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ambrozjas · 2 months

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johnny with a shy reader

johnny and ponyboy x shy!reader hc’s ꨄ︎

johnny cade x reader, ponyboy curtis x reader (separate)

✧˖*°࿐notes 🧸 ᰔᩚ

aaah!! loved this request!! i put my soul into these small blurbs 😭 i got two reqs for johnny and pony x shy reader so i just decided to kill two birds with one stone, yknow?

✧˖*°࿐warnings ᰔᩚ

mentions of scars in johnny’s, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ first off, JOHNNY is also a little shy and quiet so you two would legit probably be the quietest people in the room

❥ i feel like youd guys would be very in tune with each other though, like even with just one look, you guys could understand each other

❥ like i could just imagine you and johnny sitting next to each other, you fiddling with his hands when nobody’s paying attention to you two

❥ like you guys can just understand each other, no words needed??

❥ do you get what i mean 😭😭??

❥ that being said though, if needed, johnny will come to your aid

❥ like, if dally’s bothering you an awful ton or you’re getting picked on, he’d def stand up for you in his own little way

❥ you both are quiet but nothing gets better than the late night whispers of affection you two exchange

❥ LIKEE..???

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

“how come you ain’t talk much either, johnny?” you asked the boy in front of you, who lay on his side in your bed, gazing into your eyes with that kicked puppy dog look as usual.

you and johnny were never chatty, who needed words when you guys could just understand one another just by a blink?

everybody used to joke how you guys could communicate telepathically, but sometimes that thought didn’t seem so silly. it was like you guys were telepaths, and you could just read each others mind at any time.

but even with few words, you two didn’t get bored. it was at night when all the words came out. which is where you were now, tracing johnny’s scars with a gentle hand, nothing but love and admiration coating your touch.

he seemed to think for a moment, eyes darting around your face as if to memorize every feature of your face in case one day he’d never see it again.

“only words i seem to ‘ave are f’you,” he paused, taking a second to lick his slightly chapped lips, “feels like you the only person who actually hears me.” he confessed, looking back into your eyes and almost wincing, waiting for the blows that never come. he waited for the insults that would never dare leave your lips, but when you didn’t say anything, it almost made his nerves worse.

“johnny cade.” you said his name, eyes not leaving his face once. “yeah..?” he whispered, almost inaudible.

“i love you.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

❥ you and PONYBOY are literally so cute together

❥ ponyboy is somewhat more talkative than johnny, so he’d be able to make more conversation, even if it’s awkward

❥ but sometimes ponyboy is a bit oblivious , so you might need to be a little more forward with how youre feeling

❥ sodapop always teases you both with how shy you are with each other

❥ would be more direct with telling people off for teasing you with ill intentions though

❥ you guys saw how bold he was for spitting at bob 😭

❥ AND UGH JUST IMAGINE HIM READING TO YOUUU

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡

your head was in ponyboy’s lap as he read one of his favorite books to you, ‘great expectations’. he was mid sentence before you dozed off, his hand buried in your hair and gently rubbing at your scalp with his free hand.

“.. and the clocks all stopped together. an e..ep—épergne, or center piece of some kind was in the middle of this cloth.’ did i say that right?” he had asked you, unaware that you had already nodded off.

“hey? you there?” he asked, tilting his head forward a little bit to check on your face, before taking notice of your sleepy state.

“oh—! shit..” he whispered. his hand still caressed your head, a soothing mechanism so you wouldn’t wake up. he couldn’t help but look lovingly at you in your serene state, how did he end up with such a perfect partner?

he smiled softly, before readjusting the book in his hand and continuing to read, still scratching at your scalp with his right hand. he didn’t mind if his legs fell asleep, as long as you got some sleep was all that matters.

boy, was ponyboy whipped.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dkfkejddksk SORRY I HAVENT BEEN PUMPING OUT FICS THAT MUCH IVE BEEEN SOO BUSY WITH SCHOOLWORK !!

