#kreese x reader

[80s4life]

No Time For ‘What If’s?’*

Word Count: 5,096

Status: Requested!

Ask: can I get a SFW/NSFW whatever. Cobra Kai John Kreese x f! reader student (who's 20+ and not in highschool) who sometimes looks at him a certain way but always looks depressed and Kreese took notice... {There's more, but I'm not giving away all the goodies}

@: @harlequinautumn​

Summary: I decided to make this somewhat of a song inspired prompt. This is based off of the song "Daddy Issues" by The Neighborhood. I think you can see where this us going...

Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut, dd/lg type of energy, age-gap, master/sensei/daddy kink, teacher/student kink, READER is in her 20′s, self-consciousness, self-hate, uncomfortable with body issues, appearance, etc.

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist Cobra Kai Masterlist

{Gifs are not mine, credits go to @sensei-venus & @danlarussc​}

Had to put this last gif here because GRAND DADDY...

Scribbling in the notebook, you try to hide the blush on your face with the final thought you write into it. ‘He touched my arm during practice to help me keep my balance. His hand was warm and comforting, yet strong and held the promise of security,’ you smile. It’s childish, you know that, but unlike most of the kids in Reseda, Kreese, or better known as Master Kreese in your diary, was a man. He held a great promise with his status and a stern maturity in his movements and emotions. 

What’s more, he can manage to keep it in his pants, to both your comfort and frustration.

You look up, feeling his eyes on you and your smile instantly drops into a numb pout. You’ve loved him for as long as you could remember. It wasn’t your fault however, as it was never planned. 

He was your Sensei in the beginning, knowledgeable and strong, stoic with knowledge. Somehow, you’d find as the more time you’d spent in his class and in the higher rankings, you grew tired of his teachings and more interested in him as a person. He kept his personal life private and away from public eyes - most certainly the cool teacher you could sneak into a bar or eat at a fast food restaurant with just to hang out. Soon your innocent interest had faded into something carnal, sinful. There was nothing you could do to stop the mind of a young adult, much less one that still held the feelings of her teenage years.

He made you feel like that little 15 year old girl every time he looked at you, unable to see his feelings through any aspect of his body. You could never tell if he was scrutinizing you or just plainly looking. 

“Break’s over guys. Back to the mats!” he commands, eyes sliding from yours to encase the room through a tactical sweep.

Clasping the tiny lock through its metal bearing, you lock your diary with a click and shove it into your drawstring back, hurriedly shuffling back onto the mats to endure your next beating.

After about an hour of endless training without any breaks, Kreese glanced at the watch embracing his veined, muscular wrist, checking the time. Without a word, the class is ordered to do another set of push-ups before he calls it a day. 

Huffing, you grab your tiny towel and lay it across your shoulders, using one of the ends to dab at your forehead. The boys pat you on your back as they start to gather their things, some heading to the showers to wash up quickly, others complaining about the homework they haven’t gotten to yet.

“God am I glad I don’t have to do that shit anymore,” you murmur, giggling as you could hear Tommy groan.

“Can I give you a call later, Y/N? Help me go over my essay for Mr. Whees?” Johnny asks, breathy and miserable.

“Sure Johnny Boy, but you’ll owe me an ice cream cone next time we head to the beach.”

“Sweet! Deal!” he punches your shoulder, speeding out of the dojo to get a headstart on finishing said writing that’s due tomorrow morning.

Giggling, you wave your goodbyes to some of the other guys as you grab your bag, walking slowly towards the showers, feeling the extent of your workout in your calves and knees. Stopping just short of the room, you peer into Kreese’s office, “Sensei?”

“Y/L/N,” he answers, the rumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m gonna head to the showers. It’s going to be a while, so if you need me to lock up, I can.”

“No, you’re fine, Y/L/N. I’ll be working on some paperwork for a while also.”

“Okay, thanks,” you blush, a small smile spreading on your lips as you slink off of the doorframe and continue your way to the showers. 

In your drunken haze of lust, you had seemed to miss Kreese’s eyes slip to your bag, shiny pink diary having poked through the jagged holes in the old drawstring bag. He couldn’t help his curiosity, having taken notice to your attachment to the small object, always writing, always peering over its covers to see if anyone was watching. It was peculiar, and though he had been caught a few times, your reaction and apparent nervousness is what made him want to know exactly what was in that book.

Hearing as the soft hums of pleasure radiates with the heat of the streaming water, Kreese keeps a close eye on where your book lied, checking to see if any of the boys were left in the dojo. Walking towards the chairs at the front of the dojo - where you had last left your drawstring bag - Kreese closes the blinds of the dojo; the appearance of it being closed a small comfort and reassurance of another day spent and gone. No one else will try to come back in, no one will bother him.

He turns to leave and go back to his office, but his feet won’t carry him. Peering down at the loose drawstring bag, pink book still peeking out of its covers, he debates whether or not he should satiate his curiosity or infiltrate your personal space. Choosing the latter, he pulls the book slowly as to not mess with the bag’s positioning too much.

Walking back to his office, he leaves the door open a crack, the sound of the shower humming prompting him to see what’s been eating at him. What has been making you look so enthralled and sad at the same time. What’s been making you so mysterious. 

Kreese almost doesn’t even want to open the book. He knows everything about his students, but you? You’re a mystery. A chase. He almost doesn’t want the high of the cat and mouse game to end. However, he just rolls his shoulders, prying the key to the lock from the bindings you had not-so-subtly tried to hide.

‘Silly Girl. So mature yet so naive,’ he thinks, unlocking the small metal that kept him from his answers.

Leaning back in his chair, he props his feet on his desk, opening the book at last. Shuffling through some pages, he comes to find this pink book as your diary. Delving deeper, he flips through some random pages, the headers and dates catching his eyes and honing in.

January 21st: The Reckoning

This date isn’t far different from any other day, just a date. However, the header is what piques his interest.

‘Another day at the dojo. Another array of cuts and bruises. Johnny and the boys are just finishing their first year as freshmen in highschool and I’m stuck here. 22, young, single, graduated, andddd no life plan ahead of me. I realized that my interest in Sensei Kreese is starting to feel different. I no longer want to know about him, I want to know everything. What type of coffee he likes, if he even likes coffee, what he does in his freetime, what does he like most in a partner? Ugh.’

January 22nd: The Realization

‘Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT! Rereading what I was feeling yesterday and watching it bloom tenfold has finally made me come to my senses. 8 years of practicing with this man and I finally catch whiff of what my so-called “interest” was and I finally come to my senses now? “Stupid Girl” as Kreese would say. Stupid Girl is right!’

A bemused smile perches on Kreese’s lips. It’s like high school all over again, and he’s the center focus. He flips a few pages more.

February 3: Valentines Sluts

‘February has just came around and so has my birthday. However, I keep seeming to find myself going into a Valentines craze. Almost as bad as high school. I stared at Master Kreese for a while during break today (thank God we got one). He was wearing his signature black gi with yellow accents, his arms string with veins of hard labor drawn into them. His hair was a bit scruffier and his eyes were a tired blue. God, how I could get lost in them. My eyes trailed down a bit though. Sorry...not sorry. I used an excuse that I rolled my ankle and needed to rest for a bit, but I only ended up watching him. How he helped the boys stretch and train. He worked so hard that his skin turn a light shade of red, sweat droplets sliding down his forehead to his cheekbones, jaw, down his neck, on his collar bones, and sadly, disappeared down his shirt. Oh what I would give to be that droplet of sweat. Almost as exciting as it would be if I could get him that riled up. Happy almost Valentines Day *winky face with heart eyes drawn on the side of page*’

Kreese lets out a low whistle, chuckling a bit. Suddenly, things were getting steamy. He’s a bit surprised by your diary; such a pristine, put together, grown woman, and here you are, displaying your thoughts like a horny teenager. 

Skipping through more dates, Kreese finds more and more sinful readings, something small turning much greater. However, there were undertones of regret, sadness, and...lack of self worth. Not only have the thoughts gotten increasingly dirtier, but they also grew more insecure and sad. And, as the dates grew closer to present day, it seemed that all confidence and harmless thinking were starting to take a toll. You were no longer happy with yourself, however, you kept writing all your fantasies as if they would make you feel any better.

Finally, Kreese nears the end of your diary. 

Today: Confusion

‘Again, I found myself staring at him. Again, I snuck away to write about him not even 10 feet away. And, again, I find myself no closer and so much farther away from the man I thought I was getting to know. I’m 25 now and still have the mental and physical strength of the lowly 14 year old that met him in high school. I’m starting to fear I will never get to tell him how I feel. Never get to live and explore. Never be enough for him. I almost got caught writing about him today and I couldn’t care less. If anything,  maybe it would be a gateway to romance? Those hot scenarios I’ve built up, gotten off to, and scribbled down in these old pagers. But, those are all just more scenarios and fantasies never lived. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

You go on to think of your past, future, and present, and how any of it was either worth or waste of time. He wants to keep reading - wants to delve deep into your wondrous mind.

He didn’t hear the shower stop, too caught up in the insecurity you call yourself.

“Sensei?” your light voice calls out, hair damp and pinned in a clip. Rugged jeans with rips, converse, and a white cropped tee with black sleeves adorning your delicate features. Your brows are furrowed, a mixture of confusion, loss, and fear flashing in your E/C orbs; rounded by the initial surprise and emotions that cross you in such an unexpected predicament. “W-What are you doing?”

For a moment, Kreese just sits, book still open with the presence of his thumb on the page he’s left off on. He’s silent, studying you as he recounts all that he’s read from your book and more. “Reading your diary,” he states plainly, obviously. Truthfully.

You crumble on the spot, wanting to dig a hole and die in it. “Where’d you find it? Wait - How’d you unlock it?” you all but screech, going straight for your bag. 

Kreese slings out of his chair and around his desk instantly, catching your wrist in the middle of the dojo. 

“What are you doing, Sensei? Can’t you see I’m already embarrassed enough? You’re just making it worse-”

“Is all of this true?” he asks, holding the book up, now closed. His thub no longer holding his place. ‘Shit,’ he thinks, shaking his head.

“It’s a diary, isn’t it?” you try to lighten the mood, scratching the back of your neck and nodding to the front cover plainly stating, ‘DIARY’.

“Yes, but everything inside?”

“Every page, every day, for the past 8 years.” You figure it’s time to come clean, no matter the consequences. This has gone on for long enough, and by the looks of it, he’s not too mad at you. Or happy, or sad. In fact, now that you look at it, he looks as if he feels nothing.

You take a step back, your hand limply being allowed out of its hold, and briskly walk for your bag. Just as you go to walk for the door this time, the same warm, calloused hand wraps itself around your much tinier wrist, yanking you back the other direction. “Sensei, please,” you beg, “Just let me go home! I’ll never bother you again, and you can forget all about this ordeal. It’s really not that big of a deal!”

Pulling you through to his office, he turns and locks the door with a key. To ensure your inability to get out, he takes the key and places it in his front jean pocket and sits down on his side of the desk. Motioning for you to follow his lead, you just stand there.

Almost annoyed, he states, “Well, I’m not going to tell you again,” pointing to the chair opposite him.

Eyes rounded, you stare blankly from his face to the chair and back again. ‘Is he serious?’

Sitting down, you watch in horror as Kreese opens the book back up again, finding a specific page in your novelty of recountments. “Ah, here it is,” he chuckles.

Reading the page out loud, he starts with the header:

“June 11th: Midnight Blues

‘I took some time alone today. It seems everyday is getting harder and harder. Not only am I trying to finish my senior year, but I’m trying to find my way - my path. Sitting on the hood of my car, somewhere tucked behind the Hollywood sign (my hiding spot), I looked up and watched the stars and tried to get my plans in order. 

Mom wants me to go to college in Charleston, SC with her, but Dad wants me to stay somewhere close and doesn’t care if I go to college or not. Mom’s got family down South, Dad has just me. Both are choices I don’t want to make; I don’t want to hurt either or’s feelings.

Then there’s Kreese. God how I love him. If I were to choose to leave or which parent, it would be a choice solely on where he will be or how he feels. But, then again, what does he feel? I mean, he would never look at a little girl like me. It’s disgusting, though I’m legal, and a big inconvenience. A little girl following a man who has seen all parts of the world with her tail wagging and eyes bugging out of her head at the sight of him. He’s grown, experienced, and independent. He would look for someone way older than me for sure. It’s only right, given they would share similar aspects to him. 

No one ever looks at me. And neither will he.’”

“Ring a bell?” he asks, finishing off the page.

“It was the end of senior year and there was a whole ton of shit going on. I don’t remember much, i-it was 4 years ago. All I remember was being diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression sometime afterwards. Though, if I can add to that, I’d had it for years, but neither mom nor dad wanted to get me examined since I was 14. It was a shitshow that summer.”

“Do you really think such heinous things of yourself?” he asks, brows furrowing as he stands, looping around the desk slowly as he assesses you.

“Yes. There’s always been that little voice in the back of my head...” you trail off, fingers interlocking and fiddling to try and ease said stress, eyes locking with his in a trance. 

“Where do you get that shit from?” he almost snarls, making you bow your head in shame. “Ah. Ah. I want to see those pretty eyes.”

“Why’s you read that page to me?”

“I wanted you to feel exactly as you felt then and try to sum up your thoughts and emotions. You see, I study you, and now, I’ve read you. Those feelings were never resolved...Why do you hate yourself so much, Babygirl?”

“I-I.” you stutter, trying to form some sort of answer. “I’ve never sought the validation I’ve needed.”

“And, why not?” he asks, arms splayed behind him and hands propping him up as he leans on his desk before you. Staring down at you.

“Because the only person I’ve ever needed validation from was you.” This time, you stand to meet his level, “I’ve never cared for what my parents thought because they only cared to one-up each other with me as their weapon. I never sought the validation of teachers because they only said what would get them more money in the end - once again, using me. I never sought validation from the girls or the guys at school because I’ve always been the odd one out. The only person I’ve ever sought validation from was you. You because you treated me as equal with the rest of the boys. You saw something in me that made me feel like I shined like a brand new corvette. So, you tell me: why have you always done that, knowing damn well I could’ve gone without it?” You got so close to him that you hadn’t realized the inches between you two, breath heavy with the long-held exasperation. 

“That,” he points at you, “That fire. You’ve always had it. You shined through everyone else and paved your own way without making any noise, or causing any destruction. You’re a strong, beautiful force that somehow has managed to fall over and over again, yet always got back up and never sought anyone’s help.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you’ve finally heard what you’ve always waited for. He’s watched you all along, guided you. He’s ensured your safety since he had met you - 14 years old, scared, weak, and hopeless. You thought you’d never get out of that shithole you were stuck in, but you had Kreese.

Sniffling you couldn’t help your actions, hand grasping his black T-shirt and pulling him in. Your other hand goes for his cheek, cupping it and pulling him down to your height. Slowly, you allow yourself the reprieve of almost a decade with this man, lips just hardly touching each other. You’re waiting - waiting for him to turn his back and pull away, but it doesn’t come. 

His huge hands grasp your waist to pull you in close, one hand leaving your hip to brace the back of your head, connecting his lips to yours. He pulls you as close as he can, your body getting up to straddle him on his desk, his arms crushing you chest to chest.

Your tears mix in to your kiss, the salty droplets of water mixing with the dancing of your tongues and you feel him squeeze. You grab at his shoulder, neck, chest, and soon grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck tenderly; starved for the attention and connection you’ve wished for ever since your teenage years.

He happily obliges, his own hand tangling in your hair at the base of your head and yanking it back - not hard, but strong enough to make you gasp at the excitement, sudden movement, and slight pain it had caused. His lips are on your neck now, suckling and licking at the coloumn of it, growling like a crazed animal about to eat its next meal.

You moan out, the action causing you to gasp again, eyes wide and mortified.

You can feel his cheshire grin on your neck, suckling a huge hickey into your collar bone with pride. Pulling back, he takes a good look at you, breathless, chest bouncing at the force of it, straddling his hips with your slimmer, toned ones - both from young age and practicing in the dojo. 

His hands move from you head and back down to lay on your hips, “Tell me how you want me to take you. Or should I look at one of your excerpts? Hm?” he teases, hazely green eyes turning to dark, mossy embers.

“I’m sure you’ve read enough,” you tease back, breathing out with defeat and humor.

“I can think of something,” he assures.

Standing up, his hands supporting your weight by your thighs, he loops around the desk, placing you to sit on it. Slowly, he traces your thighs, then your hips, waist, outline of your breasts, collar bone to your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your eyes are glued to him, his arm slipping from your hand back up to the sleeves of your T-shirt, tugging at them, signaling for you to lift your arms.

He pulls your shirt off slowly, tantalizingly, taunting you as it is lifted over your head and thrown to the floor. He sucks in a breath, the sight of you leaving him silent. No words were spoken, but his lips were on your once more, forcefully taking you in like it’s his last time. ‘Impossible.’

