(my first halloween fic.. i don't have the energy to do kinktober <3)
art donaldson is a virgin. a big fat virgin. it's his biggest secret, the only person who knows about it is patrick, and he endlessly makes fun of him for it. it's hard living in the shadow of such a sex prodigy like him, patrick had been relaying stories of heavy makeout sessions and 7 minutes in heaven with random girls ever since middle school. art has been on a multitude of double dates with patrick, only for them to end with him and a girl sitting awkwardly next to him while patrick and his date messily makeout on the couch next to him.
of course art tried to mimic patrick, his smooth words and even smoother hands.. but never successfully. the longest he's ever had a girlfriend was only 5 months.. and she broke up with him on valentines day. this year was the first year he actually had a girlfriend on a semi-romantic holiday. or at least art thought it was, he remembers every year that couples in cute costumes walked by and made him want to cry. and even worse was the halloween parties, with drunk college students wearing stupid costumes and grinding on each other, leaving art to sip on a room temperature beer in the corner.
art was abruptly brought back to reality when you tapped on his shoulder, alerting him to the fact that he wasn't still in a stupid party, he was lodged in a costume store dressing room, holding on to the costumes you still wanted to try on. "what do you think?" you spin around, showing him the back of your cheesy tennis player costume. art chuckles, shaking his head, "i think it's offensive.." he jokes, of course you look cute but he can't stop himself from thinking that you'd never be able to move around a court in that stupid uniform. "hand me another one art.." he gives you the next costume, turning to face the wall while you change. "you know you can look.. right? im your girlfriend aren't i?" art blushes and he's thankful you can't see his face. "i- im just being respectful" he says, seeming genuinely concerned about offending you. you let the issue go as you zip up the costume, tapping art on the shoulder.
when you got home, you set down your costume and turned to art. "so now what are you gonna be? we should match right?" he nods shyly, not exactly knowing how to enter this unfamiliar territory. "i guess you could be a devil too and then we could match.." you look at art for inspiration, and settle on his baby blue eyes, biting your lip before getting an idea. "oh i know! you should be an angel! it'll be great!" you say, already envisioning art in a pretty white costume. art blushes, "isn't that.. like a girl costume?" he doesn't mean to offend you and it's not like he hates the idea but.. he doesn't want to embarrass himself. "no not at all! cmon art it'll be so cute.. you'll be my little angel!" you almost squeal, immediately taking out your phone to look for costumes. art nods slowly.. realizing that he doesn't really care what he dresses up as.. as long as he's yours.
art almost drops the costumes he's holding when he sees the little red skirt, tank top and horns you have on, accompanied by a pair of fluffy wings on your back. "what d'you think? it kind of looks silly don't you think?" you turn back to face art. he shakes his head silently, his eyes wide, looking you up and down. you giggle, "guess we have a winner then!". you leave the store that day with a devil costume in a bag, and art leaves with a tent in his pants.
art has never considered himself religious. he was raised to go to sunday school and church and all those other fun events, but he never believed any of it. so why did he feel so guilty when he got hot and heavy seeing you in that costume? maybe it was the fact that he was always reprimanded as a child for liking things that he shouldn't.. playing with dolls, stealing his moms clothes... and maybe even looking a little too long at girls from church. now he still felt like he could get caught any moment doing something he wasn't supposed to, even though he wasn't in that environment anymore.
you're putting on lip gloss, using your phone for a mirror when art pops out of the bathroom, having a little trouble getting the fake wings to fit though the doorframe. you put your things down, standing up to meet him, "oh art.. you look so good.. this costume is perfect for you, don't you think?" you say, looking him up and down. art blushes, trying to avoid your gaze "i- i guess so.." he says, trying to downplay the fact that he likes the costume so much. you pick up on his tone, and decide to speak up. "what? you don't like it?" he shakes his head quickly, "no.. no that's not it.. it's like the opposite.. maybe i like it a little too much" he looks away, shifting from foot to foot. you smile knowingly, not surprised that he feels this way. art let's you guide him to sit on the edge of your bed. "well, why do you like it so much?" you ask, wanting to see if he'll be honest.
