#kidding mars | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsmarsss · 7 months ago

Text

Maybe. [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

(~from the vault~)

Miguel Diaz is annoying. That you are convinced of. Sure, you've never really talked to him, but still, you live a very happy life that way. But then one day he gets wasted at a party and you end up with the unfortunate job of driving him home. Sounds like just your luck.

Warnings: making out, little jokes about sex, some sexual tension there. enemies to lovers except the enemies part is completely one-sided

Word count: 9,567

[...]

Miguel Diaz wasn’t the kind of guy to have a lot of enemies.

He had, in fact, become fairly popular after he started doing karate and won a fight against West Valley’s biggest bully, surpassing the loser label that had immediately been slapped onto him when he’d moved into the neighborhood.

He was the typical nice guy who pretty much everyone seemed to like. Good at school, the type who wouldn’t hesitate to help you with schoolwork if you asked him to. Always nice to everyone, greeting and smiling at random people he’d never talked to before in the hallways as if they were one of his friends.

But, to you, Miguel Diaz was just irritating.

Everything about him somehow made you mad. He was just so apparently perfect and all of a sudden people couldn’t seem to shut up about him and that was sure to make you nothing short of annoyed. Yeah, you supposed he did seem nice, but you were positive it was impossible that all that sudden praising hadn’t gotten to his head.

You were convinced he was a huge asshole deep down, just a loser who got lucky enough. And though you had no real evidence to back that up, yet to see this facade of his that you convinced yourself of, you still couldn’t get yourself to like him.

Whatever. You could survive a life without him in it.

It didn’t help, though, that your best friend was friends with him. Did karate with him, too. Aisha absolutely loved Miguel, and seemed to make sure to mention it to you all the time.

They were genuinely good friends, and so you supposed you did feel a little bad when you dragged her to sit with you and away from her Cobra Kai friends during lunch, but you were positive that if you tried to sit with them you’d end up saying some not very nice things, and you weren’t up for drama at the moment.

But she kept bugging you about it, insistently so, and god, could Aisha be persistent when she wanted to. So one day, to shut her up about it mostly, you agreed to go with her and her friends to a party at the canyon.

You told her you’d try to be nice, but made a promise to yourself to keep distance from a certain someone specifically. Maybe then you’d be able to enjoy the night and- hey- maybe even the others’ company.

Maybe.

[. . .]

“Don’t just stand there!” Aisha laughed.

“Since when are you a party person?”

“Since I realized I could throw them!”

Wait, what? “Wait, this is your party?”

“Well it’s a Cobra Kai party…”

Alright, so you didn’t want to give it to them. Cobra Kai as a whole annoyed you to no end, as it seemed to be a breeding factory for nerds turned into stuck-up assholes, but you couldn’t deny you were grateful for how much it helped Aisha. The Aisha you knew a few months prior would have never had the guts to throw a party, let alone assume people would attend it.

So, fair enough. “Cool!” “Hey Aisha come watch me do a keg stand!” Some guy you’d seen walking around with the Cobra Kai guys before yelled from the other side of the place.

Aisha glanced back at you, seemingly a bit torn about leaving you. “Do you wanna come?”

“No it’s fine. I think I’m gonna grab something to drink. Now go!” You assured her, smiling. You wanted her to enjoy having other friends.

You barely had time to pick yourself up a drink before you weren’t alone anymore.

“Y/N!” A guy wearing a graphic t-shirt that quite literally read ‘📍your mom’ under a flower pattern button-up called your name, walking towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, as you were completely sure you’d never talked to him before.

You didn’t know how to feel about not being so invisible anymore, all by association with Aisha. It definitely felt a little weird. “Um. Have we- have we met? Sorry.”

“Not really. But Aisha talks about you a lot. I’m Demetri, by the way,” he held out his hand, and you shook it. What teenager shakes hands these days?

“Well, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know,” he laughed. “So, you want me to show you everyone?”

“Uh. Okay. Sure. Yeah. That'd be cool."

“So, that’s Eli-” He pointed at the guy who sported a blue-dyed mohawk, and was currently rather busy making out with someone you actually knew- Moon. You didn’t exactly like Moon, but you supposed she did seem to be more of an out-of-touch person than a mean one, compared to her friends. “Uh yeah, who’s apparently making out with Moon. Somehow. He likes to be called Hawk now but I think that’s pretty ridiculous.”

“It is.”

“Yeah well he used to uh- some people used to call him Lip. ‘Cause he has a scar.”

“That’s him?” Said boy pulled away from Moon, and you took a good look at him. It was him. You always thought he looked cute, but you had to admit now he looked kind of hot.

You had to give Cobra Kai some credit in that area too.

“Yeah.” Demetri turned you around. “Those two walking down are Robby and Samantha and-” He seemed to realize something, suddenly looking worried.

“Something wrong?”

“No uh. I don’t really talk to them. That,” he spun you around one last time, “Is Miguel. But you must know him already.”

“Yeah I’ve heard of him.” He was downing a beer bottle at rapid speed. “He’s really getting shitfaced,” you pointed out.

Demetri still looked worried, nervous. “Yeah uh, Sam’s his girlfriend.”

“The one walking down the hill?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“He thinks she’s cheating on him. With Robby.”

You looked at the two again, laughing, their fingers intertwined. You could be taking it wrong, of course, but it did look like they were together in some way. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to feel a little jealous of a scene like that at least. “Oh that sucks.”

You weren’t heartless, okay? Just because you didn’t like the guy didn’t mean you wanted him to get cheated on. If that’s what was even happening.

“We should go-” Demetri grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you with him on Miguel’s direction.

“What? No-” You weren’t heartless, but you weren’t his friend either. What were you going to do, comfort him? Let him cry on your shoulder? Come on now.

But you didn’t even have the time to protest. You were already there, and it seemed that so were the Samantha girl and the Robby guy , and Miguel didn’t look pleased.

Well, he was laughing, but it was definitely not a good kind of laugh.

“So I don’t have to worry, right? Well that’s funny.”

Miguel was wasted.

He tried to pick up a fight, and ended up hitting his own girlfriend on accident, which had, expectedly, resulted in her breaking up with him on the spot. Now you were sitting beside him, and you didn’t know what to do.

Wouldn’t it be best if you just left? Clearly you shouldn’t be here, his actual friends should be dealing with this. But then again it would be too shitty to leave Aisha on her own. You had agreed to be her designated driver after all.

Everyone was quiet, apparently not knowing what to say. God, someone really should bring the guy home.

Hawk spoke up, finally, voicing those same thoughts. “Um, dude, you should go home.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re really drunk, man, just go home.”

“I walked here.”

“Shit. Right. Do any of you have a car?” Demetri asked no one in particular.

“Oh Aisha does. Well it’s her dad’s,” you pointed out, not really thinking it through.

Aisha’s look shot up. “But-” You could see she was conflicted. You could understand. Finally people wanted her around, and she wanted to stay a little longer for that.

You could not believe you were about to do this.

“I’m such a good friend,” you muttered, standing up, and Aisha looked at you, puzzled. You held your hand out. "Gimme the keys."

"What-"

"Do it before I change my mind."

She did as you said, placing it on your hand. You took another look at Miguel, then at Hawk. "Can you help him?"

Hawk immediately stood up to do so, and you made your way to Aisha's car, leaving both Aisha and Demetri behind with a promise you'd come back later to drive them all home too.

"Do you know where he lives?"

Hawk was done shoving a now barely conscious Miguel into the passenger's seat, buckling the seatbelt for him, which you took notice of. He seemed to care a lot about Miguel. "Yeah I'll- can you give me your number? I'll forward it."

"Sure."

[. . .]

"Where are we going?" At some point along the way Miguel seemed to have gained a little consciousness back, his eyes widening as he took bearing of his surroundings. You could understand why. He was in a random car going who-knows-where with a kind of random person who hated him. Well he didn’t really know about that last part, but still.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, my mom can't see me like this."

"What?"

"I can't go home like this you don't get it-"

"But where-"

"She's been so proud of me lately, I-" Was he… crying? So he was an emotional drunk. Miguel Diaz, a crier. Who would've thought.

"Well where the fuck am I supposed to take you?"

"I- sensei- no he lives next door you can't-"

"Diaz I'm gonna take you home. I don't care."

"Fuck."

You actually took a good look at him when you had to stop at a red light. He looked a mess. He was sweating, hair sticking to his forehead, legs shaking in anxiety.

You couldn't be this soft, right?

You sighed in annoyance, but you were doing this to yourself, really. "I'll take you to my place. But you better sober up cause you're gonna have to get in through the window."

