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It had been a while. He spent longer than he should have with this one. But in a way, that was what made it better.
There was knowledge of every single aspect of John’s life — what time he went to bed, what time he got up, what time he was asleep — that being the most important part. As time went on, Arthur’s urges grew stronger, and his primal instincts became clearer and more reminding. It was like he was starving himself to it better.
How it started was in Blackwater. And he was looking for the next fool to feast on, considering every other town was swarmed with vampire hunters when he left. It was fucking hilarious how there were so many of them, and they still couldn’t get their hands on the one they were looking for. He ended up laying eyes on a man just beside him at the bar.
“Just a beer, thanks.” John placed the fifty cents on the counter, taking his focus towards something else, not knowing about the person who was currently watching him like he was prey.
He knew this was the next one he wanted. Nothing like anyone he’d seen before. He had an urge. Not just a desire to just drink his blood and feast on him, or rip his throat out and murder him; it was more than that. Even though it was women he targeted, because they got tired easily and men fought back more, he couldn’t resist the man he had his eyes on. Arthur wanted him.
He watched the stranger more as everyone else became unfocused from his view, shamelessly checking him out now. He was smaller than Arthur, no doubt, with a small waist but strong arms, slim neck, black mid-length hair with slight curls — the entire deal. He also had an interesting taste in fashion; the man looked like a fucking cowboy. Something he saw a lot less of lately compared to a few decades ago.
No words had been exchanged, but Arthur swore the man knew he was staring at him. Or he was too drunk to care. A few beers later and a while after deciding how to go about this, there was movement out of the corner of his eye, and the human that he was currently fantasizing about left, stumbling out half drunk into the darkness. He looked around to make sure if anyone else was watching before opening the two doors and following behind, trying not to be seen, but blending into the dark well.
The thought of coming up behind him crossed his mind, maybe dragging him somewhere quiet, already imagining the sight of the helpless stranger beneath his body, but he put a stop to those thoughts. He wanted more. It would be such a waste to have him now, so quickly. No, he continued to watch the man approach his horse.
“C’mere girl—“ The man slurred, mounting his horse. God, even just the way he got on the horse and readjusted his body got Arthur’s head wild.
And so he did the same as before, following him. It wasn’t far; the ranch he lived at was basically right next to Blackwater. After that, he figured out more on his own, the stranger's name being John Marston, and he was previously an outlaw. He lived alone, and he had a woman who left him. That explained the endless drinking that fit into his routine. Everything about him benefited Arthur for what he had in mind.
He watched him everyday, and every night too. just staring at him from a table in the saloon. The way he leant over the counter, he was an alcoholic that was for sure, Arthur was surprised no one had already taken advantage of him when he headed home drunk every night. He did realize though, he wasn’t the only one who wanted John and that they did try, he eventually ending up slitting a man’s throat in an alley because he tried to strike up a conversation with him one night. He said he didn’t have any further intentions, but Arthur didn’t believe him.
Arthur still wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to him, whether it was his blood, his body, or a mixture of both. He did want both, as greedy as it sounded. That brought him to now, a few days later, just watching him. This was about the time John would be out for the next 8 hours after getting himself drunk. Arthur opened the door; another thing, John couldn’t be bothered to lock his door. Probably thinking that no one would try to break into a former outlaw's house. On that part, he was right, a human wouldn’t.
With every step he took, he stopped to take a brief look around. There was never time to get a proper look inside the house due to not wanting to let John out of his sight, but there wasn’t much he was missing out on. Just some standard storage, messy. The furniture pushed up against the walls, making the house look even bigger than it was. Finally, he wandered into the room John slept in, careful not to make too much noise. It was all dark, and he could barely see anything until he went closer.
Arthur knew he probably should have felt bad for this. Guilty, even. But those feelings went away a very, very long time ago. He felt no remorse for anyone he killed or for anyone who dared look him in the eyes as they bled out; all they would see was a monster. And that was fair, because all he considered humans to be were monsters as well.
