Having known Joy for five years, Wendy should have been prepared for the bet proposed to her at the office. She should have known the lengths Joy would have undergone (and did undergo) to land on top and lord the win over her head for hours after the bet ended. Joy is a great friend, but also a snake when she wants something from you. And Wendy, poor, innocent as a newborn lamb Wendy, should have expected her dirty tricks. And she did, mostly, foresee Joy’s near deplorable actions before the tall brunette had the chance to enact them.

But how was she supposed to know that their boss, the indominable and fearsome accounting manager, Irene, would allow herself to be bribed by Joy with laundry detergent?

Freaking laundry detergent! Who in the world would drop their ironclad business practices for some seasonal soap that smelled of peaches? Irene, slayer of the glass ceiling, apparently would!

On top of getting their boss on her side, Joy has been, of course, collecting data on their colleagues in order to blackmail them for this very purpose. (Wendy doesn’t think Yuri selling Animal Crossing villagers to hardcore online fans is necessarily blackmail worthy, but it certainly got the older woman shaking and near to tears).

With everyone against her, Wendy lost, and now must to do whatever her (now ex) best friend commands.

So here she is, standing across the street from a tattoo shop with Joy panting behind her like a starved animal placed in front of a five course meal. To get a tattoo. Which is something Joy has wanted to do with her since their meeting for some absurd reason.

“I hate you,” Wendy mumbles, crossing her arms as she glares at the shop’s bright sign. It reads Red Flavor in a pale crimson color, painting the sidewalk with a soft glow as the night slowly bleeds into the sky. The building looks brand new, fresh paint slapped on the walls that have yet to be touched by the passing years the buildings around it have weathered through. She’s only walked around this area of the city to pick up celebratory scones from the pricey bakery down the street at the end of tax season, so she’s barely noticed the construction of this establishment. Needless to say, it’s out of the way, so she wonders why Joy has brought her to this specific spot when there are tattoo places closer to their apartments.

Joy swings an arm around Wendy’s shoulders and casually drags her across the street to the front of the shop, somehow avoiding all traffic. “Oh Wendy, Wendy, Wendy. You know you love me with all of your heart, sweetheart. You’re also incapable of feeling hate,” the taller woman sing songs, nudging Wendy forward.

The shorthaired blonde scoffs, shrugging her friend off. “I’m not sure what parallel universe you reside in, but I tolerate you at the best of times, Park.”

“Eh, close enough,” the brunette says casually, pulling the tattoo parlor’s door open with one hand and shoving Wendy through the entryway with the other. “Now onwards to needles and y body art!”

The inside of the building is washed in a warm light; the walls covered in photographs of individuals’ tattoos and framed concept art. There are tattoo chairs next to complicated looking machines behind the welcome desk where a petite girl sits and flips through papers. She’s cute, Wendy thinks, with light brown hair pulled into a bun that sits off center atop her head and a prominent mole on the bridge of her nose. The blonde’s eyes stray from the stranger’s face and drop to stare at the intricate floral patterns running up her forearms, silently amazed with the array of colors blending into each flower petal. Wendy hears Joy whisper a quiet ‘sweet!’ beside her before sauntering over, swaying her hips for an invisible audience and a disinterested Wendy.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” the brunette leans down, splaying her hand against the desk’s surface. “…Yeri.” She finishes, bending forward even more to no doubt appear seductive and show off some cleavage.

“Joy,” the girl replies, flipping through the papers with more force than before, refusing to look up. “Didn’t I file a restraining order against you last week?”

Joy straightens, throwing her head back with a loud laugh. “The law could never keep me from you, love.”

“Gross,” Yeri snorts, hands fumbling with the papers when she finally makes eye contact with the two before her.

“You love it.” Wendy can hear the waggle of Joy’s eyebrows, and notes that the tattooed girl is now reaching for the phone stationed next to her.

The blonde sighs, stepping forward to grab her friend’s arm. “If you don’t call the cops on us, I’ll have her out of your hair in two minutes.”

“She can’t actually call the cops on us! This time I’m here for a tattoo!” Joy shouts, pulling her arm from Wendy’s hold and bracing her hands against Yeri’s desk. Wendy groans, rubbing a hand down her face and moves to pull her tall friend away from this place once and for all. Yeri standing up, lips pursed in disbelief and one dark brow quirked, interrupts her manhandling her tall friend out of the place.

“You’re really here to get a tattoo?” Yeri tilts her head to the side, her bun following the movement and plopping even more off center than before. Wendy can’t place why, but her chest fills with overwhelming maternal instinct and she fights the urge to pull the bun out and carefully brush the girl’s hair while they talk about life.