Unbuttoning your jeans, he helps you off the desk to shimmy out of them, pulling you close to him once they’re thrown somewhere, too. He kisses in between your thighs, one for each, going to trace up your stomach. You stop him. 

Looking at him with uncertainty, you’re hit with embarrassment and uncertainty.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

“It’s not you... I-It’s me.”

Deeply, he searches your eyes, already knowing the answer but searching for the confirmation. Sighing, he places a knuckle under your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet his. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you’re gorgeous, Baby Girl.”

You still look at him hesitantly, which causes him to sigh again.

“Let me show you what I see,” he smirks, a softness in his eyes that tells you there’s nothing to be scared of. Just as he had throughout your highschool years: the drama, bullying, home life, and all.

You nod, hands grasping both sides of his face and pulling him in, kissing him sweetly. He whimpers a little bit, hoping you wouldn’t catch it, but you did. It ignites a fire deep within your gut.

He teases you, a finger sliding your underwear over to the side, fingers playing with your clit. You suck in a deep breath, back arching as you support your weight behind you, on your hands. His hands lays on your sternum, pushing you down further until your resting on your elbows.

Refusing to be pulled down, you sit back up, allowing him to play with you while you attempt to lift his shirt above his head, shakily. He watches you with amused eyes, liking the struggle your body portrays under the heat of his pleasure. He allows you to fumble around a bit more before he helps you out, lifting the bottom of his shirt and taking it off over his head. Hands going back to what they were doing prior.

Your eyes are glued to him, drinking him in as the fire burns brighter and hotter within your core. Greedily, you go for his belt, able to take it off with want and newfound strength as you grow more impatient.

You can hear him chuckle under his breath, pressing you back down by the sternum again, helping finish your goal. He removes the belt with one hand, pulling you off the desk and forcing you to face it. Taking the belt, he ties it around your wrists, tucking it into a drawer like a leash, too thick and sturdy to be able to pull it back out. 

Whining, you look at him over your shoulder, begging him with your eyes.

“You’ve been a bad girl. Good girls don't get tied if they do as they’re told. You keep moving without permission, so I had to limit you. Now. If you use your words, you’ll get what you want.”

You moan in frustration, head spinning back to lay against the desk, arching your back and attempting to wiggle your ass against his crotch. But, to your disapproval, he takes a step back, watching you squirm.

You groan again, giving in, “Please, just fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Pulling your panties down to your ankles, Kreese teases and taunts you with a finger, sliding it through your folds and occasionally at your entrance, but as quickly as the finger is there, it’s off and somewhere else less needy. 

“Goddammit! Fuck me, please!!” you grit out, growing antzy and frustrated with your head laid against the hardwood. If you weren’t tied down to the fucking desk, you’d take matters into your own hands by now.

He yanks your hair by the back of your head, pulling you up, the back of your head against his shoulder. His mouth nips your earlobe, whispering, “I’d watch your tone if you want me to give you what you want.”

“Yes, Master,” you grit out, smiling as you feel his whole body grow still.

Letting go of your hair instantly, his pushes your head down into the desk, taking his member in one hand as the other makes sure you are fully prepared. Without warning, he plunges in about halfway, giving you time to adjust, although surprised by the intrusion. 

You groan loudly, your voice echoing off the desk with force. You can feel him shake with pleasure within you, a loud, breathy moan releasing from his lips. Nodding your head weakly, he starts to set a pace within you, making sure he’s arched enough to tease your G-spot. 

You moan again, hands clutching the vice he’s got you trapped in. “Say it again,” he yells, starting to thrust deeper, the pleasure building.

He’s starting to go off the edge quickly, but you can’t let him. Not yet. “Untie me first,” you order plainly, refusing to give him what he wants just yet. “It’s my turn.”

He shuckles with a little annoyance, but otherwise pulls out, slightly shoving you out of the way so he can quickly untie the belt. Because of the force he’d given you at a simple command, you decide to give him just as much of a hard time. 

Once untied, you turn to face him, a sultry smile on your face, a devilish look in your eye. Using the same force he had applied, you shove him into his desk chair, forcing him to sit when the chair hits the back of his knees. Slowly, you go to straddle his hips, your raises above him, teasing him. 

“Masters aren’t supposed to be so mean if they are promised to get what they want, are they?”

“N-No,” he stutters, the change in demeanor so delicious to soak in. You have him wrapped around your little finger.

“’No’, what?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Good enough,” you giggle, grinding down into him, bottoming out inside of you.

He whimpers out again, the sound music to your ears. Slowly you set a pace, his hands coming down to grasp your hips and help you grind in perfect tandem. Together, you bounce, while he charges up to meet you, slowly grinding you forward and backwards a bit, too. The motion makes you gasp, the perfect mixture of friction and being full of him. You moan out, your hands laying on top of his tightly as you feel the edge creeping slowly.

“Call me again,” he groans out, head leaning back onto the headrest of the chair. 

“Look me in the eyes.”

Doing as you asked, he looks at you fully, a bit of heat rising to the surface and making him a tint of red from the chest up. A sheen of sweat covers the both of you, making you both shine in the dim lighting of the room. “Master.”

His head throws back into the shair again, his thrusts intensifying in speed and force. You whine out, grabbing his biceps now, nails digging. “Master, make me finish. Please.”

His hands dig into your hips, forcing your body down as he charges faster, the chair squeaking. Your moans get louder and louder, more frequent with the force applies. “I-I’m gonna cum,” you warn, too close to wait for permission.

Just as you feel the tight knot snap, you’re filled with his warm seed, one hand moving from your hip to yank your hair again, his lips capturing the colum of your neck as he bites down, a deep growl releasing as he fills your with his potential kids.

You ride your high until there’s nothing left, jumping at the overstimulation or any contact at all. Finally releasing his hold, his hands lay on your thighs as yours rest on his shoulders, catching your breath. 

You giggle, opening your eyes after a moment to look at him. You kiss his lips sweetly, a grin on his face as well as he admires you. “I love you, Kreese. Always have.”

He chuckles as he tucks your head in the crook of his neck, hands rubbing your back, fingers playing with the clasp of your bra. “I love you, too, Y/L/N.”

“Y/N.”

“John.”

“John,” you mimic.

“Y/N,” he copies, chuckling as he plays with your hair.

“’February 14th: Valentines Day’,” Kreese recounts the page he had engraved in his head. That was one of your dirtiest of fantasies.

You gasp, swatting his shoulder as your cheeks burn with the reminder, “You Devil!”

May 28th: When Two Hearts Intertwined.

[worldsaparted]

hi!! your writing is so so good i read all your fics ^_^ !! could you write something for maybe a jealous make out session with johnny lawrence omg 🙈🙈 like reader was just talking with daniel normally and johnny sees and gets all jealous and possessive AHHSJFJDJ im going crazy for this man

1. i love this request, and 2. thank u so much for ur support, i appreciate it :) <3

Lab Partner - Johnny Lawrence

As Y/n walked out of the indoor hallways, she glanced to Daniel Larusso as he held the door open for her - shooting a friendly smile. “What do you say about tomorrow, study hall?” He asked, his voice soft - and a bit scratchy. He awaited an answer from the girl who walked beside him as they exited school.

“That sounds good.” She responded, nodding and sending a small wave to him as he handed her the paper work from today’s class.

“Bye, Y/n.” His voice was soft and she returned a small bye, under her breath before her view shifted from Daniel - to Johnny, a small glare across his face as he watched Daniel Larusso make his way off campus.

He was leaning against his own car, and seeing as it was extremely cold as Christmas neared, his car roof was on.

Johnny Lawrence kept his view on Daniel Larusso as his girlfriend walked over, making her way to him and his car.

She met him, her hand tapping his chest to gain his attention and he glanced down at her after she placed a casual kiss against his jawline as a way of greeting him. “Hey - ” He gestured to the tan boy. “What the hell was that?” He watched as Y/n sighed, getting into his car and he did the same now, his gaze set on her.

“What?” She asked, her voice soft as the many cars of students leaving the school passed by, slowly but surely emptying out the parking lot.

Getting into the car, Johnny Lawrence sighed as he started it up - watching his girlfriend set her backpack in the back as he began driving out as well. He was clearly annoyed, and she could tell - the way he drove, the way he didn’t shut up about the subject. “I told you, he’s my lab partner.” Y/n justified, watching Johnny scoff.

“I’ve got a lab partner too, you don’t see me talking to her like that.” He sassed, parking his car in front of the small diner he sometimes took her too after school that was just around the corner.

“Well, he’s a good lab partner, Johnny. Knows how to do a lot.” Of course she was playfully egging him on, but with his temper - Johnny rolled his eyes - turning the ignition of his car off, holding his keys in his hand as he glanced over to Y/n - a small smile across her face.

“You’ve got to be joking.” He spoke, his voice low and Y/n shrugged, watching as he squinted his eyes - “Y/n.” He started, “I’ll take you home right now.” He threatened, and he carefully watched her before her soft smile widened.

She attempted to place an innocent, gentle kiss upon his lips to assure him she was kidding, though at the feeling of her lips meeting his , Johnny immediately closed the space between them.

He undid her seatbelt for her, his lips against hers slowly turning the kiss from slow and careful to rough and needy kisses.

His right hand was gripping her neck, and his left on her cheek as he held her firmly, placing continuous kisses against her lips - clearly in need of this.

His kisses were usually passionate, but when they were this aggressive it told all. Johnny was angry, but at the same time - he loved reminding her.

“What’d I tell you about Larusso?” He spoke against her lips, and as she attempted to pull away and respond, Johnny shook his head. “Shut up.” He mumbled, immediately placing his lips against hers again. This time, their parted lips met in a desperate, sloppy manner. Johnny gave himself an entrance to her mouth as he slipped his tongue in, perfectly exploring his girlfriend’s mouth.

Slowly, his hand reached into the inside of Y/n’a shirt, caressing her back and earning soft sighs in content as she nodded into the kiss. Now, Johnny was feeling a lot better. He smiled into the kiss, his eyes fluttering open as he spoke up, pulling away just an inch, leaning over her now. “Does he know how to do that?” He asked, his tone confident and almost playful - but Y/n knew he meant that question with everything in him.

This time, he waited for an answer, his eyebrow quirking a bit as he panted a little, hovering her. “Huh?” He searched her eyes, and Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile.

She took her hand to run it through his blonde, soft hair, and without any words - she answered by shaking her head. At this, Johnny Lawrence bit his lip, nodding and quickly removing his Cobra Jacket, throwing it to the back seat. He quickly leaned in once again, now moving forward and leaning her seat back to gain more comfort. His lips clashed against hers as if he was hungry, and he bit her bottom lip in the midst of their kiss, groaning a little in pleasure at the feeling of her hands roaming his chest, and ending up around his neck.

“I’ll do all your lab work.” He murmured against her lips again, his hands traveling up to her cup her face. He grabbed her, and held her in place as he continued to kiss her roughly, earning smiles against the kiss from Y/n. “You’ll never have to talk to him again, I promise you.” Those were the last words before Johnny continued to focus on kissing her, his thumbs rubbing against her jawline.

The sloppy kisses continued, Y/n allowed herself to pull him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck and she nodded against the kiss, her top lip in between both of his as he lightly sucked on it. His lips slowly left her swollen ones to run against her jawline, and his hands moved to rest inside her shirt, around her waist.

He lightly sucked at her skin as he moved down to her neck, and then to her chest. He earned small murmurs of pleasure from Y/n, and at that - he was completely fine. Could Daniel Larusso make her feel like this? Johnny Lawrence bit his lip before he took one hand out of her shirt, nodding and running it through her hair. “Yeah, that’s it.” He whispered, his lips against her ear before he placed soft, wet kisses against it, traveling down and back to her neck, then her lips.

Johnny Lawrence was in his own seventh heaven. Growing more and more pleased with each kiss. Thankfully, these windows were tinted. He took it to himself to remove Y/n’s jacket and he let out a low groan at the feeling of Y/n biting his lip, slowly tugging on it before pulling away and allowing him to remove her long sleeve as well. Johnny’s kisses were now on the skin above her bra - he knew she was allowing him to get this far in public because he had recently tinted his car windows and because of their circumstances today.

To make him feel better, to let him know that she truly was only his.

So of course, at the sight of her like this - he melted. Not just because she was beautiful but because he loved the ways she assured him that she was his. She took his chin, pulling him up to kiss his lips once again.

Johnny wasn’t sure he ever wanted to leave this car, his pants grew tighter and he found himself fiddling with her bra - which was sadly where she stopped him. He leaned up, his hand rubbing her thigh as his eyes searched hers and she softly kissed him once more, her hands in his hair that had grown from combed to messy, and disheveled. “Let’s go home.” She spoke, and immediately Johnny nodded, placing a few more hunger induced kisses against her lips before sitting back in his seat, watching her throw her shirt back on.

If only he was her lab partner.

[magedoesstuff]

I am a simple girl. I see a Johnny and Tory parallel edit I click on the like button, simple as that.

Seriously though, the parallels between those two make me feral. Especially when Johnny tells Daniel that Tory was working through her mother's death by fighting, and he knew because he was the same way when his mother died. I—speechless, I love them so much!!

[karatekels]

KarateKels Story Masterlist

Hi everyone! I’ve decided to (finally) get my act together and make a masterlist post for all the requests/stories I’ve done so far. I’m going first by character, then adding Dark Desires October and TIGmas posts for if you’re looking for a ~vibe~. Links that have a * indicate the presence of smut, for if you just want to get to the good stuff! 😉

(I'll be going through these posts and updating them slowly when I can't bring myself to write, so if you see anything that needs fixing or you want to suggest ways to make this... less of a clusterfuck, please feel free to let me know!)

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Currently Writing:

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1. Cold Outside (a Jack Blaylock x Reader fic for TIGmas #12 - sorry for taking FOREVER, @babylonianqueenie; I'm really struggling to make this good!)

2. Solar Flare (a Jan Valek x OC fic)

Note: I am taking requests, but seeing that some of them are around a year old at this point, note that it may be awhile! I'm not planning on starting any of my own projects or theme-months until I clear out most of what I have, and thank you all for your patience!

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Terry Silver:

Silver Seduction: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3* | Part 4* | Part 5* | Part 6*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is the older sister of Jessica Andrews and has taken it upon herself to make sure young Daniel LaRusso stays safe after Jessica returns to Ohio. This includes accompanying him to seek out the training offered by Sensei Terry Silver and learning a few moves yourself from the handsome older man. When his true intentions are discovered, you completely cut him off, but he isn’t willing to let you go so easily. (Reader is in her 20s)

Chef’s Kiss: Part 1 | Part 2*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is dragged to a charity event by her parents where she meets Terry Silver. They discover that they have a mutual acquaintance, Daniel LaRusso, and Reader joins Danny at the dojo as she grows closer to Terry. Wanting to surprise him one day, she catches Terry relishing Daniel’s torture – now Terry has to make her see reason. (Reader is in her 20s)

Deluge: Part 1

(KK3 Terry x Reader) You get stranded in the rain trying to make your way to Terry’s place for Valentine’s Day, but Terry comes to your rescue, professing his love for you and taking you to his home where you belong.

An Honest Man: Part 1 | Part 2* | To be continued…

(KK3 Terry x Reader) You meet Terry at a party and aren’t impressed by his smarmy exterior, making him determined to win you over. Colluding with your easily wooed coworker, he talks you into a date and slowly seduces his way past your timid, untrusting nature.

Payment Plan: Part 1*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader sees Terry training in the Cobra Kai dojo while on her way to work and develops a crush on him. They finally meet face-to-face and Terry invites her inside for a free lesson.

Bath Toy: Part 1*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Terry takes a business call while playing with you in the bath but is interrupted by you not being able to keep quiet. To make up for the inconvenience, you let him use you underwater while he goes about his business.

Cat & Mouse: Part 1*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader is a rising star at Dynatox and has caught the eye of the boss himself. Despite being the Terry Silver, however, you adamantly reject his advances, forcing him to take more drastic measures to help you see reason. The two of you engage in a game of cat and mouse that culminates the night of a gala celebrating Dynatox’s successes.

Discipline Training: Part 1* | Part 2* | To be continued…

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Terry comes home early from a work trip and catches you touching yourself without his permission. He decides to punish train you in the third 'D': Discipline.

All's Fair: Part 1 | Part 2* | Part 3*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Reader has been dating Terry for awhile, and he's been patient. When she surprises him with a date at their local funfair, he thinks she'll be willing to finally make their relationship physical. At the top of the ferris wheel, he makes his move. Dubcon.

Unjust Reward:Part 1 | Part 2*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) Daniel warns Reader that Terry is nothing but trouble, and she tries to avoid him, but when she's being chased by a group of men she turns to Terry's dojo for help. He swoops in to save the day, but it turns out he was just saving her for himself. Non-con.

