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multifandomwhore-003 · 2 years ago

Text

Coward

Pairing: Robby Keene x female! adopted! Moskowitz! reader

Summary: Honestly, just the most angsty shit I've written in a while.

Genre(s): angst,angst, and more angst.

Warning(s): I'm only following the show's timeline from season 1 to the first half of season 4. They're Taylor Swift/Billie Eilish/other depressing artists coded, more specifically "No time to die", "My tears ricochet", "I love you", "The Archer", "Afterglow", "Line without a hook", "All too well" "That way", "You broke me first", "The Great war", and the list goes on and on so just pick your poison.

Taglist: @rafecameronswhore @barbiekatz @l-o-v-r-s @kaitieskidmore1 @rosepetalsparks join taglist here

A/N: QUICK DISCLAIMERS, I made the reader adopted bc clearly Eli's/Hawk's family is white so this way the reader can be a poc if that's the case, I started this back when S4 came out and just finished it... what does that say about me? Idk. ALSO, Robby's S4 era will always be superior, Robby from S4 you will always be famous, he was unhinged, hot, a menace, and iconic, in this essay I will-

Gif credits to whom they belong

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚗

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CAN NOT USE MY WORK

Reblog if you like

The All Valley's karate rivalry was as old as time, as strong as god's will, and in your opinion, as stupid as it sounds; not to everyone though, especially your brother, the great and mighty Hawk who loved to parade around the city with his new look that carried every piece of confidence he had, unfortunately, now that it was taken away from him, he felt worthless.

You never had a thing against any of the participating parties in this ridiculous dispute, you didn't mess with them, and they didn't mess with you, but you had a limit whenever they attacked your brother, a tiny fine line that went from 'superficial wounds' to 'profound damage' and they crossed it. More like, Robby 'cute face' Keene, crossed it. Even though there was a 98% chance that your brother had brought this on himself, he was still your brother and you'd do anything for your family.

You pushed the glass doors storming into the empty section of the building and hearing them slightly vibrate behind you, "Keene," your voice was stern, no response, "Keene!"

"Back here!" He yelled from the back room.

The stride of your heels resounded in every corner of the concrete, a strong, dominant, and potent tone that could easily make anyone even slightly fearful. And Robby Keene wasn't the exception, no matter how many times Sensei Reese and Sensei Silver prepared him to be a champion, no matter how many hours he had proven to be Cobra Kai's worthiest inheritor, no matter how much muscle mass he gained by the minute, no matter how many days he spent in prison, no matter how many people he'd fought, no matter how many kids in the valley were scared of him, everyone has a weakness, and you were one of his.

There wasn't something in this world he could hate more than that because it didn't make sense, it didn't make any fucking sense for you of all people to hold so much power over him after everything that happened, there was an evident reason behind esteeming the adults around him, some of the other students even, but you? What else were you if not a lovely face? The most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, he knew the answer, a little too well for his liking, and as much as he hated it, the fact that you were so out of reach made him want you more.

But he pretended, okay? Oh, he loved, adored even, to act all tough and cocky around you as if you couldn't break his entire facade into little pieces if you so much as softened your features for him, a minimal act he thought he'd never see again, and still, he'd imagined it, he'd daydream about it almost every time you were near him, which with the new tournament coming up, seeing you became more and more recurrent, and so, it didn't get easier to hate you, in fact, the more he saw you, the harder it got.

If and only if you were held at gunpoint, you'd admit that the boy was attractive, pretty even, mostly because you would be sentenced to death by your family or hanged for treason by your brother's friends, but also because confessing to like him meant confessing you liked the guy who for better or for worse, ended up in juvie, and it was something that you didn't wanna be linked with.

You didn't have to say it to know that after all, you were still genuinely captivated by his physique and attitude, the way he carried himself everywhere he went, his ability to make himself seen without saying a word, how he wasn't easy to overlook; maybe it was just you who noticed his presence so intensely, perhaps you convinced yourself the rest of the world did as well just so you wouldn't feel so pathetic by the fact that you couldn't ignore him. And in the attempt to make your life easier and 'problem-free' by neglecting your feelings, it backfired by raising the complicity lever of your desires.

"What can I do for you, Princess?" he didn’t bother to turn around perhaps you’d go quickly so he didn’t have to train his self-control, not again.

If you were in a different mood, you would've rolled your eyes at the little nickname you despised so much, he gave it to you not only to point out that your economical status was clearly higher than his, but also to remind the 10-month-old age gap between you and your brother, a small amount of time that doomed your life to always be put under him, to your family, he was going to grow to be a King, the one who was gonna inherit every important part of their heritage, and you were stuck to be only that, a Princess.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put your ass back in jail?" You fumed, irritation blurring out your judgment.