.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・
when halloween night finally comes around, art finds himself staring in the mirror, tugging at the tight white t-shirt that came with his costume, shifting his back and shoulders to re-adjust the wings sitting heavy on his back. god.. what's patrick gonna think about this? he's probably gonna be made fun of relentlessly.. but there's a feeling in the bottom of his stomach when he looks at himself.. he can't deny that he likes what he sees. he's just nervous for you to see him too, what if you laugh? what if you think he looks silly? what if you make fun of him? all these thoughts swirl around in his head as he leaves your bathroom, stepping into your bedroom as you look up from your phone.
art mulls that over in his head, pretty.. did he feel pretty? was he pretty? he's a boy isn't he.. was he even allowed to be pretty? even with all these thoughts swirling in his head he knows the foundational truth: he likes when he say that, he likes when you call him pretty. you bring art back to reality by kissing him softly, leaning closer to him. arts tentative hands grab hold of your waist, squeezing tight when you slip your tongue into his mouth. "won't you let me take care of you art?" he nods, knowing that you saw the bulge in his pants the moment he stepped out of the bathroom.
you run your hands over arts warm skin, swinging your leg over his lap in order to straddle him. "we'll go slow, alright? don't be scared" you whisper, pressing your lips to his once again. art whines against you, his hips jerking under you even with the simple makeout session. art finds it easy to let you take the lead, you always do, in every facet of your relationship, and art likes to just turn his brain off when he's with you. he lets you run your fingers through his hair, pulling off the silly halo headband while you do. art shivers when you make your way down to his neck, sharp canine teeth poking and pulling at his skin. you pull at the hem of arts shirt, "can i take this off?" you ask, waiting for a nod before pulling it off of him, pressing your lips on his again and raking your nails down his chest, almost making him curl up on himself.
you were so warm inside, hot even, he could feel your every move from the inside, every ridge and squishy spot made him take a shuddering breath. you try to lift up again to establish a rhythm, but arts hands keep you still, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. after a few seconds, he takes his hands away, letting you start to bounce gently. his moans and whines become almost screams, "k-keep goingg please.." "y'r so warm 'nside" "never wanna stop.. wanna do this f-forever" he feels himself approaching his peak far too quick, but he cant stop, he couldn't even if he wanted to, he needs you to keep going, he needs you to touch him, he needs you to love him. you can feel art start to move his hips with you, planting his feet on the mattress and pushing up, slamming into you with the last of his strength before his whole body goes taut, shaking and shivering before you feel him cum inside you, even through the condom.
you kiss some more, before you pull away to take a breath and look at him. arts pretty pink cheeks and white wings contrast perfectly, only making your heart beat faster. "do you wanna see me?" you gesture to your chest, covered by a skimpy red tank top. art nods very quickly, almost getting dizzy. "y-yeah, yes please" he says, watching with stars in his eyes as you strip off your shirt, exposing your chest to him. art almost gasps when you take hold of his hands and place them on your boobs, letting him experiment and touch and squeeze to his hearts content, you want to giggle at his facial expressions but you don't want to make him self conscious. "c-can we keep going?" he asks, hands still on your breasts. you smile and laugh, nodding. "alright art.. can you take off your pants for me?" art almost thinks his heart stops when you ask him to do that, still getting it through his head to nod slowly. he shuffles them down his legs, his blue boxers already a little stained from the precum leaking from the makeout sessions. you shift closer to him, sitting between his spread legs. "ill be gentle okay?" you start slow, running your fingers softly over his bulge, smiling when you feel him twitch under your touch. tapping his hip to signal him to lift his hips up, art complies, suddenly feeling self conscious at the fact that no one has ever seen him like this before.. he doesn't even know what he's supposed to do, or say. you notice this of course, placing your palm on his hip, "you're doing great art" he visibly relaxes at your touch, sinking into your bed. he lets you touch him softly again, with no barrier this time, he's softer than you thought, his pretty pink head already drooling, the pronounced veins on the sides pulsing. you wish you could take a polaroid of this moment, the look of his innocent white wings contrasting from the very lewd image in front of you. art slaps a hand over his mouth, his brows furrowed, he's never had anyone else touch him here, your hand feels so much different than his own, so much softer and warmer. art has to concentrate his best on not cumming immediately, the sensation of your hand jerking him off becoming overwhelming. he has to reach down and push your hand away before he cums, wanting to save the best part for later. "i-im sorry i didn't wanna.. cum" he says, his face flushed red. you smile, understanding his predicament. "it's okay, i did the same my first time too.. do you have a condom?" art nods quickly, opening up a packet of condoms he bought a little prematurely maybe.. but he wanted to be prepared no matter what happened. art had taken a sex ed class before, but putting a condom on himself versus a banana were very different, so you had to help him roll it down his length. art does nothing but watch you throw your panties to the side, again climbing into his lap. "like i said, we'll go slow, tell me if you don't like how it feels yeah?" art agrees, placing his large hands on your hips in an attempt to prepare, but nothing could prepare him for this.
