its-echo-song

[its-echo-song]

Childhood AU Prologue

Idk if you guys would want the first chapter to this, I'm considering publishing a lot of my wips that only have a chapter or two to maybe gain a little motivation to move them along.

Middle school sucks, especially when you’re moving to a crappy apartment in a new state because your dad died and your mom can’t pay the bills. I don’t hold it against her, obviously it’s not an easy time for either of us. She got offered a job here and she accepted, so now I’m the new kid showing up in the middle of the school year.

Which really means that school life hasn’t been easy so far. I’m a few weeks into it and I haven’t made any friends. I guess everyone already has their group, and I’m just here on the outside watching. It’s fine, meeting new people makes me nervous anyway, and I can always dig into a good book. It bothers me sometimes, like when I have nobody to eat with at lunch, but I’ve started practicing origami to keep my hands and mind busy. Mostly, though, I’m trying to fly under the radar. It’s much easier said than done, it feels like the spotlight is entirely on me at all times. Which is my problem right now. There are no empty tables today, and I’m standing with my lunchbox in my hands, a book, and nowhere to sit- I feel nauseous, like maybe I should just give up on lunch altogether. It’s not worth trying to sit with strangers, even if I have classes with them. I recognize a few kids, but they’re already with their friends and I’d be intruding. I sigh, glancing back towards the hallway. Maybe I just go sit somewhere quiet, where it’s not quite so overwhelming. I start heading that way, but a teacher stops me, telling me to stay in the lunchroom unless I need to go to the bathroom. I want to lie and say that I need to but at this point it would be obvious that I’m just trying to leave. “Do you want me to find you a seat?” She asks, looking out at the tables. “No! I mean- I’m okay.” She arches an eyebrow at me but returns to leaning against the door frame, watching the lunchroom. I try to get a little further from her sights, off toward a corner. Maybe I’ll just sit on the floor.

I look down at the shiny, cold, tile and sigh. It’s this or nothing, I guess. So I sit, back against the wall and with my legs crossed like a pretzel. I open my lunch and pull out the sandwich I’d made last night, taking a bite awkwardly. There’s a table of girls nearby, despite my trying to sit as far away from them as possible I’m still close enough to be noticed. One of the girls sneers at me, then says something to her friend on the other side of her, they burst into laughter. I feel my face flush hot instantly, I’m over exposed and they won’t stop looking over and laughing.

I throw my sandwich back in its bag, then into the lunchbox. I stand and start trying to put distance between us, clutching my lunchbox to my chest and walking briskly with my eyes fixed on the floor. I’m trying not to cry, the humiliation suffocating me like a thick cloud of hot steam. And then I run directly into someone, knocking his drink out of his hand. It splatters on the floor, splashing both of us in the soda that was within, it pools out of the can and he lets out a noise of frustration. “Dude!” My heart drops to the pit of my stomach and a rush of panic races through my body. I bend to try and pick it up quickly, to at least prevent the mess from getting bigger- apparently he had the same idea. Our heads smack together and he flinches back, putting a hand up on his forehead. “Fuck! Just- move.” I stumble back a few steps, he grabs the can and gives me a final look of annoyance. His friends are watching the spectacle from the table, exchanging questioning glances. “You okay?” One of them asks, peering at his forehead as he seats himself back at the table. “Yeah- just annoyed.” “He owes you another drink.” She replies, and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll just buy another one after school.” Another friend wrinkles her nose up at me. Leaning in and saying something to the group in a low voice so I can’t catch it. It processes a little too late that I’m just standing next to their table, listening to them. “I-I’m sorry-” The guy I originally ran into glances over and then turns away from me- I should leave. I do my best to keep my retreat at a dignified pace- trying not to look like I’m running away, despite the embarrassment that’s swallowing me whole. I’m starting to run out of corners of the lunch room to hide out in. I scan the room over again and accidentally make eye contact with my teacher. I give her a fake smile and a thumbs up, hoping she doesn’t see through it. I make my way to the corner and sit, focusing my attention down at my lap, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, trying to let the humiliation die down.  I wish I could turn invisible. I wish nobody noticed me. It’s not like I’m trying to bother anyone, I just want to be left alone.

