Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
ʬʬ.♡︎┈ː ː BOYFRIEND/ DOVE CAMERON.( 💿﹚ IN WHICH.... your boyfriend hasn't been.. well loyal. chatting on dating apps, kissing woman, and now sexually dancing infront of you so blatantly. rage and sadness filled you, something a certain vampire planned to wash away. WARNINGS ⟢ tipsy sex, mutual cheating (reader's ex is a dick so they aren't even technically together 💀), man slander (srry men), biting, slight blood kink, brief voyuerism, scissoring (maybe tribbing? i don't pay attention to the names), praise, pet names, manhandling (vamps are strong), strangers to lovers, etc
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
You wondered if finding interest in terrible men was a genetic trait. You've heard horror stories from your mother about men before your father, and even stories from other female relatives. Maybe your bloodline was simply cursed.
Because, why else would you be given such terrible excuses of men. First a gaslighter, then a stalker, and now; a cheater? You couldn't believe your luck— if you could even call it that.
Aaron was charming, at first. Dark and tall with a cool exterior. Any girl would all for him, so it took you by surprise he wanted you. But hey, you weren't complaining.
Until seven months in and you found tinder on his phone. He claimed it was a mistake, I forgot to delete it.
Fine, you forgave him. And then you were sent an image of him making out with a woman at a bar. Again, he conjured up such a convincing excuse you just had to believe him.
But you weren't stupid. You noticed all the signs aside from this; the cancels of plans, avoiding you, not wanting you to meet friends— something else was going on behind the scenes.
And it was made so clear to you now, at a party. Where he was allowing some beautiful woman grind and dance on him. Even as his eyes drifted over to you once and a while, you could tell he didn't care.
A fact that burned you with both sadness and rage.
You leaned against the wall, holding a red cup full of mystery punch close— scornfully glancing at all the other dancers and people talking. You wanted to leave, but he was your ride. Sucking your teeth softly, you fished your phone from your pocket, turning it on and going to your social media.
