Are You Sick Like Me?
Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: M/M, Prinxiety Words: 3303 Rating: X for eXplicit (SERIOUSLY THIS IS NOT FOR MINORS!!) Warnings: Intense smut, blood kink, vampirism, pre-arranged and consensual dub-con, biting, chasing, predator/prey, primal kink, etc. Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Also this fic is inspired by the song “Sick Like Me” by In This Moment. Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders A/N: Hi! Everything depicted in this fic is 100% consensual. These are fantasy acts they discussed beforehand and mutually agreed upon after discussing hard and soft limits and setting a safeword. They will also do aftercare "off camera". This is how intense scenes like this should always be done IRL: discussing consent, sober, discussing limitations, setting safety protocol, and with aftercare to follow. If it seems dubious in this story, I assure you they both consented to it being this way for the sake of the roles they are playing and the scene they wanted to play out. This is what they wanted. They are also in the mindscape's Imagination. This technically takes place in the canonverse. They are both still Sides and, as such, are not fully human. No permanent damage is done or permanent injuries sustained. This allows them full range of freedom with limited consequences. I wanted the story to focus on the act itself rather than the setup and aftercare. Please know going into it that this story is MEANT to be intense and evocative. Seriously! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! If “Dead Dove” is not what you want to eat, then put it back and walk away! Thank you!! I sincerely hope you enjoy this. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Is it sick of me to feed the animal in you?
Since he’s the one who designed and built the Imagination’s dense, fantastical forest, Roman is pretty sure he has the upper hand in this. He knows the monster is after him and he knows he can be tracked by sound and smell, so his footsteps are carefully calculated and he weaves through trees to make his path less obvious. He’s not completely certain of the monster’s range of scent, so he climbs a tree just in case, moving upward and reaching the leaves in under a minute. He sweeps his red cloak back and takes a moment to catch his breath as he looks back on the moonlit path that he’s taken thus far. No sound, no sign of anything.
Virgil plants his feet and closes his eyes as he listens hard. No breath, no heartbeat, no footsteps. Just the leaves, the animals, and the soft wind. He needs to move. That’s when the sweet-hot scent of cinnamon caresses his nose, carried by the breeze and laying heavily atop the low mist. He grins wickedly as he opens his eyes. “Oh, Red. I hope you didn’t think distance would save you.” He runs, following the scent as it slowly, gradually grows stronger, his black nylon stalk sneakers making very little sound against the ground, giving him a predatory advantage.
Are you sick like me?
As soon as Roman feels like he can breathe, he leaps to the next tree and another few in a row before shimmying his way down and pausing at the creek bank. The trickle of water isn’t loud enough to cover him, but the water may help. He turns and runs east before leaping across a path of stones in the creek and landing on the opposite bank. He removes his cloak and drops it in the water, hoping that will derail the creature a bit longer. He stoops and cups his hands, pooling clear, cold water in them and drinking deeply.
A snapping twig gives Roman pause. He’s on high alert now, searching the area, lips pursed to keep him from breathing loudly, though it’s difficult with adrenaline driving the blood through his veins. In the distance, he swears he sees a flash of black for just an instant. It’s enough to put hydration aside and keep running, moving west now along the creek before veering from it again- following the creek would be too obvious. Is it sick of me to watch the wicked way you thrill?
Virgil is gaining on Roman. He can smell him. The cinnamon is starting to burn his nose. He can tell the scent travels up and through a line of trees and he laughs to himself, amused that the prince could ever think that that would throw him off the trail. “Poor little Red. The things I’m going to do when I catch you…” He follows the scent across the creek and leans down to pick up the discarded cloak. “Shame. I would have liked to have torn this off of you myself and kept the shreds as a trophy.” He pauses, his ears perking to the unmistakable thunder of a heartbeat in the near distance; it makes him chuckle. “Ready or not, here I come.”
Roman can’t hear anything now beyond his own panting and the pounding of blood in his ears over the crunch of leaves beneath his boots, but he knows he doesn’t have long. He can sense it like a tingle of static right before a lightning strike, and soon thereafter, he can feel the predator’s eyes on him, blazing into his back; he picks up the pace, running as fast as humanly possible, trying to put more and more distance between himself and this monster. His lungs are starting to burn. There’s a stitch in his side. He feels like his heart is going to burst. He keeps running, desperate for survival, for escape. The trees before him seem to stretch even further into the distance, like an ever-expanding hallway in a nightmare. He glances behind himself, and that’s his fatal mistake. He goes spilling to the ground after tripping over a jutting tree root. Immediately, he rolls onto his back and scrambles backward, trying to assess any damage done while keeping his eyes on the impending threat.
