Order Up! (Lay x Reader)
What is good people? Been awhile, huh? Well, I thought I’d give you guys a little something to tied you over while I finish my exams. This was requested by a sweet anon, who’d I also like to profusely apologize to for this requests tardiness and I hope you’ll forgive me! Anyway, please enjoy!
P.S. FUCK YIXING THE NO SHIRT WAS UNNECESSARY FOR THE LOVE ME RIGHT MV just kidding it was the best part lol
"Order up Miss ____!"
You perked up, but not before finishing the silverware you had been meticulously folding, smoothing your apron front daintily. You smiled gently at the chef, who's impatient frown softened as you grabbed the tray of food and chuckled, "If you ask me to go any faster, I might as well have to learn to teleport just to keep up with you."
As you gracefully slipped through the restaurant, you heard the chef give one of his rare belly laughs, another grin flitting across your soft feature. You weaved in and out of customers and coworkers, the platters you were carrying wafted a warm and delicious aroma behind you.
When you reached one of your tables, you set down the food happily, the diners gaping at both the food and you. Your cheeks were dusted pink when one of the customers admonished, "You're so cute, Miss ____! How are you not famous or an idol?"
You waved away their compliment with an embarrassed smile, "Oh, no. I'm really not-"
"It's really a shame you're couped up here waiting tables day and night, don't you think?," the young woman looked up sincerely from her plate.
You're eyes widened, "I actually enjoy my job very much, ma'am," you bowed politely, clutching the serving try tightly, "If there isn't anything else you need, I'll leave you to enjoy your meal." With that, you spun on your cute Mary Janes, your face suddenly burying into someone's chest. You gasped loudly, stumbling backwards in shock, successfully tripping over your own feet, and landing unceremoniously on your bottom.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry, miss!"
Someone crouched down beside you, a hand placing itself softly around your shoulders as they helped you up carefully.
You looked up at your attacked and rescuer, so shocked you nearly swallowed your tongue. He had to be the most handsome boy you'd ever seen. He had cheerful features with intense dark eyes that unabashedly stared at you with both concern and intrigue. His rosy lips were simply hypnotizing when he would suddenly worry one between his teeth. "Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?," he gripped one of your arms, steadying you as you regained your surroundings.
You stuttered pathetically, still staring at the gorgeous boy, "I-I'm fine!"
His angelic face was full of such genuine concern you could've squealed at the cuteness of it right then. He leaned in, "You're sure?" Just the proximity of his face to your own sent a heat to your cheeks, until they were as red as tomatoes.
You spluttered inelegantly, "Oh yes! I'm definitely fine now!" The restaurant gaped at the scene, disbelief written on their faces that the graceful sweetheart of the restaurant was so flustered.
And so red. Right then, he smiled.
It was probably the sweetest and most real smile you'd ever seen. It seemed to only be meant for you and it made you feel like you were the only person that mattered to him in that moment; that you were the most precious thing to him. It filled you with such a happy warmth, you wanted to huddle into his arms and let him hold you for the rest of eternity. Oh, that and his dimples. You believed no one could resist dimples as precious as his just then.
He bowed politely, his eyes alight with his smile, "That's a relief then. I don't think I could forgive myself if I hurt such a beautiful girl." With that he gave you one more amused smile before walking past you carefully. If there ever were a color more intense than red, you'd found it just then. Beautiful? You?! You didn't dare turn around for fear he'd see the redness of your face, so you stiffly walked back toward the kitchens, your back awkwardly straight, cursing your natural aptitude for blushing easily. You entered the stainless steel haven with a sigh of relief, still too flustered to get a grip of yourself. You peeked eagerly out the small round window of the kitchen doors to see if the boy was still in the restaurant. Not seeing him, you calmed down, trying to quell the sudden disappointment that pricked at you.
"Miss _____! We need you for a table!," the voice of a hostess called out. Taking a few calming breathes, you regained your cheerful countenance and pushed the kitchen doors open, "I'll be right there! How many at the table?"
The hostess handed you a single menu without looking up, "Just one." You nodded to yourself, before flitting through the restaurant to your assigned table, which was located at your favorite spot in the whole joint. A floor to ceiling window looked out over the adorable main street and since the restaurant was two stories, it looked out and over and left to right of the busiest street in the city, like a panoramic picture. Beside the window a small fireplace crackled merrily and the soft muttering of the space caused a relaxing atmosphere to diffuse throughout the tables.
