pokerface || j.jk x reader

Chapter 1: Table 11

☼

You furrow your eyebrows intensely, ignoring the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of your face as you stare at the hand of cards you have just been dealt. A pretty good hand at that, but you shouldn't get ahead of yourself just yet. 

Keeping your best pokerface on, you glance around slowly at the people sitting at the green felt table, taking in each player's individual facial expressions as you go. That will give you information on what the other players might have been dealt. 

Judging by the worried look on the player opposite you's face, you can tell they will fold. The player to the left of you looks even more worried... these people really don't know how to hide their emotions huh? The man on the right keeps a straight face, however isn't too good at angling his cards so that you can't see the hand he has been dealt. Amateurs.

You watch as each member throws a couple of chips into the centre of the table, the man on the right pushing forward a larger sum of money than the man on the left and opposite you. You assume they already know they are going to lose this round. 

"Raise" you smile smugly as you push your entire collection of poker chips into the centre.

All or nothing baby. If you can manage to win this round, you'll be set with money for the next week and a half.

The dealer simply nods before laying out the cards before him. You watch with anticipation as he pulls card after card out of the deck in your favour. You can barely even breath as he reaches for the final card of the game when - 

"Y/N!" a loud yell snaps you from your focus, causing you to jump off of your chair and to your feet, your head whipping round in search for the voice that called you. 

"What the hell did I say about playing poker in here?" you sigh as you watch your boss round the corner, a phone in hand displaying the security footage of you sitting at the table. 

"I-I was just-" you stammer. There is nothing you can say, he caught you red handed. 

"Save it. How many times do I have to tell you that you aren't allowed to play when it is still work hours?" he looks down at me disappointingly. You shift your eyes to the ground, fumbling with your fingers as you rack your brain for any excuse you can. 

"I'm sorry Jin" you mumble under your breath. You hate to see him angry at you. Especially when he practically took you in and made you a part of his family since you moved to Seoul by yourself, giving you a job and a shoulder to cry on. If you weren't like family, you are sure he would have fired you months ago. 

Seeing your obvious remorse, he softens his gaze, taking your arm and pulling you away from the clueless players sitting at the table. "It's okay Y/N-ah, I know you want to play in the big leagues and all, but can't that wait until later on?" he sighs, pulling you in for a lazy hug, "You know I hate it when you gamble right?" 

You chuckle quietly into his chest, slowly reciprocating the hug as you begin to feel better, "A little ironic don't you think?" you continue to laugh at him, "A big hot shot owner of one of the most famous casinos in Seoul doesn't like gambling?"

"Yah!" he steps back from the hug, his eyes playfully wide, "It's a stupid game" he wipes down the crinkles that were formed in his priceless navy-black business suit. 

"Besides" he smirks as he adjusts his salmon-pink tie, "the house always wins." You scoff at his arrogance as he winks at you. "Get back to work Y/N" he says as he twirls on his heels and begins to walk away from you. 

You smile to yourself from the interaction as you too begin to walk away. 
"Oh and one more thing Y/N. Table 11 is waiting to be served, if you wouldn't mind" you hear Jin yell at you from behind, instantly bringing your rising spirits crashing down again. 

You mumble curses under your breath as you make your way across the casino to table number 11. Of course it has to be the table on the complete opposite side of the room that needs your attention. You play with the hem of your skirt, pulling it down slightly. Was it just you or did the female work attire for this place seem questionably revealing? Who ever designed these skirts was definitely a pervert. 

As you round the corner, you lay your eyes on a table consisting of 5 rowdy men, yelling and cheering as they clink glasses of beer together in what seemed like celebration. You mentally roll your eyes at how loud and obnoxious they are being. You almost walk past them before talking a quick glance at their table number and you practically feel the colour drain from your face when you see two straight lines.

"11" you curse to yourself. This is the last table you want to serve at the end of a 10 hour shift, a table of drunk, loud men. 

Composing yourself as best you can, putting on the biggest smile and lifting your posture, you walk up to the table, drawing all the men's attention as they hear the sound of clinking high-heels approaching. 

"Hi there, I believe service for this table was requested?" you put on your most sincere and charming voice. You glance around expectantly at the boys seated before you. Despite how obviously drunk they are, you cant deny that they are pretty damn hot. 

"What kind of service?" a blonde-haired boy winks at you whilst looking your small figure up and down seductively, earning a visibly disgusted look from you. The other men seem to notice your reaction, one of them kicking the blonde-haired man from under the table, causing his eyes to crinkle into a crescent moon shape as he cries out in pain. 

"Sorry about him" a black-haired man now speaks in his place, his dimples catching your attention as he smiles, "Hes just a little drunk..."

"You don't say" you chuckle a little, you had gotten used to a lot of men's comments towards you since you had started working here, you had learned to take it with a pinch of salt. "So what can I do for you boys tonight?" 

"We'd like to get another round if you don't mind?" a red-haired boy now speaks up from across the table, a beaming wide grin plastered on his slightly-reddened face. 

"Of course" you reply habitually, whipping out a pen and paper from your back pocket, "What will it be?" 

"We'll take 5 beers, 5 shots of soju, oh and your number whilst your at it" you lift your head as you hear a younger voice sound out from amongst the table, his rude tone causing you to appear shocked. 

"What's wrong sweetheart?" he mocks lightly, "Like what you see?" 

You are too busy analysing the boy to realise you are staring, but you cant help it. The boy is muscular and tall, his entire body built like a machine, every part of his body seems jacked. However, his face is the complete opposite. His hair is a light, fawn brown, his skin soft and glowing. You mentally scoff at the smug smirk he wears on his face, complimented by his dark eyes. His ego must be bigger than the this entire casino.

You ignore his comment, not paying unnecessary attention to the obviously drunk boy. You read the order back to the 5 men sitting at the table before walking away as fast as you can to the bar.

"Yoongi!" you yell impatiently, ringing the bell at the drinks bar as many times as you can to get his attention. 

"Yah! What do you want?" the silver-haired man finally pops his head out from under the bar, bringing along with him a bottle of vodka and a bottle of Irish bomb whiskey. 

You place the order on the bar table, tapping on the polished wood impatiently. "Please hurry, its my last table for the night and I just want to leave okay?" You watch as Yoongi nods lazily and begins to pour the drinks. You and Yoongi just happen to be roommates, both being given a job at the large casino and somewhat taken in by Jin, so naturally you were good friends. 

Yoongi pulls the drinks from behind the bar on a platter, giving you the thumbs up before walking away to serve more customers. 

As you make your way back to the table of boys, you cant help but think they are to blame for you having to quit you make-shift poker game, the reason you missed out on an easy score of money. You channel that same frustration as you place the drinks down on their table with a clatter, bringing their attention to you once again. 

"Your drinks are served" you say sassily, "Have a good night" you bow out of forced respect then turn around and begin to walk off, not before you feel a tight grip around your wrist, pulling you back. 

"Excuse me miss, but I think you forgot something?"