#especially when you have new employees who count the fucking pills one at a time

[lavishedinjimin]

a little bit of sugar, daddy [9]

↳ pairing: taehyung x reader

↳ genre: smut, CEO! au, sugardaddy! au 

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 11.5k (This is the longest fic I’ve written so far oops) 

↳ warnings: dom tae, sub reader, cussing, big dick taehyung, unprotected sex (FUCKING GLOVE THEM UP BEOTCH), rough sex, choking, handcuffing, use of gag ball, dirty talk, face fucking, multiple orgasms, and many more :D

— synopsis: Taehyung - a sugardaddy and a businessman, a man who derives his life from sex, pleasure, and money. Y/n - a girl working at a small cafe, whose sex life is as dry as the weekly delivered coffee beans. Will Y/n adjust to the new lifestyle she agreed to, and keep up with all of the dirty antics with Taehyung?

THIS TOOK TOO FUCKING LONG. Sorry for any errors, grammatical mistakes or typos! Check out my masterlist to see more! 

The sound of your phone’s alarm clock wakes you up from your deep sleep, cutting off your dream about you and Olivia. Quickly sitting up to remove the sleepiness away from your body, you stretch your arms upwards, groaning from the satisfying feeling. You feel the fresh morning air and the sunlight coming through your blinds, painting your sheets with a faint yellowish tint. 

Grabbing your phone from the desk, you text your best friend.

You [6:23 AM]

– Liv! I had a dream about you.

– You probably won’t see this until later though

– But I dreamed that we were at a strip club and you were so wasted that you climbed up on one of the poles and you twerked

You [6:24 AM]

 – But instead of the people cheering you on

– They laughed because you had no butt to shake

– And you cried… yikes

A giggle escapes your lips, trying to remember more of what happened in your dream but that one scenario was the only one stuck in your mind. Leaving your phone on the bed, you scramble to the bathroom to shower.

You had an appointment with your doctor today regarding your birth control. It was Taehyung’s request, and you had no choice but to do what you were told. There was no point in saying no, too. You figured that there’s no harm in using it. And besides – you researched that being on the pill is safer than pulling out! 

After you showered, you wore a beige sweater and black skinny jeans paired with your black low-cut converse. It was a good thing that your first period at school today was at eight-thirty, and your appointment at seven o’clock, leaving you enough time. Arranging your bag for school, you grab all your necessities before heading out with your keys, locking the door.

Somehow, you didn’t feel trapped around Taehyung at all. There was no suffocating feeling, he wasn’t pushing you to do anything you didn’t want to. He always made sure that you’re okay with everything.

You liked it. You like that someone was finally taking care of you when your own parents couldn’t.

You called a cab, smiling brightly at him to freshen his day as you sat on the backseat. “Good morning sir!”

Sir. Ahh, how you miss Taehyung. 

“Good morning to you too, young lady! Where are we off to today?”

The driver was so nice, making your heart warm. You saw that he was 50 years old from the I.D he stuck behind his seat. He’s bald, looks very young for a middle-aged man.

“Umm, Mrs. Raya Kim’s clinic? It’s at 3148 Doctor’s Drive…” you mumble.

“Ah yes. Understood.”

You release a pleased sigh, trying to relax your body at the uncomfortable seat.

You feel nervous, not going to lie. You feel tense for the appointment even though Mrs. Raya was a trusted doctor. Olivia told you that a gynecologist would’ve been better, but you knew no one you could rely on and you did not want to go outside of the city.

The ride was quiet, and you smile when you hear the driver humming an unknown song. It was kinda creepy from how joyous he was – you've never seen a cab driver this bubbly in the morning!

“We’re here,” the driver says and you quickly scurry inside your bag to find your wallet, giving him three dollars.

“Thank you,” you bid farewell before opening the car door, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Before you can even shut it close, the man yells.

“Miss! You dropped your phone!”

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you see your phone ditched on the dirty carpeted floor of the cab. You cringe, forehead wrinkling as you quickly pick it up and wipe the device using the hem of your sleeve. “Oh my god, thank you so much!” you say dolefully, eyebrows furrowed, “Please drive safe!”

The man chuckles, “I will. Please be mindful of your belongings.”

You nod your head, finally closing the door shut and the car drives away.

God, that was close. Good thing he didn’t just leave and drive away. 

You'll probably cry if you lose your phone. 

Placing the event that just happened at the back of your mind, you make your way in front of the clinic, slowly pushing the door open. The bell at the top of the doorframe jingles, indicating your presence.

The doctor’s office always scared you, even back as a child. Even though you’re already twenty, you still had that tinge of uneasiness whenever you walked into a room. You wish you had someone here with you. Striding your way to the front desk, you force a smile out of you.

“Good morning,” you start, “I have an appointment with Mrs. Kim at seven?”

The man over the counter starts to look through her files, “Name?” he states blandly.

“Y/n ___.”

Going through the papers, he emits a satisfied sigh when he finds your folder of records. He looks through the beige folder, nodding his head, “Alright, Mrs. Kim is still working with another patient right now so please have a seat, and I’ll call you when she’s ready.”

“Okay, thank you.” You grip your bag strap tightly, finding a vacant seat in the lounge to sit in. Good thing there were not a lot of people, about five of you inside the area, and you can sit in peace.

Checking the time on your phone – 6:50 am, it reads. You had ten minutes left to kill so you decide to call Taehyung so that your nerves can rest for a little while.

Your heart thumps faster in your chest, pressing the call button with your thumb as you chew on your bottom lip.

Bringing your screen to your right ear, you wait for him to answer.

Taehyung was in the middle of signing documents when he heard his phone ring from the other side of the room. He furrows his brows, standing up from his leather chair as he follows the sound of his ringtone. He picks up his phone from the couch and immediately smiles when he sees the caller I.D.

“Hello, angel.”

The deep, raspy voice quickly made you squeeze your thighs together, preventing a whimper. You can never get used to his hot voice.

“Hi,” you quietly say, “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you…”

“No, no, absolutely not,” his mood brightens up immediately as he hears the pleasing tone of your voice, “You never disturb me. I’d rather talk to you all day, baby.”

The way he was saying those words, a sultry, teasing vibe was making your legs quiver. You shouldn’t be feeling like this! Not when there’s other people around. Maybe calling him was a mistake… 

“Taehyung, I’m at… I’m at the doctors.”

“What? What for?!” he suddenly blurts out, thinking that you got sick or got into some kind of trouble. He sits down on the couch, placing his right leg on top of the other as he rests his free arm out on the backrest. “Are you okay?”

You giggle, chewing on the inside of your cheeks, “Do you remember when you told me I should get prescribed for birth control?”

Taehyung, right after you said those words, hangs his head low while he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. Black strands of his hair cover the front of his eyes as he stares at his lap. He smirks cockily, “Yeah?”

Yet he doesn’t let you reply though, answering before you, “Are you about to?”

You nod, but you remember that he wasn’t actually there to see you. “Mhmm, I’m quite nervous though.”

Taehyung sighs as he can’t hide the growing smirk on his face. He hates how his mind was absolutely going straight to the gutter, but he tries to keep most of his composure. “Ahh, why are you nervous, angel? There’s nothing to worry about, right?”

You slightly frown, your fingers starting to pick on the fabric of your jeans. “I know, but,” you blush, “I wish I had company.”

“Oh, angel,” he breathes out, feeling a stinging pinch in his chest. “You should've told me so that I can be with you.”

“Yeah but,” you protest, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You know that’s not a problem, Y/n. You should know that by now.” You gulp from the sudden use of your first name, his tone becoming strict. “I can make time for you. Why didn’t you tell me that you had it scheduled today, hm? Especially now for an important matter.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your mouth go dry as you try to find a quick answer. Just the way he was speaking as if he was talking to an employee of his or a client – firm and stern, made you tremble in your seat. You did not know when you’ll get used to it.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing that you can say, breath hitching up.

Taehyung squints his eyes and bites his lip for a quick second, enthralled by the soft tone of your voice. He decides to play with you, keeping in mind that you were in a public place. “Sorry? That’s the only thing you can say?” he teases. 

You can’t hide back your whimpers as you felt electricity run through your spine and down to  your core.

“It w-won’t happen again.”

“Remind yourself who you’re talking to.”

“Sir. I’m sorry s-sir,” you half-whisper, careful so that others won’t hear you. You were blushing so hard, not believing that this was happening right now. The air suddenly gets hot around you, feeling butterflies in your stomach when Taehyung growls softly.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, amused, “Look at you, whimpering. Wanna tell me why, baby?”

Bouncing your knee up and down, you emit a shaky sigh. His voice was turning you on so much, but it was hard to keep your emotions to yourself when there were other people around. The room wasn’t loud, but quiet enough that if you listen closely, you’ll hear what other people are talking about.

You worry if these strangers can hear you too.

“Tae – sir, please,” you beg, “not right now.”

“Aww, why?” he fakes an upset tone, pouting his lips, “you don’t want people to hear you, huh? Hear how desperate you are?”

You feel yourself slowly soaking your panties so you cross your legs together, trying to relieve some type of friction. “Mmm, s-sir,” you mewl, shutting your eyes while your fingers grip the phone tighter, “I can’t…”

Taehyung feels his dick harden through his pants, curling his other hand into a fist as he digs his nails into his palm. He likes messing with you like this. Yes, it was cruel of him – but you had to get used to it.

This was only the beginning.

“If I was there I’d have no problem with teasing you, angel. Resting my hand on your thigh, dragging it close to your cunt? Hm? I don’t care if people will look at us,” he laughs darkly, “I’ll even let them watch.”

“Sir,” you whine, “I- i/please. I want y-you but I can’t.”

“Oh, baby, baby,” he coos, “I know. Can’t handle it? You just want me to be there with you right now? Is that what you need?”

“Yes!” you declare too loudly, causing an elderly man to whip his head in your direction. Instantly looking down at your feet, your cheeks flush in a deep shade of red. You feel so embarrassed!

Taehyung has never heard you like this, sounding so needy. He finds your little noises so adorable, wanting to just snuggle you up in his arms, stroke your hair, and fuck you against the wall. It was crazy how the little things you do turns him on, having such a huge effect on him. Deep inside, he was afraid of how whipped he was for you.

He can imagine your red face as you struggle to shut your mouth, how you were probably biting on your lip. He wants to see your cute blushing face in person so badly, wants to hold you in his arms and play with your cunt, wants to see you cum – but he has work to do. So, he settles on dirty talk. 

“I bet you’re wet right now, angel. Hmm? My dick’s throbbing for you baby,” he grunts when he brings his hand down to palm the tent his cock has created. “Wanna have my way with you so bad.”

You knit your eyebrows together in frustration, licking your dry lips. You didn’t know what to do anymore. As your foot nervously taps on the white tiled floor, you feel your palms getting sweaty.

He growls, making you release a quiet moan. “Fuck, you make me go crazy. I want you so bad, angel. Want to fuck you here in my office with the door unlocked so that people can easily come inside. You want that, hmm? People catching us fuck? Bet your cute little pussy’s begging for that, huh?”

“S-sir, mmh” you whimper with pursed lips, getting wetter and wetter each second. Taehyung knows that you can’t do anything in this situation that you’re in, making him have all the control.

Yes, you can just hang up, but you don’t want another punishment.

“Miss Y/n?”

Your head instantly snaps up when you hear the man call for your name from the front desk, and you quickly try to get yourself together.

“Yes?” you reply with wide eyes, heart pounding rapidly.

“Mrs. Raya is ready for you.”

Taehyung hears this and chuckles.

“Okay,” you nod furiously, forcing a fake smile.

“Sir—Taehyung, I have to go.”

Taehyung frowns, purposely making his tone deeper, “Oh, so you’re gonna leave me needy, huh?”

”Tae!” you clench your hand into a fist, punching your knee in frustration, “I’m sorry, but I have to go!” He finally stops teasing you, sighing as he replies with an ‘okay’, saying his goodbye. You scatter to put your phone back in your back pocket as you stand up, fast-walking to Mrs. Raya’s office. 

Damn him for making you feel this way. 

Your hand grip the door handle as you slowly twist it open, carefully pushing the white wooden door. The smell of rubbing alcohol instantly hits your nose as you step foot, your doctor instantly greeting you with a kind smile. 

“Y/n, good morning!” she chirps, welcoming you with open arms. 

“H-hi,” you smile, shutting the door. Even though Mrs. Raya is already in her 40’s, she still looks radiant and blooming. She has very white teeth and a gorgeous smile, brown chocolate skin, and luscious curly hair. She motions you to sit on the other side of the desk and you oblige, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“May I ask your age before we proceed?” she asks politely as she sits across from you. “My record of you here is,” she suddenly whips out a white folder and checks through papers, “not updated at all.” 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “I’m twenty.” 

Mrs. Raya nods and gathers a pad of paper in front of her to write on. She starts teaching you all about the contraceptive pills and how it can affect your body and its possible side effects. But most of the time you were tapping your foot on the ground, fiddling your fingers together in nervousness as you try to calm down. You were acting like such a child, yet all you can think about is Taehyung. Your eyes disconnect from your doctor's gaze and they land on the white desk. 

You were still on Cloud 9 from the previous incident, thinking about the deep timbre of his voice. 

“Miss Y/n,” her voice suddenly snaps you back into reality. “Are you even listening?” she asks with knitted brows. 

“I'm sorry,” you quickly apologize, stopping your foot from drumming on the tiles. 

Mrs. Raya sighs while intertwining her hand together. “Please listen, Y/n. I know it's too early in the morning for this but this is very important. I recommend giving you pills, unless…” 

You gawk at her with wide eyes, “Unless?” 

“Unless you're up for IUD?”

“Uh no, thank you,” you quickly deny. You learned what IUD is and what it does during high-school health classes and to be honest, you were just scared of the procedure – even though it's the most safer option. Plus you had no guts to do it. 

Inserting a little hook-looking device up your uterus? Nope. Not for you. 

“Okay, okay,” she immediately acknowledges and stands up, facing her back to you. She ponders to her array of cabinets, going through all kinds of boxes. “Do you have classes right after?” she asks. 

You hum, scanning around the room to find a clock anywhere. Your eyes land to a small desk clock to your left, reading 7:28 am. “Yes, I do.” 

“Let's get started, then.” 

~

“You fucking bitch.”

Olivia’s voice suddenly made your body jump as she sits on the bench in front of you. You cover your mouth with your right hand, muffling your laugh. 

“It’s not my fault that I had a dream like that!” You tolerate, watching how she rolls her eyes. 

“I’m not mad about the fact that I was a stripper, heck – thank you I’ll accept the job. But just know that if everything goes to shit and I turn broke, I’m using your money to get a butt implant.” 

“My money?” you smirk, “I don’t know what you’re talk–” 

“Oh, stop that Y/n. You know what I mean.”

You giggle as you give her some of your food. The cafeteria was filled with noisy seniors whereas they were getting ready for their graduation pictures. Girls were doing each others’ makeup while the boys were sharing hair gel. You had been watching them chit-chat with each other for the past ten minutes while you waited for Olivia to arrive. You can't wait for the end of the school year to arrive. 

“Moving on. Will you go to Yoongi’s party with me?” 

You slam your hand on the table, eyes wide, “Liv! You know what happened to me when I went to one of his parties last time. I'm not going to another party.” 

Olivia pouts, pushing her brown hair back away from her face, “Pleaaaaase? I promise I’ll stay with you! I won’t leave your side, I swear! You know how iconic Yoongi’s parties are before the year-end. He holds them annually!” 

“Yeah, and I tend to run away from it. C’mon, Liv. I don’t want to drink like that anymore.” 

You suddenly remember Taehyung’s voice ringing in your head, how he strictly reminded you not to drink so much but you didn’t comply. You wonder how you’ll survive a massive gathering if you can’t even stop yourself from drinking too much at a fucking pool party. 

“I mean, you can choose not to drink.” She simply states, stealing your unfinished sandwich. 

Snorting, you say sarcastically, “Oh yeah and I’ll read a book while at it.” 