Is it sick of me to need control of you?
Virgil rushes forward, closing the distance between them, and leaps, landing on top of the fallen prince and pinning him to the ground. The chuckle that rumbles forth from his throat is not friendly, but dark and sinister. The wicked grin on his face causes his fangs to glint in the moonlight. “Oh, Little Red. You really thought you could outrun me? How cute.”
Roman may be caught, but the fight is not gone from him. He squirms in the vampire’s grasp and lifts his back, trying to pull himself free. “I did outrun you, demon! The only reason you caught me is because I tripped!”
“Keep telling yourself that, Princey,” Virgil chuckles. “Mmm. A real royal in my grasp. I bet you taste just as sweet as you smell.” He leans in close to Roman’s neck and inhales deeply. “Mouthwatering. And after all that running… what a nice hot meal you’ll make.” With one hand, he keeps Roman pinned to the ground, the other hand ripping Roman’s shirt up the center and exposing his naked torso. “Listen to that heartbeat of yours. Like a little hummingbird. So frantic. So desperate…” Is it sick to make you beg the way I do?
The proximity of the vampire to his neck forces a whimper out of Roman and he trembles in Virgil’s grasp. The tearing of his top makes him flinch. “Please… please… I’m not above begging. I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything!”
A smirk crawls across the monster’s lips. “Anything, hmm?”
“Yes! God, please, just–!”
“If I let you up and you try to run, I will catch you again, and I will be far less merciful. Do you understand?”
Roman swallows hard and nods. “Yes, I… I understand…” Is it sick to say I want you crawling on your knees?
“Good.” Virgil moves off of him and stands up, moving a few steps back. “On your knees, Little Red. Quickly. I’m not very patient when I’m hungry.”
Still trembling, Roman moves onto his knees, he looks tired but just behind the fear, there’s a fire in his eyes, an unmistakable determination, a will to live. Virgil finds it admirable.
Virgil smiles devilishly. “What a good little snack you are. Now crawl.”
“...What?”
“You heard me. Crawl, Little Red. On all fours. Towards me.”
How degrading. Still, Roman swore to do anything that would keep him alive, so he moves onto his hands and shuffles forward on the cold, leaf-covered forest floor. Dirt and leafy bits are sticking to his sweaty palms, but he continues until he comes to rest at the vampire’s feet. He looks up, making brave eye contact. “There. May I leave now?”
“Oh?” Virgil laughs. “You didn’t think that was going to be all, did you? No no no no no. I’m not done with you yet. Far from it. I just wanted to see the proof that you’re willing to do what it takes to make it out of this forest tonight alive. Proof that I can control you without hypnotizing you. That you will willingly do as I demand.” He crouches down and looks Roman in the eyes as he cups his chin. “And I see that you will. You’re impressive, Little Red. I don’t often meet those so willing to fight to survive.” Is it sick to say I live to break your will?
Just when his heart rate had begun to steady out to a normal pace, the intense eye contact has Roman’s heart racing again, though less from fear and more from the anticipation of what this creature will do to him. This clearly delights the vampire, because Virgil’s burning violet eyes glance at Roman’s bared chest for just a brief moment. “How kind of you to warm up my meal for me.” He plants his pale hand against Roman’s tanned and lightly scarred chest and pushes him back until the prince is lying flat on his back once more. “Tell me, Little Red. Do you have fantasies like this?”
“I… I don’t know what you mean…”
“Oh, sure you do. Fantasies of being chased down, captured, overpowered…”
“I–! No, of course not!”
Virgil chuckles. “I bet you do. I bet you love the idea of losing a battle of will to some beast and letting them take you as their own, ravishing you in the forest of your own design, causing you to make the sweetest sounds. Sounds you didn’t even think you were capable of…” He’s practically purring his words, clearly setting out for a reaction of some sort. Are you sick like me?
Slowly, Roman goes flush red from the neck up. “I… I do not…” He feels, however, that his heart is betraying him, thumping wildly at the evocative imagery, like the vampire is pulling the fantasies directly from his mind.
