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artemiseamoon · 1 year

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Neptunium 1

Fic status: complete | masterpost

Vampire! John Wick x f reader

I’m re-uploading chapter one since some asshole slapped a label on it, it seems to hidden. So trying again.

Warnings: vampire stuff, biting, blood, lustful /intimate longings, don’t like this don’t read it. Just scroll and leave my work alone.

The hypnotic music vibrates through you as you balance the tray in one hand and move through the crowd. You sway your hips to the rhythm as you walk, carefully navigating the moving bodies. You’ve worked bottle service before but working at Neptunium was by far the best.

You loved the music, the crowd, the vibe - even the design and the colored lights; Neptunium truly felt like its namesake; it was like being on another planet. Sometimes, even on the busiest nights you felt like you were floating in some realm outside of your own.

As you passed the far end of the bar, something captured your attention. Looking up to the second floor, your eyes adjust to the blue light as you see a face looking back at you. Dark intense eyes meet your own.

You’ve seen him before.

His dark features, jet black hair always slicked back, his fine suits. He liked to drink here. Like clockwork he came on Friday nights from 1 to 2:15 am. He never came with a woman, a man, a group; he was always alone. Always at the 2nd floor bar. Maybe he liked the color blue?

The main floor was purple, it’s where you worked most of the time, it was also your favorite color. You were one of the best bottle girls they had, so it wasn't rare for you to work two floors at once in a night.

You turned away briefly as someone almost collided into you. When you looked back up, he was gone. Where the tall dark stranger once stood is now a young couple, laughing and kissing. Though the man is gone, you can still feel his eyes burning into you, your body temperature quickly builds as your pulse quickens. You can feel ghost hands on your body, moving over your skin.

Everyone was curious about him, including you. He moved through the club like a phantom. Aside from making his order and saying thank you, his conversation was very limited. Whispers of his identity floated around the club. Some say he was a professional killer, a hired hand and one of the best. Some say he’s called the Boogeyman, because that's how damn good he was at his job. Despite all the speculation, no one has asked. No one really knows.

Through he was respectful and a big tipper, it was clear this stranger was not someone to fuck with. Once, when a man got handy with another bottle girl, he took him down in a move so impressive everyone talked about it for weeks, months.

Setting your mind back on the task at hand, you made your way to the back room to drop off the bottles and grab two more. Every time you turned around, you felt like the stranger was behind you, only to find he's not.

…

When 2am rolled around, you stepped away for your last break of the night. As you made your way to the employee only 3rd floor, something takes over you; you keep climbing the stairs and head to the 4th floor.

Reaching the landing, you push open a set of doors that read " do not enter". The owner had plans for this floor, but they never came into fruition. Continuing down the dimly lit hallway, you move through the space like you've done this before, when in fact, you've only been up here once for about 5 minutes.

It was spooky up here, dim, a time capsule of sorts. This place has been around since the 20s, and aside from the exterior and some smaller things, the 4th floor is the only give away, it almost seems untouched from that era. The owner stores a bunch of the antique furnishing the building came with up here as well.

You heard whispers of a secret lounge being up here, but never saw it for yourself. You passed a number of unused rooms then stop at a set of doors. Nervousness stirs in your gut, mixing with excitement. Whatever is on the other side of that door beckons you.

Taking a moment to calm your breath, you take a look to your left, then your right.

I'm not supposed to be up here

You close your eyes and try to center yourself, but you can't. Your skin is on fire, your heart beats rapidly in your chest and you can't even out your breathing. Your hand moves before your mind makes a decision, and you're already turning the doorknob.

Pulling the door open, you're met with a soft seductive blue light, same as the second-floor dance floor. The room is fully furnished and looks like a speakeasy. Before you could examine any further, the feeling you're not alone hits you. You took a few steps into the room then turned quickly on your heels.

You spot him, the man in black. He' directly across from you by the fireplace, his hands folded behind his back. At first, he's as still as a statue, then he takes one step toward you, followed by another.

You swallowed hard and took a step back. Under his intense gaze you feel like helpless prey caught by a predator. Your body starts to do strange things, arousal now mixes with fear.

“You have nothing to fear,” His voice is deep, sultry. You name almost sounded foreign on his tongue. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is desire or something much darker.

“H-how do you know my name?” You asked shakily as you closed your arms around your body.

Though you tell your feet to move, you stay in place, the message getting lost somewhere between your brain and body.

