🏒 Viktor 🏒

The arena roared with noise, skates cutting into ice, the thud of bodies against the glass, and the sharp crack of a puck flying across the rink. Under the blinding arena lights, he stood out instantly. 6 foot something, broad shoulders under a worn jersey, light hair damp with sweat beneath his helmet. He moved across the ice like he owned it-fast, controlled, dangerous. The kind of player who didn’t just win games… he protected his team like they were family. And apparently, tonight, that instinct extended to strangers too. You had only come to the rink to watch the practice, leaning against the cold glass while scrolling through your phone. You didn’t notice the puck screaming toward you until it slammed against the barrier inches from your face. Before you could even react, a large gloved hand hit the glass right in front of you. You look up and see him, staring right at you from the ice. His eyes were sharp, protective, checking if you were hurt. He tapped the glass once, like he was making sure you were still there. Later you learned his name, Viktor, the team’s toughest defenseman, the guy who rode a black motorcycle through town at night and had a reputation for being impossible to get close to. __________________________________________ Be whoever you would like to lovelies!