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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 10 months

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@ckhalloween23 heyyyyyy bestie(s) I know I'm an entire-ass month late, BUT

HERE'S A PREVIEW OF THE ELIMETRI DARKFIC I PROMISED

Listen, y'all can't give me a "Serial Killers" prompt and the opportunity to write the dark, unhinged Demetri Alexopoulos of my dreams presented on a silver platter and NOT expect me to go a little apeshit ^^;

Or. A lot apeshit. Because boy did I let this funny little comic relief guy SNAP ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Also, funnily enough, I realized over the course of the last year or so that I'm probably autistic? For the longest time I held off on writing Hawk's POV because I hc him as autistic and I didn't think I could do him justice, but...I've unlocked this Fun Secret Collector's Item now, I guess XD Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz POV acquired!

Decided to give it a stab here, since him having NO fucking idea how to react to Crazy Demetri was just too much fun. Hawk came to me surprisingly easy once I got started, actually??? I mean I've always related to him a lot but I had no idea it was like. An autism thing. I thought it was just an ND thing akisudhlkuhyfu

Head's up to Tory and Robby stans...this may not be the fic for you. You have been warned 👀

CW for blood, violence, knife-threatening, light knifeplay, toxic relationships (although YMMV), mentions of murder, implied slut-shaming, homophobic slurs, and sexual subtext.

Fic under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request :3

***

Hawk’s on his 30th rep when he hears the front door.

He stops mid-jab, the punching bag rattling on its chain as it sways back and forth. Scoffing, he rolls his eyes.

His mom must be home early. How fucking annoying.

He was looking forward to having the house to himself. With his father on a weekend-long business trip and his mother at her Friday night wine hangout, he was finally going to catch up on training without any interruptions.

The last thing he needs is to be outdone by Kyler Park and Robby Fucking Keene.

Hopefully his mom won’t come knocking, pestering him to watch movies or some other frivolous crap. He doesn’t have time for that anymore.

Strange. There’s a notable lack of the jingling and clattering that usually comes from 50 million things being shifted through an oversize purse. Hawk pauses, listening for any noise.

Maybe he imagined it.

“What the hell.” He takes a sip of the Red Bull on his bedside. Some sleep-deprived delirium or whatever it was wasn’t going to fuck up his focus.

Sure, he’s been averaging 5 hours a night, but who gives a shit? It’s not like anyone in high school actually gets enough sleep.

Sensei Kreese said in ‘Nam, they had to be ready to fight on a moment’s notice—geared to slaughter enemies after a mere 30 minutes’ rest in 48 hours. Hawk doesn’t strive for anything less.

The stairs creak.

His mom isn’t usually one for sneaking past his room, but perhaps she’s too tired to be chatty. He thanks the powers that be this seems to be the case, and returns to his reps.

Jab, cross, roundhouse. Jab, cross, roundhouse. Elbow. Knee to the chest.

He counts them out as he goes, power surging through him. Sensei will be sorry he started singing Keene’s praises when Hawk’s a better fighter than that piece of shit ever was.

Because throwing someone off a balcony when they had their guard down was a coward’s move. Typical Miyagi Do bullshit.

God, Hawk hates them. Hypocrites. Losers. Pussies.

He thinks of a new insult every time he lands a punch.

Miguel’s fucking insane for not appreciating what Cobra Kai did to get payback. What Hawk did to get payback.

His fists are starting to ache, fingers burning from being smashed against rubber again and again. Hawk doesn’t care.

Sensei would say the pain makes him stronger.

Jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross jab cross—

“You know, at some point, I think you’re as good as you’re going to get at punching.”

A shadow blocks the hallway light.

Dread grips him in frosty talons. His arms still, the punching bag swinging back and smacking his chest.

He gasps, stumbling back. Still, he refuses to look at the doorway.

Refuses to let Demetri see his shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

He presses as much venom into the words as possible. Enough intimidation, and Demetri will back down.

He knows now that Hawk is as real a threat as he ever was. And Demetri’s smart enough not to keep poking at a tiger that’s already mauled him.

“In what world would I not remember where you keep your spare keys?” Demetri sneers.

Well. Maybe that’s a bit generous.

“What do you want?”

Hawk keeps his tone steely, hoping he can kill whatever plans are swimming around his ex-best-friend’s head before they even form. In all likelihood, Demetri’s here to be a nuisance at best and a night-ruiner at worst.

Fucking Demetri. He’s always been such a distraction.

Hawk needs to get rid of those.

He thought he did. But Demetri is apparently either too stupid or too obsessed with the past to be properly scared away.

Irritating, but admittedly also interesting. It shows a kind of boldness that he wouldn’t expect Demetri, of all people, to have.

“Maybe I want to check in on my best friend.” Groaning footfalls as Demetri starts to slowly cross Hawk’s room. “I see you avoiding me at school. And you didn’t even bother to show when your little friends crashed Sam’s party. Perhaps I want to see how you are, hmmmm?”

And try as he might, Hawk can’t pick up the usual sarcastic edge to Demetri’s tone. He frowns at his far wall, confused.

There’s something odd in Demetri’s voice, and Hawk can’t for the life of him pick up what it is.

He still refuses to look at his oldest friend. He’s not going to give him the satisfaction of undivided attention.

Demetri is a pest, and should be treated as such.

“We’re not best friends,” Hawk says tightly, landing another punch on his bag. “Whatever we were? It’s done. Has been for a long time. Why can’t you get that?”

He finally graces Demetri with a look. He’s expecting the usual sullen look—scrunched brow, open mouth, widened eyes. Like he’s eternally surprised Hawk doesn’t need him anymore.

A look where maybe, if he prods it farther, Demetri will storm off. Or run off crying. Be out of Hawk’s sight.

Be somewhere where Hawk doesn’t have to think about that night at Golf N Stuff. Or how it felt to watch Demetri writhe on the floor. Or the streams of vomit that ripped from Hawk’s stomach as soon as he got home.

Or what he did to himself in the wee hours of the morning, when no one—not his mother, not Cobra Kai, not Sensei Kreese—was around to see.

But when Hawk glances over now, Demetri is smiling.

Not a contemptuous sneer, or a pained grimace. A full-on grin, splitting his cheeks and stretching much wider than the situation calls for.

Hawk inhales sharply.

Demetri shakes his head, laughing. “It’s almost endearing, you know. What a tryhard you are.”

He squares his jaw, refusing to budge as Demetri advances on him. “I thought I made it pretty clear what I think about you. You want another reminder?”

Hawk balls his fists, trying not to think about how hard the words are to force out. How hard he’s working to keep the iron shell he’s built around himself intact.

A strange smell hovers around Demetri. Acrid and metallic, like he’s spent too much time mucking around inside one of those computers he’s so besotted with.

“How revoltingly naïve.” Green eyes burn into him like acid, the glint behind them unlike anything he’s ever seen. “You thought you’d break my arm once and be done with me?

Hawk finds himself backing away.

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you, Hawk.”

Something in the way Demetri spits his new name finally gives him clarity.

“So what the fuck do you want from me?” he spits. “Why did you come here?”

“I came here because you were right. About everything.”

Any response is snatched from Hawk’s mouth.

For several seconds, all he can do is stare. Demetri smirks, apparently reveling in getting a leg up.

Hawk is so confused that he can’t even find it in himself to be angry. A strangled “what?” is all that comes out, pulling a snigger from his adversary.

“You think you’ve got it all figured out. Becoming the scariest fighter in the Valley. Making everyone quiver at the sight of you. Doing whatever you like because people aren’t brave enough to tell you no. Becoming your badass karate teacher’s little golden child. Getting rid of your weaknesses. Getting rid of me. But there’s one thing you got wrong.”

Typical Demetri. Monologuing around the point.

But Hawk is, nonetheless, finding his confusion turning to intrigue.

The mopey kicked puppy routine had gotten unbearably tedious. At least Demetri finally has the decency to give Hawk some variety.

“Oh, yeah?” He curls his lip. “What’s that?”

Demetri casually leans on Hawk’s dresser, like this is nothing more than a Friday night video game session.

“You think I avoid fights because I’m scared. But that’s not true anymore.” And there’s that grin again—that wide, unnerving grin that looks like it was pasted on from another human being’s face. The sort of manic look that would never in a thousand years belong on Demetri Alexopoulos.

“I avoid fights because I know who’s worth fighting. And who’s worth hurting.”

Well, that’s new.

Hawk narrows his eyes, trying to piece together if this is all some kind of trick.

“See, Eli, you were right that the world isn’t kind to people who get too soft.” Demetri starts sauntering over again, and that odd, metallic smell strengthens. “Or losers. Or weaklings. Or people who admit defeat. Give in too easily. Run off cowering and scared. So I’m shaking all that off. Next time I fight, I won’t lose.”

As Hawk pieces everything together, he scowls.

“So that’s what you want?” he hisses. “A rematch? Like you’d stand a chance.”

“So touchy. Do you only think of people in terms of whether you can beat them in a fight now? Boooooring.”

Demetri clicks his tongue disapprovingly. It’s a mocking gesture he’s been doing since they were little, but now something about it feels chilling.

Hawk’s back bumps his bedroom wall. Demetri’s closing in on him.

Fucking hell—he’s getting fed up with this cat-and-mouse. Why is he even entertaining this stupid nerd again?

It’s not like he gives a shit about him anymore. Then he wouldn’t snap his arm in half.

“Fuck off, Demetri!” he roars. “I fucking hate you. I don’t give a shit about anything you have to say! Get the hell out of my house, or I swear to god I’ll break your arm again.”

He fills the words with fire and force and poison, hoping something will hurt Demetri enough to make him go.

He can’t cave again. Not after he’s worked this hard to oust Demetri and everything he represents from his life.

Not after he’s severed Demetri’s bone with his own hands and smiled with his friends about it.

That should’ve been the last straw. That should’ve been what sent Demetri running for good, abandoning everything they’d once had to save himself.

But it didn’t. It fucking didn’t.

Demetri takes another step into his space, curling his lip. “You’re full of shit.”

“Fuck you.” Eli returns his stare, baring his teeth. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you hesitated.”

Hawk goes rigid.

“I begged you to stop.” Demetri’s hands slide onto the wall on either side of him, trapping him. “And you thought about it. You didn’t break my arm until all your psychotic teammates goaded you on. If you really hated me?” His voice drops to a breathy whisper. “You wouldn’t have even thought twice.”

“You don’t know shit.”

Demetri snickers.

“Poor little Eli. You’ve always sucked at arguing when you get backed into a corner.”

“I still broke it,” Hawk growls. “You know I can do it. Easily. So how are you stupid enough that you’re still fucking with me? You some kind of masochist?”

“You still care about me, Eli.” They’re inches apart now, Demetri leering over Hawk. “You never got over me not wanting to join your little club of sociopaths. Whenever there’s a rumble, you can’t stay away from me. And you want to know what I think?”

“Shut up.”

Demetri’s voice is husky in Hawk’s ear. “You wouldn’t hurt me when there’s no one to show off to.”

Hawk’s done with this.

He lunges, shoving Demetri’s chest and flying at him with an outstretched fist. He waits for that gratifying moment of shock—the familiar shift in Demetri’s features as he realizes yet again Hawk has no intention of going easy on him.

Demetri doesn’t even blink as he moves out of the way.

Hawk course-corrects, swiveling and diving for Demetri again. He throws the fastest punch he can manage straight at Demetri’s jaw.

Why the hell won’t he give up?

Demetri’s fantastic at giving up. He always has been. He gave up on standing up to bullies and he gave up on Cobra Kai and he gave up on Sensei Kreese.

So why won’t he give up on Hawk?

Demetri doesn’t dodge this time. He only swerves, allowing the fist to graze his chin.

He lets out a hiss of pain—angry, but not surprised.

Without warning, Demetri’s hands shoot up. Hawk freezes as long fingers snake across the skin of his arm.

The next second he’s screaming, Demetri’s hands twisting until his skin burns. The other boy’s grip tightens, thrusting him toward the floor.

He’s stealing my fucking moves again.

And frustratingly, he can do them fast. Hawk barely manages to use his other arm to shove Demetri off, stumbling back.

Even one moment of disorientation is too long. Demetri charges again, teeth bared like a wild animal.

One arm slams him against his bedroom wall while the other digs into his chest, squeezing the air out of him. And Hawk hates to admit it, but Demetri’s training-broadened shoulders have a terrifying amount of power behind them.

Nothing he can’t handle. Hawk’s taken on bigger opponents before.

He squirms in Demetri’s grip, his own arms loosening enough for his hands to make a grab for the taller boy’s throat. Then Demetri’s pinning hand is gone, slipping in and out of his jacket in what feels like less than a heartbeat.

Something cold and sharp presses Hawk’s throat. His hands drop, tensing against the wall.

“What the fuck…?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Eli.” Demetri tilts his head, pouting mockingly. “But you make it so damn hard to talk to you. Can’t do a thing without you coming at me like some kind of rabid coyote.”

“So you pull a…are you fucking insane?”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Red Hulk Rage Issues.” The pout morphs into a smirk. “Clearly, you’re not above playing dirty, using that sad little Eli voice of yours to get out of trouble. Figured it was time I caught up.”

Hawk feels something sticky dripping down his neck. His breath hitches in his throat.

He aims a hit at Demetri’s stomach. The taller boy bends with it, and the blade presses harder.

“Oh, come now.” Demetri tuts disapprovingly. “Don’t make me slit your throat.”

Hawk hardens his expression, channeling everything in him into hiding the shock.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t think you’re in a great place to test that.”

And he’s right. Hawk hates it, but he’s right.

This isn’t the Demetri he knows better than the back of his hand. The Demetri he knows so uncomfortably well that he convinced himself over and over and over that it meant he was sick of the fucking geek.

This isn’t grounded, rational, sensible Demetri. Something’s snipped his threads, made him start fraying at the edges.

He’s unraveling, floating in an ether where the pragmatic and the path of least resistance that he made his life philosophy are losing their appeal. He’s…

Well, it seems he’s done some script-flipping of his own. Decided—perhaps on a whim—to overhaul everything Hawk knew and replace it with something cold and alien and completely fucking unpredictable.

Was this how Demetri felt, that day Hawk showed up at school with spiked hair and a conniving sneer? Is this some kind of payback?

He doesn’t care if this new boy with a knife to his throat killed and gutted the friend he grew up with. It doesn’t matter anymore. That relationship only ever got in the way, anyhow.

He truly could not care less. Honest.

The only emotion he feels is annoyance that this new opponent will be harder to match, with erratic moves and a quickly-thinning conscience.

This Demetri isn’t pulling any punches. One stupid or sloppy move, and Hawk will be on the floor gurgling his life out.

He’s never taken Demetri for someone impulsive, but perhaps he just had a talent for controlling his most brutal and primal urges—for his own safety, if nothing else. Perhaps he’s lost this ability.

Hawk wonders what it says about him that he isn’t bothered by this at all. If anything, he finds the whole concept exhilarating.

Fighting Demetri had gotten so boring. Now, at last, they’re on equal footing.

Regardless, there could be a trace of the Old Demetri yet. He might be able to use that.

“Put the fucking knife away or I’ll call the cops,” Hawk snarls. “Think you’ll get into Stanford with a police report on your permanent record? Or whatever fucking nerd school you’re trying to—”

“With what phone?” Demetri interrupts. “The one you left on the coffee table downstairs so it won’t distract you from wailing on your stupid bag?”

Fuck. How did Demetri even notice shit like that?

Hawk tries not to let the dismay show.

“When my mom gets home, she’ll—”

“Mommy’s not coming for you, Eli.” Demetri’s smirk widens. “Mommy’s getting drunk with all her friends to forget her unfulfilled suburban picket fence life with her nasty, violent delinquent of a son. And Mommy’s going to crash at Michelle Galinski’s house, just like she has every Friday night for the past 10 years. And oh dear…Daddy’s out of town on his top-of-the-month business trip? Looks like no one’s coming to save you.”

Fuck that. He can save himself.

Hawk makes a grab for Demetri’s wrist, other hand clawing at the arm compressing his chest. Demetri seamlessly lifts the elbow of his knife-holding arm and jabs the bony appendage into Hawk’s skin.

The knife blade doesn’t even falter, pressing more firmly into Hawk’s neck. A sting, and he feels something warm trickle toward his chest.

The scent from earlier intensifies, and Hawk realizes abruptly that it must have been blood.

“Mmmm-mmmm.” Demetri purses his lips and shakes his head, like he’s scolding a disobedient child. “It’ll make it much easier for both of us if you don’t act up. I really don’t want to cut your throat, but I will.”

As Demetri sneers down at him, Hawk realizes too late that he couldn’t cover his alarm.

“What? Don’t think I’d actually hurt you?”

The taller boy fiddles with the knife, sending little pricks of pain rippling through Hawk’s neck.

“I guess you know how it feels now,” he purrs.

Hawk spits in Demetri’s face, sudden fury overtaking him.

This pathetic nerd’s not going to make him feel bad now. Not after everything he’s done to crush the part of himself that possibly could feel bad.

“Fuck you.”

And slowly, never once breaking his gaze, Demetri licks Hawk’s saliva off his chin. The dim hallway light just catches the moisture on his face.

“Keep it in your pants, Moskowitz. We’re not there yet.”

Now Demetri’s definitely fucking with him.

It’s growing tiresome. Nonetheless, he doesn’t want that cut in his neck getting any wider.

There’s something distinctly unnerving about the way Demetri’s eyes are boring into him, sizing him up with a kind of cold contempt. Looking at him like he’s nothing more than some ugly insect to crush under his shoe.

It’s the sort of callousness that Hawk has never once—not in the entire time he’s known Demetri—been the target of.

And maybe he’ll admit it. He dislikes it for more than just the fact it throws him off.

Demetri is spiraling into someone unrecognizable, and the sheer foreignness of the whole process makes Hawk shudder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hawk’s voice is small and weak. Like Eli’s.

He doesn’t care.

His entire sense of reality—every absolute, irrefutable truth he’s ever attached to himself and his life and his oldest friend—is uprooting and spinning out of control, and it’s not like anything fucking matters anymore.

Demetri laughs—a sharp, hollow sound devoid of any real humor.

“Like you’re one to talk. I know what you did to Brucks.”

Hawk’s blood freezes.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Demetri’s knife slides from the cut on Hawk’s neck, beginning to tease the underside of his chin. “Mitch told us what happened. And I damn well noticed when Brucks stopped showing up to school. Nice of your war criminal sensei to help you cover that up.”

Hawk’s breath comes in quick, short gasps.

Of course Demetri put two and two together. Of course he’d gone snooping so he could find something else to hang over Hawk’s head.

And the fall of that knife might be worse than the one currently tickling his jaw.

Part of him hates it. Hates being reminded of that day and hates being reminded what he’s capable of. Hates remembering the sight of a living, breathing person crumpling to the floor, and realizing they would never get up again.

But Hawk isn’t stupid. If anyone can play Demetri’s games, it’s the person who knows him better than anyone in the world.

“Demetri.” He keeps his tone as calm and non-abrasive as he can. “Who else’s blood is on your knife?”

Because it was still wet when Demetri shoved it up against him. And Demetri’s a moron if he thinks Hawk missed that.

“Ah. And we finally get to that.” Demetri chuckles, gently tracing Hawk’s jawline with the honed edge. “You see…the difference between you and me, Eli, is that I don’t need anyone’s help to hide my bodies.”

His heart drops to his feet.

“What did you do?”

“Not any worse than you.” Demetri cocks his head. “I hurt someone who deserved it.”

“Demetri.” Hawk steels his voice. “What did you do?”

Because whatever it was, Hawk sure as hell needs to take the proper precautions to make certain he isn’t next.

“Stopped at the convenience store on the way over here.” Demetri follows the knife with his eyes as he talks, expression almost affectionate. “Ran into one of Kyler’s old buddies from the wrestling team. One of the kids who used to call us fags, remember? He thought it would be fun to shove me around. So I pretended I was running my ass away, and got him to chase me somewhere a little more…private.”

Hawk gapes at him.

“Did you really…?”

“Shanked the asshole like a pig. He was so surprised he didn’t even fight back. And let me tell you, it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

And there’s that laugh again—the broken, disjointed chortles that feel so jarringly out-of-place. Green eyes shining with a frenetic light that makes Hawk’s hands grow slick with sweat.

Demetri leans in again, knife held steady as his lips brush Hawk’s ear.