It’s that final thought that pulls the tears from my eyes, as I pull my knees up and huddle into myself to hide my face from the rest of the room. I hope they think I’m sleeping, or really anything but crying. I don’t want to be the weird kid who just sits by himself and cries- I know that’s who I am but I don’t want them thinking it.

I try to wipe my tears on my sleeves discreetly, sniffling and waiting for an eternity for the bell to ring so I can finally go to class. The best thing about assigned seating, I don’t have to play any social games, I just have a spot that’s mine every time.

“Are you okay?” I look up, a ginger-haired boy looks down at me with concern. This is exactly what I didn’t want.

I nod, trying to give him the same smile I’d given my teacher but he shakes his head.

“Why are you crying?” He sits down next to me- I scoot a little bit further from him.

“I’m not.” It’s obvious, I don’t know why I’m lying to him. Though, I guess the shock of being approached has completely stopped the crying, so maybe I’m not technically a liar. I rest my chin on my knees, wrapping my arms around my legs and watching the rest of the lunchroom.

“It’s okay. Sometimes I cry, too. School can be weird like that. There was one time where I exploded my pudding all inside my locker and I had to spend the entire lunch cleaning it up, it was all over everything! I was so upset, and I didn’t even get to eat lunch, so I was also hungry. You know what? I bet spiderman doesn’t spill his pudding everywhere. Do you like spiderman? He’s one of my favorites-”

I glance over at him, more confused now than put off by him. “What?”

“Oh, do you not know who spiderman is? That’s okay, I can explain! So there’s this comic book series-”

“No- I know who- how did you get spiderman from talking about pudding?”

“Uh- actually, I don’t really know. It just sorta popped into my head.”

I let out a small laugh. “For no reason?”

“Well, I guess I like him a lot?”

I stare at him for a moment and he smiles widely. “I’m Donny. Just so you don’t have to call me spiderman boy. That would be a lame nickname. But if you think of any good nicknames I need one! Donny is just the short version of my full name, so it’s not really an official nickname like if I called someone who was really good at homework ‘smart-guy’ or something, you know?”

Do I? He talks so fast- “Oh! Hey, we have the same shoes! Or, the same kind, they’re different colors.” He kicks his foot out and laughs. “But that doesn't matter! It’s like we were meant to be friends!”

Friends? He’s already made up his mind and I’ve hardly had to say anything at all. “Oh- I-I guess.”

“You know what we should do? We should switch shoe laces, so you’ll have a blue one and I’ll have a green one.”

“Uh- why would we do that?”

“For fun, why not? Wouldn’t it be cool?”

“Uh- sure, I guess.”

“Great!” He leans over and starts untying his shoe.

“Oh! Right now!? In the lunchroom?”

He freezes, looking over at me. “Yeah?”

“Won’t- won’t people think it’s weird?”

“I hope they do! Good! Weird is great!”

I laugh again, the self-assurance makes me feel a little bit better. “Well, alright then. Sure.”

I start pulling the laces off my shoe, he’d chosen his left so I choose my right, and we swap.

And just like that, I’ve found myself a best friend. 

[its-echo-song]

Plague AU Ch. 7

Just a little reminder!!!!! This is fiction, these boys in this particular AU are not any sort of relationship to strive for- my writing about these behaviors does not equate to me endorsing them. That said, please enjoy some drama lmao

Three days, three nights, a singular bowl of stew, seven bottles of wine, and a self loathing that doesn’t seem to find its way out of my bones.

I want to rot, just me and several loose pieces of parchment with new, poorly done, drawings of a man I regret missing. Drawings I’m sure will also serve as tender for the fire at a later date.