Clear as Mud: Part 1*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) You’ve tried to get Terry to open up about his time in Vietnam on more than one occasion, and while he’s been doing his best to help you understand, he ultimately decides that the best way to help you is to put you through something similar, hunting you in the middle of a forest at sunset.

What You Do To Me: Part 1*

(KK3 Terry x Reader) You and Terry have been together for quite awhile now and he is crazy about you. Before he can tell you that he loves you, he decides to test your loyalty by seeing how you respond to another man trying to seduce you at a gala. Once you pass his test with flying colours, he sneaks away with you to confess his love, and shows you just what it’s like to have his full devotion…

Turtle Doves: Part 1 | Part 2

(KK3 Cobra Husbands - Terry/Reader/John) It’s your first Christmas spent with both Terry and John, and everyone is nervous about what to give the others. While you’re confident in Terry’s (often overwhelming) love for both you and John, as well as your own feelings for both men, you’re still unsure of John’s feelings for you with the spirit of Betsy still a looming presence in everyone’s mind.

Songbird: Part 1*

(Terry through the ages) A series of snippets of Terry and his wife in the 90s, 00s and the present. Reader is a singer at the bar that Terry frequents as he hits rock bottom, and the two of you fall in love. Years later, the return of John Kreese into your husband’s live threatens to tear your marriage apart.

Lesson Learned: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3*

(CK Terry x Reader) Reader is a student in Cobra Kai’s adult class and you and Sensei Silver are both clearly attracted to one another. After a month of teasing, Terry decides you’ve both waited long enough.

Strike First: Part 1 | Part 2*

(CK Terry x Reader) Reader and Sensei Silver have been eyeing each other during the dojo’s adult class for awhile now. While you never think it would escalate past flirting, Terry has had other plans, luring you to the dojo when no one is around so you two can get to know each other.

Prized Possession: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) You accompany Terry to a charity event for the first time as a couple and he doesn’t appreciate the attention you receive from the other men in attendance. Upon returning home, he needs to make sure that you both know who you belong to.

As I Am: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) You witness Terry and Daniel’s fight in Stingray’s apartment and desperately want him to lose control with you. Upon making you confess your desires, he gives you exactly what you need. Size kink.

A Better Offer: Part 1 | Part 2*

(CK Terry x Reader) You are Daniel’s assistant at the dealership and a close family friend. When Terry drops by to gather information for his schemes, he decides to scoop you up and make Danny-Boy regret his mistreatment of you, giving you a dream opportunity: organizing the charity auction for Eva Garcia. The two of you develop feelings for one another as you work closely together, and as the events of the auction unfold, the tension between you reaches its boiling point.

Legacy: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) Terry has fallen for the most promising student in his adult class, though she remains oblivious. Though he desperately wants to have her for himself, he fears rejection and settles for privately training her just to be close to her and build a legacy. Eventually, he runs out of things to teach her.

Fresh Start: Days 4 & 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Days 8 & 9* | Days 10 & 11 | Day 12-A | Day 12-B | Day 13-A* | Day 13-B* | Day 13-C | Day 14-A* | Day 14-B | Day 14-C

(CK Terry x Reader) Reader is visiting LA for a few weeks and accidentally wanders onto the estate of Terry Silver, who immediately falls hard for the young woman. With only a few days to convince her to stay with him, he knows he has to pull out all the stops.

Scream for Me: Part 1 | Part 2*

(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the "Fresh Start" universe! Reader makes the mistake of telling Terry that she can't believe he was ever scary, and certainly isn't that way now. Terry decides to teach her a lesson, hunting her in their own home until she admits that he is still very much something to be feared.

Wrapped in Red: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the “Fresh Start” universe! You and Terry are invited to a Christmas Eve charity gala by your rival for Terry’s affections, and you’re sick of having to endure her flirting with your man. Surprisingly, Victor has an idea that will make it certain who Terry Silver belongs to.

Eye of the Storm: Part 1* | To be continued…

(CK Terry x Reader) Trapped at the airport on Christmas Eve, Terry grows tired of seeing everyone around him with their families and loved ones, and impulsively decides to start a family of his own. Today. He sets his sights on you to get the job done, with you being none the wiser.

Guided Meditation: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) Terry is fed up with your attitude lately, and decides to help you learn how to channel your pent up frustrations through more enjoyable pursuits... for him, anyway.

Party Favours: Part 1*

(CK Terry x Reader) You really don't want your birthday to be a big deal, but Terry is determined to strike the perfect balance, finding just the right way to spoil you...

Reunion: Part 1 | To be continued...

(CK Terry x Reader) Part of the "Fresh Start" universe! You return to Terry weeks after your initial departure to begin your life together.

The Steadfast Tin Soldier: Part 1*

(Twig Terry x Reader) Terry returns from Vietnam on Christmas Eve, and you are the first and only person he wants to see. After years without so much as a letter, you two try to get to know each other once again.

Cash Ewing (Black Friday/The Kidnapping):

Disorderly Conduct: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4* | Part 5 | Part 6

A dark, tragic fic. Reader is a cop who has been working at the same precinct as Cash for awhile, and gets the vibe that something is... off. Trusting her instinct, she follows him to an abandoned building one day and catches him in the act. Unfortunately, he also catches her, and keeps her as a hostage while he tries to figure out his next move. (Takes place before events of the movie)

Person of Interest: Part 1*

You and a friend attend your precinct's Christmas party; the first time you'll be seeing your coworkers since you went undercover almost a year ago. Rather than the happy reunion with your partner and friend Cash, he seems anything but happy to see you. Locked in the basement together, you call Cash out on his BS and finally confront him about his feelings and your own.

Jan Valek (Vampires):

Heirloom: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6*

An enemies to lovers fic with Jan Valek. Reader is Jack Crow's daughter and a vamp-hunter-in-training. When Valek attacks the old Catholic school where the Black Cross of Berziers is kept and discovers his nemesis’s daughter, he kidnaps her in hopes of using her to lure him out but finds himself falling for her instead.

Saturnalia: Part 1*

Valek catches your scent on the wind and plans to feed on you, but after a single conversation with you can’t bring himself to commit such an act. Instead, he plans to find you at your friend's Winter Solstice Masquerade to be close to you, even just for the night.

Solar Flare: Part 1 | In Progress...

As vampires become a growing problem and the number of Slayers dwindles, the Catholic Church decides to perform another ‘miracle’, attempting to create a weapon that will be able to find the despicable creatures in any and all shadows that they may hide. Similarly to the botched exorcism of Jan Valek, the experimental ceremony that Rose Hanlon undergoes doesn’t go exactly as intended, and she escapes the city with a set of abilities she doesn’t even understand.

Gus Travis (Black Point):

In Deep Water: Part 1 | Part 2* | Part 3*

A dark non-con with Gus Travis. Reader is an undercover cop who has gotten in with Gus's gang to get the dirt on him and Malcolm’s crime ring. Gus gets wind of your deception and decides to punish you - for lying, for making him fall for you, for everything.

Terry McCain (Excessive Force):

Yule-Tied: Part 1* | To be continued…

You manage to get Terry to swear off work for a whole week to come with you to visit your family in New York City for the holidays. He has (unsurprisingly) charmed his way into everyone’s good books, so you decide to reward him with an early Christmas present when you get back to your hotel room the night before Christmas Eve.

Jack Blaylock (Ulterior Motives):

Coming soon…

The TIGverse (stories with more than one TIG character):

The NSFW Alphabet: Part 1* | Part 2*

A character study for both KK3 Terry and CK Terry. (I want to do more requests like these, so feel free to send in requests for my thoughts/opinions rather than full on stories if you want!)

A Tale of Two Terrys: Part 1* | To be continued…

(KK3 Terry x Reader x CK Terry) You and your husband (CK Terry) are somehow joined in bed by his younger self, who had been wondering how his future would turn out. Initially protective, your husband talks you into letting his younger self have his way with you before joining in himself.

Mediation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9* | To be continued…

(Terry McCain x Reader x Cash Ewing) You are assigned as Terry McCain’s new partner after his previous partner – Cash Ewing – goes to prison for the crimes he has committed. Cash returns to Chicago years later, after his release and rehabilitation, and while he can’t be a cop anymore, he wants to make amends to those he has disappointed with his actions, most of all his former close friend Terry. Terry isn’t receptive to Cash’s attempts at reconciliation, and warns you to stay away from him, having grown very protective of his “work wife.” But you find something of a kindred spirit in Cash and want to help him get a second chance at life, deciding to do what you can to support the man and bring the two friends back together.

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Themes/Challenges

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Dark Desires October 2023:

Unjust Reward Disorderly Conduct Heirloom Scream for Me All's Fair In Deep Water

TIGmas 2023:

Person of Interest Saturnalia Clear as Mud Eye of the Storm The Steadfast Tin Soldier Wrapped in Red Yule-Tied What You Do To Me Mediation Guided Meditation Turtle Doves (Cobra Husbands) It’s Cold Outside (Jack Blaylock) Coming Soon...

Fresh Start Universe:

Fresh Start Scream for Me Wrapped in Red Reunion In progress More coming for Fresh Start February!

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AMAs (ask me anything):

Just in case you are, for some reason, interested in asking me about things or reading about what other people have asked me! (These are fun and I'm happy to answer pretty much any question you feel like asking!)

AMA1 | AMA2 |

[terrence-silver]

Imagine beloved had left 80s Terry around the same time as John and he couldn’t find her despite all of his resources. Then at his little garden party where he’s introduced in CK, he/she turns up with Kreese. How would he react?….

The One Who Got Away

Terry Silver x Reader (With spectacular amounts of meddling from John Kreese)

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John believed himself a good friend, even when nobody understood his methods.

His technique.

But, sometimes genuinely favorable intentions tended to be misunderstood in life precisely because truth had the habit of being a hard pill to swallow for some, the same way Terry misunderstood him when he hung up the phone on him after decades of radio silence even though John didn’t take it to heart; not in the way someone else might’ve taken it to heart, anyway. He understood bitterness. Festering, unresolved issues. Baggage. Old resentments. Hell, he lived with a great many old things like the lack of closure as the only companionship he could openly boast for quite a while — in fact, old memories proved to be better company than most people would've. After all, Terry reached out countless times over the years, offering him opportunities, employment, money, second, third and fourth chances, never once getting the fact that to John, living off of quite so much charity was like castration, even if a good friend was the one holding the amputation blade. He might as well not be a man if someone else puts his bread and butter on the table instead of himself. Of course they both knew where the other was these past thirty something years, the short distance between them like an aching gap that couldn’t close or stop bleeding. John was legally homeless because, to him, there was a certain honor in refusing handouts and across town, Terry was cooped up in possibly his millionth new mansion since the 80’s, switching his usual old haunt up in The Hills for a beachfront porch out in Malibu were he took to hosting garden parties and charity events nowadays; a pastime for the semi-retired.

It was all over the newspapers and luckily, John enjoyed swapping through articles — has done so ever since he was a young man. Terry Silver had no marriage, no children, no official affiliation with any martial arts by the looks of it, some woman beside him.

John knows her type.

What GI's back in the days used to call a Boom Boom Girl.

A Boom Boom Girl putting on airs that she wasn't a Boom Boom Girl.

John places his finger over her face on the glossy paper of the periodical, covering her features as he eyes the phone in his hand, wondering if Terry never quite got down to having either progeny or matrimony because it wasn’t with you; somehow, things fell apart after the ‘85 tournament and old friendships and creeds broke into a thousand pieces, you becoming the one who got away amidst the wreckage and all the fallout. John felt responsible for you. Responsible, perhaps, in a way an older brother would be. A father, even though you were close in age, only several years of difference between you. Thinking that someone Terry cared about was in equal measure someone he should keep an eye out for. Watch, from afar. A solidarity of a Cobra for another Cobra and the Cobra’s mate. You never married either. Never had kids. John kept a careful tab on everything. Seems like the three of you were much the same, he thinks, as he hits up your number, one hand entering the digits who went to some pretty big lengths to track down, his other hand and his finger still pressed against the paper of the periodical; something or other about a Mindfulness App and its upcoming promotion. John saw nothing wrong in sabotaging an existing relationship to make another one happen. Picking apart people to bring together someone with somebody else. He’s done worse in life. Done better too. Never regretted any of it. This was probably the first time he was willingly playing a game of Good Cupid, Bad Cupid.

To quote Terry himself, extreme situations required extreme measures.

A nearby thin, black ballpoint marker stands on the table of his dojo office and listening to the clicking of the phone line pressed against his ear, John unplugs the top, drawing an X over the face of the person Hello! Magazine’s interviewer described as one Cheyenne Hamidi, standing next to Terry during what seemed like an official photoshoot of sorts. Promotional glossy bullshit with a plastic sprinkling of sparkles doused all over it.

Battle plans.

So many battle plans for the Thirty Year War.

Terry shouldn’t have terminated their phone call like that. Shouldn’t have left him out in the cold when all he wanted to do was talk. Cut him off, will he? The man who saved his life as many times as he did? His oldest ever friend? Whenever John Kreese was faced with an unmovable wall that barricaded him out, he returned to the place with a tank. You happened to be a crucial part of his heavy artillery.

A familiar voice answers on the other side; you sound aged. But still you.

-"Hello? Who’s this?"-

You inquire carefully, the questioning in your voice peppered with confusion once you get no immediate answer back. John sets down the marker on the desk. After a brief moment of silence, he has to smile. My, was it good to hear you loud and clear after all these years. He wondered if you’d recognize him if he spoke. Regardless, taking no chances, he chooses to introduce himself, hoping you wouldn’t hang up on him like Terry did. He shuts the periodical he’s drawn on, tossing it aside.

-"Toots? It’s John Kreese."-

—

-"Look at you. You’re a smokeshow!"-

-"Oh, please, John, I’ve aged. I’m all wrinkles."-

Those are the first words you exchange once he arranges a meeting, wondering to a degree, how was it that for all his connections, money, resources and usual habit of getting what he wants when he wants it, Terry never sought you out when John managed, not possessing a quarter of his means, concluding that Terry simply choose to capitulate, which was entirely out of character for him, to be as defeatist as to give up on something he felt belonged to him. Things changed. Things needed to be back to order, by the looks of it. John squeezes your hand in a handshake, for old times sake. -"I resent that."- He says, smiling into his own chin, looking you up and down. The years did it's toll, but you were still a grand lady. Shocking how nobody came to scoop you up over the years. Less shocking once he'd consider the fact that he'd make them disappear even if they tried ---- for Terry's own sake. Even if Terry never asked him to do that, John knew --- oh, he knew he needed someone to do that regardless; someone needed to pick up the good fight for him and in his stead occasionally now that he was seemingly playing the role of a Pacifist in newspapers people kept in their salons and never actually read. So, naturally, John plays clueless and asks the very question he already the knew the answer to. -"Tell me, how come you never got married? How’s that even possible?"- He goes by way of flattery, watching something gloomy wash over your face as you sit down on a nearby park bench, sighing deeply. That serious, huh?

-"Oh, John. You know why."-

He knew why. He knew everything.

Collecting intel was one of his talents.

But, still. A looker like you? Men in this city either became dumber over the years or they've lost their taste entirely. Probably both.

-"He’s never married either."-

And he just about should've been by now, he yearns to add.

Keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being and instead, John immediately chooses to cut to the chase; cut the bullshit, get to the point, meeting your glance knowingly and you nod, visibly gulping hard. It was clear it was difficult for you to talk about this --- that this was a taxing topic, even after all these decades, even though you knew exactly who he was talking about even without a name ever being mentioned. Terry was always on your mind, wasn't he? At least, frequently enough that he didn't even have to be brought up directly for you to catch the context immediately. -"Look, I was the one who ran when things got out of hand. You know that. He’s got every right be hurt."- You manage, appearing almost apologetic about it. -"And by the looks of it, he’s been doing very well for himself now. Then again, has there ever been a time when he wasn’t?"- You looking down towards your own lap and the hands on them, chuckling to yourself with a note of bitterness, and yeah, there have been times when Terry Silver hasn't been doing good, and if John could attest to that with certainty it is because he's seen him at his lowest and ironically, for all the razzle, dazzle, glitz and glamour, he'd be damned if anyone could convince him he was doing good right now, no matter what the shills in the media were claiming; Newspapers you no doubt saw too. John wondered if you were jealous? Heartbroken? You had to be. If his Betsy went and married some random schmuck who wasn't him he'd about ram his teeth down his throat over it, and that would only be the introduction. -"What I mean to say, John, I am happy, if he’s happy. We’re from two different worlds, we always have been, but Terry’s contentment is all I want."- 

No lies detected in your voice.

Only honesty. Clear as a stream. Just as vulnerable. Fragile.

See, this is exactly why he wanted you for Terry.

Kind.

Selfless.

Almost noble.

The willingness to stay in the shadows and self-sacrifice your happiness.