He watched John sleep, he looked so peaceful and so innocent. He hadn’t risked being this close to him before. Arthur saw the scars on his cheek, not knowing the meaning behind them. But with how clear they were, and how deep they were, he imagined his face being covered in nothing but blood when they appeared on his face — starting to become a little jealous that he wouldn’t be the first one to have hands on him like that.
John had the blanket over him, he looked warm, and it seemed he was having a good sleep. Shame that it would be ruined. He gently took off the blanket, careful not to wake him so early. Arthur was met with the pale, inviting flesh of John’s chest, which had a few scars to match his face, not to mention his collarbones. He looked even better than Arthur imagined without the clothes covering him. He wandered his fingers around John’s neck area, then over his Adam's apple — John still didn’t move. He looked gorgeous. The pale skin stuck out amongst the dark; it was almost impossible to ignore.
Repositioning his hands from his neck to John’s waist, it felt even more slimmer than he observed — slender. He noticed John would bend over, whether it was to pick something up or whatever else. Arthur imagined himself surprising John behind him, biting his neck, and pinning him down. Now he was able to do that. Arthur got on top of him, trapping him on the bed as he still slept, mouth just inches away from the pale flesh of his neck. He could feel his fangs already showing automatically, just out of habit and desperation to go feral on him.
He kissed his neck, dragging his tongue along it as he tried to find the right spot to bite. Arthur found it, then bit down harshly into his skin, sharp pointy fangs piercing through it, then slipping easily beneath, and quickly a pool of deep red blood poured into his mouth.
He could tell John woke by the jolt of his body, and his heart immediately speeding up, becoming rapid. It didn’t surprise him, not like he tried to bite down gently on John or anything. If he was going to do this, then he would be making the most of it, so Arthur just held his arms down more, knowing what was about to happen next. The taste was bittersweet, and he wasn’t sure if it was because it had been so long, but it was the best he had ever tasted. It ran throughout his mouth, he wanted to let out a groan at how satisfied he was when the stream of blood pouring from John’s neck continued.
“S-Stop—“ John underneath him groaned in pain, his blood soaking the collar of Arthur’s shirt as he did. His neck was now dripping in saliva and blood mixed with each other. Arthur couldn’t deny it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
He moved his hand down to his pants, the other pinning both of John’s hands above him on the mattress. Fortunately for him, he knew John slept near next to naked, just in his boxers. If anything, this would be his lesson. It would have been only a matter of time before someone else got to his perfect body, he should be getting a thanks that it wasn't someone who wanted to do worse.
“No…no, no, no—“ John managed to finally speak, only repeating himself when he felt his pants being taken off. Arthur gave him time to mutter words as he played with his waistband. He could barely move his arms, only squirming around like an idiot as he felt unbearable pain.
Arthur interrupted him and took his mouth off his neck, parting with a fine line of thick red blood following along. “Yes, yes, yes.” He smiled at him, and showed his pearly white fangs, hot breath against John’s neck.
At first, he didn’t want it to become a mess, but John struggling and moving around just made everything run everywhere, blood soon pouring down his chest until it stopped.
He forced his legs open, immediately sliding his free hand down between his thighs. John kicked his legs back at him, but Arthur stopped him. He put his fingers in his inner thighs, noticing the substance that coated his fingers as he put them in John’s cunt. He was enjoying this.
Arthur continued, only being more motivated to toy around with his clit and rubbed it, forcing him to enjoy it, which was working as he could feel John getting wetter and wetter. He didn’t want to waste too much time getting him wet, this was meant to be pleasurable for him mainly, but just knowing that John’s body was betraying him turned him on even more.
“Feels good, hm?” Arthur teased him as he heard John’s constant begs to stop, still not being able to deny the clear evidence. He spread his fingers inside him, scissoring them slowly, one finger still playing with his clit. John just mouthed the words ‘no’ at him, but nothing came out except for whimpers of pleasure. Arthur was amused by how pathetic he was.
He continued to fight back, but humans were much weaker than what he was. But even without the power difference, there was no chance of him escaping this position.
