Sympathy For The Devil - Pete Davidson {FINISHED}

1.3

edited <3

make out monday - kissaphobic 

      There was this magnetic pull but I'm sure neither of us knew it was there, it just appeared. It was compelling, this thing that was going on in-between us. I didn't know what it was and he didn't either but that wasn't important. Our lips never met, they never have and they surely didn't this time.

    His eyes were sunken in just like always but this time they were darker in a haunting way. Whether it was a trick of the lighting or not, his eyes were black. And his hands, still having me pinned up against the wall that I surely wouldn't escape. It was like a game to him. A dark twisted game that he would always win.

      "You pretty little fool." His thumb swipes over my bottom lip in almost a taunting way as he continued to stare down at me with that dark look in his eyes.

       The world outside of us seemed to move on with ease with whatever they were doing but it felt like Pete and I were stuck in a frame. A painting. Oil or acrylic, it didn't matter, we were stuck and possibly destined to not move past this point. If we did it'd be a fucking miracle. 

      Like I said before, it was like a game to him. The way his thumb moved across my lips, to my cheek, and then to the back of my head where he gripped my hair roughly. His plump lips met my neck but not my own lips.

      But two could play a game if that's truly what he wanted to do.

      The key to a good game is to play along with the rules. Until you reach the end; where you make your own rules. Act like you're loosing until the last minute where you flip it onto your opponent. 

       "Pete.." My breath fanning out against his unruly hair, "You have a bed right there." 

      His eyes flicker up to my own with a smirk on his face as he easily grabs onto my hand and practically pushes me against the silk covered bed. They were black, of course, adding onto the dark factor of the room. But it was so welcoming against the skin as if you were sinking into the ocean, it just engulfs you the moment you make contact. Into a sea of darkness full of lust and no control.

     At first it was nothing. Then his lips were on my neck once again. Trailing down the opening of my shirt, before that feeling disappeared next. There was no stopping the inevitable now, the game had begun.

      My fingers delicately trail up the hem of his shirt and he doesn't dare stop me from taking the article of clothing off of him. Hundreds of different art work detailed his torso as well as his arms that was usually covered by fabric. It was absolutely beautiful.

      He must've gotten bored of my staring because he immediately goes back to what he was doing beforehand; marking my skin. Marking my skin with his beautiful tongue that left his own trail of art behind. An art that couldn't be seen by others but God did the both of us know it was there.

      Before I know it the contact is gone as well are my pants. I was left in only a pair of underwear now whereas he was still half-clothed. Giving him a look I lean up towards him and begin undoing the button to the jeans that clung to his legs. His hand grips onto my own stopping me almost immediately.

      "You were fucking foolish today, you know that?" His face rests inches away from mine with his breath fanning against my skin but yet still not his lips. "So fucking foolish." Pushing me back down onto the sheets his body towers over me. I could barely see his face though due to the dark setting, he seemed almost like an oblivion in the shadows. An oblivion that would end up ruining me and have no remorse at all.