#stabtxt

“You're awful close today, mister.”

It's an observation you can't help but make. Tenna has been hovering. His feelers flick their way, and that's nothing new— he always keeps his antenna curled towards you, keen to listen, to pick up your every word. He's got a good memory. It's cute, the way he cares so much about what his mechanic has to say, just because you’re the youngest person he works with… and because you’re special. For whatever reason, everyone here thinks so. You don’t totally understand the way it all works yet, the Dark World, the fountain. It opens and closes, you come and go, but it’s been fun spending time with Mr. Ant-Tenna at least.

He has a tendency to fuss over kids. You aren’t one, but you’ll let him pretend, if that makes him feel important. He’s even said you’re like family to him… which is interesting, considering the way he likes to look at you. Because you’re sure he’s looking; even without eyes, he makes it obvious. Turns his whole screen your way, and stares. Maybe he knows he can get away with it, since no one else can tell him ‘no’. Nobody else is a ‘Lightner’. ‘Lightner’ types are important around here, because they’re ‘real’. But reality is relative.

So. You’re aware of how his antenna just adore twitching towards you. But this isn’t that. They've been… tickling you, all day. Flicking across your hair, brushing your temple, and your throat. It's made you giggle a few times, which only has him leaning closer, where he stands behind you. One hand braced on the table as you try to work on the studio intercom. You think you’ve nearly figured out why it won’t connect to the whole building anymore. You think one of the interns must’ve gotten sick of Tenna narrating his breakfast to the whole studio each morning. Rearranged some of the cables.

“Can't spend time with my kid?” He mumbles, nose poking at your jaw, fingers curling around your shoulder, squeezing slightly. He's overly warm. You love it, usually, but you've been hot today. Sweaty. You’ve been under the fluorescents awhile. “You just seem so tense. You work too hard. Why not let me sort out those kinks in your back, sweet-pea?”

“You're not that slick, Tens. What gives?” You tease, and he whimpers, dropping his sly tone as he grasps at your ribs, nails curling slightly through his gloves.

“Fine. You smell good. You smell— you smell…” He rubs the lower part of his face against your cheek, up over your head, sliding his jaw across your hair. “I'm lonely. You won't spend any time with your old man, because you hate him, you think he's lame. And you come around smelling so nice, like fairy floss and salt. Not fair!”

“I didn't know they had cotton candy here.” You say, just before you squeak, lifted up like you weigh less than a slip of paper to him. He pulls you into his arms, locking them tight around you, bending you over the counter as he shifts to press his hips to your backside.

“Let's cuddle.” He pants softly, heat from his screen making you wriggle slightly, and he presses back to hold you still with his weight. “Don't fuss! Be good for me, kiddo. Be good, and you'll get a prize, okay? Shush.”

“Cuddle? On my work table?” Demented, but not a totally unusual request. However. ‘Cuddling’ usually led to… “Tenna, we’re in the studio—” Your whole body jerks in surprise when his fingers smooth over your stomach, claws elongated, tapping at the snaps on your skirt as he pushes it up. “Wait!”

“It's okay! It's alright.” He quickly hushes you, clamping a hand over your mouth. “I can smell it on you. What you need. Dunno why you kept it from me, doll-baby, you know I'm here to help you. Entertain you, however you need.” His thumb catches on your panties, and he tugs them aside. “Make it so good for you.”

You can hear the sound of his zipper get yanked down, and you can't even start to protest before you feel his cock start to press in, corded, slick cables bunched around the length of his shaft before they start unwinding in your core.

“Ah, hah… G-Good kid, such a good kid.” He starts snapping his hips hard enough to jostle the table, and you have to bite your lip near to bleeding to keep from crying out. “Poor baby, you're soaked already! I didn't even need to— ngh— stretch you out first. I just glided right in, stuffed you so easy. And you're so sticky, and hot… I can tell, you know? Smell how your body changes, when your hormones get you all needy inside.”

“I could tell days ago. I stopped touching myself, I had to, to hide that pair of panties I usually love to wrap around my cock when I jerk off before work. Wanted to save up for you, so I could give you lots and lots of love.” He lifts your rear, changing the angle so he can hammer in easier, belly to your back to keep you flat and trapped, hand under your stomach. “You're so cute. I love you, and I love our family. Can we have a family? I want a family with you so, so bad. And your body wants it too!”

