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"Fuuuuuck…" As much as you're frustrated, a groan ripping from the back of your throat, you were, frankly, very lucky. It's not often you catch your period just as it's starting while using the bathroom. How many years have you been having them and you still forget about them every month? It's always an unpleasant surprise… Which is why you always, always carry a backup pad or two.
The main difference is that you're in the plain, mostly disused bathroom located in TV World, which you decided to visit today on a whim. Yeah, yeah, the Dark World, we've all heard of it. At least the vague sense of malaise you've been battling all day makes sense. As if unleashed by your recognition, an ache starts from deep and low within your abdomen, and you again groan as you clean up and exit the bathroom. You return to the Green Room, where your very energetic television, Tenna, awaits you.
He's like a giant robot dog- always eager to see you. Something, or maybe multiple somethings, bad happened to him, you've figured out, and he's far from being normal, but you like him anyway. He's fun, perky, and always trying to keep you smiling and laughing with silly jokes and fun games. But there's more to it than that. He goes out of his way to make you comfortable, especially when you feel a wave of sickness coming on, which is generally often enough to make you feel guilty, but not so often it's predictable or inevitable. Maybe it's because he's seen you suffer from it plenty before in the Light World.
"Hey! Glad to see you didn't fall in," he greets you, a cheesy laugh track playing from somewhere unknown, and you crack a smile. "Nope, just starting to feel a little rough today. But I'm alright." For now, at least. As you walk ahead, you miss how he sniffs the air, a quizzical tilt to his smile. What is that…? Was it always here? The Lord of Screens can't place it… But it's organic, and that's enough to answer his question for now.
It's not long before your period triggers your chronic illness. Your focus on the silly little quiz segment you're doing with Tenna wavers as something inside you begins to feel very wrong. It's like the stalking approach of a killer in the fog, the slow onset of a frightening, droning soundtrack. Tension rises, and your gaze becomes glassy, far away. "Hello?" You hear Tenna utter your name, and just then the odd twisting in your body releases as pain blooms. You buckle forward with a strangled cry, hands flying to the bottom of your stomach as your organs revolt.
He's always very understanding. Tenna gently ushers you to his game room, letting you sit on the gigantic couch, and he sits with you. You swear he smiles wider, but he's probably just putting on an act because he's worried about you, you assume. You'll accept his pity over the alternatives: being dismissed, ignored, or worse, treated with disgust. "What can I get you? Water, a blanket? A doctor?"
"A blanket," you grumble, still clutching your stomach, and remember… Heat always helps. Especially this type of symptom, with the episode of cramping combining with your period to make you feel vaguely feverish and sick on top of it. "Wait." He stops mid-turn away, looking back at you, asking "Yes?" "Something warm, too, like a hot water bottle. Please."
Your eyes close, and you miss how Tenna grins as he steps off with freakishly long strides, quickly clearing across hallways to retrieve what you've asked for, his antennas stiff and set at angles like rabbit ears. He pulls a slightly defective TV TIME-branded throw blanket from the closet in his office- it had come with a minor tear in the fabric. He hadn't planned on keeping it, but the first time you had an episode while hanging out, he'd grabbed it from a scrap pile and thrown it over you, later discovering it held your scent after you were gone.
He was only a little ashamed of how long he spent holding it to his nose that night, screen burning as he palmed at himself. But that was then, and this is now. Soon Tenna returned with the blanket and a cup of water, the smile on his face wide and cheerful as he threw the blanket over you and handed you the water. "We don't have a heating pad or hot water bottle around, but I have something better!" He kneels in front of you, leaning close. "CRT Televisions produce a lot of heat," he elaborates. "So let me help!" He rests his head on your stomach before you can object, holding himself up with his hands on the couch so he doesn't crush you, and… He is. Very warm.
Tenna's antennas lean towards you, listening as you groan, the warmth of his head beginning to relieve the deep ache originating beyond your muscles. "Thanks," you mumble, feeling your face heat up at the intimate positioning, and yet your gratitude for the relief outweighs any awkwardness. However, this relief is short-lived when you hear Tenna take a deep, loud sniff, and his hands clench the couch cushions. A distinct heat of embarrassment overtakes you, making you want to shrink into yourself until you just disappear altogether. Do you stink already?? "Ah, I'm sorry if I smell bad! Uh, my period just started and that's why I feel sick!"