“Don’t waste your time fighting. You’re weak.”
He worked up the strength to push Arthur slightly away — immediately after realizing that was the worst thing he could have done.
“You damn...“ Now it was starting to get fucking annoying. Arthur smashed his fist against John’s jaw, just enough for him to stop fighting back. It was somewhat gentle as he tried to hold back his anger, but with a vampire's strength, it was still harsh. He focused his attention on one hand, taking himself out.
“Pleas— Don’t,” John’s voice came out desperate, even fumbling on his words as he saw what he was doing.
Arthur put his hand over his mouth, shutting him up. “Be quiet.” He snarled, paying attention to John again. Clearly, that's what he wanted. This was a part of his consequences of wanting two things at once, usually it would be over in a second, but he had to put in the little work to make John shut up.
“No, no… your too big ple—“ John’s words came out muffled, but Arthur heard him, and it only instreased his desire to fuck him. He pressed himself against his already abused hole, wet and red after forcing his massive fingers inside of him.
John bit down on Arthur’s hand, sinking his teeth deeply into the flesh and squeezing his eyes shut. Arthur found the right spot quickly, easily sliding himself into the slick of his hole. He took his hand off John’s mouth, pinning his arms down so he could hear everything coming out of his mouth. Arthur thrust himself inside him, walls being tight as his cock stretched him out, it felt all he imagined and better.
John wouldn’t listen to his words, still trying to push him away, doing nothing but proving Arthur’s point that he was weak. It became easier; the other ones would try to fight back, kick their legs, and do whatever else they could for the entire time, but John stopped and just took it. He wanted to laugh, he knew humans were weak, but John being this weak…even more than all the women he’d feasted on. Was he nothing without a gun?
He let out shallow moans as Arthur brutually fucked his pussy repetitively hitting his sweet spot in him over and over again — whines and groans in a mix of pure pleasure and pure pain.
John felt so good around him, warm and tight. The lust for his blood and both him entirely just pushed Arthur even further, one more taste of blood brought along one more thrust, and before he knew it, he was spilling his seed inside him, completely filling him.
John couldn’t help but let the tears roll down his cheek and soak the pillow underneath him when his eyes became more unfocused and he felt warm thick come inside his cunt. The man above him smelt like blood and sweat, like a real man. Except he was something else.
Arthur pressed his mouth against his, forcefully. Making sure John would be able to taste his mouth while he was still inside him. He accepted, not having a choice but to let the vampire’s tongue slip into his mouth, all he was able to taste was the salty flavor of blood in return. Arthur pulled away from him, fangs slightly digging into his lip as he resisted the need to go further. Arthur wanted to keep him alive, he remembered.
He licked off the remaining blood that escaped down John’s neck, tongue being met with warm flesh, Arthur would be back for more, so he didn’t bother feeling disappointed this was the last of it. There were two harsh marks that were left in John’s skin, both red with blood. And by the look of them, he realized why he was so drawn to John in particular, and why the blood smelled and tasted so good. John was his. Not even because Arthur forced him to be, but because he was chosen to be his.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Looks like you’re mine now.” Arthur said when he pulled out of him, not even bothering to clean John up at all, just watching him try to catch his breath and process what happened.
“Don’t cry, Johnny.” His tone was somewhat softer when he noticed the tears, as if to soothe him while John choked on his sobs. So loving after he just fucking ruined him to the core, covered in blood, come, and even spit.
“I’ll be back.” Arthur knew he would end up passing out soon, and then in the morning he would awake, still with the memory of what happened tonight. He might’ve tried to run, that wouldn’t surprise him. But now that John was his, there wasn’t really a chance of him succeeding in trying that.
John was too out of energy, too dizzy, and too dazed from the blood loss to even say anything back to him, he just looked back at him like a dumb whore. He knew the man would live up to that promise, and he wasn’t even surprised he knew John’s name, because John knew after a while there was a set of eyes focused on him, and he sort of loved the attention.