“Y/n…” Olivia frowns. There was a ten seconds silence before you finally replied. Rolling your eyes, you throw your hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay, Jesus…” 

She instantly holds your hands while an excited squeal leaves her lips. Her eyes turn into little slits, waving your arms left and right. She was such a child! “Yay, thank you, thank you!” 

“You’re so lucky I’m your best friend.” You blankly stare at her. “Just don’t get me wasted.” 

She gives you a thumbs up, smiling as she flashes you her teeth, “You got it!” 

You and Olivia were walking alongside the soccer field to go to the main building for your next periods. Hugging your binder closer to your chest, you watch your school’s group of athletes having their training, their coach yelling at them while soccer balls fly across the field. 

Suddenly, you spot a familiar looking face. You squint your eyes, slowing down for a second while you grip Olivia’s arm. 

“I didn’t know Park Jimin plays soccer,” you mumble, watching how he pushes his black hair back, tilting his head upwards. Jimin high-fives a teammate with a big smile. 

Olivia chuckles as she tugs on your arm and forces you to walk faster, “He does! You really don’t know anything, do you?” 

You give her a disgusted expression, opening your mouth to retaliate but she immediately cuts you off. “Hey! Remind you that i’m a top stu–”

 “Hey! Park Jimin!” Olivia starts to wave frantically, getting Jimin’s full attention. 

Starting to panic, you try to block her view by stepping in front of her, trying to force her arm down. “Liv! No, don’t! I was just asking!” Olivia jumps up and down, flailing her arms around and she looks like a huge clown. Grunting, you can't help but laugh at her actions, “Olivia! “

But your efforts are useless when you hear Jimin’s reply. “What?!” He yells. You slowly turn around and there he was, walking to you and Olivia. Your shoulders slump, wanting to slap your best friend yet you keep your composure. 

“Y/n here says hi!” She giggles. 

You quickly wave your hands in front of you, faking a smile, “Uh, no. S-She’s just messing with you.” 

Jimin comes closer with a smug look on his face, crossing his arms together. Your eyes involuntarily checks him out, eyeing him from top to bottom. He looks so different from when you last saw him. Your gaze flies down to his thighs, eyebrows knitting together when you see how muscular and thick it was. You gulp. Jimin looks very well-put in his uniform too, even though he was covered in sweat. 

“Y/n?” Jimin’s voice snaps you back. He laughs at your widened eyes, “You good?” 

“Yeah.” You state. 

“Good.” 

No one talks for a while and the awkward silence kills you. You look down to the floor as you try to find the right words to say without sounding like an idiot. “Anyway,” Oliva breaks the tension, “You remember her right? The one that acted like a ragdoll when drunk during Yoongi’s party?” 

You groan, “Olivia,” an exhausted sigh leaves your mouth, “leave it alone.” 

Jimin grins at you as he lifts a single brow up, “Of course I do.” 

“Please don’t. Pretend that it didn’t happen please?” you say, hearing Olivia giggle behind you and you want nothing more than to hit her with your binder. 

“Aw, why?” he suddenly walks closer until there is a three-feet distance between the two of you. “You’re cute though.”

Your breath hitches up as your jaw gapes, his words shocking you. You shake your head, laughing nervously. “Ah, heh, t-thank you?” You grab Olivia’s hand and you start to walk away from him, “S-See you around Jimin!” 

“See you.” He sends you a playful wink, causing you to jolt your head forward in surprise. What the hell was that?! 

Jimin watches as you force your best friend to run, dragging her behind you. He laughs and shakes his head side to side, jogging back to his teammates. Hoseok furrows his eyebrows as he seemingly watched everything that had just happened. 

“What’s up with them?” he nods in your direction. Hoseok sees how you accidentally drop your binder on the ground, hearing your loud grunt as Olivia laughs. 

“Remember Y/n from Yoongi’s pool party?” he starts. Hoseok hums, “The girl we played beer pong with?” Jimin tilts his head to the side for a second as he rests his hands on his hips. 

“Yeah. She’s hot.” 

Hoseok smirks, “You know what to do.” 

Jimin feels himself getting hyped up from the idea. He starts to jump up and down, warming himself up when they hear their coach blow his whistle. “Can’t wait for the party.” 

~

You were in your microbiology class when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Looking around the laboratory room to know if your professor can see you, you reach down to your jeans and unlock your phone. 

Taehyung [2:12 pm] - Justin will pick you up. Do you go off at 3 today? 

Damn, he didn’t even say a single hi? You chew on your bottom lip, using your thumbs to type a reply. 

You [2:12 pm] - Yes. Where am I going? 

Taehyung [2:12 pm] - My office, angel. We have unfinished business. 

Your heart suddenly pounds faster from the text. Was he referring to…? 

Deciding to play with him a little, you giggle. 

You [2:13 pm] - Oh, we do?

You [2:13 pm] - I wasn’t informed… 

Taehyung, on the other side of the screen, smirks devilishly. He tuts as he sends a reply. 

Taehyung [2:13 pm] - Act like that one more time and let’s see where it takes you, Y/n.

You [2:14 pm] - To your bedroom I hope 

Suddenly, you see a hand slamming down on your table and you quickly disregard your phone back to your pocket. “I’m s-sorry professor…” you stutter, wide eyes gawking at your teacher. His eyes flash you a warning, “Who are you talking to, hm? Is he more important than this?” 

“No,” you shake your head, wincing from the harsh tone of his voice. 

“Focus, Y/n.” 

You nod, getting back to where you were. You turn on the switch for the microscope, sighing to yourself. How can you focus when Taehyung’s words were the only thing clouding your mind? 

Walking to the parking lot after a long, productive day at campus, it was concerning you that you can’t find anyone that’s called Justin around. Besides – your initial plan of stopping every adult-looking male and asking if their name is Justin and if they’re looking for a woman called Y/n was ridiculous. 

Your shoes clad on the rough concrete of the pathway, the cool breeze blowing your hair away from your face. You notice a dark-haired man in a suit walking up to you and it was definitely clear that he looks like he works for a millionaire. You smile, trying to appear kind. 

“Y/n?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” you giggle nervously. There were students walking past and were looking at the two of you with a confused expression, skeptical. 

“My name is Justin, I’m Kim Taehyung’s PA. He told me to pick you up and head straight to the office.” He suddenly starts to walk and you follow behind him. Why is everyone so strict these days? 

“Oh, I know. H-He told me,” you chirp, hoping you'll get a reply back but there was none. You follow his footsteps in silence, staring at his black loafers until he stops in front of a black shiny Mercedes. Your jaw drops, feeling like your eyes have been blessed by such a hot-looking car that costs triple your rent. 

Justin opens the passenger side door for you and you enter with a thanks. The car smells so expensive, it has a lot of buttons that make your fingers itch to press. Once he starts the engine, the car roars loudly and it is enough for you to giggle in amusement. He mumbles “seatbelt”, and you do what you were told. 

“So, uh,” you try to make a conversation, “Do you perhaps, o-own this car?” you ask politely as possible. 

Justin smirks the tiniest bit and shakes his head, “Nope. Mr. Kim’s.” 

You place your bag comfortably on your lap while your mind goes back to the time where Taehyung showed you his collection of high-end cars. You weren’t surprised. 

The ride was complete silence, the cold air conditioning of the car hitting your exposed skin while you stared outside the window. You suddenly wonder if Justin had met every single one of Taehyung’s past flames, picking them up just like what he was doing now. Was he always asked to buy Taehyung's partner's clothes just like the time you stayed over at his house? Frowning, there was an uncomfortable feeling building up your chest. No, you can’t be jealous. You’re not in a place to be, right? 

“Hey, is it okay if I can ask you something?” your voice was soft-spoken, glancing at him. 

“Sure.” He simply replies. 

“How long have you been working for Taehyung?” 

Justin suddenly snickers and you can see the creases on the sides of his lips. “As early as he started his company.” 

Your eyes grow bigger, he was working for Taehyung for so long! He must know everything about him… 

“Do you know how many relationships he had?” You gasp at your own sentence, pursing your lips shut as you slam a hand over it. Justin laughs, his shoulders bouncing up and down. “I’m so sorry!” you apologize. 

“No, please. But I can’t answer your question, Y/n.” 

Hanging your head down, you feel a little ashamed. “But,” he continues, your eyebrows lifting up. You gaze at him with expecting eyes, “This is the first time I’m meeting you in person, and I must say that I’m quite shocked when he told me that I was picking up a girl from college. You look very young.”

“I-Is that a bad thing?” you gulp, “I’m twenty.” 

“No! Not at all, Y/n. Don’t get me wrong,” he chuckles, “It’s a good thing!” 

Nodding your head in acceptance, your lips curve in a smile. “Thanks.” But then, an abrupt memory crosses your mind. 

Isn’t that what Marie – Taehyung’s housekeeper – said to you when you first went to his house? 

‘“It’s a shocker though. It’s the first time Taehung has ever brought a young-looking girl into his house.” 

What was up with everyone being so appalled? Was he usually into older girls? Crissy doesn’t even look that old… 

You had to ask him. You were desperate for an answer. 

~

Stepping back inside the building made a lot of flashbacks to reoccur in your brain. All the things you and Taehyung did, inside the elevator, inside his office up at the 20th floor, everything was coming back to you. Almost everyone was dressed in business-formal outfits and you’ve never felt more out of place with your sweater and black converse. 

But your body freezes when you spot the blonde-haired woman that was occupying your thoughts a couple of minutes ago. Based off of the irritated expression on her face and the blank stare that the lady at the front desk wore, they were having an argument. 

Crissy sees you and smirks to herself. 

You were stunned when she suddenly strides over to you and harshly grabs your arm, pulling you to her side. Your heart beats faster. 

“She’s with me! You’re seeing Taeyung, right!?” she exclaims, her high-pitched voice ringing in your head. 

“No, I’m not.” you roll your eyes, but Crissy only grips your arm tighter. You wince in pain, struggling to escape but she just pulls you closer. “Stop lying. We both know you have nothing else to do here but hug his legs.”

What the fuck is she talking about? 

The exhausted lady ignores Crissy and turns her attention to you, “Can I confirm your name?”

“Y/n ___,” you say, and she reads something on her monitor and nods once. “Kim Taehyung has ordered you to meet him on the twentieth floor. Please go ahead.” She motions her hand to the right, directing you to the elevator, and you smile gratefully. 

Crissy gasps, eyes turning into little slits as she looks at the desk lady in shock, “How come she goes and not me? I know Taehyung myself and I don’t think I need his permission!” 

“I'm sorry ma'am but that's not how it works here. We have strict rules and you're not allowed to see the boss if you have no schedules for it.”

Crissy was speechless, not knowing what to say. You tried your hardest not to giggle as you slowly walked away from her. 

“But this is important!”

The lady finally snaps, clicking her tongue. “If you don't go out of this building now I'm gonna call the guards to escort you out.”

You didn't hear what Crissy’s reply was because you were already making your way to the elevator which was thankfully vacant. “Ah, finally,” you sigh. What was Crissy doing here? And what does she want from Taehyung?

You were about to press the close button until you hear heels clicking against the marble floor. Looking straight ahead, your eyes widen when you see Crissy making her way to you with a smirk on her face. She was walking fast, making sure to catch up. Your breathing gets heavy and heavy, immediately pressing the button furiously - praying that the doors would close faster. 

You were holding your breath - you can’t be stuck in an elevator with her! No way! 

“Please please please,” you mumble under your breath, lips pouting when the doors won’t close faster as you wanted it to be. Crissy has a mocking expression on her face, inserting her hand between the doors so that it wouldn’t close on her. Quickly, you step to the very corner of the elevator, hugging your body as you felt intimidated by her appearance. 

“Oh, Y/n,” she shakes her head side to side, laughing to herself. Crissy presses the 20th button using her baby blue acrylic nails, whipping her hair. “You think a stubborn little lady at the front desk will stop me?” 

You’ve never wanted to pull her hair so bad until now. 

Crissy studies your figure up and down, a sour look on her face as if she just ate a lemon. “You’re going to see him looking like that?” she scoffs, “Couldn’t you at least dress up like me?” She looks down at her outfit, wearing a black skin-tight dress that hugged her perfect body. 

You look at her through the reflective walls of the elevator, staring at her hazel eyes, “At least I don’t have to try to get his attention.” 

The brattiness in you jumped out, and Crissy gasps from your sentence, clearly offended. Crossing your arms together, it was your turn to rake her body, “I don’t have to be pathetic like you.” 

“Me?! I’m the pathetic one?” she suddenly walks closer to you, further cornering your body into the wall. You gulp the big lump in your throat. Crissy was taller than you, making you look up at her as her towers over you. “Coming from a broke college student?” 

Fuck. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Crissy backs up a little to take a good look at you. She lifts her eyebrows up, her stance defensive as you just stand there, hanging your head low. You can’t look at her face, you were mortified. 

“You don’t deserve Taehyung, Y/n. He doesn’t need someone like you. He needs me.” 

She whips her blonde hair again, moving it to her right shoulder while she looks at her manicured fake nails. She continues to argue, “He needs someone experienced. I know for a fact that that’s what he likes.” 

You hold yourself back. You knew better than to fight her. Even though her sharp, cruel words were hurting you - hurting you so bad, you keep your guard up. 

Crissy leans down until she is face to face with you, cooing when she sees the fear in your eyes. “Aww, look at you. What a weak little thing. You’re delusional if you think Taehyung even likes you.” 

“I didn’t ask for him in the first place.” You hiss, “He came up to me.” 

“Of course he did! He wanted to help a poor, pruney little virgin – that’s why.” 

Oh no she didn’t. Your hands curl up in tight fists on your sides, eyes narrowing at her as you feel your nerves firing up. How dare she call you that when she doesn’t know a single thing about you?! 

“You don’t know me.” You say through gritted teeth, “You have no right to say that.” 

Crissy smiles and shrugs her shoulders, “I’m allowed to have my own opinion!” 

You swear you just felt your head hurt. “What are you even ta– you know what, whatever.” Rolling your eyes, you turn away from her. Your nails dig into the skin of your palm, surely getting red. You hated each second as the time passed by. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” she says, sizing you up. Crissy lifts an eyebrow, waiting for your response. 

“I don’t know.” You say, closing your eyes shut in annoyance. “How about you? What do you want from him?” 

Before she can answer, the elevator dings, signalling the doors open and Crissy was the first one to step out. You follow behind her, the irritating clicks of her heels were making your head spin. She answers, a smirk evident from the tone of her voice, “Trying to get back what’s truly mine.” 

You felt your heart crush into a million pieces. 

“You have a boyfriend, Crissy!” 

“And?” You feel sorry for Taehyung, and sorry for Crissy’s boyfriend. 

However, you stop your tracks when the door going to Taehyung’s office swings open, and he absolutely snaps when he sees her. 

Crissy smiles, about to say something but Taehyung shuts her up, immediately backing her against the hallway. He slams the door shut with a loud bang, making you jump. Taehyung was completely furious, nostrils slightly flaring as he held her wrists tightly. Crissy winces, but she doesn’t show the pain because she keeps a straight, smiling face. “Tae–” 

“Shut up. Why the fuck are you here, huh?” 

“Calm do–” 

“No. Answer the fucking question! How did you get up here?” 

Your chest tightens, afraid of Taehyung’s sudden change of aura. He was raising his voice at her, and you haven’t seen this side of him. You feel yourself getting small, holding your hands together behind your back as you watch them with wide, afraid eyes. 

“Taehyung, they let me in of course! Why wouldn’t they let someone who previously worked here inside the building? I wanted to visit you!” 

Taehyung growls animalistically, removing the grip he has on her wrists and instead places his hands on her shoulders. He grips her firmly, eyes dark in anger. He towers over her while Crissy can’t push him away even if she tries to. “Stop. Fucking. Lying,” Taehyung fumes. 

“It’s true!” 

Taehyung shakes his head and suddenly whips his head over his shoulder to look at you. You look like a deer in headlights, frozen in your place as he burns holes into your eyes. 

“Tell the truth.” He states firmly. You feel your throat drying up, your mouth gaping open but no words seem to come out. “I-I, uh.” 

Taehyung clenches his jaw, waiting for a reply. It was obvious that his patience was bearing thin. “Tell me the fucking truth, Y/n!” 