He seemed surprised. "You'll do that?"

"Yeah don't get used to it. I'm kicking you out as soon as I wake up."

He stayed silent the whole ride, until you turned the engine off.

"Thanks," he muttered under his breath, before you opened the door to get out. You didn't reply.

You helped him out, holding him by his wrists until he got his balance back, and you both climbed through your bedroom window, which you were now thankful you'd left open.

"G’mme your phone."

“Why?”

“I’m gonna text your mom.” He unlocked it, getting the password wrong a few times before handing it to you. The texts you sent were simple.

hey mom im really tired gonna stay at demetri’s call you in the morning!

You didn’t know if trusting Miguel to be alone with his phone, in that state, especially after what had gone down at the canyon, was the smartest choice, so you took it with you, stuffing it in your back pocket.

“Okay look I still gotta get Aisha and the guys, so I'm trusting you to keep quiet." This was a bad idea. "Can you do that?" This was a terrible idea.

He nodded before plopping down on your bed. This was a horrible idea.

He was asleep in a second, and there was nothing else you could do but hope he'd stay that way as you climbed your way back out.

. . .

"Okay any of you that wanna get home get in the fucking car please," you said, not really up to stay and wait even more for them. After all, every second you were there was one more second in which a completely wasted Miguel Diaz was alone in your room, with your mom right there in hers.

All three got inside pretty quickly, and you dropped them off as fast as you could. Demetri first, then Hawk, Aisha last.

You actually got in through the door this time, so your mom would know you'd gotten home without having to go check your room. You prayed she hadn't done that already.

"Mom? You awake?"

"Yes! The party done?"

"Yeah. Had to drop some friends off, sorry I took too long."

"It's fine. Didn't Aisha pick you up though?"

"Oh yeah she left the car with me, got to be the driver for today. I’ll just pick her up tomorrow.”

"Oh okay honey!”

"Well I'm really tired. Gonna go to sleep.”

"Yeah, me too. Goodnight!"

“‘Night, Love you!”

With that, you quickly took off to your room to check on Miguel, who, surprisingly, was still asleep on your bed.

Your relief quickly washed away when you registered the fact that he was asleep… on your bed. You know, where you were supposed to sleep. Fucking great.

You considered waking him up and making him sleep on the floor. For… reasons that had everything to do with not being an asshole, and nothing to do with anything else at all, you didn’t.

You grabbed some blankets and placed them on the floor beside your bed, snatching one of your pillows from under his head. This was going to absolutely kill your spine.

You took one last look at him, and couldn’t contain a laugh at how ridiculous he looked, draped over the bed, hair disheveled, literally drooling. You’d have to change your pillowcase tomorrow.

‘Good-fucking-night, I guess.'

[. . .]

Your alarm went off at 7, as it always did on school mornings, and you jumped awake when you remembered how gross you probably were after the previous night. Miguel was still in deep sleep when you left to take a shower, but was sitting up on the bed, looking confused, when you came back. He’d apparently already taken the advil you left for him on your nightstand, as it was nowhere to be found.

“Are you- what am I doing here?”

“Drank too much. Cried like a baby when I tried to drive you home,” you shrugged. “Now hurry up, dude, or we’re gonna be late.”

“What?”

“Look we’ll talk in the car, I can’t be late for chemistry again or Mr. Henderson is gonna be up my ass about it.”

He still looked completely out of the loop, barely awake yet, but nodded, standing up and following you to the car.

“Why’d you bring me here?” He finally spoke up after a couple minutes in silence. It seemed that he was finally becoming fully aware of what was going on.

“I was actually gonna bring you home, but you started crying ‘cause you didn’t want your mom to see you drunk or whatever. So. Next best thing.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “So, uh. you’re friends with Aisha, right? She talks a lot about you-”

You cut him short. “Look, just because I let you stay over and sleep in my bed doesn’t mean we’re friends, alright? You don’t have to be friendly just ‘cause you think you owe me something.”

“Um, I was just trying to be nice-”

“I’m not an asshole, I wasn’t gonna do you like that. I’m very nice, you’re very welcome, whatever.”

“Are you- are you... mad at me?” He looked surprised- no, dumbfounded was a more fitting word to describe it.

You scoffed. In truth, you still had no idea what about him got you so irritated. It’s not like he wasn’t being nice.

Still, you couldn’t help it. “What, can you not believe there’s one person out there who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on?” Okay, so you were exaggerating. So what? Not like it was gonna make much of a difference for him.

“I don’t think anyone worships the ground I walk on.”

"Whatever, Diaz. I’m only doing this ‘cause you’re Aisha’s friend.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“About what?”

“Your girlfriend, or whatever.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, it’s fine. I was an asshole last night. Should’ve expected it. I’ll get over it.”

“Yeah. Oh Hawk’s bringing you a hoodie, by the way. So you don’t smell like alcohol at school.”

“Thank you.”

Nope. “His idea.”

He nodded. “Right.”

It wasn’t long until you pulled up into Aisha’s driveway, making your way out and around the car and opening the passenger's door to find Miguel staring at you, silently asking what you wanted.

"Move. I take shotgun when Aisha drives."

"Does that really-" He didn't bother finishing his sentence, letting out a sigh before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

"Thank you," you said, making sure it didn't actually sound like you were thankful at all, before hopping in. Miguel did the same, getting in the backseat.

You quickly separated as soon as you got to school, with Miguel following Hawk to change into the hoodie he brought him, and you and Aisha getting on your way to Chemistry with Mr. Henderson.

Aisha shot you a weird look. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"You're being a total bitch to him! What happened to the person that took him home last night? Let him stay over?"

"For your information I do have empathy, you know? He was crying!”

"You still could've just taken him home," she shrugged, a smug look on her face. Jerk.

"Hey this is all on you! He left my bed reeking of beer, you owe me a big one."

"He slept in your bed?"

"And I slept on the floor, dumbass! He was passed out drunk!"

"Yeah sorry I don’t think I remember a lot of it. But you slept on the floor? That must've hurt."

"It did. So he should be very thankful."

"I... think he is. You're just not letting him thank you."

"Hey I let him thank me! But that doesn't mean we have to be friends. I'm doing pretty well without him in my life."

"Just admit he's not as bad as you thought and move on!"

"Oh fuck off. What do you want me to do next, marry him or something?"

"Hey you’re the one who’s bringing it up,” she put her hands up in surrender, as if defending herself.

"Shut up. Pay attention, Ms. Robinson!" You mocked her, turning to the projector in front of you.

[. . .]

"Yeah right like Demetri could win a fight against Hawk."

"I think he could! If he got some training." Aisha protested, laughing.”

"Oh come on have you seen the guy? I don't know what your sensei's been feeding him but he's like jacked now."

"Oh so you've been paying attention?" She raised an eyebrow in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"Like I'd want something to do with a guy from Cobra Kai."

"Hey!"

"You're an exception! You are on thin ice though."

"Well I think you should give them a chance."

Of course you could see right through her. "If by them you mean Miguel's included then you can forget it."

"What is it with you and him anyway? What did he ever even do to you?

"Nothing? I don't know, he just makes me mad. You can't be that perfect and not be an asshole."

"Did you just call him perfect?"

"I was being mean about it!"

"You totally d-" She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed you weren't paying attention, your eyes focused on something right behind her. She turned around to face…

Well, speak of the devil.

"What?" You asked him dryly. What could he possibly have to talk to Aisha about right now that required interrupting your lunch?

But he was actually talking to you. "I uh- I think I left my phone at your place? I can't find it anywhere."

You mentally cursed yourself for it, remembering you'd taken it with you the night before. "Shit yeah. I was scared you'd call someone or it would ring and my mom would hear or something. I guess… You can come over to get it after school if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." He was about to turn around and walk back to the table he was sitting at with his friends before he stopped. "Do you guys wanna like. Sit with us?"

Aisha looked at you expectantly.

"No, we're good," you replied, and he nodded, making his way back.

"Dude! Let's just go!"

"What I already have to see him after school and now you want me to spend lunch with him? No thank you."

"You're so stupid."

You stuck your middle finger out at her before going back to eating.

[. . .]

You had already told Aisha goodbye, and were about to leave when he came up to you again. “Hey! Y/n! Wait-”

You turned around to face him. He was out of breath, clearly having run all the way up to you. You quirked an eyebrow, demanding him to tell you what he wanted. This was like a 400% increase on your Miguel Diaz interaction scale and you were right about done.

“My phone.”

Oh, right. He was coming over, like, right away. That was great.

“Yeah right. I’m walking home though.”