But I can’t simply remain here, a drunken mess of apathy, hunger, and abandoned desire. No, I must make my way into the world again- I’m out of wine.

Unfortunately, wine costs money, money is scarce now that I’ve been missing from work for thirteen days and… I really don’t have my pick of professions. I eye the plague doctor outfit, dreading the stuffy heat- nowhere near as much as I dread the possibility of seeing Donny. I sigh and set to my task, pulling on the ensemble and making my way into town.

It’s strange starting the day without the routine I’d gotten so used to, a daily dose of brightness in a person before I step into a world full of death. It’s even more off putting realizing how much I’d relied on him, helping me carry boxes, move patients, or generally acting like an extra set of hands. 

I catch myself starting to call his name out of habit, the beginnings of it falling from my mouth like a stone to the ground when I realize I should not. I spend most of the day working on my own, occasionally being assisted by another keeper- one who doesn’t know the ritual the way Donny does. He gets in the way, needs direction, doesn’t just act the way Donny would- I try not to give in to the frustration that finds itself settling into my blood. Then, as I’m instructing him on where to move supplies, I finally see Donny. I don’t think he even realizes I’m here, which is for the better, but the sight of him alone is an icy shock of adrenaline throughout my whole body- enough to make me stumble over my words and restart my sentence.  I can’t bring myself to drag my attention away from him, wonderment at his state tugging me into a steady flow of flaws in logic. It’s not going to hurt anything to observe from across the room, I just want to be sure he’s okay.

Except he glances over his shoulder, catching me staring at him. I shift my gaze away, hopeful that he’ll assume I’m just another plague doctor, that he won’t realize it’s me. All things considered, from a distance I should be strikingly unremarkable.

I hazard a glance back over- I would bristle like a startled cat if I had the ability to. His eyes are still locked onto me but now he’s considerably less cheerful. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at the slight scowl that appears as he turns his attention elsewhere.

My heart clenches in my chest- not that I’d deluded myself into believing he’d suddenly forgive me and all would be well but… well, hope is a foolish thing, doesn’t understand its boundaries even with stern reminders. Hope and I share the same stupidity, in this instance.

Several days go by this way, no contact with each other and nothing but quick glances at the other. At this point, the keeper who had started filling Donny’s role is getting better at his job- able to easily carry out his duties without much direction.

This is when I start to notice a strange behavior in Donny, nearly scavenger-esque like a jackal in the way he waits to swoop in and take the work from the other keeper. I observe this behavior, finding a finite amusement in both the determination he displays, and the astonishment of the other man who is eager to work less.

So as Donny tries to make his way over as if he doesn’t care at all, I intercept. I step in stride beside him, not missing the tension in his demeanor as I do so. “What are you doing?” I ask casually, like nothing has happened, as if we’ve always only been coworkers.

He glares down at me and I enjoy the redness in his face, a true marker that I’ve gotten under his skin in some aspect. “My job. Remember? What we’re here to do.”

“I thought Michael took care of it quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

He makes no response, only looks ahead of him as he walks.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like Michael?”

“I have no opinion.”

“You wouldn’t be jealous, right?”

He stops abruptly, grip tightening on the handles of the box he holds. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well I’m just saying-”

“-you have no right.”

I hit the nail on the head, it seems. “Why be so touchy, then?”

He glances around him and places the box on the nearest table –too hard, it clatters loudly and I worry that something might’ve broken– then he turns to me with a fury I didn’t expect, nose wrinkled in disgust. “What do you want, Ha-”

I slap my hand over his mouth, sheer instinct and panic, the action preceded the adrenaline that spikes through my body. His eyes go wide for a fraction of a second, then he grabs my wrist and pulls it from his face, turning and marching with me in tow. I don’t have much option in this situation, wrenching from his grip would be impossible even on a day where he’s less irritated at me.

He pulls open a door, drawing me into a dim and abandoned hallway before slamming it shut behind us and shoving me in front of him. I stumble a few steps before turning to look at him, running a hand gently along the tender bruise that started along my wrist.

