john wick’s pillowcase

"Tom!" you exclaimed in surprise, caught off guard as he swept you into his embrace, a laugh bubbling up from you in response. His large hands sought to possess you, while his lips fervently caressed the tender skin of your neck. Drawing you closer, his fingers traced your hair, pulling you into a tight embrace, a surge of adrenaline coursing through you at the risk of being caught. A soft giggle escaped you, trying to resist his boldness.

"Tom, stop, they can hea —" your words trailing off as he silenced your protestations with a daring kiss. Despite the fear prickling your senses, desire surged within you.

Tom broke away from your swollen lips, a smirk playing on his own as he teased, "Then you should keep quiet." His lips resumed their journey over your skin, leaving a trail of sloppy marks. His hands tightened around your hips, threatening to lift the bottom of your dress. But you resisted, seizing his wrist and attempting to push it down, defiance flickering in your eyes as you met his gaze. Tom's expression turned even more determined. "Disobedience and resistance to a police officer is punishable," his voice low and commanding.

His hand boldly further, slipping into the back of your panties as his fingers dug into your supple flesh, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

"Tom, the awards ceremony is about to start,"  you reminded him with a hint of urgency, attempting to regain control of the situation. Tom's diligent hands continued to explore your skin, his lips making fiery kisses.

"No worries, we're gonna have a quickie," Tom murmured, his voice huskily with need. 

You continued to resist, but he couldn't tolerate it. With a sudden force, he spun you around, causing you to gasp in surprise.

Almost as if mimicking a detention, he deftly seized your right hand with one hand and pinned it behind your back. Simultaneously, he lightly spread your legs apart and pressed you against the wall. His authoritative grip exerted just enough force to guide your head aside, pressing your cheek against the hard surface. You felt the broad expanse of his chest pressing against your back. Amidst the fabric of your delicate dress, you keenly felt the metal buckle of his utility belt, the weight of his firearm holstered at his waist, and of course, his hardness.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he whispered, "You don't want me up there with a boner, do you?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. With a swift motion, he grabbed the delicate elastic band of your panties and pulled it down, exposing your bare skin, stealing your breath away.

"I don’t… but..." You attempted to protest, but his wide, warm hand stroking over your wet folds caused you to forget what exactly you wanted to say. A shiver ran down your spine as pleasure surged through you, and only a moan escaped from your lips, surrendering to his touch.

"...so wet for me," his voice grew more insistent. As he unzipped his fly, you instinctively arched up, offering him better access.

"Good girl," he praised as he teased, his tip along your clit, pausing at your eager entrance. With one confident movement, Tom penetrated you, setting a fast and intense pace that elicited soft moans from your lips, syncing with his ragged breaths. His hands firmly gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as your bottom collided more forcefully against his firm hips. As your hand reached between your folds, craving stimulation, he quickly grabbed it and pinned it behind your back once again.

"Nah, no touching yourself. You're being punished," His movements quickened until you felt his warm liquid fill you.

"Fuck," he growled deeply, his manhood twitched inside you.   

Frustration and desire intertwined as you felt hollow inside, yearning to be stuffed by his thick shaft again. He turned you around to face him, his touch gentle as he deftly adjusted your panties, straightened your dress, and tidied your hair. As he kissed you once again, leaving you breathless, each motion of his hands inflamed a fresh wave of desire, rendering you unable to break away from him. You yearned to continue, feeling the dampness of your panties from the mixture of your juices and his release, your pussy throbbing with need.

"While I'm being awarded, I'll be thinking about that you're my needy slutty," he said as he zipped up his fly. Tom's gaze locked with yours as he continued, "And tonight, when we return home, I'll have you screaming my name in pleasure, making you cum so many times that you'll plead for mercy," he vowed before his hand cradled your chin, pulling you into a fervent kiss. 

"Can't wait," you breathed out

He glanced at you with a flicker in his eyes, but then his expression shifted to seriousness as he stood at attention. "How do I look?"

You paused to appraise him, smoothing his tie with a gentle touch before offering a reassuring smile. "You look absolutely perfect," you replied softly.

"Do you know what Shibari is?" he asked abruptly, catching you off guard. Your eyes widened, and a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks at the unexpected topic.

"John, you never fail to surprise me," you chuckled softly. Furrowing your brows, you delved into the recesses of your memory. "Is it... something akin to BDSM, where they tie you up and... it involves pain?"

John shook his head. "Shibari is more than that. It's about trust, meditation, and relaxation." 

While preparing dinner, he tried to explain that it was more than just a kink, delving into its cultural aspects, the different techniques, and even his experiences during his stay in Japan.

"John..." your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words to express your thoughts. 

Reaching out, his touch warm and comforting, he took your hands in his. "I'm not expecting an immediate answer," he assured you. "Take all the time you need to think it over. If you refuse, I'll understand completely."

Meeting his gaze, you saw the sincerity and care reflected in his eyes.

"I'll think about it," you promised, feeling grateful that he didn't push for an immediate answer.