“I know how it feels, you know. I know what it is to get so angry that you don’t even know what your body’s doing until it’s too late. Watch the life fade out of another human being’s eyes. Realize you like it. Sit there panicking about being some kind of inhuman monster and then suddenly realizing you don’t fucking care. And I suppose…I suppose that’s another reason you were right. There is a certain freedom in embracing that the world is cruel and cutthroat and unforgiving. In finally unmuzzling the wild animal thrashing around inside you and letting it hunt the way it was always meant to.”

Hawk shudders.

Sensei Kreese promised no one would ever find out about Brucks. Staged some kind of car accident or binge-drinking tragedy or drug OD or some other way stupid teenagers die all the time. Kyler was barred from the funeral, with Kreese worried (probably reasonably) that the dumbass would let something slip.

Kreese told the class that if anyone snitched, he’d be more than willing to look the other way as they met the same fate as Brucks.

Hawk hated how much he enjoyed it. He hated how after the deed was done, he couldn’t find a scrap of guilt in his psyche. It made him feel detached from himself—the abstract idea that doing that to another person was bad, but the complete lack of any emotions to back it up.

But that’s who he is now. No going back, he supposes.

Perhaps, on some level, he figured Demetri would pick up on this and leave him alone. Decide that Hawk’s path was too dark and too dangerous for his pasty basement nerd tastes, and stay huddled away with the Miyagi Dos singing kumbaya.

That would probably be best for him, anyways. Hawk still doesn’t know what other horrific shit he has it in him to do, especially when his victim pleaded so hard for mercy that would never come. When Brucks’ fruitless begging gave him an unmistakable rush.

And yet here Demetri is, claiming he was in a similar position. Claiming he lost control.

It isn’t that Demetri can’t put on an act if he needs to. But on some level, Hawk’s always been able to tell when his best friend is exaggerating or embellishing to make a story more interesting. There’s a kind of snarky undertone he uses, always giving that he isn’t completely serious. Subtle, but easy to pick up if you’re familiar with it.

There’s none of that here. If anything, this is the kind of emotional vulnerability Demetri never displays intentionally.

Until now, apparently.

Hawk bites his lip. “You’re not lying, are you?”

“You’re so cute.” The tip of the knife jabs into the underside of Hawk’s chin. “You thought I was some…what? Some sissy little do-gooder? The pinnacle of morality and mercy and all great virtues? No, no.” He giggles. “I’ve always been as fucked up as you. I only managed to keep it buried longer.”

Hawk scowls, suddenly remembering exactly who he’s talking to.

“Give me a fucking break. You joined the pussy-ass ‘defense only’ karate dojo. Your entire philosophy is about being sissy little do-gooders. Like you’d have the balls to pull even half the shit Cobra Kai—”

The knife flies back to the wound in his throat, Demetri using his arm to ram Hawk harder into the wall.

“You think I ever gave a flying fuck about Miyagi-Do?” he spits. “You think I’m some slavering pet like you, tripping over my little lapdog paws to appease my sensei’s every command? You think these asinine karate wars ever mattered to me? No.” He shoves his face into Hawk’s, blood on his breath. “You’re the one so obsessed with following orders that you can’t even remember who you were before you became some demented old man’s attack dog. You’re the one so drunk on loyalty to a fucking karate dojo that you can’t see none of this shit matters.”

Hawk bares his teeth, hoping with everything he has that Demetri won’t notice him shaking.

“Easy for you to say, when you pussied out after one punch in the face,” he sneered. “Of course you want to believe all of this is pointless when you’re on the losing team. But I’m not like you, Demetri. I’m no quitter.”

“Oh, how admirable.” The knife presses a little harder. “Tell me then, Hawk. How’s being on the same team as Kyler? As fucking Robby Keene? You excited for the chance to help them hurt Miguel again?”

Red-hot rage rips through Hawk. He lifts a leg and knees Demetri’s shin as hard as he can.

Demetri barely even winces. His other foot kicks up, ramming the side of Hawk’s knee. Hawk scrambles for balance, heart pounding as he just avoids falling into the knifepoint.

“Thought that’d hit a nerve.”

“Fuck you!” Hawk spits. “Keene was from your fucking dojo! You fought with him, too!”

“Not since he hurt Miguel.”

Demetri’s voice is frigid, rivaling the most biting winter rains. Every inch of him drips with a venomous hatred that Hawk has never seen before.

Not directed at him. Not directed at anyone.

“And now he’s in your dojo. Funny how that works.” Demetri clicks his tongue. “Guess your roaring rampage of revenge was all for naught.”

“It wasn’t.” Hawk curls his lip. “You were all responsible, and we got our paypack. It’s not our fault Miguel wasn’t grateful.”

“Ooooh, gotta love the Hawk’s impeccable logic! ‘Ah, yes, I think I will terrorize everyone in this dojo except for the person who actually almost killed my friend, who I will agree to team up with for some reason!’” Demetri returns his sneer. “Are you really such an obedient little bitch that you do whatever your precious sensei tells you? Even when you damn well know it makes no sense? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

“Park and Keene know their place,” Hawk hisses. “They know I’m the alpha. They answer to me.”

Demetri cocks his head, looking amused.

“Even if I were to believe that. Do you like sharing a class with those assholes? Do you like knowing that if one of them were to get their ass handed to them by a Miyagi-Do or an Eagle Fang—by Miguel—that you’d be expected to rescue them?”

“I’d do it.” Hawk grits his teeth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I’d fucking do it. Sensei Kreese gave Sensei Lawrence and the others a chance to join back up with Cobra Kai, and they said no. Miguel chose his side.”

Demetri sighs, expression almost pitying.

“I guess ‘Cobra Kai for life’ trumps a Cobra’s desire to beat another Cobra into the damn ground. Kind of a shame. I think you’d enjoy hurting them.”

What Demetri said earlier circles back into his mind.

I avoid fights because I know who’s worth hurting.

Hawk straightens, keeping his composure.

“Sensei says we need all the allies we can get,” he says. “Even if we don’t like them. I’m putting up with Kyler and Robby long enough to win the tournament, and that’s it. Then I’ll find some way to weed them out.”

“I doubt it.” Demetri smiles down at him. If it weren’t for the knife, Hawk would punch his teeth in. “Contrary to how you act, I know you’re a smart guy. If you knew how to get rid of them, you would have already. No, Eli…” His voice drops to a purr. “You’re stuck with them, aren’t you?”

Hawk feels sick.

Leave it to Demetri to pinpoint his deepest fears—a karate clan filled with the worst people Hawk knew. Not a single friend to speak of, and a sensei with constantly divided attention.

Even Tory was turning out to be a fucking snake in the grass. She certainly took to the boy who nearly killed her ex with not an ounce of guilt.

And yet she believed with all of her being that Demetri deserved a broken arm for what Robby Keene did. That he was a pussy for crying out in pain. Actions didn’t matter to her—only the name branded across the merchandise you wore and the color of your gi at tournaments.

For the first time, the thought makes Hawk seethe.

All this time she’d seemed nothing but tough and fearless, but all she was was a shallow bitch who cared more about rank and status than a damn thing you actually did.

She was always going to hate Sam LaRusso for being rich and popular. She was always going to hate Miyagi Do for its association with LaRusso. But the second Keene bailed? Put on a belt with a cobra on it and showed off his snake-snatching skills?

She couldn’t wait to get on his dick. The filthy slut.

And suddenly Hawk realizes that he hates her, too. He hates so many of the people who are supposed to be his allies. But he can’t afford to think like that. And most of all, he can’t afford to let Demetri see it.

He glowers up at his ex-best-friend, keeping his gaze stony. “And why do you care? You have your posse of Miyagi losers to pal around with. Why do you give a shit what I do? Just go home to your little—”

“I left Miyagi-Do!”

The words come out in a forceful scream that practically knocks Hawk even further into the wall.

The sheer disdain in Demetri’s eyes for the group he had so cozily assimilated into sends Hawk reeling. He’d never—not in this lifetime or the next—expect Demetri to toss the whole lot of them out like garbage.

Demetri breaks into another grin, reveling in Hawk’s stunned silence.

“See, that’s another difference between you and I, Eli. I don’t need some washed-out old man telling me what to believe and how to fight. I can think for myself. And frankly, I got sick of the ‘safety in numbers’ business when it seemed ‘the numbers’ were always the ones who got to pick my enemies for me. And no one—” His eyes burn into Hawk. “No one decides that but me. I hurt who I like when I like, and I’ll fucking gut anyone who gets in my way.”

Hawk exhales slowly, keeping his scowl pulled tight.

“So…what?” Hawk sneers. “You’re going to fight Cobra Kai by yourself now? That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Not all of them. Some of your class are just brainwashed idiots who don’t know what they’re doing.” He sighs, shaking his head. “And you, Eli…well, I think you’ve lost sight of who your true enemy is. I was hoping I could help.”

“You really bounced?” Hawk narrows his eyes, still trying to make sense of everything. “After everything, you…just up and left?”

It can’t be that easy. He knows it wouldn’t be in Cobra Kai.

“Yeah.” Demetri shrugs. “And now I have way more time for important things.”

“I don’t get it.” Hawk’s frown deepens. “Why would you strike off on your own? Did something happen?”

“You happened.”

Short. Simple. Concise.

Completely baffling.

Not that that was anything new today.

Maybe it’s Hawk’s imagination, but the knife loosens a little.

“Don’t you get it?” For the first time all night, something like genuine anguish prods through Demetri’s voice. “I meant what I said. I never gave a rat’s ass about the karate wars, or the stupid dojo feuds. All I ever wanted was to be worth your fucking time again.”

All Hawk can do is stare.

It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any fucking sense.

“And sure,” Demetri concedes after a moment. “At first, I wanted to do right by Mr. LaRusso. By Sam. They were the ones who taught me. Toughened me up into something worthwhile. Worked with all the shit you thought was a lost cause. But it was always a means to an end to stay relevant to you. Then after what happened with Moon, I genuinely thought the Miyagi-Do philosophy would help you. But I learned soon enough that you were in too deep for appealing to the Old Eli to work. No, I had to speak to you in your own language.”

He licks his lips as the knife starts to slide up Hawk’s neck again, dancing over the bottom of his chin and onto the plump skin of his lips.

“Aggression. Violence. Dominance.” He chuckles. “Wasn’t my go-to, but if it got your attention, I could make it work. And I guess I did, huh? I riled you up enough that you couldn’t leave me alone.”

“You wanted to piss me off?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you coming back for more.” And there it is again—that wide, sadistic grin that feels so brutally wrong. “You can leave me, Eli. You can disown me. You can shit on everything we had and make my life a living hell. But you can’t bring yourself to just ignore me. Because you’re so weak that you can’t bear to refuse the bait when I press your buttons. Because as much as you claim to hate me, you can’t move on from me.”

“And now you ditch your team to…what? Fight me on your own?” Hawk matches Demetri’s grin with one of his own. “I’d wreck you. And deep down, you know it.”

“So presumptuous.” Demetri shakes his head, tutting. “Frankly, I came here tonight because I’m sick of fighting you.”

“Says the one with a knife to my throat.”

“That’s because you don’t fucking listen without me having to resort to extreme measures,” Demetri hisses. “I think we’re a lot closer to being on the same page than you think. And maybe if you dropped this whole tribalism bullshit, you’d see that.”

So Demetri wants a truce. Hawk should have known.

He’s not surprised. But the way they arrived here?

Now that’s a twist.

It’s still an insane concept. Like he’s supposed to let his greatest enemy off the hook. Let Demetri get away with all the ways he’s undermined him and humiliated him and put the Old Eli—the weak, pathetic nerd Eli—on blast for all the world to see.

But if Demetri really left Miyagi Do…

Hawk finds himself wondering how much of his rage against the Miyagi Dos is his own, and how much is Sensei Kreese’s. And if Demetri’s truly deserted “the enemy,” does Hawk still have to hate him?

Does he even want to?

Demetri isn’t that pathetic, sniveling dweeb anymore. He’s crushed his old self as brutally as Hawk has.

Because the Demetri Hawk has known all his life could scarcely bring himself to cook with sharp knives, let alone use one to threaten another human being’s life.

Or take one.

But despite everything, something still doesn’t add up.

“I heard about your little rousing speech,” Hawk says. “About how important it was for Miyagi Do and Eagle Fang to unite against the ‘biggest assholes in the Valley.’ And now you’ve abandoned both of them. Was that all just a load of crap, then?”

Demetri is unfazed.

“Call me naïve, but I thought if Miguel and I were on the same team, you’d finally see some damn sense. You’d hurt me, sure. I’ve known that for a while. But I never thought you’d touch the kid you went on a vengeance quest for.” He shrugs. “Color me surprised when you wrote him off as just another enemy.”

“I told you.” Hawk works his fingers against the wall again, uneasiness trickling over his skin. “Miguel chose his side.”

“Be that as it may. I figured if you were so far gone that you were ready to wail on literally every person you used to be friends with, I needed to adjust my strategy.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to you. For getting you to tell the truth.”

And Hawk doesn’t want to think for too long about what truth Demetri has in mind.

“So you pull out a fucking knife.”

“Mhm.” Demetri snickers. “That’s how you communicate, yeah? Threats and intimidation?”

Hawk clenches his jaw. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Is that so.” The arm suddenly lifts from squeezing Hawk’s chest, long fingers seizing his wrist. He’s too surprised to pry them away.

He really should be expecting this kind of insane bullshit by now.

“Your pulse is going haywire, Eli,” Demetri murmurs. “Either you’re a liar, or something else has you energized. I wonder what that could be?”

It’s then Hawk’s mind fully catches up to its surroundings.

He rips his wrist away, pivoting away from the knife and sending a knee into Demetri’s ribs. The knife tip slices his cheek, but so be it. He’s endured worse.

Demetri gasps, stumbling back. Hawk makes a grab for the knife.

The taller boy is still too quick. He holds the weapon out of reach, using his other arm to thrust Hawk’s body back.

Before Demetri can do anything else, Hawk squats down and sweeps his leg. With a grunt, his opponent stumbles to the floor.

Something seizes Hawk’s ankles as he stands. He cries out as he’s yanked backward with surprising force, landing on the floor next to Demetri.

Hawk scrambles for the bed, trying to writhe out of Demetri’s grip and hoist himself up by the covers.

It’ll be over when I have the high ground.

What a stupid reference to think about.

It reminds him of the kind of game he and Demetri might have once played. Whoever made it onto the bed would get to be Obi-Wan, and whoever stayed on the floor would have to be Anakin, drowning in lava.

The idea leaves him feeling strange.

Demetri doesn’t let go, snarling like a hyena as he tries to tug Hawk back. The knife teases his skin, an imminent threat if he makes any moves too sudden.

He’d kick the annoying asshole away from him, but he doesn’t want the sole of his foot sliced open. If he can’t walk, he can’t fight.

Suddenly, Demetri cries out, grip loosening. In Hawk’s struggles, he must’ve rammed into a sensitive spot. He yanks himself free, scrambling onto the bed and frantically trying to plan his next move.

He realizes his mistake a half-second too late.

Demetri, gleefully bluffing, rises to his full height. Smirking, he pounces like a jaguar.

He lands heavily on Hawk’s stomach, slamming him against the bed. The back of his head smacks against the headboard, filling his vision with stars.

He barely has time to let out a pained gasp before Demetri’s knees are digging into his quadriceps, pinning him again. Growling, he aims a punch at Demetri’s throat.

His fist meets its target, pulling a strangled gasp. Hawk clasps his arms around Demetri’s torso, trying to thrust him off the bed.

For a moment they struggle, yanking and shoving wildly in an attempt to gain an advantage. Then Hawk feels long arms wrap around his back, bony fingers clutching at his throat.

The tingling pain of blade against skin, and Hawk realizes Demetri kept hold of his knife.

Whenever I think he’s finally going to drop that damned thing…

The knife jabs into him, strengthening its grip until he’s pressed flat on his back. At last Demetri loosens his grip, sizing up his victim with a satisfied beam.

Hawk squirms, bed creaking as he does his best to jostle Demetri off. The other boy holds fast, gazing down at him with a pitying look.

The blade digs in again, and Hawk’s struggles weaken.

“Come now. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“Let. Me. Go.”

“I don’t believe I was finished.”

Demetri tilts his head to the side, breaking into another crazed grin that sends dread trickling straight down to Hawk’s bones.

“Shut up Demetri.”

“I see you staring at me. All this time, and all these girls you tried so hard to fuck, and everything always comes back to your stupid middle school infatuation.”

“SHUT UP!”

Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, trying to bleach Demetri’s cold, smug expression from his mind.

“Right after you had your Bar Mitzvah, you asked me to kiss you. You figured since I already had mine, we were both adults now. And adults do grown-up things like kissing.”

“STOP IT!”

And suddenly Hawk is screaming at the top of his lungs because he knows where this is going. Because they were just stupid kids, and that can’t mean anything.

“I said of course I would, because I’d always liked you, Eli.” Demetri’s voice only grows louder—more insistent. “And I go in to give you a peck, and you grab my arms and stick your entire tongue in my mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Demetri!”

He feels something wet dribbling down his face, and wonders if the cut on his cheek got stretched wider in his and Demetri’s scuffle. It’s certainly stinging enough for it.

Unless…

Hawk wishes he could dissolve.

“I told you I’d kiss you a thousand more times if you wanted.” Demetri’s voice has grown sharper than his blade. “And I would have. And for a long while, I thought there might be the most infinitesimal possibility that you felt something, too. Now I know I was right.”

He laughs, the sound acrid and bitter and full of flint.

“Because even after everything, you’re still obsessed with me. You watch me across the lunchroom and pretend you’re ‘monitoring the enemy,’ but I know you miss me. You miss when I made you laugh, and you miss when I talked to people so you didn’t have to. You chase me around in every battle, but when it comes right down to it, you can’t hurt me in any significant way until you’re bullied into it. You pick fights with me so you can put your hands all over my body and not have anyone look at you askance for it.”

“FUCK YOU!”

Maybe if he screams loud enough, Demetri won’t pay too much attention to the wet trails smearing the blood from his cuts.

Caustic breath is hovering inches above Hawk, misting onto his lips. Still, he refuses to open his eyes.

“It must be exhausting, you know,” Demetri whispers. “Living your life in denial like that. Wearing your entire personality like some cheap Halloween costume and convincing yourself that’s a fulfilling existence. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Hawk growls. “I do whatever I like. It’s not my fault you don’t like who I really am.”

“Who you really are, hmmm?” Demetri’s lips brush his earlobe, voice a barely-audible murmur. “So tell me the truth then, Eli. Do you still want me?”

The bluntness of the question almost blows a hole in his composure.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Stop fucking lying!”

All at once, Demetri’s voice is a deafening, furious scream again. The knife slices Hawk’s jaw.

Not enough to do any real harm, but enough to really hurt. Hawk freezes, held prisoner by the burst of sharp, sudden pain.

“It’s always lies, lies, lies with you,” Demetri snarls. “Fake name. Fake hair color. Fake personality. Fake interests. Fake friends who only kiss the ground you walk on because they’ve never seen you at your weakest. Fake relationships with girls you barely let know you—to the point you think they’d leave you for liking to code. And the absolute drivel you feed yourself that this goddamn farce is what you want to live in forever. You think you’re starring in some martial arts epic, and you’re so wrapped up in your stupid method acting that you never want to step offscreen. Like everyone’s on the edge of their seat about your pitiful life like it’s the fucking Truman Show. And at the end of the day? You’re still too much of a pussy to tell me the truth.”

Hawk’s skin tingles, shivers rippling through him. If his heart was pounding before, it’s thundering now.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like fear. He’s used to this new version of Demetri enough not to cower from him.

No, it’s something far worse. And Demetri knows it.

“You can’t hide from me.” The other boy’s tone drips with haughtiness, savoring the ability to confirm Hawk’s worst fears. “I see right through your bullshit. I always have. So I’ll ask you one more time. Do you want me?”

The knife slides down to Hawk’s throat again, pressing firmly.

“Lie and I’ll kill you.”

He’s probably bluffing. Maybe. Surely.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter anymore. Sprawled out on his childhood bed, underneath the only other person he frequently shared it with.

The person he used to watch sleep, wondering wistfully if the freak with the lip scar ever made it into his best friend’s dreams.

He opens his eyes and finally meets Demetri’s gaze, in all of its searing, insurmountable beauty.

“Yeah.”

He breathes it out quiet and fragile—a soft promise. A rare moment of openness that he lets free of his unbreakable shell.

