#Luxury Abstract Paintings

[carlamathew00]

Abstract Art Paintings For Living Room | International Artist

Discover a world of artistic expression at Ele Pack Paintings. Explore our collection Luxury Abstract Paintings of handcrafted paintings created with passion and precision. Browse now and find the perfect piece to reflect your unique style.

[acrylicalchemy]

It's time to make some moves.

[warner-york]

The Cloister Heather Garden, in full early bloom, Fort Tryon NY,NY...

[helicoptermain]

Red sunrise 80x100cm

Alice Göransson 2024

[stevenwmiller]

Steven Miller oil on canvas 50x50” now on exhibit @amarthouse at the Modern & Contemporary art fair in Palm Beach through 3/26 www.AmArtHouse.com www.stevenwmiller.com #stevenmiller #stevenmillerart #abstract #painting #contemporaryart #interiordesign #artcollector #ny #la #palmbeach #miami #international #style #luxury #lifestyle #love #color #amarthouse #singulart #saatchi #zatista #artistsoninstagram #lacma #moma #litchfieldcounty #original https://www.instagram.com/p/CqNK5owOBU7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[gustedesign]

"Bloody Macchiato" is a unique and visually striking original painting that captures the essence of a popular coffee drink. By Gusté Vasiliauskaité | Gusté.Design

[beesolively]

Los Angeles Loft-Style Living Room

Mid-sized minimalist formal and loft-style concrete floor and gray floor living room photo with white walls and no fireplace

[sumikatt]

your ability to make art came free with your humanity! if you can’t draw then you can’t draw. art isn’t and shouldn’t be accessible to everyone. art is a privilege.

i could’ve made this shitty blank painting, why is it in a museum? i could’ve taken this photo better. be cringe and be free, draw your rainbow fursonas. just commission someone if you want art but can’t make it. modern art is so pretentious and meaningless. only hyper rich disillusioned people like abstract art. only dumbass gamers who don’t appreciate real art like hyper-realistic video game graphics. only silicon valley tech bros like this kind of ‘art’.

why don’t we appreciate traditional art anymore. isn’t the computer doing most of the work if you draw digitally? pirate photoshop! you’re cheating and stealing if you use that. here are some easy artist hacks! here’s how to trace correctly. nfts are so stupid, just right click and save lol. why is netflix not allowing screenshots, what am i gonna do, pirate the show a frame at a time?

i’m so glad those tech bros are getting sued for copyright violations. JSTOR has blood on its hands. just learn how to draw with your feet or mouth. typing words into a machine isn’t art. i wish it was a trend to go to the library. there’s no humanity or authenticity in AI. put your name into this generator and see what weird abstract thing you get! i hope CGI artists unionize, they are so clearly crunched and way underpaid.

this took months to make, isn’t that admirable? this only took a few seconds to make, there’s no soul in it. this was captured in fractions of a second, aren’t moments of humanity so beautiful yet fleeting? not everyone can make art. art is a luxury commodity and not everyone can afford it. creative hobbies are so valuable for your wellbeing, humans are meant to express themselves.

[carlamathew00]

Small Paintings For Living Room by Ele Pack Painting

Ele Pack's abstract paintings and small luxury artwork are ideal for your home, living room, hotel room, boat, yacht, and offices.

[acrylicalchemy]

This is a metallic piece I have available from my "Roots" collection that changes in the light. Your support keeps a roof over my head and paint on my palette. Buy art and feed an artist ❤️

[helicoptermain]

Grey morning 40x60cm

Alice Göransson 2024

[stevenwmiller]

Steven Miller oil on canvas 50x50” on exhibit @amarthouse in Palm Beach at the Modern & Contemporary art fair 3/23-26 www.AmArtHouse.com www.stevenwmiller.com #stevenmiller #stevenmillerart #art #abstract #painting #contemporaryart #palmbeach #artfair #ny #la #london #international #style #love #artcollector #interiordesign #blue #luxury #lifestyle #amarthouse #artcurator #zatista #saatchi #singulart #lacma #moma #original #beach #miami #hamptons https://www.instagram.com/p/CqFm-2IoJJc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[gustedesign]

"Bloody Macchiato" is a unique and visually striking original painting that captures the essence of a popular coffee drink. The use of bold, contrasting colors creates a dynamic and eye-catching composition. It is perfect for any home or office, adding a touch of sophistication and originality. 