you move your hips slowly to let him cool off, before slipping off of him and settling down beside him. you take off the condom for him, cum dripping onto his stomach before you can throw it away. you place your head on arts chest, unable to resist dipping your finger into the drops of cum on his stomach, the translucent liquid almost glowing on his pale skin. you can't help the word that escapes your mouth, "angel..." you whisper against his skin, not thinking he's back to his senses yet. art perks up a little, hoping he heard what he thought he heard, "w-what?" "nothing" <3
art sighs, not even knowing why he likes it so much. "i dunno, i guess i feel.. nice in it.. like it's natural?" you nod along with his words, encouraging him to keep talking. "like when i put it on, it kind of made me get butterflies.." you nod, seeing where this was going. "you thought you looked pretty yeah? i mean i always say you look like an angel, this just proves my point" you remark, placing a gentle hand on his thigh. "yeah.. well you're right as always.."
art belongs on the floor, on his knees, head bowed in respect and deference for his lover. that’s how his head works. if you love him, you clearly desire power over him. love, to him, is complete surrender. he gives up his body willingly and mind just as fast. give art an opportunity to submit himself to you, and he will. to prove his loyalty.
you see him on the floor, boney knees starting to get bruised on the hardwood flooring of your bedroom. he belongs on the ground, looking up. this is the natural way of life for a man like him. submission.
he’s gorgeous down there, too, which doesn’t help his case. his golden dirty blonde curls are messy like a mop head, but it’s rather cute, the way he looks so disheveled and disoriented. his blue eyes are looking up at you with the same intelligence as a golden retriever puppy. so cute but so little going on up there.
he’s even smiling and panting like a dog too. your golden retriever now. maybe you could train him and teach him new tricks. teach him to sit and to stay and to heel. collar him and take him on walks. that idea makes him blush a little bit.
you scratch your nails against his scalp like you were scratching the good spot behind a dog’s ear, and art melts into your touch, completely overtaken by his need to be yours.
maybe he should feel humiliated that you put him on the floor and treat him like a stupid dog, a puppy in need of training. in fact, he does feel humiliated. but you put him here, and you cradled his head and scratched that sweet spot behind his ear. he’s a dog, through and through, and your touch completely shut off his brain, leaving him utterly empty and helpless.
- P♡
RAHHHH why does tumblr glitch out and not give me notifications for some requests in my inbox 😭😭 (i hate it but honestly sometimes it's like a little surprise)
OR ART DONALDSON WHOS THE SAME
(relating to the last post)
YESS YOU GET IT
i think that art is different than patrick in the sense that he likes when you walk all over him because it's weirly comforting for someone to have that sense of control over him.. like there's nothing he likes more than you forcing your fingers down his throat while you ride him.. a reminder that he's truly and wholly yours.. patrick honestly likes it cuz he's just a slut for you 🤷♀️
I KNOWWW this picture has already made it's rounds on challengers tumblr but I HAVE TO SAY MY PIECE!!!
he is literally the definition of a puppy like.. his downturned eyes are you kidding me?!?!! and his cute little smile RAHHHH
i need to twirl his hair in my fingers and give him kisses all over his face and his ears and his neck until he has to push me away <3
y'all idk if i can do day number 8.. i just don't picture art as a rough sex kind of guy!!! plus i don't super love writing about it so.. ill see y'all for day 9!!
art donaldson with an oral fixation...
always has to have some part of you in his mouth.. literally you're trying to do your homework and he's mouthing at your fingers.. or you're just laying in bed on your phone and he's sucking kisses into your neck.. yeah he gives you crazy hickeys but it's worth it cuz he's so cute :((
GOD... HIS ARMS... HIS HANDS... he's so handsome and cute and adorable and everything to me..
nonononono i need to talk about art with ed and y'all will listen!!!!!!!!!!!