“I know, finally, right? I just needed to trick someone into getting one with me so I wouldn’t be by myself.”

“Are you serious? You bribed our boss and blackmailed our coworkers because you didn’t want to be alone when someone stuck a needle into your skin?!” Wendy wants to scream at the top of her lungs, but she reigns it in with deep breaths and counts to ten under her breath to calm down. She shouldn’t escalate the situation, that’s always been Joy’s job. She’s the opposite of her friend, the cool head that soothes Joy’s impulsive sparks; she needs to maintain that balance to keep society safe from Joy. “You know, you could have just asked me to come in with you instead of masquerading everything behind a silly bet, you weirdo.”

A nice, levelheaded response. Point one to Wendy.

Joy turns around, red lips stretching into her trademarked gummy smile, her dark eyes sparkling with their usual mischief. “I know. But where’s the fun in that, Son?”

Before Wendy can respond with something snarky, a voice calls out from the back room she had noticed earlier but deemed unimportant to learn more about. “Yeri? Are you harassing customers again?” The voice is light and giggly, gently teasing at the blonde’s ears and Wendy finds herself ducking around her tall friend to catch a peek at who was talking.

“It’s just Joy, Seulgi! She says she’s ready for that tat!” Yeri calls back, gathering every sheet of paper she was shuffling through and walking towards a tattoo station. She motions for Joy and Wendy to follow her with a crook of her fingers, then spins on her heel to shout at the back room again. “You better come out, she brought a friend who wants one too!”

“Be out in a sec, get them settled and start the consultation with Joy’s friend for me!” The mysterious ‘Seulgi’ replies, music soon filling the quiet interior with a catchy beat after the voice disappears deeper into the back room.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Joy starts, patting Wendy’s shoulder with a bright smile, “She just wants a quickie, nothing big or complicated. No need for hours of shop talk, okay?”

Yeri frowns as she stares Wendy down. “What is this She Demon forcing you to do?”

Wendy laughs at the nickname, passing by Joy to speak face to face with Yeri. “From what she tells me, I get to choose a small tattoo and suffer through about thirty minutes of pain.” She shrugs, fingers running over the leather of the nearest chair. “It could be worse, I guess.”

“See? I’m not a complete monster.” The tallest occupant in the room announces proudly, winking at Yeri.

The tattoo artist, at least Wendy assumes Yeri is one with how confident she is fiddling with the tattoo machines, rolls her eyes. “I have yet to make a final decision on that. Now sit down here and you,” she points at Wendy, “take a seat over there and Seulgi will be with you soon.”

Wendy nods, taking her place at the station a few feet away. The chair is tall enough to keep her feet from touching the ground, so she begins swinging them back and forth absently to pass the time. She tunes out Joy and Yeri’s flirtatious bickering, tapping her fingertips against her knees to a tune in her head. Minutes tick by and she’s about to throw her phone at Joy after hearing a particularly cringey line from the brunette, when the leather of her chair crinkles.

The blonde jerks her head towards the sound in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted in a silent squeak. What greets her is the beaming face of the most gorgeous woman she’s ever seen; whose chubby cheeks push the lines of her eyes into adorable crescent shapes as she smiles down at Wendy. The stranger’s dark hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, loose strands hanging around the round, tanned face.

“Hey there! I’m Seulgi, owner of the one and only Red Flavor. I overheard that you want something small? Are you sure about that?” The now identified gorgeous face introduces herself, moving to stand in front of Wendy. She’s wearing a white tank top, the straps stretched over broad shoulders and showing off muscled arms.

Wendy’s parted lips drop open as her jaw unhinges itself in awe, eyes glued to Seulgi’s flexing biceps. She vaguely takes note of the spotless expanse of golden skin, not a tattoo in sight, before staring back up into Seulgi’s face. The owner’s face is relaxed, but a twinge of concern dots her face in the upturn of her eyebrows, and Wendy realizes she hasn’t responded.

“O-Oh! I’m—uhm—W-Wendy!” She gets out shakily, cursing the heat rushing to her face. “Pleased t-to meet you!” She waves her hand, nearly smacking herself in the cheek, and Seulgi waves back with a soft laugh.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wendy. Have you ever gotten a tattoo before? Is that why you want to skip the consultation?” Seulgi pulls up a stool to sit down next to her, plopping down and pulling a sketchpad seemingly out of thin air. (In reality, Wendy was too distracted by Seulgi’s arms and collarbones that her mind refused to comprehend the supplies the tattoo artist brought in from the back room).