“Certainly not. After all, it wouldn’t be becoming of a young, brave, heroic prince, would it? Such filthy thoughts are for “demons” like me, hmm? Demons… like your brother.”
Roman moves to fight his way free again, but Virgil’s reflexes are lightning-fast and he finds himself pinned in place again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Virgil tuts. “You should know better than that. Have I struck a nerve, Little Red?”
“No! Just–” Roman huffs, frustrated. “...Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve fought the idea because… because I don’t want to be…”
“Shhh… It’s alright. Desires make you human, regardless of what they are. Don’t you deserve to have what you want? Don’t you deserve to feel alive? To feel pleasure beyond your greatest imagination?” Roman swallows and remains still. Does he deserve these things? He doesn’t know. He wants them. He wants to deserve them. But how can he be sure? How can he be worthy? He meets the monster’s eyes again. “How do I deserve it?”
“Oh, you’ve already proven your worth to me. Let me take you apart. I promise not to be gentle.”
That sends Roman’s pulse fluttering at an inhuman rate. It’s extremely lucky he’s metaphysical rather than human. His breath catches in his throat as the vampire descends upon him, licking long, wet, stripes up his torso and grazing his nipples with those sharp fangs. Roman trembles, slightly afraid of what those teeth may do to him, but he’s ready. This truly is something he’s fantasized about, something he’s wanted. Is it sick to say I want you biting down on me?
Driven by the sound of Roman’s heartbeat and the potent scent of desire wafting from his skin, Virgil shreds the rest of the prince’s clothes, leaving them scattered around Roman’s naked body on the forest floor. He won’t have to worry about being cold when they start moving together. The way the human trembles and shakes in his hands is addicting but most alluring is the scent of his blood. Virgil is very hungry; he wasn’t lying about that. “I’m going to bite you now.” It’s a simple warning as he picks up Roman’s left hand.
On instinct, the prince offers his neck, but he’s taken off guard when the bite sinks into his left wrist. His mouth falls open in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. In any other circumstance, Roman may be embarrassed by the sound that escapes him as the pain turns to pleasure and goes racing through his nerves, lighting up his brain in all the right ways. He swears for a moment he can feel the vampire smile against his skin.
Virgil drinks for a moment and pulls away, licking blood from his dripping lips. He heals the wound so his tasty morsel won’t bleed out on the ground. “Just as I suspected.” And what is it that he suspected? That Roman would enjoy this? That Roman would taste so delicious, like a three-star Michelin meal at a world-class restaurant? Both?
Roman has no further time to wonder as his captor begins to disrobe as well. No one ever told him that monsters would look so beautiful in the moonlit darkness. Suddenly, he wants this twice as badly and is holding himself back less. “You… I–”
“You can call me ‘Virgil’.” He smirks. “Or ‘Master’ if that’s your sort of thing. But I do look forward to hearing my name tumble forth from those pretty red lips.”
Being so on fire with want has Roman wanting to crawl out of his skin, wanting to beg, wanting to cry and plead and shout… How unfair! This vampire is playing him like a fucking violin and they’ve known each other for ten minutes!
“Cat got your tongue, sweet thing?”
Roman blinks. “No! I– Well, Virgil, I was just–!” Is it sick to say “I tease the hunter” like I do?
“You’re not very good at talking. But that’s okay. You don’t need to be.” Virgil runs his hands reverently over his prey’s thighs. “You have a name, Little Red?”
“...no.”
“Oh? So everyone around the palace just calls you ‘Your Majesty’, then? Hmm. I suppose I can do that.” Virgil leans in close, lips just a breath’s distance from Roman’s ear. “Would you like to know how you taste, Your Majesty?”
Again, Roman’s breath catches in his throat. “Roman! It’s Roman. My name… is Roman.”
Chuckling, Virgil pulls back and grins down at the prince. “See how easy that was? You are such a delight to play with.”
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to play with your food?”
“My food?” A laugh bursts forth from the monster’s throat. “Well, that’s what you were originally. But now… oh, now you’re so much more. You know… part of me wants to take you from behind… the other part of me wants to watch your face contort with pleasure and desperate need… and that part is winning.” He leans down and licks a languid stripe sling the length of Roman’s cock, causing the prince to shiver and gasp. “I hope you’re not too afraid of my fangs, Little Red.” With that, he slowly takes Roman’s cock into his mouth, concealing his fangs with his lips as much as he can to preserve Roman’s anatomy and keep things more pleasurable and comfortable.