I didn’t realize how intimidating Donny was, not fully, not until now. He stands over me with a scowl across his face, fierce and steely. I feel adrenaline give way to sheer terror as I start to understand the situation I find myself in. “Why are you here?”

“I-I needed work.”

“So you come back? You come back and-” He sighs harshly, pulling my mask off and I gasp at the motion, watching helplessly as he throws it to the floor with a strange crackling sound– glass on cobble. “You come back here and stare at me all day? I’m just supposed to be okay being watched like that?”

I stumble over my words for a moment, taking a retreating step back. “I… didn’t mean to. I just… You’re hard not to watch.”

His glare softens slightly, calculation evident in the way his eyes flicker over me, measuring the weight of my words. He’s probably trying to decide if I’m honest or not. “Why is that?”

I swallow, flushing and staring down at my feet, unable to meet his eyes anymore. “I don’t- you’re just interesting, I don’t know…”

“You need to find somewhere else to work. I’m not your damn experiment anymore.”

My heart clutches in my chest, a sickly-sharp pang of sadness resonates throughout my core. “No- I don’t- I can’t.” I look up at him again, feeling a familiar pull that hasn’t left me since the first time I’ve seen him, cursing the feeling. “Please don’t.”

He flinches slightly at this. “What, are you willing to admit I’m not just research anymore?”

I grit my teeth, fighting the rush of frustration that is prompted by the accusation. He was never simply research, but admitting to him is admitting to me– I don’t want to start down the same path as I’d walked before, let one person be the thing that causes everything to crumble. “I’ve never said anything different, I don’t know where-”

“We’re done. I’m not sitting around and being drawn for hours just for your fake science, I’m not willing to be lied to.” He turns and starts making his way back to the door and I grab at his wrist before he reaches it.

“Please! Donny!”

“What!?” He turns on his heel, pulling his arm from my grasp. “Goddamnit, what!?”

“I- I’m not just- it’s real science. I’m-” He turns away again and I feel the desperation welling up inside me, overflowing like water at a boil. “I burned them! I burned the drawings! I won’t draw you again!”

There’s a long silence before Donny looks down at me over his shoulder. His countenance shifts from the anger he’d felt to confusion, to sadness. “You… burned them?”

“Yes. I don’t- I don’t have any- I mean, none that you’d posed for. They’re gone.”

“Why would you do that?” There’s an edge of hurt in his tone now, I’m starting to question my choices.

“I- I didn’t- I thought you would be happy about that…”

“You’re right- nothing but research.” He steps through the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. I watch him walk away for a moment before I realize I’m not wearing my mask. I shove the door closed, turning and walking over to my mask, crouching beside it. When I pick it up I notice one of the eyepieces is cracked, spiderweb fractures dancing throughout it.

I sigh, fitting it back over my face and taking a moment to stand in the silence of the empty hallway.

I didn’t realize it’d hurt him the way it did. I feel like I should apologize but- why should I apologize for doing as I please with my own things? It’s not like he drew them.

I open the door, doing a quick scan of the room and realizing with a slight sinking feeling in my stomach that Donny is gone. I ask a nearby keeper where he went and she shrugs. “Home, I think. Didn’t really stop to talk to someone.”

I thank her and make my way to the box he’d placed on the table- a glass did break, there’s salt coating the bottom, shards of glass scattered throughout it. I bring the box back to the supply room – less of an official storage space and more of a small room with more than one cleared bookshelf– and start taking all the other containers out, placing them on shelves. I start picking glass out from the basket, placing the shards in a cloth I’d laid out to the side.

In hindsight, removing gloves to allow myself extra dexterity was not my brightest move. I should know better, now I’m staring down at a large slice cut into my fingertip and trying to grit my teeth through the intense burning of the salt. I swear roundly, several times, shaking my hand and clutching a fist with the other. Goddamn useless, shitty, day.