"Because legally, I did nothing wrong, and even if I did, you have no proof of it," he grinned.

"Then explain to me what the hell is wrong with you?!” you spun him by his shoulder, “You really thought you could just casually shame my brother by cutting his hair and I wouldn't come here to defend him?!"

"You mean the same hair that made him think he could be a bully?" he remained calm.

"You know damn well I never agreed with that," you spat, "Do I need to remind you he was suspended for a week because I went to the principal? And regardless of that, you wanna complain about him making others feel less with violence while you do the same?" you scoffed, "Wow," you stated with sarcasm.

"It's hair, it'll grow back,"

"You humiliated him! You made him nothing! Not to mention you used a barber's blade, idiot, did you think about how fucking dangerous that was? You could've seriously injured him if he made the wrong move!"

"I warned him, good thing he knows how to listen, he’s not as stupid as he looks," he taunted you more.

You shook your head, "You're gonna listen to me Keene, and you're gonna listen to me very carefully," you got close to him, "If you even so much as breathe in his direction before the tournament, I will end you,"

He chuckled, "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"No, only cowards like you and your minions make threats, mine is a promise,"

"I'm not a coward," he clenched his jaw holding back the increasing anger.

You laughed, and somehow said more than words could.

"Says the one who came here when it was all alone knowing that if it wasn't, you would've gotten your ass beaten,"

"By who? Your little friend who's on probation?” you tilted your head with an arrogant smirk, “No, you see, I came here at this time because I'm smart, I mean let's be honest, you've never done anything to hurt me and you never will, because… well," you raised your shoulders feeding the fire in his eyes.

"So what? Do you want me to hurt you to prove that I'm not?" he towered over you.

You nodded, "Yes," you took another step towards him, "But then again, you don't want me to win, do you? Because if you hurt me, then that means you care about what I think,” your voice got slower, “and what would that say about you? True winners don't have to prove anything to anyone but themselves, that's the difference between all of you and me," you separated from him slightly, "But go ahead, make my day and land the first punch,"

He froze in his place processing your words and just barely he noticed he missed your closeness, he couldn't bring himself to do so, pushing down the consuming rage that, later on, would show up stronger when Silver and Kreese find out about this encounter.

"That's what I thought," you scrunched your nose, "You karate nerds are so stupid, who needs to get physical when you have words?" you told more to yourself, and right when you were about to make, what you considered, a triumphal exit, your arm got yanked, your chest hit him, and your faces were less than an inch away, "What are you doing?" you whispered.

The vulnerability of your words and the fragility of your look melted him, for a split second he lost track of his purpose, but it wasn't until he remembered your words that he snapped out of the trance, "Hurting you," he whispered back before placing your lips on his.

It didn't take long for his action to hitch your respiration, stun your nerves, fill your veins with adrenaline, whisk your logic, and for you to correspond. It was embarrassingly quick if to be completely honest, but it didn't matter, frankly, you were so unashamed of it that your hands slipped behind his neck pushing the two of you impossibly closer. It was hungry, desperate, and frantic; you finally understood Adam and Eve no matter how much you hated religion, finally comprehended the temptation of the forbidden fruit, sweet, delicious, and addictive.

Instinctively, he gently pushed you against the nearest wall and you felt his fingers getting lost in your hair, "I don't need to use a lot of strength to hurt you," he pulled you away trying to recover his breath, "I'm gonna hurt your pride by making you moan my name,"

"Easy there, snake boy," you managed to gasp out as you trailed your fingertips fastidiously along his jawline whilst slightly lifting his chin, "What makes you think you won't moan mine," you weren't ready to let your guard down, not yet, you then switched positions holding his shoulders against the cement. In an act of pure selfishness, you softly cupped his face somewhat catching him off guard, his nose brushed yours as your top lip created contact that was so minimal it could almost be imperceptible, "Nice try, Keene, but unfortunately for you, I don't fuck losers," you mumbled, although you could've said it in a more impactful tone, you knew, you knew that the intimacy of it all would make your words burn into the very depths of his soul.

You walked out of the Dojo quite easily with him as perplexed as a Marmol statue, the catch was having to drive around the city to cool off your system and release the tension of it all. However, it didn't work, not even a little bit, not even at all, your mind played every different scenario of the continuation of your reckless actions, it was your fault, and you had to accept it, you went to face him knowing damn well how you felt for him, you went knowing damn well he wouldn't just back down easily, knowing he would've put up a fight one way or another, you knew deep inside you, you knew this could happen, you wanted it to happen.