“N-No, I lost a bet.” Wendy mumbles, feeling her face grow warmer under Seulgi’s gentle gaze.

The other woman hums, looking over her shoulder. “Joy, did Yeri dare you to trick someone into getting a tat?” Wendy swoons watching the muscles in Seulgi’s neck tense, and she restrains herself from tipping forward to catch a whiff of whatever perfume the owner is wearing.

“Hey! I may be head over heels in love with Yeri, but I do have an identity outside of her!” Joy puffs her cheeks out, slapping Yeri’s arm when the small girl snorts. “I tricked Wendy because I’m a baby and didn’t want to be alone.” She finishes her sentence with one of her famous pouts, crossing her arms childishly.

“Uncross those arms so I can put this template on, you overgrown child,” Yeri deadpans, flicking Joy in the middle of the forehead.

“Ow! Is this any way to treat the one courting you?”

“Ugh, please stop talking…”

“Well,” Seulgi turns around and ignores the commotion behind her, making Wendy jolt to attention in her seat. “Since this was a bet, I don’t think we have to subject you to any needles tonight.” The tattoo artist scratches at her cheek, top teeth biting into her bottom lip in thought. “I guess you can head out if you don’t want to be here…?”

“Uh,” the blonde smartly responds with, heart slowing down its rapid pace when the realization of leaving Seulgi settles in. “A-Actually! I want one!” Her voice cracks in her exclamation, and she shyly looks away to cough into her fist. Great, now she sounds like a desperate teen trying to stick around her crush as long as possible. Which isn’t actually too far off since Wendy started to salivate when Seulgi’s top tightened around her midsection and showed off the muscles of her abs.

She’s only been around this woman for ten minutes but she’s ready to propose marriage and have Seulgi’s babies.

Seulgi chuckles, flipping through her sketchpad. “If it’s something small, would you like something like these?” She turns the sketchpad around, showing off a page of clean looking thumbnails. The pictures are of animals in different styles—breathtakingly realistic and whimsically cartoonish—doing random things. There’s one with a bear wearing glasses and reading a book, and another with three fluffy chicks stacked on top of each other with musical notes suspended around them to signify the young birds are singing. In the corner of the page, a lone rabbit stands on its hind legs at a small stove, its tiny paws handling a pot and spoon.

Seulgi turns the page and more animal pictures cover the surface of the paper, each one delicately detailed to flesh out the character of the creature. Wendy’s eyes soften, her finger carefully tracing each of the animals as she imagined each of them moving around and living in their own world.

“They’re all so cute,” she whispers, stilling her finger over a realistic drawing of a hamster. The little rodent is curled around a mini microphone, eyes shining brightly and mouth open in a joyous song with some action lines around it. She taps against the drawing twice, lips twitching into a smile. “I like this one…”

“I should have asked, but are you okay with an animal tat? I have other things in here that are on the small side…” Seulgi trails off, turning through several pages and showing Wendy more of her work. “I…get caught up in drawing animals because I love them so much, sorry.” The artist laughs nervously, setting the sketchpad down and rubbing the back of her neck.

Wendy bites the inside of her cheek, fingers back to tapping the tops of her knees. “I like animals too, and, uh, that hamster was super cute. I think,” she stills her hands and takes a deep breath through her nose. “I think I want it on my arm.”

Seulgi perks up, flipping back to the hamster singing with a microphone. “This one, right?” After Wendy nods, the artist grins. “Wonderful, I’ll get the stuff to clean your arm and make an outline. Once I place that on your arm, we can play with the placement of the tattoo before I begin inking. Sound good?”

For the second time tonight, Wendy swoons over Seulgi doing something mundane. This time it’s when Seulgi stands up and the small blonde sees the veins of her hands pop up against her skin. “Y-Yeah. Sounds g-good.”

Off to the side, Joy cheers, “Whew! Seulgi is popping Wendy’s cherry tonight!”

“Joy!”

Slap!

“Ow! Fine. Seulgi is popping Wendy’s tattoo cherry tonight. Is that better?”

If Wendy doesn’t die from embarrassment tonight, she’s going to kill Joy with her bare hands.

______

so heres part 1! this series of stories is a way for me to get things written and not pressure myself to make overly long narratives :>> part 2 will come once im done writing chap 1 of the wenjoygi/jowenseul (idk which one is used im sorry) fic!

let me know what u all think, i truly do appreciate readers and their thoughts on what i write. im open to suggestions so pls leave those ideas down in the comments section~

thanks for reading :)