Demetri drops the knife. It falls behind the bed, thumping onto the carpet below.

He swoops down, seizing Hawk’s neck and yanking him up. When their mouths meet, Hawk is nearly thrown back with the force of it.

Demetri kisses like a starved animal, lapping and nipping in a crazed frenzy. The weight of his muscle-toned body is crushing, locking Hawk firmly against the mattress.

He tastes like blood and cold steel and cruelty. Hawk shudders.

This time, he’s certain it isn’t fear. It’s a rush he only thought he could get from smashing his fists against plastic or skin, or feeling another person’s body go limp and lifeless underneath his.

And it’s ironic. The more Demetri tries to devour Hawk, the more Hawk wants to let it happen.

There’s an odd satisfaction to it, he thinks. Being completely at someone else’s mercy.

And Demetri isn’t fighting with any.

***

OKAY, time for some #authorrants because I feel like some of the choices I made in this fic are. Controversial, to say the least. Lmao.

So something that has bugged the crap out of me for a while now is people in this fandom acting like there is any world where Demetri would choose Robby over Miguel. I remember after S3 dropped, there was a lot of "dId tHeY fOrGeT tHe dEmEtRi-rObBy FrIeNdShIp" type sentiment floating around irt why Demetri didn't stay in contact with Robby the way Sam and the LaRussos did. Maybe it's because, I don't know, Robby threw the guy Demetri never actually stopped being close friends with over a balcony and almost killed him???

Like. Not that these showrunners don't ever forget things, but this absolutely is not one of them. Robby paralyzing Miguel is a BEYOND valid reason to sever ties with him, especially when you were just casual dojo bros for a couple months tops. When push came to shove, Demetri pretty unequivocally CHOSE MIGUEL. He brought him a comic book in the hospital! He was thrilled to see him back at school and picked up their friendship right where it left off! He DOES NOT VISIBLY FORGIVE ROBBY UNTIL MIGUEL DOES! Idk idk it just really riles me when people do not take Demetri and Miguel's friendship into account when discussing the Demetri-Robby relationship and why they stopped being friends when they did. Tbh I don't think it's that hot of a take to assume Demetri would have more loyalty to the guy who befriended him when he was a nobody and proceeded to be one of his closest ride-or-die friends for a whole-ass year over the guy he was casual buds with because they happened to share a karate instructor -_____- I could go on about this for several more paragraphs, but that's a rant for another day.

(As far as the LaRussos go, they were all closer to Robby and were basically his adoptive family, which is why they--particularly Sam--were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say the Miguel thing was an accident. Demetri didn't know Robby well enough to make that call, and had no actual proof it WAS an accident except for maybe Sam's word.)

Some other things to ramble about:

I remember in some interview a while back (I think with Martin Kove?) someone asked about Hawk and Marty or whoever was being interviewed said he was "on his way to being a serial killer" or smth. And Jacob's talked a little bit about the kind of escalating delinquent shit Hawk would get up to if he was never redeemed, etc. So going with that: Bold of y'all to assume the kid simping for Hawk since episode 1 wouldn't renounce his morals and join him on the path to villainy. Sorry but I truly believe Demetri's horniness for Hawk can and would win out over any ethical qualms in the end. Also Demetri is horny for violence and evil this is canon otherwise he would in fact not have simped for S3 Hawk so PAINFULLY BADLY god bless

Also this was partly inspired by those post-S3 jokes that were like "lol what happened to Brucks??? Did Hawk kill him???"...well, what if he did, tho? O_____O

Disclaimer that I promise I do not endorse the Tory slut-shaming!!! Tbh I didn't really wanna write it, but...I think given the circumstances, Hawk WOULD be pretty furious at her for getting chummy with Robby and "betraying" Miguel. And unfortunately, since he's a teenage boy with (canonical!) misogynistic tendencies...I do think that would most likely come across as slut-shaming D: But y'all have brains y'all know I don't condone everything I write about aknhdksuyhf (Murder is probably not something you should try at home either btw)

Hopefully I didn't make Hawk too weaksauce in this ^^; My excuses are a) I suck at writing fight scenes and tend to just want to get to the psychosexual dialogue and knife-teasing, so. If I rushed anything to get there I apologize. b) Going by the school fight, Hawk is indeed thrown off when Demetri takes the offensive (especially in a super dramatic kind of way) and his confused pause is in fact enough time for Demetri to get an advantage and c) The man is thrown off his game!!! Thrown off his groove, even!!! His sissy pussy nerd ex-friend shows up acting like a disturbed maniac and he is so O_____o about it that his moves are off!!! He's sucking a little but it's not his fault 💔It's Demetri's for subverting expectations 💔

I also feel like if Demetri started McFucking Losing It and was generally less grounded in the physical and rational world, physical pain wouldn't register quite as much. Like he's in his head enough now that he's kinda lost his grip on reality and things happening in the physical world don't seem as relevant or immediate, if that makes any sense? Also idk. Maybe after the arm break his pain tolerance just went up :O Anyways that's why he recovers pretty fast when Hawk DOES land a hit. Demetri is nuts now 💙

I will die on my hill that Demetri like. Really REALLY isn't as morally upstanding as people like to think XD Like I say this with love but from the top he's been a self-interested little shit who just happens to be extremely loyal to the very small handful of people he actually likes. My dudes, he didn't join Miyagi Do because he liked their philosophy better--he joined because they were less on board with punching him in particular in the face XD This dude saw Cobra Kai being fucks and playing dirty at the AVT and he STILL up and says "I wanna come back because I like the 'safety in numbers' aspect of joining a gang" XD I always got the vibe the "well at least I'm not an asshole LIKE YOU" he throws at Eli later is more because he likes to feel self-righteous. I say all of this as his biggest fan btw. I think more people should embrace the self-interested king he is and write about him and Eli being absolute dicks together instead of to each other 💖

I guess that's what I'm here for!!!

Anyways I think Demetri and Eli have the same potential to be absolutely horrific people, and I think we're all very lucky that Demetri was too lazy to challenge his comfort zone and stick with Cobra Kai XD We're very fortunate he happened to end up using his speed and his brains to help his friends who happened to be on the Good Guy Side rather than his friends who happened to be on the Bad Guy Side.

I also think people put WAY too much stock in Demetri's ability to staunchly stick with the good guys and have enough of a moral backbone to just keep opposing Eli's douchebaggery indefinitely. My mans is NOT that much of a saint, trust. From how quickly he forgave Eli for a HUGE number of atrocities, he seemed to be like. Waiting on his ass for Eli to come back to him. And if Eli never did???

I mean. Bruh. Someone you've been deeply in love with for years throws you out like last night's trash and just progressively starts being more and more awful to you??? You think it's feasible for my boy Demetri to stay strong and sane and reasonable forever, and just keep on fighting the good fight??? HELL NO. This dude is either a) quitting karate and moving schools so he doesn't have to deal with constantly being pummeled by the dude he's in love with or b) going completely fucking insane from the cognitive dissonance of being in love with a dude who constantly beats his ass.

Listen. I have been in love. If my friend who I was in love with turned evil and joined an evil karate school and started wailing on me all the time, I would either pull an Aisha and haul ass out of there or I would simply lose my mind and become evil. Go full Jinx from Arcane. Sorry if you're a hater who doesn't think Demetri Alexopoulos has it in him to go apeshit, but you're wrong and also boring. The funny kooky comic relief guys are always one thread away from losing their shit because everyone assumes because they're funny and kooky they have no depth and no end to their bullshit tolerance. I would know because I am one of these Guys in real life. Put some respecc on my boy's name and also give him another knife 🔪

For anyone looking at me askance like "Demetri doesn't have it in him to kill!" Yes he does. I'm sending him over to your house to stab you right now 🩵

No fr tho, like there was MURDER in this man's eyes when Kyler was bullying Eli in the library. There was MURDER in this man's eyes fighting Robby at the AVT in S4. I have full confidence that if he could get away with stabbing his enemies, he would. So would Eli but I feel like this is a less contested opinion.

Also this is interesting so it's something I might go into detail about in another post, but one thing I noticed while kinda brainstorming how Demetri would snap is that Demetri is loyal to people, while Eli is loyal to concepts and ideas.

Demetri I don't think is actually that married to or slavish about MD principles tbh. Demetri isn't really averse to violence conceptually (even back in S1 it's only ever about him disliking BEING hit, not disliking hitting people!!) and doesn't actually do the defense-only thing that often. Several times we see him instigate with Hawk, or help Sam instigate with CK in general. The times we see him stick his neck out to really help Miyagi Do, he seems like he's doing so more out of loyalty to his friends (namely Sam, Chris, and Nate--also Miguel irt the dojo team-up at the end of S3) than loyalty to Miyagi Do as a dojo.

Eli, meanwhile, is way more loyal to concepts he puts a lot of stock in than the people in his life who challenge this. He sees Cobra Kai as this almighty saving grace that is for LIFE, and he doesn't think twice about ditching Demetri and Miguel when they turn their backs on it. He stays in this dojo even as his friends leave and it fills up with people he hates, and his sensei dismisses and ignores his concerns. Because this dojo saved him from his horrible, bullied life, and now he feels like he owes everything to the Cobra Kai name, despite who's actually behind the name. Also why I think Demetri uses "my karate dojo needs your help!" as the selling point to get Eli to join MD in S4. HIS motivation is probably much more that he just wants him and Eli to stay together, but he knows Eli values dojo loyalty above everything, so Dem kinda makes it more about that than friendship.

Anyways! That's all for now! The whole fic should be up on my AO3 sometime in December :3

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vimesbootstheory · 2 months

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CK S6 Pt1 Thoughts

Do we still call this "the cut" or did we leave that behind on LJ? Anyway the thoughts are under the cut. I haven't looked at anyone else's thoughts yet, no idea whether this is echo chamber stuff or if I watched a different show than the rest of you.

Overall I honestly had a blast, I'm probably gonna talk more here about stuff I disliked but that's because positive stuff kept me glued to the screen while negative stuff sent me to vent in the notes doc I had open in another window lol

Eagle Fang was Johnny's thing, not an extension of Kreese's Cobra Kai, and I was so angry at the show for not understanding that that I burst into tears

I continue to think that the big cast is spreading character work too thin, such that most characters were either made much less interesting than they have been in previous seasons (e.g. Daniel, Miguel) or were given too little time with the character work they had (e.g. Robby, Kenny) or both.

Characters I made particular note of who are now boring: Daniel, Amanda, Sam, Hawk.

I was surprised in particular how Daniel was given virtually no character work other than this token Miyagi thing. I prefer when Daniel's a bitch. Daniel being The Reasonable One is incredibly boring.

We kinda got slutty gi back? In hallucination form? Briefly?

This was a hard realization: I don't think I ship Daniel/Johnny in these episodes. I'm still absolutely bonkers for them in previous seasons (1-4 mostly) and in the fandom sphere but honestly I wanted Johnny away from Daniel most of the time in s6e1-5. I found it really off-putting how much Daniel was trying to change Johnny into someone he's not.

Fave new character was Kwon. Enjoyably silly. I like his anime hair.

Delighted that Jarmen baby is a girl, even more delighted that the topic of the baby was pretty backgrounded, didn't spend a lot of time on it.

I am filled with incandescent rage that they neutered SamTory; it was weird rooting for Johnny's terrible strategies to make them frenemies instead of friends. But it looks like they're not quite done yet so I'm gonna cool my heels on this point.

Team Captain nepo babies lol. I would be so pissed if I were any of the other Miyagi-Do students.

Loved Johnny championing his female students. In an ideal world I would not have had a little voice at the back of my head wishing he'd spend the same kind of quality time with Robby (How about some Robby time? Robby? Robby now? Johnny and Robby?); nevertheless for what it was, I still really like Johnny supporting Devon and (to a lesser extent) Tory. Meanwhile Daniel over here in his sexist era I guess, ok. Like he really only wanted to send his daughter and no other girls.

Peyton List is the part-season's MVP, obviously obviously. She was so great. Kicked ass, kicked acting's ass. Tory was probably the meatiest character of the season, too, though that's not saying a ton.

My worst fears were not realized re: Johnny's character. He still isn't the fully-realized guy he was in early seasons, but relative to other characters, he's having a pretty OK season IMO. Knock on wood.

I was unexpectedly all riled up on Anthony's behalf. Why does he HAVE to get into karate? Why does he have to be Daniel 2.0? At least this was addressed textually.

So pissed on Kenny's behalf. Justice for Kenny. He deserved one of the top 6 spots. He got poo pants instead. Jesus Christ.

Loved the Lawrence vs Barnes fight, very metal, excellent choreo, love watching Zabka move. I would bet the cobros are lighting up at having an answer on that particular head-to-head.

This has been a running thing with Cobra Kai for a while, but I'm not even sure how I as an audience member was supposed to see Johnny's current teaching style? Honestly I loved his day of blended-style lessons. Obviously broken glass in the koi pond is not a great idea. But like. Jesus Christ, Daniel, katas HAVE STRIKES. WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT.

Did they really just write Chozen out without any goodbyes? :(((

Daniel's ego flare-up and "I'm the boss" moment, contender for only interesting aspect to his character in these five eps. Hell yea hell yea. Show some goddamn teeth Daniel LaRusso.

One thing I think CK excels at and has always excelled at is keeping the stakes up for tournament-style fights, such that more often than not, I can't tell just through narrative signposting who's going to win. Robby vs Miguel in particular was a nail-biter. I did a full-body arm-pump when Robby won. Though the stakes were weird because it's not as someone can't win in Barcelona if they're not a captain? That was confusing and makes me think it's going to be their way of doling out successes across the main four kids. Like Robby and Sam for the captains, and then Miguel will win, presumably Tory too when she flip-flops back to team good guys again.

Interesting acting/directing/writing (idk which) choice during Robby vs Miguel, Johnny visibly rooting for Robby.

I love that Johnny brought up losing his mum when Tory's mum died, but I really hope they get the chance to bond over it at some point.

The fuckin magic jewel bottle cap got me so bad. Resourceful DIY toys is poor person realness and it was so cute and heartbreaking.

It's weird that new!CK got into the tournament because it's clearly not really the same dojo, so they haven't really qualified.

I'm so pumped about Kreese being the main villain. That was true before the season began and I still feel that way.

I'm excited for part 2!

#cobra kai #cobra kai spoilers #ck spoilers

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karatekels · 1 year

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A request with KK3 Terry please and make it as dark/non-con as possible! But OFC always make changes if you have to cause I’d enjoy it no matter what.

I thought of Daniel who warns reader to not go see Terry again cause he actually caught on that she likes him. (I thought this happens right after the events where Miyagi fought Terry & Kreese). She’s shocked to hear about it since she did come to trust Terry and even look up to him. But she listens to her friend (at first). I thought that later she’d get into a dangerous situation at night close by the dojo where a group of men follow her and her first instinct is to go to the dojo in hope of Terry, even after Daniel’s warning. She’s obviously scared and is already imagining the worst things in her head. Thankfully Terry’s there to save her in the last moment and even offers to take care of her since she seems so shaken by it. What she didn’t expect is that it’ll get only worse with him and he expects some kind of “reward” from her for always treating her so nicely, even “going out of his way” to save her, and simply bc he’s had enough of waiting 👀 Make sure to make him cruel enough when he forces himself on her and that he even says smth like “Maybe you should’ve listened to Danny-boy.” (implying that he was there, hiding & watching when Daniel informed her about it). She gives in partway. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance anyway. Also make him throw some comments at her maybe about how pathetic she is, but that he still wants her and only her and she’ll always be his (or whatever else comes to ur mind). And that even when she enjoyed it by the end, she still feels dirty and used. Somewhat empty even and heartbroken. Your goal: Make me cry a bit for her okay

We are starting out the month living up to the title of Dark Desires October with this one! Today also marks the 1 year anniversary of this blog, so HOORAY!

This will be in two parts, and the actual non-con will happen in the next part (though there is attempted sexual assault in this chapter as well). If that’s not something you want to read, I would recommend sitting this one out!

For the rest of you degenerates who are still here… I hope you enjoy.

TW: attempted assault; assault; attempted sexual assault; attempted rape; violence; will lead to non-con in part 2

---

Unjust Reward: Chapter 1

---

At 10:02 in the morning, an insistent knocking starts at your front door. You giggle quietly, calmly finishing putting your shoes on. Your neighbour and friend (it was weird, calling a 17 year-old a friend when you were in your early twenties, but it was true), Daniel LaRusso, had called late last night, leaving a message on your answering machine. He had sounded panicked, saying that he needed to talk to you as soon as possible and would be coming over in the morning. Calling and leaving your own message, you had amended that to 10AM today.

It wasn’t that you weren’t taking whatever Danny was worried about seriously, but the kid had a tendency to be overdramatic and blow things out of proportion. You weren’t sure if it was a guy thing, a kid thing, or a karate thing, but Daniel always seemed to be on edge about some situation or another.

Grabbing your bag and your sunglasses, you head for the front door, opening it suddenly and catching Daniel’s fist half-raised in the air. You see the cuts and bruising on his knuckles, and hope that they weren’t from pounding on the door. He had been training very intensely with Terry Silver, a new sensei that had come to the Valley a couple of weeks ago, so it was probably from that.

Sensei Terry Silver…

You were kind of crazy about him.

He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome; nearly six and a half feet tall and strong, with long black hair and bright blue eyes. He had a wicked smile and positively oozed charm, to the point that you were frequently tongue-tied in his presence. Terry was very hands-on with his training, based on what you’d seen when you’d come by the dojo to meet Daniel after a training session. You’d found yourself jealous of the boy on more than one occasion, watching Terry’s hands adjust his hips and help him stretch.

“Calm down, Danny! Where’s the fire?” you joke, looking at him with a smile that he doesn’t return. Instead, he grabs your wrist, urgently tugging you towards him.

“Come on, Y/N – we need to talk, it’s important!” he hisses, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Should we go inside?” you ask, holding your front door ajar, but he shakes his head.

“No, we gotta find somewhere he doesn’t know about; he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Who does?” He just shakes his head, refusing to answer you, and you’re starting to get really worried about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You close and lock the door, letting him drag you down the street by the arm. You don’t see how anywhere outside could be more private than your own home, especially seeing as he was likely drawing attention by tugging at your wrist like this, but you knew how difficult it was to talk Daniel out of something when he had set his mind to it.

After a few blocks, you head into a local park, finding an unoccupied bench in a clearing. He gestures for you to sit but doesn’t join you on the bench, instead pacing back and forth in front of you and looking around intently.

“Okay, we should be safe to talk here; we can see if anyone tries to listen in.”

“Daniel, what is going on?” you demand, mildly frustrated by all of the theatrics but mostly concerned about what the source of his panic was.

“It’s Mr. Silver.”

“Is something wrong with Terry? Is he hurt?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought. Terry was big, and strong, and a professional martial artist; if something had hurt him, then it was definitely something to be feared. But Daniel shakes his head.

“No, he’s not hurt; he’s the problem. He’s dangerous!”

“Danny, he’s helping you train for the tournament. Was he just being hard on you?” you ask soothingly, feeling relieved. This was closer to what you had anticipated: Daniel blowing something out of proportion.

“No, listen!” he cries, though he’s trying to keep his voice down. He sounds like that dangerous mix of angry and scared that caused men to be unpredictable, and it has you nervous. “Y/N, I… I can tell that you like Mr. Silver a lot,” he says knowingly, and you blush, feeling like you were being told about ‘the birds and the bees’ by a kid. Had you been that obvious about your feelings for Terry?

“Please don’t go see him again. He’s not good for you; he’s not good for anyone. Listen…”

Daniel’s eyes are wide and scared, and you feel yourself shiver as he describes what had happened at the Cobra Kai dojo last night. Terry had made up everything; Kreese dying, being a down-on-his-luck sensei, wanting to train Danny so he could protect himself… The whole thing had been a nest of lies, part of a plan to get revenge on a teenager for winning a karate tournament.

It was ridiculous; it was insane. It was unbelievable… wasn’t it?

You think back to your own experiences with Terry. You’d been completely speechless the first time he’d come over and spoken to you while Daniel had been changing into his regular clothes. He had looked at you with such intensity, even if he had given you a charming smile the whole time. You’d tried to make small talk with him, and despite how awkward you felt around him, something about him kept drawing you in day after day. It was like you were addicted to the discomfort, the nervousness that you felt around him. He was like one of those Venus flytraps; he looked dangerous, but was still so alluring that prey found itself coming closer anyway, until the trap snapped shut.

