A/N: Sooo...Uhh...I'M NOT HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR THIS! ... Darn, worst excuse yet.
So yeah, apparently I couldn't stop my perverted side from writing this little idea and I completely, entirely, wholesomely blame it on myself...and the suggestive Tango Scene in "April Fools Day".
I really need a boyfriend...for innocent purposes, of course. I'm really love-thirsty and I've never had a boyfriend in my 18 years of life (since I'm a social outcast who gives all her freetime to fictional characters...yay, my life is a lie.) I will edit grammar errors later.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Obviously. If I did, pigs would fly and barf rainbows.
"If only you were a wolf for at least a few minutes, you could prove that you don't need to be roughed up all the time." Helga said spontaneously, chewing a gum and legs sloppily on her working desk. Arnold was sipping coffee beside her, but when he heard those words, his eyes popped open and he almost did a spit take at that sudden comment.
"Excuse me?"
"I said that if you weren't such a walk-over, a doormat, then I might accept your ability to stand up for yourself and not take anyone's crap." She glared at him, resulting in him shrinking into his chair somewhat. Seeing this, Helga spoke again in a scornful tone.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. I'm married to you, but you still let yourself be pushed around by others. You're not only called "football head" for your weird-shaped head, but you are one personally. You let yourself be kicked around and never be boss." She spat out her gum, wrapped it in a paper and threw it in the wastebasket with perfect accuracy.
"But what am I saying, it's not like I can summon that bea-" She was interrupted abruptly by Arnold standing up so fast his chair fell back, then yanked her wrist and dragged her to the closest door he got to. Slamming the door behind them, he set upon Helga with an otherwordly look on his face.
She was quickly up the wall, barely missing the pain due to shock.
"Arnold, what-?"
"Shut up, Helga." He said in a demanding tone as he slid a hand up her pale skin and under her pink shirt. The captive didn't protest although her embarrassed squeak could be interpreted as such; she just wondered who the heck he was. This question grew stronger when feeling rough bites and nips lining up on her delicate neck, and she gasped at the pain, hands finding home on the boy's broad shoulders. She judged by the pleasurable pain from those bites that they would stay on her skin for many days to come.
"A, Arnold...d-don't be so rough..." She choked out shyly, blush deepened when she noticed that her shirt collar slid over her shoulder, the naked patch of skin welcoming the no-longer cold air. The temperature was accelarating on record speed, especially when he planted his mouth on her shoulder and kissed that area, making her shake.
That would almost be tender had he not ripped off the bow on her head, roughly grabbed her wrists and tied them together with it behind her back. She could manage little to no resistance, he had cornered her with his arms on each side after he was finished, blocking any possible escape routes.
"Changing you mind, eh? Don't worry, my poor friend. You're in good hands." He said suggestively, a very sly look on his face. Helga squealed in surprise as he, without permission, yanked up her legs around his body before grabbing her chin to make her look at him. Somewhere deep beneath the layers of aversion in her eyes he could see the pleading lust buried, submission evident by whimpers, and that's all he needed.
With wide eyes, she felt her mouth being ravished by his own, heart beginning to pound hard against her ribcage, sweat breaking out on her skin.
She suspected why he was doing this. She knew why he was doing this. It was sweet revenge mixed with love his conscious had ignored for too long. Sure, they have made love many times before, but this time was account of her triggering a memory of their childhood. There was no say he had actually been gentle; but he had certainly not been so demanding and controlling. He had asked her previous times if she felt okay whenever he positioned. Now he didn't even listen to a single peep coming from her.
And, to her embarrassment, she found it fairer. Arnold has always held back his power; helping others just as much as loving her. He had let himself be walked over by pretty much any kid in school. He had endured being a laughingstock, he had endured being accused for crimes he didn't do, and worst of all...
He had endured her endless bullying. Being a boy turning the other cheek, which was the better choice to do, he could do little but to shrug off any insults and pranks his way. He put up with the most offensive nicknames; all from "football head" to "hair boy", and yet he always called her "Helga" back. She had long suspected that he had a hidden rough, thirsty predator beneath that innocent shell, but he had been far too gentlemanly to act on those feelings. Little did he know that it's actually what she had been trying to induce in the first place. She had wanted for him to snap. She had wanted for him to tell her to buzz off.
That's why he took out his pent up anger on her; she had been the main cause.
Now it seemed to work, but she hadn't even hoped to crank up the level this much. Now his inner fire matched hers; now his passion was mirroring that of her own, and now he was having their bodies flush against each other in the friction she had long starved after.
He ripped their lips apart, blushing hard knowing full well that something else than love had been exchanged in that moment of intensity.
"Helga, you're not helping." He said in a low, sultry tone.
"Huh?" She asked vertiginously.
"You're driving me to the brink. I'm almost unable to control myself. I don't know who I've become, but it happens near you. I held back so many times, but now I can't. Helga, I'm so sorry..." He sounded genuinely confused, and his words were proven right because she felt a warm obduracy near her abdomen.