i feel like it all starts with him just not feeling like enough, especially growing up around patrick, who was always the ladies man. art was never ever spontaneous, and always has to think before saying or doing anything, so it's easy for him to get into his own head about pretty much everything.
the problem with art is that he gets into a cycle.. he feels like he's not enough, so you try to make him feel better and relax.. but he gets so in his head that he just can't perform :( and then he feels so insecure again.. and all you can do is hold him while he lets silent tears run down his face until he falls asleep, and it repeats again :(
the flurry of pure white snow outside your window caused your peaceful slumber to be cut short, the brightness of it peeking through your eyelids no matter how tightly you closed them. shifting in your cozy bed piled high with blankets, you see your husband art has not been affected by the growing blizzard outside, his chest rising and falling accompanied by soft snores.
arts body was warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold that was trying it's best to seep in through the windows. even in his sleep, art could sense your movement, removing his arm from under the blanket and reaching out for you. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you interlace your fingers with his, watching his face relax back into peacefulness.
you find yourself able to fall asleep again, this time getting woken up by a pressure on your chest, causing your eyes to snap open before you recognize the familiar tuft of blond hair. the blond hair was, of course, connected to art, who was too busy pressing his head into your chest to notice that you've woken up. you raise your hand and run your fingers through his soft hair, causing art to startle.
"you're awake.." he mumbles, eyes threatening to fall closed. you smile, petting his hair gently. "i am" you say simply, the cloud of tiredness in your beginning to clear as you watch him become more awake as well. "what time is it?" art asks, trying to gauge the time of day by looking outside but the bright snow making it difficult. you grab your phone, turning it on to check, "it's like 11:30" you say, not surprised that you both slept in quite late. art hums, "let's just stay in bed all day.." he's only half joking, stretching out his legs and yawning before settling back into bed.
you giggle, rolling onto your side and looking at art, admiring the subtle lines and freckles on his face, brought out by the brightness in the room. art has flipped to lay on his stomach, his toned back now flexing as he moves his arms to stretch. you can't resist leaning forward and kissing his soft skin, trying to count the freckles scattered across his back like stars. "shouldn't we go downstairs and open presents?" you ask, selfishly trying to get him to stay in bed with you.
art shakes his head, opening his eyes and letting them roam over your face, taking in every little detail that he adores so much. "no way.. not when i have the best present up here.. all to myself" he jokes, a smile gracing his face. you almost groan at how cheesy it is, shoving your face into your pillow before you're interrupted by art nosing at your neck. he plants wet kisses along your jawline, and if you concentrate hard enough you can feel the smile on his lips.
the feeling makes your stomach jump, never getting used to the endless amount of attention you receive from art. he pulls you closer to him, helping you hike your leg over his hip and placing his warm hands on your lower back. you can feel his breathing start to pick up against your neck, the more he pushes on your lower back, the closer you get to the bulge straining against his briefs. you can't help but giggle, appreciating how quickly he gets flustered after all these years.
you grin against him, letting art lick at your lips as you place your hand between your bodies, trailing it down to his briefs. art whines lowly against your mouth when you rub your hand gently against him through the fabric, immediately feeling the wetness of the precum oozing out of him. "eager, huh?" you tease, pulling his underwear down to rest under his balls, now moving your hand against his bare skin, squeezing your hand around him to feel him pulsing.
art noses at your neck, rolling his hips into your fist and reveling at the warmth that feels a million times better than his own hand. "k-keep going.." he murmurs, tensing his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. you swipe your thumb over his tip, smearing his wetness over his dick as he whines. arts hand comes down to clutch at yours, not trying to stop your movements, just trying to ground himself by touching you.
art gets close to cumming embarrassingly fast, his hand tightening around yours so much that it almost hurts, but you keep going, almost having to pin him down as he squirms. the soft "ah, ah, ah"s escaping arts mouth get louder, and he can't warn you before his cum is spilling all over your hand. art always cums a lot, more than you'd expect to even be able to come out of his body. as the last of his cum spurts out of his angry pink tip, arts body shudders.
you pull your hand off of him, watching as his eyes flutter open again. art always gets extremely docile after he cums, after a few seconds of resting, art shifts his body to lay on top of you, and you aren't shocked to feel his dick hard again against your thigh. "let me make you feel good too.. please" you can feel the vibrations of his words against your neck, his soft lips working their way down your chest, taking time to suckle at your nipples. you instinctively spread your legs for him, making space for his body to settle between your thighs. art makes small noises of appreciation as he kisses the soft skin on your stomach, sometimes dragging his teeth gently along the skin to feel you tense up under him.