You remember his words ringing in your head - not to lie to him. It was the one thing he despised the most. 

“S-She,” you clear your throat, fiddling with your fingers in a habit of nervousness, “I don’t know, the lady at the front desk told her to exit… but she sneaked inside the elevator with me before I can close the doors.” 

You felt ashamed, even though you did absolutely nothing wrong. Looking down on the floor, you were unable to meet Taehyung’s harsh, angry eyes. You just wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry from how intimidated you are. 

Suddenly, Jungkook appears from inside the office and chuckles as he sees the situation that was currently happening. He gives Crissy an ugly glare, walking up to you. “Hey, hey,” he purrs, holding your body, “Don’t be scared, hm?” 

You slowly tilt your head up, looking at him with wavering eyes. He smiles, his dimples peeking out, “Don’t worry.” 

Taehyung bites the inside of his cheek as he watches Jungkook caress your arms, the closeness making his stomach turn. This angers him further, turning his attention back to Crissy who was smirking the entire time. 

“I hope you know this is your last straw, Crissy.” She was about to retort but Taehyung was faster to cut her off, “I’m placing you on our blocklist. And if I ever see you here, at my house, or if you even think about getting near Y/n, I won’t hesitate to place a restraining order against you. You won’t be able to see me – or Y/n – ever again.” 

You hear everything he says, sighing in relief. Why didn’t he do this much earlier?! 

Crissy has her mouth open although nothing comes out. And by chance, you hear rushing footsteps down the hallway and you turn to look to see who it was. Justin has called for security and the guards rush to grab a hold of Crissy. She tries to escape, pulling her arms away but the bulky, muscular men were obviously stronger. She yells in frustration, “Fuck you, Kim Taehyung!” 

Taehyung scoffs bitterly, watching the guards escort her down the hall until they were finally nowhere near in sight. She was gone at last. 

There was an uncomfortable feeling, something you can’t explain. It was so weird and new to see Taehyung like that, he was obviously hurting her yet Crissy looked as if it didn’t affect her. You didn’t like that side of him. You tried your hardest to not cry, holding your tears back as you squeezed your eyes closed. 

“Angel,” Taehyung’s voice gently calls out for you, and you can hear his footsteps coming closer to you. 

“Jungkook, please excuse us.” He tells, and Jungkook nods his head knowingly. He understands the situation and walks away. 

Your body jumps when you feel Taehyung’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you into a tight, warm hug. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying your body side to side as he waits for you to calm down. “Angel,” he whispers, “you’re good now. You’re okay.” 

“Hm?” he places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts your head up. He pouts when he sees your glossy, tearful eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m so sorry, Y/n.” 

“You scared me.” You whisper, voice slightly cracking. Your heart was still pounding while Taehyung sighs. 

“I know, fuck. I know baby. I won’t scare you like that ever again, I was just s-so angry and I couldn’t stop myself. I won’t ever talk to you like that, understand me?” 

“Yes, Tae.” 

Sniffing, you rest your cheek against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. The warmth of his body radiates into yours, slowly calming you down. It was like you saw a different person just a minute ago. You can’t speak, not having the energy to do so. 

“Let’s go home, okay?” He says, and you nod your head. You want nothing else than to be alone with him. 

~

You puff out a large huff of breath once the two of you have stepped foot inside his house, Taehyung locking the front door. He removes your school bag and places it neatly on a nearby counter. Without wasting any time, he suddenly swoops you off your feet and carries you bridal-style. 

“Tae!” you squeal, the nickname making him blush. He starts to walk up the long flight of stairs up to his room while you tightly hold onto his shoulders, trying not to fall back. 

Once you both arrive in his room, he carefully rests you down on the soft comfort of his king-sized bed. Taehyung takes off his suit jacket and you watch him put it on a loveseat’s armrest. He takes his shoes off, instantly feeling butterflies when he flashes you his winning smile. 

God, was he always this hot?

“What are you doing?” you whisper, palms slowly getting sweaty as Taehyung runs a hand through his black hair. Taehyung feels something primal inside him, his mind racing with lewd thoughts while your body unconsciously writhes on the bed. Why are you like this? Why do you always have to look so pure every time he's about to ruin you? 

You watch him walk over to his closet, a smirk glued on his face as he rummages through his belongings. Taehyung bites his lip as he goes through all of the toys he's bought at the sex store a few days ago. He wonders what he will use next on you. 

Whips? Floggers? No, he's not going to punish you. 

Anal beads? The hot pink butt plug he chose for you? Not today. 

Rope? Maybe next time. 

“Ahh,” he muses, releasing a dark chuckle when he finds something he can use. You can't see anything besides his broad back facing you, yet you can hear how he laughs devilishly. 

“Tae?”

His heart clenches from hearing the soft tone of your voice, just like a little kitten's meow. Fuck, he didn't know that a sound like that can turn him on so much. 

He swiftly turns around for a moment, observing you with a raised brow. He stands as if dripping in dominance, his arms crossed together. Your eyes can't seem to connect with his because you're afraid that you'll literally melt beneath his hot gaze. The atmosphere seems to thicken, your mouth going dry when you took note of the large tent underneath his pants. You unwillingly close your legs together, biting your lip as you feel your pussy throb.

Taehyung clenches his jaw at the sight, “Hm?”

You immediately shake your head side to side, a blush forming your cheeks. “N-Nothing…” 

He abruptly walks up to you and crawls on the bed, moving up until he is face to face with you. You suddenly can't breathe. He lowers himself until you can feel his crotch against your covered cunt, feeling how hard he is. A moan goes past your lips, “O-oh, Tae…” 

Suddenly, he wraps his big hand around your throat, squeezing it tightly enough to choke you. The feeling was different than you expected, it feels good. He snickers, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Tae? Is that my name, hm?” 

“A-ahh,” he squeezes your throat harder, your pussy clenching as you can confirm yourself dripping onto your panties. 

“Answer, baby girl, or I swear to fucking god,” Taehyung taunts with a growl, grinding his crotch harder against you. He tries to calm himself down before he can go overboard, before he goes past your limits. And by the way you were looking at him so innocently, so purely – was making it harder for him. 

‘Calm down, Taehyung.’ He thinks to himself. 

“I'm s-sorry, sir.” You purr, staring up at him with lust-blown eyes. 

“That’s right,” he grunts, fluttering his eyes close for a moment as he drives his hips a little bit harder. His cock was aching, begging to be released. 

Your hands grip on the white sheets, not knowing where to place them. Your chest was heaving up and down as you feel your stomach turning, your mind hazy while the sensation was already so much for you. His deep groans and hums were making you lose your sanity.

“Arms up,” he commands, and you do just that. He grins while he pushes your sweater up and throws it somewhere on the plush carpeted floor. 

Taehyung cocks his head to the side for a second, eyes obviously ogling your pretty chest. He bites his lip from the sight of your bra, the cute pastel pink color somehow made him hornier. You cheeks blush horribly, wanting to cover your face but Taehyung was quicker to hold them up, grabbing your wrists in one hand. “Nuh-uh, baby girl. Let me see this adorable face, hm?” 

You can’t look straight in his eyes. If you will, you’d absolutely crumble beneath him. Taehyung lowers his head down until his lips come in contact with your collarbones, peppering wet and seductive kisses all over your chest. You can feel that he was smirking. Goosebumps arise from your skin when he suddenly licks a wet stripe from the base of your neck and up to your jaw, sensitive as you feel his hot breath. 

You can’t help but whimper, tugging on your hands but Taehyung holds your wrists tighter. 

“If you keep whimpering like that, baby girl,” you gasp when he bites your shoulder, “You’re gonna make it harder for the both of us.” 

What does that even mean? You look at him in utter confusion although he only chuckles. Taehyung stands back up to get something from his closet. You were already sweating and he’s only getting started!

“Remove your pants for me, angel.” 

Again, not wanting to disobey him, you fumble with the buttons of your jeans and you tug the clothing down as fast as you can, throwing it down on the floor. 

Your eyes widen when Taehyung suddenly, without any delay, holds out two pairs of steel handcuffs and a pink leather – choker looking thing – with a black rubber ball attached to it. 

What the fuck was that?! 

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip as he studies your reaction. He places the toys on the bedside table before he strips himself in only his boxers. Unwillingly, you lick your dry lips from the sight of the prominent outline of his big cock. 

“Sir,” you mewl, eyes drooping down as if begging for something, “W-What’s that?” You point at the leather toy, your heart suddenly pounding out of your chest. 

He kneels on either side of your hips, sitting on your lap as he grabs the toy. His smirk never wears off from his face and you were sure that he was utterly cruel. You feel small under him, not having any control. 

Yet that’s what you like. 

“This is called a gag ball, angel.” He utters in an authoritarian tone, looking straight at your glistening orbs. “It’s to keep your pretty mouth shut.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, the toy intimidating you. The ball was so big though! “Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable?” 

Taehyung leans down on your ear and chuckles deeply, the vibrations going straight down to your dripping core, “That’s the fun of it all, baby. Letting yourself completely submit to me, allowing me to play and torture your body, giving me all the control. It’s what you signed up for, isn’t it baby?” 

Gulping the huge lump in your throat, you nod once.

“Do I have your consent to all of this?” 

“Yes sir.” You say wholeheartedly. You weren’t merely doing all of this for his own pleasure, but for yourself too. You want to explore a lot more and discover new things about yourself that you wouldn’t figure out without his help. Taehyung’s a person you can trust, you’ve come to learn that. 

“Good girl,” he growls, satisfied from your words while his hands reach to grab the handcuffs. “Pick a safe word.” 

Oh god. What will he do to you that requires a safe word? 

Your mind fumbles with random words until you settle with something; “Coffee,” you grin. 

Taehyung hums, nodding as he gets the reason why you chose that word, “Very good, angel.” 

Hearing the metal clinking with each other as he cuffs your wrists to the headboard was making your body tremble. You were so used to gripping on the sheets, on his hair, wherever. And allowing him to remove that sense of touch away from you will make it exciting for him. Taehyung feels his dick tremble when he finally finishes cuffing you, forehead creasing from the hot sight. 

“Shit, baby girl,” he grunts, “Try to pull on it.” 

The metal clinks on the headboard and it slightly stings your skin. Taehyung brushes his hair back, “Mhmm, that’s good. Gonna bruise your wrists – wouldn’t it?” he mockingly asks you as if he doesn’t already know the answer. Before, he used fuzzy handcuffs on you and it didn’t hurt your wrists that much, yet now without the furry material, you were a hundred percent sure that it’s going to mark your skin. 

“Yeah,” you mewl, “It’s gonna hurt.” 

“Aww, you’ll get used to it angel. You wouldn’t even feel the pain when my cock’s pounding in and out your tight pussy.” 

Taehyung uses both hands to grope your breasts, feeling your hard nipples poking up the thin, flimsy material of your bra. He growls and as if something snaps inside of him, he rips your bra in two. 

“Ta– sir!” you gasp, eyes wide. He doesn’t waste any time and he dives his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking harshly as his tongue flicks vigorously. “Oh, mnghh,” you tug on the cuffs and you hiss from the stinging pain. “S-Sir!” 

“I’ll buy you a fucking new one,” he moans, “A much sexier one.” 

He twists your abandoned nipple with his thumb and index finger, your back arching upwards when he applies a tight pressure on your sensitive bud. He growls, licking around your areola. “A-Ahh, sir! Fuck…” 

“Like that?” he mutters teasingly, raising a brow at you as he runs his tongue along your boobs, running it to the valley of your breasts until it reaches your other nipple. He gives it the same treatment, sucking harshly, nibbling sharply. The pain makes your body arch, arms tugging on the restraints again and you wanted to cry.  

“Ohhh, baby,” he fakes being sincere, your cute whimpers and whines feeding the utter dominance in him. It was only getting him riled up even more. “That hurts, huh? Mhmm does it hurt baby?” 

Before you can reply, he does it again – but harder. He digs his teeth on your abused bud and bites on it, rolling it along his teeth as his tongue flicks it again and again. “Aahh! Oh my god!” Taehyung growls and tugs it upward, and you can feel your body burn in pain and pleasure as if you just got electrocuted. He releases your nipple, letting it snap back to its original place.

You whine loudly, your hand instinctively wanting to grope your boob to ease the pain but the cuffs restricted. 

Taehyung throws you an evil smirk, “What is it, hm, little one? Wanna touch yourself?”

Nodding furiously, you beg with your eyes droopy, “Please,” you whisper. 

“Too fucking bad.” 

He grabs the gag and wraps it around your head, your eyes getting a little bit watery. Taehyung looks like a completely different person above you. If his normal self was already intimidating then imagine how he’d be now. He was like an animal, a predator playing with it’s prey before he digs in. You were scared for your life. 

“Open your mouth.” 

He places the ball at the anterior of your mouth and you thought that you’re supposed to put the whole thing in, but no. He instructs you to bite on the ball, leaving it half-inside your mouth. You furrow your brows, it wasn’t even that bad! You look up at him in confusion yet he only scoffs, knowing what you’re thinking about. Taehyung fondles with the clasp of the toy, and suddenly it gets tighter. 

You couldn’t bite on the ball anymore because it automatically feeds inside your mouth, forcing your jaw to slack as you struggle to breathe. You remind yourself to breathe through your nose.

Taehyung leans down and presses a tender, loving kiss on your forehead as he strokes your hair away from your face. “Hmm, is that okay angel? Not too tight?” 

You nod your head. Letting him know that you were alright. Even though you felt helpless, you’ve already completely submitted yourself to him and there’s no going back. 

“Good girl. Since you can’t speak anymore – I want you to kick me when it gets too rough for you, okay? Understood? And I’ll stop completely.” Taehyung breathes out the last sentence, eyeing you up and down like you were some delicious eye-candy. You look beautiful. 

You badly wanted to talk, to address him as ‘sir’ like you were taught to, but you guessed that this was part of everything. You nod fully. 

And with that, he pulls your soaked panties down wastes no time to push his long, slender middle finger in. 

Taehyung hears the handcuffs jingle and your muffled moans as he works his digit in and out, not giving you any time to adjust. “Be a big girl and take it.” He grunts, adding a second finger in. He stretches your walls out, doing scissoring motions as his eyes drink in the sight of your juices flowing out from your drenched hole and to the sheets. 

“Mmm, look at this pretty mess,” he chuckles, “So fucking wet for me already. I don’t even get to do anything and you’re already soaked.” 

Taehyung starts to fuck your cunt with his fingers. Wet, squelching sounds fill the air as your eyes roll to the back of your head. He fucks you knuckle-deep, making fast ‘come here’ motions as his fingers were in a quest to find your g-spot. 

You whimpered into the silicone ball, bucking your hips up as you feel more needier for his cock. You wanted to beg, to yell, but everything was preventing you from doing so. You can feel a layer of sweat form in your forehead and on your back, the air in the room getting hotter. 

“Mm, so tight baby,” he muses, “So tight around my fingers.” 

He dives down and circles your clit with his tongue, your nerves instantly firing up as the hairs on your skin stand from the intoxicating feeling. He smirks, sucking on your clit as his fingers finally found the spongy feeling of your g-spot. He focuses his fingers there, thrusting in and out as he flicks his tongue at an inhumane speed. Your wrists were burning from all of the pulling, hips trembling uncontrollably. 

Your mind gets dizzy in pleasure, moaning loudly when he unexpectedly prods a third finger inside. Three fingers stretch your walls out, your eyes closing shut tight while you yell into the ball. You feel a tight knot in your stomach already as Taehyung continues to abuse your poor cunt. 

“Stretch this pussy out nice and good for my dick,” he growls, “Yeah? You’re already close aren’t you?” 

You can’t even force yourself to nod as you remove all control from your body, letting him do whatever he wants to you. “Cum on my fingers, baby girl. C’mon, hm? Let me taste your cum.” 

Somehow his words send you over the edge, hearing him release deep grunts from the feeling of your walls tightening around his fingers. Your mind clouds in lust as the knot in your stomach snaps, finally gushing your cum out of your system. His fingers were coated in your thick juices when he pulled out, not hesitating to lick it clean. 