"Don't apologize, football head, do your worst. I mean, jeez. You really are dense. You're not supposed to control yourself; that's the whole point."
"Pardon?" He asked, wiping off saliva from her chin with his thumb, which gave her a churning feeling swindling in the pit of her stomach.
"Just do what I say and see where it goes." She stroked him with her foot along his hip, managing a faintly smug look. "Show me what you really got, Arnoldo."
At that, she heard him make a dark, guttural growl and, if possible, he got even wilder than before, making her spine shiver. Actually, it got to the point that he tried multitasking. First, he got her shorts down, then he began to work his mouth on her already hickey-decorated cream neck, and then he used his other hand to reach under her shirt once again up to reach her bust and explore that area. It wasn't hard clinging onto him since she was practically squeezed between the wall and her kidnapper. He was invoking the Stockholm Syndrome.
He nuzzled against her neck, and her hands ached to grab his blonde hair and run her sensitive hands through it, but alas, the bow wasn't kind enough to give her that chance. All she could give in her position was a low purr.
"Hnnghh...Arn-"
"Be quiet. You don't talk unless I want you to." He said coldly.
Hearing these words alone not only summoned a moist, jackhammering heat between her thighs, but made her give an instinctive wiggle with her hips, resulting in a grunt from Arnold.
"A-alright, talk if you want."
"NO, Arnold! Are you deaf? Quit being a doormat. I know what you want. You want to get back at me, and this is your chance. Don't back off now. Do your worst with me, hair boy! Make me unable to walk for the next two days!"
Now he seemed to get the hint, being dense must be a pain in the bum. Then when he gave her a lustful glare, grabbed with both hands on her inner thighs and dug his nails there until blood was almost drawn, she knew they were at the point of no return.
Sometime later, they were outside the closet, Helga following in tow. He had to slow down at many points so Helga could catch up.
There was a pling by the entrance door, resulting in someone entering. Arnold looked up and smiled innocently at the visitor, who smiled back.
"Hey Gerald, I thought you were going to spend the weekend with Phoebe."
"Nah, we scratched that plan. She is having a huge working project, being a college student and all...so I just have to accept that." He sighed sadly, but shone up like a star at the reason he came there.
"That's actually why I'm here. I was wondering if you wanna see a movie or something. Helga can come along." He opressed a glare her direction. Only because she happened to be the wife of his best friend didn't mean they were on the bestest terms, but he had to endure being in her presence. Besides, there were those few occasions when they actually agreed on something, and it took long before he accepted Arnold's feelings for her and trust his word on that she wasn't that bad a person deep down. After all, he was the most honest guy around.
"That would be great, Gerald. We can go in a few. Helga's working hours are almost over."
"Okay." He said happily, glad that he wouldn't be spending this saturday alone. He walked outside to wait for them.
Helga packed her things together as Arnold looked on, seeing her petite frame working to get the desk clean from coffee stains and the like. She wasn't a model, but he found her breasts really cute, and while she wasn't that curvy, she was slender and pale. Something about her form made him have a thought, and he uttered it out without reconsideration, glad that his needs had already been relieved in the last 30 minutes.
"You're a freaking fox, Helga..." He whispered in a low, brutish voice.
Helga halted, feeling a burn on her cheeks. Quickly she whipped around to look at him, who in turn flinched a little in surprise.
"Excuse me?" She asked, fiddling with the cloth in her hands.
He seemed to realize what he had just said because he looked aside and his blush mirrored her own. "I-I said...-"
"Hey, guys, are you coming? You're taking forever!" They suddenly heard Gerald shout from outside.
Arnold quickly took this opportunity as a rescue and began heading to the exit very quickly. Helga smiled shyly, knowing what he had said and feeling flattered that the only one she loved the most in the world actually thought that she was attractive.
"He really is a wolf in lambskin, that boy." She thought to herself and quickly followed suit.
Later they were walking towards the movie theaters. Gerald was only mostly talking to Arnold but it didn't hinder him from noticing there was something odd about Helga. When he finally put a finger on what it could be, he leant down and whispered to Arnold:
"Hey Arnold, why is Helga limping?"
A/N: Mhhmmmm, well, uhh...that was at least something. Not perfect, but something...AND THAT'S DECENT!
AND NO EXPLICIT SEX SCENE! TAUNT TAUNT TAUNT!
I will regret uploading this, I mean, God.
Well, I will just let my hidden erotic side take it's toll this time around.
Btw, Arnold and Helga are very young adults, since they got married at a very young age, because that's what I see happening to them. Also, according to "The Patakis", a spin-off series that never came to be, but was supposed to center around Helga as a teenager, Arnold's and Helga's relationship was very dysfunctional. They fought all the time because Helga is mentally instable and took out all of her emotions on Arnold (romantic such as aggressive) since her parents where neglecting her. Ergo, in this fanfic, I tried that approach a little bit. They are married, but a little aggressive and belligerent towards one another. I feel like a sadist but...I really like that idea.
Rate and review would be very much appreciated.