It was inevitable, your brother was just the perfect excuse and you used it, you took advantage of it, you abused it even, he begged you not to do anything and you didn't care enough to listen, you just had to see him, you had to confront him after almost a year of holding back.

You met him while he was still working for the LaRussos, Daniel and your mom had known each other since college, so whenever they began a conversation, no one could stop them or be part of it; on that occasion, you two were invited for dinner, you brother naturally skipped it, but you were forced to go. You couldn't really complain, Sam was nice company at times, and you would mostly gossip about school or complain about teachers, nothing too deep; however, it even amazed you how rapidly you connected with Robby. Was your entire conversation from that night centered on making fun of the adults? Yeah, but you couldn't stop cackling the entire time. After that, whenever you saw each other you two resumed that same chemistry, constantly coming up with inside jokes or witty comments regarding your family, friends, possible love interests, etc. It then patiently evolved into a solid friendship by revealing heavy details of both of your lives; other types of sentiments involved or not, there was a time when all you had was each other.

But the school fight changed everything, Hawk had a personal vendetta against the person who put one of his best friends in a coma, and you... you were scared, not furious, not bitter, just terrified. Of him, your brother and his friends, Sam, everyone that had to go through the aftermath of it all; you burned all of those bridges, gasoline and everything, changed schools in a different part of town, shut down that part of your life. You couldn't afford to give your family another reason to put you under.

"Y/N, could you stop procrastinating and do something productive?” your mother interrupted your thinkings, “I gotta take this call, take care of them for a minute," she pointed at the waiters.

"Oh, yeah, sure, I- I'll watch them," you answered.

She stepped away.

You huffed scanning the restaurant your family proudly called theirs, it was a second home, warm, comfy, filled with known people, and although you couldn’t make sense of it, you’d always perceived the hazy calmness through the chaos.

There was something hardly recognizable besides the door, at first glance your eyes overlooked it, but as you double-checked your body tensed and your eyes widened so much you were sure they were gonna pop out, he was here.

The last time he showed up at the business was the night before the incident, your parents had conveniently gone to a business dinner and your brother had no intentions on getting out of the house with his hangover, and like every other time he'd been there, you two would steal food from the kitchen, go up to the rooftop and talk about nothing and everything.

Flashback

"And now Mr. LaRusso doesn't wanna have anything to do with me," his voice weakened.

"Oh my god, Robby," you wasted no time in hugging him tightly, "I'm sorry,"

He nuzzled in the crook of your neck sparking something in your gut, you never failed to react to the crumbs of intimacy you always had. His eyes began to water, tears falling into your shirt.

"It's okay, it's okay," you comforted him, both of your torsos gently swinging.

"It hurts so much," he sniffled, "Why does it hurt so much?" it might've sounded a little too melodramatic, perhaps absurd, but he wasn't afraid to be like that, vulnerable, not with you, you never gave him a reason to be.

You pursed your lips, your throat was dry, you were speechless although you'd never been the quiet type, and all you could do was hold him even tighter, a subtle yet relevant symbolism that reminded you that was the closest you could get.

"Why does everyone always leave?" he let the question settle into the breeze although it felt more personal.

It broke you to see him like this, no pain you've ever felt was comparable to seeing he whom you love miserable, there was nothing else you could do but be there, though you didn't think it was nearly as enough as what he needed, "I- I don't know," you couldn't tell if you were lucky to have never experienced such experience, or misfortunate to not have said wisdom to heal him. You cautiously cupped his face, as if one of your movements could hurt him more, he was like stained glass, complicated, fractured, fragile, and yet, his cracks and colors made him the most beautiful soul you’ve ever met "I won't leave you," you ran your thumbs through his cheeks, drying the small showings of his pain.

"You promise?"

"I promise,"

End of flashback

You tried not to draw too much attention to yourself while jogging towards the entrance, "What the hell are you doing here?" you blurted out.

"I wanna talk to you," he seemed happy, probably because of how fearful you, on the other hand, were.

"You- you can't be here right now, I'm not messin' around," you shook your head, you had to react as discreetly as possible.

"Why? Your brother isn't here,"

"It's not just my brother, okay? My family will kill you on sight, please, listen to me," you grabbed his shoulders, "We can't talk, not here,"

"Where then?"

"I-" you looked around making sure your mom was still in her office, "Do we really have to do this right now?" you insisted.

"Yes," he stated firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Okay, come on," you pulled his hand with a strength that wasn't necessary.