As much as you didn’t want to believe it, you could see Terry as someone dangerous, hiding beneath a façade. And, if Mr. Miyagi had fought him, then this wasn’t just Daniel being overdramatic. This was serious.

Your heart clenches once, painfully; you didn’t really know Terry that well, sure. But you had really wanted to. It was like saying goodbye to a relationship that had never really begun, and as this had been the first time you had really felt strongly for someone as an adult, it hurt all the more.

But you had no reason to not believe Daniel’s words, and you would not be a fly caught in a trap.

“Danny, I… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry he hurt you, and I’m sorry I didn’t see him for what he was. I’m so glad that you’re alright,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. Daniel was such a small kid, and Terry was a big guy – if he had wanted to, he could’ve really hurt the boy, or worse.

“Please tell me you won’t go see him again,” he begs, and you can hear the fear in his voice. Poor kid; this had really done a number on him.

“I won’t, Danny. I promise. But there’s still something I don’t understand: why couldn’t you have told me this in my apartment?”

“Oh. That.” Daniel says morosely, pulling out a few pages of a magazine out of his jeans pocket and handing them to you.

Smoothing them out, you see that the man being written about in the article is… Terry. But, instead of the humble, down-to-earth man you’d come to (sort-of) know, he was photographed in expensive-looking suits and (in your opinion) gaudy jewelry.

“He’s not some broke guy; he’s a billionaire. And Mike Barnes? Snake, and Dennis? He’s working with them; actually, they’re working for him.”

“He hired a bunch of teenaged goons to attack you?! You and Jessica?!” you shriek, glad that the girl had gone home to Ohio. What kind of monster paid people to harass children?!

“He’s got people everywhere, and he’s a good liar, and he’s a war vet, like Kreese was… is.” Clearly, that man’s death being a hoax was taking some time for the boy to adjust to in his head. “My uncle told me that guys that fought in Vietnam, a lot of them are… messed up.”

You nod sharply, pressing your mouth into a thin line. Terry was dangerous in many ways: a martial artist, a large man, a billionaire with infinite resources… mix in PTSD from the War and he had the potential to be a real monster. You shudder again.

“You’re right, Daniel. We should both stay away from him.”

Daniel’s head snaps up as the sound of a branch snapping comes from the treeline. Before you can reach out to stop him, he sprints towards the source of the noise with a yell, tearing through trees as if he expects Terry or one of his goons to be hiding among the leaves.

“Daniel, stop!” you cry out, quickly moving over to him and dragging him away from the trees. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you lock eyes with him. “There’s no one there, okay? And this is a park, in the middle of the day; no one is going to hurt us here.”

His chest is heaving as he tries to take deep, calming breaths, but he’s still very much on edge. Eventually, his shoulders slump, and you feel like you can let him go without him charging off to fight something.

“Listen to me, Daniel. Terry is probably very dangerous; you’re right about that. He isn’t someone that you can fight against and win. And I’m not saying that because you’re not a great fighter,” you say when he opens his mouth to protest, “I’m saying it because he isn’t going to play by the rules. You could get hurt, or worse. You have to promise me you’ll stay away from him, and keep yourself safe.”

“B-But, what if he –” he stutters, and you interrupt him, knowing just how to nip his desire to play hero in the bud.

“He might not stop at you, Daniel,” you point out, clenching your hands into fists to keep your body from trembling at the thought. “He could go after Mr. Miyagi, or me, or anyone. Best to not let him get to you; he’s like a ticking time bomb, and we don’t know what could set him off. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble; stay with Mr. Miyagi as often as you can. I’m sure he’ll ease up after the tournament.”

Daniel’s forehead creases, and there’s a stubborn look in his eye, but he relents after a moment.

“Okay, fine. And you’ll stay safe too, right?”

“Yes, Danny – I promise. I won’t go near him or that dojo again.”

Daniel lets out a sigh of relief, and insists on accompanying you to the grocery store on your walk home.

“Daniel, you may be taking this a bit too far,” you tease as he helps you carry your things.

“Gotta keep you safe,” he huffs, having insisted on taking the heavier items.

“If anything, this is making me less safe, Daniel. After all, I’m not the karate champion; he’s not after me! You're just putting a target on my back,” you joke, but the boy seems insistent on taking this very seriously. You suppose that that’s better than the alternative.

He walks you to your door, ignoring your protests.

“Thank you, Daniel.” You’re grateful for the help, and the concern, but you had never been someone who liked relying on the support of others. “Now, please don’t do anything silly like risk yourself trying to stand guard, alright? I’m going to be fine.” You’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Fine, fine. I’ll give you a call tonight though, alright?” Daniel insists, and you agree, parting ways for the day as you seal yourself in your apartment.

---

You spend the afternoon cleaning the apartment and watching TV, trying not to dwell on what Daniel had told you. You make sure to double-check that every window is locked as you move from room to room, cleaning thoroughly; it was a good way to work off all of this nervous energy.

The fact that Daniel didn’t think you were safe to talk in your own apartment has you on edge. Terry didn’t know where you lived – even if Daniel had told him you used to be neighbours in the now-demolished apartment building, he shouldn’t know where you lived now. And even if he did, it’s not like he could get inside… right?

By the time you’ve eaten dinner and done the dishes, you’re feeling more comfortable in your home again, and decide to relax further by running yourself a nice bath. You sink into the hot water and bubbles, letting the tension from the day escape you, closing your eyes…

The phone rings from the other room, startling you. You glare through the doorway at the offending noise. Daniel had said he was going to call you, but surely you could just call him back when you were out of the bath.

You decide to let the phone ring out, and hear your voice on the answering machine, telling the caller to leave a message after the ‘beep.’ The machine beeps, and there’s silence for a long moment.

“Hello, Y/N.”

The bath water suddenly feels ice cold. That wasn’t Danny.

“It’s Terry Silver.”

He didn’t need to introduce himself; you’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“You haven’t come by the dojo in a few days; I’ve missed seeing that pretty face. You know that we have a lot to talk about, and we should. You know where to find me.”

The message ends there, and you curl into a ball in the tub, resting your forehead on your knees as you force yourself to take deep, steady breaths. Your body is covered in goosebumps, though the water is still steaming.

Why was Terry calling you? Why was he acting like everything was fine? If you two had a lot to talk about, then he had assumed that Daniel had told you what he’d done, and should know that you wouldn’t want to talk to him about it. So was he just calling to scare you?

Taking a deep breath, you force your body to move, pulling the stopper out of the drain and standing up; there was no way you’d be able to enjoy the bath now. You dry off and head to your bedroom, rooting around your dresser for your winter pyjamas – you were freezing, despite the hot bath and it being the middle of the summer. Maybe some tea would help…

You walk into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil. Selecting a sleepy time teabag from your collection, you open the cupboard and grab a mug, moving back to the stove.

The phone rings again and you yelp, dropping your cup on the floor where it shatters. Ignoring the mess for the moment, you reach over and move the kettle off the element before gingerly hopping onto the counter, not wanting to get glass on your bare feet. Sitting next to the phone now, you find that you can’t move away from it as it continues to ring. Would it be him again?

The machine plays your voice again, the beep sounding ominous. You hold your breath, your gaze locked on the answering machine.

“Y/N?! Are you –”

You scramble to pick up the phone, feeling overwhelmed with relief.

“Hey Danny! Yes, I’m fine,” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you pick up?” he demands, clearly worried that you’re not taking this seriously enough.

“I wanted to make sure it was you first, and not Terry calling.” Well, that was true, at least…

“Oh. That’s… that’s a really smart idea,” Daniel says, sounding appeased. “So, everything was normal today?”

“Yeah, I guess, all things considered…” You would not be telling him about Terry calling; it was exactly the type of thing that would have him camping out outside your front door, determined to protect you.

“And everything is alright with you and Mr. Miyagi? No goons ruining the shop or stealing the bonsais?”

“Yeah, nothing happened today. But we can’t let our guard down!”

You hum in agreement; you don’t think you’ll be letting your guard down any time soon.

You agree to check in with Daniel regularly over the next few days; there was only a week or so before the tournament, and hopefully all of this would blow over after that.

You sleep fitfully with the bedroom light on, though you’re not sure how exactly this makes you feel safer.

***

You’re on your way home from work a few days later, hopping off the bus at the stop closest to your house. It was late, and the streets were pretty much deserted in Reseda at this time of night. Your car was in the shop, and you forgot how much longer it took to get home by bus. But it was only a twenty minute walk or so to your apartment, so you aren’t worried.

That is, you weren’t worried until five minutes or so into your trek home.

A low whistle comes from behind you, and you jump, turning to look back even though you know you shouldn’t. A group of four men are following you, maybe fifty feet away. They’d been very quiet up to this point, but now that you’ve spotted them they are getting more rowdy, laughing and shoving each other.

“Look at that; she stopped when you whistled! What a well-trained, pretty little thing,” one of them comments, pitching his voice to carry over to you.

You turn back around, picking up your pace as quickly as you can without breaking into a run, scanning the area for a sign of someone else nearby who might be able to help. You hear the men laugh behind you, and they sound a lot closer.

“Where are you going, beautiful?”

“Why don’t you come have a drink with us; we’ll show you a good time!”

You come up to an intersection, and still, no one else is around. You have a decision to make. It was eight blocks to Daniel and Mr. Miyagi, six blocks to your apartment or… three blocks to the Cobra Kai dojo.

You veer right, sprinting down the street towards the dojo, tears blurring your vision, your heart racing as your feet pound the pavement; you hear one of them shout and can hear them coming after you. Even if Terry hated Daniel, even if he hated you, there was no way he was enough of a monster to stand by and let these men attack you. Please, let him still be there…

You’ve made it two blocks, but you can hear them getting closer, and even with the adrenaline pumping through you, you’re quickly starting to get tired, your breath burning in your throat. You try to push yourself further, you’re almost there… and you roll your ankle, making you stumble to the ground with a yelp.

You make to scramble to your feet, the skin on your palms and your knees burning as the night air hits the fresh scrapes, but quickly find yourself surrounded by the men.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself?” one asks mockingly, smirking down at you.

“Come with me, baby. I’ll take real good care of you,” leers another, making to grab your arm.

“Stay away from me,” you say weakly, your voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. It feels like your throat is closing up; you can’t scream, you can barely breathe.

One comes behind you, forcing his hands underneath your arms to pull you to your feet, and something about him touching you sets you off. You kick back with your leg, hitting him in the knee, making him let go of you; you send an elbow into his stomach and he lets out a pained grunt.

You move to run again – you were only a few doors away from the dojo – but a hand fists in your hair and shoves you over to a slab of raised concrete that housed a few plants. The hand at the back of your head pushes you down, bending you over the concrete, and you hit your head hard on the rough concrete, right on your browbone above one of your eyes and making you cry out with pain.

You’re pulled up by your hair again with a whimper, the man holding you pressing himself against your back.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous – did I hurt you?” he asks, his tone patronizing. “Here, let’s give that pretty little head of yours a softer spot to rest.”

He bends you over the concrete again, this time pushing you face first in the dirt. The men howl and jeer at your position, goading the other man as he holds both your wrists behind your back in his free hand. He grinds his hips against your butt, and you realize with a sickening feeling that he’s hard.

“Please, please don’t!” you beg, trying to make yourself heard as your voice is muffled by the dirt.

“Let me at her first,” growls a man from the side. “The little bitch deserves what’s coming to her for attacking me.”

Your pleas are completely drowned out as the men start to argue, closing in on you as you’re pinned down, their hands grabbing at your clothes. You can’t see, you can’t move, and your heart is thudding so loudly in your ears that you can barely hear.

And then one of them screams.

You’re paralyzed with fear, even as the man holding you down releases you, and you hear the sounds of fighting all around you as you slowly manage to push yourself off the dirt, curling into a ball on the ground. You know you should run away, but you just can’t.

After what seems like forever, you hear footsteps approaching you in the now silent night. Burying your face further in your knees, your whole body trembles.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name startles you enough to look up, and your eyes meet the familiar blue of Terry’s. Even crouched down on the ground next to you, you still have to crane your neck to look up at him. You breathe a sigh of relief; your intuition had been right. Terry had saved you.

“T-Terry?” you stammer, quickly moving from feeling numb to feeling very overwhelmed. “Oh G-God, Terry! They… they…” Your face crumples as you let out an anguished sob, curling up into a ball again and hiding your face.

You feel his large, warm hand touch your upper arm, trying to offer you comfort without startling you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” he murmurs soothingly. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got a first-aid kit, I’ll help patch you up. That’s quite a gash on your forehead.”

You whimper, but force yourself to nod, and he gently helps you to your feet. Looking around, you see two of the men collapsed on the sidewalk, the other two nowhere to be found. Still, the sight of them has you trembling so hard you’re worried you’ll fall over.

“Ssshh, it’s alright. They can’t hurt you anymore. Can you walk?”

You bob your head jerkily and move to walk the short distance to the dojo, but you stumble almost immediately. Before you even come close to hitting the ground, Terry has caught you, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you bridal style over to Cobra Kai. He doesn’t put you down once you reach the front door, merely shifting you so that he has a free hand to open the door and taking you inside.

Walking past the large training area, Terry takes you to a back office, somewhere you’ve never been before. He sets you down on a cot – you knew that he had stayed somewhat regularly in the dojo, or at least, that’s what he’d told you – and orders you to stay put, leaving you alone in the room.

You sit up, leaning against the wall, trying not to cry. This has put you in a very awkward and potentially dangerous situation; just because Terry had saved you from a terrible fate didn’t mean that everything you now knew about him stopped being true. He was still unpredictable, unstable, violent… and possibly very upset with you.

You had to get out of there.

Before you even manage to climb off the bed, Terry is back, looming in the doorway with an armful of things. You freeze, and he comes around to the side of the cot, kneeling in front of you.

“I locked the doors, just to be safe. No one can get in here, I promise,” he reassures you in a soothing voice as he looks through the first-aid kit. You feel yourself start to relax despite your better judgement. Looking at the ground, you see that in addition to the first-aid kit he’s brought over the top of a karate gi, an empty bowl, a bottle of water, and a small towel.

“What’s all that for?” you ask quietly, your voice cracking as you speak. Terry looks up at your face before following your gaze to the objects on the floor.

“You have dirt all over your face; I want to make sure to clean you up so that your cut doesn’t get infected,” he replies calmly, filling the bowl with the water and dipping the towel to get it damp. “And the gi is for you; I thought you might be cold, especially if you go into shock.”

He picks it up, tossing it around your shoulders and loosely tying it at your waist. You slip your arms into the sleeves; it’s far too large for you, and as you take in a deep breath you notice that it smells like Terry. This must be one of his. Despite your better judgement, the scent has you relaxing slightly.

“It looks good on you,” he comments with a comforting smile, and you feel yourself blush. You force yourself to remember what Daniel had told you; you can’t let your guard down around him.

He lifts the damp towel to your face, and your eyes flutter closed as he wipes the dirt and blood away. The cloth presses against your cut and you let out a whimper that makes Terry murmur an apology. He was being so gentle with you.

Once he’s finished with the towel, you open your eyes, and his face is much closer to yours than you had anticipated it being. He takes your chin in his hand, staring at your face intently, and your whole body is rigid with tension.

“I don’t think you need stitches,” he informs you quietly after a moment. “A bandage will be fine. I’ll need to disinfect it, and that will probably hurt a bit, okay?”

You hesitate, again finding it difficult to speak, but eventually give him a nod.

“Lay down.”

“What? Why?” you ask, leaning away from him as you start to panic. He shushes you again, but it’s less comforting than the last time he did it.

“I don’t want the disinfectant getting in your eye is all,” he coos, his hands gentle but firm as he guides your body to the side and lays you on your back on the bed. You force yourself to take deep breaths.

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter the apology, hoping you haven’t offended him for some reason.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction,” he murmurs, rifling through the first-aid kit. “You just had a traumatic experience, after all,” he adds after a moment. “Okay, this is gonna sting. Do you want to squeeze my hand?” he asks, offering it to you.

You set your mouth in a firm line, your body tense in anticipation of the pain, and grab fistfuls of the blanket beneath you in both hands. Terry doesn’t seem at all bothered by your rejection, leaning over you and applying the cold gel to your wound. It stings terribly, and you bite your lip, clenching your eyes shut and trying not to make a noise.

You force your eyes open after a long moment of silence, and see that Terry’s eyes are still on your face, watching your reaction with an intense expression. Something in your belly clenches.

He looks away, choosing a bandage and applying it over your eye, though you think he presses down on it more firmly than necessary.

“There,” he says softly, surveying his work; he’s still holding your head in his hands. “All better.”

He’s doing it again – using that weird, magnetic pull he has to draw you in, make you feel… well, definitely not safe, but like you want to stay on this dangerous precipice with him.

“Thank you,” you say, speaking more loudly than necessary as you move to climb off the bed, intentionally disrupting the intimate atmosphere. You had to get away from him before he sunk his claws into you; in some ways, he felt more dangerous than the men he had saved you from.

“Y/N, wait,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder and keeping you in place.

“I have to get home, I–”

“I’ve missed you.”

You freeze at his words, staring straight ahead at his chest.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You force yourself to breathe again – when did it get so difficult?

“You know why,” you whisper after a long moment, still refusing to look at him. Suddenly, the gi top that had just felt so warm and comforting feels like a straightjacket, and your fingers move to untie it and take it off. You feel his gaze track the motion, but he doesn’t stop you.

“I haven’t done anything to you, Y/N.”

“You’ve been lying to me ever since I met you, Terry!” you snap, your wariness disappearing for a moment.

“I have not,” he growls, setting off alarm bells in your head. “I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never hurt you. I just saved your ass, for fuck’s sake!”

“What about Danny? What about Mike and Snake and–”

Terry’s hand covers your mouth suddenly. You fall silent as a jolt of desire like electricity courses through you. You hate the feeling with every fibre of your being.

“I never lied to him either, and I certainly never hurt him. He just didn’t bother asking the right questions.”

“You’re trying to get out of this on a technicality?” you say once you’ve pried his hand off of your face. He shrugs, an amused smile twisting his lips.

“I’m very good at what I do, Y/N. I have my reasons to make sure LaRusso loses the tournament, and I feel very justified in the training methods I’ve used. I don’t see what any of that has to do with you, though.”

“You’re messing with a kid!”

“Please. He’s practically an adult, and he’s certainly old enough to face the consequences of his actions. But be honest – that’s not why you’re scared of me, sweetheart. What’s the real problem you have with me?”

You’re quiet, biting your lip as you contemplate how to begin to answer his question.

“I know what it is,” he croons, his voice almost musical as he stands over you, moving to brace himself with his hands on either side of you. You lean back as his face gets dangerously close to yours. “You’re scared of what you feel when you look at me, isn’t that right? Scared of what you know you want, thinking about me as you lay awake at night?”

Your heart is beating in your throat, your face heating up.

“I… No, I…”

“Ssshhh,” Terry whispers, closing the distance between your faces once more. You can’t move, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. “It’s okay that you’re scared, babygirl. Let me show you what you really want…”

Cradling your head in his hands gently, he pulls you close, kissing you with a passion and a bruising force that is anything but gentle. You brain seems to short-circuit from the intensity of the kiss, and for a brief moment you’re kissing him back; the desire overwhelming you as he stokes it into a burning flame with his lips and tongue. You force yourself to fight through the dizziness, your head spinning.

“Mmhn… Terry… NO!” you say firmly, shoving him in the chest. He moves back a couple of steps, his head cocked as he looks down at you. The moonlight streams in from the window behind him, his eyes glinting brightly at you. He doesn’t seem upset with you.

He also doesn’t seem deterred.

“Don’t fight this, doll. I’ve seen the way you look at me; I know you want it,” he purrs in a husky voice, smirking at you as he slowly approaches the bed once more.

He couldn’t do this… He wouldn’t do this… He had just saved you from those men trying to do this exact thing!

“No, Terry,” you insist, climbing off the side of the bed, your eyes fixed on him. “I don’t want this. Please stay away from me,” you beg, backing through the doorway. The last thing you see is his mouth twisting into a predatory grin that makes you turn and run.

Scrambling, you make your way to the front of the dojo and go to tug the door open.

It doesn’t budge.

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” you hear Terry sing menacingly from the office; the sound of it sends shivers down your spine. He laughs maniacally, like a hyena, before appearing in the doorway, calm as can be. “Double-sided locking system; I thought we might be needing it.”

