Looking to treat yourself or a friend to a little extra sweetness for Valentine's Day? 😉
I will be offering couple (or throuple!😘) comms till Feb 20, in either Simple Style (left) or Chibi (right).
Prices are $40usd and $20usd respectively, any added characters will be an additional $10/$7 :)
Ill be taking up to 4 comms at a time (waitlist is always open), and my turnaround time is between 1-2 days. If complications come up ill let you know immediately and I'll always throw in some extra details into the piece for your patience 🥰
Please DM me to book a slot or to be put on the waitlist! (and let me know if messages glitch, my account is fickle as a 3D man.🙄)
✨️REBLOG RAFFLE✨️
For those who would like the chance to win a Free Valentines Comm and support my work:
* Reblog This Post to be entered into a raffle drawing ending on Feb 10th.
*Max 5 entries per account for fairness sake.
*Prize will be fully rendered 2 person drawing in either styles offered, characters of your choice!
*Prize can also be gifted to another account if desired by the selected winner :)
Best of luck and thank you for supporting me and my work!
“I’m back,” he calls out softly once opening the door.
You’re already there—must have heard him drive up then padded over—standing there, wordlessly awaiting his kiss. You don’t notice it yourself, though he does, how you get up on your tippy-toes and meet him halfway. You’ve been doing it for a while now. It’s really cute. And so he doesn’t say anything on it—doesn’t want to spook the habit.
“Welcome home,” you say, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you soft and snugly against his chest—smiling at how you nuzzle into it—yet another cute thing you’ve started doing lately.
“Mh-thank you, sweetheart—feels good,” he coos into your hair, petting it smoothly while you stand there, neither of you pulling away. “What did you do today?”
You sigh and sink further into his embrace, mumbling, “Same as any other day…” almost sulkily. “Just waiting for you.”
He chuckles, “Oh, that’s not true. I saw you watching something—anything fun?”
You hum, hiding your face in his chest, mumbling into it, “Not really… just binging another franchise they decided to ruin...” You shift and look up at him, keeping your chin on his chest while grumbling, “I don’t understand why they’d reboot something just to completely disregard everything it originally stood for—and all the effects just make it look cheap.”
He can’t help but chuckle again, ruffling your hair with a fond smile. “You’re such a nerd.” He could eat you up the way you are right now, plated on a silver platter for him all so willingly. “A cute nerd, though.”
You pout, “Honestly, what’s going on out there? I barely understand anything I’m watching anymore—it’s all alien to me.”
His hug on you tightens, but you don’t flinch like you used to—even as the look in his eyes darkens along with his words. “Yeah, the world’s gone mad. You’re better off in here.”
You smile then—agreeing for once. It’s also a new and adorable habit. And then you unzip his jacket for him, helping it off his shoulders and hanging it up for him—all so naturally. Looking back at him while asking, “And how was your day?”
He smiles while beholding you—to think such a question would ever leave your lips all so domestically—it’s enough to make his chest swell. Then with an exaggerated sigh, he whines, “Absolutely horrible without you,” wrapping you up in another hug, this time from behind, nuzzling his chin into the ticklish skin of your neck—making you giggle. Arms around your front, swaying you back against him. “Every second, I was counting down ‘til when I could come home to you.”
“Is that right?” You grin at his gesture—twisting around so that you could look at him straight. Slouched as he stood, all but draping you with his taller form—eyes leveled with yours, half-mast and adoringly admiring you like his most precious thing—his sweet loving girlfriend.
You cup his face in both hands, thinking the same of him—your sweet loving boyfriend. You’re about to kiss him, but then, struck by the thought, there’s a sudden freight in your chest that follows, and you jolt back as if he’d burned you.
He stills, warm expression twisting to one of concern. “Hey—” Stepping after you with his hands laid on your forearms, giving you a small squeeze. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” You don’t know, you think. Something’s off. Something’s not right—about his touch, about your heart, about all of it. “I’m just…”
You think about it, eyes skittering over his face—did you always look at his face? Since when did he become so familiar? Since when did you walk around wanting to see it?