I wrap the wound in gauze, frustrated and feeling as if nothing good could possibly happen today.

I think, at this point, I need an early day as well.

I head outside, walking the familiar path, a pace that has purpose with it, fueled by emotion more than by energy.

When I get far enough away, I pull my mask off and allow the pain to finally hit in full. I walk off the path, down to the riverbed, and sit in the dirt. Here, I allow myself to cry. Not simply tearful, but wretched, in a way that makes me feel as if my lungs may burst, like I can’t find any air, like the world has completely closed in around me and I am left with my misery.

I sit on the riverbank until the sun sets, staring at the passing of time before my eyes, counting minutes by the number of clouds in the sky, then by how many stars appear.

Then I stand and continue on my way, walking on autopilot, not realizing until I’m there where my feet were carrying me.

[its-echo-song]

Sorry I have to repost this cause look at this beautiful wording ack

He’s just a bit obsessive, that’s all.

(Not vampire just a bit kinky)

[its-echo-song]

I just finished fully catching up on Aura of Life and I want to express how much I ADORE your writing. As a writer myself I hope my writing can communicate emotion and feels as much as yours does.

Anyway that’s all so, have a good day :}

!!! Thank you!!

<3 it took a LOT of trial and error to get where I am now, but it's always so nice to hear from people who feel something from my writing.

I went and took a little glance at some of the writing you have up on your page and it's GOOD! I love the way you write things, you have interesting and dynamic phrasing and your characters feel so very raw and human. Keep up the great work <3 <3

[its-echo-song]

Was drawing Jon (from the magnus archives) for other reasons but remembered that I hate doing line art so decided to render and eye-ify it and make a glitchy gif.

The file name for this gif is HelloJonApologiesfortheDeception.GIF lol

Better quality video and drawings below

[its-echo-song]

In case you guys were wondering what’s going on

Plague au doesn’t HAVE a chapter seven yet

I’m working on it but currently my attention is being pulled in other directions lmao

[its-echo-song]

Ooooh LOOK AT HIM !!!!!

I've been obsessing over @tuna-jsgross 's art and @its-echo-song 's fic. Honestly the stars must've aligned for such a perfect artist duo to find eachother :')

Anyway, thanks to both of you for motivating me to do some digital art (of course, very influenced by Tuna's art). My computer broke recently and drawing on an old laptop has been a laggy hell, but this was worth it :D

[its-echo-song]

My favorite sex position is any of them. I’m just glad to be involved

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the older i get, the more i need time & personal space to be as boring as possible

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early morning archivist doodles

comms open!

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Hotel Room One Shot

Hey guys! I did a little bit of a spicier rewrite of one of my chapters from Aura of Life and decided maybe to just post it here for fun. If that's not your thing, feel free to skip this one. Though, I will say, it fades to black so I would rate this mature but not explicit. As always Donny belongs to @tuna-jsgross

We stumble our way into the hotel, giggling and dancing our way down the hallways to our room. We’d taken a cab, leaving the truck in the parking lot of the restaurant, and now we’re ready to retire for the evening. 

Donny’s loosened his tie, unbuttoned a few buttons off the top of his shirt, and his hair has fallen loose of the gel’s feeble attempts to hold it in a slicked-back style. All things considered, even in his mussed state, Donny looks lovely in formal wear. 

“I should ask you to dress like this more often.” I coo at him, pulling his tie completely undone with a gentle swoosh of the fabric and tossing it over his shoulder. He grins down at me, lopsided, blushing, and full of roguishness. 

“Yeah? It’s not my favorite but if you like it I guess it wouldn’t kill me.” 

“Oh, ‘like it’ is an understatement- I could stare at you all night. I think I just did, actually.” 

He laughs, pulling an arm around me and unlocking the door to our room. “You love to stare when you’re drunk.”

“Because you’re intoxicating- the most handsome man in the world.” 

He opens the door and I gesture widely for him to enter. 

“Dork- you’re going to give me a big head.”

