UGH DECADES ▸ EIGHTIES IMAGINES

i. heaver

You had grown up with hockey after your brother had practically drilled it into your head. Derek was a great brother nonetheless, he just was very invested in the sport he played. Nothing was wrong with that, it was what he did with his team after games. Which was where you were now, next to your brother at a bar you had no clue what the name was. that did happen often, they would go to a random bar and all get drunk off of their asses.

"Y/N, would you mind moving down by Heaver ?" you sigh but stand up anyways and walk over to the French boy you had spoken no more than 5 words to. He stands up, pushing his chair back with his legs.

"Have my seat," he motions for you to sit down while he grabs another chair from the table behind you. Derek calls for a round of tequila.

"So glad we are going to get out of this hick town. Thank god there is still a sport for middle age white boy," he toasts and all the boys clink their glasses together.... well all but Dean who was a little slow. You put your drink out to him and you clink your glass with him making your Heaver smile at you. 

Almost 30 minutes later, Derek had brought over two girls and played a prank on one of them which involved dentures of one of the teammates in her drink. That was just the start of people getting drunk.

You had downed at least 3 shots and Heaver had practically doubled that amount.

"Heaver, can i ask you something?" you slur a bit.

"Yeah," he says.

"Where were you born?" he laughs.

"Canada, but i speak French and English," he tells you. By now, a few of the other boy were hammered. Somebody at the other end of the table fell backwards in their chair, but you were too invested in your conversation with Heaver you didn't care.

A couple of drinks later and you were officially drunk. You had never laughed so hard at the stupidest things ever, but heaver was making you laugh so hard your abs hurt.

"I can't breathe," you lean onto his chest and giggle.

"It's easy, bring air in and push it out," he slurs.

"i know dummy," you tap his nose. "i'm just laughing really hard," you giggle again before looking at his face. "your eyes are really pretty," you say making him blush.

"t-t-thanks," he says, his eyes going between your eyes and your lips. You two start to lean in before you jump apart at the sound of your brothers voice.

"i may be drunk as fuck, but hands of my sister," he says. that was the end of what fun you had with the drunken hockey player.

A few weeks later it was a big game. It was the first one without your bother in it after he had almost died on the ice. That brought you and Heaver closer together and by closer you mean physically and relationship wise.

You watched as Heaver took his place at the goal and the game started, but you tuned out most it because you wanted to get to the fight. You wanted revenge for what happened to your brother and revenge is what he got. Racki was finally taken down by Dean. You ran down to the locker rooms and into the room. You jumped into Heaver's arms.

"You won!" you say and he smiles.

"We did," he laughs.

"You know what else you won?" he looks confused.

"what?"

"this?" you lean in and smash your lips against his making the boys around him cheer.

"Hey," you part away from the boy and look at your brother. "you hurt her and i'll slit your throat with your own ice skate," he warns.

"i wouldn't hurt her," he says.

"besides, i can handle myself," you say. "i guess i have to with you."