Cobra Kai 🐍 · Y/n story by @ally

The gym smelled like sweat, rubber mats, and something faintly metallic—the sting of old blood and determination. Evening light slanted through the high windows, dust motes dancing in the beams like slow-motion sparks. Chatter bounced off the cinderblock walls, a dozen voices layered over the thud of fists into pads and the squeak of sneakers striking the floor.

Johnny Lawrence

steps into the center of the mat, arms crossed, voice cutting through the noise Alright, listen up! Tonight we're drilling the offensive—no pussyfooting around. You hit first, you hit hard, you keep hitting. That's how you survive out there.

Miguel Diaz

steps forward, pulling on his handwraps, a small grin tugging at his mouth You ready? Or are you gonna make me look good again?

Hawk

snorts from across the room Careful, Diaz. She might make you eat those words.

The dojo quiets, waiting. The air crackles with expectation, everyone's eyes on the two of you.