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"Please, baby, I'm begging you-"
"No!" You replied indignantly for the hundredth time, though it was hard to appear firm when your cheeks flushed so deeply. "I'm not going to hurt you!"
"You won't," Satoru whined, still not moving from his place kneeling at your feet. He looked up at you as though you were sitting on a throne rather than a bed in his dorm room, the gaze behind his glasses filled with reverence. "It's only a little bit. Just to taste." He insisted, "Don't you wanna try?"
You looked away, already feeling temptation take its hold. Of course you wanted to try. Ever since the two of you started dating it was all you could think about. It was torture - whenever he stretched and let his pretty neck be displayed for the world to see, how he came back from runs with his heart pounding, pulse throbbing against his skin, the way his muscles rippled under those tight shirts begging to be bit into.
But you had always held yourself back. Being a vampire wasn't for the weak. Feeding was the worst part. By principle you refused to touch humans, your moral compass fighting against your hunger. Rats, squirrels, even the occasional stray cat were just enough to satiate your appetite. Yet you knew the second you let yourself taste the blood of a man, you'd never be able to go back.
And here Satoru was, practically pleading on his knees for it just fifteen minutes after you confessed your true nature.
Needless to say this was far from the reaction you expected.
"C'mon, angel," he murmured, getting closer. He tugged the collar of his shirt to expose his skin. Now he was just being cruel. "It won't even-"
You scowled, pushed him away with a hand to his face, smushing his cheeks. Drool pooled under your tongue but you quickly swallowed it. With every second that passed you felt your resolve weaken. You groaned and covered your face.
A little couldn't hurt, right?
"Fine! Okay, I'll do it." He grinned triumphantly. "But only from your wrist. And it's just a little."
"Just a little," Satoru repeated, eyes half-lidded. You looked at him, nervous, hesitant yet undeniably thirsty. He got up from his knees, stood over you with a far too eager smile, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. The hairs on your skin raised and suddenly you felt like the roles of predator and prey had imperceptibly shifted.
Taking his arm gently in your hands, you examined his wrist. pale, slightly pink, lined with veins crawling up the bottom of his palm. You could hear his heartbeat, your ears hypersensitive to every noise he made.
"Go on," he coaxed. You swallowed again.
With your gaze lifted to meet his, you slowly parted your lips and let teeth sink into flesh.
You knew you were fucked the second he bled. The taste was unlike anything you could've imagined. It was sweeter, purer than any animal blood you'd drank from. The hiss Satoru let out didn't even register in your head. All that filled your senses, clouded your mind, was the rush of his blood into your waiting mouth.
All your movements were unconscious now, your tongue lapping at his skin with fervor, lips closing around the wound and sucking more vigorously. The more you tasted, the more you craved. Any restraint you had before was disappearing quickly, your thoughts getting hazier. Only hunger remained, and it was unforgiving.
"Fuck, look at you," Satoru muttered in awe, pushing your hair away from your face as you fed. He was just as equally affected, albeit differently, his breathing heavier, face flushed and his sweatpants slowly yet very obviously tenting. If you could gather your wits and speak, you'd call him ridiculous for getting hard over something as depraved as this. Then again, this was Satoru you were talking about, so you really shouldn't be surprised.
"Tastes real good, huh angel?" Satoru smiled, eyes half lidded. The weak nod you gave in response didn't satisfy him.
"Words, sweetheart," his voice now firmer. As if his blood wasn't enough of an aphrodisiac already, his tone made your thighs clench tighter. Swallowing thickly, you replied, muffled. "So good, 'toru."
You were just about to reluctantly let go, not let yourself drink too much when Satoru made it clear he had other plans. He grabbed the back of your neck, shoving his arm even further into your face. A helpless, muffled whine left you in protest, the last bits of your rational mind protesting against taking more from him. Satoru was having none of it.
"My poor baby," he murmured wickedly, his voice gentle even as his hands held your jaw firmly in place, wrist still flush with your mouth. "You should've told me sooner how much you needed this."
A slow smirk grew on his face as he watched your throat work and your eyes slightly roll back, unfocused. Spit and blood escaped your lips, dripping down your neck and into your top, right between your tits. You moaned from how overwhelmed you felt as the inside of your thighs grew damper. You could only imagine how dazed and blood-drunk you must have looked to him. How desperate. Almost certainly pornographic.
Losing breath, you frantically squeezed his arm for him to let you go. With a final drag of his hand against your chin, staining the skin, he loosened his hold.
"Atta girl. Drank a lot outta me, didn't you?" Satoru carefully wiped the mess on your face with a predatory smile. He briefly let the tips of his fingers slip into your mouth, pleased as you automatically swirled them around with your tongue.
This was bad, you vaguely registered in your head as you saw the face he was making, yet it was hard to think clearly at all when his blood was still making your mind hazy, making your whole body buzz pleasantly.
"Now then," he smirked, pointing down to the bulge in his sweatpants. "I think it's time to repay the favor, don't you?"