Not a single advantageous, opportunistic bone in your body in regards to Terry.

True love.

That was it. What it looked like.

In strange ways beyond explanation, your manner reminded John of Betsy all his life --- Betsy if she was allowed to age and grow old, no more than it did there and then, something similarly timeless and eerily haunting about you two; something sweet and genuine once you said that you wanted nothing but Terry's contentment and he figured, Terry, Twig --- he needed all the help he could get even when he didn't realize it. Even when he wouldn't admit to it. Ever since the war, he needed a push in the right direction. Someone to guide him in a seamless sense. Save him. John would guide him. Save him, yes. For the umpteenth time. John would guide him right where he witnessed Terry happiest back in the day, right to you. The natural payment for that would be Cobra Kai reestablished and reinstated to it's former glory where it belonged. John watches Terry's back, Terry watches his. Who said there wasn't a thread of selfishness to the transaction? In 'Nam, when rations were low, John tended to let Twig drink out of his canteen, eat from his share of meals purely so he'd have a fighting chance at growing a pair of muscles and surviving the long marches out in the jungle even if it meant there would be less food left for John. Was it quite so different today, over forty years later? John gets Cobra Kai and Terry gets the love of his life because John would ensure the meeting possible. Precisely because he was ready to selfishly meddle. Divide and conquer.

So, really, in the end, who gets more out of the deal?

-"Look, toots, I’ll be going to see him to talk business."-

John offers.

-"If you want to come with me, you should."-

-"No, John, c’mon. I can't."-

You immediately snort and fidget, overtaken by a nervous edge of unwillingness.

Profusely embarrassed, gripping the edge of the bench with both hands.

Looking like you wanted to stand up and make an excuse to leave.

-"I can’t randomly show up in his life like that."-

Can't or were too afraid to?

Because John wasn't afraid; he'd scale the walls of his mansion if he had to.

Fight whatever security detour there was in place.

With you on his back.

-"Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t."-

John inquires, taking no prisoners, being as serious as he could be as he scrutinizes your anxiety, because no, genuinely, your place was by Terry's side ever since the good, old days. Everything between there and now was a load of bullshit and if John loathed anything it was loads of bullshit. You shake your head, prodding on, still not convinced. Did you think someone was going to come along and award you a Medal of Honor if you were continued to deprive yourself of joy? -"No fair! Tell me what’s this business you two are suddenly talking about? I thought you weren’t close like that anymore."- You furrow your brows with incredulity and John simply shrugs, choosing to be blunt. After all, he didn't track you down and bring you out here to pull your nose or waste too much of his own time doing so when there was work to be done. He came here to tie up loose ends. -"It’s Cobra Kai."- He confesses, holding your gaze firmly. Your mouth remains open, like you intended to say something, but the words remained stuck halfway in your throat. Sounded like you haven't heard that name uttered in thirty years and like you weren't certain if you should even say it anymore, after everything that's transpired. -"Cobra Kai?"- You stutter, practically shooting up from where you were seated, your body language rigid. Stiff as a board. -"So, this is what it’s all about? I should've known you had an agenda the minute you contacted me! You want me to butter Terry up for you, John? Isn't that right? Get whatever financing and bankrolling you need to get your revenue expanding! None of this is honest, good or dignified!"- You point a finger at him, ranting, visibly impassioned and John has to smile into his chin. Feisty, huh? Feisty and ever so selfless once again, with all the consideration in the world for Terry's honor and well-being, like the saint you were. If anything, another proof you belonged together; that is, if Terry as he was now was man enough to even deserve you back.

And after all, so what if it wasn't honest, good or dignified?

When was war ever honest, good or dignified?

What Cobra Kai was about to do is enter an all out war.

Terry could be out here blowing his cash on buying some broad with an over inflated ego and a smug face the credentials for an unearned start-up and splitting grey hairs on a silky mansion cushion like the sad, neutered old pensioner he's made himself out to be, or he could be bringing their life's work to the fullest potential and fruition, get married to you, have an actual legacy to boast and be the man and the warrior he was always supposed to be; John didn't save him as many times as he did in Vietnam to have him withering away doing nothing with himself, and if that was the wrong attitude to have, then fuck it. John stands up too, placing himself in front of you. This wasn't just about the money and you knew it. This was greater than money. Cobra Kai, him, you and Terry were always greater than money. Terry and you were a major chunk of John Kreese's entire life. -"No. I want old times back. I want things made right. Set straight. And I want you to be on good terms again."- John explains himself, nearly saying 'I want the clock to go back', deciding not to, choosing not to risk sounding too damn sentimental for his own good, regardless how true it was. -"Why?"- You shrug your shoulders, appearing angry, unsatisfied with what you've just heard. Would you be more satisfied if he told you he was concerned with who his friend wasted his time on? That he wanted Terry with someone who was good for him? Who knew him inside out? Someone who understood him? Loved him?

Because John could do that. So, he does.

-"Because he cares about you, doll."-

John allows his head to cock to the side, endeared by the way your eyes welled up with suppressed, prideful tears once you were rendered temporarily speechless by that bit of unfiltered truth. You cared about his Twig too, didn't you? You cared about him more than you've ever cared about anyone else. Always have. Otherwise, you would've settled down. You would've done so ages ago. You could still do so now, in spite of your wrinkles and the occasional silver hair; a beauty even now. The same way John would've settled down if it wasn't for Betsy's memory. Just the way Terry would've too, if it wasn't for the memory of you. But, here you were, still choosing to be your stubborn, combative self. Well, Terry liked them with some spunk and fire, after all. So did John.

-"Oh, please, how can you claim to even know that!? Leave him be! He's in an relationship! He's moved on! It was all over the ---"-

You start arguing, getting emotional and heated, deflecting, clearly out of fear at the prospect of a reunion taking place, pleading Terry's case for him and if it wasn't for the fact the vista he choose the meeting to take place in wasn't remote, overlooking the gridded skyline of LA, giving you two some much needed privacy from prying eyes he was certain people would be turning around to stare you down, looking for the cause of all the noise and commotion, but regardless of the semantics; How could John claim Terry still cared about you? When two people were as intrinsically tied with each other for as long as he and Terry were, and they've been through all the crap he and Terry have been through, when a man is sure, he's sure. Doesn't require a science.

-"I know that man's soul better than he knows his own, is how."-

Is all John says, finally stunning you into silence.

—

The mansion was everything the newspaper spreads portrayed it as.

And in person, the walls surrounding the outer garden wall were just as tall as they seemed in the periodicals, their overall width and height causing John's throat to erupt in a chuckle once he landed on the immaculately trimmed green lawn cut to staggering perfection almost resembling a carpet trampled under his footwear pressing down it's surfaces in the aftermath of his jump down, letting you climb off of his back and unto the rug-like grass spread that encircled the whole estate dotted with decorative shrubberies, looming palm trees, white rocks and sprawling and exotic plants; a man simply never forgot his military basic training and the things he picked up there --- not even after half a century --- and in spite of the near bastion like fence embracing the premises of the manor from all sides, John found it easy to come in, undetected, grabbing hold of your hand and guiding you behind himself, following the pathway going along the sleek, white facade of the mansion's backyard. If Terry Silver's new home was a country, it would've been long since invaded by now. All pastels, light colors and jagged shapes; either his tastes drastically changed over time or he was simply following the new fashion of things purely because they were the new fashion of things and because he wanted to fly low, slipping beneath the radar, being like everyone else, pretending to be both the grass and the snake inside of it. Now, all was left was finding the man of the hour himself if he was present on the estate and judging by all the cars parked out front, like so many models on a show, he must've been. A maid carrying a tray of crushed ice in a heavy crystal decanter appears in sight and John feels you gasp in concealed surprise behind him, squeezing his arm wordlessly, fearing getting caught and seen by someone prematurely, no doubt, only for a taller, smartly dressed figure in blue to immediately come into sight once the server nearly drops the contents she was carrying away from whatever party she was catering, struggling underneath the weight of her platter's contents. At this point, John feels your hand let go of his.

Terry Silver. There he was. Meeting his gaze, head on.

He was dressed for vacation, looking like he was on a very long one.

John nods his way, smiling; the gesture unreturned. Figures.

The man, the legend, the myth.

It was time to leave the eternal vacation, though --- come back down to planet Earth.

-"What do you want?"-

Terry immediately snipes dryly, tight-jawed, seemingly cracking his neck, instantly recognizing him, appearing cold and detached, John certain that you were still in his shadow, just behind him, too embarrassed and scared to stand side by side beside him, trying to make yourself look small once he steps out of the looming corner of the manor's outer wall opening into a grand garden affair, riddled with people seated on outdoors commodes and loveseats not far off, further into the estate grounds, waited on by a staff of mingling butlers, finding Terry's eyes travelling from him, to his shoulders, of his arms, to the body adjoined to him and finding you standing there, discerning you, perhaps instantly, the shift in demeanor being almost immediate once the apologetic maid scurries off to tend to her duties and Terry's gaze remains frozen on you, through John. If he was on the verge of arguing with him on sight, the desire visibly disperses and Terry merely stands there, motionless, lost and vacant, you reacting much the same as the party goes on, only a couple of feet away, the silence looming heavy, like a bullet fired in the dead of night. John could swear, if someone dropped a tiny silver cocktail spoon at this party, it would be heard over on the other side, in Mexico; tension only interrupted by a chipper voice cutting through the discomfort looming like a dark cloud. The woman from the newspaper. The one with the 'X' over her face. Charlene, Charlotte, Cherry whatever. John remembered her full name alright, but he didn't bother giving her respect of pretending he did. -"Terrence! Aren’t you going to introduce us?"- Pep in her step followed with an English accent, she stands beside him, showing off a cool smile, Martini glass adorned with a garnish in hand; John interlocks his arm with yours, practically forcing you forward, stiff as you were, refusing to allow you stand behind his back, like some sort of nobody vagrant or a mouse attempting to crawl back into its hole. Nobody puts Baby in a corner, not on his watch, he thinks to himself. The very fact Terry didn't introduce you as This was the woman I loved, wanted to marry, wanted to have children with, wanted to have everything in the world with thirty years ago side by side with the man I've been through literal hell and back with was offensive enough John's taste buds.

So, he introduces himself.

-"Old friend."-

He speaks up, gruffly, with some humor. Introducing you next.

Seeing as how clearly you were too tongue tied to do it by yourself.

-"Old friend of an old friend."-

John glances at you averting your gaze awkwardly, forcing a tiny smile and trying not to look at anyone for too long, Cheyenne's giggle giving off the airs that she didn't particularly care what he introduced you or himself as in the vast coterie of all the other people here present with Terry still being as speechless as can be, trying not to show it, giving a million dollar act. Was he truly going to say nothing to you? Not even a common greeting? Nothing at all? Nothing came to mind? -"Oh, how cheeky!"- The woman next to him exclaims, and for fuck's sake, was he going to take that icicle of seemingly haughty, stoic indifference Terry was toting around and ram it in deep until it bleeds; twist it too, for good measure, until he snaps to his senses. John goes in for the jab. -"So, you tied the knot, did you?"- He asks, even though he knew the answer was negative. He did enough research by now. Terry knew him well enough to be well aware he wouldn't come here unprepared and the way he fidgets in his skin, jaw nearly bending forward in discomfort only proves as much. The woman next to him nearly erupts in laughter at the query. That funny, huh? Like it was the funniest prospect she's ever heard in her life. Your arm interlocked with John's only tightens, like a vice. -"Oh, no, me and Terrence aren’t married!"- Cheyenne throws her head back and for a brief second, John catches Terry's eyes grazing you, lingering there from the edge of his peripheral vision, there's the brilliant vestige of tears in the corner of your stare, firmly tucked away beneath your lashes. -"But, any friends of his are my friends."- She declares jubilantly. -"Margaritas?"- Before a yes or no answer could even properly be given, a uniformed server with a silver tray approaches you, offering you both wordlessly a drink, and going for fair play, John grabs himself a tall beverage, being a gentleman and handing you one too even though he was more of a Scotch or beer type of guy, not whatever green cooled off slop concoction this was, cooler perhaps being only Terry's gaze, watching you and watching him unblinking from across the array of decorative glasses while Cheyenne already disappeared from by his side, making herself busy schmoozing a guest not even two steps away.

None of them dare say a word to you.

Certainly not one of scorn, haughtiness, mockery or criticism.

John was certain that if they did, that he'd set the mansion on fire.

---

-"Why’d you bring her along? Why’d you dredge up the past?"-

The whole thing was tactically hurried; Terry practically ushering him up the second floor of the manor and towards a balcony fenced off transparent glass overlooking the lawn for some privacy. He knew he touched a nerve through the very fact they were in a secluded place, away from the crowd, having this conversation in the first place and that Terry was cutting right to the chance, his body language concealing nervousness, hands in his pockets, shoulders protruding forward defensively. The stance a prisoner of war has when he's being interrogating and trying to convince everyone he doesn't know anything when he clearly does. John speaks dryly. With all the seriousness in the world, keeping his eyes firmly planted on you down below, looking a bit lost but trying to make the best of it, chatting with a maid from across a table spread of elaborate salads. Probably the most preferable company at the whole party, for all intents and purposes. -"Because I believe in a little something called love. You should try it sometimes, Terrence."- John takes the figurative proverbial knife of mockery and digs it in deep and Terry's right there, receiving the blow and returning it in kind just like John knew he would. Terry wouldn't be Terry if he didn't. -"Rich, coming from you! Pushing me away as many times as you did. Disappearing! Wanting to stay gone. Insisting on it no matter how hard I tried. Now, you show up, jumping over the fence of my home, ammunition in hand."- His jaw tightens, hand gripping the edge of the balcony with whitened knuckles, his other free hand pointing vigorously. He was angry. Why, though? If he was quite so happy as he claimed to be? Nothing real could ever be damaged, no matter how much ammunition John brought to the fold. Terry's sudden onslaught of semi-suppressed anger is suddenly replaced by a deep exasperation once his gaze falls down on you; a figure against the green of his perfect lawn. Terry's hand anxiously runs through his loose hair. When did that happen by the way? Did he forget why he tied his hair back so many years ago in the first place? For who? -"Don’t even want to know how she jumped fence. Did you put her on your back or something!?"- 

Avoidance.

Avoiding the topic at hand by focusing on random semantics.

Yeah, John put you on his back and climbed over the mansion walls.

What of it?

Would he prefer if he did things the way his new, so-called friends apparently tended to? Discussing on feeding the destitute with Kale over an App? Playing at acceptance and bleeding heart Liberal tolerance and then calling strangers inbred? Pretending that an old army friend was nobody of consequence and that what they've been through out there together, the type of thing someone would write a memoir about, was nothing special either? Would that be preferable?

-"It’s how I do things. You know me. Tough old spine."- 

John shrugs and grins into his own chin, self-content.

Terry's weirdly harrowed reaction brought on a warm wave of relish.

He deserved to have the smug, distant aura of coldness wiped off from his face.

If only for a moment.

John steps closer as he spoke.

-"But, you should also know, there was only ever one woman for me, and I loved her all my life. There’s never been another one since."-

He shakes his head steadily, feeling his voice slide forth from the precipice of his mouth with so much firm, unyielding, silent conviction that he could've been easily giving the pledge of allegiance. There's been women in the physical sense. Just not in any that matters. Terry knew that. Terry tried to set him up with the occasional dime piece a million times throughout the years and while John used the opportunity, the epilogue of such acquittances ended the same way; by ending. John thought Terry needed a reminder of that too right before he'd get the bright idea of accusing him of being loveless. Of not knowing what love is. Wouldn't put it past him nowadays. -"I know everything there is to know about it."- John assesses. -"Think you do too, sweetheart."-  He adds, semi-snarky, semi-sincere, watching something about Terry's eyes change. A distant shadow falling over them. The distant sunset overcast across the Pacific vista encasing the outline of his features in a hazy red overtone. The view looked like a million dollars from up here. Probably cost as much too. But, Terry wasn't even looking out towards the ocean. He looked down towards you instead --- all alone, walking out towards the row of palm trees separating his garden from his private beach, away from the company of guests engrossed in their mutual conversations. -"Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here having this conversation."- John states matter-of-factly, scrutinizing Terry's averted gaze, staring out into the distance. No, you'd be down there, with the broad you're flaunting and you'd never let her out of your sights, John thinks to himself. Not up here, discussing who's right or wrong with me. Suddenly, Terry's face erupts into anger. Figures. People tended to get mad when someone made them face the truth of things. It was usually their last refuge. -"You don’t have the right to meddle in my private life. The war’s over! This isn’t military hierarchy anymore! We're not out on the battlefield! You don’t know the first thing about me, John."- He seethes through gritted teeth, speaking in a partially hushed, venom-riddled tone as to not disrupt the party going on below. A party lacking its host up here doing cartwheels around sheer facts instead of going down there --- rushing down there, in fact --- grabbing you by the hand and never letting you go again before you get bored of being alone. Embarrassed at being forgotten and overlooked. And you'd decide to leave.