You entered the kitchen, and the scent of freshly prepared food immediately enveloped you, teasing your nostrils with its delightful aroma. John stood with his back to you, fully focused on the task at hand at the stove. There was a soothing ease in watching him, effortlessly preparing dinner for the two of you.

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression softening the moment his eyes met yours. In an instant, his focus shifted entirely to you as he welcomed your presence in the midst of his cooking.

"Darlin’, come here, I want to hear your opinion," he said, beckoning you to join him. Your smile widened in response.

John stirred the sauce intensively with a wooden spoon. As you reached him, he scooped up a spoonful of sauce and, before bringing it to your mouth, he blew on it gently to cool it slightly, ensuring you wouldn't burn your tongue. You wrapped your lips around the spoon, savoring the creamy texture and the hint of nuts and a subtle spice.

John gazed at you with hopeful eyes, waiting anxiously for your response. You deliberately took your time chewing, prolonging the anticipation before finally delivering your verdict. 

"It's delicious," you praised, a relieved smile gracing John's face as he nodded in satisfaction. He continued stirring the sauce with a methodical movement . With his head tilted slightly downward, strands of his dark hair fell softly from the sides.

"Listen, John, about last week’s conversation," you began, perching on the edge of the kitchen counter. John set down the spoon and turned off the stove, his gaze meeting yours expectantly.

"My answer is yes."

"Are you certain?" He delicately cupped your cheeks, treating you like something fragile.

"I love you, trust you, and it sounds pretty intriguing... So, why not?"

John ran his thumb gently over your skin.

"Then I need to instruct you."

"Maybe at dinner tonight?" you suggested, and John nodded in agreement, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned in to kiss you.

Stepping into the room, your heart raced with anticipation.  The room was bathed in soft, muted tones, illuminated by the flickering glow of candles placed on the chest of drawers. John sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a plain white cotton t-shirt and gray cotton sweatpants. Beside him, ropes of natural color were neatly laid out on the bed.

As soon as you entered, he raised his head and approached you. Your bodies met, and he greeted you with a tender kiss, his hands finding their place on your hips.

"Are you ready?" His eyes searched yours for any hint of hesitation.

You nodded. Despite your apprehension, there was a deep-seated trust in John, a sense that he understood your uncertainties and would guide you through them. 

"Remember, I've got you," John's voice was a soothing murmur. "Trust in me, and let go of any worries."  As you nodded in agreement, he untied your robe, his hands gliding over your shoulders, allowing it to fall onto the fluffy carpet and revealing your bare form. With a tender grasp, John led you to the bed.

"Take a seat in the center of the bed," he directed, his voice firm yet gentle. You promptly obeyed his instruction, settling yourself on your knees in the center of the bed. John positioned himself behind you, ready to proceed. 

"You know I'll never hurt you. If you feel uncomfortable or cramped... " With a fluid motion, he gestured towards the bedside table. You turned your head and spotted a pair of scissors resting there. "I will cut the ropes immediately. Just say it." As his hands began to massage your shoulders lightly, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, trusting in his words.

"I'll do a basic Shibari," he whispered in your ear.

You nodded in response. Then, he picked up a double rope and silently guided your right hand behind your back, followed by your left. As the ropes wrapped around the middle of your forearm, once, then twice, you were surprised to feel no pain—just a sensation of being securely held. Yet, deep inside, a worry stirred, gnawing at your peace. John fashioned the first knot and tenderly kissed the nape of your neck.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yes," you replied, reassured by his gentle touch.

The softness of his kiss on your shoulder gave way to the touch of a rope, squeezing your left deltoid muscle. You felt the warmth of John's breath against your skin as he enveloped you in his strong arms, securing the rope around your upper chest. Once more, he hugged you, the rope winding around you for a second time.

Feeling the ropes tighten slightly, you instinctively held your breath. Sensing your tension, John responded with a lingering kiss on the curve of your neck.

"Y/N, you don't need to try to analyze or control your pain, let it go. You’re safe with me." His words carried the same calming effect they always did in any circumstance. Whether it's stress at work, uncertainty about the future, or struggling with decisions, his presence and words of comfort never fail to ease your mind and soothe your soul. And now was no exception.

You could feel his hands skillfully tying a knot between your shoulder blades, his touch conveying care without the need for words. John adjusted his actions, interspersing them with leisured kisses on your delicate skin. With each movement, he ensured that the rope was neither too tight nor too loose, prioritizing your comfort and safety above all else.

His two fingers glided slowly between the ropes and your body, tracing their entire length giving a surprisingly pleasant sensation as they moved. The once tight ropes now exerting a gentle pressure, snug but not constricting. 

John's right arm encircled you again and you felt the rope snaked against the inframammary fold, gradually winding around you. As the ropes continued to encircle you, your focus shifted away from the awareness of being bound. Instead, you welcomed their embrace, enveloping you with each coil.