“Yeah I’ll- I’ll walk with you.”

And what an awkward fucking walk.

“Well here it is,” you handed him the phone, and he took it, stuffing it in his back pocket.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Sure.”

“See you at school?”

Hopefully not. “I guess.”

[. . .]

“Oh I’ll- be right back!” You heard Miguel’s voice behind you as you walked through the hallway alone, on your way to bio, and made sure not to look his way, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

You had no luck with that.

“Y/n!”

You let out a defeated sigh before turning around. He was wearing a deep-red hoodie, which was something you took notice off, for some reason.

“Yes?”

“Hey I know you don’t want anything to do with me-” you nodded, agreeing, and he pursed his lips together before continuing. “-but I think uh- I think I left my socks at your place too?”

He had to be kidding, right? “What?”

“My uh- my socks.”

“You think you left your socks in my room. And you wanna go get them.”

“Well yeah.”

“Can you not survive without one pair of socks?”

“Well-”

“You know what, fine. Whatever. I’m leaving a little late today though so you’ll have to stick around.”

“Yeah sure.”

You wordlessly turned around and walked to class. It seemed that interacting with Miguel was now a daily experience. That was just such fun, huh?

. . .

You found him waiting for you by the bike racks, right by the front steps, as you exited the building. You kind of didn’t actually expect him to wait for you. I mean, he could just ask you to look for the stupid socks and bring them to him the next day. That’s certainly what you would do if you were in his shoes, as to avoid the interaction.

You had to remind yourself, though, that the hate you felt for him isn’t mutual, which only angered you further. Couldn’t he just hate you back? Be a little rude? Maybe then you wouldn’t look like a bitch for being like that towards him.

“You didn’t take that long,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. Turns out they wanna move the project up for one more week or something.”

“That’s cool.” He pulled his bike out of the rack, grabbing the handles and starting to walk with it by his side, and you followed along. You were both quiet for a couple minutes before, of course, he couldn’t help himself from talking. Did he think everyone wanted to hear him talk all the time?

A tiny part of you told you he was just trying to be nice. Okay, fine. Maybe you were being too harsh.

“What’s your deal with me?”

Yeah, no, he can perrish actually. “What do you mean?”

“I mean why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“It… definitely looks like it.”

“Well I don’t.” Well...

“Then why do you act like you do?”

“What, are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“I just wanna know what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything! You never seem to do anything wrong, do you?”

“What?”

“What, don’t play dumb. I don’t know what it is, okay? You just annoy me. You’re so nice to everyone and everyone just likes you so much and you don’t even have to do anything!”

“You don’t like me… because I’m nice to people. And so they like me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s how it sounded.”

“Whatever. We’re here,” you pointed out, and you made your way into your place. Not without taking notice of the sky, which was a dark grey color now, a storm forming. “Come on you can leave the bike here, looks like it’s gonna rain.”

“Yeah, I think…”

[. . .]

… So you were stuck at home with him.

This had to be a nightmare.

The clouds were quick to cover the sky right after you got inside, and you could barely see any hint of sunlight despite it still over four in the afternoon. Rain started pouring heavily quickly after, a storm suddenly forming in no time.

And so there you were. In your kitchen. Alone. Stormed in with Miguel Diaz.

This was just fantastic. Great, amazing, wonderful even!

And your annoyance was apparently visible. “Look if you’re so mad about it I can go-”

You stared at him for a couple seconds, unamused. “You wanna bike? In the middle of the storm?”

He just shrugged.

“I don’t hate you that much, you know? You can stay ‘till it’s over.” God, did you hope it would be over soon.

“See you told me you didn’t hate me at all.”

“Okay yeah you can go.”

He laughed. “Fine. I won’t push. Do you wanna do something?”

“I mean I don’t think there’s a lot to do. I guess we could watch something.”

“Yeah! That’s cool!”

“Well what do you-” you were interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing, and you took it out of your pocket, only to see it was your mom calling. Miguel sat back down by the counter as you picked it up.

“Honey are you okay? Are you home yet?”

“Yeah we got here just in time. Are you alright?”

“Yes, but the rain’s really bad here- wait, we? Is Aisha over?”

You took a glance at Miguel. Now how to explain that?

“Uh, actually it’s another friend.”

“Is it? Who?”

“Um his name’s Miguel? We were gonna do a- a physics project. But he rides a bike, so.”

There was a pause. “Right. Are you two gonna be okay?”

“Yeah don’t worry! We’ll just do what we need to do ‘till he can go.”

“Fine. Call me if you need anything! I’ll head home as soon as the storm clears.”

“Right. Love you!”

[. . .]

“Um does she not mind?” You were both sitting on the couch now, about 20 minutes into Thor: Ragnarok, when he said something.

You looked away from the screen. “What?”

“Y- your mom? That I’m here, I mean.”

“Oh she did sound a little- I dunno. But it’s not like she’s gonna make you go out in this weather.”

“Cool. Oh- we didn’t- I didn’t get my socks.”

You laughed at the thought of him thinking about his stupid socks the entire time you’d been watching the film. “Do those socks really matter that much to you? Oh are they too embarrassing? Do they have like little spongebobs on them or something?”

“No, I just-” he seemed to be fighting it, but was now laughing too. “No they don’t have little spongebobs on them. Just remembered it.”

“We can get it after the movie’s done.”

“Right.” He brought his attention back to the TV, but you decided to grab your phone and text Aisha.

y/n

dude youre not gonna fucking believe my luck

She replied almost instantly.

aisha

????? what happened

y/n

well miguel came over to get his socks or whatever

aisha

and???? ;))))))

y/n

this isnt a ;) situation!!! were stuck inside!!!

aisha

omg are you serious its just rain

y/n

yeah but pretty boy here rides a bike

aisha

dude you walk

y/n

irrelevant!!!!!

aisha

well what are you doing rn?

y/n

were watching thor trying not to kill him

aisha

oh shut up

y/n

he’s annoying!!!

aisha

just watch the movie and wait for the rain to stop its not that hard

y/n i've watched this like 7 times already he was just really excited to watch it

aisha

awww you're all soft for him

y/n

im going over your house to kill you

aisha

you cant bc you're stuck with miguel!! WAIT

y/n

what?

aisha

you're home alone with a cute boy and youre complaining??

y/n

hes not a cute boy!!! hes miguel!!!

aisha

whos a cute boy

y/n

you dont even like guys

aisha

im not blind??

y/n

shut up

aisha

get some!!!!

y/n

die

aisha

:))))))

You put your phone down looking at Miguel once again. He was really concentrated on whatever was going on in the movie, so you decided it was safe to stare for a little bit. He didn’t look as messy like he did that day at the party. He even-

“That hoodie looks good on you.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

You really hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You couldn’t quite figure out his expression. God, he was gonna make fun of you-

“Thanks,” was all he said in return. He was staring at you now, as if trying to figure you out. You supposed you had to give it to him- you were just as shocked at yourself to blurt that out as he seemed to be. The movie seemed to be long forgotten.

You expected some snarky remark, a cocky grin. But nothing. Was that it? He was probably controlling himself as to not laugh at your face about it, you just knew it.

You couldn’t take the embarrassment. Why did you have to make things weird? You suddenly stood up in a quick motion. “I’m gonna find us something to eat.”

Aisha’s texts must have just gotten to your head, because why else would you even say something like that? You didn’t think he looked in that hoodie. Wait, no, that’s not what you said. You said you thought the hoodie looked good on him. Whatever, you had to focus.

And then he did the worst possible thing he could have done, which was offer to go with you.

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! “Sure.” You tried to act normal. There was nothing normal about the weird tension you’d managed to create between the two of you.

It’s safe to say things were awkward. You occupied yourself with opening and looking through every single cabinet in the kitchen, even the ones where you knew there would be no food, trying desperately to find excuses to delay looking at him.

“Um are you okay?”

“Yes.” You were not. “Why?”

“You’ve been looking for something for a while. I’m not that hungry you know, you don’t have to.”

“Well I am.” You grabbed the first thing you could find, which was a chocolate bar, thankfully. At least one good thing to come out of this never-ending disastrous afternoon. “Found it.” You held it up for him to see, but made sure to avoid eye contact before making your way to the living room.

You both sat down to resume watching the movie, but there was still this weird energy around the room, one which, again, you’d gracefully created on your own, and you felt antsy. “Do you wanna go get your socks?”

“Uh, okay?”

You nodded back, turning around and making your way towards your room, knowing he’d follow you. You quickly sat down on your bed and waited for him to walk through the door.

“Hey.”