You saw him before you even reached the table and you stopped in your tracks and gaped at him in both disbelief and obvious admiration. The handsome boy who'd bumped into you earlier looked like he came straight out of a movie, what with the way he gazed with distant eyes out of the window, watching the people and cars stroll down the street. His head rested pensively on his propped elbow as the other hand picked absentmindedly at the table cloth. Swallowing your nervousness with a gulp of air, you walked confidently over to his table. You bowed cheerfully and placed the menu on the table with a bit too much force, "Good evening! I'm ____, and I'll be taking care of you."
He looked pleasantly surprised to see you again, but he greeted you smoothly, "Hello again. I was hoping I'd have you as my waitress. If someone else had you, I think I might have had to fight them to have you all to myself."
You attempted to steel yourself and not blush, but failed miserably, "Oh, please! I'm not worth fighting over."
He smirked and it had to be the sexiest thing you'd ever seen, "I beg to differ." You almost missed it, but you caught his eyes flicker up and down your body, "By the way, Miss _____, that outfit looks especially cute on you."
You unconsciously tugged the frilly skirt with your fingers, not believing that he'd just checked you out and his compliment. You smoothed your apron before reaching into one of the pockets, taking out your paper pad and pen.
Clearing your throat, you stuttered, "T-thank you. May I start you off with a drink?"
He smiled again, almost to himself, his dimples poking cutely from his cheeks as he spoke, "I think I'll have whatever you think I'd want." You furrowed your eyebrows and he laughed, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." Dimples. He grinned toothily this time, "I want to see what you'd think I'd want. Surprise me."
You blinked, before chuckling to yourself, "Alrighty then. I'll be right out with your 'surprise'." You turned and could practically feel his dark gaze burning a hole into your back as your skirt swished tantalizingly.
Once you reached the kitchen, you nearly slumped against one of the counters in exhaustion. Just walking from the table to here felt like you'd just run a marathon. Your face was heated and your heart was beating a mile a minute. Composing yourself for the umpteenth time that day, you decided you'd serve him raspberry lemonade, your favorite drink. You weren't sure why, but instinct drove you to it, so you picked up the glass and returned to the table, where he sat contemplating the menu with wide-eyes intrigue. For some reason you were nervous as you handed him the drink, "Here's the surprise you asked for. Please, enjoy."
He didn't even examine the drink twice before he sipped it, a look of happiness crossed his face. He looked up at you excitedly, "How'd you know?"
You arched an eyebrow, "Know what?"
In his excitement he grabbed your hand without noticing, your eyes widening to the size of plates, "That raspberry lemonade is my favorite drink."
You were genuinely surprised, pleasantly in fact, "It's actually my favorite too, so it was the first drink I thought of."
"Huh," he smirked again, making your heart flutter, "What a funny coincidence." You shifted on your feet, taking out your pad of paper and pen again before asking, "Have you decided what you would like tonight?"
He didn't even look up, a smile twitched on his lips, "I think you already know."
You raised a brow, "I'm afraid I don't, perhaps you can tell me?"
He looked up and you expected a smirk, but instead was greeted with his adorable smile, dimples and all. For the first time tonight, he'd lost his confident facade and was replaced by what you believed was actually him. His dark eyes twinkled playfully, "I'd like to order the cute and witty waitress with the beautiful eyes."
Your froze and bit your lip painfully hard, deciding to play along with him, "How would you like that to be cooked?" His eyes flickered up and down you body again, this time fully knowing that you would notice him.
He smoothly replied, without missing a beat, "I would prefer her to be well done."
In that instant, you would have gladly crawled into a hole and never come out again, so that no one could see just how scarlet you were. Your body shivered and blushed under his gaze and neither of you spoke for what felt like an eternity. The two of you were locked in each other's gaze, his eyes softening until it felt like you'd been swallowed into their very depths.
He broke the silence suddenly, "I'm Lay."
"____," you blurted, "But you already knew that."
He laughed. You laughed. The two of you ended up just looking at each other again, letting the silence fall again. You didn't even realize his hand had crept across the table until his fingers were entwined with your own. His voice was soft and a little timid, "What time do you...?"
You finished for him, a smile on your petal pink lips, "Get off?...Thirty minutes."
You clicked your pen close and turned to walk away mischievously. He stopped you and grabbed your hand again, dimples cheekily poking out, "What about my food, ____?"
You grinned and tugged your hand away playfully, "You're getting me aren't you?"
He leaned back in his seat, a satisfied smile on his lips, "Guess that's exactly what I ordered."