[eudemonia13]

Light in the darkness

Solomon x Reader

Light angst. W.C. 1099 Solomon thinks about his adorable aprentice as they rest beside him.

He saw light in you, passed the glimmer of sunlight on your skin as you bathed in the warm rays of your home world, passed the brilliance of neon signs and late night artificial rainbows that painted your eyes a stunning palette of colour, shades he would chase in his dreams as his subconscious processed yet another memory of you.

An abstract keepsake that he would hold onto as long as he lived. When he had long forgotten the grassy fields, the taste of salt and sugar, when the last drop of his blood had dried. When the death of the world and the collapse of the sun had claimed the last slivers of light, he would remember you.

Tucked away with all the other parts of you he held dear. His thoughts were a kaleidoscope of you. The movements, the laughter, the rhythm of your heart beating. Everything stored away in the most precious archives of his mind.

No, he saw it there in the darkest nights of the Devildom.

Bright and soft as the dawn, light that emanated from you like the warmth from your skin as he rested in your arms. It enveloped him and cast the shadows in his mind into slumber.

He loved you, he loved you in ways that felt like sparks and fire. A firework, piercing the darkness with a violence that could only be human. So fleeting, and yet you burned yourself into the entire realm's consciousness like an afterimage, trails of fading sparks that still glowed as they rained from high. A fraction of time that outshone the dim embers of eternity.

He used to sparkle, he used to glow. And he still did, the hunger in the demon’s eyes told him as much. The subtle glances the angels passed behind his back when he was once allowed entry into the Celestial realm told him as much. There was still enough left in him to want, to covet and bide their time over as turn after turn of the games they played went on.

Solomon smiled, a reflex that had rooted into him and pulled the corners of his lips into an unreadable neutrality, a defence given to him by the slow erosion of millenia uncounted. Hard learned lessons like waves rolling the sharpest rocks into smooth, flawless stones, he had lost that earnest part of him to the oceans long ago.

What he felt, the vulnerability and timid honesty of his feelings even here when he was alone with his thoughts, was too intimidating to show without a mask. So he smiled to himself in the darkness of his room.

He used to sparkle, like you did now.

Still warm, still forgiving even as beings far beyond your reach played over you like a prize, like a bet. Like you weren’t human. Still bright, still shining.

He pulled you closer, tucking his head against your shoulder as you slept, chest falling in gentle crests, like waves rolling over him with every rise and fall. Time had no hold on him, not here. Not with you.

His dearest, his confidant, his…

What was he to you? Surely, he meant at least something to you. But in a room of flushed faces, of hands reaching out to you… How close was he to your light?

A Prince, strong and unmoving to the little problems that once battered him in his youth. He was safe, he was luxury and adventure and lightheartedness, still after everything in his long, long life. Passion and elegance… And knowing you would always come second to the inevitable need of his people.

A Demon, as capable, as beautiful and loyal as he was prideful. Having made his place in the Devildom from what was once scorn and misery, but now stood as one of the most powerful and respected Devildom Elite? Who offered you seduction, and complete ownership over his heart and soul? At least… So long as you could withstand his heart being locked behind the burden of pride, and obligations that could never be put off for more than a night before he would be buried by paperwork yet again.

And his brothers, demons of high regard all their own. But he hardly needed to slander any of them to highlight their glaringly obvious shortfalls.

An Angel, kind and devoted, cunning and artful in everything he does. He was warm, and soft like spring rain, dewy and beautiful and calming to even your soul itself. He would give every part of himself to you and not ask for anything more than your happiness. And yet he was forever shadowed by the choices he had made, and had not made, and the knowledge of what would come from those fateful decisions… But truly, what could he say against Simeon? That he was bad with technology and he was afraid of the terrifying and confusing future ahead of him? Solomon knew that what his friend offered you could hardly be painted as ‘bad’ in even the harshest light.