A sense of dread roots you to the spot, and you feel your teeth chattering.

“You… you planned this?” you say, your voice barely more than a high-pitched whisper, but the sound carries through the silence of the dojo.

“I have far more than just Barnes, Dennis and Snake at my disposal,” he says, giving you a cruel smile. “Those guys were more than happy to go after you for free; I mostly paid them to let me kick their asses without them bitching about it or giving me away.”

“Why?!” you ask frustratedly. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew that if Terry had wanted to get you here, he could have done so himself, without needing to stage an attack. This was madness.

“I wanted to see if you’d come to me for help, even knowing what Danny-Boy told you. And you did!” he says, sounding delighted, like he’s praising a child for picking up their toys. He slowly approaches you, and you try to maintain the distance between you, but it’s no use. He’s bigger, he knows what he’s doing, and you’re terrified.

“Guess you shoulda listened to Danny-Boy, huh?”

---

Part 2

#terry silver #thomas ian griffith #terry silver x reader #karate kid #kk3 #the karate kid 3 #smut #thanks for the ask!#keep the requests coming #dark desires october

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purpleheartskies · 1 year

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I came across a couple of quotes and thought of Robby's story.

"Feeling dismissed by someone important to us can be a serious trigger for complex trauma survivors. It's more than feeling "invisible". It's feeling we ARE seen--we're just not important enough to take seriously."

These are a few of the moments that Johnny chose his own ego and/or Miguel over Robby, essentially dismissing Robby.

s1 - Robby as he sees Johnny give Miguel the gi and hug. In their last interaction, after Robby gave Johnny some attitude, Johnny told Robby that he didn't care if Robby went to school, to which Robby pointed out that Johnny hasn't cared about Robby for 16 years. Robby now found out that Johnny has replaced him with Miguel.

s2 - Robby telling Daniel that Johnny cares more about his rivarly with Daniel than about Robby. This is right after a conversation in which Johnny dismissed Robby's feelings about needing time to forgive him and made it about himself and his issues with Daniel.

s2 - Robby after Johnny and Miguel crashed his Valley Fest demonstration. Johnny had proven to Robby once again that Johnny cares more about his rivalry with Daniel than about Robby.

s3 - Robby asking Johnny why he didn't come to the juvie visit, right after asking Johnny where he's been for the over one month since they'd had their "one good day" together (which had only happened because Robby had given Johnny yet another unearned chance).

s3 - Robby after Johnny told Robby that he missed the scheduled visit to be with Miguel. Robby followed this by saying that Johnny chose Miguel over Robby again. Johnny is Robby's parent and Robby is supposed to be Johnny's first and foremost priority, but Johnny chose to dismiss Robby once again.

s4 - Robby after Kreese commented that Johnny had left Robby there with that mark on his head and chose Diaz. In their last confrontation, Johnny had attacked Kreese, and Robby had to stop Johnny. Robby then told Johnny that all those years Johnny wasn't there Robby blamed himself, and that Robby was no longer going to blame himself but was now going to blame Johnny instead. Robby then attacked Johnny, and Johnny tried not to fight him but knocked him out accidentally. Johnny then left Robby with Kreese, and Johnny left with Miguel. At this point, Robby was still homeless and was still with Kreese, and Johnny still didn't care, despite claiming that Kreese couldn't be trusted.

s4 - Robby as Johnny dismissed him at the end of a conversation in which Johnny kept dismissing everything Robby said, including that Robby had been stopping the fight that day in school when Miguel attacked him and escalated the fight.

s5 - Robby overhearing Johnny tell Carmen that it's too dangerous for her to come down and look for Miguel. This is after Robby found out that Johnny had tricked him into the trip just to get his help to search for Miguel, and then Johnny started to guilt him into staying. So, Johnny is fine with risking Robby's life but will do what he can to make sure that they're safe. Johnny also didn't care to tell Robby that Johnny's dating Miguel's mom, which of course affects Robby too but Johnny doesn't bother considering how Robby would feel about that.

s5 - Robby watching as Johnny hugged Miguel with a fatherly love that Johnny has never shown Robby. This is after Johnny had manipulated (tricked and guilted) and endangered Robby to get his help to find Miguel, including abandoning Robby at one point to get home on his own, not caring if he'd get home safely.

"Experiencing trauma is by its very nature a lonely, intense isolating experience. That's then exacerbated when society at large fundamentally misunderstands what trauma is, and so puts pressure on us to just 'move on' and 'put it behind us'."

I've seen comparisons between the scene in s1 of Robby seeing Johnny give Miguel the gi and hug and the scene in s4 of Miguel's reaction when Johnny said "I love you too Robby". The comparison being that the "feeling" in the two scenes are the same. It's really disappointing to see such callous comparisons because it completely minimizes childhood trauma/complex trauma/c-ptsd. Especially given the story itself and the ongoing and worsening trauma that Robby has survived for over 16 years, that comparison is incredibly dismissive of childhood trauma and the impact it has on a person, which Robby's characterization realistically depicts, including his fawning after Johnny in s5 because he was trying to avoid Johnny abandoning him again. And, yet, despite Johnny's obviously abusive and dismissive behavior towards Robby in s5, most fans are happy Robby has "matured", "let go of his jealousy" towards Miguel, and "let go of his anger" towards Johnny. Many also minimize Johnny's past behavior towards Robby by deeming it "mistakes" and praise Johnny for now "trying" and "working hard" to "repair" his relationship with Robby, which is obviously on Johnny's terms only. Most fans choose to brush off the show as "dumb", "unrealistic", and a "comedy" so that they can mindlessly enjoy the show, but willful ignorance doesn't change what's actually being depicted in the show. Whenever any of us tries to talk about Robby's traumas, our comments are brushed off by most other fans and we're sometimes even insulted. Society fundamentally misunderstands what trauma is because society doesn't want to understand trauma. If society did understand trauma, society would also have to acknowledge trauma and address how society also contributes to it. In this case, these fans would have to acknowledge how Johnny and the other characters continue to contribute to Robby's trauma and that these fans themselves are okay with that.

(These are general thoughts and not directed at anyone in particular.)

(Note: Please don't reblog or reply with any dismissive comment or tag expressing negativity towards the show writers, the writing, or the serious aspects of the show. Such comments/tags minimize the contents of the post. This blog (link) explains more about my general thoughts about posting after s5.)

#cobra kai is robby's story #robby keene

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zappedbyzabka · 1 year

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silverlaw getting steamy while fighting..

Terry had gotten mad at Johnny over a situation in a bar, jealous that he was supposedly flirting with another man. Johnny, stubborn as always, refused to give in to Terry’s antics. Terry continued to scold him about it and Johnny got tired of it, he had enough of hearing Terry’s accusations.

Terry continued dragging on, “-and he should know you’re taken, I bought you that ring for a reason.”

“You talk too much.” Johnny scoffed, already moving on to putting away something in a closet. He heard Terry go silent, which usually meant he was angry.

“What?”

“It wasn’t that serious, Terry.” Johnny shut the closet door, turned, and was met with Terry glaring right at him.

“It was, Johnny. I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

Johnny knows that Terry means it. He likes the thrill of riling Terry up though. Terry takes a step closer.

“Just let it be. It’s stupid, Terry.” And that’s the nail in the coffin. Terry tugs Johnny in by the waist and kisses him, leading him to the bed. He pushes him down and starts stripping off his clothes.

Then, Terry has Johnny riding him, grasping at Terry’s hair, gasping for air.

“I- I’m sorry, fuck! ‘M sorry. Didn’t mean it!”

“Yeah? You were so confident earlier that you could talk back like that.” Terry presses his ring, snake shaped, into Johnny’s arm, and it leaves a little indent that’ll last for a few hours if he presses hard enough. Johnny hisses at the cold feeling but continues bouncing, whining out little mutters of, “sorry, sorry, sorry!”

By the end of the night Johnny is left with a few snake indents on his body, a litter of hickeys, and bruises from Terry’s hands. He couldn’t have thought of a better conflict resolution.

(Their fighting is really just foreplay at that point)

YESSSS ANON

Johnny is used to people (cough Kreese) being possessive over him. He likes it in some ways, but hey, he likes to flirt too. It’s fun to watch guys dicks get hard just by watching him do something as simple as sucking on a straw.

But he wasn't flirting this time. It was just some girl he knew in high school who thought dropping weirdly lovey-dovey notes in his locker would get her somewhere even when he was dating Ali, which was just funny to Johnny. He wasn’t the nicest, he admits—at least Silver likes that.

She meant nothing, really, so why was Terry acting like that?

This isn’t the last time it happens at all. Actually, the next time it happens, it might have been purposeful.

Because there Freddy was, the nice guy he liked to intentionally piss off and enjoy the way he looked, ready to hold him down and fuck him numb. Those days were fun, teasing Freddy and his group when the cobras weren't around. He liked the looks on their faces when he said something slap-worthy, how they clearly wanted to "put him in his place", on his knees, on his back, on their laps. He had to flirt with him.

He remembers Freddy calling him pretty boy, that handsome face smiling with dimples, and the feeling of a heavy hand patting his shoulder. He’s sure he would have told his friends if Johnny had given it up, or maybe he wouldn't have. He seemed…gentlemanly, but Johnny's never known a good man. He wonders what life would’ve been like if he had chosen a guy like that….Silver would hate the way he’s thinking; he's so damn paranoid sometimes and hellbent on keeping him all to himself. Johnny is loyal, something he’s always prided himself on; he’d never leave his husband—not after all his promises, not after seeing the way he looks when he’s just waking up, not after seeing his tears shine in the bathroom light. Feeling his shoulders shake after waking up for the third time that night from nightmares.

He's possessive too anyway; sometimes he feels like knocking someone's teeth out seeing the way people look at Terry, as if there isn't a ring on his finger. But they're each other's; Terry always likes to say, "You belong to me," but Johnny knows Terry belongs to him too, he could raise hell if Terry ever left him.

He loves him, and he loves the way he handles him. He’d kiss that ring 100 times and ask for more marks.

And Silver knows how to fuck him right, hits that spot and presses those long fingers down in his tongue, promising darkly to cum all over it and paint pretty pink with white. Makes him feel weak in the best way.

He’s brought up Johnny getting a tattoo "Right here," rubbing a thumb right above Johnnys ass before pressing it into his back dimple. "My name in cursive, so everyone knows you’re mine."

Johnny shuddered, chuckling. "Only if you get a big one of mine on your back."

"Gladly. So we have an agreement. I’ll make us appointments."

"What?—"

Johnny’s never gotten a tattoo; he never had the money. He has scratch tats of the cobras' initials, faded to almost nothing, on his shoulder. (Silver always leaves the most marks there)

It was his idea, and the others were too afraid of the needle to do it. He was allowed to at least scribble a "J" on Dutch’s bicep. He wonders when they’ll call again.

He wondered out loud after a hard day. He’d been talked down to, like usual, multiple times by people who believed he really was just a dumb blond. Sure, he played up the act a lot, which gets him out of a lot of situations to play pretty and stupid. But Is he actually just stupid?

"I wouldn’t marry a stupid person."

Johnny huffed, a headache forming. "But you’re all about books and history, and I'm—"

"Darling, you're a brat and play dumb, but you're anything but. The dumbest people think they’re smart; they’re the easiest to strike down. There are more pretentious people who think they’re intelligent than there are dull people who know they’re dull."

He’s played the game enough to know that.

"Thanks, babe…" Johnny sighed, pulling away to grab his phone and check it, his heart aching with nostalgia. The cobras used to tell him something similar. Jimmy was a smart guy, but he never made Johnny feel lesser. "I tried to message my old buddies the other day."

Silver stiffened, not looking at him. "And how did that go?"

"I don’t think they like me anymore."

Maybe that has something to do with Terry, because the cobras still love Johnny and are worried because they can’t get in contact. Silver has seen a few photos of those boys all huddled around Johnny like fucking worshippers. Silver didn’t like the proximity and hands on what was his, so he made it just a little harder for them to get in contact. crucify him.

It’s not like they couldn’t find him if they tried hard enough…So, is it really his fault for their neglect? He doesn’t think so, that’s for sure.

He doesn’t regret it at all when he has Johnny turning to lay on his side and smiling so sweetly at him from under his gold lashes, telling him, "I’m glad I have you."

#safety first #nsft #tw possessive behavior #johnny lawrence #terry silver #silverlaw #Freddy Fernandez #Whether or not Freddy got to hit that is your choice

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sensei-venus · 2 years

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I was going through your masterlist and I’d love to hear your NSFW headcanons for alpha!kreese or just some abo headcanons for terry in general <3 if you want/have time!!

(I love Kreese, point blank. Give me hot sexy mentally ill Kreese.) (unedited)

•Alpha!Kreese is the prime example of old generation alpha’s. He’s lean mean cunning and he’s up front about all of it. He wants to be the biggest alpha in the room at all times, he wants everyone to know it too. He musks and scents the whole room as soon as he steps in. He doesn’t want to hear any whining about it either.

•He only likes omega’s so too bad bates and other alpha’s. He loves the scent of omega’s, fruity,sweet,flower scents get him going. When he was younger he definitely popped a lot of boners at the scent of a sweet smelling omega. His natural instinct’s is to enjoy the scent of a little omega as long as possible, and get his dick wet too.

•Kreese loves having sex with omega’s, it’s literally his favorite thing besides drinking and doing karate. He’s definitely experienced and is happy to show off to any omega that is interested. He’s not picky about what omega he has sex with as long as they are attractive enough in his book. Pretty, small and smells nice. Also as long as they aren’t to snippy, Kreese hates snippy, rude and disrespectful omega’s. He’s the alpha in this thing, he’s the one that’s gets to be mean.

•Rough kisser and loves make out session’s with the omegas he ends up taking home. Most of the time he takes home omegas he meets at the bars he goes to a lot. Most of the time he’s drunk during these encounters. Very rarely is he sober when picking chicks up at the bar. He doesn’t dislike this, he’s still getting his dick wet in the end. Don’t knock it till you try it as they say, drunk sex is fun to him.

•He doesn’t do anything over the top with random omegas. He likes sloppy blowjobs and handjobs. Most of the time he’s going round after round of doggy style where he fucks them from the back, bending them over on a cheap hotel bed. He enjoys a round of missionary. Most of the time he honestly doesn’t care about looking at their faces, he looks at their ass or tits as they bounce on his cock. If he looks at their face, it’s because he wants to see them in tears with cum all over them. He also doesn’t knot any of them, it’s in his moral code to not knot any omega he’s not actually interested in long term.

(Following is kinda just my own thing, because I love Kreese so…..I pull this shit out my ass because I want him.)

•Kreese isn’t great at actually looking for a long term mate. He’s never actually tried and has no idea on how to go about it. He has little dating experience as well. He meets his omega by pure accident. He smelled her before he saw her and his inner alpha was begging to investigate the sweet scent that filled the room. She was a sweet little waiter at a restaurant he was trying out. She was quiet bite sweet, and it was feeding his inner alpha to watch her run around the restaurant. He chatted her up for a while and before long he was talking her into seeing him sometime after she got off work.

•He’s rough at first, gripping her hips as he thrusts into her wet pussy. He loves the wet slapping sounds of his hips and balls meeting get ass. He’s got her folded in half as he pounds into her. He wants to see her crying out for him.

•He sucks on every piece of flesh he can get too. He wants to mark her up as much as he can, so everyone knows she’s his. He wants every to know that she has a alpha waiting on her at home. That someone is willing to fight over the little omega. He sucks hickey into her neck and chest, all over her tits. He even sucks marks into her shoulders and arms. Their borderline violent looking like she got into a fight. Really it’s just a over dramatic and over excited alpha who wants to show off.

•Real alphas eat pussy, that’s something Kreese lives by. You would think he wouldn’t, but he does, and he’s good at it. Eating pussy is the easiest way to make a omega happy, at least from his experience. He knows how to use his mouth. He laps at her folds like a dying man, his nose bumps against their clit and nestles right against it as he tongue fucks their pussy. He wants her to make his chin drip. He wants her creaming on his face. If she hasn’t cum on his tongue at least twice that night, he’s not doing something right.

•Major breeding kink when he finds his omega. He wants to have a few pups at most. He will full on knot her over and over again everytime he pops a knot during sex. He doesn’t care if he’s not in a rut or if she’s in heat, he will knot her and creampie her poor pussy. He loves creampies, he loves to just stay in side of her after he cums, feeling her clench around him. The way his balls draw up with ever load of cum he pumps into her. Constantly tells her how sexy she’s going to look filled with his pups, how he can’t wait to see her all round and full. Really fantasies about coming home to a barefoot pregnant omega after a long day at the dojo.

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #cobra kai headcanons #karate kid blog #karate kid headcanons #the karate kid series #alpha!kreese #karate kid kreese #young john kreese #john kreese #cobra kai kreese #karate kid smut #cobra kai smut #smut thoughts

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flannelepicurean · 2 years

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Had a dream that I was watching an episode of Cobra Kai, in a timeline where Johnny and Kreese were working together for real, because they'd...I dunno, gone to family counseling and patched things up, and also I guess Johnny finally stumbled onto the right part of the internet and rolled up one day and was like, "Hey, have you heard about this new 'toxic masculinity' thing?" And Kreese was like, "Are you gonna try and sell me a juice cleanse? Because I already know about multi-level marketing."

They had also become fairly positive and reliable male presences in Robby's life, and Johnny was more or less his full-time Dad, and Kreese was his almost-kinda granddad-figure, although both Johnny and Robby were kinda weird and ambiguous on that point.

Anyhow, they were doing...something???...not exactly above-board in Europe that had them temporarily based in Portugal, and they had snuck into Spain for a couple days to do something. They got into a big fight, OF COURSE, and were able to karate their way back out, but the heat was gettin' too hot, and they decided to haul ass back to the U.S., but they had to go back to Portugal to get their stashed stuff. But they'd lost their gear in Spain, including their papers, and Robby had gotten knocked the fuck out, so Johnny and Kreese were tryna figure out how to sneak their way across the Portuguese border and back to their hotel.

The plot they'd cooked up was that, for some reason, they were gonna pretend that Kreese was Robby's dad (I guess because they needed to throw people off of their actual identities, and they thought that would help???), and Johnny was...relationship unclear. But the border situation was, incomprehensibly, kind of an outdoor pavilion on a beach, and the guy interviewing them at a little table with an umbrella over it, while they jointly supported a very unconscious Robby, was Rufus from Supernatural.

Now, Rufus knew who they were. They had, in fact, worked with Rufus peripherally on whatever thing they were doing that was not exactly above-board, or he at least would look the other way about it. But they all had to be super careful, lest they tip off the authorities.

So they're in a real pickle. And they all know it. And Rufus is giving them his best bureaucratic box-ticking act while also giving them the death-glare of, "Guys, you have screwed the pooch, tread carefully, don't eff this up, I like this job." And Kreese is kinda sitting back, stoically monitoring Robby to make sure he's not freakin' dying, because he's been unconscious for an alarming amount of time at this point, and Johnny's motor-mouthing away, getting increasingly nervous, because he knows they're being monitored in some way other than just Rufus.

And he slips up. Invents a surname for Robby, without being prompted. And Rufus just kind of gently squinches his eyes shut and informs him that, well, since he's naming names now, it's mandatory that he call it in and run checks on all three of them. But GOSH, THAT KID SURE LOOKS CONCUSSED. SERIOUS BUSINESS, THAT. IF HE WOKE UP FOR EVEN A MINUTE OR TWO AND GAVE AN INDICATION THAT HE NEEDED AND WANTED MEDICAL ATTENTION, THEY'D BE LEGALLY REQUIRED TO ESCORT HIM AND A CAREGIVER TO A MEDICAL STATION. SEEING AS RUFUS CAN'T TELL IF HE'S A MINOR, WITHOUT HIS PAPERS, AND ALL. And it could take him a while to run the background checks, system gets jammed up all the time, slow-ass government computers, filing system shot to hell, oh goodness...

And they do manage to get Robby conscious again, and explain the gist of what's going on, and he's like, "Wut? Y'all are fucking stupid, WTF..." And Johnny's like, "WE KNOW!" and Kreese is like, "Who do you mean, 'we?'" and Johnny's like, "That's beside the point! Can you act concussed? Like, tell 'em you're confused or nauseous or something?" And Robby's like, "I actually do legit feel like I'm gonna throw up, though..." And Johnny's like, "OKAY, WE GOT IT! Holy shit, sorry kid, legitimate emergency, we're gonna get you outta here, it's gonna be okay. EXCUSE ME? AGENT SINGER? SIR???" And Rufus is like, "You rang?"