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

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jsuh · 1 year

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surfing in la🏄‍♂️🌊 we’re stoked guys😆 // jcc ep.35

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thedevilssaidgifs · 9 months

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Sledding is Fun! A Fine Day in Chicago❄️ with YT, DY, MK ｜ Johnny's Communication Center (JCC) Ep.37

#mark lee #nakamoto yuta #nct mark #nct yuta #johnnys communication center #johnny's communication center

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clarks-letterman · 5 days

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prison for life | johnny slaughter x gn!reader

a/n — I don't really like this lol, butttttt the low amount of Johnny content constitutes that the worst fics must be posted for the quantity

summary — Johnny got into a fight over you at the bar you own, and you patch him up.

words — 1.9k

warnings — mentions of blood and Johnny getting more scars. language

~~~

Watching people trickle out of the bar and onto the gravel pathway leading to your bar was always a treat—wishing them a safe travel home and a safer time searching for their keys while they laughed at the jokes the regulars heard every night and the newcomers would eventually get sick of. It’s what the final few minutes of any establishment should strive for. You got to be a part of the community from behind the bar, towel slung over one shoulder and the stream of a bottle flying over the next with the help of your many acquired flashy tricks. The final drink would be made just for you, by yourself. What wasn’t fun was watching them leave with shock and awe painted on their faces, the women ogling the man that just clobbered another out cold. The men with their spouses left in a hurry, both in fear of what happened moments before and nervousness that Johnny would snake his arm around those he stared at all night; his intentions for staring? Unclear. The line at which he would go from another bar patron to your champion of contest was equally so. Closing time should be that, but here you were, serving your last patron with alcohol that didn’t go anywhere near his mouth. It was for a scar on his shoulder…and for the nosebleed…and for his de-rooted tooth…and for the scar on his face. You would definitely need another drink after this.

Maybe two, just to see if Johnny was still alive. Still in the real world, if he was in it to begin with. His pain tolerance was uncomfortably high and he didn’t wince as much as you would in this situation. He proved it when he spoke, his voice low and gruff but still permeating through to the levity you were used to.

“Another scar to add to the collection.” He smirked, revealing the blood staining his teeth and wrinkling the blood that had dried on his skin just under his nose.

He could fight pretty well, but everyone has a center of gravity and the guys from the city possessed the knowledge to know how to tip him over like cattle. But Johnny actually did tip cattle, he was the one getting his hands dirty almost every day. He was used to meatheads. So in a quick motion of left-hooks and failed dodges, Johnny had the man on the floor within seconds.

“And another tooth lost.” You said, swishing around the one that was sitting at the bottom of an empty drinking glass. It rattled and clinked against the inside of the glass like someone dunked the body of a savior—your savior—in a stoup. While it was covered and stained with blood from the root it had been separated from, you could see between the red striping over it to notice the yellow staining—a trademark of bad hygiene. At certain angles, there seemed to be a black spot that was insidiously drilling into his tooth to rot it from the inside. “At least the cavity’s gone.”

“I got more of ‘em, though. Plenty, like shark teeth.” His smirk stretched into a wide grin, flashing his teeth in your direction. The gap between his teeth would have led you to believe he was missing something much bigger, but it was probably just your own head struggling to recognize it as a new feature on his face. It wasn’t like his fresh cuts that would turn to scars and eventually fade, no. Every time he smiled, smoked a cigarette, or bared his teeth to threaten someone, there would always be something missing now.

“I’ll count each row and if there aren’t fifty… Well, I know where one is. You want it?” Good thing there wasn’t anything missing in your relationship. He still bickered and didn’t lose his bite after the loss of one molar.

“Nah, just chuck it.” He didn’t want it to be more trouble than it was worth. It was his DNA—not yet incriminating for the time but it would be harder to identify him based on dental records, for the little paper trail he had left behind.