Was that cruel of him? To weave his words and sharpen his tongue against those he has come to think of as friends? Even in the seclusion of his mind, could he take that from you? Could he appear just a little bit better, here, where none could hear him?

Solomon, the wise. Solomon, the witty sorcerer. Solomon, protector of Humanity. Solomon, who loved you with all his heart. Who had protected you when you were nothing but a defenceless human thrown to the wolves of the Devildom that first year of the exchange program. Solomon, who had risked the fate of the human realm just so that you may not hate him for the awful choice that must be made. Who had put the fate of everything he had devoted his immortal life to protecting, into your hands knowing full well that you might not choose what he would.

Solomon, who looked at you and saw everything he loved, everything he had sworn to protect and cherish deep in his heart where nothing could take it from him again.

Solomon, who loved you knowing he would lose you too.

And Solomon, the manipulative, the wolf in sheep's clothing, the untrustworthy sham of a sorcerer who used and conned anyone he could benefit from. Solomon, the human who had lost his humanity. Solomon, the liar. Solomon, the demon.

He wondered, silently. Wordlessly as his hands shook with the slightest tremble as he pulled you against him even tighter. His Light, his Truth… His Protector.

Who was he to you?

[yoonkinii]

Jealous Y♡u

Warning(s): cursing, jealousy, flirting with a taken man, hints to having sex (no smut though), anger, extreme kissing :3 Requests open (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content!) note: Sorry it's short! I couldn't get this idea out of my head and had to write it.

No matter how extravagant the restaurant was, your mood remained sour - a shame, really. 

Nestles in the heart of the city’s glittering downtown, the restaurant gleamed like a polished gem beneath the soft glow of its artfully arranged lighting. The entrance, framed by lush greenery and a discreet brass plaque, hinted at the understated elegance within. The sounds of lively conversations mingled with the gentle clinking of fine china and crystals, creating an atmosphere of refined luxury. 

Inside, the restaurant was a harmonious blend of contemporary design and classic sophistication, while the walls, dressed in muted shades of ivory and taupe, provided a serene backdrop. Large, abstract paintings added splashes of vibrant color - mesmerizing, but now only contributed to your growing headache.

You couldn’t sit still at your designated table, too restless and irritated to remain in one place. The business party was still in full swing, with unfamiliar faces chattering about topics you didn’t understand. When Sukuna invited you to his yearly business event, you were excited. It was a formality he dreaded but had to attend to maintain business relationships. But now, surrounded by strangers and trapped in your own thoughts, the excitement had long faded, leaving you adrift in a sea of discontent. 

A burst of laughter causes you to drag your eyes away from the expansive window, where the cityscape below had tried and failed to distract you as you sipped on your champagne. The laughter of the very person responsible for your agitation was hard to ignore. Your anger had been simmering for the past hour, and it was about to reach a boiling point. Perhaps it was the alcohol buzzing through your system, fraying your patience more than usual. Maybe it was a combination of everything. Either way, you were livid. 

Your eyes lock onto the two figures who have you clenching your glass a little too tightly, a tight-lipped grimace playing on your mouth as you watch them for what feels like the umpteenth time. You don’t know who she is or what her name is, but at this moment, you don’t care. To you, she’s simply that woman. 

She was pretty, very pretty, and she knew it. It was evident in her choice of attire - a brown bodycon dress that hugged her figure, accentuating her curves and leaving little to the imagination. You had noticed her the moment you walked into the restaurant. She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, with a smile a little too wide as she greeted your boyfriend. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded; it’s not like you’re the jealous type. But after her backhanded comment, something inside you snaps. 

“Oh! I totally expected you to be with someone else.”