Not know the first thing about him?

Heck, he knew everything about him!

From when he got his last mandatory Malaria shot in the army stationed doctor's office back in the military and how his arm where the needle jab when through swell up for days because his skin was that sensitive to how they used to eat insects, worms and bugs to survive back in that cage in 'Nam. There was nobody who knew Terry like John --- except for you.

-"Sure do."-

John has to laugh.

Not know him? He knew Terry like his own fingers.

Like his own two hands.

Was time for some tough love on the matter.

-"I know Tofu Screw down there laughed at the prospect of being married to you to your face while you couldn’t get your eyes off another woman who looked like she was going to cry because of it."-

John decides to speak clearly, without murmuring it and for once, Terry seems to be rendered speechless, like he knew what he was hearing was legitimate and accurate, mouth agape right before he took to chewing his own lip in agitation, suddenly uneasy in his own skin. If he wanted to go to you, he should just go to you. Now. Right now. Drop this whole charade. Quite pretending he was something he wasn't. Stop neutering himself. Aim for what he really want it and hold unto it. Cease living a lie. Because of all this? It was all a lie. John knew as much and he knew Terry knew as much too. Was never about therapy. About that crap he inhaled into his nose. It was about passion. Terry being built from it. Every drop of blood in his veins singing out for it. He wasn't built for a half-assed existence. Neither of them were. You weren't either, that was for sure. The old wound was rendered open, bleeding inwardly and one last time, John decides to press his finger into it for good measure. -"Not quite the life you dreamed of, huh?"- He prods and Terry's face and eyes shoot up towards him, appearing haunted, like someone who's seen a ghost. At this point, you stood on the edge of his estate next to a wall of pale rocks on a sandy white dune, windswept against the swaying palm trees, quiet and dignified with your beverage in hand. You could've had your children's children with Terry by your side at this point, going for a coastline stroll at dusk. Funny how when you lose one battle, you tend to lose all of them and one domino collapsing leads to all of them following suit; he supposed that's why he took the tournament loss in 1985 as hard as he did even though Terry never quite understood his reasoning, but he came here today to fix that. Fix forty years of mistake making and put back everything in order. Starting with you. Starting with Terry. Because it was better late than never. Things were only ever truly lost when one gave up fighting and if John had to, he'd prefer going down while still wearing his boots. Remembering to blink, Terry practically spits his words. It was all a ploy, of course. A mask. A carefully curated facade. To conceal just how raw he was right now. John would let him have his coping mechanisms, for now, if that's what he needed. To bullshit and delude himself some more.

-"What'd you tell her to get her to agree to come out here?"-

Only the truth, John thought of himself, so help me God.

Terry's hand grabs the edge of his jacket, pulling him closer, squeezing the zipper.

Careful now, or his guests would find their host isn't quite as mindful as he touts himself.

That there was, perhaps, a bit of Cobra Kai still present inside of him.

That it never left. It was merely brumating.

Now rearing its head; waking up.

-"I told you that you never stopped loving her. Did I lie?"-

John drawls steadily and just like that, Terry's fingers let him go and before John can blink, he's already gone, long legs strutting and rushing down the foyer past a baffled member of staff, away from the balcony, practically rushing down the stairs, leaving John behind. Showtime, he thinks to himself, once Terry's voice, loud and abrupt, echoes across the foyer, reaching his ears like a brewing tempest. -"I’ll need the premises cleared out. Now! Show’s over!"- He shouts. John doesn't see it in action, but his senses sure enjoy the sound of complete and utter wrath shaking up the ground floor of the manor. He hears the grand main entrance down below practically swing open with a loud thud and he witnesses Terry, on the lawn, sauntering towards his own guest, hands open, ordering them out. No two ways around it. Baby, now we're talking. Oh, we're back in business, alright --- some pleased, content part of John's whispers in response. As if on cue, the so far unseen security detour scours the premises in black suits, ushering people out, one by one and all it took was one line on Terry's part. That's precisely the man John remembered. The man he called his friend. -"Everyone."- Terry assesses himself and the giggling woman from the newspaper jumps up from the wicker garden recliner, her mouth practically plopping open, Martini glass adorned with a garnish forgotten on a nearby table. -"What do you mean!?"- She practically squeaks, demanding answers in a shrill voice. John didn't blame her, but it was too damn pleasing to see, like scratching a long overdue itch. -"What about my promotion, Terrence!?"- Cheyenne's shock is palpable once one of the dozen bodyguards Terry had on stand placed his hand on her shoulder, ready to show her and her posse out. -"Promotion’s canceled."- Terry clarifies bluntly, offering no further explanations, cutting the cord without remorse. Back turned towards the balcony in his blue blazer, John doesn't see his expression, but he doesn't have to; it was the words he caught from upstairs that mattered. The fact your attention was caught by the ruckus was what mattered. Standing on the beach front, you turn your head to the commotion, slightly perplexed and frightened by all the noise, no doubt --- the sun was sinking into the ocean and the dimmed skyline behind you was nightfall purple, solar torches flickering alive all around the grounds like so many stars.

John was a good friend. Always. One way or another.

Even when his intent was immediately clearly understood.

He'd clear the terrain for you and Terry to be alone.

By any means necessary.

This was war.

The first among many battles.

And he's just won the chief one.

-"Sir, everyone's been told to evacuate the premises."-

One of the waiters fearfully approaches him; some boy in his late twenties by the looks of it, carrying a tray of something he entirely wouldn't mind having, for a change, considering the circumstances and the scene unfolding in front of him. A good Macallan in a massive crystal decanter. Not bad. Not bad at all. Finally --- a man's drink. Was time for a celebration. -"Nope. Don't think I will, kiddo."- John helps himself, grabbing a glass and the bottle at ease, pouring himself some much-deserve refreshments refreshments, turning towards the emptied out garden lawn, watching the dispossessed, struggling girlfriend get carted out and left at the car park, roaring engines hurriedly abandoning the lot, her ginger haired friend with the Habsburg jawline comment in tow. Emile, was it? Good riddance. Sometimes, someone's sole purpose in life was to serve as an example; the example here being, offensive words and shittalking don't come cheap and John Kreese always find a way to dish out payback. Often, much sooner than anyone would've hoped. Life comes at you fast. John brings the edge of the glass to his mouth, relishing the taste of things working out just the way he knew it would, observing Terry cleaning house, guiding the last of his guests out, towards the front gate. Was it tremendously ethical to have one woman moved out only for another one to immediately take her place? Absolutely not. John knew you'd have your reservations. That you'd pity those undeserving of pity because you were a fundamentally good person, just like his Betsy used to be. That you'd pity those who'd never pity you. Who'd barely show you a molecule of respect. That you'd fight against this, in your own way, citing ethics. Kindness. Honor. But, there was no ethics in warfare. Only winners and losers. And this victory belonged to you. To him. To Terry himself. To Cobra Kai. Whether you liked it or not. You'd learn to like it. He sighs, content, the heavy, hearty liquor taste burning his tongue as he addressed the baffled waiter eyeing him he had a pair of horns growing from his forehead. Hilarious. -"But I do think I'll have that drink now. Today deserves a toast."- Terry's form disappears somewhere in the shadow of his palm tree lot on the precipice of the beach where you stood just a moment ago and John knew then that he's done a good job. The rest of the battle was up to his Lieutenant.

John smiles against his hard liquor, enjoying the lays rays of the sunset's golden hour.

He nearly busted out laughing once a question came unbidden into his mind.

Who's gonna eat all that Tofu and vegetable screws now?

---

Desperation.

His heart is pounding like a drum when he finds you by the incoming tide, concealed by the shadow of an Acacia tree from the fallout of the evening, arms wrapped around your torso and he reaches out, on instinct, thirty years of yearning contained in a single touch. You seem like you were worried. Scared. A verge away from crying. Windswept by the salty gusts of air blown in from the coastline. He needs you. Needs you. Needs you so badly, he could imagine myself dying, combusting, if he didn't embrace you here and now, protecting you from everything and anything that surrounded you. Pulling you close to him. You nearly stutter when you see him walking into sight, leaving John in the manor and relying on his security to close the gates and show everyone out into the streets; he was certain half of The Valley would be talking about this by tomorrow but he could always use the excuse that he was an old man who needed his rest and that his guests --- well, they simply stayed longer than propriety allowed. Did it matter? Fuck them all. Fuck everything and everyone. He was happy. Feral. Crestfallen. So many years. So many. He wants to shout at the sky like a lost, howling dog. -"Terry, what's happening back there!? What are you doing here!?"- You ask in a hurry, confused, unsure if you should stay or leave, panic highlighting your voice and your eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights of a moving car speeding your way. Leave? Not a chance. Not ever again. He'd burn the World down if you ever deprived him of your company for even but a moment. The palms of his hands encircle your face and before he knows it, his body is conjoined with yours with every atom of ache, nostalgia and heartache bleeding together and it feels like time is standing and rushing all at once, caught amidst his fingertips grazing your skin. You're cold.

He'll be your warmth.

Your friend, your confidante, your family, your lover.

He wants to know everything. Absolutely everything.

Every minute, every second of your life between now and 1985.

-"What I should've done thirty two years ago."-

Terry murmurs, kissing you with such a ferocity his yellow shades slide off the top of his head and into the sand under his feet.

Fuck's sake, he could weep.

[ilovekitkatok]

･✧*:･Lana Del Rey's songs for your relationship with these characters:

TERRY SILVER:

Karate Kid III - Million Dollar Man

You said I was the most exotic flower Holding me tight in our final hour I don't know how you convince them and get them, babe I don't know what you do It's unbelievable And I don't know how you get over, get over Someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you

One for the money And two for the show I love you, honey I'm ready, I'm ready to go How did you get that way? I don't know You're screwed up and brilliant Look like a million dollar man So why is my heart broke?

Cobra Kai - Off To The Races

My old man is a tough man, but He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam And he shows me, he knows me Every inch of my tar-black soul He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone

Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes Says it feels like heaven to him

JOHN KREESE:

Karate Kid - Blue Jeans

Blue jeans, white shirt Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn It was like, James Dean, for sure You're so fresh to death and sick as c-cancer

[...]

Big dreams, gangsta Said you had to leave to start your life over I was like, no please, stay here We don't need no money, we can make it all work

Cobra Kai - Norman Fucking Rockwell

Goddamn, man-child You fucked me so good that I almost said: I love you You're fun, and you're wild But you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through Your poetry's bad, and you blame the news But I can't change that, and I can't change your mood Ah-ah

'Cause you're just a man It's just what you do Your head in your hands As you color me blue Yeah, you're just a man All through and through Your head in your hands As you color me blue Blue, blue, blue

[roadkill-writes]

Party Animals II

Pairing: Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz x reader | Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz x Moon | Platonic!Demetri X platonic!Reader

Warning(s): Swearing, Use of harsh language, mentions of underage Drinking , Eli being a dick to reader (per usual), briefly proofread , my bad writing, Kreese being looked up to

Word count: 3.6k, 10.1 pages

I do not condone my work being rewritten or reposted on Tumblr or any other website!

Part 1

You ended up leaving the party after the altercation with Hawk, even though Demetri and Moon both tried to stop and talk to you but you just pushed past them and stomped out of the house in a blind drunken rage. Not stopping when you seen Tory seething in rage and not even caring that you car pooled here with some of the other Cobra's you tried to order an Uber but your phone was dead ‘of course’, so you continued to walk down the street long away from the house. Completely in aware what was going on within Moons house in your absence.

“Excuse me!” Demetri said into the microphone. Everyone in the crowd turned to look at him. “I’d like to make a toast.”

“To Eli Moskowitz.” Demetri raised his cup in the air as everyone looked around confused, muttering between themselves asking who that was, as Demetri scanned the room. “Oh. I’m sorry,” Demetri scoffed and threw his empty cup on the floor. ”Some of you might know him as Hawk. But underneath that crazy clown cosplay and whatever type of Manic Panic he dumps in his hair, he’s still good old Eli. My binary brother. Well he was my binary brother. You know what he is now? A real zero.”

“All right that’s enough Demetri.” Hawk called out. He looked around the room looking for (Y/n), she was nowhere to be found within the crowd of kids in the living room.

“Don’t let that angry red hairdo fool you. He’s a big softie. We watched every Harry Potter movie together, and he bawled like a baby when Dobby died.”

The others laughed as Demetri imitated a pathetic cry.

“Right if he doesn’t shut up, I’m gonna shut him up.” Hawk said to Mitch, getting angrier by the minute.

”Remember what Sensei said about showing mercy.” Hawk clenched his jaw and turned his head back to face Demetri.

“In the words of Eli’s hero, Steve Jobs, I’ve got one more thing. Have any of you heard of sleep enuresis?” Demetri asked the crowd.

“Don’t.” Hawk tried to beg. But Demetri just smiled and continued on with his speech.

“That is the medical term, of course. In the King’s English, it’s good old fashioned bed wetting. And Eli here is a pro.” Demetri pointed his finger guns at him and winked. “My Mom even had a special air mattress for sleepovers. And she called it; Eli’s waterbed.” The party goers just continued to laugh.

Hawks fists tightened and his eyebrows scrunched together. “Screw mercy. You’re a corpse!” He shouted as he advanced to Demetri. Some of Miyagi-Dos blocked him from stepping any closer and Cobra Kai closed in behind Hawk and Mitch.

Moon stepped between them. “Guys. Stop. We’re friends.”

”Oh, I smell a rumble!” Police sirens and lights lit up the room and everyone’s faces.

“Cops!’ The party goers scattered in every direction out of the house, some grabbing pizzas others grabbing drinks.

“Demetri! You got lucky!” Hawk shouted. “I’ll see you at school!” He shouted over some of Miyagi-Do’s shoulders as he pointed a finger at Demetri before he got shoved backwards and ran off.

You had been walking down the sidewalk well far way from Moon’s house trying not to trip on your heels as a bunch of cop cars sped past you in the direction you had come from, but not much worry crossed your drunken mind.

You were very much still angry, as you pushed through the doors of the Cobra Kai dojo. Kicking off your heeled boots and setting up to spar the dummy set up towards the center of the dark room. Throwing kicks, punches and jabs until tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. Who would have thought a few hours ago you’d be trying to down enough alcohol to put a grown man on his ass and now you’re here, in the dojo trying to fight the rage burning inside of you.

‘Gosh how could you be so stupid to even think Hawk would listen to you, to actually acknowledge the words you were screaming at him in that bathroom’

A scream ripped through your throat as you began punching the rubber dummy harder and harder until you fell to your knees in a sob. Tears spilling down your face in the dark.

“Crying solves nothing, even you should know that.”

You quickly wiped your tears away and looked up. Sensei Kreese stepped out of the shadows of the rooms. “Yes Sensei!” You rose to your feet haphazardly.

Kreese held his hand out for a moment. “No need for formality after hours (y/n). Call me John.” You nodded your head slowly.

“Now tell me, why on a Friday night are you alone in here and now out with your friends?” Your gaze rested down on your sock covered feet. “I was but..” Your words fell off as you began thinking about tonight.

“But what? Did something happen?” Your words were trying to climb out of your throat like knives. “I had a fight with a few friends, even told my best friend I’ve had a crush on him for forever and he just brushed it off like nothing happened.” Your gaze was still on your feet.

Kreese just nodded his head as you talked about your experience at the party, taking in the details of it all. “I see and how is that all making you feel now?” Your head shot up to look at Kreese. “I’m pissed off.”

Kreese shrugged his shoulders as he peered at you. “Good.”You stuttered in confusion, “W-What?” He gave you a smirk. “I said good, use that anger to make you a better fighter.” A blank stare crossed your face as you stared at him. “Let’s go now. Use that anger.” He walked off to grab the sparring pads to hold so he could feel the power behind the punches and kicks you were going to throw.

Your jean jacket was long forgotten on the floor as sweat covered your body. Sweating out the alcohol was the best thing you could have done after the night you had at the party. Training is the best way to get you to stop thinking about Hawk and your stupid crush. You and Kreese stayed there for hours as you trained before deciding it was late enough in the night and that you should probably go home.

Kreese locked up the door behind you as you stood out of the dojo under the shitty overhead lights shined down on you. “You did great work tonight. I see a lot of potential in you, as long as you continue to harness that power during your fights and in training and you could be an unstoppable fighter.”

A grin was plastered across your face as you thought about all the possibilities, hell maybe you’d even win the All Valley Tournament. “Yes Sensei!”

There was no need to sneak into your house you parents didn’t care much of what you were up to just as long as they thought you were safe. So coming into the house in the middle of the night was nothing new to the, hell coming home from Demetri or Eli’s house this late was none but normal, or at least it used to be. You missed having sleepovers and watching Harry Potter or Starwars, but of course that was all behind you all now, god did you miss it. Everything changed after joining karate.

