The Mighty Ducks Imagines

Party In the Penalty Box

They made their decision. It's a stupid-ass decision, but here we are, on our way to the box. We can't seriously have 3 players in the box at the same time.

"Are you kidding? We were just playing the game! Come on ref! Are you serious?" We yell as a ref leads us to the penalty box.

Myself, Dean and Fulton were having the best time. Checking everyone and riling up the crowd. We bashed a couple guys against the boards at the same time. When they were on the ground, we went back for seconds to make sure they stayed down. Apparently, we took it too far.

Our retaliation does nothing. The ref opens the door to the penalty box and we reluctantly walk in. Throwing our sticks to the side, we continue to drive the crowd wild. Eventually, we take our seats and remove our helmets and gloves as they resume play. Dean to my left, Fulton to my right.

"What kind of rookie call was that?" I grunt as I land on the box's bench.

"Makes me wanna burn this place to the ground." Dean huffs.

"Bit dramatic, Portman." Fulton looks at him.

"You know what you could play if you did?" They look at me, confused. "Don't you know that everything's on fire!" I start singing.

The boys laugh and sigh simultaneously before joining me. Pretty quickly, the three of us are singing along. Bet they've never seen that from the penalty box before. As pissed as I am to be in the box, I have to keep the guys in line. Might as well have some fun. Maybe 15 seconds after resuming play, the whistle blows. As people wait for the medics to finish looking at someone's wrist, Adam skates over to the box and interrupts our song.

"What's wrong with you guys?"

"Shut it, cake-eater!" I glare at him. Adams laughs as he skates into position.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted" Fulton sighs, resting his head on my shoulder.

I briefly run my fingers through his hair and plant a kiss on his head. I can tell Portman is looking at us, so I tell him:

"I have another shoulder, you know, Dean."

He quickly mimics Fulton, leaving me with heads on both shoulders.
If we weren't in the box, we may just fall asleep - wouldn't be the first time.

"We should go out tonight." Dean says as our 2 minutes in the box continues.

"What you wanna do?" I ask.

"Pizza and ice cream?" Fulton suggests.

As we agree, the crowd starts singing "we will quack you". This prompts us to get up and get our heads back in the game so we know what to do when time is up. Once again, we break into song - getting hyped to be back on the ice. It's a party in the penalty box. With 15 seconds left before our penalty time is up, I say:

"Grab your gear, boys!"

We quickly put on our helmets and gloves and grab our sticks before jumping back into the game. Racing to position, Averman passes the puck to Dean. The puck then goes to Fulton and Dwayne.

"Hey, cowboy!" I call for the puck after checking a player.

"Fire it in there, Y/N!" He yells as the puck sails to me.

Without hesitation, I take my shot and score the goal. The Ducks fly over to me and celebrate as the crowd cheers. They start to head back to their positions. Dean and Fulton hang on a little longer.

"Yeah!"

"Let's go, bash babe!"

"Hey!" I stop them from skating away. "Let's earn that pizza!"

It's gonna be a good night.