“I just…” the words feel all strange in your mouth, but there’s no denying there’s truth in them. “I missed you.”
His features blank at that, blinking at you. “Oh…” Then he softens—smiles with a chuckle, “Well, I’m home now, so…” His head slants, looking at you in askance as he gently brings a hand up to thumb your chin. “What’s with this pouty face?”
You bite your lip. There’s so much noise in your chest—so many conflicting feelings. You’ve begun missing him when he’s gone—when he leaves you. You’ve started wishing for his return, spending your day in wait. Since when did you start doing that?
It’s not right.
“I’m slipping,” your voice is shaken and weak, eyes welling up with thick water enough to have him look blurry—you shake your head and squeeze them shut—making the tears fall quickly. “I’m not supposed to miss you—” you cry. “That’s not right. I’m not—you’re not—”
Not your boyfriend.
“Hey, hey, sweetie. It’s okay,” he cuts your sob off with two warm hands placing themselves on your wettened cheeks, holding you tenderly. You layer yours on top of his, feeling it’s the only thing keeping you from spiraling into oblivion.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he coos, smearing out your teardrops, making them dry. “It was gonna happen sooner or later, right?”
Your eyes peel and look at him—through the veil. His face is a comfort—though you feel strange seeing it as such, when you know, even though most of you has decided to forget, that he’s a psychotic stalker who’s kidnapped you and held you captive for what must be closing in on a year already.
“Don’t feel bad—it’s only natural,” he assures, pulling you into his chest again—both arms around you snugly with his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you from side to side. “Everything’s fine. So you’re losing your mind a little—we’ll just find something else for you to think about. Right? Is there anything you want? Anything I can get you? More clothes? Sweets? Something fun? Maybe you can take up another hobby?”
He loosens his hold to look down at you—his face warm with devout for you, with a wordless vow saying he’ll do everything, give you anything in return for your happiness.
You love him, you realize then with a shudder.
You’re in love with your crazy captor—your batshit lovesick oversweet captor who shares your bed and treats you like a spoiled pet. And it’s so fucked up—so, so very fucked up, so very fucking fucked up. But it’s true—you’re in love with him. And you have been for a while.
“What do you say?” he asks in hope.
Yet, you can’t say it out loud. No, not yet—it still feels all so wrong. But, at the same time, you don’t think there’s a need for you to put it into words for him. He’s always known you better than you have yourself, after all. And that wholesome smile on his face says it all—he already knows.
“No… I just,” you start, staring into his eyes—those full-loving eyes that look at you as if you’re the only thing of value in the whole entire world. “I just want…” It’s a scary confession—both admitting it to yourself and him. “You.”
You look down, curling your fingers into his shirt.
“I don’t need anything else.”
It’s the truth and nothing but the truth—albeit a somewhat sad truth. It’s your one wish—your only wish. You just want him—to stay, to hold you, to kiss you. You can’t even think of wanting anything else anymore.
“Oh, well, that’s easy, isn’t it?” he says, stroking your cheeks, fishing for your shy gaze—smiling once hooking it—pretty teary puppy eyes, lost and looking for directions.
Don’t worry—he’s here to help.
“Where do you want me then, sweetheart?” His lips near your forehead. “Here?” He gives it a chaste kiss, earning your sniffle, then ducks down to your neck. “Or here, maybe?” Giving that a kiss as well, this time with more behind it, sucking the skin with a soft bite.
“Or maybe…” His voice is low, and it makes your skin buzz with a desire just as dark—shivering with it as his lips ghost yours. “Here?”
You hang in his hold, leaning after it.
But he just smiles, “Tell me, sweetheart—where do you want me?”
Your lip wobbles, brows cinched as your balled fists needily pull him close—yearning for it.
turnnoffyourmind
kaledo-art
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