“Um I didn’t see any socks anywhere so. Feel free to look around.” You finally worked up the guts to look at him for a split second. He nodded.

[. . .]

An hour had gone by since, and the storm didn’t look like it was getting any better. You’d even passed the point of being embarrassed about what you’d said earlier- okay, maybe not completely, but still- and were just staring at the ceiling, laying on your bed, waiting for the time to pass. Miguel was sitting right beside you, and you didn’t remember the last time one of you had said a word until he broke the silence again. God this kid loves to talk doesn’t he?

“You don’t actually hate me, right?”

“Are we still on about that?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about. I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I go to West Valley High. I'm stuck inside my house right now."

“Wow now I know everything there is to know, thank you,” he returned with sarcasm.

“What do you wanna know?” It had to be the peak of boredom, engaging in small talk with Miguel Diaz of all people. What was this, 21 questions?

“Well what kind of music do you like?”

“Little bit of everything I guess. Rock, pop, whatever.”

“You like 80’s rock?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. My sensei showed it to me and it’s been my favorite.”

You didn’t mean to laugh.

“What?”

“Just weird. Sensei.”

“Well that’s the word.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

“Joining Cobra Kai.”

This time you made sure to laugh loudly. “Yeah. Would be a dream come true.”

“What’s so wrong with Cobra Kai?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Diaz, Cobra Kai has helped Aisha a lot. But honestly it just seems like it recruits nerds and turns them into self-conceited jerks.”

“Um would I be one of those self-conceited jerks?”

“Sure.”

“Have I done anything to you? I don’t-”

“You haven’t. But just- everyone keeps praising you for everything. And you didn’t let it get to your head? I don’t buy it.”

“People don’t praise me for everything. I've gotten beaten up a fair amount."

“Whatever.”

“Well what’s your favorite color?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“It’s a valid question.”

“What’s yours?”

“Orange.”

“That’s lame.”

“What's yours then?”

“Y/F/C.”

“That’s lamer.”

“Very funny.” You mocked him, but realized you were actually smiling.

He opened a smile of his own. “See? I’m not that bad.”

“You’re bearable.”

“That’s progress.” There was a pause. “Well you should come to practice some day.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To see that you’re wrong! We’re like family. I’ve never had anything like that before Cobra Kai.”

“Yeah I don’t think that’ll happen. But I’ll keep it in mind.”

[. . .]

“Yes mom I know. Yes he’s still here. Of course I’m not gonna let him go out in this weather. No, are you sure? But where will you- fine. But please talk to me. Right, love you.”

“So?”

“She's gonna have to stay there until things get better.”

“What? Is it still that bad?”

“Apparently. There were like a bunch of car accidents around the buildings.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

[. . .]

“This is so fucking boring.”

“Do you have any games on your phone or something?”

“You sound like a little kid.”

“Shut up.” He totally did.

“What is it?’

“What?”

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you.”

“You were! Weirdo.”

There was a pause. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you think my hoodie looks good on me.”

“No?" You tried.

“Then why why’d you say it?”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“You know if you actually gave me a chance I think we could be good friends.”

“Yeah in your dreams, Diaz. I’d probably kill you.”

He actually had the nerve to laugh at you. “Yeah I don’t think you could.”

“I think I could!” You tried defending yourself, but you knew it was complete bullshit. I mean, have you seen his arms?

Not that you’d been looking!

Obviously not.

“Did you forget I literally do karate almost every single day?”

You shrugged in fake disdain. “Still think I could take you.”

He let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay.” He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You shot him a confused look. “What, prove it then!”

“No I’m not doing that.”

“So you’re admitting you can’t take me.”

You knew you couldn’t, but you also doubted he’d go too hard on you. Plus this was a matter of pride now, you couldn’t just let him have that. He knew exactly how to push your buttons to get you to do this. You immediately took his hand, standing up as well. “I said I could.”

“Alright. Come on," he challenged you, getting in a fighting stance, and you tried your best to mimic him, holding your hands in fists in front of your body. He laughed at that, reaching to change the position of your hands. “Okay this,” he said as he moved them just a little bit, “could break your thumbs.”

“Fine. That good enough, sensei?” You mocked, and the boy made a funny expression at that, but quickly snapped out of it.

“Okay, so I’m gonna try to sweep your leg, like this,” he pretended to do the motion, “and what you’re gonna do is block my leg with your right arm, like this,” he did the same with the new movement.

“This isn’t a karate lesson, just fight me!”

“Alright, whatever you say. You ready?”

You were not. “Yup.”

Okay, terrible idea.

In no time he’d done as he said, and your back was immediately pressed to the floor, with no time to even process it happening.

Still, you weren’t gonna just not get a little fun out of it. “You got lucky."

He dared to laugh at you again, before sticking out his hand for you to take. You couldn’t contain a grin as you pulled him to the floor beside you, laughing at his surprise when you were successful.

“Oh I see how it is!” He exclaimed, laughing. You were already starting to stand up, but he tackled you to the floor again, hovering over you.

“Jerk!” You punched him on the chest, playfully, but you were both laughing, despite both being extremely out of breath. You tried to catch him by surprise again, and went to flip your positions, but he was quicker, pinning you to the floor by both your wrists. It was no use then, when he was clearly stronger than you.

But then something really, really weird happened. After your laughter calmed down, it was impossible not to take notice of how the two of you looked right now.

It’s like you had to think about it a second time for the situation to actually click: he was on top of you, having you quite literally pinned under him by your wrists, practically straddling you at that point, with his knees on the floor on either side of your hips.

You looked up at him, and he was staring at your face. Intently so.

For some reason you couldn’t get yourself to look away. It lasted a ridiculously long time, the eye contact, or at least that’s what it felt like, and you were still out of breath from the play fighting, your brain trying to catch on to the situation you were in.

You could swear you saw him glance down at your lips, fueling the tension that was already inherently thick in the air between you. You immediately tried to rid yourself of the thought, as it was probably ridiculous- but then he did the last thing you’d expect him to do.

He actually leaned in.

And you did something even weirder than that: you actually let him do it.

In a second his lips were on yours, and he almost lost his balance as you got your wrists free of his grip, instinctively reaching for the back of his head, intertwining your fingers to his hair.

The adrenaline of it all was thrilling, and it was like your brain had stopped stopped working altogether. After all if you had been functioning normally you would not find yourself in this situation.

No matter. At that moment all you were really worried about was kissing him. You kissed him back, and then you did it again, and again, and again, until you had to pull away to breathe, your chest heaving up and down, as did his, and your breaths being the only sound heard around the entire house, much louder than the now muffled sound of the rain and thunder outside.

And then you made eye contact again and it seemed as what just happened downed on you, all at once.

You had just kissed Miguel Diaz.

No, much worse: you had just made out with Miguel Diaz. On your bedroom floor.

Ooooooooh, no.

Your eyes went wide and you were quick to push him away, standing up.

“Are you-”

You cut him off immediately. “I’ll be right back."

“But-”

“I’ll be right back!” You repeated yourself. “You can go uh- looking for your socks or whatever if you want.”

“Are you serious-” you made your way out of the bedroom, straight into the first room you took sight off- the bathroom. You made sure to lock the door before you sat on the floor, back pressed to the wall.

Okay, so that just happened. You just kissed Miguel Diaz. No, actually, you just kissed Miguel Diaz back. He kissed you. But then again you kissed back. But he kissed you first, which means he was attracted to you? Did that mean you were attracted to him? No, you- okay, maybe.

Shit, shit, shit.

You pulled out your phone, scrambling to find Aisha’s contact. You hesitated before sending anything, knowing she'd tease you about this until the end of time , but Miguel was right outside and you had no idea how to face him after this. Holding your breath, you pressed send.

y/n

i did something

She took a minute to reply, and you jumped when you heard the sound of the notification.

aisha

okay should i be worried

y/n

um depends

aisha

okay im definitely worried did you actually kill him

y/n

aisha

then what did you do did you kick him out?

y/n

also no

aisha

girl just fucking say it!!!! i dont have time for this

y/n

okay but you cant say i told you so

aisha

youre definitely worrying me

y/n

he migthve kissed me

aisha

IM SORRY WHAT WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE KISSED YOU WHAT WHAT DID YOU DO????

y/n

i,,, might have kissed him back

and we mightve made out like a little bit

aisha

YOU DID NOT ARE YOU JOKING? ILL LITERALLY MURDER YOU IF YOU ARE

y/n

why would i joke about that?????????? you think i wanted this to happen???

aisha

well clearly you did????

y/n

no!!!!!

aisha

why would you have kissed back then?????

y/n

i dont know!!!!!! reflex?????

aisha

yeah right

was it reflex to KEEP kissing him back????

im gonna call you

y/n

no hes still here!!!!!!