You finally plugged your phone in after who no knows how long and went to jump in the shower. Washing the day of events off of your body and out of your hair and mind, relaxing in the hot water cascading down your body.

Drying off and making your way back into your room to get dressed you dug around in your closet for a shirt to put on, one of the empty hangers fell off the rack and as you leaned down to pick it up your eyes landed on a shirt you’d been missing for a while, or actually a certain someone was missing it for a while since you took it one night at a sleepover when you had forgotten one. It was Eli’s. It was his original 1977 StarWars episode four shirt he had bought at comic con when you guys were in middle school. This was his favorite shirt, you were just as astonished that night when he let you borrow it as you were this moment sitting on your bedroom floor almost tearing up again. But Sensei said crying doesn’t help anything and that’s something you’ll listen to. But wearing the shirt to bed wouldn’t hurt anything.

The buzzing of your phone finally coming back to life on your nightstand dragged you out of your thoughts just as fast as you put the shirt on. Deciding you probably should check your text messages and calls. You had gotten off the floor to sit on your bed.

Dem🧙‍♂️48 missed calls

Sunshine🌞 4 missed calls

Aisha🤓 5 missed call

Moony🌙 3 missed calls

Miguel🥋 6 missed calls

Hawk🐥 8 missed calls

Oh god Demetri was probably worried sick about you, you could only imagine how he was feeling but god did it annoy you that he thought just blurting your secret out to Hawk was okay. You sent him a simple text letting him know that you were home safe and okay and that you just needed some space for a little bit. Last thing you wanted was for Demetri to get the nervous twitches, he’s bad enough when he’s not nervous, let alone after letting his long term best friends secret out to the word he’s probably been shaking in his shoes all night thinking about it.

Opening your text messages with Tory.

Sunshine🌞: Yo where’d you go?

Sunshine🌞: We’ve got a big problem

Sunshine🌞: Call me when you read these

Your mind started to wonder, what was going on? Did these have to do with her being so angry last night? You sent her a text back:

Freak😈: Hey sorry my phones been dead all night is everything okay?

Sunshine🌞: Oh my god I thought you god kidnapped or something you idiot

Freak😈: Lmao! Missed you too loser. Seriously though you good?

Sunshine🌞: No absolutely not good. Caught that bitch kissing Miguel last night at the party

Freak😈: No fucking way! That’s why you were so pissed when I left

Sunshine🌞: Wait when’d you leave Hawk said he had seen you and then couldn’t find you and he was asking around

Freak😈: Ha yeah we had a pretty bad fight very surprised he bothered even asking where I went

Sunshine🌞: God he’s such an idiot are you okay?

Freak😈: Yeah just went to the dojo after the party to blow off some steam and all the alcohol 😂

Sunshine🌞: Haha there ya go girl! Well if we don’t hang out this weekend I’ll text you

Freak😈: Sounds good Sunshine I’ll talk to ya later

Tory was not one to mess with if you weren’t her friend let alone messing with her boyfriend, that was just plain and simple, that was a death wish and not a pretty one.

Your eyes glanced over the text messages from Hawk the most you could see was him texting you he’s sorry. You decided to open the message thread.

Hawk🐥: Princess where’d you go?

Hawk🐥: I’m serious princess you’re in no shape to be alone right now

Hawk🐥: Please I’m sorry for what I said can we just talk

The internal conflict between your heart and your brain was a bloodbath, one wanted you to just completely forgive him to just say it was the alcohol making him think the way he was and the other half wanted to just leave him on read and go to sleep. But you heart won that battle just not completely, you caved ever so slightly and sent him a message. He wasn’t normally a night owl like Tory was and you could only hope tonight wasn’t one of the nights that he chose to be.

Princess👑: Hey

Princess👑: I’m sorry my phone was dead but I’m home safe you don’t have to pretend to worry especially after the fight.

You pressed the power button to lock your phone before putting it down on the nightstand, it was late and you needed sleep. Not like you were tired even though you should have been exhausted after training and the party. Getting comfortable in bed before flipping the switch on your lamp to shut it off, turning onto your side and throwing your blanket over your shoulder to get comfortable.

Ding, Ding

A text message

Ding, Ding

Another

You tried to ignore it, keeping your eyes clenched shut as the light from your screen bounced across your features. Pretending the anticipation wasn’t eating at your skin. ‘Ignore it. It can wait.’

Who were you kidding you couldn’t wait, as some part of you kinda did hope Hawk chose to be an owl tonight. To forgive and forget the things he’s said. To come running at his beck and call. You threw the blanket off your body and sat up hastily reaching to grasp the phone within your hands. The screen lit up again in your hands.

A notification.

An instagram notification.

You flopped back onto your bed, head hitting the pillows you let out a large sigh. You felt absolutely flustered, eyes squeezed shut, arms thrown over your face in embarrassment. Until your phone dinged again. But this time you did hesitate to check it. But then it dinged once twice three more times to texts coming across.

You lifted your arm just enough to take a peak with one eye at your screen held up to your face. Hawk. Your heart fluttered with warmth, maybe being hopeful wasn’t such a bad thing.

Hawk🐥: Thank god you’re okay

Hawk🐥: I’m so sorry for what happened

Hawk🐥: Could we maybe meet up and talk?

Your thumbs hovered over your phone's keyboard so as to not seem so desperate. He made you wait this long so maybe you could make him wait a little while too.

Princess👑: Uhm yeah sure where would you wanna meet?

His reply was almost instantaneous, the thought of him sitting biting his nails waiting for your reply crossed your mind. Oh how you missed Eli’s old mannerisms and the tiny little things that made him who he is no was.

Hawk🐥: Our old hangout spot?

Your lips turned up into a smile, your old hangout spot. The one that hasn’t been touched since you guys were kids. You wondered if the roof was still even on the thing. The place where you'd all hang out in the heat of the summer, when you fell and had bloody knees, popsicles dripping down staining your favorite shirts.

Princess👑: Yeah I’ll be there

Hawk🐥: Sounds good I’ll see ya soon Princess

Your face burned as it flushed thinking about the place. The place where you and Eli had shared a first kiss unbeknownst to Demetri, back in the fifth grade right after your mom had called you to you from the house saying that it was time to take Eli home. He had leaned forward in a rush, quickly leaving a peck on your lips and running out and back towards your house while you just sat in shock. The place where toys and stolen kisses went to die but it was yours to always come home to.

The sun bleached and peeling paint was your safe place once before. The memories came flooding back the moment you stepped past the wooden door frame. The club house your dad built you just within the forest line, still close enough to the house where they could holler from the back deck and you’d come running like a dog to food. Yet somehow you felt so far away now, as your shoes scuffed across the wooden floor. Taking a seat in the beaten lawn chair you fiddled with your thumbs as you waited.

The slight breeze that blew through the open window ran a shiver over your body, the shirt and shorts pajama combo not doing much to keep you warm as you didn’t bother grabbing a jacket on the way out the door.

Eli knew the route to your house like the back of his hands, the years of making that trek whether on foot, on bike or by car, he could at this point probably do it blind folded. Of course as long as your neighbor didn’t have his lawn chairs out on the sidewalk like he sometimes did, he’d make it there in one piece.

So there he stood outside the side gate of your yard waiting to let himself in ready to hike through your yard like the years prior. To march straight into your secret cabin and take back everything he’s ever said, to fall to his knees and beg for you to forgive him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, unlatched the lock and pushed forward. Wiping the sweaty hands onto his black track pants and stepping through the dewy grass to the secret oasis that he used to hold dear to his heart. Just like you.

At some point in your tireless waiting you contemplated just getting up and just going back into the house. Shutting all the lights off and just pretending like nothing ever happened. Like you haven’t answered his text at the speed of light. Like it wasn’t the one and only thing you were looking forward to. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. And so you sat there waiting and hoping that he’d show so you could just get this over with.

You felt fidgety as you sat staring down at your shoes, rubbing the rubber soles gently against the floor. A small knock against the wood drew you out of your thoughts, you sat up straight in the chair when he stepped through the door in all his glory. Having to duck down through the smaller door because of his mohawk, you almost chuckled at the sight. He took the seat across from you, his hands intertwined in his lap.

“Hey.” You spoke softly, uncertain of what was to come. He looked up to meet your eyes and a small smile graced his features. “Hey! I’ve been looking for that shirt forever!”

Your face lit up as you let out a laugh.” What? This old thing? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He sported a similar smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Yes, that old thing. But I don’t like nerd shit any more so keep it.” Your smile dropped when he said that. Nerd shit? He loved Starwars, he was nerd shit. “Oh come on Princess, don't lose your smile now.”

“But you used to love ‘nerd shit’ Eli.” Maybe this was a bad idea. “Yeah Princess keyword is used to. That’s not my life anymore. This is.” He motioned to himself.

“Also it’s Hawk now and you know that. But that’s not why I came here.”

“Then why did you come here?” You felt sick, like your stomach was crawling up your throat claws and all.

“I came to make sure you were okay, you were almost tripping over yourself leaving. But mostly because I came to say th-that I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Especially not after what you said about Moon. She’s the love of my life.” He was blunt, way too blunt for your liking. You scoffed at him, he came all this way here to say this?

“Listen babe I get it. Everyone wants a piece of hawk and normally there’s enough to go around but just not right now.” His cocky smirk did nothing but annoy you.

At this point you were just laughing at him, “You came all this way, had me get my hopes up because you decided I deserved to get told we shouldn’t be friends in person?” You stood up harshly, chair getting thrown back as you stood. “Get the fuck away from me please.”

“Babe listen!” He stood hands out as if trying to calm you down.

“Eli go the fuck away! I’m sick of the bullshit you continue to spew out of your mouth. All because you can’t actually comprehend what’s going on in your life. No go!” You pointed to the door as your chest rose and fell in anger.

Eli had seemed to get the message as he went to turn away to leave, but the look in your eyes was filled with hurt and anger as they began to well with tears. He stood in the doorway and looked like he almost wanted to say something else but chose against it, turning his back to you and left without a word.

The moment you thought he was far enough away you fell to your knees in a sob hands covering your face as you heaved to breathe. You couldn’t believe the blatant disregard for you or your feelings and the fact he had to come all the way over just to say those things. You fell asleep that night curled into a ball on your bed, eyes puffy and red, pillow and your cheeks stained with tears.

Eli on the other hand left your house phone in hand, texting Moon. But yet again getting left on read. She laid cuddling in bed with her girlfriend that night with pure bliss in her heart.

[fodenswhore]

Cobra Kai Season 6 PT 1

(discussion/rant???)

- seeing as i did a rant over cobra kai season 5 on here, it’s only fitting that i do the same for part one of season 6!

🐍- as only one half of the season has been released, it wouldn’t really be fair to form a stalemate opinion on what i’ve seen so far. i didn’t hate it, i didn’t dislike it, i didn’t love it - it was just fine. in my opinion, it didn’t have the same exciting vibe as the previous seasons, not sure what it was but it just felt like something was missing. i’m hoping part 2 will feel different.

pregnancy storyline - my opinion on this storyline has and will not change. i still find it unnecessary, i still find it predictable and i still believe the trope ruins any book or movie that it’s worked into. however, that being said, it’s been interesting to see johnny’s character development this season. he’s fully embracing the whole pregnancy and baby vibe and it is pretty sweet to see.

johnny - like i said, it’s been interesting to see johnny’s characters development this season. i really liked the version of johnny we got to see. he got a job!!, he and daniel worked well together (in brief moments), he was supportive of both robby and miguel and he encouraged and supported devon. it was nice to see him getting his life together.

kreese - he’s a wanted man. how did he manage to travel to two different countries? UNDETECTED????

mr miyagi - i was a little baffled by the mr miyagi storyline. it’s so great that they still include him and talk about him because he was such a vital character in the karate kid movies, but i’m not exactly sure where they plan on taking this storyline?? i wonder if maybe mr miyagi used to train/work with sensei kim’s grandfather? we obviously saw that he entered the Sekai Taikai tournament so maybe they entered together?

daniel - ugh he was low-key irritating. miyagi do is supposed to be a partnership between eagle fang and miyagi do, however it just seems like it’s purely miyagi do. i feel they could’ve merged the names and become miyagi fang? i get he wants peace but he was basically causing rifts with johnny for the most stupidest of things. hoping he does better in part 2.

tory - the way no one ran after her when she walked out of miyagi do?? not even robby, her boyfriend?? everyone knew her mum was the only family she had (besides her brother) so i cant believe they just left her to fend for herself and grieve alone. honestly i don’t blame her for joining cobra kai again. it’s hard to say whether she would’ve won the female captaincy if she stayed at miyagi do but she definitely would’ve ended up hurting sam during the fight. i loved the friendship she and sam were forming so hopefully she comes back to miyagi do and they become friends again.

hawk - no WAY did the former all valley male champion not get into the final six for the Sekai Taikai on default. i was so shocked when hawk didn’t get into the group automatically with tory, sam, miguel and robby. and then he only got a place because tory quit like whatttttt! he’s one of the strongest fighters in my opinion, miles better than devon and demetri.

demetri - irritating. never stopped yapping about MIT. thinks he’s the shit. i usually like him but not this season.

kyler- nice to see character development from kyler because he was an absolute prick in the other seasons. he’s still cringe but was cool to see him getting along with miguel and the others.

devon/kenny - devon was annoying, i get the Sekai Taikai is a once in a lifetime opportunity but practically begging for a spot isn’t a good look. she needs to believe in herself and needs to stop worrying about how good others are around her. and the cheating to get into the tournament! like if she can’t win fairly at the challenge to get into tournament, how is she gonna be decent at the tournament at all. kenny deserved that chance to go to the Sekai Taikai, he’s a much stronger and aggressive fighter and it would’ve been perfect for him to show his real potential. i can’t believe the writers made him shit himself and look like an idiot.

so overall, i liked the season so far but i wasn’t overly amazed with it. as always the karate fight scenes were amazing! and this is not hating on the show or the actors this is just me giving my opinion.

find my season 5 rant here :)

[miaxwrites]

Bloodlust

000 | Miguel Diaz x OC

┌───────────┐

BLOODLUST "desire for bloodshed"

└───────────┘

Melanie Brown was a perfectionist. She was also an extremely hardworking, social butterfly who strived to be the best at every task she took on and every challenge that she had to overcome. She always stuck by her friends whenever they needed her, sought to answer questions in class, and also had a rescue cat. Once again, she was a perfectionist. 

Many thought it was a curse to be considered a perfectionist but Melanie always thought of it as a blessing, be it in disguise. Although she may find herself stuck in place going over something for hours until she had it nailed, it made her a better person at the end of the day, performing as her best self. 

It also kept Melanie in her father’s good graces.

Her perfect world however came momentarily crumbling down once she was informed she’d be moving halfway across the planet, settling in Los Angeles, California. The San Fernando Valley to be exact. But that was fine, it just meant she had to start from scratch. 

All she had to do was find a group of people she clicked with, catch up on her studies and join an extracurricular that the school offered. She had done it all once before, she could do it again. 

Just control yourself.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Master List || Prev || Next || Can Also Read Here

[waitingandwishing]

(Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3)

~And I pray that it won't happen again, but then again, I hope it does~

Prev - Next Chapter

Miguel's physical therapist threw his stuff into the trunk of his car. " Good job today, jefe. You crushed it. " He held out his fist to Miguel who gave him a fist bump. 

"R eally? It didn't feel like I did much of anything. " He said, looking up at the man from his wheelchair. 

"H ey, no negative thoughts. Just positive energy. " 

Miguel looked up at him. " I'll keep that in mind. " The therapist smiled and got into his car, driving off. 

Miguel turned his wheelchair around as he started to head home. A Playboy magazine was lowered in front of him on a fishing pole. He looked up; Johnny stood on the second floor. " What's this? " He asked in a confused tone. 

"This is a collection of the tastiest babes of 1988 and you're not going to be able to see them unless you grab it," Johnny told him.

Miguel looked more confused now. " Okay... " He reached up when Johnny pulled it higher.

" Gonna have to try harder than that. " 

"Y ou know I can just find these pictures on my phone right ? " Miguel looked up at him. 

" I t's not true same. Chicks are hotter on the page. " Johnny leaned over the rail some. Miguel shook his head. " But you won't know that unless you get off your butt or you can just keep getting foot runs from that pansy-ass therapist ."

Miguel chuckled as he reached again but missed it.

" Weak! That's all you got, Diaz? I thought you were the All-Valley champ. " Johnny taunted. Miguel pushed himself up, reaching but fell on the hard cement. " Damn it. " Johnny cursed under his breath as he hurried down. Miguel groaned as he sat up. 

"Y ou alright? " Johnny asked as he got down there. 

"Y eah. " Miguel nods. Johnny picked him up around the chest and got him into the wheelchair. 