“Never. You can’t call it an ego if it's a simple fact.”

“Flatterer.” He states as he loosens my tie, pulling it off and placing it aside. A moment later, his joins it, pulled off his shoulder and tossed with far less care than mine. “How do I get more of that to happen?”

I pull his jacket off his shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek as I do. “Just keep being how you are, I can’t help it.” 

“Can’t help it, now?”

“I mean- look at you-” I gesture at him, he flushes slightly- but his grin does not fade in the least. I turn and hang his coat in the closet, taking mine off and hanging it next to his. The size difference is almost laughable. 

“I say it a lot but I love you- you don’t understand.”

I laugh now, turning back to fix him with a look. “Whatever do you mean? Like I don’t feel the same? I’m also quite enraptured, remember?” 

“Mm, but I think it’s impossible for you to understand how I feel, anyway.” He walks over and grabs me by the waist, pulling me close and giving me a kiss. I’m unsure, entirely, if my head spins because of the dopamine or because of the alcohol. I hear myself giggle, pulling him back in by the collar of his shirt. I’m not particularly concerned with the details of the cause of my joy at the moment.

He picks me up, the same as when we’d had our first kiss, my stomach does a flip of excitement and for a moment I forget all else as I wrap my legs around his waist-

Until there’s a loud thud and I realize a few moments after that it was the sound of my head hitting the wall- I only process it by the way Donny is apologizing and asking if I’m okay. 

“This seems to be a rough ride.” I comment, intertwining my finger through one of his loose waves, curling the strand around it. “I’m not sure if I trust the driver anymore.”

He laughs gently, burying his head into my neck, bracing himself against the wall. The whiskers of his beard tickle, sending goosebumps across my flesh. I do my best to hold back the giddy laughter from it. 

“Sorry. Are you okay? Really.”

“Yes, I’m fine. But perhaps we aren’t sober enough for that- as much as I like being tossed around.”

“I’m very invested in you enjoying being thrown around, Harv.” He teases with an arched eyebrow.

This causes the blood to rush to my face, the tone of his voice catches me off guard. “Yeah, well, what if I want to do what you like?”

“Me.” He draws back and meets my gaze. “Easy answer, do me.”

I laugh, full bodied and joyful, appreciating the gleam in his eyes when I react this way to him. “Yeah? What do you want me to do with you?”

He thinks for a moment, studying my face, then pulls me away from the wall and tosses me onto the bed- I can’t lie and say I’m not impressed by the sheer strength it takes to do such a thing, that I’m not attracted to it. He sits down and starts taking off his shoes, chucking one and then the other before laying down with me. “I like being able to be close to you, to hold you, to kiss you- I like it when you do those things first.” “What else?” I kick my shoes off, Donny’s eyes track the motion before wandering back up to my face.

“Well-.” He takes a slow and deep breath in, looking over me again with a spark of heat. The rest of his response is murmured in a low and bassy tone. “I want you to touch me, make me lose my damn mind.”

He pulls me close and I find myself running my hands along his arms. I’m captivated by the subtle shifting of muscles under my fingertips, frustrated by the fabric which folds and catches as I try to etch the lines of them. “Do you need this?” I tug at the sleeve and his eyebrows shoot up. “I hope not.” He sits up, starts undoing the next button on his shirt. I sit up with him, pull his hand away and take over the task for him- kneeling as I work on the buttons. “You know… I find the human body fascinating. It’s amazing how we function, move, breathe-” I glance up to meet his eyes, the redness on his face betraying nerves in equal measure. I pull the shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside and pressing my palm against his chest- feeling his too-fast heartbeat in rhythm with mine. “And- I like knowing that I’m the reason your heart is beating like this.”  

I trail my hands up, gently pulling him toward me for a kiss, reveling in the way his breath hitches as I brush fingertips along his jugular vein to the back of his jaw. 

His lips meet mine and I can’t help the smile that forms on my face as they do, delight being such a simple concept in the moment- but how it ever existed without him, I do not know.