From that moment, everything went downhill. She completely disregarded the seating arrangements, forcing someone else to take her original spot so she could sit on the other side of Sukuna. Her behavior escalated from a harmless crush on your boyfriend to blatantly throwing herself at a taken man. It started with seemingly innocent compliments before progressing into something worse. 

“I like your hair today.”

“That shirt looks great on you.”

“Your piercings suit you.”

And poor Sukuna, completely oblivious to this woman’s intentions, responded to her words with a simple hum, not truly paying attention to her at all. To his credit, Sukuna was focused on one thing - you. His hand rested on your thigh, the pads of his fingers massaging the delicate skin of your inner thigh absentmindedly. Throughout the main course, Sukuna leaned into your ear, whispering who was who or making sly comments about others, relishing in the way your soft laughter danced in the air. 

Sukuna remains oblivious to the woman’s intentions, his mind filled with thoughts of you, and only you. He doesn’t notice the way she inches closer, or the way her laughter seems to cling to his every word. His focus is entirely on you, but you don’t see it that way. You don’t see the way his gaze softens whenever you meet his eyes. Dressed in a cream-colored dress with a square neckline that leaves your collar bones on display, you’re the picture of elegance. Sukuna is sure that anyone who cared to notice would definitely see how his expression changes when he looks at you. 

But she doesn’t give up easily. Even after the meal, her persistence lingers like an unwanted shadow. She laughs at everything Sukuna says, her hands constantly finding its way to his biceps, her body icing closer with each passing  minute. Even as Sukuna excuses himself with a kiss on your cheek to speak with a close business partner, she follows, as if tethered to him. 

And so, you find yourself in your current state, scowling as you watch her from across the room. Her laughter is loud and shrill, cutting through the fin of conversations around you. A server passes by, and you force a strained smile as you exchange your empty glass for a full one. The rim of the glass soon bears the stain of your red lipsticks as you hover it near your lips. 

Then, it happens in slow motion. Sukuna’s lips move as he speaks, a faint smile gracing his face as he talks with an older gentleman. But her reaction is out of place; she laughs far too heartily for something that isn’t even remotely funny. As her shoulders shake with her exaggerated laughter, she wraps her arms around Sukuna’s arm, pressing her chest firmly against him. 

Before Sukuna can even register what’s happening, you’re already by his side. Your champagne glass is abandoned on a nearby table as you wedge yourself between them, forcing her to disentangle herself from him. She stares at you, wide-eyed, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to whip that look of confusion off her face with your fist. 

With barley concealed sarcasm, you address her, your voice dripping with venomous politeness. “Sorry, I need to borrow my boyfriend. Is that alright with you?”

She’s visibly taken aback, her pout deepening as she glances at Sukuna, as if expecting him to rescue her from this situation. But Sukuna, feeling the tug on his arm, follows you as you lead him away, guiding him to a secluded area- the restroom. 

The restroom is dimly lit, with warm hanging bulbs casting a soft glow. The black wooden floors and walls accentuate the golden accents of the large, well-lit vanity. A few potted plants sit in the corners, adding a touch of life to the otherwise moody atmosphere. 

Sukuna barely has time to react before you push him into the restroom, the door clicking shut behind you as you turn your back on him, your breaks deep and uneven in an attempt to calm your rising anger. But it’s not working. The fury simmering inside you is only growing hotter. 

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 

“Jealous, are we?” His voice laced with amusement. 

You whirl around, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. Sukuna’s lips curve into a smile, clearly entertained by your fiery demeanor. It’s not often he sees you this worked up, and he can’t help but find it endearing, even if the pout on your lips is more adorable than intimidating. 

“I am not jealous,” you retort, though your words come out less convincing than you intended. 

“Oh?” His brow arches in mock surprise, arms crossing over his broad chest. The fabric of his dress shirt strains against his muscles, the buttons barely holding on, as if threatening to pop off at any moment if he breathes too deeply. 