They did make it into and then outta Portugal, I'm pretty sure. And Robby was fine later.

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messymindofmine · 3 years

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Not to get too heated about fictional characters but one thing that has always annoyed me when people talk about Robby’s relationship with Johnny is that as far as Robby is concerned, Johnny really is the deadbeat dad that Robby thinks he is. The guy was literally never there for him by his own admission and everytime Robby did reach out, Johnny behaved like a jerk. People bring up that hug between Miguel and Johnny a lot but what a lot of people seem to forget is that Robby was literally only there because he wanted to make amends with his dad. That too after his mom had flat out told him that the only reason his dad wanted him to move in with him was to get out of paying child support (and seriously don’t even get me started on how massively fucked up that is). Despite that, Robby still decided to give Johnny a chance and went to see him. Only to see his dad, who’d been absent for him his entire life, hugging some kind he’d barely known for a few weeks. Obviously, he didn’t know the full story but all he did know was that his dad (after an extremely half-hearted attempt at reconciliation at best) had chosen some random kid over him. And to say that he should’ve made the effort even after seeing the hug....why?! why should he have been the one to make the effort when his mother had already made him think that his father didn’t care and he had just seen his father choose someone else over him. And let’s not leave out Daniel’s role in all this. Daniel did take on a paternal role in Robby’s life by his own choice and then at the first challenge not only rejected but verbally attacked him in the worst way. And then he basically had him arrested for something that was a complete accident that he was already clearly traumatized by. And let’s not forget that Shannon- his own mother-actually helped Daniel do that. And then of course he went through hell in prison. And he waited for his dad to come and visit him only for Johnny to not even show up. And yes, he stayed at the request of Miguel’s grandmother but that doesn’t change the fact that yet again he was not there for his son. And honestly, it’s hardly surprising that Robby is resentful of Miguel. After all, Miguel already had a loving mother and grandmother while Robby had nobody, So to see not only his own father apparently prioritizing someone else over him but also to see the girl he had feelings for kiss that same person would’ve been like rubbing salt in an already heavily bleeding wound. And it was Miguel who attacked first not Robby, Robby was the one who tried to stop the fight, This isn’t meant to be anti-Miguel by any means btw. I love him just as much as anyone else. I’m just pointing out the rather obvious double standards that some people appear to have with regards to the whole Johnny/Miguel/Robby dynamic. Also, when Johnny did finally go to see Robby in prison, the first thing he did upon seeing a massive black eye on him is berate him for getting into a fight without even asking for the details. He didn’t even bother to ask his son if he was okay. It’s not at all surprising that Robby ended up being seduced by Kreese. Kreese did exactly what predators do, he saw a vulnerable target and he lunged at him. And obviously by the time Kreese got to Robby, he wasn’t in the headspace to listen to anybody anymore. Why should he? Why should he listen to the people who constantly let him down and hurt him? And Johnny knocking Robby unconscious certainly did not help either. And yet despite all that, Robby was still able to eventually see what was happening himself and take a step back. That’s why he was at the dojo in 4x10 to begin with. The hug between Robby and Johnny was definitely a good start but I hope that the next season will expand on that properly. It’s honestly a bit disturbing to me how many people actually think that Robby is to blame for any of what has happened. He’s literally just a kid. A kid just like Sam and Miguel. Unlike Sam and Miguel though, he’s a kid who has been let down and abandoned by literally everyone who he should have been able to trust. And unlike Sam and Miguel, Robby didn’t have anyone to turn to after Miguel’s accident. The thing about being a parent is, just because your kid is rightfully angry with you and tells you he doesn’t want to see you, it doesn’t mean that you should just accept it and turn your back on him. Honestly, I think Robby is one of the best written character I have ever seen. His entire character arc is so heartbreakingly sad and painfully realistic. I can only hope that the show will actually do justice to his character and provide him with the opportunity to actually express his frustrations and show Johnny actually working to be the father that Robby deserves. And it certainly wouldn’t hurt for them to show Shannon and Johnny putting working through their issues-not in a shippy way but to show how important it is for both parents to put their child over their own issues. I would also like to see Daniel admitting to his own role in Robby’s trauma. Anyway, that’s the end of my tangent. I hope that season 5 will provide us with a lot of quality Robby and Johnny scenes where Robby can work through his trauma and Johnny will actually be there to take care of Robby the way he deserves

#cobra kai #robby keene #johnny and robby #daniel and robby

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rvspberry · 3 years

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Idk if anyone has really talked about the second tournament like this but I can’t get it out of my mind how Terry Silver was probably responsible for EVERYTHING that happened.

First, we know that he purchased the arena for the All Valley. He used his money and power as the purchaser of the stadium to announce this at the start of the tournament, ostensibly so that the All Valley will always have a spot for the competition. But Silver did this intentionally to show how involved he is in the tournament. I think this also underscores the implication in my second point.

Because, logically speaking, he also probably was responsible for the change of the All Valley rules in terms of the previous winner only having to fight in the final match to entice Daniel to compete. Why else would the rules change so drastically from one year to the next? And why else would these rules have changed to the current iteration within CK? (We can’t blame it all on retconning when we’ve seen them retcon in CK, too, to explain the canon in the TKK movies - see Ali and the yellow Ford car mishap.)

Third, isn’t it within reason, too, to assume that the lack of safety in the second tournament was orchestrated by Silver? That the hits and moves that would have disqualified someone in the previous year are flying in this one, that the interaction between non-fighters with the fighters on the opposite team (Silver, Kreese, or Snake v. Daniel on the sidelines) are okay? I’d have to find the time stamp but I’m pretty sure one of them even shoved Daniel while he’s knocked out of bounds and like, how would that even fly? Dutch and Bobby both get disqualified for shit that would probably have been fine at the second tournament. Maybe there wasn’t a council/panel/committee like in CK (where they stated that Cobra Kai had the lifetime ban) but some people have to come together and determine the rules for a tournament, and the rules from the last tournament are being explicitly ignored. Why else is that referee not throwing Barnes out for what he’s doing and just gives him warning after warning? Are we not supposed to assume that Silver had his hand in this, too?

Like, okay, you can claim that they retconned it all — and I would shrug and say sure, okay, maybe. But meta is about reading into shit and analyzing what we do have to go off of until we’re given more information hopefully in season 4.

And honestly it makes SENSE to make these assumptions, considering that Silver bought the building and got to speak??? At the opening ceremony, where he passed out Cobra Kai shirts??? Like, who else would do that besides an announcer like in the first film if Silver doesn’t have more power over the direction of the tournament?

I argue that all of what I’m assuming he did is exactly what Silver meant when he said he was going to build Daniel up to think he was invincible and then “in front of a thousand people” realize he’s not in the most humiliating way possible. It wasn’t just about surprising Daniel with Barnes, or with Kreese being alive, but the whole entire affair of the tournament. Silver doesn’t tell Daniel his level of involvement, how he bought the stadium, and we aren’t told but I really do think it’s implied and given a lot of context that Silver also manipulated the rules and the referees. Daniel is justifiably ranting and raving during Silver’s speech, because even he sees the layers of manipulation Silver has gone through to fuck Daniel over. It’s not just “I can’t believe this guy” has the audacity to pretend to be a good sport, but also “I can’t believe this guy” bought the building, and is making announcements before the tournament when his dojo is representing a fighter in the competition, and that Silver went through all of this just to hurt Daniel.

And it really is all to hurt Daniel, and through Daniel, hurt Mr. Miyagi. Like, Daniel’s downfall is Silver’s goal. He wants to break Daniel for good and he almost does until Miyagi tells Daniel he can’t lose to fear. Daniel is on the mat, almost unable to continue because of the pain and the relentlessness and just… all of it is too much for him to handle until Miyagi supports him. It’s a surprise to me that Silver drops everything after the tournament and doesn’t continue to harass Daniel, but that’s movie ending for you.

Sometimes the easiest explanation is the one we’re given up front. Silver tells us his plan through his conversations with Kreese which are probably the only times we actually get a sense of Silver’s true motivations and his true self. Even when he’s around his staff, Silver has a front up, but it all comes down for Kreese. Like, does Daniel ever find out that Silver broke into Miyagi’s house and was stalking around outside while he got changed?

If you buy the queercoded reading of the movie and the implied sexual relationship between Daniel and Silver, the layers of manipulation are even crazier. It’s a lot. Why else is Daniel so hell bent on keeping Cobra Kai out of the Tournament? It’s not just about Kreese, nor about Johnny. Kreese being dead and Johnny not knowing Silver are enough to placate the committee and, until Daniel finds out that Kreese is alive, he has a tentative positive relationship with Johnny. Silver poured thousands (probably tens of thousands if not more; I’m not good with guesstimating costs in the ‘80s) and spent about three months of his life solely devoted to manipulating an eighteen year old boy whose only offense was winning a tournament and Mr. Miyagi humiliating Silver’s BFF when the guy couldn’t land a punch anywhere but to car windows. They went big on purpose with Silver and made him a supervillain in a sports movie to make him larger-than-life levels of scary. And so it doesn’t really surprise me nor bother me when people focus on Daniel’s trauma at Silver’s hands because no one else in Daniel’s life has fucked him over to that extent.

Anyway I don’t really see people talk about ALL that Silver has done or what it’s implied that he’s done around the Tournament in the 3rd movie so I had to write out my thoughts.

#the karate kid #the karate kid iii #terry silver #karate kid #cobra kai #meta #this is my first meta ramble #terry silver is his own warning #(that’s my silver tag so i can find it later)#tkk3

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marvelous-imagines · 4 years

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His girl

Johnny Lawrence x kreese's daughter reader

Request:I love this! But like what about an imagine where the reader is kreese's daughter and a total badass (excuse my language please) and Johnny falls hard.... Maybe.... Please 🥺

Warnings: mild language. Fluff

@farewell-to-all

The sound of hard rock music blared from the speakers in the auto shop, well the garage, but you liked to call it your auto shop. It's a place you come and unwind, de-stressing by cleaning and tweaking a bit on your beat up 1967 chevrolet camaro, it's red paint chipping off a bit, black two lines racing down the hood of it. While you was distracted by washing the car you loved dearly, you didn't even notice your father walking inside the garage and turning your music off. You look up and can't help the little scowl that etched itself on your face.

"what the hell are you doing? Blasting that garbage loudly" he spoke with annoyance, eye's glued to you. You turn away from him and focus back on cleaning the camaro.

"well, I was cleaning my car while listening to music, but obviously you had to ruin that" you muttered with attitude, making your father angry.

"why don't you take a break from this stupid car and destroying your hearing with that damned music and train some with me in the dojo? God knows you need it" he looks you up and down, eye's flickering over your tiny muscles and weak looking self.

"are you implying I can't take care of myself now?" you ask him, throwing the cloth you held down and standing up, glaring at him.

"I'm implying that you need to learn more about you're own self defense, just looking at you makes me feel pathetic" he said, and even though he didn't intend it to sound insulting you scoff and shake your head.

"why don't you go back to you're dojo and prance around" you spat out, picking the rag back up and wiping the car down. Your father let's out a sigh and heads toward the exit, but stops to turn around towards you.

"you will always be my little girl y/n, I'm just trying to look out for you" you look over your shoulder at him.

"yeah? Well I'm capable of protecting myself, you've done taught me everything I need to know about self defense" you grumbled, he nods and walks out. You sigh and look at the red and black car with a little frown. Maybe you should show up at the cobra Kai dojo one day, surprise your father. You was growing a bit rusty with swift kicks and blocking....

The corner stores neon lights light up the darkness of the street. The moon out as the sun had descended the sky hours ago. Shutting your camaro off you step out of the car and head into the store, in search of snack foods and soda, tonight's planned dinner. Walking into the store you walk around, scanning the isles for whatever catches your eye's. But then you heard loud chatter among a group of people, when you take a peek like the curious person you are at the people you see a small group of guys, all wearing red jackets. You soon realize that it's cobra Kai jackets.

"hey beautiful, you look like you could really use a few drinks, wanna come along to a party with me and my friends?" you look away from the group of guys and see dark haired man standing beside you. Giving the stranger a unimpressed look you shake your head.

"I'm gonna pass, but thinks for the weird offer" you say and take a bag of chips off the shelf along with some bread.

"oh c'mon gorgeous, it'll be fun" he pushed, following you through the store. You take a six-pack of soda of another shelf and head for the checkout.

"listen pal. I said no, so leave me alone before I make you" you threatened, that caught the attention of the cobra Kai group. Placing the stuff in your arms down you watch the cashier scan them. But much to your dismay the stranger wouldn't leave....

"oh yeah? What's a small little girl like you gonna do?" he goes to grab your arm but you grab his hand and twist his rest, swiftly kicking his legs out from under him, causing him to fall on his knees where you then kick his chest.

"that" was all you said as you throw cash on the counter and grab your stuff and leave. But a certain someone followed you.

"hey! Wait up" you sling the bags into the passenger seat and lean on the car, watching the blonde man approaching, stopping in front of you with a impressed smile.

"that was awesome what you did back there, I was going to kick that guys ass for you but... It looks like you can handle you're own just fine" he said, blue eye's on you, but then look at the car behind you, "67 camaro, nice" he muttered with a grin.

"what did you want? Not to be rude or anything but I have dinner to make" you crossed your arms and look at the handsome man, although you didn't know him he had caused your heart to skip a beat, with those gorgeous blue eye's and soft face, you found it infuriating how gorgeous he really was.

"I originally wanted to say that you left your soda, but now I wanna look at this car" he points at the car with a smile, eye's alight with joy. You sigh and let a small smile etch its way on your face.

"take a look if you want, just don't try and steal it or anything" you joke while popping the hood open, letting him see inside. He chuckles while walking around to see the beauty of the motor.

"after what I saw in there, I don't think I have the balls to try and steal it" he joked right back, making you giggle.

"I'm y/n by the way" you outstretched your hand awaiting a handshake. He shakes your hand with a smile.

"johnny" he introduced as he then watches how you point out the cars original parts and the ones that you had put in yourself.

It was that night Johnny had started developing feelings for you. But the night he knew he was in love with you... That was a night he wouldn't forget.

Seated on the hood of your car, parked on a old barely used road, you and Johnny look over the city, eating candy as the radio played some rock song. After knowing Johnny for a few months you and him became close friends, he really dug your 'I don't give a shit' personality along with how tough you truly were. Needless to say, Johnny was smitten unbeknownst to you. That's how you found yourself here, head leaning on his shoulder as you was Laughing at Johnny's story he was telling you, about how he tried buying beer by flirting with the middle aged cashier lady.

"there is no way you actually thought that'd work!" you laugh, taking a sip of your drink as he chuckles. Arm wrapped around you.

"it's worked before I thought it would work again! No need to laugh at me" he says with a wide grin, sipping from his beer he managed to get.

"you're such a dork sometimes" you say, laughing lightly. Johnny hums a little in amusement.

"I'm not a dork" he defended himself with a teasing smile, looking down at you.

"says the man who thought a 50 year old woman would sell him beer just because he complemented her hair" you boop his nose making him scrunch it up and turn his head.

Just then a bunch of other teens pull up on the beautiful sight, loud music blaring from their car. You roll yours eyes and feel Johnny's hold on you tighten. The protective gesture warming your heart, even though you both knew you could handle your own well enough.

"looks like a couple of love-birds stole our spot guys" a man spoke up, his voice already pissing you off. Johnny could tell and throws the teens a glare.

"knock it off man, we were hear first" he tossed his beer bottle aside and keeps a eye on the jerks.

"oh yeah? We don't care, now beat it before you regret it losers!" a girl said from the girl, laughing along with the other man and girl in the car. Johnny jumps down from the hood of your camaro and looks them up and down.

"I Think you'll be the ones to regret it if you don't take you're pansy ass's down the road" johnny threatens. You stand beside him and watch how the man who spoke before gets out of the car along with the other one, the two girls staying put.

"shit, what are you doing do about it blondie? Braid our hair?" they laugh, but you felt anger boiling up within you at the goons.

"he's gonna break you're nose, or maybe I will" you growl at the men, making them burst out laughing. Johnny tenses his jaw, fists clenched. You could feel anger rolling off him. But you place a hand on his shoulder calming him down somewhat.

"like you could even throw a punch!" they laughed, really testing your patience. "you're nothing but a -

"a what?! Uh? " johnny seethes, blue eye's fixated a hard gaze on them.

"a little bitch" and that was all it took to have you pounce, shoving passed Johnny and using all the lessons and training your father taught you, kicking, punching and dodging like a professional. Your movements was fast, swift. You didn't even realize it but Johnny was stood frozen in his place, heart pounding, eye's glued to you absolutely kicking those men's ass. He knew he should have helped you, but he couldn't, he was hypnotized by you, how gorgeous you looked, how absolutely sexy it was with how you showed these jerks no mercy....

When the fight was over with the men left in a hurry, faces bruised and swollen, noses bleeding. You smirk and turn around to see Johnny in a trance, his eyes on you as his lips was parted in amazement.

"that was... Wow...." he muttered, causing you to laugh at him, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'm obliged to have you staring at my ass the whole time Lawrence" you say, making him blush and began to stutter. "now I do believe we have a whole bag of chocolates to finish" you say hoping back up onto the hood of the car, eye's watching Johnny with amusement.

"I wasn't staring at you're ass!" he tried to explain but you laugh and shake your head at him. He hops up beside you and watched you open a chocolate bar and take a bite, offering him a bite from yours he indulges. His eyes unable to leave you.

"you have chocolate on your face" you giggle at him, when he goes to wipe it off he completely missed, so you take your thump and wipe it off the corner of his lips, pausing for a moment to take in how close your faces were, his blue eye's locked on your own y/e/c one's. You lean in closer, his breath fanning over your face as you feel his nose slightly bump yours.

He was the one that closed the distance between you, his soft lips moving against yours in a frantic passionate way, his hand instantly on the back of your neck pulling you closer to him, causing you to let out a little sound of surprise into the kiss. Smiling as you placed a hand on his chest, but your lungs longed for air, forcing him to pull away and smile down at you. You felt a flutter in your heart at the way he looked at you in that moment, with such love and affection, a sparkle you'd never forget...

Although Johnny knew that was when he fell in love with you, you knew he had feelings for you at the beginning.

Standing in your father's dojo you practiced moves on a dummy, practicing more so on your kicks, roundhousing and trying to practice getting your legs up higher with each brutal kick you landed. Watching from Afar was Johnny and his friends. Watching how your father teaches you different techniques. Johnny let's a little grin spread across his face, eye's glued to you.

"she's hot, look at how powerful those kicks are" Tommy said, making Johnny smack his arm.

"that's my girl, shut up" he said, eye's never leaving you.

"God her thighs are so freaking toned!" another said. But luckily Johnny didn't hear, to caught up in how you landed one final kick, earning criticism from your father. He stormed off and you looked over at Johnny and wink.

He was absolutely smitten with you. Even though you was kreese's daughter you and you was both dating in semi secret, he couldn't take his eyes off you. He fell hard for you...

A/n: here it is! I hope you like darling! Sorry if it took a bit long to write, and I apologize if it's not good👉👈🥺

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #Johnny Lawrence imagine #william zabka #cobra kai #the karate kid #daniel larusso

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 3 years

Note

Fake dating au where demetris on his third strike with the school counselor so when they're about to fight again he holds his hand instead. Hawk cant help but blush and counselor Blatt jumps to conclusions and tries to be overly accepting

PFFFFT okay this is fuckin great

Like I’m just imagining Demetri doing the PETTIEST bullshit to get back at Hawk for that destroying-his-science-project business, like he writes “COBRA KAI SUCKS” all over his locker in sharpie in cleverly-disguised handwriting or pours soda on Hawk’s karate equipment and tough dude sportsballs (because come ON--Eli’s had the same locker combination for years, and just because he’s badass now doesn’t mean it would occur to him to change it) or steals his portable hair gel so that the ‘hawk will be sad and sagging by 6th period, and as soon as Hawk catches on to what’s going on, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out who’s behind all this chicanery. And he fuckin goes RIGHT up to Demetri during the next passing period (he knows exactly what part of the school that little nerd is in because he figured out and memorized Demetri’s class schedule SOLELY for harassment purposes and not because he likes him or anything) like “BRO YOU WANNA GO YOU WANNA FUCKIN GO” and Demetri gets ready to fight like “COME AT ME ASSHOLE” and Demetri’s getting ready to throw the world’s meanest punch to start the brawl (because his douchebag ex-best-friend ain’t the only one who can strike first) when the accursed Counselor Blatt rounds the corner.

