Story cover for πŸ’ Johnny & Shannon - A Boys of Tommen Fanfic by Mary64678
πŸ’ Johnny & Shannon - A Boys of Tommen Fanfic
  • WpView
    Reads 15,757
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    Votes 83
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    Parts 24
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 32m
  • WpView
    Reads 15,757
  • WpVote
    Votes 83
  • WpPart
    Parts 24
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 32m
Complete, First published Jun 17
This is a continuation on my first fanfiction. 

They've survived rugby tackles, chaotic family dinners, and years of stolen glances across Tommen's halls - now Johnny and Shannon are engaged, and the real adventure begins.

Between planning a wedding, moving into their own flat (sort of), and navigating love, family, and friendship, the couple must figure out what it truly means to build a life together - one cup of tea, one sibling meltdown, and one burned dinner at a time.

With cameos from the full Tommen gang - Gibsie, Claire, Joey, Aoife, Hughie, and more - this is a story of heart, laughter, and finding home in the middle of all the madness.
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Rory Kavanagh. The best rugby player Tommen has ever seen-well, besides his da, obviously. Johnny Kavanagh. The Johnny Kavanagh. Our parents are basically joint at the hip, best mates since they were kids. And naturally, me and Rory just... became mates too. That's the deal. That's what we said we'd be. Friends. Right? Friends. But like-come on. Have you seen him? His abs? That man has a six-pack like he's sculpted from marble. His hair? Brown and silky, like-like a shampoo ad or somethin'. And those eyes? The kind of blue that makes you forget your own name. I swear to God, I'm not even being dramatic. So yeah... maybe I've a teeny, tiny, miniscule crush on him. Can you blame me? No. No, you can't. I won't hear it. But I'm not saying a thing. No way. What if he just laughs? That'd kill me. So for now, I'll just pretend I don't stare at him for longer than is normal when he talks. For now, it's just friendship. Grand. ...But what if he does feel the same? *** Bethany Gibson. Jaysus. She's been my best friend since we were in playschool, like actually since nappies. She's pure chaos-loud, mad, always in trouble for something-but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Not one thing. She's class. Gorgeous too. Not just like "oh she's grand," no-proper gorgeous. Her blonde curls bounce when she laughs, and I swear it's like the sun's just following her around. Her eyes? Silver. Like not even grey-silver, like a flipping fairy or something. Every time she looks at me, I forget what I was saying. Which is not ideal when you're trying to seem normal, right? I've fancied her since I was about seven. Maybe six. But what am I supposed to do? Tell her? What if she just laughs and goes, "Ah you're gas," and then pats me on the head like I'm some lost puppy? I'd actually evaporate from shame. But then again... what if she does like me back? What if all this time I was too scared to see it?
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