While he didn’t want to take home the proof that he didn’t walk away from the fight unscathed, he still won the fight. You tried to remind him of that, “Hey, you get to tell your family about the other guy when you get home. I think they will be pretty happy to hear that you’re okay. Minus one tooth.”

He laughed. This would be the part where he’d usually take a drink between pauses during the many conversations you shared with him before, his hand cupping at the air in a reflex before lightly knocking against the wooden bar with a flat palm. Almost in defeat; it was the same hand he had successfully tipped a cow down with one punch. “Sure… they’ll be real worried.”

You set the glass down as he tried picking one up, moving over to the first aid kit that was open and ripped apart from the inside, unpacking all of the quick medicinal fixes it had to offer. Johnny had a few cuts and you rushed to get it when the fight turned serious. Now that it had de-escalated: the man still on the floor with glass shards surrounding him, Johnny returning to the seat he’d been occupying at the bar all night, it made you feel a little overreactive to the situation.

Rounding the bar, you filled the space atop the empty brown stool next to Johnny. He leaned in your direction, brandishing his wounded shoulder with ease thanks to his sleeveless black tank. There was one deep cut heading straight for his bursa in the middle of his shoulder and a few lighter ones surrounding it that would only need to be cleaned and bandaged. The man didn’t speak and Johnny didn’t wince when you started patching him up. You were using vodka to treat his wounds, and a small glass of water to clean that after you wiped away the blood. The towel you usually had slung over your shoulder was now turning a deep red from its vibrant white, matted down with his blood. Lightly, you dabbed a little at his face, but he wouldn’t really turn to look in your direction. Once they were all clean, it was time to start on his dwelling laceration: you started on the right side and pierced the surface of his skin to lightly sew it back together. Johnny was a little squeamish to the feeling, but it started looking better towards the end. Too bad you couldn’t do the same for his tooth.

“Try not to move that arm so much or I’ll have to put another stitch in it.” You tried to get his mind onto something else and decided that being a pain in his ass would be better than letting his mind settle on the pain in his shoulder and face. You had two stitches or so left to do before you could tie off the thin thread. “C’mon, you can tell them about how you kicked that guy out!”

“He came at me with a glass after I asked him to leave. Not much of a story to tell.” Johnny sounded a bit unamused, like the work he did was conscientious to the liking of a law enforcer.

“That’s not how I remember it.” Johnny came up to the guy, commanding him to leave for the things he overheard. When he refused to leave, Johnny grabbed him by the arm with enough strength to lift him out of his seat. The man’s drink spilled out of his glass, and in an undefinable rage, he hit Johnny with the glass on his left shoulder—the same side as the arm he used to pull him away from his source of intoxication. You only caught wind of the last action, returning from the back office with a rack of clean drinking glasses that you let slip out of your grasp when you saw Johnny get hit. The noise caused him to turn to look at you, revealing the scar across his face from one of the shards of glass grazing his cheek from the impact on his shoulder to cut him up.

“Listen!” He snarled out, shooting up and pulling away from you. You just had to tie the knot at this point. “I woulda kept my cool but he—”

“I don’t pay you to keep your cool.” And you were right, he kind of just came in and occupied a seat in the bar. He would stare at people when they barked at you—his warm brown eyes hardening into dirt-colored pebbles and silica daggers, unseen but felt. Sometimes, these men would take it too far and he’d cause them to fall face-first into the dirt outside after a harsh eviction. What would Johnny do with this guy? You could probably drag him out of the place if you really tried, but Johnny could lift like he ate—big and hefty.

“You don’t pay me nothin’” But he was right, too. He wasn’t the typical image of security. He wasn’t big enough to block doors, he didn’t sit at the entrance, and he sure as hell didn’t care to card people walking in.

“Except in free drinks. Get a six-pack out of the cooler on your way out, you earned it. Just… don’t drink it ‘till you’re home?” There was a black refrigerator by the door with a glass panel taking up most of the hinged door in front of it. Of all the things to get broken in the fight, you wouldn’t expect a measly cup to go first.

