If the Hockey industry had the ability to play favorites, Roman knew for a fact it was him. He knew there were so many things he shouldn't be allowed to get away with and yet, time and time again he did. Becoming an icon to kids and young teens, dragging fans from the opposing team to cheer for him, to come and see him dominating the ice rink and those around him.

His teammates may admit that majority of their fans were because of him, his personality just seemed to work on everyone of all ages. He would have music play whenever his team would skate out, getting the crowd to sing along with the chosen rap music that he would have them play as if it was their theme song. He would skate around, hyping up the crowd more and more before the actual game even began and by the end of the match, the whole stadium would be cheering for the Black Diamonds.

His aggressive personality on the ice also added to him being feared, one body-check from him seemed like life or death - being able to get up and skate it off or losing someone to a concussion and be a man short. Thus, many would move out of the way when they see his massive form coming their direction. Those who wanted to try and knock him down a peg? Down for the count before they could even think about changing their minds.

His team was unstoppable. He was fucking unstoppable. That is, until your team came around. A full women's hockey team. Who fucking wise idea was this? Call him what you want, he thought this was the dumbest thing anyone could arrange, not because he thought women couldn't take hockey, but that women couldn't take his team's hits. He was convinced they'd accidentally kill one of you from one body check alone.

He decided to be nice one day, the day your team and his were supposed to face off. He told his team to be easy, to play nicer, to even let your team have the first goal before they flawlessly took the win like it was any other Tuesday in the rink. Oh how heavily he underestimated all of you.

Your team gave as hard as they got. After letting your team get that first goal, he noticed something. He noticed it even more when your team scored a second - a change or maybe his eyes were open to the truth when he realized that your team was far more than he thought. Body checks after body checks, your team took them and gave them right back.

When one of your teammates was knocked down, her helmet clean off her head, she simply got back up within the next second. He watched as she chased off the teammate that struck her but then made a last minute decision and turned, going after another one of his teammates who actually had the puck and body checked him so hard the glass cracked behind them.

That's when he knew, your team was a problem. And he fucking loved every fucking second of it just as much as he absolutely hated your ass.

You were a whole different topic, a whole different challenge, the real pain in his ass beyond your teammates. You were the captain of the team, the one leading and instructing your army of sturdy women. You were always the center, facing off with him and that look in your eyes made his blood boil in anger and excitement. Win. Lose. Win. Lose. It was back and forth between your teams and the public fed off of it, constantly wanting to see which team would truly dominate the other.

Admittedly, however internally you might feel, Roman intimidated you. A lot. His size - 6'6 and built on pure muscle - was something to be wary of. You tried to stay clear of his hospital-level body checks but still held your ground for your team.

There was one thing about him that made you both excited and scared. It wasn't the fact he was bigger, or stronger, or even the fact that he had slightly more experience on the ice than you, but it was your first time catching him by surprise. Chasing him down for the puck as he had it in his control, because of your size, you were in his blind spot. He was focused on your teammate on the left and those in front, while you were making your way up on his left.

With a small signal that couldn't be seen by anyone, your teammate pulled back out of the way as your legs pushed you forward, your body colliding with his so hard that when he slammed into the glass screen, it shattered, sending him through to the other side into the crowd.

There were collective gasps, shocked words and a lot of 'holy shit', then the faint yell: 'you knocked my God damn baby!' from who you assumed was his mother, or well, grandmother.

In that moment you expected him to be pissed, to get ready to try and swing at you. You were ready if he did, as much as you hoped he didn't. But no, shockingly he didn't swing. You could hear him chuckle, not an amused chuckle but rather an impressed one, mixed with a hint of annoyance. Your eyes stayed on him as he lifted his head, combing some of his locs from his face, his tongue becoming visible for just a moment to lick his own blood off his lips.

Then he straightened up, reassuring his members that he was fine. His eyes never left you. There was a mixed sense of doom and thrill that came from that moment, knowing he had his eyes set on you and you now had to watch your back a little more closely.

'You alright?' Your teammate asked as she skated up to you, lightly touching your arm as she checked for anything out of place. Your ears picked up the sound of wood hitting something, the vibrations running up your legs from your skates as you looked behind you, seeing that it was Roman hitting his stick against ice. His eyes stayed locked on your form even when he was talking to his teammates. Was he trying to get a reaction? Was he trying to scare you? It was working a little but you weren't gonna admit that.