Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Imagines <3

Painting Fun

"Hurry up! Your going to be late!" You said into the phone, snickering at Mark's groan. He agreed and hung up, leaving you to wait on him. In the meantime, you glanced over at the buckets of paint sitting on the floor. Today, you felt like you needed to improve your living room. You wanted to repaint it, and you knew that Mark would want to do it too.
After a few more minutes you heard a knock on the door. You rushed to him and opened the door, seeing your Markimoo stand there. He ran a hand through his fading red hair, winking at you with his soft brown eyes. You giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling him inside quickly. He chuckled and looked around, clapping at the paint.
He was wearing a blue and red beanie, his hair falling in his eyes. He dusted off his red sweatshirt, your eyes trailing down to his worn blue jeans. You smiled sweetly at him, handing him a large paint brush. The paper underneath your feet crinkled as you walked over to a paint can. You carefully opened it, revealing a beautiful light blue color underneath.
"Let me handle the music, babe. I got the jams!" Mark shouted, almost making you fling your paintbrush across the room. You grabbed your chest, glaring at Mark. He stuck his tongue out at you and plugged his phone in. Once he played his music, he turned it up. Music filled the room, making you smile. He swayed his hips, nodding along to the music and breaking out his dance moves.
He flapped his paintbrush around, swishing it in your face and making you snort with laughter. He dunked it in the pain and stroked it along the wall along with the beat. You rolled your eyes and painted a wall across from him. You heard him singing along to his songs, the thumping of his feet moving along the ground.
You look over your shoulder, stopping when you saw Mark painting a picture. You turned around fully, giggling at Mark's silly picture. He had painted a blue Tiny Box Tim with wide eyes and noodle arms. Below it was the words, "Markimoo and Tiny Box Tim forever." In big block letters. You cleared our throat, making Mark's hand freeze when he started painting a mustache on Tim's face.
He slowly turned around, trying to hold back his bright smile. You crossed your arms and motioned towards the drawing behind him. He scoffed and tried to block it with his arms, shaking his head. He put his arm behind his head and his other hand covering a small portion of the picture.
"What!? I don't know what your talking about. There's nothing behind it, I swear." You walked over to him, causing him to hold out his paintbrush. You gave him a look as you took a step towards him. He raised his eyebrows at you, smiling at you evilly. You held your hand out, but that didn't stop a huge streak from being painted on your face. You gasped, bursting out laughing. Mark put his finger up to his lips and stuck his butt out.
"Oops! Did I do this!?" Mark cooed innocently. You smiled at him, grabbing your paintbrush and flicking the paint over him. It splattered his face in blue dots. He gasped loudly, smearing the paint as he tried to get it off. You started running around the room as Mark grabbed his newly dripping paintbrush.
"JUST WAIT TILL I-OW SON OF A BITCH!" Mark shouted, stubbing his toe on your couch. You laughed loudly as he hopped around on one foot. You ventured too close to him as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you on the couch. You squealed as he held you down and tickled you. You held his hands back, smirking up at him. Mark stopped and leaned down, inches from your lips. You leaned up, practically lips touching.
"I love you." He whispered, his eyes locking with yours. You smiled, your noses touching.
"I love you too." You kissed him softly, his hands moving to grab something. He pulled away, sitting both of you up. Before you knew it, your nose was smeared with blue paint. You giggled, dipping your finger in the can before making a line across his forehead.
"SIMMMMBBBAAAAAAA! There, now we're even." You said, kissing his nose before hopping off the couch and going to your wall. Mark burst out laughing, trying to wipe his face off. You heard the paper crinkle behind you. When you turned, you saw him with a paint can and his brush.
"Are on for a...challenge?"
"Your on, babe."