The sight was alluring, making your tummy twist. He keeps his eye contact with you and stares at you seductively, sending you a wink as he licks his fingers clean. “Taste so fucking delicious, baby girl.” 

Taehyung hovers his body above yours, whimpering when he starts to remove his boxers. You can never get used to his size. 

His cock was dripping in precum that oozes out of the angry, bulbous head, shaft thick and covered in prominent veins. Instinctively, your hips buck up in need and Taehyung chuckles, the vibrations resonating in his chest as he muses your reaction. 

Taehyung firmly grips his dick and strokes it a couple of times while he watches how your eyebrows dip down, toes curling. You’ve never felt so hungry and desperately his cock since right now. You throw your head back, the gag muffling your moans when he suddenly starts to rub his length through your wet folds, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive clit. Taehyung mutters curses under his breath, your legs twitching. 

“Fuck, what a sensitive little angel I have right here,” he snarls, slapping your pussy a couple of times. “How can you handle my cock then, huh?” 

“Mmmph, s-sir,” you try to say, batting your eyelashes at him. He cocks an eyebrow up, cupping your throbbing pussy with his large hand, “Yeah? Can you handle it?” He leans down and whispers darkly in your ear, “Can you take this cock?” 

Nodding up and down, “Mhmm!” 

“Good girl, baby.” He kisses your forehead delicately and hums, pressing his tip against your entrance. Closing your eyes shut, Taehyung firmly grasps your hips with one hand. “Mmm, that’s right baby, breathe for me, breathe…” 

Your nails dig into the skin of your palm as you feel your walls stretch from his thick cock. You let out a throaty moan, legs quivering while he tries to calm you down by scattering kisses all over the crook of your neck. You pull on the handcuffs, your body arching back once again, his dick almost halfway in. He was so large, feeling him hit all of the unexplored nerves inside you. 

“Fuck, Y/n, your pussy’s so tight, shit.” His words paired with that deep, raspy voice was making your head spin in pleasure, wanting nothing more than to tug on his hair or scratch his back, but the goddamn cuffs weren’t letting you. You can’t even speak coherently! You feel so good, yet the stretch was burning your cunt. 

Your pussy flutters tightly around his dick when he goes even deeper than before, filling you up. Taehyung suddenly growls while shutting his eyes for a brief moment. And the second he reopens them, there’s a much darker shade of black in his eyes, irises blown out. “Stop fucking clenching so tightly or else. Do you wanna get punished, huh? Y/n?” 

You shake your head no, mewling as you try to relax your muscles. 

“Good. You wouldn’t want that anyway.” 

Before you can even comprehend his reply, he pulls his dick all the way out – leaving just the very tip in, before he shoves all of his length inside. 

“Aaaah, fuck!” You can feel his dick throb inside of you as he starts to pound your cunt, pulling all the way out and slamming it back in. Hearing Taehyung growl right above your ear made the butterflies in your stomach flutter furiously, your hole clenching around him so tightly. He mutters deep mhmm’s and grunts, lost in the feeling of your wet walls. 

He was thrusting at an unbelievable speed, hips moving like it was made to fuck. The pleasure was overwhelming, still so sensitive from your last orgasm and it wasn’t hard for you to grow into another climax. You involuntarily close your legs shut but he places his hand on your thigh, forcing it back open. “Don’t.” He groans, “Don’t fucking close your legs.” 

Whimpering into the toy, you stare at him with glossy eyes while his dick hits your g-spot. “R-Right there!” you yell in a muffled voice, earning a harsh, deep thrust from him. 

Taehyung keeps fucking you into the mattress while he thinks about how absolutely torn you looked. Underneath him, cuffed up and gagged. He couldn’t believe that he finally got you in this position, after all his dirty, filthy fantasies. He was so fucking excited that everything he wanted turned into a reality. The way that your eyes looked as he pounded you was driving him wild. Your big, innocent-looking eyes just staring at him while he destroys your cunt - the contradiction of it all - was so amusing to him. 

Something about you that he couldn’t explain. You were ethereal. Like an unhealthy drug for him. He was addicted to you. 

“You like that baby girl, yeah? Like my big cock slamming into you?” he muses, feeling your walls tightening around him. He chuckles when you struggle to answer, noticing strings of saliva dripping down your chin. He fucks you deeper. 

“Ohh, what a messy little angel i’ve got here…” he leans down and licks the saliva off of your chin, making your body chill from the surprising action. “Drooling all over herself.” 

And it was there again, your climax coming faster than the previous one. Your legs shake as you try to hold it in but it was all too much, happening too fast. You cum all over his cock without the energy of saying anything, your whole body trembling as the sheets rustle underneath you. Taehyung gasps, furrowing his forehead. He can’t move or a brief moment from how tight you were squeezing his dick. 

“Fuck, cum baby, that’s right. Make a fucking mess on my dick.” 

You feel so euphoric, never feeling this amount of pleasure in your entire life. Your vision blacks out for a quick second, seeing little white stars while he continues to thrust his hips a little bit slower this time. 

Taehyung can’t seem to take in anymore so he reaches his hands behind your head and unclasps the gag, removing it from you. You inhale a large breath as you can finally breathe properly. “Sir,” you whimper, your energy drained out, “S-So sensitive.” 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos, removing his cock out as your cum drips down to your asshole and down to the sheets. He was still rock hard, and you feel bad for it. “Don’t worry angel, c’mere, let me fuck your throat.” 

You nod, looking up with weary eyes while he straddles your chest, placing the tip of his angry-red cock right above your lips. You open your mouth immediately, making him chuckle, “Good girl.” 

Taehyung pushes his cock past your lips and you instantly moan from the taste of your own cum. He throws his head back, holding onto the headboard as he starts to slowly thrust himself in and out. “Suck on it, angel. Use your tongue.” 

You hollow your cheeks the best that you can, slacking your jaw while you try to take his cock in the best that you can. He was so thick, the tangy-sweet taste of your own cum coating your tongue while you swirled around his tip. His deep moans and grunts were turning you on, encouraging you to do better. Taehyung stops halfway when your mouth chokes around his cock, gagging sounds make him roll his eyes back in bliss. He grabs a hold of your head and forces his dick a little bit deeper, the vibrations of your moans were electrifying his body. 

He quickly starts to fuck your mouth, shoving his length in and out like an animal. He wasn’t thinking clearly as he focuses on the sound of your whimpers and the feeling of your throat closing around him. His cock twitches, your tongue sliding against the underside of his shaft. Your saliva drips down to your chin again as you look up at him with watery eyes. He bites his lip from how hot you looked with his cock choking your mouth. 

“Fuck yeah, that mouth feels so good,” he gasps, “I’m gonna cum angel, gonna cum down that pretty throat.” 

The choking sounds were music to his ears, feeling your throat closing around him repeatedly until he finally spills his hot, sticky load down. Your eyes widen in shock and Taehyung pulls out, starting to stroke his length vigorously. Strings of cum come shooting out, coating your chest and a little bit on your face. You’ve never felt dirtier in your entire life. Taehyung moans out your name, drenching his cock to the very hilt. 

Taehyung never once judged you for who you are. In the beginning, you worried if you’ll ever even reach the expectations given to you. Being his submissive means letting him control your body and letting him do whatever he wants to you with consent. You wouldn’t think in your entire years of living that you’ll agree on something absurd like this. But as intimidating as he is, Taehyung happily gives you the ropes and helps you climb it. You love how he never lets you walk alone. He was always there to guide you – and you love him for that. 

But love? That’s a word holding so much weight. 

Even though you’re starting to learn how to be open and bold, there’s still one thing you’re afraid of. 

Catching feelings. 

You’re still just a normal college student! It’s normal! But when you’re with someone who’s constantly making you feel butterflies in your stomach and making you blush, someone who’s always taking care of you like nobody did – more than your parents did, and someone who makes you feel special – it’s hard not to fall for someone like that. Like Taehyung. And it’s so fucking scary to know if he ever loves you back. 

~

Thanks for reading and being patient! The taglist is closed, and I apologize if I couldn’t/forgot to add you <3

@taehyungmakesmeoof @cuddleyashlee @jkthethief @reflectionsthings @bangvateez @soft-pjimin @jiminiesthiccthighs @sugarkinky @allforjenrene @inutiledediscuter @hoeseokworld @tata951230 @bangtansubyeondan @bboop-bro @megasecretme @sjt-kpoplover  @pipwhale @fetchingtae @creepysweet @nama4 @cami–yg @nanna022 @honeyhyuckles @lightskintae @zimzimseulgi @bangtan-myhome @taehyungmakesmeoof @rain-fall-2019 @chvrcs @shreya-pjm @dubtae @a-florxscer @aphrotints @livorna @nerdylunagrl @phillixie @jjk-bunny @itskitten123 @jooniejune​ @kookie-and-sugar​ @zxlla​

#taehyung smut #btswritersguild #btsbookclub #btssmutcentral #btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #jungkook smut

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Article

Part 11 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You wake up after the big fight with Sebastian

Word Count: 1941

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was a new glass of water, your morning pills, and a banana on the bedside table.

You’d been so caught up in your fight that you hadn’t realized you’d forgotten to take your medicine. Sebastian, apparently, had noticed. And if he laid them out for you, it would seem he wanted you to continue your treatment.

Because he was a decent person. Because it was his fault you were here. Because he pitied you. As soon as people found out you had cancer, they immediately pitied you.

But that’s all it was.

Pity.

As soon as the treatment failed, or succeeded and you were recovered from surgery, he was sure to drop the divorce papers in your lap, give you a one way plane ticket to Salt Lake City, and tell you he hopes you have a good life.

It’s what any sane person would do.

It’s more than you deserved, to be honest. After everything you’d done in your life…

As you stared at the pills, you debated with yourself.

On one hand, you promised to fight. You promised to see this to the end.

But on the other hand… you knew your track record in life. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew how this would end. And it wasn’t going to end with surgery. It wasn’t going to end with you being cancer free. It wouldn’t even end in remission.

So who were you fucking kidding?

Carefully, you swung your legs out of the bed, ignored the pills, and quietly exited the room. Your bladder was insistent, and, much as you wanted to, you couldn’t hide out in the guest room all day.

As you washed your hands, you stared at yourself in the mirror.

You look like hell, he’d said. And he was right. You lost so much weight that your cheeks were sunken. Sure, cheekbones were sexy, but not like this.

You looked like death. That’s what he should have said. It would have been more accurate. More predictive.

Walking out of the bathroom, you wondered if you should start packing up your shit. Maybe when you told the nurses that you would see them on Monday, that would be the last lie you’d ever tell. From now on, you could tell the truth. You wouldn’t be around long enough to see the fallout that blunt truth would have.

“Hey,” Sebastian greeted, startling you. He was sitting on the guest bed. “You take your medicine yet?”

“No,” you stated, beginning your new truth-telling life. Besides, he could very well see you hadn’t taken the pills, since they were untouched on the bedside table.

He swept the pills into his hand, grabbed the glass of water, and walked over to where you’d frozen in the doorway. “Take ‘em. I grabbed some takeout. It might need to be heated up a bit, but I thought it’d be easy on your stomach.”

“Seb—”

“And I’ll give you my lawyer’s number so he can help you draw up whatever papers you need to give you peace of mind that I can’t be responsible for your debt. That way you can focus on your treatment.” He shoved the glass of water in your right hand and dumped the pills in your left.

“Seb—”

“I’m not arguing with you, Y/N. Take your medicine.”

His eyes were unrelenting, so you huffed a deep sigh and downed the pills.

“Sorry for jumping on you this morning,” he said quietly.

“You don’t—”

“Shut up and let me apologize, Y/N. You were right. I didn’t really understand what I signed up for, but I don’t regret anything. I should have tried to talk to you before I yelled. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured.

“No, it’s not. I was wrong, Y/N. I just… When I saw all that, I got scared, okay? And I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair of me.”

What could you say to that? You nodded, hoping he’d accept that response.

Luckily, he did. You let him lead you out to the kitchen and sat on a stool while he set to work heating up the takeout.

“There’s something else we need to talk about,” he hedged.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You’d expected him to explain, but he didn’t say another word until your food was in front of you. Even then, he gave you an expectant look and waited until you took a bite. Once you swallowed, he was satisfied enough to pull out his phone and click around for a bit. “I’m surprised we’ve kept it a secret for so long, but word’s out. Someone saw us in Vegas and took a picture.”

He slid his phone across the counter to you. Right there on Entertainment Weekly’s website was a grainy picture of you, Sebastian, and Elvis in what was unmistakably a Vegas wedding.

“At least they didn’t get a picture of your face, so no one knows who you are.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” he agreed.

Sebastian reached across the island and tucked your hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his hand. When he nudged your face up to look at him, he offered a small, genuine smile. “I’ll get you through this, okay? I’ll take care of the media and whatever shit comes our way from that. You just focus on the treatment.”

All week long, the only time anyone else touched you was when the nurses hooked you up to the machines. So, to feel Sebastian’s hand on your cheek was jarring in a way. It felt good.

You covered his hand with yours and gave him a weak smile.

With a decisive nod, he withdrew his hand and pushed your food closer towards you. “Good. Now eat.”

Your first mistake was telling Sebastian you felt better than you had all week.

It was a mistake because he had interpreted that as I’m definitely feeling up to leaving the apartment on a Saturday night.

And that was how you found yourself sitting in a booth at his favorite diner. No one asked any questions when he asked to be seated at the booth in the back. It was the one that had the most privacy.

As your waitress, Selena took your orders and made small talk, you kept second guessing everything you’d ever said to her. With how often you and Sebastian came here, you’d spoken with the employees here quite a bit. Outside of the hospital staff and Sebastian, they were the people you interacted with the most.

What did they know about you? What had you told them? What could they tell the media, if asked? What details about you did they remember?

“Hey, Y/N.” Sebastian waved his hand in front of your face. “Where’d you go?”

From across the diner, Selena’s laugh drew your attention momentarily.

A quick look around assured you that no one could overhear you, but you still kept your voice low. “Selena has a two year old son who had a cold two weeks ago, which is why she missed work on Wednesday and Thursday. His dad is a slime bag who bolted as soon as Selena found out she was pregnant and she works over 60 hours a week just to give her son, Timothy, what he needs. Timothy likes to be called Tim and his favorite animal right now is the elephant.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting you to say that. “Okay?”

“If I remember all of that about her, what does she remember about me? What could she tell someone else about me? Especially someone who knows how to dig into people’s pasts? I’ve talked to so many people here, and what if they remember something that helps someone figure out who I am—who I was. I know you said you’d take care of the media, but I can’t stop worrying. I’ve told you I have a shitty past and I really don’t want it to ruin your career because trust me, if the gossip in my hometown is anything to go by, people won’t understand what I did.”

Hell, people didn’t even know half of what you did.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond after a moment of considering your words, Selena came back with your food. Besides your orders, she placed two slices of pie on the table. “On the house. Gwen says you look like you need some more meat on your bones and if you don’t want the pie, tough shit.”

Sebastian laughed, and you forced a smile on your face as well. Gwen was the owner of the diner and she was a charming old lady. In the few weeks you’d been here, you realized quickly that she considered Seb like her own family and was very generous towards him. And, by extension, you.

“We wouldn’t dream of saying no to Gwen,” you said, trying not to sound as weak or anxious as you were.

“Good. I don’t want to see her come over and give y’all a piece of her mind along with that pie.” With a wink, Selena turned to take care of her only other table of the night.

When she was out of earshot, Sebastian motioned to your plate and you took a bite of your salad while rolling your eyes. You’d nearly forgotten about his insistence that you eat while he was gone.

“Marvel’s got a great PR team, Y/N. Whatever the media vultures dredge up, they’ll spin it in a good way. When I told you not to worry about the press, I meant it. And if you want to take preemptive action, we can let the PR team know what might come up and they can have a plan in place if people do dig that deep.”

As you fixed your baked potato and took a bite, you considered his words. It made sense. Didn’t mean you wouldn’t worry, though. “I’ll think about it.”

He was curious, you could tell. But you appreciated that he didn’t ask you to tell him what you were so scared of in your past. Maybe he would bring it up again when you were home, in private, but for right now, he changed the subject.