You entered the tiny meetings room on the other side of the establishment, because of your dad's usual tantrums, it didn't have a camera and it was sound-proofed; you made sure to lock the door and turn off the light so it wouldn't be visible from the bottom of the wood.

"Okay, make it quick, I need to get back to my mom," your words were rushed and stumbling with each other.

"You truly are terrified of your parents aren't you?" he crossed his arms.

"I don't have time for this Robby-"

"Thought I was 'Keene',"

You only began to call him that after in consequence of the Karate outrage, his first name felt too personal, too close.

You shut your eyes in frustration, "Can you stop being an ass for a second and get to the point of whatever it is that you wanna talk about?"

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?" he continued to tease, truth is, he wasn't sure what he was doing there in the first place, all he knew was that here he was, with you.

"It doesn't matter, just- start talking," you pressured.

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?" he repeated.

Your fingers twitched, a manner you developed out of stress, "Because if they see me with you, I'll never hear the end of it, okay?" you fidgeted then with your jewelry.

"If you never wanna be caught in a lie I suggest you stop doing the ring thing," he pointed out, "It makes it easy to tell,"

You halted the action and then shrugged.

"Why are you so nervous about me being here?"

"Because they already filed a restraining order against you, I guess you didn't get it because you're here, but if they call the cops you'll probably end up in juvie and I don't want- If you ever wanna go back to school or get a job is gonna be incredibly difficult,"

He assumed at first you didn't wanna be seen with him because of how much you cared about the reputation of your new life, a valid perspective given how much you made an effort to conceal it all, but hearing you enlightened him, sore him "Don't look at me like that," a small part of his grudge came out.

"Like what?"

"Like you still care about me,"

A choked laugh resounded from your part, "First of all, I'm not apologizing for that, and second-"

"You should," his demeanor abruptly became more defensive.

You tilted your head, "Why?" your energy matched his.

"Because you don't care about me, and acting like you do is very hypocritical of you,"

"When have I ever told you that I don't care about you?" you frowned.

"You don't have to say it, you already proved it,"

"How so?"

"Don't play the innocent part now," he was close to losing his cool, "You try so hard to hide everything that happened but at even the slightest inconvenience, you go right back where you started, tell me, do your mommy and daddy know you went to see me two days ago? Huh? Or let me guess, you were too scared to tell them?"

"Oh, fuck off Keene, is that all you got? Is that the only thing that you think will affect me? My parents? My reputation?"

"Yes! Because that's the only thing you care about! You're nothing but a self-centered spoiled brat that doesn't know any better than to run away from her problems! You wanna know who the real coward is here? You are! Some of us don't have the privilege of a new start! Keep pretending all you want, but don't forget, I was your friend and you turned your back on me, I wasted my one phone call on you because you were the only person I had, and you hung up on me like I was nothing! Tell me, how am I supposed to be the coward if I'm the one who got hurt because of your selfishness?! You don't care about anyone but yourself!" as much as he attempted to divert the subject of the conversation, his eyes sabotaged him, quickly covering his face in a salty heartbreaking liquid. "You... you weren't there-"

You were both stunned by his reaction, you'd think that with everything he's been put through, he wouldn’t snap so easily, so passionately, so emotionally, but no, all of this was a new part of himself that only you made him feel, he’d only allowed you to do so.

"I needed you! I needed you! And you weren't there! And- and then the first time you say anything to me after I got out-"

If there's something he had while being in juvie was time, precious time he'd spent weaving, machinating; about you, about his dad, about the LaRusso's, about Miguel, about him. Strategizing his next encounter with the world was arduous, but the action of going through with it was the true challenge, and he realized how useless all that time truly was when he heard your voice the first time, suddenly all of it was gone, the effort, the time, the sleepless nights, the daydreaming noons, all of it, turned into nothing, you turned them into nothing.

"I was happy," he exhaled like freeing himself of chains and shackles, "I was so happy, and I enjoyed seeing you mad so fucking much, seeing you in general," he laughed, "I tried to-" he choked on his words, "I tried to hate you so much because you bailed on me but I can't," every inch him began to feel... lighter, "I can't hate you," he sighed, "I- I just can’t,”

Your body didn’t allow you to move, roughly grounding you, vines of regret holding you hostage against soothing him, stopping him, following him outside, responding coherently to your family’s screams, to forget. You’d lost count of how many days you’d feel as you were still glued to the wooden floor, completely stuck, dried-out blossoms of hope from your heart, rageful deep thorns clinging to your debilitated frame, daunting poison sinking your head.

