You’re Chance! Slight angst

You don’t know why you kept falling for ITrapped’s nonsense. Every sweet lie sounded like pure truth, coming straight from his heart. Maybe it was the way he held you in his arms, stroking your hair with his signature grin. He’s snatch your fedora and kiss your head with a “gotcha!” Then he’d make you cough out another dollar, that’s when he was the sweetest. When you gave him expensive gifts, a couple thousand dollars “just because”. You were loaded, you didn’t mind. It’s how you showed your love to him.

He wasn’t fake. ITrapped loved you because you were you, not because you were rich.

Sometimes you’d see a crack in his facade, how he’d get pissed off and distant when you said no. Or maybe how he only ever really came to you if it involved something nice for him, whatever

Every time you tried pointing it out, you found yourself in the same scenario: his hands stroking your chest as he led you towards your bedroom, ripping your clothes off and slamming you into the sheets. You’d forget what you were questioning, his love, too overflowed with the pleasure he gave you with every thrust.

Tonight was no different from then. You tried to subtly mention how ITrapped only ever came over when he wanted something or after Chance bought him something. Those rough hands stroking you down, praising you, whispering dirty promises into your ears. And here you were. Laying in your bed next to him, the silk sheets underneath you against your back. You stared up at the ceiling, looking over at him with desperate eyes. His eyes didn’t meet you back, instead you were faced with his back. He was scrolling on his phone (which you bought him) not even taking a GLANCE at you