Your phone rang, and you were quick to decline.

y/n

hes still here! hes gonna hear us!!!

aisha

omfg what are you gonna do

y/n

die maybe?

aisha

i knew you were into him

y/n

i am not!!!! into him!!!!!! HE kissed ME!!!

aisha

and you kissed back!!!!

y/n

that doesn’t mean anything!!!!

aisha

yes it does???????

“Y/n?”

Fuck. He was right outside the bathroom door.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m great Diaz. Go look for your socks.”

“Yeah um- I found them.”

“Cool.”

“Hey it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you shouldn't have.”

“I mean you… kind of did kiss back.”

Silence. What could you reply to that?

“Can we not? Talk about it.”

“Uh. Fine?"

“Okay. I’m coming out then. And we can finish the movie.”

“Sure. The sky’s clearing up too so.”

“Okay.”

You unlocked the door, inhaling deeply before opening it.

[. . .]

“Why did I let you do this? This is weird!” You whispered to Aisha, making sure the others didn't hear you. You'd let her convince you to sit with her friends from Cobra Kai during lunch, claiming it was the best way for you to seem ‘chill’ about what had happened. You were immediately regretting it.

You’d agreed not to talk about what happened at your place the night before, but things were still pretty awkward with Miguel, and it was really, really visible. Hawk had been stealing small glances at you, then immediately averting his eyes to Miguel, and so you were sure Miguel had told him all about it. Sure, you'd told Aisha too, but whatever.

He was probably bragging about it or something, in typical fuckboy fashion. Or something.

“It’s literally fine! You’re seeing things.”

“I’m not seeing things! It’s literally so awkward!”

“You can't avoid him forever!”

“I don't have to sit with him at lunch either!”

[. . .]

You’d almost considered yourself lucky for not having had to see Miguel in any other instance during the rest of the day, even congratulating yourself on managing to avoid him when he, of course, approached you at the exit.

“Y/n!”

You stopped, sighing in defeat. “Yes?”

“Are we cool?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean it seems like you’re acting weird, I don't know.”

“Does it really matter to you? We're not friends, so.”

“Okay. But we- was it that bad?”

“What?”

“That I kissed you, are you that mad about it?”

Your eyes widened and you looked around, trying to see if anyone around you heard him. “I told you I didn’t wanna talk about that!”

“Well let’s just solve it so we don’t have to! I thought you wanted it too. I mean it- it seemed like you did at the moment but now I don’t know and I’m really sorry if-“

“Look I don’t know what happened okay? You don’t have to feel bad about it or anything, you didn’t read it wrong. But it was a one time thing. It I’m trying to be more friendly with you guys because of Aisha, but there’s nothing more to it. It was just a heat of the moment thing.” You turned around, already starting to walk before he had the chance to talk more.

Of course he still yelled after you. “You should go see us today!”

Okay, big change of subject. “What?”

“At the dojo. We have practice at five.”

You were the one to not get the time to say anything back this time, him hopping on his bike and getting on his way.

Well, should you?

[. . .]

“This is stupid.”

“You’re just watching!” Aisha said, trying to cheer you up. “I can’t believe I couldn’t get you to come see me but Miguel could.”

“That’s not what’s going on.”

“Right.”

“It’s not! Did I not sit with your friends at lunch today? I’m making an effort. For you.”

“And only for me.” She didn't sound like she believed it at all.

“Only for you.”

She let out a laugh, and you elbowed her arm. You got to the place, entering the door, which made a bell sound out. You couldn't help but notice the ridiculous amount of snake drawings, which was apparently the dojo’s logo, that were scattered on the walls. Despite that, the place looked decent.

You caught sight of writing on one of the walls.

“That like your mantra?”

Strike first. Strike Hard. No mercy. Very inviting.

“Something like that.”

“Not violent at all,” you pointed out.

“What's the point of karate if it’s not violent?”

“Isn't that LaRusso's whole thing? Non- violent karate?”

“Well he’s stupid, so that fits.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna-”

“QUIET!” A man you hadn’t seen walk in shouted, startling you and all the students.

“Ms. Robinson, who are we missing?”

Aisha looked around. “Hawk and Miguel, sensei.”

“Okay. They have three minutes.” He seemed to finally take notice of you. “New student?”

“Y/N’s my friend, sensei-” did they have to refer to him as sensei in every single sentence?

“Yeah I'm just here to watch-”

“What are you, a pussy?”

“Sensei!”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, dumbfounded. Okay, what was happening?

“Don’t think you can handle one class?”

“I don’t-”

“If you’re staying in my dojo, you’re participating.”

You looked at Aisha. “I mean it can’t hurt,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you kidding me-” At that very moment you heard the bell again, turning around to see who it was. Of course the timing was immaculate. Hawk and Miguel entered the dojo, taking their shoes off and stepping into the mat. You turned back around to face Aisha. “Do I have to take my shoes off?”

“Yeah.”

You did it quickly, before getting back to your place. Were you really about to do this? And what for? Because you couldn’t say no to a scary old man?

Because you couldn’t say no to…

Nevermind.

“Alright quiet! Fighting positions!”

Everything was happening way too fast, and you tried to keep up, trying to remember the stance Miguel had helped you with the night before. Sensei walked through the rows of kids, all dressed in those weird clothes except for you, which naturally drove his attention to you, to which he laughed. “Yeah do that and you'll leave a fight with two broken thumbs.” Right.

Just to prove your luck, Sensei Lawrence had a fantastic idea. “Diaz, you’re in charge of teaching her the first moves. I’m teaching these nerds here how to headbutt. Again.”

“Yes, sensei!”

You were accepting it, the Universe had to be having the time of its infinite life at your expense. Miguel walked up to you, sporting a smirk. “You came.”

“Because Aisha asked me to.”

“Right. Of course.” You both walked off to the side of the mat, as to not disturb the rest of the class. “Alright, fighting stance.”

You made sure to make a face before you did as he said, remembering to leave your thumbs out of your fists this time. You were not giving him the satisfaction of correcting you about that again.

“Okay, that’s good. But you gotta-” he pushed your feet further behind with his own. “Okay. Now the most simple punches you’re gonna do are the jab and the cross. You’re gonna do the jab like this-” he showed it, punching the air with his left hand, “and the cross is gonna go like this,” he did the same, with his right hand this time. “But you’re gonna punch this,” he motioned to the punching bag in front of you.

“Oh, I kinda hoped I'd get to punch you!”

He smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time for that.” He positioned himself behind the punching bag, holding it in place.

"Do I have to do the weird grunt noises too?" You messed with him.

“Just go.”

You tried you best, not really having any idea what to do.

“Okay stop.”

“What?”

He came up beside you. “Okay pay attention.” He did the movements, slowly this time. “You’re letting your hand punch down. It’s supposed to stay just in your eyesight.”

“So like this?” You tried it.

“Yeah but don’t bend your elbow. You could sprain it that way.”

“What? I don’t-”

“And you really thought you could take me?”

“Shut up. I could report you to your sensei, you know.”

“I’m the sensei right now.”

“In your dreams.”

“Come on, you can do it.” He took you by surprise as he placed a hand on your waist, pressuring it down so your legs would stay steady, and grabbed your right hand with the other one. You tried not to think too hard about it. It was a little hard focusing on what he wanted to teach you when you knew what it was like to- no. No wandering there.

He curled your fingers into a fist. “Okay so your hand will already be in a fist, right here, and then what you’re gonna do is hold it out in a straight line, you can’t let it fall down-”

[. . .]

“You can admit it, you know?”

“Admit what?”

“You liked it.”

“What?”

“Karate.” Oh. Right. Karate.

“I would never.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay. Fine. A little. But I think it definitely would have been better if I had a better teacher.”

“A better sensei, you mean,” he pressed you about it, earning an eye-roll from you.

“Whatever.”

“Are you gonna keep doing it?”

“What?”

“Are you like enrolling?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

“Cool.”

“Why, do you wanna see me that bad?”

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, whatever you say."

[. . .]

A couple weeks had gone by, and you had agreed to go to the movies with Aisha and her friends- well, you guessed now they were your friends too. The two of you were the first to get there, and were standing in line to get popcorn when Hawk and Miguel walked up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming,” Miguel pointed out.

“Do you not have other friends you can talk to?”

“You act like you were forced to be here.”

“I could have been!”

“I don’t think you were.”