art places his large warm hands on the squishy skin of your inner thighs, pushing them apart even farther as you arch your back at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. art immediately starts mouthing at your clit and pushing his tongue inside you, not even worrying about whether he can breathe or not, just wanting to make you feel good. art has never had a technique for eating you out, he just practically makes out with your pussy until you have to pull him away by the soft curls on his head, which is what you're having to do currently. "art- art it's too much" you whine out, trying to shut your legs as best you can, but arts hands keep them spread wide for him. you can feel the knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten, motivating you to push arts face away from your cunt so you can look him in the eyes.
"art.. please fuck me" you normally aren't one to beg, but something about the way the soft morning light hits arts milky skin makes you terribly eager. art, always wanting to please, nods his head, finally shucking off his briefs and letting his cock smack against his stomach. art places his hand in front of you, wordlessly asking for you to spit in it for him. you comply, watching with slight awe as he uses your spit to lube himself up, rubbing his tip at your entrance before slowly moving inside. art isn't necessarily afraid of hurting you with his size anymore, but he knows his body well enough to know that if he goes too quick, he'll just cum immediately.
despite this knowledge, as art sinks further into the warmth you provide him, he finds all logic has disappeared. your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him close. art groans against your neck, picking up his head to kiss you passionately, before closing his eyes to focus on not cumming before you. "i can’t, its- you're too warm- just need—" he can’t form complete sentences, he’s thrusting mindlessly until he reaches his peak. you wrap your legs around his hips and whisper in his ear "go ahead.. cum for me art" and he's a goner. art gives one last thrust, the hardest he’s given you so far, then stills completely. his entire body shudders with the feeling of euphoria coursing through his body, he grips your hips so tight he’s sure you’ll have bruises in the shape of his hands. art holds you still and lets his cum pulse inside of you. he wants it as deep as possible. he can’t explain the need to breed that takes over his head, but he knows he can't risk you shifting even a little because he needs it all to spill inside.
you're sure he didn't even notice that you came too, squeezing so tight around him that if he was in his right mind he would have noticed. you let art come down from his high, slowly sinking further into your body as he places his head on your bare chest, shifting his hips slightly to pull out. art fights to stay awake, his instincts making him get up and pad over to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth for you and gently spreading your legs again, this time with more pure intentions. the feeling of the warm washcloth soothes your soreness, and you don't have to open your eyes when you feel art slip back into bed beside you, laying on his back as he pulls you to lay on his chest.
"merry christmas" he murmurs, a small smile on his face. you smile too, looking up at his blushing face. that's the last thing you remember before you fall peacefully back asleep, your dreams full of decorating trees, drinking hot cocoa and cuddling by the fire with your husband. <3
Artitck x fem reader comfort? reader on her period and usually they're so bad she gets sick and out of commission for the whole week. she just cries into patricks chest while Art plays nurse :(
you were being punished for something. you had to be. you woke up this morning with cramps that made you curl up in pain, only allowing you to hobble to the bathroom before getting back in bed. you send a hasty email to your professors before shutting your computer and getting cozy in bed again, the fetal position you're currently in is the only way to feel some small relief. you're passed out before you can alert your boyfriends about staying home, a mistake that will soon start knocking at your door.. literally.
*. : 。✿ * ゚ * .: 。 ✿ * ゚ * . : 。 ✿ **. : 。✿ * ゚
if you were awake, you would currently hear muffled voices outside your door, ones that are easily recognizable to anyone on the same floor of your dorm since they are almost always cracking jokes and laughing loudly. these voices belong to your boyfriends, art and patrick, who, at the moment, are arguing about who should've brought the extra key to your dorm. "dude she gave the key to you, why don't you have it?" the hushed voice of patrick zweig echoes through the hallway, looking pointedly at art. "i gave it to you remember? i had that match and you wanted to come over here.." art argues back, pointing at patrick. patrick rolls his eyes, rattling the doorknob. "fuck.. what if she's hurt in there or something?? she's not answering my texts" patrick all but bangs on the door, as art sees if you've texted either of them.