You tuned into the subtle and profound experiences of your body, surrendering to the delicate touch of the ropes and the warmth of John's hands. His fingers moved with practiced ease, skillfully guiding the ropes across your skin. With each breath he took, you felt his warm exhales against your skin, a soothing reminder of his closeness and care. As your senses sharpened, you discerned the rustle of the material as it formed intricate knots, with the faint scent of flax lingering in the air.

John was the master, his hands transforming you into a work of art, sculpted precisely to his vision and desires. Your arms were bent and bound behind your back, ropes draped over your shoulders, gently compressing your chest, making your restraint. Knots were tightly secured around your waist in front. Standing before you, John held the two ends of the rope like reins with one hand. With a subtle pull, he could induce discomfort, but he expertly adjusted his grip, ensuring only a slight tension.

"Get on your knees and spread your legs," he commanded, and you obediently complied.

As he shifted behind you on the bed, on his knees, pressing his firm body against yours, he deftly slipped the ropes between your legs. His fingers lightly brushed against your sensitive spot, eliciting a moan to escape your lips as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. Seizing the opportunity, his large hand wrapped around your neck with a firm yet gentle grip, his fingers encircling your throat with a subtle pressure. While his other hand still held the ropes. Tied in a knot, they nestled against your soft folds. 

"Is everything okay, sweetheart?" he murmured. The ropes gliding between your legs, his grip on your neck, his stubbly cheek brushing against your ear, his warm breath against skin, each touch sending pleasurable tingles all over your body.

You nodded in response and he adjusted the ropes from behind.

"Sit down, legs forward," John instructed, lending you support as you shifted your body weight back and settled into a seated position, extending your legs forward. Seating himself in front of you, his hands tenderly caressed your feet, then trailed up to your calves and thighs with a gentle touch. As he looked up at you, it was as if a goddess graced him with her presence.

Now, you could observe him work more closely. John carefully closed your knees before retrieving a rope and tightening it around your hips. His movements were unhurried, each action precise and deliberate. With skilled hands, he tied one knot after another, gradually descending lower. Then, he fixed another rope above your calves, threading it intricately from knot to knot before finally securing your ankles in place.

John silently admired his work, taking in the sight of you seated in the center of the bed. Your body, outlined by the ropes, lay motionless, each knot emphasizing the curves and contours of your form. As he made final adjustments, smoothing out any twists or wrinkles in the rope, John ensured that you were not at risk of numbness. He checked your condition, ensuring that you could still move your fingers and toes freely.

"I love you, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In response, you leaned into John's touch.

"I love you, John."

Wrapped in the ropes it was both unfamiliar and oddly calming. It felt as if you were in a cocoon crafted by John's careful hands with a deep affection. Slowly, a feeling of weightlessness washed over you, carrying you to a place that seemed both distant and intimately near. Your thoughts drifted like currents but flowing past you.

Time seemed to lose its meaning as you surrendered to the moment. 

As John carefully began to untie each knot, the sensation of blood flowing freely through your body brought about a deep sense of relaxation. It was a state of euphoria unlike any other. With each rope that slipped away, you felt lighter and more at ease. Once freed, John gently massaged the areas where the ropes had pressed against your body the most. To your surprise, there were no signs of redness or bruising on your wrists, only faint impressions left by the ropes.

"Get in," John murmured, and you slipped beneath the covers. Watching him undress and join you, he quietly gestured for you to turn onto your side. Settling behind you, his hand wandered over your back, waist, and shoulders, admiring the patterns that remained on your skin from the ropes. His fingers trailed their path with a tender touch, following the lines of  the delicate marks on your flesh.

My Everything his words lingered against your skin as his lips traced the path where the rope had lain just moments ago, kissing you leisurely. You are so good to me his voice filled with gratitude. His warming touch seeped into your skin, delicately tracing paths along your hip and waist. These movements and words of affection wove together, creating pure bliss.

You could feel his manhood stiffen, pressing firmly against your buttocks.

May I? John’s question reverberated in your head. Lost in a haze of euphoria, you couldn't find your voice but your body yearned for John. Nodding, you arched your back, inviting his hardness. Without hesitation, he lifted your leg slightly and guided his smooth, hard shaft slowly inside you, evoking a low groan of pleasure from both of you.

It stretched you so perfectly. John moved with deliberate slowness, making sure you felt every inch of his thick shaft. His lips brushed gently against your skin, and his breath felt scorching against your flesh. Sex with John had always been sensual and passionate, but today it reached an entirely new level. A blend of fatigue and bliss enveloping both of your bodies as you merged into one. Never before had you experienced such intense pleasure. 

Your pussy, recently stimulated by the ropes, became incredibly responsive. With just a few deep thrusts and the movement of his fingers over your clitoris, John effortlessly brought you to climax, eliciting loud, unrestrained moans of relish from your lips. Your body shook, clenching around him tightly.

There, there his voice was so raspy. Gripping your hip, John drew you closer to his crotch, allowing his warmth to spread deep inside you, filling you completely.

Sweet dreams, honey sedative voice drifted you off into a peaceful sleep.