The Manager Says The Only Reason The Restaurant Where We Work At Is Popular Is Because People Enjoy Eating

“The manager says the only reason the restaurant where we work at is popular is because people enjoy eating while watching our relentless flirting with each other but I swear to God we’re not flirting???” AU with jk plss

🍝 pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

🍝 genre: diner!au, waiter!jungkook x waitress!y/n, very vERY soft hours aka the fluffiest fluff, lady and the traMP MOMENt 

🍝 wordcount: 2.7k

🍝 notes: this isn’t really christmas-y but the request was too cute to pass up so hERE we go i almost expoded from how ooey this shit is,,, also tag urself i’m yoongi

(gif isn’t mine!)

“order up!”

jin taps the top of the bell with his spatula before sliding four plates of pasta onto the countertop

“i got it!” you call out and hurry over to the counter

“beat you to it” you grin when jungkook appears behind you not a second later “another point for me!! yoongi!!”

yoongi looks up from his magazine and a smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth  

“ooh, kook. pick up the pace, buddy!” yoongi tsks as he adds another stroke to your side of the board

he sighs and kicks his legs up onto the counter before grabbing his magazine

yoongi’s on his lunch break

…his lunch break ended half an hour ago

Continuar lendo

noya why ur like this bro? sbwjnwoam

no atmospheric sexy time with Nishinoya

for the pairing ask meme...yoongi x y/n, #25 💚

25 -  things you said in front of other people

I wrote this with the oc and yoongi from strike a chord in mind but it can be read as a standalone! I know some people were wanting a follow up or something similar from that verse so here’s a small one before I make the time to write that bartender!jin story I played a bit loosey-goosey with the interpretation of the prompt but OH WELL. and here’s my forever shout out to @hobi-gif 

pairing: yoongi x reader / word count: 1.1k / genre: fluff, with hinted nsfw elements (but this is sfw) / warnings: none!

It’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” you say, and Yoongi lets out a quiet hum of agreement.

To people who don’t know him, Min Yoongi seems elusive and reclusive, cold and distant, unwilling to let people in. You’d thought the same, before, thought he was so far out of reach, too beautiful and talented for you to ever touch. But now you know better. You know of the endless warmth he keeps hidden, the depths of affection he holds for the people close to him, the people he cares about and loves. You feel it every time he looks at you or touches you, hear it every time he lays his fingers to those piano keys, each time he plays his music for you, songs he’s written for you.

“I want to buy it,” you continue, and he squeezes your hand with those lovely, talented fingers, the ones you’d fallen for so many months ago.

“You don’t need it,” he says, and you pout.

“But I want it,” you say, and before Yoongi can reply, your eyes widen. “Oh! I know! I’ll buy it for Holly!”

“You haven’t even met him,” Yoongi points out, though his words are edged with amusement, lips a tender curve as he watches you turn your attention back to the hand-crocheted dinosaur, already reaching for it.

“Listen, I don’t need to have met your dog to know that I love him and want to shower him with gifts.” You clutch the dinosaur toy tight with your free hand, unwilling to let go now that you’ve set your heart on it. “You can mail it back to Daegu for your parents to give to him. He’ll feel my love.”

Yoongi takes a moment to stare at you with his sharp, pretty eyes, and then just smiles. He’s already relented and he knows that you know that, as wrapped around your little finger as he is. “Okay,” he says. “Sure.”

He keeps hold of your hand as you walk to the till, gently but firmly tugging you back each time he sees you waver and long to reach for something else as well. You could fight against that tugging hand, and you know Yoongi would let you win, but you just settle down. You always do, easing back in the face of his judgement, letting him call the shots. (When you want to, anyway.)

At least, you do until you spot another dinosaur on a promotional display, the twin of the one in hands, bright red to its deep blue.

“Oh, oh, Yoongi, look!” You squeeze his hand to draw his attention to it. “Come on, we have to get that one too. Please?”

“Holly doesn’t need both, baby.”

“I’m starting to think I love him more than you do, Yoongi,” you say, a little petulant—even if you know Yoongi is right. “It’s like he’s my son and not yours.”

Before Yoongi can reply, respond to your admittedly playful ribbing, an older woman nearby smiles at you both, having overheard your conversation. “I think your son would appreciate both,” she says.

You latch onto this, even if the woman clearly thinks you’re talking about an actual child and not a dog. “See? Holly deserves both. He’s a good boy and a great son.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you care about him so much, even if he’s not yours,” the woman continues, looking at you, smile spread across her face. “How old is he?”

There’s a brief beat of silence as Yoongi stares at the two of you, and you worry that he’s about to correct this woman’s misunderstanding—that he’s going to tell her that Holly is, in fact, a dog—before he replies. “He’s four.”

The woman coos. “Oh, he’s still so young! Are dinosaurs his favourite?”

“His favourite toy is a ball, actually,” Yoongi replies, completely straight faced. “He loves it when we go to the park and play catch together.”

You swallow down your disbelieving laughter as the woman sighs with delight.

And so the conversation unfolds, and you watch as Yoongi wards off every question without letting onto the fact that Holly walks around on four legs and not two, slowly migrating across the store towards the till. He’s just telling the woman that Holly’s favourite food is peanut butter when you reach the front of the queue, and you tug at Yoongi’s hand to get his attention.

“We have to pay, baby,” you say gently.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you,” the woman apologises. “I just wanted to say that you’re very lucky to have someone who loves your son as much as you do.”

“I know,” Yoongi murmurs, surprisingly soft and sincere, and you have to tamp down the blush that threatens to spill onto your cheeks. “I’m very lucky.”

And when you leave the store, it’s with two dinosaurs secured in your bag; both are gift wrapped, of course (only the best for Min Holly). You can’t help but giggle as you recall the delivery of Yoongi’s words, how he’d been completely inscrutable, speaking about Holly like an actual son—but then Yoongi gives you a look, a touch of his dark eyes, and the laughter dies in your throat. You recognise that look. Anticipation trickles down your spine, liquid quicksilver that rolls under your skin, hot and cold all at once.

So when you step into Yoongi’s apartment, shedding your jacket and shoes, you’re expecting the hands that cup your face. You go still all at once, eyes fluttering shut at the cool touch of Yoongi’s fingers.

“Babygirl.”

You shiver despite yourself, shuddering at the pet name, the deep note in his voice. “Yes, Yoongi?”

“You lied to that poor ajumeoni,” he says, a quiet note of reproach in his voice. “That wasn’t very nice.”

You don’t point out that he was the one that carried the brunt of it, the one that let the lie ride, let her continue to live in her misconception. “I was just joking,” you say—and your voice is already weak, breathless, as you melt under Yoongi’s hands.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he continues, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. It’s a physical effort to swallow down the noise that bubbles in your throat, threatening to slip past your lips. “But I guess I was wrong.”

“I am,” you insist. “I am, I am a good girl.” Your heart rate is already picking up, pulse rising each second you stare back at him, return the gaze that’s laying you bare already, that knows how weak you are for him, always.

And Yoongi’s responding smile is edged with heat as his eyes gleam. “Why don’t you show me what a good girl you are then, hm?”

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"I love you, Kei. I love you so so much, my heart might explode," you'd said. "You're childish," he'd replied. Yet his actions said different, drawing you closer and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.