Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

The Creeps	By : SleepSomehow Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 6641 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold! nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Just another dorky fan.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
9: Cold Peas on Bruised Egos

I should've known better.

Yet his mind had been elsewhere.  Skimming over pages and pages of her impossibly neat, swirling handwriting. Dwelling on those imaginative passages...
Eyes locked on the boy in bed, I give a "shiver of my own lust, grasping myself.
If only I could help you, Arnold. What I'd give to see you make that face at me... because of me..."
Lost in his own memories, knowing this young woman fantasizes about him in such detail...
"I slide a hand down my panties knowing damn well I've already soaked them through."
It was easy to get caught up in the moment. Push things further than he initially intended the date to venture. Instead, catapulting it to where he very, very badly wants things to go. Especially now that he knows what Helga really thinks of him...
"Arnold, my inspiration, my muse."
He sighs, leaning his head in his hands, sticky chocolate and all.
This isn't just any old girl. This isn't just any old crush. It's Helga! She's... different. The tough exterior is hella tough. Just as the inner core is, apparently, as delicate as a damn flower...
His eyes wander to the discarded bouquet of and white gardenia petals and leaves across the filthy cement.
"Why did she hit you?"
"Did you cop a feel?"
"Oh man, that's gonna be one hell of a shiner!"
"I told you something was up, Arnold!" Gerald squats down beside Arnold, "Look, the girl laid you out like old trash. Will you listen to me now and screw your head back on straight?!"
Stinky snorts a laugh, "Think she already done screwed it back on straight for him herself!"
Arnold looks up, mostly with the one good eye as the other is swelling shut quick, "How did you show up just like that?" He gives Gerald an accusing scowl, "Were you following me?"
"Looking out for you, buddy," Gerald reaches out a hand and helps Arnold to his feet, "Well, trying to. I shoulda intervened sooner. Before you got hurt."
"I can manage myself," Arnold mumbles, brushing the street grim from his clothes.
"Why did she hit you and run off like that?" Harold repeats, "Never saw a girl run in heels that fast before. Almost knocked Sid right over!"
"In her defense, I didn't move," Sid grins, "Was hoping she'd mow me down."
Gerald gives him a look, "Man, you ain't right."
Stinky picks up the disheveled bouquet and holds it out to Arnold, "Sorry your date didn't go so hot, Arnold."
"It's ok Stinky," Arnold plucks the bouquet from his friend and starts off down the road with the group, "I just... I guess I messed up."
"She was already tossing milkshakes at you," Gerald points out, "It was headed toward failure the moment it started."
"No," Arnold tries to glare at him even with the swelling side of his face radiating pain at the move, "It wasn't. I messed up. Me. Not Helga."
Gerald grimaces, seeing Arnold is close to his breaking point, "Chill, man. We cool."
The boys continue talking about everything from Helga wearing a dress and actually looking like a girl to the velocity of a chocolate milkshake verse vanilla.
As they bicker, Arnold remains distant, only able to dwell on how he really screwed up. If he had just been patient, let Helga set the pace, their date would be continuing right now. Maybe to the movies. Or the ballpark. Heck, they could've just sat in the damn park all night chatting and that would be perfectly fine. He wonders where she is now. Probably back at home locked in her room fuming mad or, worse, crying.
His heart sinks at the thought.
There's got to be something I can do to make it up to her! Apologize, groveling on hands and knees, explaining what happened and how I just got carried away. I never meant to make her that uncomfortable. I... I deserve this black eye.
Would an apology, any apology, be a wasted effort? The girl barely trusts him as it stands. Now, what sort of chance would he have?
No chance in hell.
Their walk through town turns into an escort back to the boarding house. It's apparent to everyone Arnold is done for the night. His silence hangs heavy on their usually energetic conversation.
"Maybe you just gotta give her a breather," Stinky pats Arnold on the shoulder as they stop at his front steps, "Let her cool off a bit, y'know?"
"Or go over there right now and punch her back!" Harold gives a triumphant laugh at his own idea, "An eye for an eye! Hah! Get it?!"
Stinky squints down his hooked nose at the squat, chubby teen, "A gentleman never hits a lady!"
"Helga's no lady!" Harold tries reminding everyone.
"You say that," Sid smiles, wistful, "But she looked like one in that dress tonight. Jeez-Louise! Can I go out with her next, Arnold? I mean, now that she used you as a punching bag. Maybe give the rest of us a turn?"
Arnold rises from where he leans on the steps with a sour expression and clenched fists, "The only punching bag I see around here is you, Sid."
Gerald shoves the kid away from Arnold more meant as a suggestion than an offensive move, "Ya'll head out and give the guy some air. He doesn't want to hear any of your bull right now, got it?"
They laugh, grumble, and cuss, mulling away in a huddle down the road while whispering jeers.
Gerald stays, slumping against the stoop beside Arnold, nearly back to back. When the guys are long gone he gives a sigh.
"You must actually like her."
Arnold looks down at what's left of the beaten flowers, "Maybe I do. What's it to you?"
"I'm... sorry, man. Just worried about all this. Aren't you going a little fast? It's kind of sudden."
"I told you about the journals," Arnold starts.
"Sort of."
"All the poems, all the nice things she said she had done for me over the years without taking any credit."
"Kinda crazy to think of Helga as 'nice'."
"We just... we spent some time together the last few days and I really like who I'm getting to know; the real Helga."
There's a pause between the boys. Gerald considering his best friend's point of view.
"I'm gonna trust you to make your own decisions an' all," Gerald turns and steps down from the stoop, giving Arnold a faint smile, "Whatever happens I got your back. Good or bad."
"I appreciate that Gerald, but it may be too late."
"What did you do that got you punched, anyway? Man she really wailed on you! Never seen her look that angry before!"
"Ah, well," Arnold rubs the back of his neck, "Guess I moved too fast- wait a sec... You saw her hit me?"
Gerald laughs, "Yeah man I thought she was gonna keep going! Beat you to a pulp!"

