Johnny Depp Imagines

The last thing you remembered before you went under was pain and bleeding. The rushing of the nurses to stabilize you. The panicked voice of your husband.

Your pregnancy was good, no glaringly obvious issues, or at least that's what your doctor told you.

You drowsily blinked awake, unaware at how much time had passed, before quickly shutting your eyes again due to the harsh florescence. A subtle squeeze on your hand pulled your eyes open again, and you heard a click of the call button.

"Hey.. Hey, honey, shh shh, it's okay. Save your strength. The nurse will be here in a second." A raspy voice called to you, which you quickly recognized as your husband.

Opening your eyes again, you found that the lights had been dimmed, and you were met with Johnny's chocolate brown eyes. "What happened?" You asked, voice hoarse. You tried to clear it, but Johnny gently forced a straw into your lips. When you sucked, cool water flooded your throat and soothed an invisible ache.

"You almost died, baby." He replied, exhaling a shuddering breath. "You were bleeding so much, and they didn't know if they could save both of you." He explained.

"Could they?" You asked, feeling the weight of your question. You were clearly alive— maybe a little worse for wear, but your heart was beating and your lungs were breathing.

"No."

That one word felt like it changed the entire trajetectory of your life. Your baby that you'd spent 9 months growing, the baby that Johnny had cried over when he found out about, the baby you two had so lovingly built a nursery for. And it was all gone.

Tears were slipping down your cheeks as a nurse came in to check your vitals, as well as explain the medical side of what happened. But you didn't care. All you cared about was that your baby was dead, and you were alive.

"I know, sweetheart.." Johnny whispered, trying to be soothing even as he was breaking apart, his eyes watering up in a way that matched yours.

"They're gone.." You whispered, voice breaking apart with grief. You knew you were just stating the obvious, but it felt like all you could muster.

"I know, sweetheart." He replied again, burying his face in your hair. "I was so scared, love. But I couldn't lose you. Never. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I wanted our little baby so bad." He cried, pressing desperate kisses onto the crown of your head as he stroked your cheek, as if he needed something real and tangible to hold on to.

You just held each other for what seemed like hours— when in reality it was just several long minutes. Breathing eachother in, breaking together, sharing the grief where your child should've been.

"We'll try again?" You asked, finally looking up to meet his eyes. You needed that reassurance that this wasn't the end.

He nodded, wiping the tears from your face. "Yeah, we will, sweetheart. Once you heal and feel ready.. We can try again." He reassured, grabbing your hands again and squeezing. He pressed a warm kiss to your forehead, before leaning his own against yours.

That was enough for you right now. The promise alone gave you enough strength to keep going. You and Johnny would find a new normal— even if it took months.

| 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝐀/𝐍 I apologize to the anon who requested this, because this has been sitting in my drafts for close to 2 years. Oops. Also I had a different ending that was way better, but Tumblr deleted it, and I don't remember it so I'll just kill myself.

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You walked into the room, bright lights and loud music immediately flooding your senses. You spotted your friend from across the room, the one who invited you here in the first place.

"(Y/N), you made it! Come on, we'll go get you a drink. There's a lot of smokin' guys here tonight." She teased, smirking at you as she grabbed your arm and pulled you over to the bar.

Her name was Sabrina, she had long blonde curls and blue eyes that could make any guy melt. Yet, she seemed more concerned about your love life, or lack thereof.

"Sabrina, I told you, if it happens, it happens. I don't need to rush into anything, what with my busy schedule and not." You replied, rolling your eyes halfway. You ordered a vodka with sprite from the bar, something refreshing but with enough buzz to help you with networking.

"Okay, but this party is exclusive, imagine all the kinds of guys here!" She was giddy, an infectious smile playing on her velvety pink lips.

You sighed with exasperation. "Okay, how about we make a deal? I'll flirt with a guy to appease you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take them home. Okay?" You compromised, taking a sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the vodka down your throat.

"Party pooper." She teased, flicking her tongue out at you, but ultimately nodded and headed off to do.. whatever she did. Honestly, she just seemed to disappear and reappear on a whim at parties like this.

You sat on a stool next to the bar, just scoping out the people. It all seemed like, no offense to them, but the same boring people you'd seen a thousand times. Guys who were way too cocky with their dates, and girls who were desperate for some attention, all grinding against each other and hands wandering.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the movement of someone sitting on the stool next to you, and you turned to look. It was a man, no older than mid-twenties, with fluffed up brown hair, brown eyes, and the sharpest cheekbones you'd seen in a hot minute. He seemed like the rough and ragged type, wearing a black leather jacket and jeans.