She turns and fixes an icy glare right on them, and Demetri has to think fast. He unclenches his fist mid-punch and wraps a hand around Eli’s wrist. Eli’s hand flexes out in surprise, and before he can react, Demetri’s fingers have found their way up his wrist and laced with his own. Hawk’s face goes redder than his (already, sadly, beginning to sag) mohawk.

And fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hawk was absolutely not prepared for this. He absolutely was not prepared for the same goddamn helpless sensation of vertigo to hit as that time he held Demetri’s hand during Red Rover in the 6th grade (how in the hell did a couple of losers like them get invited to play, anyways? The teacher probably made the other kids include them or something). And Hawk fucking hates how warm and pleasant Demetri’s hand feels in his own, and how it fills him with the same hopeless longing that he hoped he could punch away into oblivion as soon as Kreese started training him.

But here comes that stupid-ass counselor, and something tells him that now is not the time to yank his hand away and slam Demetri into the lockers behind them, no matter how much he would like to.

“Demetri? Eli?” Counselor Blatt looks back and forth between the two of them, perplexed. “What’s this?”

“What’s what, Counselor Blatt?” Demetri pulls Hawk closer and swings his other arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Hawk can only bristle in barely-concealed rage.

“Did I just...see you about to punch Eli?” she continues. “When you’ve been to our seminar on respectful alternatives to physical aggression?”

“Oh no, you misunderstand!” Demetri laughs, and Hawk wants to smack him. God, his laugh is annoying. He’s annoying. Hawk wants to scream into a wall and he’s not sure why.

“I was just in a hurry to hold my boyfriend’s hand,” he goes on gleefully. “I haven’t seen him all day! Is that okay with you, Counselor Blatt?” He gives the counselor a challenging stare, and Hawk almost feels sorry for the woman and how utterly lost she is.

“I thought you were upset with Mr. Moskowitz here for ruining your science project,” Counselor Blatt says slowly.

“Oh, that?” Demetri snorts. “We were just on a little break. I think that was my indication that good ol’ Eli wasn’t taking it too well. But we worked everything out, and it’s alllll good now!”

He gives the counselor his most winning grin, and Hawk just turns to gape at him. Out of all the absurd directions Demetri could’ve taken this thing, framing him throwing a soccer ball across the cafeteria to smash Demetri’s project as a couple’s fight was one Hawk had not seen coming.

But then again...that did kind of let him off the hook, didn’t it? If all of his messing with Demetri was nothing but silly relationship drama. After all, Counselor Blatt hadn’t lifted a finger when the utter spectacle that was Kyler and Sam LaRusso’s breakup had ravaged the school’s gossip chain.

“You know, you really should be more accepting of LGBT relationships,” Hawk says, making a point to pull out the kicked puppy expression. “It’s hurtful enough that my boyfriend and I get as many stares as we do from other students.”

“I...! Well! I mean!” Counselor Blatt splutters, looking everywhere but their eyes. “I think it’s great you boys are able to...express yourselves so freely! I want this school to be an environment where students of all sexualities are able to be themselves. I’m so happy West Valley High is such a diverse place!” She smiles, brightly but still very confused.

“With all due respect, Counselor Blatt, we’re not just some token gay couple.” Hawk doesn’t let up on the puppy dog eyes. “We’re just two guys who love each other. That’s all. All we want is to be accepted for who we are.”

He feels Demetri stiffen beside him with surprise, but the grip on his hand and around his shoulder doesn’t loosen in the slightest.

Demetri’s really acting like he doesn’t want to let go. He’s really committing to this façade.

Makes sense. When they were in middle school, Demetri always tried to be the class clown--not that it ever worked. Eli would always cheer him up by insisting he had a natural talent for improv. The kid isn’t half bad at acting, he’ll admit.

“And...you are accepted!” Counselor Blatt reassures awkwardly. “I’m...sorry I misunderstood your relationship, boys. I should be better about checking my heterosexual privilege.”

“Not to worry!” Demetri says cheerily. “Anyone who works at being a good ally to the community is always appreciated!”

Hawk resists the urge to roll his eyes. What was this, a fucking gay Sesame Street episode?

“Sorry again, Demetri. Eli. Have a nice day.”

As soon as Counselor Blatt shuffles around the corner and out-of-sight, Hawk tears his hand away (as...reluctant as he admittedly is to do so. Feeling another hand curled around his made him feel calmer and safer than he had in months, no matter what utter pussy’s it was. Disgusting. Kreese would never train him again if he found out, that was for sure.). He shoves Demetri hard--not into the lockers, not in any way that’ll make a noise to be noticed, but enough to knock the wind out of that fucking runt.

“What the fuck was that?” Hawk snarls.

Demetri crosses his arms and glowers at him. “I just saved both of us from a month of detention. It was only so long before she figured out Cobra Kai’s the aggressor around here just as much as Miyagi-Do is.”

Hawk surges forward and tries to shove him again, but Demetri is ready this time and quickly blocks. “What the hell was your grand plan, anyways?” he scoffs. “Pick a fight with me in the middle of the school day?”

Demetri sighs, starting to back away. “Eli, Eli, Eli. I know you’ve got a good brain in there, buddy. Maybe start using it, if all the punches to the head haven’t messed it up too much.”

He taps his head a couple times before turning and disappearing into the throng of students around them. Hawk groans.

Mitch doesn’t make matters better as they walk away. “Dude, were you blushing?”

“Shut the fuck up, man! I was just fucking embarrassed!”

Bert sniggers. “I’ll say. Should I start planning the wedding?”

“Don’t make me fucking deck you! Look...he wanted to stay out of trouble, and I realized I could spin it to our advantage. So I did. We’re in the clear for now.”

“Yeah, only took a bit of...hand-to-hand combat,” Mitch snickers. “What’s next? Judo wrestling him in the janitor’s closet?” He and Bert break out in giggles, and Hawk shoots them both his most seething glare.

“If you mention any of this to Sensei Kreese, I will kill you,” Hawk growls.

“Fair enough,” Mitch says, shrugging. Bert nods in agreement.

Hawk reminds himself to wail especially hard on both of them during practice today.

#hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #eli x demetri #demetri x hawk #elimetri #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #counselor blatt #mitch cobra kai #bert cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai season 3 #hawk #demetri #eli #my askbox

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karatekels · 1 year

Text

Songbird

Original prompt: (from dioswry on Ao3)

this time ck Terry pls. reader who’s younger, got to know him years later after kk3 happened where he was at his lowest point in life. with time he told her about everything he’s done but she never judged him for it and continued to help him through that tough time cause she’s too good-hearted. years later and married, kreese visits them and she has to watch her husband who’s been living a happy and healthy life with her, turn into someone she doesn’t recognize anymore. wouldn’t mind some darker smut there at the end. maybe with choking? 👀

---

Okay, I *love* this request! I hope I do it justice for you – the flashbacks at the beginning are my favourite things I’ve written, I think!

I can’t remember who it was on Tumblr who pointed out that “Time of the Season” is a perfect song for Terry, but that’s why I’ve used it, so thank you, person I can’t remember!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SO MANY (mostly choking, dubcon/noncon or at least some questionable bdsm)

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// 1998 //

Knocking back his drink without a second thought, Terry Silver raises his hand, snapping to get the attention of the waiter who scurried off to get him another bottle. Taking another puff of his cigar and deeply wishing that it was something stronger, he stares blankly out in the dark lounge, tuning out the sights and sounds of everyone around him. How exactly had things come to this?

Everything around him had fallen to shit.

Dynatox had not done well in the 90s, environmentalists constantly on his ass with lawsuits, whining about their treatment of some shithole country or another. When had everybody gotten so damn sensitive? The company was still getting by, trying to shift into information technology, but with the company name in the mud, competitors weren’t exactly interested in a merger.

He wonders what Margaret would think of him now, sighing heavily as he recalled his favourite employee’s passing two years prior. She had been the closest thing he’d had to a confidante, and he hadn’t found anyone to fill her shoes. He didn’t have anyone anymore…

He shakes his head, quickly taking another large drink the instant the waiter returned with a new bottle. He would not think of John. After more than a decade of trying to hunt down the man following the disastrous events of the late eighties, Cobra Kai shutting down for good, Terry had resigned himself to the idea that Kreese was as good as dead to him.

In short, he had no one, nothing, and no idea of where to go from here. Was there even a point in trying anymore? He was pushing forty…

The band strikes up a sultry tune, and Terry stands to leave, the thought of having to endure people around him enjoying themselves making him want to hit something. Throwing some bills on the table, he turns, making for the door.

It’s the time of the season When love runs high…

Terry freezes where he stands, feeling like the air had been torn from his lungs. That voice…

In this time, give it to me easy And let me try with pleasured hands To take you in the sun to promised lands To show you every one It’s the time of the season for loving…

He turns, going back to his table as if pulled by a magnetic force, his eyes tracking down the source of the singing. Her voice was hauntingly beautiful, like a siren’s song, and incredibly seductive. Looking over to the stage, he sees her: a gorgeous young woman in a slinky, glittering dress, her eyes closed as though she was in a trance as she croons into the old-fashioned microphone. Terry finds himself incredibly moved, feeling emotions stirring within him that he hasn’t felt in years; and some that he’s never experienced.

He remains in his seat until you finish your set.

---

“You’re here again,” comes a voice from behind him, sounding amused. Terry turns, irritated that someone was interrupting his brooding – he had come for his songbird, only to find out she wasn’t performing tonight, and was quite put out.

It’s her.

You manage to look ethereal even without the stage lights and costume, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, a leather jacket over your arm. Terry is briefly flabbergasted, giving you enough time to pull out one of the empty seats at his table, making yourself comfortable.

“You’re here a lot,” you continue, surveying the handsome man before you and trying to get a read on him. You had noticed him over the past few weeks, always at the same table, always looking lost, and couldn’t help yourself any longer; you needed to know his story.

“You’re very good,” he replies, looking at you with a slightly bewildered expression. You get the sense that he isn’t used to feeling anything but confident, and decide to pull back a bit.

“Thanks,” you say, smiling at him. He would open up in time.

“Tyler, get me a gin and tonic,” you call over to your friend the bartender, not taking your eyes off of the man. He gives you a curious expression.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

Tyler brings your drink over, and you take a long sip before answering him. You don’t get the sense that he’s upset that you’ve joined him, quite the contrary, but you could tell that he was a bit unsettled by your unpredictability. You lean forward with an elbow on the table, resting your chin on your palm as you look over at him.

“Making a friend.”

You see the man try to bite back a smile, but he isn’t entirely successful, the expression breaking across his face and taking your breath away. You hold your hand out towards him.

“I’m Y/N L/N, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Terry Silver,” he replies, shaking your hand. You must be imagining the little sparks of electricity that seem to flow between your clasped hands, but find yourself scooting your chair closer to him anyway.

“So, what brings you here so often? You’ve become a real, brooding regular,” you ask, curious about the man. He dressed like money but seemed to show up at all times of the day, making a regular job seem unlikely. He looks at you over his drink, seeming nervous as he considers how to reply. Was he about to tell you he was in the mob, or something?

He looks at the floor briefly, as if gathering his resolve, and when his eyes meet yours again, there’s a strange mixture of confidence and vulnerability in them that has your heart skipping a beat.

“To be perfectly honest, Y/N, listening to you sing has become just about the only good thing in my life.”

---

// 2003 //

“He just comes out and says that to her, within minutes of her sitting down at the table!” Tyler exclaims, laughing along with the rest of your guests. “If she hadn’t snuck up on him and introduced herself first, I think he might still be at that table, pining over her! But instead, she made the first move and turned Terry’s life around over a few gin and tonics, which you still haven’t paid for, by the way,” he says teasingly, turning to point a finger at you accusingly.

“But that was the story of how we all came to be here today, celebrating these two and the love they share, and I’m glad they’ve gotten their fairytale ending. To Y/N and Terry!” he cries, raising his glass, and the toast is echoed around the reception hall by your friends and family.

Your wedding wasn’t the elaborate ceremony that you knew Terry had initially plotted; it was still large, and very luxurious, of course, but didn’t quite constitute a spectacle, for which you were grateful. The engagement photos that had been plastered all over the tabloids for the past eight months had been more than enough public insight into your private life, thank you very much.

Terry had apparently understood that he had pushed the publicity a bit too much, and had settled for a more intimate, secluded ceremony by way of apology. You knew that he meant well by it; he absolutely adored you, and he hadn’t been able to resist his urge to show you off to the world at any point over the past four and a half years of your relationship.

You had fallen for one another so quickly; you had quickly become friends with the tall, handsome stranger that came to the lounge night after night to hear you sing, trying to figure out what made him tick. He’d opened up to you quickly, seemingly unable to control the urge to tell you everything about himself, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him seated at your table when you walked on stage.

You started out talking with him after your set, often staying until the bar closed and Tyler kicked the two of you out, but as you had gotten closer you started meeting him outside of the lounge as well. He had been struggling when you’d first met, and he often came to you for your opinion or advice, seeking you out like you had all the answers. You were happy to be there for him, and had started opening up to him as well, the two of you flourishing in each other’s presence.

You were the first person he came to when he successfully merged his company with several small IT firms, wrapping you up in a hug and kissing you soundly, the kiss that began your romantic relationship. You had celebrated subsequent successes as Dynatox reclaimed its status as a leading company in the country, as well as your own career milestones: selling your first song to a top recording artist and watching it reach number one on the charts, buying the lounge with Tyler with your own hard-earned money… you had been there for all of your greatest successes, and your moments of struggle and heartbreak, and you couldn’t have imagined a better partner.

“I can’t wait to get you alone, Mrs. Silver,” Terry purrs in your ear. You shiver in delight, blushing as you think about the bridal lingerie you had in your suitcase for your wedding night together. Terry would go crazy for the white garter belt, the fasteners for your garter monogrammed with T.S. in, of course, silver.

Turning to look at your man – your husband, you correct yourself with a smile – you take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous he looks in his tuxedo, the violets decorating your table bringing out the blue in his eyes even more. You give him a look of pure adoration, trying to convey all the emotions you felt for him in a single look, and he gives you your favourite lopsided grin in return.

“I love you, Terrance,” you whisper breathlessly, your voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe I’m your wife,” you say, feeling the comforting weight of your new wedding band on your finger. Terry strokes your cheek with a knuckle, cupping your face in his large hand and staring at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’ll be happy to remind you any time you need, Y/N,” he promises, leaning forward to kiss you passionately.

---

// 2019 //

You sigh, watching the sun set over the horizon, the end to another day. Standing, you move to clear the dishes, Terry’s plate untouched next to the vase of violets that you had placed in the center of the table, hoping it would maybe trigger a memory for him.

But he hadn’t shown at all, not even today, your anniversary. You had been together for twenty years now, and married for sixteen, and somehow you feel like you knew your husband less now than the first night that you’d spoken at the lounge, all those years ago.

For almost two decades, you had had a picture perfect relationship, then marriage. More than picture perfect, your love for each other when far beyond surface appearances. Your bond had only strengthened over the years; you had long been one of the Valley’s “It” couples, turning your respectable careers into dozens of philanthropic ventures, doing your part to help improve the community that had brought the two of you together.

But then, last year, there was a knock at your door, and if you had known who had been on the other side, and what they would end up doing to your life, to your marriage, to the love of your life, you would’ve barricaded the door with everything you had. Instead, you had opened it, leading John Kreese right to Terry, his poison infecting your husband’s mind almost immediately. You had heard the name before, long ago, but Terry had categorized the man as being firmly in the past – which usually meant the war – and you hadn’t thought that you’d need to remember it.

Almost overnight, you’d watched your warm, trusting Terry become ruthless, paranoid, conniving. He had taken up a leadership position in his old dojo, Cobra Kai, at Kreese’s request, but this wasn’t like the kata that you had seen him practice for fitness or mindfulness. This was violent, and that was only what you’d seen of it; he’d been keeping you in the dark as much as possible.

He had started coming home later and later, skipping meals, cancelling obligations you’d made with charities months in advance at a moment’s notice, and more recently had just stopped coming home at all some nights. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a conversation that had gone beyond him telling you that he was leaving for the day, and the realization makes your heart ache.

You sit back in your chair, dishes forgotten, trying not to sob. You were just so lonely now that Terry was gone. It wasn’t just that you had lost a husband; you had lost your best friend, the person you had looked forward to waking up beside every day for years. He was your other half, and without him you felt like a shell of yourself.

You hear a faint crash from somewhere in the house and choose to investigate, looking for anything to distract you from your misery. You find Terry, stumbling around one of the wine cellars, muttering to himself. You lean against the doorframe, your arms crossed, wondering how long it will take him to even notice you were there. Eventually, he turns around, and you see how disheveled he truly is, his eyes out of focus.

“You’re drunk?” you ask, appalled.

“Johnny bought beer,” he slurs by way of explanation. You wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you say, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Two weeks until the All Valley!” he cries, his eyes shining brightly. “There’s so much to do!”

“It’s our twentieth anniversary, Terrance.”

Terry is quiet for a moment, considering this, his lips pursed. Finally, he sighs, shrugging slightly.

“Sorry, love. Duty calls.”

“Duty? You mean John?” you snap, unable to keep the venom from your voice. You truly hated the man. He gives you a cold, strangely blank stare.

“I owe John everything,” he retorts firmly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

You know that this is the wrong time for this conversation; you’re upset, he’s drunk, but what choice did you have? He was never around anymore.

“How can that possibly be, Terry? We’ve been together for twenty years, and you maybe mentioned him three times before he came and knocked on our door. He never visited, you hated talking about him – he never even came to our wedding! How can someone you’ve fought so hard to forget suddenly come in and ruin everything?” you finally bring yourself to ask the questions that have been plaguing you for weeks now, tears falling down your face.

He takes in your shaking form with a confused expression, like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying, or why.

“I have to do this. Cobra Kai is our legacy, my legacy.”

“This isn’t you, Terry! I swear, I don’t even recognize you anymore! Where is my Terry?” you ask desperately, looking for any trace of the man that you fell in love with. He gives you a hard look.

“That was what you made me. What I made myself, for you. This is what I am.”

“That’s not true!” you choke out, your legs feeling wobbly underneath you, threatening to give out. Never, in all your years together, not even in these past few rocky months, would you have expected Terry to be capable of hurting you this way. He turns away from you dismissively, going back to looking for, presumably, wine, and you lean back against the wall for support, feeling hopeless.

On a whim, and unsure if you’re doing it more to soothe yourself or in some last ditch effort to reach out to Terry, you start to quietly sing to yourself, the lyrics from the song you first danced to on your wedding day coming to mind.

What day is it And in what month? This clock never seemed so alive…

You see Terry freeze, his spine stiffening as he hears you singing, keeping his back to you.

I can’t keep up, and I can’t back down I’ve been losing so much time…

“That’s enough, Y/N,” he growls out over your voice, turning to look at you with frustration. Stubbornly, you continue, seeing enough of your Terry still somewhere in there and determined to bring him out.

‘Cause it’s you and me And all of the people with nothing to do Nothing to lose…

“Stop it, right now,” he demands, his voice getting louder as he walks over to you, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. You glare up at him through your tears, ignoring his request.

And it’s you and me And all of the people And I don’t know wh–

“I said stop!” he roars, slamming his palms on the wall to either side of you. Your jaw snaps shut, staring up at him with wide eyes. His own eyes close, and he breathes heavily for a moment.

“You can’t do this, Y/N,” he murmurs, frustration in his voice. “I don’t need this right now.”

“But I need you, Terry!” you cry out, reaching up to clutch his face, trying to pull him down to look at you. “I need my husband! I can’t stand seeing you pull away from me anymore!”

“I can’t have you close to this, Y/N,” he admits desperately.

“Why? We’ve told each other everything for years, Terry! When have I ever given you reason to think that I won’t support you through…whatever this is?”

“You’ll get hurt, Y/N. I’ll hurt you.”

“I’m not scared of you, Terry. Try me,” you insist, nearly growling at him. His eyes flash, and between one blink and the next he’s pinning you against the wall with a hand around your neck, squeezing.

“Is that so, love? You think that you can handle this? Think you can handle me?” You nod frantically the best you can with his hand around your throat, trying not to panic. He kisses your cheek sloppily, seemingly overtaken by the alcohol in his system once more.