You didn’t have a snarky reply to that.

“So sensei was talking to me about putting you in for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah cause you missed on tuesday?”

“Oh right! Stupid project.”

“Yeah. Well apparently he has stuff to do so he asked if I could help you out.”

You laughed in an exaggerated manner. “Oh there’s no way.”

“It was sensei’s idea!” Miguel defended himself.

“And it’s a bad one! No way.”

Aisha turned to you, handing you a huge popcorn for you to hold. She then handed Miguel two cups, and all of you went on your way.

“Look the dojo’s empty at three. You should be there then.” He walked past you and sat down next to Hawk.

[. . .]

“You showed up!”

“Yeah whatever.” You put your backpack down on the floor and took your shoes off, walking into the mat.

“You’re not wearing your gi,” he pointed out just to mess with you.

“You’re not wearing yours.”

“But I’m the sensei today.”

“Yeah you don’t look very sensei-like to me.”

“What would look sensei-like to you?” He got himself in fighting position as he talked, and you made sure to do the same.

“I don’t know. A little buffer, less of a pussy,” you teased him.

“Hey watch your words! We’re serious people in this dojo!” He laughed. “Alright left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross and hook, all of them three times. You ready?”

You tried to make sure you remembered the order correctly. “Is the hook before of after the cross?”

“After.”

“Right, so left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.”

“Yeah. Now go.” You did it. “Okay good! Is someone… enjoying karate?”

“Shut up.”

He smiled. “Alright I’m gonna block you this time.”

You repeated the sequence. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook. Left front kick, right round kick, jab, cross, hook.

Left front kick, right round kick, jab, mat.

Mat?

“That’s not fair you were just gonna block!” You exclaimed after processing the fact that he’d just tackled you to the floor.

“You forgot to keep your guard up.”

“Whatever.” You began standing up.

“What, can’t take it?”

“Is little Miguel Diaz being mean to someone?”

“I’m just pointing out your weaknesses so you can work on them.”

“Because you’re just perfect, aren't you?”

“Do me then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I-” he closed his eyes shut and pursed his lips together at the poor choice of words. “Do the same thing to me.”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to think you’re like into pain or something.”

“Yeah whatever you say. Come on.”

He did the sequence this time, and you blocked the movements, waiting for the chance to catch him by surprise. You did it while he was going for it the second time around, grabbing him by the wrist and attempting to pull it down, but he was quicker.

Best fighter in the Valley, after all.

In no time you were on the ground again. Fucker.

“I told you! It’s good practice though.” He was laughing at you, and held out his hand for you to take when he noticed you weren’t standing up.

You grinned. “Do you never learn?” You did the same as you'd done that one day at your house, pulling him to the floor next to you.

“Okay that was rude!”

“You practically asked for it!” You laughed like crazy as you stood up. “I can’t believe you fell for that twice!”

“Okay, fine.” He held his hand up again. “You not gonna help me?”

“Nope. I, for one, am not dumb.”

He got up. “Oh you’re gonna regret that.”

[. . .]

"Hey are you- are you doing something right now?" Miguel questioned you as he finshed turning the lights off.

"Not really. Why?"

"Do you... want to?"

"Like right now?"

"I mean I think we could both use a shower first but- later?"

"Why?"

"I'm just bored. You don't have to."

You pondered it. Aisha did have to bail on you to go to dinner with her dad. "Fine."

"What- okay."

You laughed as he finished locking the door of the dojo. "What?"

"Didn’t think you’d say yes."

"I can still change my mind."

"Yeah right. You like hanging out with me!"

"Hey don’t get too confident, I just don’t have anything else to do."

"And I don't believe you. Golf ‘n’ Stuf. In like an hour?"

"I don’t know. I might not show up," you teased.

"Yeah I'll see you there!" He yelled, content, already ahead of you on his bike.

[. . .]

“I knew it.”

You turned around where you stood, only to see Miguel behind you, a grin on his face. “You’re annoying. I’ve told you that before, right?”

“Yeah. Many times.”

“Just checking.”

“So?” Miguel held up his arm for you to lace your own with. As if. You scoffed, walking past him, leaving him to jog after you into the park.

“Okay what first?”

“Oh you’re letting me pick?” He asked you. Okay, you had to give it to him, he wasn’t as insufferable when he matched your sarcastic attitude a little bit. Or maybe he was more insufferable and you just liked to see him not be as nice.

“Yes I’m very polite.”

“Well then we’re doing mini golf.”

“Are you forty-five?”

“This place literally has golf in the name, what did you expect?” He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you along.

[. . .]

“Okay I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many tickets in my entire life,” Miguel exclaimed, holding up what looked like at least 80 tickets, all bunched up. You studied the excitement on his face. Fine, so maybe you had a little fun. Just a little. And maybe you thought he looked stupidly cute right now.

Maybe.

You walked up to the counter. He looked at your prize options. “So what do you want? We can get like 53 rings or like 72 plastic… babies? Why would anyone want 72 plastic babies?”

You let out a laugh. “I don’t know, I-” you saw it by the corner, almost hidden. It was perfect. “Ohmygod definitely that guy!” You pointed at it, and the woman behind the counter handed it to Miguel.

He held up the plush bumblebee. “He’s cute! What should we name him?”

“Um… Phillip?”

“What no! That’s so not a bee name.”

“What the hell would a bee name be?”

“Zoe?”

“Okay first off that’s so cliche. Second off, he’s a boy!”

“How would you know that?” You’d been walking for a while, and finally got outside, sitting down on a bench.

“I decided it!”

“Okay. What can we name him then?”

“Oh my God, Lucas!”

“Okay, I think I can accept Lucas.”

“You don’t have a say on my son’s name!”

“Hey he’s our son!”

“I don’t know, we’d have to take a DNA test.”

“Shit have you been cheating on me?”

“Yeah I’m sorry…” you tried to match his playfulness.

There was silence for a moment.

“You know this was actually pretty fun.”

“Yeah I was surprised.” You were teasing, but it wasn’t a lie, either.

“So you liked it? Who knew.”

“Oh shut it. It was okay.”

“You totally did!”

“Okay, whatever. Now we need to discuss Lucas’ custody situation. I’m getting dibs on weekends!” You tried to joke, but Miguel’s mind seemed to be wandering off. “Miguel? Hello?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just- can I tell you something?”

“Okay.”

“I have a theory. You can say I’m wrong. But you can’t get mad at me about it.”

“Okay I’m getting worried.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Well I’ve thought about it, and I might be being a little hopeful. But I’m pretty sure you might have a crush on me.”

You laughed in disbelief. Did he really just say that to you? “I’m sorry?”

“It’s just a theory! I want you to! I’m- am I wrong?”

You didn’t reply. Because you didn’t know the answer. Did you- wait. “You want me to?”

“I- mean I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but. It would be nice. And I know you still don’t like to talk about that one time we kissed and all but things have been pretty confusing.”

“Because you have a thing for me.”

“Okay, I get it, it's fine if you don’t-”

Maybe it was not exactly the brightest idea to do something so important so suddenly, without sparing a thought before you did. But, when you knew it, your lips were on his.

It was calmer, softer than the first time you’d done it. Miguel was the one to pull away, smiling into the kiss. He stared at you, and you were nervous. You wanted to tell yourself you didn’t know where that came from, like you’d told yourself had happened that day at your place before attempting to bottle it up. But you knew.

You didn’t realize it, but in those weeks you hung out, you got to actually know him. And at some point you must have started liking him. A few weeks was definitely enough to change your perspective on some things.

You assumed he felt the same, considering the things he said.

… but maybe you read him wrong?

“What?” You asked, insecure, when he didn’t say anything.

He grinned. “You totally have a crush on me!”

You let out a breath in relief.

Okay, yeah, maybe Miguel Diaz wasn’t that bad after all. And maybe you could get yourself used to the thought of going out with him.

Maybe.

[. . .]

A/N: edited the fuck outta this one before posting, my ideas were good but my writing was pretty shit at the time. I think I was like 16/17 when I wrote this one. shits crazy. luv yall

#cobra Kai #karate kid #the karate kid #Miguel Diaz #Miguel Diaz imagine #Miguel Diaz x reader #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #aisha robinson #johnny lawrence #demetri cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #mars writes

562 notes · View notes

stayconnecteed · 2 months ago

Text

🪐˓⠀˚⠀i guess i'm in love⠀@⠀kim seungmin.

this is just a cute birthday fic based on the love of my life @skzms and her seungmin's drabble 'seungmin in love', which i totally recommend before you read this. i hope you like it, may, and that i made justice to your words!! i listened to i guess i'm in love by clinton kane while writing this. the beginning of the plot is based on a personal experience! i wish it had ended that way tho askjdhkasjd

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

You had never mustered the courage to talk to a boy until university made you come out of your shell. The morning you had stepped into the lecture hall for the first time, ready to listen to the dean of your faculty give the introductory talk, you had sat alone in one of the front rows, hanging on every word, your heart racing. You didn't know anyone, and you preferred to focus on the speech, waiting for some extrovert to adopt you, rather than take the first step.

