nhl imagines

top gun mistakes, johnny beecher

He made a mistake.

When Top Gun first came out you two went to go see it together. He was slightly skeptical about how badly you wanted to see it, but he didn't think too much about it. He probably should of though. You mostly like romcoms with an occasional action movie, but this time you demanded that you guys saw it as soon as it came out.

He fully understood why you wanted to see it when he looked over at you and he noticed a familiar look on your face. His gaze when back and forth from your face and to the screen. You were giving Miles Teller the same look that you gave him. He couldn't believe this. His girlfriend was in love with Miles Teller. 

He made another mistake when caving in to take you to see it again. He was sure that you had seen it multiple other times with your girlfriends, but you wanted to see it with him again.

Driving on the way back home, you played all of the songs in the car and sang every lyric. Johnny just stared at the road ahead of him, blankly. He made a mistake and now his life was going to be consumed by Top Gun for the next couple of weeks.

He didn't care about your obsession until it affected him and his beard. He was doing his nighttime routine when you appeared behind him like a serial killer. He jumped, "Fuck, Y/N, that was creepy as hell."

You smiled at him apologetically and propped your chin on his shoulder. You both stared into the mirror, you smiling at him and him doing his own thing.

"What do you want?" He asked you a couple of moments later.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?" You asked innocently.

He narrowed his eyes at you in the mirror, "You're being really sweet to me and it's weird, so what do you want?"

You scoffed, "I'm always sweet to you, J."

"You are, but right now you are being unusually sweet."

"Am I like a bitch to you and I don't even realize it?"

He shook his head, a small smile on his face, "No baby, I promise you're not a bitch, but you do want something. I can tell, so cut the shit and ask me."

You blushed, he knew you too well. "Fine," You slowly brought up the hand that you were hiding and showed him what you were holding.

He looked at the razor in your hand and he already knew. "No."

"Yes."

"No," He rubbed his scruff that he had grown too attached to and he didn't want to shave off.

"Why not?" You pouted bringing the full puppy dog eyes and pouty lips out.

"I like my beard," He frowned.

"You will have some of it left over," You pointed out.

"I knew I would regret seeing that movie again," He mumbled to himself.

"Please baby," You begged. "For me."

He thought about it for a second, "What if I looked weird?"

"I know you won't, but if you do, we can shave it all off."

He grimaced rubbing his beard again, thinking of all of the good times they had together.

"It will grow back eventually, Johnny," You reminded him as he looked like he was about to cry.

"What if I look like a pedo?" He thought out loud. "Would you still date me then?"

You rolled your eyes at him stalling, "You're not going to look like a pedo."

"How do you know?!" He exclaimed.

You groaned and put his razor down, "Nevermind," You dramatically walked out of the bathroom.

"Y/N, I never said I wouldn't do it. I just don't want to look like a pedo!"

You had selective hearing, "So you'll do it?" You hopefully asked him.

He rolled his eyes but softly nodded his head.

You smiled and clapped your hands. "Do you want me to do it or should I?"

He immediately shook his head, "No, I'll do it. I don't think you and a razor near my face is a good idea."

You nodded because you understood where he came from.

"Okay," You chirped and sat down on the floor while you watched in awe as he turned into the hottest man alive.