Dinner passed quickly, and when Selena came by to grab the payment, her face was more serious than you’d seen her before. “Thought I’d warn you there are some cameras out front. Brett just came back from his break and said the back way is clear if you wanna avoid them.”

Seb’s eyes darted to yours and you saw his brain turning over as he thought of the best course of action.

“I’ll run your card and be back. Let me know what you wanna do then and we’ll make it work for you.”

She left and Sebastian leaned forward. “What do you think?”

You scraped the last of the apple pie filling from the plate. While your first instinct was to consider every variable and come up with a course of action, you made the conscious effort to push down those thoughts. “You told me not to worry about the press. That’s your job, so I’m going to leave it up to you.”

In the end, you did end up sneaking out the back. Sebastian kept his arm around your shoulder as you walked through the back alley to where Sean was waiting with the car on a side street. As you got into the car, you noticed a camera flash on the other side of the street.

So they patched things up... but can this shaky relationship stand up against the media? And what is she so worried about the media finding in her past? 

Chapter 12: The Second Check-In

#sebastianxreader #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian x reader #marvel fanfic #mcu

[eddebrock]

Third Year’s A Charm

Happy Valentine’s Day @that4amkick !! I was your giftee for the @itfandomsecretadmirers so I wrote you a little stenbrough drabble. Hope you enjoy and had a great day !!

Word Count: 2293

Pairing: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Summary: For three years, Bill Denbrough has been struggling to contain his growing affections toward his coworker and fellow student Stanley Uris. As Valentine’s Day grows closer, an idea sparks in his mind.

Credits: Big thanks to Maxy ( @50szoomer ) for the initial prompt, I went a little off rail but it certainly helped me get started !! 💛

For three years, Bill Denbrough has worked tirelessly at the local bookstore not far from campus. It’s enjoyable to say the least, he has always been a sucker for literature and often stays after hours (when he isn’t too busy with homework and studying) and sits at one of the lounge chairs, picking up on a novel.

A lot of his coworkers are also students at his college, he guesses that it’s because of the conviennent location and decent pay. Bill has managed to become pretty close friends with a lot of them since the majority share similar interests. There is one though that he has yet to manage to make of acquaintance much to Bill’s disappointment.

Stanley Uris, or ‘Stan’ as he more commonly went by, had always been a bit rough around the edges. Bill knew this since the minute the boy walked into a lecture they shared, already criticizing the professor on the assignment from the week before. Even so, Bill found himself with growing affections for him, feelings that he was desperately trying to pursue, but no response was coming from the other end. It was as if Bill hit a dead end and was scramming to find a way forward, but alas, was having no such luck.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, Bill glanced around to make sure there weren’t any customers nearby, when his analysis came with no results, he was free to lay his head on the counter of the cash register- sighing once more as Bill brought his arms up in front of his resting face. He found these feelings for his peer to be quite tiresome and Bill just hadn’t mastered controlling them on any level.

The other day, Stan was preparing to bring his shift to an end, restlessly checking the overhead clock every so often from where he was organizing a new shipment of paperbacks on a shelf in the young adult fantasy section. At the time, there had been no line at the cash register, seeing as the shop was relatively empty due to the late hour, so Bill took a deep breath, searching for courage, and sauntered over to his employee.

The idea had been to casually ask Stan out to dinner, maybe not specify that it was a date, but at the very least bring it up as a casual meeting to get to know each other.

Long story short, that shipment of paperbacks previously mentioned? The majority didn’t reach the shelf, instead they took a detour to the floor as well as Bill’s torso that laid on the ground after taking a disastrous fall. He had been leaning on of the the boxes, ‘playing it cool’ as he remembered his roommate Mike suggest- not showing the large about of nerves pilling up inside. He took ‘playing it cool’ probably a little too far to the point that Bill was pretty much using the unsturdy box as a support beam to hold himself up as his legs went weak at the attempt of talking to Stan. Said ‘unsturdy box’ tipped over and took a fall, spilling its contents over the floor and taking Bill with it.

No, Bill did not take Stan out for dinner that night, far from it actually, but he counts it as progress- Stan talked to him. Sure, it may have been in the form of unfriendly scolding ending with him storming away, leaving Bill to clean up the mess, but hey, words are words and that was enough for those butterflies to begin fluttering up Bill’s lungs- taking his breath away as the annoyed brunette exited the store with a final huff.

Bill Denbrough has dug himself in a hole and it’s with no doubt that he is utterly fucked.

Returning from his memory of the other day, Bill lifts his head back up, noticing the small display of Valentine’s Day gifts they had on display in the front of the store. He thought for a moment, studying the display as an idea popped to mind.

Would he really be tempted to buy on in hopes of giving it to Stan?

The answer is yes. Of course he would because he is Bill Denbrough and corny gifts is his middle name! Maybe if he’s smart enough, he could manage to pull off one of those ‘secret admirer’ stunts and leave the revelation to the big day, February 14th. It wasn’t a horrible plan, no it was actually quite appealing. It would give Bill time to gather himself to come off as more composed when confronting Stan.

Luckily, Stan did not have a shift today so when Bill left his position to grab a nicely decorated heart-shaped greeting card, he didn’t have to worry about the misfortune of being spotted. The card was simple, blank on the inside to provide more room for Bill to write something down- maybe a poem?

As the sunlight began to fade as seen from the windows, Bill prepared to close up shop, not forgetting to ring himself up to pay for the card. Gathering his hoodie that had been placed under the counter, he began to walk out the door, muttering ideas for what to write in the card (he already decided to ask Stan’s roommate, Richie, to set the card on the latter’s desk).

‘Always admiring you from afar, never knowing if erasure of space is possible,’ is what Bill settled for later that night, signing off with ‘-Secret Admirer’. It was simple and a decent start, that was certain, but he smiled as his eyes traced back on the words.

This carried on for the next four days with Richie feeding Bill information on Stan’s reaction to each little gift. Following the card on Friday were two roses on Saturday, one being lavender and the other was pink- colors that Bill chose after studying up on each different color (Richie had stated that Stan especially liked this gift and that he said it was endearing that ‘the secret admirer’ added a little note with the meanings of each color-

‘Lavender roses often represent the concept of love at first sight, they also can be taken as a daily reminder of love and eagerness to form or grow a relationship.

Pink roses express admiration as well as sweetness & joy.

-Secret Admirer’).

However, it was Wednesday morning now and as Bill slowly drank his coffee, eyeing the words forming on the page of a book he had just started the night before, he was filled with anxiousness. Yes, this whole secret admirer thing had been fun, but now this was real. It was February 14th- Valentine’s Day. The day he was supposed to confess to Stan with no persona to cover himself.

Bill was bound to be rejected, sure Stan appreciated his gifts but did he actually like Bill? There was no chance! If anything he probably hates the latter. All of this was most likely a mistake to begin with, Bill worked himself up all for heartbreak.

His coffee was growing cold by now. His book long forgotten. Bill stood from the stool he had claimed in the lounge area of the dorms, throwing his cup away then walking out- book in hand. Either way, he still had to go to work, but he couldn’t shake off his previous thoughts no matter how hard he tried. Bill didn’t have a gift this time, just himself. Would that be enough?

Arriving at the bookstore, which had already been open three hours earlier than his shift, Bill takes a deep breath. He quickly spots Stan working at the counter and greeting customers.

They have the whole day ahead of them, Bill checked the schedule last night and saw they both ended their shifts at seven, and it was 12:30 now.

Seven o’clock came faster than Bill hoped. In a blink of an eye 6:30 came and passed. He finds them in much of a similar situation as they had been the day he tipped over the box. With Stan stacking books, and Bill at the cash register.

Minutes pass and Stan looks to be heading out, Bill checks the clock and sure enough it’s 7 on the dot. Before anyone can go anywhere, Bill speaks up.

“H-h-hey! S-Stan wait uh-up!” Bill shouts mildly, hurrying towards the front door to meet the brunette who quickly meets his gaze, “H-hap-happy Valentine’s D-Day!”

Bill can’t decipher whether it’s confusion or annoyance that forms on his coworker’s face as he responds with the same ‘happy Valentine’s Day’. Bill doesn’t know what he expected, it’s not like Stan could figure it out on his own that he was his secret admirer, so he finds himself at a loss for words, this moment hasn’t been planned out like the gifts- no, it was on the spot with no prompt.

“I, uh, w-well i-it’s not easy t-t-to explain t-this but, w-well I just thought, y-you know since it’s V-Valentine’s Day, that, uh, m-maybe,” this time, Bill definitely recognizes that it’s confusion on Stan’s face, and he doesn’t blame him, “Well w-what I’m trying to s-say is that I-I’m,” the words just aren’t forming. Bill isn’t registering his train of thought. He closes his eyes, sighs, and clears his throat, “I’m t-the one who’s been leaving you t-the gifts. I’m y-your secret admirer,” silence, “Surprise,” he adds, almost as a sarcastic afterthought.

Out of all the scenarios that Bill played out in his mind of Stan’s reaction, he never once thought his line-lipped coworker would laugh. It leaves Bill standing awkwardly, not knowing if this is a good or bad sign.

After a minute or so, Stan manages to calm himself down, wiping his eyes that had picked up some moisture during his amusement, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me- it’s just,” a chuckle, “Richie is absolutely terrible at keeping a secret- which is probably for the best or else I would’ve thought it was him who left the gifts!” Stan grins, meeting Bill’s (now confused) gaze once more, “I probably should’ve mentioned this sooner, I mean, I’ve known it was you since Saturday, thank you by the way, you didn’t have to, but all of those gifts were really sweet.”

Three years. Three years of working tirelessly. Three years of admiring from afar. Three years of unreturned glances. Three years and Bill Denbrough has never had a civil conversation with Stanley Uris that didn’t seem passive aggressive if you read between the lines. Three years- and it only took less than two days for Richie Tozier to break and spill the details of Bill’s hopeless crush.

“I’m going to f-f-fucking kill him,” Bill decided aloud, eyes drifting to nothing in particular. Stan laughs, again, it’s a wonderful sound. Bill also decides that he’d trade music any day for a soundtrack of Stan’s laughter. Not the bitter kind, but the genuine one that he thinks he’s hearing right now.

“Join the line, some of us have been waiting since elementary school.”

Bill could have continued the light-hearted conversation. He could have stuck with that and would be content. But this was sidetracked, and Bill had a question- no, a thought to spill. “We can forget t-this happened. W-we could just b-be friends, I’d b-be okay with t-that. I k-know you probably d-don’t feel the same way- f-feel a-about me the w-way I f-feel about you.”

“And what if I did feel the same?”

It’s a simple question. A bit vague, and it could have a underlying meaning, but simple nonetheless. Either way, it makes Bill stop in his tracks, stumbling his breathing pattern for a second.

“B-but you don’t.”

“But what if I did.”

It’s reaching, but Bill is hoping he is understanding the context that this conversation has swerved to. He thinks about his words, and what they are suggesting. “T-t-then I’d t-take you out for dinner.”

“Sounds like you just got yourself a date, Denbrough.”

A minute. A minute passes and Bill is speechless, he mutters out a series of confused exclamations until he can finally muster, “I d-don’t think I understand.”

Stan smiles, and for a few seconds he doesn’t say anything. It’s like a staring contest has begun between the two of them until he finds his voice, “Well you said if I had feelings for you, as you do for me, then you’d take me out for dinner. So, therefore, I believe Bill Denbrough, if I’m not mistaken, you owe me a dinner date.”

Of course, in reply, Bill ends up shouting, “B-b-but you h-hate me!” Anyone else would say he looks outraged, but Stan would level it more as highly confused. “Before now the only time we ever talked is when you yelled at me for tipping over the box of books!”

“You really think I hate you?” Some could say Stan was stricken, others could say he’s sad, maybe the real answer would be a fine line in between, or maybe a hybrid of both. Bill doesn’t answer besides a stiff little nod so Stan continues on, “I, I mean Richie has said before I can come off as a little prickly, but I didn’t think you would believe I hate you,” he furrowed his eyebrows, registering everything to take in, “I really like you Bill, we don’t talk often but I’ve been working with you for three years, you’re always so kind to people even when you look really tired- I just, I don’t think I could ever really hate you.”

Three years. Three years Bill Denbrough spent thinking Stanley Uris hated him, and all it took was one roommate who acted like an open book and one Valentine’s day to prove that the circumstances were much different.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed! Happy Valentine’s Day !!

(I edited this, but if anyone noticed a mistake, feel free to let me know!)

#itfandomsecretadmirers #stenbrough #it #mine #drabbles

[roxyspearing]

Like old times

This is my entry for @amanda-teaches and her undercover hunting challenge, celebrating her reaching 500 followers (woo!) The job I picked for our boys to go undercover in was *drum roll* personal trainers! So, let's get physical, shall we?

Word count: 3,929 - this is by far the longest fic I've done, and I'm not sorry for a single word of this.

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, a couple of original characters

Warnings: besides the amount of time it's going to take you to read this? One sassy as fuck reader, canon level violence and death, violence and injury to reader, a lot of swearing, SMUT - oral (female receiving) sexual intercourse (semi protected as reader's on the pill - always practise safe sex people!)

If I've tagged you and smut isn't your thing I apologize! Also, feedback is much appreciated - this is only my second proper time writing smut!

“Sam?”

The voice at the other end of the phone is quiet, and it takes Sam a minute in his half asleep state to realise who is calling him.

“Y/N?”

“Hey. I’m sorry to call so early, but...well, I need your help.”

“OK, remind me again who this friend is that has us up and on the road at...7:34 in the morning?” queries Dean as he points the impala out of the bunker's garage and onto the main road.

“Like I said, I know them from Stanford...”

“And they know what we do?”

“Yeah, there was a hunt a few years back...”

“And why is he calling you?”

Sam goes to reply then stops as Dean's words register in his brain. A second or two passes, and then he decides to go along with it, let Dean get a little surprise when they finally get to Denver, Colorado.

“He wouldn’t be calling unless he really needed my help.”

“Well, this better be good to have us up at the crack of dawn.”

“It will be.”

The 6 hour drive only takes just over 4 what with Dean's lead foot and the lack of traffic at this time of day, and soon Sam is directing Dean to the address Y/N gave them.

“We're meeting this guy at a gym?”

Sam smirks to himself as he leaves Dean to fill the meter and heads in to the gym.

“Hi, welcome to Fitness 24. How may I help you?” the receptionist smiles.

“Hi, could you let Y/N know that Sam Winchester is here to see her please?”

“Of course, she let us know that she was expecting you. I'll just give her a call.”

The receptionist has just put the phone down when Dean walks in, still grumbling. They stand there for a couple of minutes, and then the sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor reaches their ears.

“You got here sooner then I was expecting you to, Samuel.”

The sound of your voice has both Winchesters turning on the spot.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Sam, not Samuel.”

Laughing, you throw your arms around Sam's waist and hug him tight. As you pull back, you can see another man staring at the two of you in disbelief.

“Probably the same number of times I've told you it’s Y/N/N, not Y/N.” Rising up onto your tiptoes, because even in your heels Sam still has like a foot on you, you plant a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Abby, can you divert all my calls for a bit?”

“No problem boss” the girl behind the reception desk replies.

“Right, let's take this up to my office, talk in comfort. And if you could get your jaw off my floor, that would be lovely, thanks.” That last sentence is directed towards Dean, who still hasn’t uttered a word.

You lead the way, and once in your office, you thump Sam in the arm.

“Ow! What the hell...”

“That was for lying to your brother! Because going by that face on him, he sure wasn’t expecting a woman to be stood here.”

“No, I wasn't.” Dean says, having managed to find his voice again.

“To be fair, you did think Y/N/N was a man.”

“Excuse me?” you ask, as you sit down behind your desk.

“I may, possibly, have just assumed you were a guy?” Dean mumbles.

“Hmmm. Yeah, the tits kind of put a kibosh in that. Sit down would you? This craning my neck to look at you two giants business is starting to hurt.”

Sam chuckles at your words as he and Dean sit in the chairs on the other side of your desk.

“You haven’t changed.”