You had always been shy, and you felt a sense of panic at the thought that you might end up alone for the whole degree, but you were incapable of approaching a stranger and starting a conversation. Your fear was a prison and the guardian of an anxiety that swirled in your chest, the number one reason why you had hidden in the same table in the library during all your free hours, and also the consequence of too many bad experiences in the past.

But then you had met Seungmin.

You hadn't spoken, at least not at first. You hadn't even realised he existed. He was just another classmate in the core subjects shared by all those who studied the same course as you. He smiled softly at the jokes of the teachers he liked, became more serious in the most difficult lectures, and tried not to show his anger when the typical annoying repeat student made their trademark rancid comment. You hadn’t even known his name.

Eventually, you found yourself waiting for those little reactions. Like you, he also showed up ten minutes before the first class started, he also sat alone, and he also came to school with his headphones on, drowning out all the noise in the corridors with the playlist he had made for himself at the beginning of the course. He would arrive with his dark blue backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders, and a book in his hand ーthe same one he would read for a while before the professor arrived. You found yourself smiling as you watched him, writing down the titles of his readings, looking forward to the classes you shared with him.

And then you saw him appear for the first time in the library. You were at one of the more secluded tables, your back to the wall, your laptop a shield protecting you from the other people in the room. And he had slipped quietly in, his ears covered by the black headphones, leaving his backpack on the table in front of yours. For a moment you had stood still, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, the word on your document half-typed, your breath caught in your throat. And then you looked away, and went on with your work. It was stupid to react like that for someone you didn't know.

But the next day your little dance was repeated, sitting opposite each other, in complete silence, a calm and concentrated reflection. As if there was a mirror between the two tables. And the next day, and the next... Until it became a habit. You would leave class a little late because you knew it would take him longer to collect his belongings, and you'd follow each other's shadows with your gazes through the corridors until you reached the library. He would hold the door, and you would smile at him. And when you left him the book you'd used to find out information about a homework topic, he'd return the soft curve in his lips, showing his braces without an ounce of insecurity.

Despite all your little interactions, you hadn't really made any move. The day you realised that there was another girl waiting for him at the end of your class, a more outgoing and prettier one, the kind who always gave the right answers to the teacher. She was asking him if he could explain to her the latest topic discussed in class over a latte in the building's cafeteria. You felt like you intruded, so you left. But that had been the same day you went to the library alone, and you had to open the door for yourself. You missed his smile. And you realised that he was worth every tremor in your hands, only if it meant taking the first step with him.

The next day, you mustered the courage to talk to a boy. To that boy. You approached him before class, sitting one line forward of him, taking a deep breath of air and exhaled it as you tried to keep your nerves under control, your eyes closed. With your pulse racing you had turned, resting your fingertips on his desk, and caught his attention by waving softly. He had looked up from the intertwined sentences of his book, closing it as soon as he saw it was you addressing him, and you enjoyed a few more seconds of your bubble, his brownish gaze all over you, before bursting it.

Your words were quick and breathy, stammering over coffees and shared hours, your gaze anywhere in the class but on his face. Yet he responded calmly, a mask of stillness in contrast to the chaos of emotions spiralling inside him, and you only interrupted the conversation when the teacher began the lesson, Seungmin's gaze returning to your figure every few seconds. That was the first free hour you disrupted your way to the library and accompanied, shoulder to shoulder, your quiet classmate to the cafeteria.

You heard him order an iced americano with syrup, greeting the lady behind the counter with rehearsed confidence, and waiting, tracing his gaze across the profile of your face, for you to say what you wanted. Then he guided you to one of the tables at the back, and let you sit on the bench with its back against the wall. Almost as if, somehow, he knew that it was what you preferred. For a moment you wanted to get your hopes up, to think that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, but it didn't actually make any sense. So you sighed, and set your bag down beside you, intertwining your fingers in a nervous gesture.

You had been the one to propose the plan, and suddenly you realised that you had been so sure he would say no that you hadn't planned any further.

You wandered your gaze in silence, steadily, slowly, trying not to meet his at any point, your shyness forcing stitches of thread on your lips, unable to utter a word, until the waitress appeared with her tray and your drinks, and Seungmin's raspy ‘thank you’ broke through your bubble. You uttered your own, no sound coming out of your throat, and flashed the start of a smile when he managed to continue a conversation that hadn't existed until then, asking how you had adjusted to the lectures, to college.

And then you let loose like a torrent. The stuttering edges of your lips tightened, answering in short words how your university experience was going, daring even to lock your eyes with his when you returned the question, wanting to hear him speak. And as he told a story similar to yours, albeit with many more friends than you had, you reached your trembling hands towards your cup, taking it and sipping a small amount of coffee.

You tried not to let it show, but the bitterness was enveloping your taste buds in a flavour you were not used to. Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced, swallowing the thick liquid in one gulp, avoiding triggering your gag reflex, and you looked back at Seungmin, who was watching you with a hard stare. He tilted his head, almost like a dog would, and picked up the cup you had just set down on its plate, wetting his lips to taste it. He opened his eyes slightly, muttering a soft, “This is not what you ordered,” and got up to go reclaim it.

You felt the heat rise up your neck and settle on your cheeks, unable to believe what had just happened, and watched from your warm seat as the boy spoke to the woman he had greeted earlier, how she was surprised and certainly apologetic due to the confusion, and the whole process of making from scratch what you had ordered in the first place. It was Seungmin's gentle smile when she returned, treating the porcelain with extreme care so as not to spill the contents, that made you suppress the apology you had thought of saying. Perhaps he had decided that it was his responsibility, that the barista had mistaken the order, but he had done it because he had wanted to. You could read it on his face.

“Thank you so much,” you said, brushing his skin with your fingers as you took the new mug, closing your eyes to smell the sweet, thick hot chocolate you loved so much. “You didn't have to.”

Winter was beginning, and with it the need to drown yourself in cosy blankets, at-home plans and movie classics that had become your favourites over time. So you told Seungmin when you opened your eyes and realised that he was watching you, trying not to retreat into the shyness that had been with you for so long. You were ready to get out of your comfort bubble once and for all, and having a conversation with someone who in your thoughts was no longer a stranger seemed like the natural option.

After that, it was relatively easy. The words flowed between you, asking each other about your lives and replying with more questions, exchanging anecdotes, dropping little jokes that elicited laughter, lost in each other's gaze. As easy as breathing, the minutes passing by on the clock without even being aware of it, learning to read a new language, through what you told each other. Opinions and experiences, comments and compliments, engaged in a dance that only you knew, until the alarm on your phone started ringing, and you realised you were late.

You apologised with hurried syllables, quickly packing up, waving goodbye, heading hastily towards the counter to pay for your drink. You were surprised when the woman indicated that Seungmin had already taken care of it, and you looked back for a few seconds to give him a beaming smile. He mirrored it, leaning against the table you had been sitting at, and waved his fingers in response. It was when you got into the bus, on the way to the restaurant where you had agreed to meet your sister, that you realised you hadn't asked him for his phone number.

Apparently, you weren't the only one to think so.

The morning after your disaster of a first conversation, you arrived early. You sat in the third row, the fourth seat, just like you always did. And you doodled in your notebook, deep in thought, until you heard someone clearing their throat next to you. You looked up, smiling when Seungmin made an exaggerated gesture of wanting to sit next to you, and managed not to burst out laughing at his antics when the teacher came through the door to start the class.

And it was when you were barely able to keep your eyes open, the teacher's voice lulling you into a light sleep, that you noticed the tip of Seungmin's finger brushing your arm. You turned, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine, and instead of questioning what he wanted, you found a sheet of paper folded over the pen that had slipped from your hand. You opened it discreetly, glancing at Seungmin out of the corner of your eye, curious, and didn't bother to suppress the smile that curved your lips as you read a tight “What's your phone number?”.

You wrote it down quickly, going over each digit twice to make sure there could be no confusion, and slid it across the table for Seungmin to tuck it away. You nodded goodbye to him as the bell rang, and you had to part ways, him going to the opposite side of the corridor, to another class. You grabbed your bag, and sighed, not so keen to attend your remaining lecture. At least until at least twenty minutes into it your phone screen lit up, receiving a new notification.