He turns to look at you, and the heat in your face only increases when you see his expression- flushed pink, pixilated sweat on his screen, his smile wobbly. "Oh, that's what that is," he announces, taking off his gloves, revealing purple robotic hands. "I wondered what smelled so good. Having your period means you can have children, right?" You swallow, and find your mouth dry, so you drink your entire cup of water, hoping it will chase the heat out of your face and body, to no avail. "Uhhh, yeah." You wonder for a moment if you're going to have to explain the menstrual cycle to him, only to see him raise up off your stomach and pull the blanket off of you, the movement exposing to you his lower half.
He's hard, cock bulging in his tight, shiny pants, and he grasps one of your thighs in one of his huge hands, making you gasp and instinctively try to close your legs. "I'll make you feel better," Tenna proclaims, licking his lips, and you twitch at the intensity of his gaze, feeling like you're about to be consumed as he brings his other hand to your other thigh. "W-w-wait," you stutter, but he's already gently prying your legs open and pointing his nose at your crotch, taking another deep inhale, which has him groan and flush a darker, rosy shade.
This was both a dream and a nightmare come true. Look at the guy. Mr. Ant Tenna is a gigantic man who's in great shape, given his fluid movements, his pants are so tight that his ass is hard to ignore, and to top it all off, he's friendly to you in spite of your total bummer of an illness that sometimes interrupts your fun. Even his antennas are cute. So what if you've stroked yourself a few times, late at night, tucked away in your bedroom? Hiding away from the television he represented, cursing yourself for your desperation? Anyone would do the same in your situation. Anyone would beg God for his touch.
But like this? You feel humiliated and yet, you also feel your blood rapidly rushing south, to between your legs. Tenna lifts his head again, trailing his huge hands up to unbutton your pants as he babbles on. "I promise you'll like it. I want you to feel good, to forget about everything else! Let me help you."
He's unzipping your pants and you should say no. You should kick him away. And yet you say and do neither. You let him touch your ailing, traitorous body, every brush of his fingers against your skin sending heat to your core. Tenna's still rambling as he pulls your pants down and glimpses your underwear, gently pulling them down and away as you lift your hips.
A mumbled "please" escapes your lips before you can stifle it, and he takes a moment to just stare at your bloody, messy mound, practically panting as you see him undo his belt and unzip his pants. Your gaze snaps back to his screen, though, when he presses his head between your legs, steam warming your legs as it releases from his vents, keeping you from getting cold.
"Just let me take care of you," he coos to you before opening his mouth and running his tongue through your folds, from the bottom to the top, slowly tasting you, a deep groan rumbling from his throat as you hear him start stroking himself with his spare hand, the other on the couch, holding him up so that his head doesn't crush you.
Your thighs twitch as he runs his tongue through your folds again, to start gently lapping at your clit, listening carefully to your every breath and sound. Each time you moan, you see his antennas twitch, and his tongue begins to flick twisting shapes around your sensitive bud, occasionally stopping to bring his tongue as deeply into your slit as he can get it, before again licking your clit with growing force.
Every flick of his tongue is deliberate, perfectly calculated to make you arch your back and press yourself into his face. You can hear him stroking himself faster and faster as a wonderful pressure begins to build inside you, and you're whimpering his name as you draw closer to your climax. He mumbles something into your slit as he suddenly presses his tongue flat on your clit and starts to lick with heavy pressure. You throw your head back and buck weakly into his mouth as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your whole body twitching in sheer bliss as Tenna moans into your folds, his hand finally stilling as he spills onto the floor and the side of the couch. Even so, he licks your clit and your folds through your orgasm, savoring every taste of both your cum and your menses like it's his last meal.
Once you're done, you try to lift his head, the feeling becoming overstimulating, and while you can't lift him at all, he pulls away from you, looking at you with a flushed face and almost drunken smile. "That was amazing," you pant, slowly coming down from the orgasm, much to his apparent delight as he licks his lips, screen vibrant.
"That's great to hear, hahah! Did you notice what I was doing?" You shake your head, answering, "Other than giving me the best head of my life?"
He grins at you, running a hand over your stomach. "I was writing "I love you" with my tongue! So… That means we're dating now. Right?"