“Same can’t be said for you honey. You trying to be a real life Rapunzel with that hair?” You smile as Sam flips you the bird and Dean bends over double laughing. “Right, let’s do this properly, shall we? Dean, nice to meet you. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Likewise. So, you know Sammy from Stanford?”

“Sammy?” You cock your head in his direction and bite back a grin.

“No.”

“OK, not Sammy. Yeah, we went to Stanford together.”

“But...”

“I'm not a lawyer?” Dean nods in response. “Yeah, that was too dull for me. I did anatomy and physiology, with a business degree as my minor.”

“Then how did you two meet?”

“In the gym actually. Sam gave me sparring tips.”

“Y/N's got one hell of a right hook” Sam pipes up.

“OK. So, how is it you know about...” Dean’s question trails off, unsure of how to say it.

“Demons and angels and all that hoo-ha?”

Dean nods again, reminding you of one of those nodding head toys you stick on your car dashboard.

“Well, I hadn’t seen this one since he'd upped and left from Stanford, then a couple years back I was visiting some family of mine and nearly got killed by a vampire. That face you had at seeing me? That’s what mine looked like when I realised the bloke who had just chopped off someone else's head was Sam here.” you explain, and as you kind of expected, Dean barely bats an eyelid.

“When I left, having given ‘this one’ the whole ‘monsters are real, here's how to protect yourself’ talk” Sam glances over and shakes his head at you mouthing ‘fuck you’ to him for using your words against you “I gave her my number and told her to keep in touch. You didn’t until this morning though.”

“Yeah, well, like I said, I need your help.”

Sam and Dean look at one another, and you swear you can see an entire conversation take place.

“OK Y/N, tell us what's going on.”

A couple of hours later, and the Winchesters and yourself have come up with a plan. You had been hoping that it was just a series of weird accidents that had caused the deaths of 3 people, but when two more people had died - in your gym no less - you'd known that something was up. Thank God you'd kept Sam's number. It had been a shock when he'd saved you from certain death, even more of a shock when he'd explained that monsters were real and that was why he'd dropped out of college with half a semester to go. But he and his brother obviously knew what they were talking about and you certaainly needed every bit of help you could get. Especially when you were in danger of being shut down. The gym was your life, and you'd put everything you had and more into sorting out not just this place, but your new branch, ironically enough not too far from the brothers.

“So, a witch?”

“Yep” Dean glanced over at you as he shut the locker door. “Evidence of hex bags on at least 3 of the victims.”

“And you think it's one of my staff?”

“All the victims were members of your gym Y/N.” you turn to Sam, sat tying his shoe laces “A member of staff would easily be able to get access to their belongings.”

“Well, good thing my two newest employees have passed their background checks then.”

The plan was simple: Sam and Dean would pose as your two newest trainers. After all, they certainly had the bodies for it.

“So, as personal trainers, that gives you guys access to the entire building.”

“Who else has access like that? We'll start with them and work our way down til we find this bitch.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, and giggled when Sam not-so-quietly whispered ‘that Dean hates witches.’

“I am right there with you on this one Dean. Right, well, obviously me, but I'm good right?” Dean and Sam both nod at you and you continue on “The three other personal trainers, the head of the cleaning company I use, oh and Abby.”

“The receptionist?” Sam queries.

“Yeah, she's got a back up set of keys in case one of the other sets gets misplaced or broken. But they’ve never been needed.”

“Thanks Y/N.”

“Just find this person. Please?”

4 days later, and the witch still hasn’t been found. And someone else had nearly died, would’ve died if Dean hadn’t ran up a flight of stairs, broken into their locker and burned the hex bag. Sitting in your office, you rubbed your throbbing temples and wondered just how your life had ended up at this point. It was only the ringing of your phone that pulled you back to the here and now.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N/N, only us.” came Dean's voice.

“How goes it boys?”

As well as being undercover at your gym, which had seen a definite increase in female clientele, Sam and Dean were also running surveillance and research on everyone. You were certain they hadn’t slept properly since they had arrived.

“Pretty dull so far to be honest.”

“Are you sure it's Paul?” you asked once more. You wanted this witch found and burned (even though you knew from Sam that one of the only sure fire ways to end a witch was with a special bullet they'd made) but it still tore at you that the person responsible could be one of your oldest employees.

“I know we haven’t found any hard evidence Y/N, but he was the trainer to 4 of the victims, and did the initial assessment for victim number 5 and the guy Dean saved the other day.” Sam said.

“Damn it.”

“Sorry. You still at the gym?”

“Yeah, gotta go through this mountain of paperwork before I get inspected for negligence...oh, too late. I’m getting inspected.”

“We'll find this witch, Y/N. We won’t let you lose your business.”

“Thanks Samuel.”

“You're welcome. You’re not there alone are you?”

“Abby just left 5 minutes ago. I promise, I'll call it a ni...”

“Shit Y/N/N, we gotta go, something's happening!” The end call tone beeped incessantly in your ear until you put the phone down. There was only one thing for it – chocolate. Making your way downstairs, you headed over to the reception desk, knowing that Abby kept a secret stash of peanut butter cups in the bottom drawer. Pulling it open, you froze. For there wasn’t any chocolate-y goodness that you had been looking for. But there was several of the hex bags just like the ones in the pictures Dean had shown you.

“What the-” And then the blow to the back of your head sent you into darkness.

Owwwww. That was the overwhelming thought going through your mind as you regained consciousness. What the hell had just happened? Your mind went back and forth trying to remember, and as the image of the reception desk drawer came into focus, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

“Oh good. You’re awake. I was worried I’d hit you a bit too hard.” The taunting tone almost went in one ear and out the other, but you finally got your senses back and looked up to see Abby stood in front of you, large knife in hand. Quickly glancing round, you realised you were in your office, tied to one of the chairs.

“You?”

“Me. Nothing personal Y/N.”

“Nothing personal?!” you scoffed.

“Well, not at first. The last couple were. It was just sheer coincidence they all came here. After all, I was killing them because they’re lying, cheating scumbags.”

“Oh, of course. Perfectly understandable.”

“And of course that last one was your fault. Calling in the Winchesters? Bad move boss.” Abby said, sarcasm dripping off that last word.

“You know the Winchesters?” As the two off you talked, you could feel the ropes around your wrists loosening with every small movement you made. Maybe if you kept her talking long enough, you could break free long enough to call Sam and Dean.

“Everyone knows who the Winchesters are. Though I didn’t think you knew who they were. That was a surprise.”

“What can I say? Girl’s gotta have some secrets.” you smirked at her, and her response was to stab you in the thigh. Crying out from the sudden pain, you blinked back tears to see the door to your office fly open and Sam and Dean run in.

“About time boys!” Abby yelled, turning her back to you and with a wave of her arm throwing Sam and Dean to the walls and keeping them pinned there “I thought I was gonna have to kill little Y/N here without an audience. Tell me, how’s Paul?”

“Still alive, even with your little attack on him” Dean grunted out.

“Oh well, can’t win them all. But killing you two, and this one?” Both Winchesters gritting their teeth in barely contained anger at Abby’s words “That's definitely a win. Now, shall we hurry and finish this thing?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” you said, and Abby turned to see you stood directly behind her, ropes still round your wrist on one hand, victorious smile on your face from having broken free while she was distracted.

“What the-” That delicious bit of irony made you smile even harder, as her words were cut short by your right fist slamming itself right into her face. A roundhouse kick followed, and you had broken Abby’s focus long enough for Sam and Dean to be let go. As the two got their breath back and scrambled for their guns, you and Abby continued to fight. She might have taken the self defence classes you put on at the gym every other week, but you had sparred with Sam Winchester. It wasn’t long before you had the upper hand, and with one final right hook, you left the bloodied woman on the floor, gasping for air.

“She's all yours Winchesters.”

Limping out of your office, you didn’t even flinch when two gunshots rang out from behind you.

Sweat ran down your face as you threw another jab-jab-cross combo at the punching bag you had set up. You’d cleaned yourself up and stitched up the wound on your leg while Sam and Dean had taken care of the body, and you knew you should be asleep. But too much adrenaline still pumped through your blood, and so you found yourself back in your gym, punching and kicking for all you were worth.

“Try widening your feet another half inch.” The sudden voice made you jump, and you turned to see Sam, still dressed in his personal trainer get up, leaning against the doorframe.

“Giving me sparring tips Winchester? Well ain’t this like old times.”

“I don’t seem to remember you having beating the crap out of a witch and then me killing it back in the Stanford days Y/N. You’ve still got one hell of a right hook though.”

“Thanks. So, what happens now?”

“Well” Sam said, coming up to support the punching bag and gesturing with his head for you to continue “You’re not the only one still too hopped up to sleep, so a good old fashioned spar is first. Then, me and Dean go back home and you carry on.”

“I don’t know if I can do that Sam.” Almost like someone’s flipped a switch, all the adrenaline goes away, and turning away from Sam you have to bite your lip hard to stop from bursting into tears at the events of the last couple of weeks.

“Hey.” Sam comes round the punching bag and gently turns you round to face him “You're coming to Lebanon in a couple of weeks right?” You nod in reply, and Sam's hands come up to wipe away the tears that have managed to break free “Call me, OK? We'll get dinner.”

Dropping his hands to his sides, Sam goes to turn away, but he doesn't get far. Grabbing on to the front of Sam's vest top, you pull him down to your lips. The kiss is slow, soft, hesitant, and breaking apart, the two of you gasp heavily for air.

“You know, this isn’t the kind of spar I had in mind Y/N/N.” Sam teases.

“You really wanna stop?”

“God no.” And then this time Sam's the one reaching for you, hands curling around your waist, his fingers almost touching, and you shiver to think of how big all of him is going to be.

Sliding your hands up to his hair, you curl your fingers in and give a light tug, and the moan Sam lets out sends a jolt of pleasure right through you. You barely want to break apart from him, his kisses making you light headed and giddy, but you know you’re going to have to when you feel Sam's fingers slide under the bottom of the sports bra you’re wearing. Taking the slightest step back, you lift your arms to help Sam in getting rid of your clothing. As he lifts it over your head, his eyes go wide at the sight of your breasts, and before you can get your hands on his vest top and even out the clothing stakes, Sam's got his hands on your waist again, but this time his lips drop down your neck and collarbone until he gets to the valley in between your boobs. As his tongue finally curls over and around one nipple, he slides a hand up to play with the other one. Switching sides, you can’t help the little mewls of pleasure coming out of your mouth, and you re-curl your fingers into his hair, enjoying the vibrations of his moans on your now sensitive nipple.

“Sam....” Your voice barely sounds like your own, so breathy and filled with lust. With one final scrape of his teeth on you, Sam pulls up and back, hands leaving your waist so he can reach back and pull off that top. You can’t help the little intake of breath at the sight of him, lean and muscular, and your fingers run themselves down his pecs, the defined abs, that bloody v line that makes your mouth water, until they’re hovering over the lycra waistband of his shorts. Glancing up, Sam's eyes are almost black in colour, lust clouding them over, and with a bravery you didn’t know you had, you curl your fingers into the waistband and pull and push them and his boxers down until they’re pooled round his ankles.

“Holy shit.” Fuck knows where Sam's been packing that, because usually lycra shows everything. Sam chuckles in response, and stepping out of his clothes and kicking them behind him, he reaches for you once more. His hands slip beneath the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing, and a deep growl leaves his lips when he realises you’re naked underneath them.

“No panties? Fuck, baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Before you know it, you’re on your back on the mat, Sam’s head making it’s way lower and lower. Your back arches at the first flick of his tongue on your swollen clit, and you have to take several deep breathes to stop yourself coming already. Sam lifts his head and rests it on your lower belly, waits for you to look at him.

“You think I’m only gonna make you come once? Don’t hold back baby. I'm not going to.” And then he's dropping back down, tongue hitting everywhere it should, and you scream your way through your orgasm. Just as you’ve come down from it, you realise Sam's still laying between your legs, and you glance down only to lock eyes with him, his nose bumping your clit and tongue still teasing your entrance.

“Think I can get one more out of you before I fuck you?” Words have left you, and all you can do is nod before your head falls back. Gripping the back of Sam's head, you tug hard.

“I'll take that as a yes then” Sam laughs, planting tiny kisses on the insides of your thighs. “Gonna use my fingers too this time. Need to make sure I don’t hurt you.” Anyone else you’d have rolled your eyes at that comment, but with Sam you know it's not bragging, but the truth. Sure enough, this time round Sam's tongue stays firmly on your clit, small flicks and sucks bringing you slowly back to that edge. As his mouth works you over, he slowly teases you with one finger, then two, until finally you’re screaming once more, pussy fluttering wildly around three of Sam's long fingers, reaching spots you never thought anyone would be able to find.

Sucking his fingers into his mouth, Sam moans as you reach down and slowly pump his length. Pulling himself up to hover over you, one arm braced in a push up position, his other hand moves to cover yours and guide him just outside where you need him the most.

“Sam, please. Need you. I’m on the pill, we're good. Fuck me, please.....oh god!!” Your words are all the permission Sam needs, and slowly he pushes into you, so slowly that just as you’re used to the stretch and burn of him, the next inch comes along. By the time his hips are flush with yours, you’re sweating and writhing underneath him, desperate for a little bit more friction.

“How are we doing this baby?” Sam asks you in between kissing and sucking at the base of your neck. With one more grab at his hair, you pull so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Hard. Wanna feel you for days Winchester.” You follow up your declaration with a bite to the soft skin under his ear, and his answering growl makes his dick jump in your pussy.

Sam finally starts to move, slow at first, but with every pull and thrust you feel every fucking inch of him. By the time he speeds up, it’s all you can do but to hold on, legs wrapped round his waist and hands digging into the muscles in his back. You’re so close, and Sam instinctively knows what you need, one of his hands shifting slightly from where it had been resting on your hip so that one of those fingers can rub slow circles around your desperately swollen bud. It only takes a few circles and then you’re coming, Sam's name nothing more then a high pitched moan from your lips. You’re just about with it when three thrusts later and Sam comes as well, his cock twitching wildly within your still spasming walls, groaning your name into your neck.

The two of you lay there, breaths coming in ragged gasps, Sam's weight surprisingly comfortable. Eventually though, he eases himself off you and pulls out, a brief whimper leaving you at how desperately empty you suddenly are. He grabs his discarded vest top and gently wipes you down, a stark contrast to how roughly he’d just fucked you. Throwing the top to the side again, Sam falls back down, this time laying on his back to the side of you and pulling you towards him. Your legs tangle up with his, and you rest your head just above his heart.

“So. I don’t remember us doing that after sparring before.”

You can’t help but giggle at that.

“Nope. That’s definitely a new one for us.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“You know how I said when you came to town, we should go get dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I make that into a date?”

“Not at all. Mind if I move down to Lebanon a lot sooner then I'd planned to?”

“How soon we talking?”

“How’s this weekend sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Tag, you're it (Tag list is open btw):

@atc74 @acreativelydifferentlove @babypieandwhiskey @blacktithe7 @because-imma-lady-assface @crispychrissy @cassieraider @charliebradbury1104 @docharleythegeekqueen @feelmyroarrrr @fictionalabyss @girl-next-door-writes @growningupgeek @grace-for-sale @goldenolaf25 @honeybeedestiel @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @idreamofhazel @jayankles @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @juanitadiann @kittenofdoomage @katymacsupernatural @kathaswings @kdfrqqg @luci-in-trenchcoats @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @livelikeawinchester @laurenisnot @mrsbatesmotel53 @mspseudonymwho @mysticpizzacat @mandilion76 @notnaturalanahi @oneshoeshort @percywinchester27 @pinknerdpanda @reigningqueenofwords @rhapsody-in-flannel @supernatural-jackles @saxxxology @sis-tafics @sille1992 @sofreddie @sandlee44 @schizonephilim @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @trexrambling @viviandarkbloom06 @wheresthekillswitch @wildfirewinchester

#amanda goes undercover #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester smut #sam winchester reader insert #sam x you #sam x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #SPN #spn fanfiction #spn reader insert #love a challenge me #roxy writes fanfiction #roxy writes smut!! #roxy wrote a lot! #sorry not sorry #this fic has been my life for several weeks #new writing

[oselatra]

The saga of Rusty Cranford

The man in the middle of Arkansas's vast public corruption scandal.