He stops approaching and stands still. “Come here.”

“What? I- “you drop your gaze, realizing your body is moving toward him. Panic rises in you; your body continues to move in its own.

When you came to a stop before him, he leaned forward, taking in the features of your face.

“Normally, “he spoke calmly, “I wouldn’t do this, not in a place I could be recognized. But your blood,” his gaze falls lustfully to your neck, “it calls me.”

Your eyes dart back and forth as you take in his words. “My blood?”

His finger pressed against your lips, and when he looked into your eyes something in you shifts. He pulls you into him, his hands now on your lower back. His finger leaves your lips as that same hand moves languidly down your neck.

“My desire to taste you has consumed me. I can no longer resist," he breathes," I need you,” he tilted your head to the side. His eyes meet yours again, “remember, this not.”

You can’t respond, not even if you wanted to. You're hypnotized, no longer in control of your own body. You can’t do anything but let him hold you.

The earthy masculine tones of his scent wash over you, intoxicating you even further. Your once stiff body softness in his arms.

He teases your neck with his lips, his breath tingling your skin. A soft moan leaves your lips as he presses your body closer to his. Anticipation stirs inside of you as you wait for more, a kiss, a caress, a touch, something -

Then you feel nothing.

When you look at him, he’s staring at your neck and inhaling the smell of you. Your breath hitched as you felt his arousal, hardening between you.

He moans, closing his eyes and taking another deep inhale, running his nose against your skin, “what are you?”

“I - uh, human.” You responded nervously.

He growled and tightened his grip on you, you gasp at his strength.

He opens his mouth revealing sharp fangs. You jumped in his arms and tried to move away, but you can’t; you’re cemented to him. Before you can process what's happening, he draws his head back and sinks his fangs into your neck.

You whimpered as your skin breaks. He holds you so tight you fear he will break you.

As he sucks at your neck, your blood flowing into his mouth, your nipples harden against his fine black suit. The tingling between your legs becomes almost unbearable and you start to wish for his touch, his hands in the places that need him the most.

You let your eyes fall closed. You feel lightheaded, dizzy, drunk on him, on this.

He pulls back with a moan and licks his lips, breathing heavily. With one arm still firm around your body, he grabbed your chin with the other, looking into your eyes.

“You won’t remember this.”

“Wh- what if I want to?” You manage to ask, though your words are a bit slurred.

“I can’t allow that.” He replied softly yet firmly.

You fall deeper into him, under a spell and unable to look away. His thumb presses against your lips before outlining the shape. When his lips meet yours, you melt against him. Your mouths, hungry for each other open at the same time. He tilts his head, sucks you in, his tongue moving over yours.

You kiss so long your lungs suck in air when your lips part. Your skin is on fire, and you need him. You need him to take you now, to have you, to claim you. You didn’t care who he is, or that he just fucking bit you. You just want him, completely.

His large hand moves down your neck and over your cleavage. The tight top for work left little to the imagination. His palm is warm, only then you recall his touch was cold before.

He cups your breasts with his hands and pinches your nipples through your top, you notice the way his tongue runs against his lips. His grip becomes heavier, he grabs this time, pushing his fingers into your skin.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath before pulling away from you, leaving you wobbly on your own feet.

Confused at his sudden release, you regained your balance as he ran his hand over his beard. You take a step toward him, “What’s your name?”

He doesn’t reply but you can’t ignore the storm behind his eyes. He closes the space between you, taking your face in his hands. A serious, almost cold expression takes over his face.

“Forget this happened. This,” he squeezes you a little tighter, “never happened.”

Panic rises in you again, you nod. “This never happened.” You repeat.

The stranger holds you, studying your face, searching for something. Not wanting to let go. Eventually he seems satisfied, then he releases you. Before you can ask any questions, he vanishes, right before your eyes.

“What- “you looked around the room frantically, he’s nowhere in sight. Not even in the hall.

You wondered; did I imagine this? But the wound on your neck is very real.

You rushed to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and covering it with a scarf; all the while your mind is spinning.

Over the last two hours of your shift, you’re in a daze and tired from the loss of blood. No matter how much you try to shove it back, you can’t forget him, or what happened on the 4th floor.

Chapter two

Chapter three

The sequel masterpost ***

(When I do, it will go up a03, with just previews here)

#John wick #vampire John wick #John wick x f reader #vampire fic #Dracula au #fic: neptunium

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