Come on. Harder.”
Yoonchae curls her fingers, hooking her wrist up to hit a deeper angle. Her thumb circles Megan’s swollen clit, sensitive from earlier. Megan’s breaths get more erratic, and Yoonchae can tell that she’s getting close again. Her wrist is starting to cramp, but all she’s focused on is Megan, and getting her off good, trying to bring her to that peak again.
She kisses Megan sloppily, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth as they make out. Megan’s cunt flutters, pulsing around her fingers, so close, almost there. It gets harder to move her fingers, tight, hot walls sucking her in and holding her there.
“There,” Megan whimpers when Yoonchae hits that one spot inside her that makes her clench even harder. “Right t- there.”
Yoonchae takes note, driving her fingers against that spongy spot over and over again, feeling Megan’s breath hitch, her teeth sinking into Yoonchae’s shoulder. Yoonchae almost yelps, the feeling going straight to the ache between her legs.
“‘Chae- Oh my God- ”
And then Megan’s coming again, cunt clenching around her fingers and holding them in place as she bites down hard onto Yoonchae’s shoulder, making her see stars. Yoonchae continues moving her fingers until she feels the last of the aftershocks fade out, thumb still gently pressing down on Megan’s clit. She can feel saliva trickling down her shoulder as Megan finally removes her teeth.
Megan drops her head to Yoonchae’s shoulder, panting.
“You did so good, baby. So good for me.” A flush spreads throughout Yoonchae’s body, creeping up her neck and all the way to the tips of her ears. Her thighs press together imperceptibly, or so she thinks. Megan looks down, and smirks.
“Oh?”
“Shut up,” whines Yoonchae, embarrassed. “Ugh, you’re just so…”
“I know I am,” says Megan, sultrily, eyes half lidded. “You want some help with your little… problem?” She drags a finger down Yoonchae’s body, hooking in the bra and trailing all the way down to the matching pink lace.
“You deserve a reward, after getting me off so good,” she whispers in Yoonchae’s ear. Yoonchae shivers, her body tightening up.
“Please,” she whimpers.
“Please, what?” Megan clicks her tongue. “Use your words, baby.”
It’s so unfair, Yoonchae thinks. Having to speak when she’s this worked up, and all she can think about is Megan.
“P- please touch me,” she begs. “I need you.”
“Good boy.”
Megan’s hands slip under the lace of her bra, unhooking the clasp deftly and moving to cup Yoonchae’s breasts. She squeezes, and Yoonchae lets out a high, whiny moan.
“Quiet,” hisses Megan. “What did I tell you?” Yoonchae nods frantically.
“Sorry, I’m sorry- ”
Her words are cut off as Megan leans forward off the mirror, one hand cupping her breast, her mouth swirling around her nipple. Yoonchae almost screams at the sensation, her hips bucking, core pressing against Megan’s thigh. She fights to stay quiet, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes as the pleasure grows, so many things being stimulated at the same time.
The feeling of Megan’s other hand coming up to pinch and twist roughly at her other peak makes Yoonchae sob, the sound being swallowed up by Megan as she pulls off her nipple with a pop and drags her mouth up to Yoonchae’s, pushing her tongue past cracked lips.
Megan’s thigh spikes up higher, pressing more firmly against her core, and Yoonchae rolls her hips down, desperate for the friction. She’s done this before, at night with her pillow, but the sensation of muscle pressing against her is so much better, so much more full.
She can feel her clit scraping against the fabric of the lace as she grinds harder, pitching her hips desperately. Her movements grow erratic, the feel of Megan’s fingers still twisting her nipple making her move faster. Heat pools in her belly, and she can feel herself getting closer, the warmth almost becoming unbearable. Slick drips down Megan’s thigh, hot and wet, and Megan hisses into her mouth at the feeling.
“So wet,” she pants, pulling off of Yoonchae’s mouth with a slick sound. “All this just from getting me off.” Yoonchae sobs, tears finally spilling over as the words send a jolt of lightning straight through to her core.
“Please,” she whimpers, so desperate, so needy. “Need to come- ”
“Then come,” Megan whispers with a sharp twist of her fingers, spiking her thigh up hard and fast.
Yoonchae screams into Megan’s shoulder, mouth closing around a patch of skin, not quite biting. Her thighs clamp around Megan’s, core pressing hard against muscle. Hips keep moving even through the aftershocks, trying to draw out the last bits of pleasure. Megan’s fingers become softer, slowly circling over her nipple as Yoonchae comes back down, sobbing with pleasure.
She takes a few seconds before finally pulling off of Megan’s thigh, panting. Fingers come up to card through her hair, Megan’s mouth soft on her neck. Yoonchae leans into the touch.
“You did so well for me,” Megan says. “So good.” Yoonchae flushes again at the praise. Megan kisses her softly, and they begin the work of cleaning up.
-
Thankfully, Yoonchae always has a tissue packet on her for whatever reason, and she uses that to clean up the mess of slick, between both her thighs and Megan’s. The pink sets are completely soaked through, and Yoonchae dries them as best she can. She blushes when Megan laughs and tells her that they’re definitely purchasing those ones, and getting them embroidered after they’ve had a wash.
The cashier doesn’t say anything, and none of the employees look at them weird after they’ve walked out, but Yoonchae still makes Megan pay, looking down at the floor while Megan does everything.
-
Later, back at Yoonchae’s new apartment, they sit, watching the sets tumble in the washer. Megan pulls her into a hug, soft and sweet. But she’s Megan, and so of course she has to ruin the moment. She pulls back, smirking.
“That was something.”
Yoonchae groans, hiding her face in her hands.
“I can’t believe my first time was in a dressing room.” Megan laughs at that, hard, and Yoonchae has to smack her shoulder.
“Stop laughing! It’s not funny. I’m never telling anyone ever. I will… what does Lara say? Take it to my grave.”
“Babe. It’s fine."
"How many feet do you have to be under the ground to be dead?"
"Oh my god."