On Feb. 21, 2018, federal agents arrested longtime Arkansas lobbyist Milton "Rusty" Cranford at a residence in Bentonville where he was staying. They found $17,700 in $100 bills in a black backpack and multiple bottles of pills for which he did not have a prescription, including Xanax, Ambien and Hydrocodone.

Cranford was asked whether there were any weapons in the home and he showed agents a Bond Arms Defender, a .45-caliber derringer-style pistol in a box in the closet. The government would later allege that Cranford planned to hire an old family friend to murder a witness who was cooperating in a federal corruption investigation against him.

"This motherfucker right here," Cranford had told the family friend, a felon who was acting as a confidential informant for the FBI and recording the conversations. "He's in Philadelphia. He's in South Jersey." Cranford then whispered: "He needs to go away. He needs to be gone." According to the informant, Cranford then made a gun-shooting gesture with his hand.

Before his downfall, Cranford had been an executive at one of the largest Medicaid providers in the region, and a powerful lobbyist who helped bankroll countless political campaigns in Arkansas and influenced state policies that remain in place today. During the recorded conversations, he complained that he was being railroaded by the feds: "So those comments have been made that, 'There's no way he could have accomplished all this shit without being dirty.' Well fuck that. Show me where I'm dirty. I mean, yeah, have I wrote a hell of a lot of — have I paid a hell of a lot of politicians? I sure have over the years. A shitload of money. But I've wrote them all checks, so there's a paper trail of everything I wrote. If motherfuckers tryin' to buy somebody, they ain't going to write 'em a check for it."

The keys to the kingdom

Cranford was a well-known presence at the state Capitol for around 20 years. He was a smoky-voiced hustler, a country rogue in a rumpled suit. He was as persistent and tenacious as a pawnshop broker closing a sale. He worked hard, and he was always working — always working you — whether you knew it or not. He'd lean in, perspiring with possibility, and tell you: "OK, bub, this is how it's gonna be."

Cranford was at the center of a web of state corruption uncovered by federal investigators. More than a half-dozen former legislators and lobbyists have been criminally charged, and a cloud hangs over numerous others. Cranford was charged in the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Missouri on one count of conspiracy and eight counts of bribery. In June, he pleaded guilty to one count of bribery; he is now awaiting sentencing in Greene County Jail in Missouri.

Cranford had endless schemes, a finger in every money pie he could find. But his big ticket was Preferred Family Healthcare, the nonprofit formerly known as Alternative Opportunities, where he occupied a murky role as both a top executive on staff and an outside consultant engaged in clandestine lobbying. (This article will refer to the nonprofit as AO/PFH; the name changed after a merger in 2015.) The Springfield, Mo., based conglomerate operates in five states and in more than 40 sites across Arkansas, providing behavioral health services such as treatment and counseling for mental health and substance abuse, as well as aiding people with developmental disabilities and other services. That might not sound like an obvious target for graft, but the Medicaid program in Arkansas has a $7.6 billion budget. For Cranford and company, this proved a tempting pot.

Cranford, with the help of crooked lawmakers, swallowed up millions of dollars in taxpayer money for AO/PFH and other clients, then pocketed some of that money for himself and his co-conspirators. Each new filing from federal prosecutors has exposed more details on the rot in Little Rock: Grubby backroom deals greased with cash. Lawmakers hooked up with World Series tickets and overpaid jobs. Four-digit tabs at Arthur's Prime Steakhouse in West Little Rock. Mysterious wire transfers, surreptitious meetings with cash-stuffed envelopes, sham contracts to hide the flow of money. At various times over the last five years, Arkansas's government was taken hostage by a criminal enterprise.

By 2014, Cranford realized that the FBI was keeping an eye on him and he began to take steps to cover his tracks. It was too late.

The first domino to fall came in June 2017, when an accountant at AO/PFH pleaded guilty to a $2 million embezzlement scheme, among other charges; later that year he committed suicide at his family farm outside of Springfield. A series of pleas and indictments on federal corruption charges followed: Donald Andrew Jones, a Pennsylvania lobbyist who advocated for AO/PFH in Congress; Eddie Wayne Cooper, a former Democratic state legislator from Melbourne, lobbyist, and AO/PFH executive; three other former Arkansas lawmakers; and finally Cranford himself.

Cranford is now presumably cooperating with federal investigators. Most assume that more indictments and pleas are to come.

"Fuck, Arkansas, man, they puttin' the hammer on probably 20 people up there," Cranford said during one of the conversations secretly recorded by federal investigators. "But their words to my attorney was ... 'He holds the keys to the kingdom.' That was the words they used. That I hold the keys to the kingdom."

Santa is coming

In December 2013, shortly after a bought-off legislator helped AO/PFH secure a million-dollar state grant, Tom Goss, then the chief financial officer for the nonprofit, wrote to Cranford: "awesome on the mill."

Cranford responded: "Thanks brother."

"Santa is coming," Goss wrote. Cranford wrote back: "I need Santa." This was how they talked, like thieves celebrating a score over highballs at a strip joint. They hustled after public money with a pulpy frat-boy zeal. They were getting rich, and they were relentless. They were winning. They were enjoying themselves.

Goss and two other top executives — his wife, the former Chief Operating Officer Bontiea Goss, and former Chief Executive Officer Marilyn Nolan — were fired from AO/PFH earlier this year after federal court filings implicated them in the corruption scandal (they were unnamed, but identifiable based upon the descriptions). They have not been charged and deny wrongdoing. A fourth top executive was put on administrative leave the day after an Arkansas Times reporter asked about apparent references to him in Cranford's plea.

AO/PFH spokesman Reginald McElhannon has said that the nonprofit was a victim of rogue employees and has repeatedly maintained that AO/PFH has cleaned house. However, citing credible allegations of Medicaid fraud, the state announced in June that it was ending Medicaid reimbursements and terminating all state contracts with the nonprofit. The loss of public funding leaves the future of AO/PFH's 45 Arkansas service sites in limbo; their sale or closure would affect hundreds of employees and thousands of patients.

Cranford, who first joined AO/PFH in 2007, was eventually named executive vice president, in charge of the nonprofit's operations in Arkansas. He took a circuitous route to the position. His mother was a prominent figure in the Democratic Party in the Texarkana area; Cranford started to make his own political connections in Central Arkansas as a fundraising staffer, state president and national officer for the Junior Chamber of Commerce (Jaycees) in the 1990s. He registered as a lobbyist in 2000 and by 2002 had left the Jaycees to pursue lobbying full time.

He was always a big talker, but he started as a very small fish. His first few clients were substance abuse treatment providers and providers of alternative medicine, such as acupuncture. His lobbying business brought in $13,000 before expenses in 2002 and $30,000 in 2003. Associates from the time remember him having constant money trouble — bouncing checks, grousing for extra money from clients and stiffing bills. He filed for bankruptcy twice in 2004, and again in 2005.

That didn't stop him from boasting even back then that he was a major player at the Capitol — one client recalled overhearing Cranford on the phone growling that he was at a meeting in the governor's office. He was sitting in his car.

Cranford had grit, and eventually he started to deliver on his grandiose claims. His shtick wasn't for everyone, but he had a grimy charisma, a gift for indulging the impulses of the powerful. The ones that liked him called him "Cowboy." He started signing up more clients, and carved out a niche working for behavioral health providers, a sector that was beginning to take in impressive revenues in the state. He managed to parlay his association with one of his lobbying clients, Dayspring, into a top management position on staff. When AO/PFH acquired Dayspring in 2007, they acquired Cranford, too.

Cranford's powerful position with the behemoth AO/PFH always raised eyebrows: He was a lobbyist, a political moneyman, not a health care administrator. Cranford's ally Cooper, the former state representative, meanwhile, was brought aboard AO/PFH in 2009, while he was still in the legislature (Cooper also joined Cranford's lobbying firm after his term was up). Cooper chaired the Public Health, Welfare and Labor committee, but he was no one's idea of a policy wonk. Capitol observers assumed he was put in place, at a six-figure salary, for his political connections. These moves fit a pattern for AO/PFH. The nonprofit, heavily reliant on revenues from the Arkansas government, stacked its roster with former state officials.

Whatever they were doing, it was working: Business was booming, especially in Arkansas. AO/PFH's annual Medicaid reimbursements in the state topped $30 million, and AO/PFH was taking in tens of millions more in state contracts and grants. Revenues soared, and totaled more than $800 million across five states between 2009 and 2016, much of that thanks to Medicaid. According to the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, an astonishing one quarter of AO/PFH's total revenues came from state agencies funded with taxpayer money. Executives at the top of AO/PFH were rewarded handsomely with salaries between $400,000 and nearly $1 million.

To keep the band playing, Cranford and his co-conspirators undertook elaborate efforts to influence lawmakers and state policymakers in ways that would help AO/PFH's bottom line. Cranford soaked up grant money and doggedly fought efforts by state officials to implement oversight or changes to the Medicaid payment system. He said he was protecting kids who needed care; critics argued that he was gaming the system to overcharge the state and keep the money rolling in.

AO/PFH funds were poured into improper lobbying, campaign contributions and political advocacy, according to court filings. Cranford and other executives conspired to conceal these activities, which broke IRS rules and requirements regarding tax-exempt charitable organizations. And they went further than that, according to Cranford's plea, as top executives engineered hundreds of thousands of dollars in bribes to legislators.

The more public money that AO/PFH brought in, the more money would wind up in the pockets of Cranford and his co-conspirators. According to court filings, revenues were diverted toward extravagant personal spending with the nonprofit's corporate credit card, premium tickets to sporting events on AO/PFH's dime, payments to private companies owned by AO/PFH executives and a series of direct cash kickbacks. Millions of dollars changed hands in illicit schemes. All that grease and toil to pile up public money was not to provide better services, but to line their own pockets. Their goal, according to Cranford's plea: "[T]o increase the Charity's total receipts so they had more funds available from which to embezzle and steal."

New bubba for our team

Cranford was short, loud and crude. Crusty Rusty, sneered his enemies. He was a good ol' boy, not a blueblood. He smoked pack after pack of cigarettes and spoke in a froggy croak from the back of his throat, like a hillbilly pirate, sparking endless impressions at the Capitol.

In court, Cranford's own defense attorney described him as "an unapologetic and avid gambler." He was a "seven star" member of the Horseshoe Casino in Shreveport, La., and former state Rep. Cooper told federal investigators that he had seen Cranford win and lose hundreds of thousands of dollars on individual bets. Cooper also told them that he had frequently witnessed Cranford buying cocaine from a dealer known as "Uncle C." Cranford told another associate that he would "hit the streets of Texarkana" to buy hydrocodone.

Cranford himself didn't drink, according to multiple associates, even if his antics sometimes fooled observers into assuming he was drunk. But he was happy to cavort and oblige lawmakers who did. He was a relic of the state's old booze-and-bubbas politics, when lobbyists held court into the wee hours, more comfortable in a bar than a boardroom.

Cranford may not have been the subject of "top lobbyist" profiles of top-tier, big-name movers and shakers, but in more recent years, he started pulling significant weight. The bigger lobbyists cast a wide net; Cranford zeroed in on a few foot soldiers and worked them hard. He contacted then-Rep. Hank Wilkins (D-Pine Bluff) by telephone 344 times from February 2013 to December 2013 alone. Wilkins was a pastor; Cranford joined his church. He bought lunch for the Public Health committee that his buddy Cooper chaired. He stayed up past closing time to shoot the breeze and then was back the next morning for testimony from state officials, in the back row feeding questions to his allies by text message.

Somewhere along the line, he reckoned that he could exert significantly more power if the lawmakers doling out public money were cut in on the paydays. There was always more juice if you knew who to squeeze.

According to government court filings, Cranford coordinated paying bribes to at least four sitting legislators, in addition to favors granted to Cooper at the end of his term in the House. Along with cash, checks and wire transfers, they were treated to other goodies. Cranford and his co-conspirators, for example, paid for a hotel stay in St. Louis and luxury box seats and tickets to the 2013 World Series for two lawmakers, former Sen. Jon Woods (R-Springdale) and Sen. Jeremy Hutchinson (R-Little Rock).

Woods, who was found guilty by a jury on federal corruption charges in May, was one of Cranford's most reliable operators in the legislature, and he received multiple cash payments from Cranford in 2013 (the total amount is not known). Prosecutors also presented evidence of more creative strategies that Cranford and his co-conspirators used to buy off Woods. After Woods helped deliver $400,000 in state grant money to an entity connected to Cranford, he emailed him, "Wanted you to see the good news." Cranford replied, "You did great bubba." Four months later, Cranford got Woods' fiancée a $70,000 job with AO/PFH affiliate Dayspring (when she left the position, her replacement was hired for half the salary).

Once her hire was arranged, AO/PFH's Tom Goss wrote Cranford, "Senator is taken care of. He is new bubba for our team."

Some of Woods' colleagues noticed that he was enjoying a lifestyle that seemed lavish for a legislator whose only other employment was a bit of consulting work. In 2013, former Rep. Micah Neal (R-Springdale) was impressed by Woods' Little Rock apartment, which was decorated with high-priced sports memorabilia, including items autographed by Pete Rose and Michael Jordan. Neal was hard up for money at the time. He asked Woods how he was scoring cash.

According to Neal, who pleaded guilty in January 2017, that's when Woods let him know about kickback schemes he had worked out, including a deal by which Cranford would cut them in on 20 percent of any public grant monies sent to entities of Cranford's choosing. In October, according to Neal, as reward for directing such funds, Woods handed off $20,000 in cash from Cranford to Neal.

Former Rep. Wilkins also received cash kickbacks for pursuing favorable legislation for Cranford and his clients, according to his own guilty plea in April. Most of the bribes —more than $80,000 — were hidden as donations to St. James United Methodist Church in Pine Bluff, where Wilkins was a pastor. Between 2010 and 2016, lobbying firms associated with Cranford made at least 29 deposits, between $1,000 and $5,000, into a discretionary account at the church that Wilkins controlled. Cranford also gave Wilkins envelopes containing around $5,000 in cash on multiple occasions. AO/PFH deposited $30,000 into the church discretionary account in December 2013. That same month, Wilkins wrote checks to himself from the account for more than $7,000 and paid more than $10,000 toward the balance on his personal Discover credit card.

By 2014, Cranford realized that he was being investigated by the FBI. According to Wilkins, Cranford arranged a meeting, saying that he would need to continue the payments to the church discretionary account even after Wilkins left the legislature — which Cranford did, through at least January 2016. According to Wilkins, Cranford said that he needed to make it "look like I wasn't paying you." Cranford told Wilkins to display a plaque on the wall of the church to state that Cranford had donated money for a church bookshelf.

Asked by auditors in 2015 about the $30,000 payment from AO/PFH to Wilkins' discretionary account, Tom Goss said it was a "donation to a youth summer program in Pine Bluff, United Methodist Church. That's about it."

A practicing attorney and part-time legislator

Between 2012 and 2017, according to Cranford's plea, a person identified as Senator A — acknowledged by his attorney to be Jeremy Hutchinson — received more than $500,000 from Cranford, his lobbying firms, AO/PFH and other Cranford clients (Cranford himself directly gave Hutchinson around $15,000 in cash). In early 2013, according to the federal information, Cranford pushed Tom Goss to hire Hutchinson as an attorney because having a senator on the payroll could be beneficial in advancing their agenda in the legislature. Hutchinson was put on retainer in April 2013 at $7,500 a month, which was bumped up to $9,000 a month by May 2014. Later that year, Hutchinson's uncle, Asa Hutchinson, was elected governor.

Hutchinson to date has not been charged and denies wrongdoing. It is not in dispute that Hutchinson was paid by AO/PFH and other Cranford clients, but such payments occupy a gray area in the state's ethics laws: fees ostensibly for private legal work, paid to a legislator who just so happens to also advocate for that client's interests in the legislature. According to the federal information, the arrangement between Cranford and Hutchinson was a quid pro quo: "Cranford offered and gave, directly and indirectly, cash; checks, wire transfers; retainers; attorney's fees; and professional referrals to [Hutchinson] in exchange for [Hutchinson] taking favorable legislative action on behalf" of Cranford and his clients.