Am I beautiful as I tear you to pieces?
The added potential danger of Virgil’s fangs being practically right against his cock makes Roman shiver and further electrifies his nerves. This is half of everything he’d been fantasizing about and he moans softly, quite used to having to control his volume level. That changes, however, when he feels a slick fingertip breach his hole, and he gasps loud enough that they both hear a nearby critter go running through the underbrush. The vibrations around his cock from Virgil laughing are positively sinful and he feels like he may be slowly going insane. Each drag of the vampire’s wet mouth against his cock is too much and not enough all at once. Just as he’s about to get impatient, a second finger enters him and brushes his prostate and he jolts at the new sensation. That finger makes a second pass and a third and now the pleasure is building from both sides. “Virgil!” The cry echoes through the trees.
Pleased with this, Virgil pulls back from the cock in his mouth, allowing it to spring free. “Yes?”
“Please,” Roman pants. “I want…” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to summon the will to admit his desires. “I want your cock. Please. I need it. Inside me right now.”
“Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” Virgil adjusts their position to ensure Roman’s comfort and presses his slicked cock against Roman’s hole. “Breathe for me, Your Majesty. Relax and let me in.”
Dizzy with lust, Roman opens his eyes as he inhales slowly, and begins to exhale as the vampire’s cock breaches just like his fingers. It’s thick and filling him so perfectly that he shudders and his breath cuts off into a moan that crescendos as Virgil’s cock slides past his prostate. He wants to reach out and take hold of Virgil’s shoulders like he would with a lover, and simultaneously, he wants to be pinned to the soil again. Am I beautiful as you tear me to pieces?
Luckily, the latter wish comes true because Virgil pins Roman’s hands above his head as he bottoms out, cock seated comfortably inside Roman’s ass. “So hot and tight for me, Roman.”
God, that’s the first time Virgil has used his name and it might just cause Roman to explode like confetti. “S… S-say… say my name again… please…” The prince’s voice is quivering with pleasure.
“Roman.” Virgil smirks and purrs as he slowly pulls back before thrusting forward again. “Oh, Roman. You sweet little thing. Look how perfectly you’ve given yourself to me.” He leans in closer as if trying to steal Roman’s breath. “You know that I can give you what you want, what you need…” He pulls back again and, without warning, he starts thrusting hard and fast, his cock dragging against Roman’s prostate with every thrust.
Starting to go cross-eyed with pleasure, Roman opts instead to simply let his eyes fall shut once again. He’s acutely aware of every sensation he’s feeling: the cool forest air filling his lungs as he pants between needy moans, the thundering sledgehammer of his heart against his ribs which he knows Virgil can hear, Virgil’s hands keeping him firmly pinned down and unable to touch the vampire or himself. Clearly, however, this monster is not a selfish lover, because Roman feels Virgil’s weight shift and then a hand firmly around his cock. He bites his tongue, but the moans tumble forth anyway. Not that he has the wherewithal to care. Virgil knows how to make his deepest, darkest fantasies come to life. It could not be more perfect and he knows this moment will be forever seared into his mind.
Am I beautiful as I tear you to pieces?
Desperately, Virgil is holding back his desire to sink his fangs into every inch of Roman’s tanned skin possible. It will be so worth it when he bites his throat at the moment of climax, but god, he wants every flavor of this delectable little human, wants to litter him with claiming bites and lap of every spare drop of blood like a glutton. Roman's cacophonous heartbeat does nothing to quell this desire but instead fans the flames. He redirects his focus and keeps moving, thrusting deep and hard, soft growls escaping him until he starts to slow down, approaching his climax. He hears Roman whimper in protest and he doubles the stroking pace of his free hand.
Unable to hold back anymore, Virgil leans in and bites sharply into Roman’s neck, causing the prince to cry out in ecstasy. He buries himself deep inside of Roman and comes hard, moaning as pleasure shoots through his cock. He resumes thrusting, dragging his cock against Roman’s prostate as he laps at his hot, steadily flowing blood. He moves his other hand into Roman’s hair, stroking and gripping as he drinks greedily from him, letting out a grunt of satisfaction as Roman’s hips stutter and he feels the human come, warm release splashing against his skin.
It takes an incredible amount of willpower, but Virgil manages to pull his fangs from Roman’s throat and heal his wound. He grins a crimson-tinted grin down a Roman. “You are beautiful and sick like me.”