“You are so gross.” You laugh softly, breath shoved out with each roll of his hips, and he growls— which just makes you smile. You’re burning up, and he’s so heavy, and he never knows how to ask for anything. He just knows how to tell you what he wants, and what he plans to take from you, as many times as he can. “You said cuddling!”

“I said I wanted to hold you!” He lies, scrambling to re-cover your mouth, fingers splaying, claws sliding past your lips to hold your tongue. “Don’t be mean. Naughty, naughty. You’re supposed to love me. Family is supposed to share everything.”

His voice is a hissing, hateful snarl by the end of his little rant, and he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth in time with his thrusts. You couldn’t fight him off if you tried. He weighs more than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you’re lucky he’s got so much experience with people half his size, or you’d already be crushed. Maybe you should call him a professional cradle-robber.

“You’ll make such a pretty mommy. It’s not fair to deny me— deny us that, when we both want it, and I know you do. I told you, I can smell it all over you.” His antenna wrap around your throat, and he pulls his fingers from your mouth to listen to you choke as he yanks his head back to strangle you. “Gagging for it, skipping around like a tart, teasing me! Like I could get any work done with every drop of your sweat screaming out how bad you need to be bred!”

He’s babbling about frying your birth control in the microwave when you see the pair of wire-cutters balanced on your toolbox. You tilt your hips up a bit for him, and he inhales, delighted you’ve chosen to participate. It really is the little things, with him. He’s easy to please, but impossible to satisfy. That’s why when you grab the clippers, and sheer his antenna, you know it’s for his own good. And because you wanna hear him scream.

“YOU—” He roars, stumbling back, hands flying up to yank at his shortened antenna as they spark and twinkle at the ends. “You little brat! Did you really just give me the SNIP?”

You hear the sound of his length retract, the metal shield that guards it and his wires clicking into place, and you roll your eyes. “You’ve still got your cock, so I think you’re gonna be alright.”

He takes a step forward, screen going dark, and oh dear. You’ve upset him! He’s a moody thing. It’s nothing you didn’t anticipate, even though you’ve fixed his antenna plenty of times. Yanked them off plenty of times too. He’s only mad now because he didn’t get to cum… you’ll make it up to him later.

You slam your hand down on the intercom, and he freezes as the loudspeaker squeals to life, and you give him a gentle smile that tells him everything he needs to know. If he doesn’t calm down, you’ll scream. And he can get away with so very much, in this special little world of his, but you wonder what would happen if word got out he played dirty games with his new Lightner. He says in his old World, he was the guy in charge, but you don’t know if that’s true now.

“Mr. Tenna says everyone can take the day off today.” You say, leaning back with that placid grin that makes his own lips twitch up, teeth flat and grinding together. “And he says he’s gonna escort me home now… just like a gentleman should, past midnight. Don’t you wanna be a gentleman, Tenna?”

His screen flicks, static snow, color-bars, before it settles on a smile that’s a little less strained. Almost bashful.

“I’m your man, sweetheart.” Oh, but he’s not a man at all. He just pretends to be. Just for you. How lucky you are… “I. I got overexcited, huh? It’s alright. You can… you can stop broadcasting.”

“I thought you liked the attention.” You say. “A never-ending audience.”

“Please.” He’s simpering again, rubbing his injured antenna. “Please, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad! I just wanted to play, and. I played too hard. It won’t happen again.”

That’s definitely not true. But you like it when he lies, and you don’t wanna punish him forever. You love him too much for that. Not that you’ll tell him. He’ll get a big head. Literally. He tends to grow, when you stroke his ego too much.

You take your hand off the intercom, and shake your head as he fidgets in place, chastised. “Don’t mope. I just didn’t want your static spunk making my legs go numb again.”

In an instant, he’s bounced back to cheerfulness, grinning sweet and silly as he scoops you up, and gives you a little spin. “But I could’ve carried you back to the fountain! The brave cowboy who saves the town, who carries off his love into the sunset.”

“Sunrise.”