Damn him for looking so good. Damn him for those tattoos that decorate his skin. Damn his piercings, and the new one on his lip. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

Before he can tease you further, you grab him by the collar, pulling him down as you rise on your toes. Sukuna grunts in surprise as your lips crash into his. His hands instinctively slide down your back, finding their place on the curve of your ass, where he gives a gentle squeeze, encouraging you. 

“I hate her.” You mumble against his lips.

Sukuna smirks, ready to make a playful comment, but it does on his lips the moment your mouth moves to his neck. Your kisses are wicked, nipping, and sucking at his skin, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake. He shudders, feeling the sting of each possessive kiss, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. 

You both stumble in the small space of the restroom, Sukuna pushing you back until your spine meets the cool surface of the locked door. A breathy exhale escapes him as he tilts his head, granting you better access to his neck. The sensation of your lips painting his skin with red blooms sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Shit.” He mummers, his legs slotting in between yours, pressing himself impossibly closer to you. 

Your brows knit together as you guide his face lower, your fingers firm on his chin. Sukuna feels like he’s burning up from the inside, his eyes darkening with desire as he takes in the intensity of your gaze. The sight of your smudged lipstick only adds fuel to the fire, tightening his grip on you and stirring something primal in him.

You cup his cheeks, your lips leaving no inch of his face untouched - his cheeks, his forehead, the corners of his mouth. Everywhere. When you finally try to pull away, his reaction is swift. One of his hands that had been resting on your ass shoots up to the nape of your neck, pulling you back into a fierce kiss. 

A soft breath escapes your lips, and Sukuna seizes the opportunity, deepening the kiss as he explores your mouth with a fervor that sends a shiver down your spine. A needy whine escapes you as his hands rove across your body, squeezing and caressing with a possessive hunger. Every touch, every press of his fingers, feels like he’s staking his claim on you, and it only intensifies the fire within him. He wants more. No, he needs more. How dare you make him feel this way- jealous of him, when every fiber in his being is devoted to you? How dare you kiss him with such need when he’s been restraining himself, battling the urge to ravage you every waking moment. 

A sudden knock on the door startles you, causing you to jerk back so sharply that your head smacks against the wood. A hiss of pain slips from your lips, and Sukuna’s deep laugh rumbles through his chest, the sound vibrating against your body. 

“Um, excuse me, you've been in there for a while and-”

“Leave before I kill you with my bare hands,” Sukuna growls, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you shy away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at being interrupted. 

Silence follows as the unwelcome intruder quickly retreats, leaving the two of you alone once more. 

Sukuna exhales, the tension in his body still palpable, but now there’s a look of pride in your eyes as you take in his disheveled appearance. His lips are swollen, his hair a tousled mess from your hands, and his skin is covered in red marks left by your lipstick - a masterpiece of your own making. His body is a canvas, and you’ve painted it with your passion. 

He forces himself to step back, muscles taut with restraint. He wants nothing more than to take you here and not, but duty calls, and he knows he must stay for the remainder of the party. If not for that, he would have dragged you out of the restaurant to finish what you started in the privacy of his home. If he could even make it that far. 

“Leave,” he orders, his voice tight with the effort it takes to say the words. It’s the last thing he wants, but if you stay, neither of you will be leaving the restroom anytime soon. 

You smile softly at him, noting the frustration in the slight downturn of his lips. 

“Don’t take it off,” you reply, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you turn to leave. 

Sukua gives you a confused look before glancing at the mirror. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the array of kiss marks you’ve left on his skin. He turns back, but you’re already gone. 

You are not a jealous person. That’s what you tell yourself as you cast a knowing glance at the woman who had dared to overstep her bounds. It’s not jealousy that fuels you as you reclaim your seat, your once-discarded champagne glass now back in hand. It’s not jealousy that brings a surge of satisfaction when you see the disheartened look on her face as Sukuna emerges from the restroom, his skin marked with the evidence of your affection. It’s not jealousy that makes you giddy as he resumes his conversations with business partners, completely unbothered by his less-than-ideal appearance. 

No, you are not a jealous person.  

-

Taglist (open): @kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro , @sad-darksoul , @cupcaketeddybehr