waking up with a groan, the loud bangs on your door make you sit up, heart racing. you immediately reach for your phone, wanting to call art or patrick but you're met with missed calls and unanswered frantic messages. you hop out of bed, despite feeling weak from the current cramps wracking your body. you unlock the door, pulling it open and being met with art and patrick, looking at you like they've seen a ghost. "what the fuck!" patrick sighs out, obviously relived to see you. art immediately rushes forward, hugging you tightly. "you scared the shit out of us you know that?" he pulls away, hands on your shoulders, "you don't show up to any of your classes or our practice and then you don't answer any of our texts or calls?" art is clearly happy to see you, but the adrenaline of being concerned about you hasn't worn off. "you scared the shit out of us babe" patrick says, shaking his head. "im really really sorry it's just-" you try to continue your sentence but you're interrupted by a particularly bad cramp, causing you to hunch over and groan in pain. both patrick and art move toward you, making sure you don't fall. "holy shit babe are you okay?" patrick is completely overtaken by concern for you, finding it hard to see you in pain.
"im sorry.. ive just been sick in bed all day you guys.." you explain, letting them guide you back into your room. you sit back in bed, art taking a seat in your desk chair, while patrick makes himself at home in your bed. "ive been sleeping all day.. it's like the only thing that makes me feel better.." you describe the current situation, curling into a ball holding your lower stomach. art and patrick exchange a sympathetic look, with art reaching out to hold your hand. "you've been stuck in here all day?" art frowns at you, his extreme sense of empathy kicking into high gear. you lean into the soft pressure of patrick sitting behind you as you nod. "yeah.. usually i can make it through the week but none of my pain meds are working" patrick nods and brushes a hand through your hair. art, forever the worrier, sits on the chair next to your bed, frantically looking up "how to stop period cramps" and "are period cramps dangerous" you see arts phone screen, smiling at his obvious want for you to be okay.
"art it's okay.. it'll pass.. its bad but it's normal" you reassure him, smiling through the pain. patrick laughs, smoothing his hand through your hair. "cmon art don't be stupid, don't you know anything about women?" he jokes, obviously trying to distract you from the waves of pain. "shut up patrick you hardly even knew what a period was until college!" art fights back, face slightly pink with embarrassment. you let the two of them battle it out, feeling yourself sinking further into the mattress with the feeling of arts hand in yours and patricks fingers weaving through your hair. they don't even notice you've passed out again until patrick needs you to help him fact-check art and you don't respond. their petty argument is forgotten as they get you more comfortable in bed, turning off your light and pulling soft blankets over you. you toss and turn in your sleep, unable to feel actually relaxed enough to fall into a true sleep.
a particularly bad cramp causes your eyes to snap open, a groan of pain escaping your lips as you open your eyes, seeing art and patrick sitting on your floor together. they both rush towards you when they see you're awake again, your pain stricken groan pulling on both of their heartstrings. patrick moves to lay beside on on the bed, guiding your head to lay against his warm chest. "where does it hurt sweetheart?" art asks, sliding himself between your legs to lay his head on your stomach. weirdly, the pressure of his head relieves the pain for a moment, allowing you to answer. "just all of my lower stomach.. the cramps just won't stop.." you feel tears well on your eyes, trying to blink them away to no avail. patrick takes quick notice of this, brushing his thumb under your eyes to wipe your tears. art almost looks like a kicked puppy, gazing up at you with his baby blue eyes, unable to help. art lets patrick continue to comfort you while he pulls out his phone again, researching ways to help relieve your cramps.
"okay.. pat here it says that we should get something warm for her.. that'll like relax her muscles or something" art jumps up and grabs his bag, rooting around in it frantically. finally, he pulls out a little blanket looking thing with a cord coming out of it. "it's a heating pad" he explains, "my coah gave it to me for my muscle spasms but i think it could really help.." you nod and he plugs it in, helping you press it against your lower stomach and hold it there. yet again, art rests his head on your stomach like a puppy, while patrick continues to cradle your head against his chest. the relief from the heating pad starts quickly, and the warmth send you to sleep once again, along with patrick and art.
for the rest of your absolutely miserable week, art and patrick stay by your side, giving you massages and chocolate and everything you could ask for.. anything to make you feel better again. art and patrick could be annoying at times.. but you're positive that you've never felt so loved <3