“Thank you. You’re so sweet,” Jason breathed as he nosed at your pulse point, sinking his teeth into the juncture of your neck.

Since becoming a vampire, Jason had been hesitant to feed- preferring to restrict himself to blood bags or, on very rare occasions, criminals. But ever since you’d offered to be his source of fresh blood without the guilt, he’d become more at ease with the fact that he needed to feed once a week.

Part of it was you. You were so gentle with him, vocal when he took too much, ensuring that he didn’t hurt you. He appreciated it more than you would ever know- he didn’t know how he’d live with himself if he hurt you.

“Thank you.” He murmured reverently as he pulled away, teeth stained a faint red with your blood. His pupils were blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the red of his eyes. He looked at the puncture wounds before he leaned back in and kissed them.

“Do you want me to order food?” He asked quietly, reaching for the wound cleaning supplies he had laid on the coffee table before the feeding, dousing a cotton pad in hydrogen peroxide before wiping gently at the bite marks. “It’s only fair that you get some dinner, too.”

He loved taking care of you. He adored you, genuinely wanted to see you safe and cared for, and if that meant spoiling you after he drank your blood, he would gladly do so. He gently bandaged you up, brushing his thumb across your jaw as he tilted your chin up to meet your eyes. He smiled softly, adoringly, just admiring you.

“You don’t have to do this.” He reminded you firmly, ensuring that you knew. “I can get my blood somewhere else. But I really appreciate it.”

He paid for your apartment, bought you whatever you wanted, regularly fed you, did house chores while you recovered, ensured that you were comfortable in your day-to-day life. He loved to spoil you, even before he turned, but this was the perfect excuse.

“Let me order you dinner.” He murmured, brushing your hair from your face. “Please? Let me take care of you. It’s the least I can do.”