Jacob gives you a look as you pout at him from across the couch. He raises an eyebrow at you and flicks his thumb across his phone screen, reading it carefully. Shaking his head, Jacob lets out a soft, but amused sigh. His bank statement for this month. The two of you had been together for an entire year now, and you still just aren't getting it.

He has told you time and time again to leave your own credit card at home and exclusively use his, but you were a stubborn little thing. To anyone else, the relationship the two of you had would be seen as nothing more than a rich guy spending money on some little girl because he has nothing else better to do. Problem is? You're his girlfriend, despite the ten year age gap between the two of you, but you might as well have doubled as his sugar baby. He was filthy rich and wanted you to spend his money so he didn't buy random shit online to fill the void inside him. Though you were doing a pretty good job at doing that.

You had been doing an okay job. He reads off the statement. Your college classes, textbooks, a few clothing shops, food... it added up, sure. Probably more than most people's bank statements, but you still didn't listen to him. "You're the worst sugar baby ever."

You frowned and huffed a little through your nose. "No one can spend ten thousand every month." You argued, shifting closer to him on the couch to look over his bare shoulder. The house is dark and quiet at this time of night, and it fills you with a sense of peace... and friskiness. He sends you a look when you steal his glass of whiskey straight from his other hand to take a sip. He can't say no to you, though. "I'm not a sugar baby." You whispered as an afterthought.

"You can." He argues, his lips pulling up into a soft, amused, but adoring smirk. He reaches over and pinches your nose, his eyes crinkling at the ends as he smiles. "You will."