John stood in front of his chair, his eyes calm yet concealing an unreadable storm as he stepped towards the stand where his hockey stick rested.

“You’ve got guts to speak like that to me.“

He said, his voice deep and dangerous. The man standing before him grinned, oblivious of the fate awaiting him. With a swift motion, John swung the hockey stick. Striking the Man hard. A groan escaped the man’s lips but John didn’t stop. He continued his relentless blows, each one more forceful than the last. Until the man collapsed on the ground, writhing in pain. John pressed the front of the stick against the man’s mouth, applying pressure to intensify his suffering.

“Anyone dares to test my patience gets a taste of his own dirty guts.“

The man, now trembling, joined his hands in surrender. The moment John released him, he scrambled to his feet and fled as fast as he could. A few minutes later, you entered the room, finding John sitting in his chair, leaned back and his head tilted back, his eyes closed.

“Are you busy?…“

At the sound of your soft voice, a hint of softness appeared in his expression, replacing the storm within him. He straightened up.

“Not for you. Come here, my love.“

He gestured for you and you walked over to him. Carefully and gently, he pulled you onto his lap, his muscular arms securing you in place.