—How many times?—

How many times would you have to come up with every pretentious and overly-thought narrative to justify everything? You’ve been silenced by your reluctance, aghast by your idealization, confined by your denial, triggered by tension, frozen by your guilt, and finally steered by resentment.

You stared at the faint reflection from the glass, you wanted to immortalize the picture, hair slightly out of place, tugged at clothes, blood burst out of the skin, purple underneath the large organ, nostrils flowing with the lack of air, mouth agape.

—Why?—

You prepared yourself for the question before anyone else asked it.

—Why was protecting Robby’s honor against someone as irrelevant as Natalie Dalmasos worth it?—

You noticed your knuckles finally matching your brother’s.

—He’s never even met her—

Your stomach sunk as if releasing all the ire and digesting it as dread.

—Was it worth it?—

Hammering head.

—Did she deserve it?—

Striking heart.

—You screwed up everything you built—

Trembling legs.

—What did you do?—

Numbed face.

—Why destroy it?—

Streaking neck.

—Why him?—

Overwhelmed.

Then reality came back.

—Shit—

You reached for your phone, quickly texting your mother the first perfectly constructed lie you could think of, you had to disappear at least for tonight, eventually relieved by her believing your sleepover story, you started the car.

—Where else would you go?—

You blankly saw the infamous logo, the white clearness hiding the inside, you took a shaky breath and struggled to get yourself inside the walls, you didn’t have to make yourself known by words, the heavy door did all the work filling it with creaks against the floor for it being poorly moved.

You saw him cautiously walk out of the dark.

“Robby,” you let out a soft smile.

He frowned as you gradually got nearer.

“I- I um-” you gulped, “I just got into a fight, the party- I-,” there was now a lightbulb over your head.

He rushed, “Y/N, holy shit,”

“I- I’m fine, I swear,” you chuckled.

“Fine?! You look like shit!”

“You should see the other guy,” you joked

He shrugged, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I’m just-,”

“Shocked?” you interrupted him, “Surprised? Amazed? Astonished? Stunned? fucking… every other synonym there is?”

He nodded still scanning your body, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he placed one of your arms on his shoulder to then swiftly carry you bridal style to his mattress. You tilted your head observing the side of his jaw.

“I never noticed you had a scar there,” you whispered.

“One of many of my mom’s bad boyfriends,”

“I’m sorry,” you delicately traced it.

He smiled, “It’s okay,”

You were laid down rather dramatically, or so you thought by the way he treated you like you were made out of paper, you just rolled your eyes and sat up while he went to get the first aid kit.

“This is gonna hurt,” he wet the cotton.

You scoffed, “Relax Robby, I’m a big girl, this isn’t my first drill,”

“Right,” he nodded.

You lowly hissed when the chemical made contact.

“Thought this wasn’t your first drill,” he teased.

“Okay, just because I’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean it’s not painful,” you both laughed, “I can still handle it,”

The rest of the cleaning went somewhat silent, just a few mumbled sorries were thrown around, but by the time he had pulled out the bandages, you grew impatient.

“You’re not gonna ask?” you broke the ice.

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because,” he raised his shoulders, “It’s too late to go and make ‘em pay for it,”

“Oh god, please don’t, I already did that,”

“What do you mean?” he began to wrap your hand.

“I’m the one who started the fight because they were talking shit,”

“What kind of shit?”

“All kinds, throwing rumors and just- bullshit,”

“About who?”

You licked your lips.

—Really? Now you go silent? You’re already here, fuck it—

“About you,”

“What?” he tightened the cloth too much.

“Ow,”

“Sorry, sorry,” he let go.

“Yeah,” you confessed, “They were talking shit about you and I shut them up,”

“Who?” he was still confused.

“Some girl from my school who thinks she’s fucking… Regina George or somethin’, she’s just a bitch,” you shook your head.

“Why?”

—Why?—

You grabbed his face, and gave him the most mellow and honeyed eyes you’ve ever had, “You haven’t figured that one out yet, have you?” you joined your foreheads as you closed your eyes, “You’re not the smart one out of us anyway,” you heard him giggle.

He brushed his nose with yours, shyly getting closer.

—Are you sure?—

—Yeah—

—Fuck it—

You kissed him for the first time, but held on to it like it was the last, how was it that you could say everything with just that? The most disarming and humble expression there is; the touch of two epidermises, and the completion of dual fantasies. You almost blubber in it, oh sacchariferous little poison of yours, worth every penny, every dime, every tear, every scream, and every dream.

He paused, taking a deep breath, yet never breaking contact.

You sobbed, “I love you,” you dried his cheeks.

“I love you too,” he whimpered.

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