"You make it a habit of staring at strangers, sweetheart?" The man asked with an amused expression, clearly catching you deep in your analysis of him.

You blushed a bit in reply, more embarrassed than anything. "No, but maybe I'll make a point at staring at you now?" You suggested. Did that count as flirting? Of course it did, anything could count as flirting if you said it sensually enough.

That seemed to get a small laugh out of him, and he offered his hand to you. "My name's Johnny, Johnny Depp." He said. "I'm an actor, if that matters." He added a bit shyly after.

"(Y/N) (L/N), a model, if that matters." You replied, offering your own name and throwing his little comment back at him in a teasing manner. His handshake was surprisingly firm, and the first thing you noticed was the contrast of his cool rings brushing against your skin.

"I'd ask if you come here often, but I can tell you don't. I'd also offer to buy you a drink, but you seemed to have already helped yourself." He chuckled, nodding his hand and your glass, which you took another sip out of.

"I could be persuaded to agree to a drink from you, Mr. Depp." You smirked, flashing your own flirty glance at him.

"How about you finish that up, and I'll take you out on the dance floor?" He suggested. "Be warned, my dancing skills are out of this world, or so I've been told." He joked.

"Better not disappoint me." You said, taking the last few sips of your drink, before taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

—

His dancing skills were absolutely horrid, this man clearly had two left feet, but it was endearing and it made you laugh. "You know, whoever told you that you were a good dancer lied to you." You laughed softly.

"Darling, the only person who's ever said my dancing skills were good was my own mother, circa 11 years old." He shouted over the loud music, before pulling you in by your waist.

His hands stayed respectful, unlike the men around him, staying firmly on your waist and not wandering under your short white dress. "But this? This I can do." He whispered into your ear, as you put your hands on his shoulders.

The DJ started playing some slower, more sensual music, but he just carried on talking and joking like it didn't phase him. "You know, any other guy would be pouncing on me by now." You hummed with a soft giggle, feeling the alcohol get to your head a bit.

"Would you like me to pounce on you?" He chuckled. "Because if that's what you want.. well how could I help myself?" He flirted, dipping you slightly, causing you to grab on harder to him, as if he would drop you.

"Cheeky. But no." You rejected, although you weren't entirely against the idea of him. You just weren't the type of girl who would put out on the first date, you kept your standards high and your clothes on. "But maybe if you're real nice, I'll kiss you before the end of this song." You teased, looking up into his brown eyes, darkened by the low lighting in the room.

"I wouldn't say no." He answered, before standing you up straight. "But I'd like to think I have a bit more dignity than that." He chuckled, looking down at you, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. "Tell me a few things about yourself. You know, like when you were in school and your teacher had you fill out those 'get to know me' sheets." He joked, although he was entirely serious in his sentiment of wanting to get to know you.

You playfully scoffed, before thinking for a moment. "What's there to say? I'm 22, a model. I like the simple things in life, a good book, a glass of wine. But I'm partial to glitter and making a fuss." You smirked up at him.

He huffed in reply. "You seem like the type to make a fuss. A damn minx." He laughed. "Completely magnetic."

You blushed again, but this time because he was giving you butterflies. "Now you tell me something about you."

He hummed and pretending to think, tapping his finger on his chin as he stared off, like a genius coming up with his next theory. "Well. I'm 26, an actor. I play the guitar, and really that was my first love, but I ended up in Hollywood." He chuckled before continuing. "And I like a good glass of whiskey and doing the best work that I can."

The song that had been playing in the background came to a close, and you thought 'fuck it', and put your hands on either side of his jawline, before leaning upwards and pressing your lips to his.

He didn't hesitant, but he didn't push either, letting you take control of the movements, although his hand slid in your hair.

"What was that for?" He smirked, looking down at you once you pulled away to breathe.

"I did say I would give you a kiss at the end of that song, did I not?" You teased, full grinning, actually enjoying his company. It was certainly not what you expected when you walked into this party tonight.

"That you did." He answered, tilting his head. "But you're also drunk." He huffed with a smile.

"Not that much." You defended, furrowing your eyebrows and pouting your bottom lip slightly.

"You're wobbling." He replied. "Why don't I help you track down your friend, and if neither of you are sober, I'll at least get you an uber home?" He suggested, and you nodded. You had to admit that this was enough socialization for tonight, and your bed sounded particularly desirable right now.

Like you suspected, you and him didn't find Sabrina. But he took you out to the lobby and ordered you an uber. He walked you out when it arrived, making sure you got there safely.

"Take care, alright?" He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple, before sliding napkin into your purse as you got into the car.

'Call me. 323-xxx-xxxx. JD x' Scrawled in messy handwriting and a black marker.