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#Johnny Girl
noisydelusionlove · 8 days
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I’m still a Ghost girl at heart but lately I’ve become a Soap girly and phew this side is fun but I love Ghoap because I love them together and AHHHHHH
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bi-writes · 1 month
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ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)
"wot?"
"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"
"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.
ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.
"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.
"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."
"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"
the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.
"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"
ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.
"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."
when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.
"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."
ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.
"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.
"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"
"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.
"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--
"i wasn't pretending. were you?"
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jelly-jillis · 3 months
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I am her
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bunnysnared · 5 months
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aye johnny give him a minute he's rebooting!!!!
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moondirti · 5 months
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featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range
hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.
who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.
fine by them.
so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.
isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.
the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.
by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.
of course the call has to come then.
in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.
and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.
rdv on base in a week.
he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.
regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!
promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.
they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.
they notice you as soon as they walk in.
sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.
as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.
simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.
"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"
that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.
something about that quirk just screams safe.
"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.
"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."
"please. after you." simon nods.
an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.
"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.
"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"
"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"
"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.
"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."
"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.
you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."
and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.
it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.
(with great tits.)
he'd be a fool to sabotage it.
johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."
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malansangisda · 9 months
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on the set of 'the passenger' (2023)
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charliemwrites · 8 months
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Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3
(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)
Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish
No Content Warnings
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It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.
But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.
Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)
A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.
“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.
You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.
“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”
“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.
He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.
On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.
You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.
When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.
“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.
You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.
“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.
“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”
“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”
You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.
It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.
On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.
The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”
You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.
On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.
“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.
“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.
“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”
Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”
God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?
“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.
Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”
“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”
“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.
You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.
“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.
Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.
The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.
Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.
Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.
You thought he was a fluke.
But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.
“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.
“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.
“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”
“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.
You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.
“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.
“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.
“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.
“Does Kyle have one?”
The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.
“Oh does he, lass.”
You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”
“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”
And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.
Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.
The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.
Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.
The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.
“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”
“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.
“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.
“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”
You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”
Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”
He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.
“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”
“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.
“‘Night, bonnie.”
You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.
He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.
“Mornin’,” he says.
“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.
“You’re up early,” he observes, following.
“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”
He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”
“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”
“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”
It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.
“Well, thank you. I loved them.”
“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”
Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”
“But what if I want to?”
And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.
“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.
“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”
He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.
“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”
“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”
“Dangerous woman.”
You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”
“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”
Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.
“…Do I even want to know?”
“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”
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tacticalanxiety · 7 months
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Psst, wanna drop that ugly towel? 👀
NSFW BELOW THE CUT - MDNI
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satoshy12 · 2 months
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It all started when Dani stole Johnny's bike. And Johnny got blamed by Danny for it.
And for Dani, she is now a cool biker girl. Riding through the cities and stuff. Kitty helped her to choose clothes… helped Dani to steal it, because Johnny showed more interest in the bike than in her.
And her boyfriend. Well, it looks cute how the good boy is now riding with his bad girl biker girlfriend.
Lois is not sure if she saw it right and asks Clark. And yes she saw her young Son, being driving by a young Girl on a motorbike... good.
"Now capture both, before they get hurt!"
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Honestly surprised I haven’t seen this done yet. Maybe I’m just late to the party whatever
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10bendog · 3 months
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HAPPY 20TH ANNIVERSARY CN CITY!!! <3
This was my favorite era from the channel's history and I needed to commemorate my love for it for this occasion. I wish we'd see the city bumpers return, updated with more characters from all the shows that have aired since, but until then, I'll be doing it myself.
Speaking of, stay tuned next week, because I have two more of these prepared to post for the rest of June.
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Here's also the full-scale drawings. It hurt a little to shrink and compress them on the city screenshot, so I'm posting them separately. :)
"This is Cartoon Network."
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His smile >>
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pookieislife · 5 months
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Going feral🥰
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stayinggoldforpony · 4 months
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the outsiders but instead of johnny murdering someone and him and pony having to run away they actually just sneak out for funsies and catch a train and end up in a new town and explore and realize there is life past greasers and socs and so they both work really hard and when they turn 18 they go explore the world together
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tb-png · 2 years
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Kissing n shit 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 🧼 ☠️
why is it so hard to draw people kissing lol, i draw so much ship art but i cant draw them kissing ever aaaaa
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new-employeeamillion · 5 months
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I’m not sure why end cards were so common in the old CN shows, but here’s most of them side-by-side.
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