"I got you bud. Here we go. Just give me a minute and we'll go again. I think I still have my Vanna White Playboy, that will get you going."

"Don't you get it? You could dangle a new Playstation, I still wouldn't be able to stand up." Miguel said upset as he wheeled away. Johnny looked after him, a sad look on his face.

“H ey. ” Trixie waved at Miguel as she left the house. Johnny watched as Miguel’s face lit up and the two of them laughed and chatted away. The former sensei smirked to himself , nodding as an idea formed in his head.

_____________________________________________________

Hawk, Mitch, and a few other Cobra Kai students were at the arcade. Hawk hit a ball out of a kid's hand before they ran away laughing, seeming like little kids again, a time before all this happened. 

"H ey, buddy! " Hawk smiled at Chris, who was working at Golf ‘ n Stuff, as he put the tickets on the counter. 

" H ey prize wench. " Mitch greeted his old best friend.

" What do you guys want? " Chris asked, a bit annoyed. 

"W ell, to spend our hard-earned tickets, of course, " Hawk said with sarcasm lacing his words. " Why don't you be a good girl and grab us one of those bobbleheads? " 

Chris rolled his eyes and went to get it. Once he was on the step stool, Hawk jumped the counter grabbing prizes and throwing them to the others. " Stop! " Chris yelled as they laughed.

" Thanks, Chris. Tell your mom I miss her! " Mitch yelled as they ran. 

"Y eah, tell her to stop calling me, " Hawk added, laughing as they left. Chris grumbled as he texted the rest of Miyagi-Do.

Trixie then came up to the counter from out of nowhere. She had come to watch Camille since she had a play date but her friend and her friend's mom were teaching them how to play mini golf. “ Hey, how much did that cost? ” Trixie asked.

“W hy don’t you just bother someone else. ” Chris rolled his eyes. Trixie dug into her pocket and held out a twenty-dollar bill. Chris hesitated and Trixie rolled her eyes.

“No, it’s not a prank and it’s not pity money. Just take it.” Trixie placed the twenty-dollar bill on the counter. Chris, slightly dumbfounded, watched as she walked away.

“ Trixie!! ” Camille came barreling towards her. Trixie laughed as she spun her sister around. Camille giggled before being set down. “ Can we get ice cream? Marilyn and her mom are waiting outside for us !”

Trixie chuckled, “ Alright, I guess Trick wouldn’t mind if we get ice cream. ” She smiled, holding onto her little sister's hand as they walked to get ice cream together.

Camille ordered her ice cream as well as her friends and her friend's mom. Trixie got bubblegum of course and they both went to Camille’s friends. “ Hey, Camille! Wait up! ” Trixie called as her sister ran to see her friend again. “ Camille !”

Great. She’d officially lost her . Trixie sighed, wandering around before entering an abandoned laser tag stadium. She looked around, hearing groans of pain and crying. Trixie walked further into the room before seeing Demetri on the floor. She gasped as she saw him grasping onto his arm in cries of pain. Trixie sucked in a breath before kneeling next to him.

“G et away from me! ” Demetri screamed, writhing away from Trixie in agony. 

“Hey! Stop moving! It’s gonna hurt if you keep wiggling like a worm.” Trixie yelled, helping Demetri up from the ground and propping him against one of the laser tag props. “Don’t straighten it out, it’ll only hurt more.” She said in a quieter tone.

She quickly dialed 911 on her phone, “Hi, 911? Um… My friend has a broken arm. Yes, uh, Golf ‘N Stuff. Yes… Alright.” She nodded before placing her hand on Demetri’s non-broken one. “Does it still hurt?” She asked and Demetri grunted in response.

A sob broke through as Trixie turned her head to see Sam backed into a corner, crying. Trixie walked up to Sam, who looked at her in fear and tried to back away even more. It broke Trixie’s heart to see her once best friend so scared of her. She knelt in front of her.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not here to hurt you, I’m just here to help.” She said her voice in a whisper. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Hold my hand.” Trixie held out her hand.

Sam took her hand, clutching it tightly. “Focus on me. Breathe in, breathe out.” Trixie exhaled and inhaled slowly. Sam followed her breathing pattern with shaky sobs and tears. “You’re gonna be okay. I called 911… Demetri’s arm will be broken but he’ll live.”

Sam nodded and Trixie hesitantly wrapped her arms around her former friend. The brown-haired girl embraced the hug and leaned in closer with a sniffle. 

_____________________________________________________

The bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered the building. A few new students walked in, one being Kyler. Hawk looked over, his face falling. Kreese walked out of the back office.

“H ey, you good? ” Trixie asked and Hawk swallowed before nodding.

“Y eah, I’m fine, ” Hawk muttered.

" Class. Welcome our new students . " He said as he walked over.  Mitch walked over to them.  

" I 'm going to call you Chodenose and Taintbreath. " He said. 

"W hat the hell did you just say? " Kyler said, stepping forward and using his intimidation to scare Mitch. 

Hawk walked over to Kreese. " Sensei, I don't think these guys are Cobra Kai material. " He said. 

Kreese turned to look at him. " Weren't you the one saying that we should get recruits ?"

"Well, yeah. It's just that I know a few of these guys and they're-" Hawk was cut off by Kreese.

"Natural athletes. Something similar to Trixie, yes? It’s exactly what's been missing in our dojo." He said with narrowed eyes. Hawk glanced down briefly. 

"E veryone fall in, " Kreese called looking over Hawk's shoulder before looking back at him. Hawk gave a small bowl before he joined the others.

" Joining Cobra Kai is a privilege, not a gift. Which is why our recruits must earn their positions in this dojo. " Hawk glanced back at Kyler. Once he looked away Kyler smiled. " Prepare for battle. Only the strong will survive. " Kreese said. " Students prepare for combat, " Kreese called.

They all moved to where they formed a circle. " Peter snake! Legit! " Brucks said as he walked past the cage. Hawk glanced over at Kyler , he seemed less confident now. 

“H ey, don’t let him get to you. ” Trixie nudged Hawk, “ Don’t be a pussy. Especially after what happened at Golf ‘ N Stuff. ” She said with disdain. Hawk sucked a breath, feeling guilty after what happened with Demetri.

Kyler and Brucks were walking past Hawk when Kyler stopped. " Holy shit! Look, remember that kid with the lip? Yo, I thought he moved. " Kyler said mockingly. 

"O h, shit. You're right! Right. " Brucks said like the idiotic sidekick that he was. " The hair kinda distracts you from it. " The two were laughing. 

Hawk slowly reached up to hide his lip, his head ducking down some. Trixie stepped in front of him and crossed her arms. “ Shut it, Brucks .”

“ Woah. Hey…” Kyler slid past his friend in front of Trixie, walking a bit too close. “ Trixie, right? The hair’s nice… ” He reached out to touch her hair before Trixie grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply.

“Respectfully, don’t touch me,” Trixie said. Kyler wincing as she lets go. “If you can’t even handle that, how’re you gonna handle Cobra Kai?” 

"A ll right, class. Let the games begin. " Kreese walked into the middle, looking around. " You? " He gestured to Kyler, motioning him into the ring. 

"A ll right, bro. You got this. " Brucks said as Kyler followed. Kreese laughed some as he gestured to Mitch. 

"Y ou, " Mitch smirked as he walked into the middle towards Kyler. Kreese backed up, out of the way.

" Ready? " Kreese said , Mitch gave a bow as Kyler got into a crouching position. " Fight. " Mitch instantly kicked Kyler in the nose, earning a point. 

"N ow you're dead, " Kyler said as he moved back into position. Kyler dodges every punch, soon tackling him to the ground and getting him into a headlock. 

Holding tightly until Mitch had to tap out. Kyler got up. "Now finish him," Kreese said. Kyler pulled Mitch up some by his gi, punching him in the nose. He walked back for Brucks. 

"Y o, lights out, baby, " Kyler said as their chest bumped. Mitch got up and started to move back to his spot. 

"W here are you going? " Kreese asked him, stopping Mitch in his tracks.

“T o my spot. " He gestured.  

"Y ou lost to an untrained fighter. He's going to take your spot on the team. " 

Mitch looked over at Kyler who had a pleased smile on his face. "All right." Brucks cheered for his friend. 

Hawk stepped forward, " Sensei, assface has been loyal to this dojo. " He said, using the nickname they had given Mitch when he first arrived. 

" I 'm afraid he's not… Cobra Kai martial. " Kreese said, looking at the boy. " I told you only the strong would survive. " 

Tory was fighting one of the new girls, the two moving with speed arrived with great agility but naturally Tory was the victor of that round. Tory kicked her in the face to finish her. 

The girl looked up. " You chipped my tooth bitch. " She hissed. 

Tory shrugged. " You needed braces anyway. " 

Trixie stifled a snicker as the girl got angrily to her feet, a bit taller than Tory. " Good job. Nichols. " Kreese said before turning to the other girl. " You know the drill, off the mat. " 

She backed away, glaring at Tory. " Damn girl, did you see that? " Brucks said in a low voice as Tory went back to place.

" You, big boy, " Kreese said, calling him over. 

Brucks started to walk up. " Oh yeah! All right, who's going down next? " He said laughing a bit as he walked into the middle. " Come on !"

" Let's go, " Kyler said. 

Hawk roughly shoved the flag into the hands of the person by him. His eyes narrowed into a glare. Trixie smirked, crossing her arms and resting her weight on her hip. " He's mine! " He said in a growling voice. 

"G et him, Lip, " Kyler yelled and Trixie feigned a punch as Hawk walked up to him, Brucks bowing up. 

" O h alright. Let's see if I can fix that lip of yours then. " He turned, watching as Hawk walked past him. Hawk took off his gi top, showing his tattoo. Brucks looked shocked, a deadly smirk on Hawk's face as he turned back. 

"D ude.. " Brucks muttered seeing the grim reaper tattoo on Hawk's chest. Kreese gave his hand gently to the boy with the flags who then lowered them. Hawk got into a fighting position, glancing at Kreese who just gave him a nod. 

Hawk moved forward quickly, kicking him in the side of the face. He was resilient, constantly moving. Punching, kicking, and elbowing the bigger guy. He was showing no mercy. 

Hawk moved like it was nothing, just pulling Brucks along. Blood was oozing from Brucks's mouth, panting. " Wait, stop. " He said in staggered breaths. 

Hawk grabbed him, flipping him onto the ground in one graceful movement. Kreese watched, showing no emotion. " Finish him. " He said simply . Trixie widened her eyes as Hawk started to punch Brucks in the face over and over . She turned away in shock. Kreese watched Hawk punch the boy, lips curling into a faint smile. Hawk stood up, spitting on Brucks who was sobbing , before walking away. “ Somebody pick him up, ” Kreese said. Trixie clenched her hands as she saw the blood, a faint memory bubbling to the surface.

Warm blood had leaked onto the wooden floor , it was wet and stuck to the floor. She immediately knew it would be hard to scrub it off the knife. Salty tears mixed into the blood as she dropped to the floor.

“W ould Miss Wong like to go next? ” Kreese called out, interrupting Trixie’s train of thought, and snapped her head up.

She nodded, walking onto the mat with another guy. They exchanged deadly glares as the fight then started. “ I don’t wanna have to hit a girl. ” The guy said. Trixie was already running up to the guy and kicking him in the stomach.

“A w, that’s too bad. Wanna be best friends? ” She mocked as she punched him in the sternum . The guy gasped, falling to the floor trying to regain his breath. “ Huh, guess not. ” She shrugged, walking back into the circle. Tory gave her a high five and the guy glared at her before stumbling off and out of the dojo.

[secretsandwritinggs]

Hi, idk if you do requests, but if you do, may I request a cobra Kai Kim da eun x reader headcannon

pairings - Kim Da-Eun x you & non-binary reader

kg's notes - i just wanted to make something for the Kim lovers out there, so if you have any suggestions then let me know! i am going to be working with platonic then i will shift into more of a romantic aspect if you're wanting that. i won't being doing that tonight though.

She certainly has a lot of pictures of you lying around in the dojo or in her office somewhere (primarily on the floor).

She would get into Kreese's ass (figuratively not actually, unless you're wanting her to) if he was being too strict on you.

She has never really celebrated Halloween so you're the first to introduce to the spooky spirit!! 👻

You and her do not share a lot of common things that would spark interest, but you certainly are in a trance when she speaks about what makes her happy vice versa her with you.

You are definitely the one who makes the most messes and she's the one to clean them up without you noticing.

You are the only one to call her Kimmy; the others get tossed or thrown around even if they tried saying it.

She doesn't like being separated from you so she stays close to your location no matter where you are.

She is always quick to defend you, but will correct you in private.

You asked her for her favorite color which she didn't have one so you told her a color that she might like which became her favorite

She seems to know all your allergies without you telling her

You might want to look into how she did that, especially since you didn't disclose that information...

The two of you hate seeing the other get hurt and would do anything to prevent it happening again

Kreese teases you two about this in a more private setting, like having dinner at Silver's house for example.

She likes to spoil you with whatever she can find that you might like and there are definitely some questionable things in there

One time, she gave you a decapitated frog that was sealed in resin for your birthday

You gave her a keychain, but she didn't put it with her keys, she kept it around a loop of her pants instead

She admitted to you when she visited home that she named one of her snakes after you which is sweet yes, but it also made you wonder how many of those snakes she has

You found out that Kim has a sweet tooth and to this day, she denies having one though you see her eat the candies in her office.

She offers you some candy when you don't bring the fact up. Kim: "It's mostly sour candy not sweet candy." Reader: "Right, sure it is, Kimmy" Kim: "Do you not believe me, Reader?" Reader: "I will once you give me a piece." Kim, handing Reader a piece: "Don't say I didn't warn you" Reader, putting the candy in their mouth: "Oh that's not too- Oh!" Kim, laughing: "Believe me now?" Reader, coughing out the candy: "Oh, yes, I believe you."

You think about one-uping her after the candy incident, since your cheek still hurts day after the fact.

She tried apologizing to you for the candy, because she could have warned you a bit better than just saying it's "sour".

You eventually do forgive her for the candy as you give her something involving vinegar in return.

You two go back and forth with this shinnegains for a little while before returning the usual programming.

She gave you another frog for any future misfits, but hey, this one is alive instead sealed in resin.

[thekreeseeffect]

Title: Definitely Obvious Word Count: 1,200-1,500 Pairings: Kreese x fem!reader, Johnny Lawrence x fem!reader (friendship) Warnings: Flirting, age difference, implied tension, light humor, slight power imbalance, Johnny's jealousy, suggestive dialogue.

The Cobra Kai dojo was nearly empty, save for the lingering scent of sweat and victory. The last of the students had filtered out after practice, but you remained, adjusting the wraps on your wrists while Lawrence leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“You’re seriously still here?” Johnny asked, his usual cocky smirk in place.

You shrugged, pretending to focus on fixing your wrist wraps. “Yeah, what’s the rush?”

Johnny rolled his eyes. He knew exactly why you were lingering.

Before he could tease you about it, the reason for your delay entered the room.

John Kreese.

Tall, imposing, with a confident stride that made even the toughest Cobra Kai students snap to attention. His sharp eyes scanned the dojo before settling on you.

“You’re still here, kid?” Kreese asked, his voice smooth but commanding.

You bit your lip—not helpful—and nodded. “Didn’t feel like heading home yet.”

Kreese stepped closer, arms folding over his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What, you like hanging around sweaty gyms in your free time?”

Johnny’s eyes darted between the two of you, already regretting his decision to stick around. He knew you had a thing for Kreese, and now, watching you openly flirt with the man, he was questioning everything.

You tilted your head, confidence bubbling in your chest. “Maybe I just like the company.”

Kreese chuckled, stepping even closer, just enough that your breath caught. “Is that so?”

Johnny visibly cringed. His face contorted into that look—the one where his lips curled in disgust, his eyebrows furrowed in absolute horror. Oh God, she’s actually doing it. She’s flirting with Kreese. OPENLY.

You glanced at Johnny out of the corner of your eye and nearly laughed at his expression. Kreese must’ve noticed too because he smirked, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Something wrong, Lawrence?” Kreese asked, not even looking at him.

Johnny shook his head, still making that face. “Nope. Nothing. Everything’s just…” He exhaled sharply. “This is fine.”

You shot Johnny a smug look before turning back to Kreese. “Well, since I’m already here… maybe you could show me some advanced techniques?”

Kreese’s smirk deepened. “You’re ambitious. But I like that.”

Johnny gagged. Actually gagged.

“That’s my cue to leave,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he walked toward the door. But before stepping out, he turned back, giving you one last horrified look. “You really need better taste.”

You just grinned as the door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Kreese.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[karatekels]

Would you consider writing more of Terry x Reader x John? 🙈 it‘s sooo good but there are barely any stories of it, and yours was perfection 😍

Something where she maybe is working across from the dojo, catching their eyes, both of them trying to court and get her attention in their unique ways, but she just cant decide 🙈

Of course I'd consider it! The real question is when will I get off my butt and actually write ANYTHING again?

