Robin Hood or something
order 007 for anon: large classic milk tea with strawberry popping boba
*this was a request for general fluff, but there is some angst at the beginning and i'm so sorry about that, i got carried away T.T pls anonnie let me know if this is a problem and i can write a different fic with only fluff!!
Warnings: mentions of violence and knives, blood, injuries, explicit language
summary: badboy!Bobby fights a rude man at your café and also falls for how kind, patient and uh... attractive you are
[a/n]: this kind of also turned into a café?? au? since i've started working at a coffee shop ,, i'm getting some inspo heh
At around 11am, the café you work at gets incredibly busy as people begin trailing in to buy some lunch. All of the faces become a blur as you go into auto pilot, quickly taking orders and making drinks before moving onto the next person.
But you'll never forget one face.
During this rush one day, a boy walked in with baggy pants and a zip-up sweater, hood snug over his head. He had his hands in his pockets and stood slightly slouched over.
When he approached the till to make an order, he spoke quietly and looked down, avoiding your eyes.
"My friend wants a caramel macchiato. Could you get me that please?" he mumbled.
After handing you the payment in the form of loose change, he stood over to one side and waited for your to make his drink. Things seemed to be going okay until an angry customer approached you while you were making a drink.
"What the fuck's the hold up? Why is this taking so damn long?" he shouted, banging his fists against the counter.
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm working on it immediately," you said, shakily grabbing a cup to start his order despite having not started the orders that were before his yet.
"No, this is absolute bullshit. Every time I come in here, my time is wasted on a shitty drink," he grumbled.
He turned to leave, but walked back to push over a pot of hot coffee. Luckily, you were standing away from it so you didn't get burned, but it did spill all over the floor.
He turned to walk away for good this time, and you just stood there, wondering if you should clean up the mess or tend to the customers first.
Amidst your internal debate, you didn't notice the caramel macchiato boy following the angry man until you heard the commotion and looked up. The boy had grabbed the man's arm and turned him around while still tightly holding onto him.
"How dare you disrespect such a lovely worker?" the boy spat out at the man.
"What the hell are you on about?" the man huffed, rolling his eyes at the boy.
"What am I talking about? Why are you here causing a ruckus, spilling coffee when this poor worker is the only one here, trying to fulfill all of these orders? It's clearly busy and they're trying their best!"
You didn't expect such a hip-hop looking boy to defend you like this.
"Now you shut up before I-" the man started, raising his fist.
But the boy held it and pushed it down.
"No, you shut up," he said before punching the man right below his eye.
The man staggered backward before shuffling towards the boy again, who kicked the man in the stomach and shoved him towards the door.
"Get out," the boy growled.
It seemed like the man was going to leave when he stood up, but out of nowhere, he pulled a knife out of his pocket and slashed it across the side of the boy's face. Blood started dripping from the cut on his cheek, and he turned around to the man more angrily now.
"Didn't I tell you," he said, shoving the man back and pushing his knife out of his hands. It fell to the ground with a clank sound.
"To leave."
He shoved the man again.
"This café?"
The boy began repeatedly punching the man at this point, and finally out of your daze, you left the back of the counter and rushed towards the door to pull these two people apart, but the boy held you back.
"Don't worry, love. I'll just take out the trash," he said, grabbing the man by his collar and leaving your café.
You were incredibly flustered, but quickly picked up the knife on the ground and disposed of it before making sure everyone else in the café was okay. Someone offered to call the police, but you politely declined them when you noticed the boy was taking the man to the police station, anyway.
After continuing to fulfill the orders and passing the rush, you were able to clean the floor and return the state of the café to the way it originally was. You noticed many people had left tips for you, probably feeling bad about the rude man.
You leaned against the counter, staring at the caramel macchiato that had now grown cold. You wondered why this boy's friend hadn't come to pick up the drink himself, and began to worry about where this boy even was. But you caught yourself, telling yourself to not worry about strangers and to just continue on with your day.
After about fifteen minutes, the bell to your café chimed as someone stepped in. You told the customer that you were about to close, but stopped speaking when you noticed who it was.
The boy from earlier, the cut now a mess of dried blood on his face, was standing in front of you, reaching for the macchiato.
"Oh, it's gotten cold now! I'll make you a new one," you said, quickly grabbing a cup.
"No, no it's fine! I like it-I mean my friend likes it cold anyway," he said, holding onto the drink tightly.
You didn't listen, though, and quickly made him a new one. Then, you realized that this boy still had blood all over his face, so you rushed to grab the first aid kit, cursing yourself for not doing this sooner, before asking him to sit down so you could treat him.
Even though the cleaning wipes must have hurt for a cut like his, he sat still, taking small sips of the warm macchiato. You smiled.
"So, the drink was for you and not your friend, huh?"
The boy's eyes widened and he tore the drink away from his lips.
"N-no! I just... wanted to taste it," he explained.
"It's okay... you don't have to be so embarrassed! It's just a drink," you said, continuing to clean his cut.
"Ah... but it isn't cool for someone like me to come here and drink coffee."
"Why not?"
"I have a reputation... there's just... reasons."
"Well right now it's just you and me, so you don't have to worry about a thing. Go ahead and have your drink - I won't tell anyone," you told the boy with a smile.
He enjoyed his drink more comfortably now as you reached into your kit for a band-aid... pulling out one that had hello kitty faces all over it. You pressed your lips together and showed him the bandaid.
"Uh... so this is the only band-aid I've got in here... is that okay? It's the only one that's big enough... I can draw over it with a marker if you'd like?" you offered.
The boy laughed, shaking his head, no.
"It's fine. It's dark out, anyway," he said, letting you put the bandaid on.
After you put the kit away, you told the boy to continue drinking his drink as you cleaned the store and put the other chairs away.
"I'm... [y/n], by the way. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier," you said, while mopping the floor.
The boy pointed to the right side of his chest.
"I know. I can see your name tag."
You looked down, embarrassed at forgetting that you did indeed literally have a name tag on.
The boy laughed.
"It's okay. I'm Bobby," he said with a smile.
You nodded, continuing to clean.
"Oh, did things go okay at the police station? You didn't get into trouble, right?"
"No, all was good! Actually... my older brother works there, so he always helps me out. I know it isn't right, but... I always find the bad guys and bring them to him, and he helps me out when I need it."
You nodded along, intrigued by his story.
"So you're like... Robin Hood or something?"
"I don't steal from the rich, but I just turn the bad guys in. Completely different," Bobby said, laughing.
"Ah... right!"
"Hey, do you need any help cleaning?" Bobby asked you, standing up.
"No, no! That's fine... this is literally my job," you pointed out.
"Right... but I'm sorry about that rude man. You really didn't deserve for that to happen to you."
"It's all good. It happens sometimes!"
Bobby walked around the counter and placed his empty cup in the sink, talking to you as he walked back to the door.
"Well thanks for everything, [y/n], and expect me often. I'll definitely be back to see a pretty face like yours again."