He brings his hand up to my neck and pulls me closer, starving for more as if the kiss will never be enough. In this particular instance, I agree. 

Somewhere within this exchange, I find myself wandering. My hands glide over beautiful skin and I enjoy the way Donny seems to melt into my touch, breathing a soft hum of approval as I move. 

He pulls away suddenly and starts to kiss my neck, a gesture that sends my head reeling, the feeling of wet, open kisses on my skin is nearly too much to bear. 

He works on the buttons of my shirt at the same time- fumbling, slightly, until I impatiently tell him to just rip the damn thing open. He glances at me questioningly, but then simply chuckles and obliges. The buttons fly off in a cacophony and he slides the shirt off my shoulders freely, kissing along my clavicles as he does.

Then he falls onto his back, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me with him so my hands rest on either side of his head and I’m straddling his hips. I smile down at him for a moment, then grind my hips into his. He moans loudly, throwing his head back and flushing deeper, a sight and sound that I enjoy to its fullest before I move on.

I start kissing a trail down his neck, over his collarbone, between his pecs, arching my back as I move lower, pulling myself further back on my knees. I glance up at Donny as I do this, loving the way his eyes are following me in reverent hunger. 

I giggle, feeling the rush of joy from the look of anticipation on his face, and sink my teeth into his chest. Once again, Donny moans for me, spitting out a swear and gripping at the blankets- being more worked up the longer I take.

So I take my time, breathing over his skin and whispering soft proclamations about his beauty, the way I adore him, the way I love how he sounds- I mean every word of it and he damn well knows it. Each word hits him in full, a new rush of sensation, another hitched breath, another exclamation of how much I’m driving him insane.

But we both know he won’t do anything about it until he’s on the edge of desire- this is the game we play. 

So I begin describing in detail the nerves that run along his arms, tracing them softly with kisses before graduating to discussing the science behind endorphins. 

I demonstrate this by gifting him several bite marks along his sides and hips, explaining his pain threshold to him as he writhes under me begging me to stop teasing him.

I answer this by sliding my fingers along his waistband, slowly unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down and off of him. The underwear follows suit without much ceremony. I can tell by Donny’s breathing that he’s sure that I’m done now, he feels relief in the finality of the movement- so I trace a trail back up his body with my tongue, gently kissing along the way and muttering how he’s been so good for waiting so long. 

But he’s growing frustrated with the waiting, the way I’ve pulled every trick I possibly can to make him want this more than he’s ever wanted anything, and when I look back into his eyes all I see is an all consuming, lust-sodden, darkened gaze. 

So mercy, it is -as if I’m not on the edge of teetering over into animalistic carnality anyway- I hurry to dispose of my own clothing, tossing them off to the side and relishing the feeling of flesh against flesh. 

Donny’s hands glide down my back, warm and heavy and beautifully large in the way they nearly encapsulate my hips entirely when he grabs them. 

Now it’s my turn to plead with him, leaning down and savoring a kiss that’s as much lust as it is appreciation, when I pull away I breathe out a simple ‘please.’ 

It’s enough for him, he fumbles a bottle of lube and I feel a shock of anticipation heatwave through my body- a moment passes before Donny gives me a nod, I kiss him again, and with an utterance of “good boy” said more like a song than a gasp of pleasure, I lower myself onto him.

[its-echo-song]

rotating them both but smooth this time

[its-echo-song]

Some day Ill be drawing something else but sketch style ink portraits but not today.

Since this streak started with Gerry, its only fitting a Jon should follow. The ceaseless watcher persist.

If you wanna support me or check out my other stuff, take a look at my (rather new) Ko-Fi

[its-echo-song]

a participation drawing for #tuna60k on instagram :)) this is for the harvey and donny fans out there ‼️

(@/betablindspots on instagram for bg inspo!)

(/@tuna_jsgross on instagram and @/tuna-jsgross on tumblr)