Or for your heart to shatter, when Johnny asked with a little bit of surprise, “You worried about me?”

“About myself. I don’t have the strength or gall to take on the farmers around here.” You pulled on the string hanging from his shoulder, tying it into a knot. You decided in the brief moment between spoken words that Johnny would be fine without treating his face if it was only cleaned. “And you have to get that guy home—that’s your last job of the night. I’ll help you throw him into your pickup, yeah?”

“But he, he said things about you I didn’t like.” You turned to the first-aid kit, reaching in for the tiny pair of scissors to cut the extra thread. When you turned back, you spoke with intrigue.

“Like what?”

“I don’t want to think about it. He might not make it home safe if I do.” Johnny smirked, his eyes wandering off into his own fantasy for a moment at the things he could do to the man on the floor.

“Fine, I won’t pry.” You finished up stitching him, closing the book on the night’s chaos. Johnny got out of his stool, standing over the guy with both legs on either side of his unconscious body. He reached down and hoisted him up by the shoulders, being intentionally careless as he let his legs drag and hit against the table and chair legs on his way out. You got a six-pack for him—a Pearl beer, his favorite—and followed him out to his old Chevy. Johnny didn’t tear any of his stitchings when throwing the guy into the back of his truck, and the drunken bastard didn’t wake up to any of Johnny’s rough handlings. You said your goodbyes to him and wished the guy a safe and bumpy travel home, but he would never walk back into the bar again.

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yunogf · 1 year

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JAEHYUN in Johnny’s Communication Center (JCC) Ep. 35 | Surfing in LA🏄‍♂️🌊

#nctinc #jaehyunnet #jaehyun #mine*works #gifs*jaehyun #want him need him desire him etc #when he fell off the board just bc ckxjvkxbj #head too big threw him off balance #<3 #these r a mess but it is what it is #coloring was whack

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techtechonmymind · 1 year

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cloud gate (2004)

#video 🎥#nct #johnny’s communication center #jcc #ten ❤️#my neighbor johnny 🌃

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milllkaa · 6 months

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I need a fanfic about unrequited love, god. Please?!?!?

It doesn't matter who's in love, Johnny or Kenshi, both are painfully beautiful.

(Meanwhile, sorry for any mistakes that might have been made, I'm still learning English.)

Kenshi would hide his feelings to the last because friendship is more important to him. Because Johnny is more important to him. And it's excruciating to be in love with someone like Johnny. You know. Flirting instead as communication, frequent physical contact in the form of touching, hugging, the huge amount of attention what he gives you just because he likes you (platonically, as a person). And I think there are two ways of end - Kenshi will bury these feelings with him in the grave, OR in an attempt to get rid of the feelings he distance himself from Johnny, which he will certainly not like. They have a huge fight and Takahashi just gives up. Because of emotion, because of Johnny's lack of understanding, he would just scream it in his face as it was.

"Why are you avoiding me, Kenshi?! You in trouble?" "You're my trouble, Cage." "Are you fucking kidding me? Why?!" "Because I love you! Dumbass."

"...Oh."

God, Kenshi, baby, I'm sorry.

And Johnny? Oh, it's a one-man show. He's a narcissistic pretty boy that's used to being the center of attention (or is he just compensating for his childhood traumas that way?), used to getting what (who) he wants. But that's exactly the kind of situation where he would lose all his confidence. Fall in love with Kenshi? No way.

He's his best friend, the man who gave up his sight in exchange for his, Johnny's, life. He wouldn't be able to dump his "nobody wants" feelings on him. I'm sure he'd just pretend everything was the same, although he'd certainly become a little more obsessive. And he'd do something stupid at some point. Would he just kiss Kenshi out of the blue, or crash into his house drunk, not realizing what he was saying or doing?

reaches for a kiss "Johnny, you're drunk." "Yeah, and?" "That's what all drunk people do. You'll be sorry later"

"I'll never be sorry for kissing you, Kenshi."

Yes, I'm a terrible person. Yes, I like to watch other people suffer. Yes.

#mk1 #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnshi #mortal kombat #My desire to draw all that I have written ️️️️️↗️↗️↗️

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