It's 12:33am
...and I think it would be a good idea to hammer out some words before I go to sleep - I've been immersed in activities occurring in the cytoplasm and endoplasmic reticulum for the past three hours.
-
This was nice, Arnold thinks. Just a cool, quiet night in his room, after that horrible week of utter exhaustion (Coach killed them at baseball practice this week because a rivalry game was just around the corner) and not to mention school (it was midterms week, so that explained itself), so Arnold feels like it was entirely well-deserved to-
"Ow-fuck, Football Head, you're stabbing my rib."
"Sorry, Helga."
Okay, so post-sex cuddling with Helga left a lot to be desired.
Helga didn't like cuddling. Or, well, it looked like she didn't, after the past two times he and Helga had sex. He wasn't complaining or anything - like, sex is sex and he considers himself damn well lucky to have gotten some - but damn, Helga was his freaking girlfriend for a reason, and that reason was he kind of liked her a lot. Liked her a lot to, you know, cuddle after sex.
But with a pillow suddenly wedged between them, that doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon. Arnold sighs.
"Helga?"
She gives a low grunt and snaps at him. "What?"
"Come here."
"No." Okay, the first time she said No was kind of endearing, but this was getting annoying. Arnold plucks the pillow out of the way and gingerly slides his fingertips over her bare, smooth torso, and he hears her breath hitch.
"Please, Helga."
She stiffens at his words. "Arnold-" He's sure that her vendetta against post-sex cuddling had something to do with her crappy upbringing and her crappy parents and her crappy sister but damn it she's with him, and he liked to think of himself as relatively not crappy, so he deserved a good cuddle.
And soon he was around her, looking down at her and damn, he kind of likes it when Helga's too shocked to speak. "Please, Helga," he whispers huskily, close to her ear and her neck did that thing where it turns pink when she's embarrassed.
"Arnold-" He burrows his face into her flushing neck and kissed her pulse, and he can practically feel her melt into him - and he knows that this is kind of cheating but whatever, he wants to cuddle, damn it, and he's going to pull all the stops to get her to even give a hug. "Arnold, we have school-"
"That didn't stop you last time," he fires back, and he's just so desperate for her that he grinds his hips against hers and he knows that-
Helga gasps and violently flips him over and he accidentally slams his head loudly against the bed frame, and for like two seconds he was seeing stars. "Fuck, Helga-"
"Shut up," she commands, and smashes her lips to his and does things to him that he's sure are illegal and immoral in different states. Or countries.
The passion passes and Helga's all tuckered out, and Arnold presses a kiss to her shoulder. "Helga," he whispers, and all Helga does is turn to him and practically wrap herself around him.
"I'm tired," she yawns softly, and presses her forehead against her boyfriend's bare chest. "Good night, Arnold."
"Good night," Arnold tells her, and he makes a fist and closing his eyes in victory.
-
That was absolutely pointless and totally made no sense but whatever, that felt good.
-
This was nice, Arnold thinks. Just a cool, quiet night in his room, after that horrible week of utter exhaustion (Coach killed them at baseball practice this week because a rivalry game was just around the corner) and not to mention school (it was midterms week, so that explained itself), so Arnold feels like it was entirely well-deserved to-
"Ow-fuck, Football Head, you're stabbing my rib."
"Sorry, Helga."
Okay, so post-sex cuddling with Helga left a lot to be desired.
Helga didn't like cuddling. Or, well, it looked like she didn't, after the past two times he and Helga had sex. He wasn't complaining or anything - like, sex is sex and he considers himself damn well lucky to have gotten some - but damn, Helga was his freaking girlfriend for a reason, and that reason was he kind of liked her a lot. Liked her a lot to, you know, cuddle after sex.
But with a pillow suddenly wedged between them, that doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon. Arnold sighs.
"Helga?"
She gives a low grunt and snaps at him. "What?"
"Come here."
"No." Okay, the first time she said No was kind of endearing, but this was getting annoying. Arnold plucks the pillow out of the way and gingerly slides his fingertips over her bare, smooth torso, and he hears her breath hitch.
"Please, Helga."
She stiffens at his words. "Arnold-" He's sure that her vendetta against post-sex cuddling had something to do with her crappy upbringing and her crappy parents and her crappy sister but damn it she's with him, and he liked to think of himself as relatively not crappy, so he deserved a good cuddle.
And soon he was around her, looking down at her and damn, he kind of likes it when Helga's too shocked to speak. "Please, Helga," he whispers huskily, close to her ear and her neck did that thing where it turns pink when she's embarrassed.
"Arnold-" He burrows his face into her flushing neck and kissed her pulse, and he can practically feel her melt into him - and he knows that this is kind of cheating but whatever, he wants to cuddle, damn it, and he's going to pull all the stops to get her to even give a hug. "Arnold, we have school-"
"That didn't stop you last time," he fires back, and he's just so desperate for her that he grinds his hips against hers and he knows that-
Helga gasps and violently flips him over and he accidentally slams his head loudly against the bed frame, and for like two seconds he was seeing stars. "Fuck, Helga-"
"Shut up," she commands, and smashes her lips to his and does things to him that he's sure are illegal and immoral in different states. Or countries.
The passion passes and Helga's all tuckered out, and Arnold presses a kiss to her shoulder. "Helga," he whispers, and all Helga does is turn to him and practically wrap herself around him.
"I'm tired," she yawns softly, and presses her forehead against her boyfriend's bare chest. "Good night, Arnold."
"Good night," Arnold tells her, and he makes a fist and closing his eyes in victory.
-
That was absolutely pointless and totally made no sense but whatever, that felt good.