Fall out boy imagines and preferences- round three

Patrick- Waitress

No, not the musical

You smiled at the customer as you took away there empty plates, balancing them on your arm. You forced it to stay there as you sped to the kitchen to clear it, even though your arm felt like it would snap any minute.
You weren't a big fan of this job but you needed the money and some of the staff were nice.
Your legs were sore from the endless hours of walking round in circles, and your stomach rumbled from the lack of a break that you were legally meant to have. But no one cared about your welfare here.
As you pushed through the door, you noticed some more plates that needed clearing and went straight to the table.
Your eyes met those of a man with frizzy hair and you asked if everyone had finished. As you began to pile their plates on your arm, one slipped and smashed next to the leg of the man next to you, the loud crash disturbing him from his conversation.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Are you okay?" You asked as you started to pick up the broken pieces. Soon, another hand touched yours by accident and you looked up to see a pair of gold-blue eyes looking in to yours.
It had been a few minutes before your boss came out and started down talking you, making you tear your eyes away from the mans before you. You're boss didn't care if others heard. He wanted them to know how useless you were. "And if you think I'm not taking that out of your cheque-"
"Why are you shouting?" He interrupted your boss. Your boss stopped and stared in disbelief. "It was an accident. No one got hurt and she said sorry. There's no need to be rude to her." He stood up as he calmly told your boss.
You looked at him in disbelief and smiled as your boss walked away.
The man smiled down at you and offered to help you stand up. "I'm Patrick." He mentioned once you were standing.
"I'm grateful. Thank you so much." Patrick laughed and dismissed it. "No really. How can I repay you?" Patrick smiled at you and shrugged.
"You don't have to-"
"How about a date? The one with a beard spoke up. You smiled even wider and looked to Patrick again. His cheeks had turned pink as he stared at his shoes.
"No. Seriously. It's fine. I just didn't want you getting shouted at when you'd done nothing wrong." You smile faltered and you took that as a sign he wasn't interested in you.
You cleaned the table, thanked him once more, and continued your job.
Patrick continued to visit the restaurant with his three friends frequently, and you served his table every time with a fluttering heart and a bright smile.
You learnt the names of his friends quickly. Andy, with the tattoos, Pete, with the cheek, and Joe with the Afro. And they all seemed to love you.
You noticed Patrick would come in by himself some times and he'd try and talk to you longer than you should've been at his table. You took it as a sign that he was just being friendly, since you knew he wasn't interested in you.
"Hey Patrick." You smiled as he sat alone, playing on his phone.
He stumbled to put his phone away and smiled up at you. "Hey, Prince- (Y/N). How are you?" You raised an eyebrow at his mistake but laughed non the less.
"Fine thank you. Usual for you today?" You beamed, notepad ready in hand.
"Please." He smiled cheekily, watching walk away with a dreamy look on his face.
Truth is, Patrick didn't even like the food here. Or any one, except you. You were the only reason he'd keep coming back.
One night, you'd been put on a closing shift. The other waitress split with out telling you so you were left to clean up the whole restaurant by yourself.
You hated this job. Everyone was so mean to you and the pay wasn't even that good. But it was the only job that would take you.
You huffed as you heard someone coming through the door. "We're closing. If you're hungry-"
"I've already eaten thanks." Patrick mused, smiling when you turned around, seemingly happier than before.
"Patrick. What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you. I'm just a little surprised." You asked, leaning on the bar.
He walked to the other side and leant in front of you. "Well, I tried getting to sleep earlier, but I couldn't stop thinking about you having to close up all be yourself. I thought I may as well come and help." Not only had he remembered your complaint from earlier, he wanted to do something about it. You started at him with what felt like literal heart eyes and giggled.
"Trick, you don't have to do that. In fact you shouldn't. If my boss found out-"
"I'll just give him a piece of my mind again." You bit your lip and giggled.
You put your hand on his and squeezed it. "Thank you, Patrick. You're too sweet for your own good." Patrick looked down at your hands, now intertwined properly, and gave you a dopey grin. The temptation to bring your hand to his lips was unbearable, but he knew he shouldn't. You must've just seen him as a friend because you never flirted (in his oblivious opinion).
It had been half an hour and you and Patrick were cleaning the restaurant quicker than expected, since there were now two of you.
You both met at the coffee machine and smiled at each other, getting to work silently.
"You know...you're pretty good at this. You ever consider working here instead of being a rock star?" You smirked. He laughed as shook his head.
"If it meant I got to see you more, sure." The words fell from his lips before he could think about it. You blushed and let a laugh past your lips. Why would he say that when he didn't like you?
"You're a confusing man, Trick." You sighed, wiping the surface as Patrick cleaned the machine, staring at you in bewilderment.
"How come?" His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to work.
You let out a breathy laugh. "Well, you act like you're not interested in me one day, and the next your closing shop with me and trying not to call me princess." You raised and eyebrow at him when he halted his movement.
"I-I." You looked at him hopefully, but when he said nothing you accepted defeat and went to walk away.
"Cool. I get it." You muttered glumly. He threw down his rag and walked after you.
"(Y/N)," You went to the till and started ordering the money. "I...I'm sorry." You ignored him and carried on counting. He stood next to you, hoping he'd say the next thing right. "Princess," you stopped what you were doing but refused to look at him, too mortified by confessing your feelings for him. "Please look at me." You caved and stared up in to those gold-blue eyes that saved you from your manager all those months ago. "I'm sorry if I've not been straight with you. I've never been great at these sorts of things and I thought you didn't feel the same." He looked down at you with sincerity on his face.
A smile broke out on your face, like it always did when he was around. You put your hand back on his, just like before and watched as he took the chance to raise your hand to his lips, pressing them softly against your skin. You bit your lip to contain the excited giggle bubbling in your throat.
With his other hand he softly caressed your face. And the next thing his lips touched were yours.
Of course your manager caught you and soon after fired you when Patrick told him off. But it was fine. Patrick said he'd help you find a job, even if that meant working for the bands manager.
You were just happy you finally had Patrick, and he had you.