Arnold groans and slumps down to the steps, burying his head in his hands, "That's why she freaked out... I mean, it might've been me going to fast but she saw you guys watching us. She-She thinks I'm dating her as some sort of joke!"
"Come again?" Gerald plops down beside him, "A joke?"
"Yeah, she saw you guys tailing us and, I guess, put two and two together."
"I knew this was a setup!! Thought you'd have a good laugh with your stupid friends at my expense, eh Football Head!? Try to play me for a fool!?"
"Why would she think you're dating her for a laugh?! That's not like you at all..," Gerald looks away in shame, "Guess we messed things up for you then, eh? Was just keepin' an eye on you..."
Arnold sighs, "I know but she doesn't think that. How am I gonna fix this? I really like her, Gerald. I think, in a way, I always have. Man... I gotta try and apologize."
"Wish there was somethin' I could do?"
"I dunno," Arnold mutters as the boys stand again, "I just dunno."
They do the best friend handshake that has been their greeting and goodbye since way back when. The unspoken sign that everything is cool between them.
With that Arnold opens the door to his boarding house, stepping into the foyer to the sounds of people in the kitchen. He places the wilted flowers on a side table and continues on toward the adjacent room.
Grandpa and Mr. Kokoshka are playing a game of chess at the kitchen table.
"Looks like someone had their first date! I'd ask how it went but, well.... let's grab the peas from the icebox for that shiner."
He rises from the table and shuffles to the fridge, giving Kokoshka ample time to cheat in their chess game.
He hands off a cold bag of snap peas to Arnold and puts an arm around the teen's shoulders before turning back to Mr. Kokoshka.
"I'll be right back after this important man-to-man sorta talk with my grandson. Don't you touch a thing, you snake!"
"Can't trust that guy a lick!" Grandpa grumbles, walking Arnold up the stairs to his rooftop bedroom,
"So what'd ya do?"
Arnold keeps his eye down to the carpet, the other having a bag of peas over it, "She saw some of my friends tailing us and now thinks I went out with her as a joke. She doesn't think I'm serious."
"Oh boy, that puts a stick in the spokes. Some friends, eh?"
"They had good intentions, I guess. But now I don't know what to do."
"Sock one of the fellas. Whoever the ringleader is. That should do it."
"I'm not socking Gerald, Grandpa."
"Alright then, well, if that's all she's mad about then you just gotta prove you ain't kidding around."
"That may not be the only reason she punched me," Arnold mumbles, hanging his head.
"What, you try to kiss her?"
"Yeah."
"And she wasn't having it?"
"Guess not."
Grandpa gives a sigh, "Welp, that's the thing. You gotta let her call the shots, Shortman. See, that's where I messed things up with your grandma! That little sweetie of yours is too darn mean to let anyone but herself be in charge of, well, those sorta things."
Arnold cringes a little, hoping this isn't devolving into a "the birds and the bees" talk.
"So what did you do?" he asks, trying to divert the conversation.
"Hmm, your grandma eventually forgave me. Just had to say a few nice things, show her how sorry I was, and walk around with a black eye for a week! Was a bit of a pain, although if I didn't get your Grandma to forgive me then you wouldn't be here today!"
"You just... talked to her?"
"Ah, well, there are some things a grandfather shouldn't discuss with his grandson, if you catch my drift," Grandpa waggles his eyebrows, "Say, that reminds me. Did we ever have the talk about the-"
"I'm good," Arnold stops him before he can go any further and make this evening worse, "I got it."
"Boy, that's a relief, "His grandpa turns to leave as Arnold embarks up the stairs to his converted attic bedroom.
"Oh, by the way! Your grandma left something for you in your desk drawer. Y'know, in case you need them."
"Mmmk..." Arnold shuts the door behind him, locking the night away and recoiling both mentally and physically into his bedroom.
He lays on the couch for awhile, staring up at the stars, before remembering the chocolate in his hair.
Moments later, after wiping off the couch and embarking to the bathroom for a good face/head wash in the sink, he returns back to the seclusion of his room and plops down at his desk. The mentally drained teen takes a deep breath and opens his desk drawer, already having a feeling he knows what's in there. Although, clearly, not knowing the amount of them. The drawer is overflowing with condoms. All different types. More than he's seen in one place before. With a blush that stings, he picks up a hand-penned note from the pile.
"There's already enough mouths to feed in this wagon train, Cowpie!"
Arnold leans over the desk and rests his forehead with a smack against the wood surface.
"Fuck my life."

Work in progress! 3/2/18
Had to go back and edit chapters 8 and 9 as they were first drafts and full of flaws (left out Helga spotting the gang following them around). Please re-read 8 and 9 if you are following the progression. I appreciate the reviews! I do fanfics for fun to shake off writers block. :)
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Creeps