Unknown number: Hey, is it true that Mr Choi’s classes are soo boring?

Unknown number: Or my contact in his classes has shamelessly lied to me?

The contact in Professor Choi's class was you, because you had complained the day before about him, and the unknown number had to be Seungmin. You put the phone under the table, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice and begin to dislike you, and typed in the answer:

You: Mmm, you shouldn’t trust your contact.

You: They wouldn’t be boring if you were here.

Seungmin 🫶🏼: Naah, I bet my classes wouldn’t be boring if my contact could attend them.

You: You can't use my sentence with me.

You: That's like cheating.

Seungmin 🫶🏼: Would it be cheating if I bribe you with a cup of hot chocolate?

You: Whatever you say, lover boy.

You tried to imagine Seungmin's reaction, your subconscious tricking you with images of him blushing in the middle of class, and left the phone in your bag. That interaction had made your day.

From then on, you could only continue to develop your friendship, intertwing yourselves like a tangled vine, unable to separate from each other. The Christmas holidays had distanced you a bit, each enjoying a few weeks of relaxation with your family, but the study period leading up to the exam season brought you back together at that table in the library, exchanging complicit glances and helping each other take breaks when the stress got too much. He was the perfect study partner, and it was reflected in your grades, none of which dropped below a C.

At the end of finals, in those days before the second semester started, Seungmin had invited you to one of the pubs his friends had shown him. He had told you that they hadn't gone because he didn't want them to say anything stupid in front of you, but you hadn't missed them. With a glass in his hand, he had followed you to the dance floor every time you had asked, neck flushed and shy eyes when he saw the alcohol had disinhibited you enough to move your hips freely. It had been a memorable night. And when it struck three in the morning, he was the one who escorted you to your flat, just to make sure you got there safely, and you were the one who begged him to stay with you.

The second semester began with many hours of late arrivals to class 一something you hated, but which was certainly more bearable in his company.

You would gather as soon as you arrived to the faculty on one of the benches by the entrance, he sitting comfortably with his ankle on his thigh, you with your knees against your chest, jumping from conversation to conversation until the bell started ringing, startling you, and you would run up the stairs together, to get to class before the teacher. You learned to cope with it because somehow the stress of being late was compensated by the way Seungmin would touch you so he wouldn't lose you in the corridors. Always behind you, like a guard dog, guiding you to your class with his hand resting on the small of your back, making sure you got in before he wandered off into the crowd in search of his own, in case you didn't share it.

And in the free hours you got to know his friends, or at least some of them. The first time was in a class that was cancelled at the last minute, on your way to the library, when you saw Seungmin's silhouette in the cafeteria, his broad shoulders framing the back of the chair. You greeted the short boy and the one with the narrow eyes with a shy smile, before asking them if they would let you sit next to Seungmin.

You had seen the knowingly smirks, and also their suspicious gazes, but they had made you feel like a long time friend of theirs, so you shaked the creepy feeling out of your body. You stayed silent most of the conversation, listening to their jokes and anecdotes, smiling upon the fact that they treated Seungmin like a brother 一teasing him to death. And from then on you always found a free seat by his side in your gatherings.

Your confidence with them, with Changbin and Jeongin, solidified at about the same time as you accepted that Seungmin just saw you as one of the group, and you tried to stop getting your hopes up. Throughout the semester, you began to participate in conversations with his friends, gaining confidence, and even participating more in class, socialising with classmates and getting to know some girls with whom you thought a friendship could develop. You noticed Seungmin was becoming a bit distant, but with your Friday movie nights and your weekly coffee (hot chocolate for you, he made sure they didn't mess it up again), you assumed he had simply decided that he had other priorities.

At least until the beginning of sophomore year, the night of Minho's birthday celebration. That october night, you had arrived late to the restaurant where the group had decided to hang out in, and the place where you normally sat, to Seungmin's right, was occupied by a freckle-faced blond you had seen around the dorm on some occasion. You greeted Seungmin with a quick kiss on the cheek, a high five with Jeongin, and went straight to the birthday boy, to congratulate him with a hug.

You had spent the whole week crocheting cute fruit-shaped hats for his cats, just because a joke you two had, and Minho's genuine reaction had been to take you in his arms and turn you around, both of you giggling. You remembered that he had told you he couldn't wait to get home to try them on his babies, and you had commented that it was a crime for him to be all lonely on the table on such a special day. With the excuse, you had sat next to each other, leaning like two old oaks so that you could hear each other over the music, your knees touching and his arm over your chair.

At one point, after all the group had gathered, when you had followed Minho's unfocused gaze at Seungmin, his eyes gave off such a hard acrimony that you thought you had done something awfully wrong.

You tried to talk to him about it the next day, when you woke up in your bed, but he wasn't by your side. Seungmin, who normally would be curled up against one of your pillows, had actually slept on the sofa instead, and when you asked him why over breakfast, you got no answer. You could see him building up anger and complex emotions inside, unable to utter a word, trying to decide what to do, before desist and wish you a good morning, leaving you on the kitchen. The absence of that trust you thought you shared broke your heart.

And yet, that very same night he showed up at the university party night that Jeongin had proposed 一Thursdays were his favourite days to go out. He appeared at the pub without even looking at you, as if it pained him to see you, deliberately sitting at the other end of the table. The second time since the two of you had met that you weren't next to each other.

At that moment you ordered the first drink. And they just kept on coming.

You tried not to care. For a few hours, you managed to make it happen. But when that boy approached you, with the soft look Seungmin always gave you, with the same wide smile he reserved for you, you decided that willing to lie to yourself, at least you should get something out of it. So when he pressed his hips to yours, you let him, and when he put his arms around your waist, you allowed it. You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing that his body didn't feel next to yours the way Seungmin's did, and as you felt him slide his hand down the back of your neck, you smiled, kissing him back just as eagerly.

But the spell melted on your fingers as you parted, and you found all the details in his face that made him so different from Seungmin. So you apologised to him, again and again as you escaped his embrace, wandering around the dance floor until you collided with Changbin. He gave you a bright smile, asking you how you were doing with Wonwoo, but the pout that formed on your lips made him react, taking you by your shoulders and interrogating you about the guy, Wonwoo, if he had crossed a line with you. All you managed to do was deny, before asking him to take you home.

It was a terrible night. For you, and for him, who nursed you back to sleep.

And it was also terrible to wake up, when you realised you were alone in your flat. Alone, tangled in your sheets, and the alarm clock ringing, reminding you that you had a schedule to follow, and you had to go to class.

Seungmin was not on your self proclaimed bench when you arrived, though you sat down to wait for him anyway. And when the bell rang you walked up the stairs, slowly, like a soul wandering the corridors of the faculty, ignoring the professor's disapproving face when you interrupted his speech by opening the door. You paid no attention to his words, sittimg down and doodling on your notebook, enduring as best you could the hour that lasted, leaving as soon as you could.

But then you saw him. With his blue backpack slung over his shoulder, and the brown sweatshirt you had stolen from him some chilly afternoons. And you made eye contact with him, but continued on your way. You couldn't face him. All you could think about was the way he had ignored you, as you heard his footsteps, and how you had kissed another boy just because it looked like him. You went down the stairs, the necessity to get out of there bubbling in your chest, wlaking through the doors of the building. You knew he was behind you, but you wanted to be able to ignore him too.

Until you heard him.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you stopped in your tracks, paralysed. He then repeated it, this time louder. “I love you, I’m so sorry but I love you.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you turned around slowly, utterly convinced that it was your imagination. But his kicked out expression was a reflection of how you felt, brows furrowed upwards, the waterline of his pretty eyes covered by a bubble of unreleased tears, tortured by his absence. And his cheeks were coloured red, flushed with the shame that let you know it was true. Still, he was looking at you with a devotion you were able to clearly see now, like you hung the stars in the sky. All you had once imagined was true, and he was there, waiting for your response.

So you approached him, a shy smile curving your lips, and rested your hands on his shoulders, nodding.

“I love you too,” you murmured, lips moving against his, his breathe hitching. And kissed him. Eyes closed, feeling a sigh slipping in between your mouths, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs while he took you by your waist. And you kept smiling, your chest exploding in relief, savouring him like it would be the last time you would see him.

“I love you too, you jerk,” your repeated, resting your forehead on his.

#﹙ ★ ﹚⠀mars⠀—⠀writes.#neverendingdreams #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin scenarios #kim seungmin fluff

279 notes · View notes