Thank you very much btw, glad you liked Turtle Doves!

[terrence-silver]

Formally requesting a follow up to your married-to-his-high-school-sweetheart Twig story where he finally reunites stateside with his beloved. He gets a bit carried away in his need to convey just how much he's missed her? Maybe it gets a bit dark as he wants to possess her so deeply that no one questions their relationship again?

(You know me, there are really no boundaries on my end, so take this where you will!)

The story is a continuation / expansion of this post right here.

---

Momma Back Home Ran Out of Ink

Twig!Terry Silver x Reader

—

The limousine rushes from the airbase, his chauffeur hitting the 180 miles per hour mark.

He just about didn’t care who saw — who gawked — the image of him leaving in big style like this, his uniform the only thing lingering on him from the flight back home alongside the boxed in beige parcel on his lap — his luggage long since having been sent where he wanted it sent, meanwhile; all your letters, correspondence, pictures, perfumed paper, tokens collected from nearly three years overseas where with him. The first thing he asked for upon release to base and the one thing that stuck to him like a second skin after he was out of the cage was every bit of devotion showcased in written form; Terry Silver was only seventeen when he married you, before being deployed, technically needing parental consent to do so, and of course his old man fought the idea. Of course he waged war, of a different kind, at home, yelling and shouting until the walls practically shook, wagging his bejeweled finger and listing all the requirements of what a potential partner should be, what the acceptable age is, how life should be lived, our own kind of people being words dropped frequently, like a bomb, and Terry recalled that being his first bit of checkmate, telling his father that if he gave his consent he, like a good son, would compromise. He wouldn’t go off to the war and do something stupid and endanger his own future, like all the supposed lowlives did --- boys without prospects other than being live canon fodder were doing and the minute the signature was on paper and Terry had you secured and his, he left anyway.

He laughed then even as he was laughing now, into his own chin, all the way to the airfield.

That was then, his first ever victory.

And this was now.

And now? In the present? He needed you. He needed you badly.

Almost two years in the bush and there were nights where he’d secretly slide his hand into his green fatigues while laying in the sack during patrols, the scented envelope your letters arrived in pushed into his boxers and wrapped around his cock as he rubbed it on the tender flesh there, up and down, envisioning your fingers and lips wrapped around him instead, not minding the chafing sensation of paper on his skin. Quite the opposite; he found the slight discomfort exhilarating, cumming against the material and the itching sensation of pain, holding back groans, stashing the soaked, stained remains away and saving them for later like a lucky charm. Thing is, most of those punks never believed he was married back home in the first place, the same way his father never thought he had the guts to go against his word. Terry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way, because it meant none of them would ever ask for your picture, never ask about you, never hassle him, never even contemplate you, convinced you were a fragment of his imagination or he despised it for being doubted. Looked down on. Underestimated. It was poetic justice when one of them would rip your newly arrived letter from his hand, jumping around like a rabid ape, giggling and reading your words aloud to everyone only to step on a landmine a week from then, losing the very leg they were jumping on in a state of mockery. Momma back home ran out of ink, they’d call it, whenever the letters were late. Somehow delayed. When they were on time, they’d say momma was diligent, writing to her son as per schedule, prodding and poking at him; it was this running gag, that his mother was posing as wife to make him look good out here, in front of the boys.

Those were the nights he wanted to kill.

Simultaneously the nights when he’d squeeze the collected envelopes of your letters harder.

Tighter. The pace vigorous and angry. Desperate.

Scrunching them around his dick until he could feel himself bleed.

-"So, married man, huh?"-

John Kreese remarked on one occasion, sitting beside him in the busy canteen, giving him a broad smile, seemingly eager and warm, the type someone gives you when they’re honest — genuine — regardless, Terry instinctively braced for more mockery, having been used to it by now. Desensitized in ways. Kreese fished into his pocket, lowering himself into the chair beside him, pulling out a photo of his own, tapping him on the back with a big, heavy hand with a gesture sudden and firm enough to be felt in Terry’s spine, John being almost twice his size where muscle mass was concerned. -"Right on!"- A sense of congratulation in his voice and Terry remembered sitting there, surprised. The picture offered to him. A girl. An introduction. Like they were equals. Two brothers. Not even his own father gave him such a welcome sensation after he’s gotten hitched; quite the contrary. He’s threatened to disown and disinherit him. Which he would’ve done too if he simply he had in who’s favor to disown and disinherit him. -"This is my Betsy. My Pasadena girl."- John explained with a twinge of visible, twinkling pride and Terry held that photo between shaking fingers, feeling his own mouth partially fall agape. Acceptance? This was acceptance, wasn’t it? A way of saying ‘I believe you, friend’. All the more reason then, for him to rush home now, in John’s name, in his own, and fuck you, on the foundation of everything that he lived through in Vietnam. The news that Betsy died. That you, on the other hand, were alive and well, and that he should push himself inside of you so deep you feel him in your bloodstream, precisely because you weren’t taken from him. That Captain Turner wasn’t announcing that you were the one who wasn’t alive anymore, during that fateful night when the bamboo cage sprung open and they were handpicked and led outside.

The car comes to a sudden halt and you’re already on the front porch, eagerly waving.

Waiting for him, having got his call, hour, date and all.

His cock twitches in his trousers at the sight of you as he rushes out, slamming the door behind him.

-"Terry! Sweetheart! Baby!"- 

Your arms open towards him, he doesn’t even know when he’s managed to cross the street that separated the parked vehicle from your house by a narrow road, but it’s one of those things a man does in a trance, he supposed. Instinctually. Naturally. The body didn’t need reminds to breathe at night, while it was asleep. Organs didn’t give out while he was dreaming. Having nightmares. Thinking of you. They’d just seamlessly continued to do their own thing, without reminders needed. He figured it was the case now. Terry ran to you because nothing in the world could’ve made more sense. Your soft hands encircle his face, holding his cheeks, gaze scrutinizing every feature riddled with the sheen of warm tears. You speak, exasperated, and he’s heard your voice before. In the sound or rifles. Gunfire. The rare quietude of the night. Nothing beat hearing it live, like piecing together a puzzle from memory. -"Terry, you’re here!"- You speak through gasps, like you couldn’t believe the sight of him. He changed. He was aware he changed. Internally. Externally. In every way possible. The widening of your eyes testifying as to how much exactly. He supposed he did it for himself. For you. For all the people who ever doubted him to the degree they’d fail to imagine him a married man because they couldn’t reconcile he had it in him, leading him to go to Korea after the war and take even more time away from you — make that ultimate sacrifice of discipline and willpower if it only meant how he’d look the part of everything he started being convinced he could be. -"Let me look at you!"- Your stare riddled with happy tears travels up and down his uniform in shock once you release yourself from an embrace he’s reluctant to break — allowing you only so much breathing space, backing you further away from the front yard, the lawn and further up the porch, causing you to walk backwards. Too happy to notice it too. Terry wasn’t looking at his surroundings. He was only looking at you. At this point, a car could’ve pulled up from the roadside and he swears he could’ve stopped it with desire and power of tenacity alone for daring to interrupt him. -"I swear, you got taller somehow! They've been feeding you good out there!"- You chuckle out, trying to alleviate the situation, observing his head and reaching back, finding a wisp of hair tied at the nape of his neck, tenderly tugging at the strands, needing to stand propped up on your toes to even touch him.

Quite the contrary to your endearing, adorable statement; you couldn't even imagine half of the things he was forced to eat 'out there', as you put it so poetically.

He grins at the fact.

He'd much prefer eating you, though. Right now.

 -"This is new too. I like it!"-

You remark, a smile revealing a row of teeth behind a pleased lip, eying his locks.

 -"It’s just like you described it!"-

You add, twirling a curl of hair around your finger and he unwittingly thinks of Ponytail. From his letters, you assumed the tied, long hair was simply a fashion choice, but Terry doesn’t allow himself time to fall behind any longer and get distracted by explanations, hoisting you up without warning, there and then on the sidewalk and lifting your body up, towards his shoulder, eliciting a jolted cry of surprise from you as he balances you by grabbing unto the back of your hips, right beneath your buttocks. He doesn't linger. Ponytail wouldn’t want him to linger either, in fact. Ponytail would want him to fuck your brains out right about now, regardless of the fact that he frequently believed getting married at seventeen is either some Redneck nonsense or Waspy nonsense, never anything in between. You either had to be trailer park destitute or richer than God to be pulling things like that, he'd theorize. Terry nearly cackles at the idea, beaming at the recollection. -"You like it, huh?"- He remarks with a contented hum, sauntering in wide strides towards the house, practically carrying your body forward, his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, feeling the tender skin there through the fabric of your clothes and underwear. It takes a cosmic amount of self-control not to throw you against the front porch wall and screw you right against it, in view of the entire street, letting everyone who accidentally caught ahold of the sight that you’re his. That he did it. That it was his fucking right to do this. You were his wife and he was consummating his marriage. 

The front door slams shut behind him.

He puts you down, cornering you against the nearby wall.

When the buttons of your blouse snap scattering across the floorboard, with each rolling and tumble of the fasteners disappearing under chairs, tables and cupboards like so many ants, Captain Turner’s voice echoes through his mind.

-"So help me God, you got us into this shit, and you’ll pay for it."-

His grimace flashes before Terry’s eyes, obscured by the shadows of the canopy.

His fingers unbuckle his belt like they had a mind of their own, seeking your warmth.

Your cunt hidden underneath layers of fabric.

 -"I’ll make you pay for it, kid."-

His familiar voice repeats and rumbles inside of his brain and Terry isn't certain what way he'd rather fuck you, trying to quell the noise inside of his head, yet simultaneously embracing it gladly, hoping that in some weird way, everyone he was intrusively remembering could hear him. See what he was doing right now. That they were witness to it, as they should've been, as he was getting ready to claim you and preform for each and every one of them, including you, purely so they'd all understand this was real. This was his wife. He was having her. A big collective 'screw you' to the very lot of them --- every doubter in his life so far. He grabs you underneath your hips, effectively lifting you up and spreading you, up against the wall. Thank fuck for the practicality sundresses, because your whole wetness falls open like the most delicious treat inside of a wending machine, the scent of you salty and pungent. Delectable. Soaked and obscured by the thin fabric of your panties. He could see exactly where you were split. Yearning for him. It's child's play to dig into the material and rip it open right in the middle, exposing you for him. You shriek. -"Those bozos out there will seem like a kitten in comparison and by the time they walk through to get you, you’ll beg them to finish you."- His commanding officer had the tendency of saying, moving as close as the tightly confined space of their shared cage allowed back, believing in equal measure retribution as he threatened him, even though Terry knew it was more than a threat --- it was a promise. The buzzing sound of his radio station alerted the enemy to their position out in the wild, endangering the whole platoon and the only reasonable conclusion was for the unit to take the matters of justice into their own hands and ensure clumsy little Twig pays dearly for his negligence. Code Red. Extra judicial punishment. The idea that he isn't safe outside of the cage as much as inside of it. That his own compatriots would make him suffer as much as the Gooks would've and that it would've been John and him against all of them. But, he was here. He was alive. He was devouring you.

-"That little missy of yours? Swear on my heart and hope to die, you ain't never seeing her again except in the front pews while they put to rest whatever's left to ship home of you of you and your ass."-

Turner threatened in his thoughts and you moan, lashed with velvety hot licks.

Hips bucking against Terry's mouth.

The thought of seeing you again was the chief reasons why he felt he survived.

To have someone tell him even that will be taken away from him?

He wondered how he stayed sane. If he was sane at all.

Sane? What was sane anymore?

-"I still own whatever's left of you and your ass."-

The words come out of his mouth of his own volition, repeating lines he's heard before, halfway paying homage, halfway mocking his commander's statement. Lines address for him initially. Reframing them. Causing you to moan from above him once his mouth separates from the slick moisture of your pussy. -"When I'm done."- He adds, once he catches his breath, letting you slide down against the surface of the wall right back into his embrace, not giving you too little or too much pleasure, rather just enough to make you suffer. You huff, breathless, hair falling over your forehead shiny with sweat, mouth partially open in delight, partially on the precipice of inhaling oxygen, like you were on the verge of saying something while he was feverishly massaging your slit with the tip of his cock, easing himself in. He's grown in every way he could. Even his cock would need time to re-adjust to your cunt. But, he knew you'd like that. You'd like that very much. He would too. -"I know this isn't the right time, Terry, but your dad --- he's called and called and called. Almost every day. I just think you should know. Even before we were told you were MIA."- You practically gasp your words once he's inside of you, rocking back and forth --- there was something very amusing, remising about family mid-sex, but admittedly, he barely gave you time to properly greet him after such a long time being away and so much shit he had to get through to merely come back alive, practically hoisting you up and carrying you inside, never even giving you time to say too much. -"And what did you tell him?"- Terry practically purrs, inhaling the scent of your neck. -"What did my hole tell him?"- He corrects himself, allowing himself to laugh. So? The old man did maintain some contact with the only daughter-in-law he'd ever get. He promised Terry he'd never utter a single word directed your way. Clearly, it was a short lived promise. The same way the threat that pa' would disown him if he went to 'Nam was. Funny how people tended to capitulate in strange ways when faced with someone who took the matter of agency into their own hands.

His father told him to leave the whole Karate-Vietnam business behind too.

And then he went and bought John his first dojo, as a gift.

What was the old man gonna do about it?

Get angry twice?

-"I told him the same thing every time."-

You mutter into his ear with what sounded like infinite tenderness.

Gentleness peppered with the shadow of desire.

-"That deep down, against all odds, I know you're okay."-

Terry looks at you then, separating himself from the precipice of your throat riddled with kisses that he was certain would bruise red by tomorrow, You knew he'd be okay. You knew? You told his father that? Even if he wasn't okay and had to come home in bits and pieces he'd drag himself back tooth and nail. John wouldn't let him fall behind. He'd carry him out there on his back and Terry knew that much. That's why you and him were the two most valuable people in his life. His best friend and the woman who deserved to live inside a returning soldier's locket forever as a memento. Still inside of you, Terry takes a second to tilt his head and smile. He's been doing a lot of that lately. The palm of his hand pressed against your cheek. If anything, you killed his father with kindness, believing in him when nobody else did and keeping the faith of his return even in the face of adversity. If anything, you showed your complete and utter quality. Your devotion. The very idea nearly made him salivate. The things he wanted to do to you bypassed imagination and description right about now, but Terry starts with the practical aspects of it all, grabbing the elastic lace holding the two cups of your exposed brassiere and tugging at it hard enough to allow the ribbon to snap, coming undone, exposing your chest, allowing the top to slide down, limp, lacking support. You gasp. He's had waking dreams about your tits. Imagine them every time he set his head down on any makeshift surface that could double as a pillow. But, now? He finally had the real deal, reaching out, and kneading with both hands. -"It's good my little robot's been so diligently answering the phone and taking care of correspondence."- He praises, tugging at your firm nipples --- one and then the other, listening to your breath hitch at the contact. What conversation happened happened; now that he's home he'd make use of the marital bedroom the right, proper way, holding nothing back. After all, you and him had all the time in the world now. Terry's arms envelop your waist, dragging you forward with him, down the corridor, never taking his eyes off of you. Your color drains from your face once he speaks and he didn't blame you. In fact, all of this was deliberate. He didn't know if he meant his words figuratively or literally anymore.

-"Considering this is only just the start and we're not leaving that room until you're wrecked and dead."-

Terry hums with deliberate provocation and lulling self-satisfaction.

Trapping you in an embrace, stripping pieces of clothes from you and himself.

Or rather, ripping --- slamming the bedroom door once you were inside.

Leaving the abject chaos of the foyer floor behind.

[sensei-venus]

Haven’t had a good taste of Kreese smut in a hot minute.

It’s always a delight to see some good old slutting out for our boy Kreese😈🥵✨😏

No Time For ‘What If’s?’*

Word Count: 5,096

Status: Requested!

Ask: can I get a SFW/NSFW whatever. Cobra Kai John Kreese x f! reader student (who’s 20+ and not in highschool) who sometimes looks at him a certain way but always looks depressed and Kreese took notice… {There’s more, but I’m not giving away all the goodies}

@: @harlequinautumn​

Summary: I decided to make this somewhat of a song inspired prompt. This is based off of the song “Daddy Issues” by The Neighborhood. I think you can see where this us going…

Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut, dd/lg type of energy, age-gap, master/sensei/daddy kink, teacher/student kink, READER is in her 20′s, self-consciousness, self-hate, uncomfortable with body issues, appearance, etc.

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist Cobra Kai Masterlist

{Gifs are not mine, credits go to @sensei-venus & @danlarussc​}

Had to put this last gif here because GRAND DADDY…

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