In response to the insinuations in Cranford's plea, Hutchinson's attorney, Tim Dudley, stated, "It clearly mischaracterizes Mr. Hutchinson's work as a practicing attorney and part-time legislator. Mr. Hutchinson has done nothing illegal or unethical."

It is not against the law for a legislator to vote on bills that might impact a person or company that same legislator works for as a private attorney. However, ethics watchdogs have long warned that lawmakers who also work as private attorneys could be motivated to take actions in the legislature that happen to help their paying clients. Even if it's not a bribe under the law, the incentives could work in the same direction.

Hutchinson had something of a reputation for just this sort of arrangement: He participated in legislative action, for example, that benefited a mattress merchant and a maker of gambling machines, both clients. His legal work was on the up and up and separate from his legislative activities, Hutchinson said, but critics snickered that retainer fees might be buying help at the Capitol.

Hutchinson wasn't the only lawyer at the Capitol who blurred the lines. Former Senate President Pro Tem Michael Lamoureux (R-Russellville), for example, passed legislation benefiting rural telephone companies that also paid him as a private attorney.

Jerry Walsh, former executive director at South Arkansas Youth Services, another Cranford client, pleaded guilty to a federal corruption charge in July. According to the federal information, Cranford arranged for more than $120,000 to be paid in ostensible legal fees to an unnamed senator to help SAYS at the legislature. The senator described resembles Lamoureux, although this has not been definitively confirmed. According to Walsh, both Lamoureux and Hutchinson were employed by SAYS as attorneys. Lamoureux — who left the Senate to serve as Governor Hutchinson's chief of staff from 2014 until May 2016 — said he has done nothing wrong, telling the Arkansas Times after Walsh's plea was announced, "Neither legal fees nor campaign contributions have ever influenced my behavior as a public official."

Whatever the arrangement was, Cranford got a cut: According to Walsh's plea, Cranford and his lobbying firm received more than $130,000 in unauthorized payments. Walsh also gave Cranford's son sham jobs at SAYS, despite the fact that he failed a background check. He was not expected to do any work, according to Walsh's plea, but was paid more than $130,000 between 2013 and 2016.

It's done darling

Legislators on Cranford's payroll were utility players. In exchange for hundreds of thousands of dollars in purported legal fees, the federal information filed along with Cranford's plea alleges that Senator A [Hutchinson]'s services included "holding up agency budgets; requesting legislative audits; sponsoring, filing and voting for legislative bills; and influencing the award of [General Improvement Fund] funds to [AO/PFH] and Cranford clients."

Cranford's most significant victories often can't be traced to a particular piece of legislation, or a grant with a paper trail. If he wanted to fight against changes to Medicaid reimbursements, new rules for how patients were assessed, or policies for state oversight, the heavy lifting typically happened in backroom negotiations with executive branch officials. They would water down rules, delay new policies that could impact their bottom line, dicker and squeeze over any new regulation. Their foot soldiers in the General Assembly had the power to block agency decisions in the legislative review process. State officials knew it, so they would try to hammer out negotiated agreements rather than fight a battle they couldn't win against powerful lobbyists at the Capitol.

There is no public record of such horse-trading. Cranford might threaten to run a bill that would make life difficult for state regulators in order to win policy concessions. These were technical changes, deep in the weeds. Millions of dollars were at stake, but more often than not, even most legislators were unaware of what was happening.

In addition to manipulating the rules to increase revenues from the Medicaid pot, Cranford was likely also aiming to shield the nonprofit from oversight to hide overbilling schemes. An arrest affidavit by the state's Medicaid Fraud Control Unit alleged that another former AO/PFH executive, Robin Raveendran, engineered a multimillion-dollar overbilling scheme from 2014 through 2017, and that Raveendran and Cranford worked hand-in-hand to manipulate the legislative process to block state regulators from disrupting the scheme.

But Cranford's specialty was a more straightforward quid pro quo: the GIF giveaway. Cranford proved highly effective at gathering money from the General Improvement Fund — the now-defunct system that allowed individual legislators to allot surplus money from the state's general revenue to pet projects of their choosing. According to an analysis by the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, subsidiaries of AO/PFH received more in GIF money between 2013 and 2017 than any other entity in the state.

A good portion of this may have been legal, if greasy, arm-twisting and influence peddling. But in at least some cases, lawmakers were receiving a cut for directing grant money to AO/PFH and other Cranford clients. The circle of kickbacks typically gave Cranford a cut, as well. Act 791, for example, sponsored by Woods, enabled a $1 million grant for AO/PFH, for which Woods and Hutchinson sent letters of support. Woods also sent a letter of support for South Arkansas Youth Services to receive hundreds of thousands more. When AO/PFH was approved for the full $1 million requested, Cranford forwarded the approval to COO Bontiea Goss: "We are 100 percent funded in one lump sum. ... It's done darling, Money on way." On the same day that AO/PFH received the $1 million check, AO/PFH sent Cranford's lobbying firm, Cranford Coalition, a check for $187,175.

The bubbas on Cranford's team had their hands in a wide range of activities. A jury heard testimony at Woods' trial that Woods and Neal tried unsuccessfully to send $4.7 million in state grants and other public-interest loans to relocate Pro-1, a private company that repackaged and sold thermostats imported from China, from Springfield, Mo., to Northwest Arkansas. Turns out Tom and Bontiea Goss had an ownership stake in the company. Hutchinson, meanwhile, helped another Cranford client, Teach For America, secure a $3 million grant (Democratic gubernatorial candidate Jared Henderson was the executive director of the Arkansas branch of TFA at the time). TFA is not accused of wrongdoing, but the federal information implies that Hutchinson went to bat for that Cranford client in return for tens of thousands of dollars in purported legal fees that AO/PFH and two other Cranford clients were paying him at the time. The grant money for TFA came from the discretionary funds of Governor Hutchinson, Jeremy Hutchinson's uncle.

The Year of the Greed

The various pleas and indictments describe a dizzying array of kickback schemes to enrich Cranford and the other key players. According to Cranford's plea, an AO/PFH executive identified as Person 1 — who matches the description of CFO Tom Goss — greased the wheels for AO/PFH to dole out a massive contract to Cranford's lobbying firm for "consulting" in exchange for Cranford kicking back cash his way. Between 2013 and 2017, under Person 1's direction, the nonprofit paid the Cranford Coalition nearly $3 million. Cranford then paid kickbacks to Person 1 totaling $613,600, in cash and checks. Everyone wins.

Cranford used his position at AO/PFH to command a similar scheme, landing a "consulting" contract for the Pennsylvania lobbyist, D.A. Jones, to advocate for the nonprofit in Washington, D.C., for which he was paid $973,807 from 2011 to 2016. Jones in turn paid $264,000 in kickbacks to Cranford and Cooper. This was their formula: They would take in more public money, hand out exorbitant contracts, and then skim their own personal cut. More taxpayer money meant more to skim.

While there was subterfuge involved, Cranford's behavior ultimately suggests a man who believed he could get away with anything. One of the improper uses of AO/PFH's funds described in the federal information involved simply paying rent to Cranford for out-of-state properties he owned, supposedly for "executive leadership." Cranford ended up taking in more than $50,000 over an 18-month period for his vacation house in Florida. During the same period, the Cranford Coalition was paid nearly $200,000 for "training," as well as thousands more in lease payments for a house Cranford owned in Texas and another he owned in Arkansas.

Even if they didn't take outright bribes, legislators benefited from the nonprofit's largesse as well. Between March 26, 2013, and Jan. 6, 2016, Cranford made 54 transactions at Arthur's Prime Steakhouse in Little Rock with the nonprofit's credit card. He racked up bills totaling more than $15,000. The credit card was also used for thousands of dollars in fundraisers for candidates for the legislature and statewide office at Sims Bar-B-Que, Cajun's Wharf, the Capital Hotel and elsewhere.

At other times, they would hide such spending using Cranford's lobbying firm: When Cooper, then a representative, asked in 2010 to be paid back for a $500 contribution check to a political candidate and a $2,851 tab at a Texarkana restaurant (including more than 100 alcoholic beverage orders), Goss told Cranford, "that one is going to be tough to pay out of [AO/PFH]." He arranged for Cranford to send AO/PFH a phony bill from the Cranford Coalition to conceal the payment to Cooper.

Because AO/PFH operated as a 501(c)(3) charity, it was exempt from federal income taxes and was prohibited from making contributions to political campaigns. According to court filings, Cranford and other AO/PFH executives flouted that prohibition for years, using Cranford's lobbying firm to route tens of thousands of dollars in clandestine campaign contributions, which would then be reimbursed via AO/PFH funds.

"Welcome to campaign season," Cranford wrote to Tom Goss in 2012, attaching nine checks totaling $7,000 sent from the Cranford Coalition to the campaigns of incumbent Arkansas legislators. "The YEAR of The Greed is what it is called! ... This is contributions well spent."

AO/PFH executives likewise attempted to conceal the lobbying activities that Cranford and D.A. Jones were doing on the nonprofit's behalf, according to court filings, in order to dodge certain limits and reporting requirements on lobbying that the IRS imposes for 501(c)(3) organizations.

In the federal information on Cranford, prosecutors describe what appear to be smoking-gun emails on the slapdash efforts to conceal lobbying activity and political contributions behind phony "consulting" and "training" arrangements. AO/PFH CEO Marilyn Nolan at one point wrote to Cranford, "Do not — and I repeat — do not — put lobbying on another invoice — just put consultation or training and development." She also became alarmed when an AO/PFH staffer asked how to expense reimbursement payments for campaign contributions Cranford had made. "We cannot call contribution. ... I do not like her inferring contribution," Nolan wrote to the Gosses, flagging the problem. "Rusty told me he thought you were calling consultation."

"I told her consult and training," Tom Goss replied. "Will send again."

He needs to be gone

By 2017, AO/PFH's leadership had been informed that the nonprofit was the subject of a federal investigation. On June 2, 2017, Cranford signed a settlement agreement terminating his contract. As part of the settlement, AO/PFH forgave a $35,000 debt (Cranford failed to reimburse AO/PFH after a Missouri state senator returned an unlawful campaign contribution that Cranford had made on the nonprofit's behalf); repaid him $165,000 for personal expenditures that he described as "reasonable legal fees and expenses ... on matters subject to company advancement"; and paid him a final settlement of $400,000.

According to Cranford's attorneys, the feds undertook a "relentless pursuit of Mr. Cranford," trying again and again over a period of years to get him to cooperate. "That pressure has continued to escalate," his attorney Nathan Garrett told a judge in March 2018, when Cranford initially pleaded not guilty. "They have sought his cooperation repeatedly. Each time upping the ante. Each time suggesting that Mr. Cranford's situation is worse than it was the last time."

When his co-conspirator Jones pleaded guilty in December, Cranford knew that the noose was tightening. He complained to an old family friend that Jones had "cut himself a deal" and was a "snitching motherfucker."

Unfortunately for Cranford, this old acquaintance, who had known Cranford's father and Cranford in his youth, was a confidential FBI informant who was secretly recording his conversations with Cranford. The informant was referred to in court as Person A, or "Uncle X." Cranford was aware of his criminal background: Uncle X had prior felony convictions for aggravated robbery, assault and aggravated battery with a dangerous weapon, among other charges, and had been under suspicion for murder. The feds paid him $3,000 and $17,800 in relocation expenses for providing information on Cranford.

During rambling conversations with Uncle X, Cranford said that the feds believed he had significant political clout. He boasted that a few years prior, he had managed to arrange an early release from prison for an old high school buddy who was locked up on a murder charge, after Cranford was hired by the family to help. "I got a motherfucker that killed somebody ... just got him out of prison," Cranford told Uncle X. "He killed a boy in Fouke, Arkansas ... about seven years ago ... wrapped him up in a ... rug, and threw him in Mercer Bayou down there in Fouke."

According to Uncle X, in January 2018, Cranford told him that he had a job for him. He said there was a lot of money in it, and he "would like it." Uncle X asked if he would need a "piece." Cranford said he would provide him with a gun.

They met at Uncle X's house and Cranford confided that he was worried that Jones would testify against him. "He needs to be gone," Cranford told him. The sound of Cranford flipping through cash is audible toward the end of the recording as the two arranged to meet again. According to Uncle X, Cranford gave him $500 as an initial down payment on a planned agreement to murder Jones.

When Cranford was arrested, in addition to the 45-caliber pistol, prescription pills and $17,700 in cash, federal agents found two loan request forms for $10,000 from the cash value of his life insurance policy. Later investigation revealed that the pistol had been illegally purchased by someone with a felony conviction in the fall of 2013. He gave Cranford the gun later that year, around Christmas (the man who gave him the gun is now incarcerated in the Federal Bureau of Prisons for an unrelated crime). Prosecutors would later argue that it is "very well-suited for use as a murder weapon" because it is easy to conceal, powerful, and does not leave spent shell casings.

Cranford was charged in the Western District of Missouri, and the government argued that Cranford should be held without bail, contending that he had tried to hire Uncle X to murder D.A. Jones (no charge has been filed in the alleged plot). They also alleged that he had previously attempted to tamper with witnesses — Jones and Wilkins — and, when those efforts were unsuccessful, exhibited signs of preparing to flee, including growing out and dyeing his hair. Previously, Cranford's hair was gray, short, spikey and gelled. Upon his arrest, his hair was dark, and coiffed in the fashion of Rod Stewart. Garrett, his defense attorney, said that Cranford had always dyed his hair. Assistant U.S. Attorney Steven Mohlhenrich responded, "You know, maybe Mr. Cranford was having a bad hair day on the day he was arrested ... but the government would suggest there is a change in his appearance."

Garrett told the court that Uncle X was unreliable and that it was unrealistic to imagine that such a pathetic character (Uncle X told Cranford that he had no car and had to hitchhike to the grocery store) would be hired to murder a lobbyist in the Philadelphia area. Garrett argued that Cranford's shady activity wasn't evidence that he was behaving unusually or was a flight risk — he was just a shady character. Rusty being Rusty.

"He has not hidden the fact that he is a man who commonly deals in cash," Garrett explained to the judge. "$17,000 is nothing unusual."

"I would venture to guess," Garrett argued, "that we could back a semi-truck up to this courthouse and fill it full of [currency transaction reports] and suspicious activity reports over the years of Mr. Cranford."

On March 29, U.S. Magistrate Judge David Rush denied bail for Cranford, concluding that Cranford was a flight risk and that the allegations of witness tampering and murder for hire were credible. By June, Cranford had enough and pleaded guilty to bribery. No date has yet been set for sentencing, and he remains in the Greene County Jail.

AO/PFH continued to receive millions of dollars from Arkansas taxpayers for months after the Jones plea revealed the extent of the top-level corruption. In late June, three weeks after Cranford pleaded guilty, Raveendran was arrested and the state finally pulled the plug. "We had received assurances that they had cleaned house," Governor Hutchinson said at the time, explaining why it took more than six months to take action.

On his recorded conversations with Uncle X, Cranford complained that if you Googled his name, he was "in the fucking paper every other week. ... I really thought that I was gonna ... end the year with my being one of the top three stories in the state of Arkansas. That's how fucking much publicity I don't want, I've got."

The story isn't over yet.

"While Raveendran was a key leader of this scheme ... the State does not believe he acted alone," the arrest warrant for Raveendran stated. An investigation into Cranford, his associates, and "the connections with several Medicaid providers" is ongoing, according to the Medicaid Fraud Control Unit, which acted on a tip from federal investigators. Meanwhile, the feds are mum, but speculation runs high that their own investigation continues apace.

"Unfortunately," Arkansas Attorney General Leslie Rutledge said at a press conference announcing Raveendran's arrest, "this is a very large, tangled web."

This reporting is courtesy of the Arkansas Nonprofit News Network, an independent, nonpartisan project dedicated to producing journalism that matters to Arkansans. Find out more at arknews.org.

The saga of Rusty Cranford

#The saga of Rusty Cranford