Draw This In Your Style Novels & Stories

Nothing pulls me out of a weird mood faster than doodling. As we go through the scene for the umpteenth time, I find myself doing rough sketches of the men in front of me. None of my drawings ever look particularly realistic - my doodles have more of a cartoony, comic book style - but I'm pretty proud of how they turn out. Once I've done Omar and Mr. Grand, I move on to the person I really want to doodle - Orlando. I don't get him right the first time. Or the second. Or the third. At first I can't seem to get his hair right, but by the end it's his eyes that are giving me the most trouble. Nothing I draw can capture how startling and direct they are.

"There's no way I look like that. You look like you're being castrated right now." "Here's a better representation," There's a short stick laying between us and I pick it up, drawing the shape of a human face on the beach sand. I start out by drawing out two 'o's as the eyes with curved brows at the top. A small triangle is drawn next to display his small but pointy nose, and then lastly, strike out a straight horizontal line as his mouth. Noah stares at the silly drawing on the sand that now looks like a hairless mutant and raises a curved brow. "It's missing both ears."

I think you want to know how you got here. Oh, so I'm no longer a suspect? I think wryly. Giving you food and tending to your wounds has somehow convinced you that I'm not a threat? I get up and go to the hiding place door. I fill my hands with sand and bring it back to him. I spread it on the floor in front of him so I can draw on it. I draw sea waves, a moon and a square floating in the water. I draw a little stick figure on it and point to the foreigner.

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Jonathan moaned softly, his hips lifting slightly as the cool ink touched his warm skin. “It feels good,” he whispered. I smiled under the mask and kept going. I drew a small possessive symbol right next to his cock, then moved higher and wrote “Mine” across his left chest, near his heart. I made sure the brush strokes were slow and teasing. I leaned down and licked his nipple while I painted, sucking on it until he was squirming. “Stay still,” I warned, but my voice was rough with lust. I moved between his legs again and lifted them up. I spread his ass cheeks and started drawing another small mark right above his hole. It was a simple “W” that only I would see when I fucked him.

I unfolded it. It was a drawing in crayon and marker, the way first-graders drew — bright, flat, full of feeling. Two almost sticklike figures, one tall and one small. The tall one had brown hair and a white coat. The small one had a yellow dress and orange boots. They were holding hands. Above them, in large, uneven letters: ME AND MOMMY. In the corner, small and neat compared to the rest: I miss you — C I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

Stefany opened the box and took out her painting equipment: pencils, erasers, and a sketchbook. Carefully, Stefany began to draw. Her first stroke was a vast wheat field, blown by the autumn wind. She then added the figures of a young man and a girl running in the middle of the field, depicting herself and Daniel. Every detail was done with love, from the smiles on their faces to the way the wind moved their hair. Stefany stopped for a moment, looking at her almost finished sketch. "Daniel will definitely like this," she murmured softly with a smile. She continued drawing until the sketch was completely finished.

Ownership codified in ink and digital chains. She’d thought that was the last time someone could buy her. Maybe this time, she could buy something back. “Pen?” she asked. Igor blinked. “It’s already registered. Your blood—” “I know,” she said. “But it feels rude not to pretend.” Kael’s mouth quirked. He slid a physical stylus across the desk anyway. She took it, twirled it once, then drew a looping, ridiculous flourish under the glowing signature line. It bled blue-white through the holo, irreverent and elegant.

My playlist looped through heartbreak anthems and empowering bangers, Gen Z chaos and soulful ballads colliding in my ears. I lost track of time. Until my phone buzzed. Unknown: You still awake? My heart jumped before I could stop it. I stared at the screen, pulse thudding. Drake. Even without his name, my body recognized his presence. Like a scar that never stopped aching. I didn’t reply. Not because I didn’t want to. But because I wanted to too much. Instead, I flipped my phone face-down and kept drawing. The designs became more daring. Bolder. Sharp angles. Twisted gold. Chains that looked like they could cut skin. Stones set deliberately off-center, refusing symmetry.

He makes it slow and in light of shadowing his drawing from the moon,to the room and to the male person on the drawing. "You just gotta take it slow and don't make it so dark since this is a pen not a pencil."He said as his attention was fully drawn to the drawing while I stare to his face. Our faces were almost inch apart.He has a light brown hair and a pair of green eyes,the skin of his face didn't have any flaws on it neither a pimples or acne it wasn't also oily.His lips were pink and his smell was like a mint. "Hey,are you paying attention--"