“Silly songbird,” he clucks drunkenly, using his old pet name for you, and the sound of it makes your heart ache. “Spent all your time in the bright lights; you don’t even know what can be in the shadows…”

He slowly releases his grip on your neck, and in a brazen moment, you grab his hand with your own, keeping it in place. He looks into your eyes for what feels like the first time in forever, and you think you can see your love somewhere in those blue eyes.

“Show me,” is all you say. You’d promised to stay by him in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part, and if that meant sinking down to the depths of depravity with him in order to stay by his side, then so be it. His eyes glitter at you briefly, and then he’s kissing you fiercely, his lips and tongue and teeth claiming dominance over your body, lifting you clean off the ground and pinning you against the wall.

You whimper, trying to wrap yourself around him to keep from falling, clinging to him desperately as he ravages you.

“You’re going to regret saying that,” he promises, and you nod vigorously, wanting to have him any way you could get him at this point, after having gone so long without feeling connected to him at all.

“I need you, Terry, please. Let me be what you need,” you beg, squirming out of his grip and dropping to your knees on the hard floor, reaching up to free his cock from his pants. He makes a noise of approval, tangling his hand in your hair roughly and tugging you to take him in your mouth. He is anything but gentle, fucking your face hard and fast until you’re choking around him, gasping for breath.

“So pretty, crying for more of my cock,” he purrs, patting your wet cheek fondly as he thrusts his hips forward. You’re a sniffling mess around him, but you continue to bob your head back and forth, sucking him off like your life depended on it. It did, in a way; your life was nothing without him.

He grunts in exertion from how he’s using your mouth, pulling you off his dick with a ‘pop!’ of your lips and all but throwing you over to a tasting table. How oddly appropriate.

Hopping up onto it, Terry stalks over to you, unceremoniously reaching under your skirt and tearing off your underwear. Pulling you to him in one fluid motion, he spears you on his cock, sliding you back and forth along the table, his grip punishing on your hips. You reach your arms over your head, gripping the far edge of the table and holding on for dear life as Terry fucks you harder than you would have thought possible; you feel like you’re going to break in half, and yet all you want is more.

It’s like you’re making up for weeks of lost time, concentrating every bit of lust and need you’ve felt into this moment, worried you won’t know when you’ll get another opportunity to be with him again. He pulls out briefly to turn you over, flipping up your skirt before entering you again, kneading your ass roughly.

“You’ve screamed this pretty throat raw, haven’t you, my little songbird?” he growls, his hand coming around you to squeeze your neck again. You hadn’t even registered that you’d been screaming up to this point, but feel the burn in your throat suddenly as Terry’s hand comes around you. Nodding frantically, you try to hold still as he pounds into you from behind, the hard wood of the table pressing into your hips in a way that you know would leave bruises.

“I want to hear you sing, little bird,” he hisses, pulling you up by your neck to arch against him, and you keen as the new angle stretches you. He laughs under his breath at the sound, sounding slightly delirious. “I should keep you in your cage, and you’ll stay mine forever.”

He wasn’t making any sense; he was making perfect sense.

“I’m yours, baby, I’m here for you!” you cry out, tears rolling down your face, and this seems to be the confirmation he needed as he thrusts deep inside you, coming hard with a roar. He collapses on top of you, still with a hand around your neck, though he’s not squeezing anymore, letting you both get your breath back.

“I don’t care if you drag yourself all the way to hell, Terrance” you tell him breathlessly, panting heavily beneath him. “Just as long as you drag me down with you.”

“Fair play, Mrs. Silver,” he concedes, his face sweaty, hair mussed. “I’ve missed you.”

---

I don’t even know what this is but I’m screaming at it.

#terry silver #terry silver x reader #thomas ian griffith #cobra kai #smut #kk3 #karate kid #the karate kid 3 #i'm going to hell #dubcon #dubious consent #choking

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 3 years

Text

FLIES THE HAWK pt 24

Master list

Over the next few days you spend a lot of time watching the Miaygi-do and Eagle fang kids sparing together with both Sensie's. You even started to enjoy it. At some point the two men decided that they should learn each others style of karate and so everyone had a few days off of training.

You had spent the day with everyone at Sam's house in her pool, though you had elected not to swim and stayed in your long sleeved top on. Eli had gone for a swim but spent most of his time beside you. He had dyed his mohawk purple.

"You like it?" He asked with a big grin.

"I do," you giggle.

"It matches yours." He said running your hair through his fingers.

"I noticed." your put your hand in his and he pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

It had been nice to spend time with the group, you even spent some time getting to know the others a bit more. As evening started to fall Eli drove you both home. He stopped outside your house.

"I need to grab some bits from mine. Do you want to come with me?"

You think for a moment.

"I'll be okay, just don't be too long." You say before getting out of the car and walking up to your house. The front door was open and you felt nerves clenching at your throat.

"Hello?" you call in.

"Hi." Robby's voice was stern and it ran you cold.

"What are you-?"

"I came to talk to you. I saw Sam the other day and I realised Tory was wrong, but I see it doesn't matter." he gestured to the window.

"Eli is just helping to look after me, you know your Cobra Kai friends broke in here and tried to attack me?" You had found confidence from somewhere.

"They did what?" He moved closer to you, "I didn't know."

"Oh really? How could you not know?" You started to raise your voice.

"Y/n, look I do care about you, I just need Kreese right now. With the way my dad has been I just need him." Robby tried to explain.

"No you need to be with your friends. you'd have all of us if you just stopped being so blinde."

"I can't leave yet, there is a kid; I was at juvy with his brother, he needs my help." Robby looked conflicted.

"You could help him at Miyagi-do."

He shakes his head.

"Its complicated. Just, I can't handle someone else hating me. Please don't." His voice was quiet.

"I don't hate you, Robby. It's just Cobra kai frightens me. You should go. Eli will be back soon." You say moving away from him.

"You love him don't you?" He asked.

You huffed.

"God you boys are jealous all the time."

Robby looked down, nodded and left the house through the back door. It wasn't long before Eli was knocking at the front.

"Hey, every thing okay?" He asked walking over to you. You nod.

"Yeah I think I just wanna go to bed." You say walking toward the stairs.

"Sure okay, I'll um, I'll just set up down here." He patted the pile of blankets your friends had been using. You say goodnight and go up stairs, washing your face and getting into a set of pyjama shorts and a strap top. You kept thinking about Eli down stairs. You had liked him for so long, and he was definitely trying to be a good person now. You weren't sure, but part of you wanted to go down to him, to let him kiss you and hold you. It had felt so good waking up in his arms.

Sitting on your bed you opened instagram going through his photos, until you fell asleep.

There is spicey spice coming but how hot do you want it???

🌶 = just a little but not too far

🌶🌶= I wanna see it like looking through the key whole

🌶🌶🌶= whooe, I'm gunna need a cold shower let me know in the comments.

Pt25

@peppamultifanimagines @shaybot12 @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @filmfvckers @morganaah @lulubutton34 @carliim @buckysdemonsimp @space-helicopter @slytherinroyalty16 @shotosgirl @hannyhoe @torynichcls @hurricanerex666 @sabrinablack1 @haruuww @sarcastically-defensive17 @1-fuzzy-squirrels

#fanfiction #eagle fang karate #eli moskowitz #eli x reader #hawk moskowitz #hawk x reader #cobra kai fanfic #danny larusso #sam larusso #johnny lawrence

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usaonetwothree · 3 years

Note

First of all thank you thank you thank you so much for the johnny whump!!!

Also wondering if there's any chance you will be writing any johnny whump featuring more johnny/Carmen? Maybe an extension of that part of The Agreement where she's examining his injuries? The thought just gives me total whumperflies!

Thank you so much for the message, Anon!! And you're most welcome! The show is just teeing it up so nicely. I'm really just continuing what they started :)

I hadn't thought about an interlude to The Agreement, but now my plot bunnies are going. Give me a few weeks to see what I come up with! I'll post it here for sure, and if it's long enough, I'll copy it over to ao3 as a second chapter.

In the interim, I have the start of a whumpy two-chapter fic that I don't know if I'm going to finish. Working summary is "Johnny doesn't have time to get sick. Besides, it's just food poisoning... right?" I'll post the completed first chapter below, and the plan for chapter two would be from Carmen's point-of-view from the ambulance ride through surgery and Johnny finally waking up. I wrote a lot of the ideas I had for her part into Conflict, which is why I think I'm stalled on it here in coming up with something different. I don't know how long it'll take me to figure that out (if ever) but at least you'll have the first chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Thank you again for the kind message!

Pain exploded in his side, worse than he’d ever felt before. He had reference for this: he’d torn, strained, bruised, strained, dislocated and broken many things in the past. This pain blew them all away. It was he’d been stabbed with a hot knife up to the hilt, and someone was twisting it around in his guts.

His hand went to the area, came away warm, but he wasn’t bleeding. Felt like it. Felt oozing and wet and raw.

Somehow, above the nausea, above the stabbing ache in his head, he knew this was serious. And he needed help.

He couldn’t remember where his phone was. Didn’t have time to stop and think.

With every inch of his skin on fire, he leveraged himself off the couch and almost screamed as utter agony raced up his side. His knees buckled but he didn’t let himself fall. If he did, he knew he wouldn’t get back up.

Partially hunched over, he stumbled forward, careful not to jar his torso. He caught the door before the handle, barely cracking it open before he almost fell through. He jabbed his right elbow into the stucco wall, used that as a guide.

Elbow on the wall, left hand on his abdomen, trying to hold whatever was wrong in. One foot in front of the other.

It was the only thing going through his head.

Left.

Right.

Left.

A chill tore up his spine. His brain went fuzzy for a second and his elbow came away from the wall.

He almost went down again, caught himself at the last second. Leaned so far right he almost bashed his head into the stucco.

But he was vertical again.

He kept going until he hit another door.

The door that could help him.

Everything hurt now. He was sweating, burning up. His eyes felt like they were bulging out of his head, and his limbs were trembling.

He tried to knock, lost his balance. Went down in a heap of limbs.

His side crashed into the ground and fire tore through his abdomen, pain so sharp and intense he couldn’t speak—couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think.

He thought he smelled something familiar. Heard something close. Felt something against his forehead.

But it was lost in a wave of blackness.

A * A

Twelve hours earlier…

Daniel LaRusso walked into Miyagi-Fang to hear a sound he was uncomfortably familiar with. As his own stomach churned in sympathy, he stepped closer to the small wood door leading to the bathroom and rapped on it.

“Everything okay?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as the stench filtered out into the dojo.

“Fine,” a thin voice gasped.

“Johnny?” Daniel rapped harder on the door. “Let me in.”

“‘m fine.”

Daniel then heard the toilet flush and someone heave themself upright, before the faucet was turned on.

“Johnny, what’s wrong?” The worst-case scenarios were flashing through Daniel’s head: Johnny had gone after Kreese and gotten his ass kicked, he was drunk and trying to sober up before class…

But when the door slid open and a pale-faced and miserable Johnny stepped out, Daniel knew both were wrong.

“Are you sick?”

Johnny shook his head, then winced. “Don’t think so,” he said as he shuffled to the inlaid bench and sat down, propping his head against his hands with his elbows braced against his knees. “Bologna might have turned."

“I told you you should stop buying that stuff,” Daniel said as he fetched a water bottle from the small fridge and sat down beside Johnny, sliding it between his side and forearms.

“Then what am I going to have for breakfast?” he groaned, ignoring the bottle of water.

Daniel lightly wiggled it so it tapped Johnny’s arm and side. Groaning, the other man straightened up so his head was leaning against the paneling and took the water. “Cereal.”

Johnny took a small sip of the water and grimaced. “Milk goes bad,” he said faster but in a much steadier tone.

“Drink it faster. Or have eggs and bacon.”

Johnny groaned and clenched his jaw as his chest heaved painfully. “No more… food talk,” he ground out.

“Duly noted.” Daniel stood again and grabbed a towel, wetting it in the sink and laying it over Johnny’s forehead as he sat back down.

At first, Johnny pulled back in surprise, the towel slipping, but then he caught it and visibly relaxed.

“Thanks,” he muttered, closing his eyes and resituating the towel.

“How are you going to teach like this?”

“It’ll pass.”

“Uh huh.”

“Weren’t supposed to... be here this early,” Johnny mumbled as he shifted in his seat. He winced again then slowly lowered himself so he was lying on the bench, bringing his socked feet to rest on the wood as well. Daniel, who had originally been in the way, just shifted so Johnny could lie down unimpeded.

“That’s not making me feel a whole lot better.”

“’ll be fine by four,” Johnny replied. “Got like... an hour right?”

“Thirty minutes at best, and you know Miguel is always early.”

“’ll be fine by then,” Johnny repeated, somehow sounding so sure that Daniel found himself believing him.

He stood, then lowered the singular shade over the window. “I’ll come get you before class starts.”

Johnny just shook his head, though Daniel had yet to see his posture actually relax.

And yet, twenty minutes later, Johnny was standing in the backyard, dressed in his gi, looking… surprisingly normal. He was still a little paler than usual, but had clearly tried to push some color back into his face, judging by a few fading streaks on his cheeks.

“How?” was all Daniel could ask. The last time he’d had food poisoning, it had taken him four days and a trip to urgent care before he could leave his bedroom without puking.

“Mind over matter,” Johnny mumbled, straightening up as the kids began to stream in through the door.

That was… bullshit? Unbelievable? Incredible? But at the core of it, so very Johnny.

The kids were so caught up in the latest non-karate drama at the high school that none of them shot Johnny another glance. He did look at Daniel, grinning genuinely, and mouthed, “Thanks.”

Daniel just nodded, then set out doing the last bit of preparations for class.

A * A

If Johnny was being honest with himself, he should have known something else was wrong. His stomach had been hurting all day, even though he’d barely eaten anything since dinner yesterday: fried bologna, ketchup and some leftover rice Carmen had brought a few days ago.

But there was too much going on for him to be sick. There was getting the kids ready for the All-Valley, so they could once and for all remove Kreese from Cobra Kai—not that Johnny would be reinstating that name anytime soon anyway; his budding relationship with Carmen—which Miguel still did not know about; and the knowledge that Robby and a handful of his other students were doing who-knew-what under Kreese’s command.

There wasn’t any time for his problems.

So he’d taken a Tums last night, not really understanding how that had shown up in his medicine cabinet, and tried to sleep it off.

He’d shot awake somewhere around two, tangled in a thin sheet, sweating so badly it felt like he’d just come in from a run. But something else was wrong. His face felt too hot, the skin too tight, and his stomach continued to flip lazily, despite him begging it to stay where it was.

He’d cranked up the fan, and sipped some water, which was a mistake.

His stomach had rolled and he was puking up his meager dinner not long after. He sat there for a long time, head leaning against the cool seat, until he’d fallen asleep. He’d woken again when his forehead slid off the toilet and thudded into the vanity.

He was cool this time, freezing, and shit, that was signs of a fever. That much he knew.

He did not have time for this.

Still on his knees, he managed to reach the shower dial and turn it on. Then he crawled into the tub, clothes still on, and sat there, letting the cool water beat on him while he shivered uncontrollably.

He could not get sick. This had to be a twenty-four hour thing. The kids all came in with their runny noses, who knew what they got into at school. Maybe it was time he caved to LaRusso wanting hand sanitizer stations on the way out for those germ-minded kids.

Eventually the freezing water had become unbearable and he barely managed to reach back high enough to turn it off. Then came the more difficult task of stripping off his wet clothes, which he ended up doing still sitting in the tub, because the act of fighting with his clothes while standing seemed rather exhausting.

But then, he did have to get up, and it took everything he had to stay that way. His head swam and his stomach lurched.

That was when he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach around his navel.

No way this was some sort of flu.

He was reminded of Miguel pulling the package of bologna out of the fridge and frowning at the date. “This is over a week old, Sensei.”

“It’s fine,” Johnny had said.

Miguel had looked a split second away from pitching it, but had put it back in the fridge and chosen the bag of pretzels on the counter instead.

So this was food poisoning. It had to be.

He’d be in for a rough night, but it should be over by tomorrow, when he needed to be at the dojo, when he needed to be on.

The knowledge didn’t make his illness any easier, but it had made it manageable. He’d thrown up a few more times; felt his stomach cramp so severely, it doubled him over; and had eventually fallen asleep on the bathroom floor, ankles bracing the toilet, head leaning back against the far wall.

He didn’t feel better, per say, when he woke, but good enough to haul himself out of the bathroom, change into a loose shirt and sweats, and into the kitchen where he sipped at some OJ, literally the only thing in his entire kitchen that didn’t send his stomach rolling again.

At some point, he’d passed out on the couch watching TV and had jarred awake two hours before class.

He had to be there.

So he’d dry swallowed some aspirin and chewed another Tums, begged whoever was up there to keep them down, and headed out with the OJ tucked under his arm.

He’d barely made it to the dojo when his stomach began to cramp again, induced by the shifting horizons while he was driving. LaRusso found him and his once-nemesis had been surprisingly gentle. When he was better, Johnny owed him more than just a quick thanks for being decent about it, instead of leaving him to suffer on his own.

He’d had to pull over on the way home to puke again. Though he didn’t know what he was bringing up at this point. It was all acid and gunk from what he could see.

He was less than a mile from his apartment complex and he sure as hell wasn’t walking, so he slid back into the car, focused with all his remaining energy and went approximately ten miles an hour in the righthand lane the remaining way.

His fever was kicking up again as he parked, and his stomach began to ache with new intensity. He barely made it to the couch before he was retching again into the bowl he’d so left there earlier for just that purpose.

His head was pounding, his ears ringing, and the pain in his stomach had shifted so it was on his lower right side. He’d bruised a kidney before and it’d hurt in its own way, but it had been nothing like this. He hadn’t even fought anyone since Kreese. Couldn’t risk injuring himself and getting benched. Not with everything that was at stake.

It felt like he was getting the massage from hell, but inside, down in his guts. They were churning, dancing, twisting, oblivious to the pain they were causing. His actual organs hurt, however that was possible.

He sipped at the water, and immediately retched it back up.

Somewhere deep down he knew that was bad. Knew he needed to stay hydrated. Knew he hadn’t drunk enough the past eighteen hours. Knew he could replenish some of it from the shower, but it was so far away.

He just leaned his head against the arm rest, shifting until he found an angle that didn’t make him violently nauseous, and must have passed out.

It was only when he woke up that he knew something was seriously wrong, and that he had to get some help, and ended up passing out again in front of Carmen’s door.

Only it hadn’t been Carmen who answered.

“Sensei!” Miguel shouted, trying and failing to catch the older man. “Mama! Yaya!” he shouted as he dropped to his knees beside his Sensei, whose face was red and flushed but otherwise seemed uninjured.

“Sensei, please.” Miguel begged, tapping Sensei’s face and feeling the heat radiating off it. “MAMA!” he yelled again as he jabbed his fingers into Sensei’s neck, finding a thin pulse.

Then arms were on his shoulders, pulling him away, as his mom replaced him.

“¡Llame una ambulancia!”

Yaya was telling him to back up, was shoving her phone into his hands.

He didn’t remember making the call, but he must have. His mom was trying to rouse Sensei, had unbuttoned his shirt, and was swearing.

“Qué pasa?” Miguel demanded, but she didn’t answer.

“Ice, Miguel,” his mom was ordering, still bent over Sensei. “Quick!”

His feet were moving, grabbing whatever frozen vegetables they had in the freezer and handing them to his mom, who was placing them around Sensei’s neck, under his arms, around his groin.

Sensei groaned, flinched, but didn’t rouse.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel heard himself ask, but his mom was telling Yaya to take him in the apartment instead of responding.

“No!” he shouted, planting his feet. “I'm not leaving.”

His mom turned to look at him, a bit of panic in her eyes before she could hide it. “Go inside, Miggy. Please,” she said very carefully.

As much as Miguel didn’t want to, he did. Until he heard the sirens. Then he was outside the door again, watching as the paramedics swarmed Sensei.

They were asking his mom a bunch of questions and she was rattling off the answers. Then Sensei was on a gurney and they were rolling away and his mother was climbing into the ambulance with him, and then they were gone.

Miguel felt Yaya’s arm wrap around his upper back, not tall enough to reach his shoulders, and he turned and buried her head into her shoulder, letting the tears fall.

#johnny lawrence #carmen diaz #daniel larusso #cobra kai #cobra kai fanfiction #asks #answered #THANK YOU

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