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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

#bun writes #bun writes: drabbles #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

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eyndr-stories · 2 years ago

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Chester and the Jesters (FNAF SB fanfic) C5 - A friendly game of minigolf

In Summary:

The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??

Things To Know (always read responsibly!):

Biggest warnings are for blood, death, knives, murder, the police, violence, also the OC is at one point hit by lightning. All fun stuff

About 70,000 words in total, 9 chapters, so roughly like. 7,500 words per chapter

This is an OC story, not a reader insert or a self insert! But if you want to imagine otherwise be my guest lol

Angst, fluff

OC x Sun & Moon, there's romance but zero spice

Occasional swearing

Heavy focus on Sun and Moon but most of the rest of the gang is there too :)

Afton doesn't exist, sorry peepaw, Vanessa is here but she's very chill. She's a kickass gamer girl lmao

Moon does an attempted murder but its fine. He's just a lil guy ok

OC uses they/them and also sign language most of the time

Impersonation, lying. There's also manipulation. Yall I wasn't kidding about the angst

There's also a lot of focus on how they're all robots, very cool robots with feelings lol

That's all I can think of, as always please lmk if I should add anything!

Ao3 Link: Right here!

Start reading here: Chapter 1

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

C5 - A friendly game of minigolf

Luckily for Chester, Vanessa was far too occupied ranting to them about videogame speed-run strategies to notice how slowly they were working or how intently they watched her work. Chester might be slow, but they were struggling a lot less with their tasks than they had been. Things like wiring and running diagnostics were starting to make sense, and when things didn't make sense, they could usually puzzle out a solution given enough time.

Vanessa and Chester had just finished replacing a broken coin slot on one of the arcade cabinets (talking about the games in the arcade had quickly steered into favorite video games, of which Vanessa had quite a few) when they decided it was time for a break.

"You'd think with how much of it there is around here I'd hate pizza by now, but I still crave it almost as much as Chica," Vanessa said. "You wanna go in on a pie with me?"

"Sure, that sounds good." Chester called the elevator. They looked back at the arcade as they waited, watching a group of kids going absolutely feral on the arcade's connecting dance floor. The DJ, an enormous animatronic perched atop a stage, waved at Chester and Vanessa as they left the arcade. They both waved back.

"The DJ is a really nice guy. Have you talked to him yet?" Vanessa asked. She pushed the button for the main floor, and the elevator made its decent towards the food court, energetic pop music coming in through an overhead speaker.

"I haven't. I thought he couldn't talk? He doesn't have a voice box, just music files and speakers." Chester recalled DJMM's extensive diagrams.

"He uses sign language, like you." Vanessa made the sign for 'sign language', moving her pointer fingers in opposing circles. "Between the two of you, I'm getting lots of practice!"

Chester smiled at that. The elevator doors opened, and the two made quick work of acquiring lunch. The glamrocks were putting on a show for the lunchtime crowd. Chester and Vanessa passed a gaggle of kids loudly singing along on their hasty retreat from the commotion.

The breakroom was blissfully quiet compared to the rest of the building. Chester's headaches were getting less frequent, but they still relished the reprieve from the cacophony of noise.

The two sat at Chester's usual corner table. There were only two other employees in the break room, neither of them people Chester recognized. Chester happily dug into their cheap and extra cheesy mall food quality pizza with Vanessa.

"Have those cops outside asked you any questions yet? They're sooo annoying. They nearly made me late for my shift this morning." Vanessa rolled her eyes.

"I guess I've gotten lucky," Chester signed slowly, staring at their slice of pizza.

Vanessa went on. "They apparently wanted to search the building, but they can't get a warrant. I asked a few questions myself, though. Get this- they haven't given up on the steak-out yet because the criminal they're after is wanted for murder. They lost the crook somewhere in the woods behind the plex, so they think the crook is hiding out there somewhere. Like, hiding in a tree fort or in a cave with some bears. One of my friends is super bummed cause they've got all the hiking trails closed off. But isn't that crazy?? There might be a murderer out there, right behind where we work." Vanessa wiggled her fingers at Chester. "Ooooh spooky!"

Chester swallowed uncomfortably, nearly choking on their pizza. "Yeah. Crazy." They set the slice down, suddenly loosing their appetite. "Do the ghosts have any gossip to report?"

Vanessa eagerly accepted the topic change, much to Chester's relief. "They do!! From what I hear, Lance got a boyfriend! He came to pick Lance up one night at the end of his shift. I'm told there was a very sweet kiss upon a cheek."

"Good for him," Chester signed. "I think mister Baxter is a decent guy, if he's found someone then I'm glad for him."

Vanessa nodded her agreement. "I wish I could find a special lady. I've been told I come on kinda strong." She sighed and picked at a burnt piece of pizza crust for a moment. "How about you? Got anyone special in your life?"

Chester shook their head. "Besides the difficulties of finding someone who's actually alright with me being ace, I'm far too busy these days. I don't exactly get out much."

"Oh yeah, I couldn't imagine working the night shift all the time like you do, and picking up extra day shifts on top of that! But hey, if you ever feel up to it, maybe sometime we can wingman each other? Hit the town, have some fun at the very least?" Vanessa's eyebrows bounced enticingly as she poked Chester's shoulder.

"That does sound like fun…" Genuinely, Chester would have loved to hang out with Vanessa outside of work. It had been so long since they'd done that sort of thing. It'd been a long time since they'd had a friend. But… this wasn't real. Even if they could leave the plex, Chester wasn't at all who they were pretending to be. Vanessa didn't even know their real name. "I'm sorry, like I said I'm just really busy these days."

"That's alright. If you ever need a break, offer still stands." Vanessa smiled.

Chester and Vanessa went their separate ways once their break was over. Chester didn't have long to mull over the lonely sort of despair they'd brought upon themself before they ran into Rosa.

"Hey, there you are. You done with your break?" Rosa asked. She shifted a thermos from one hand to another so she could pull out her faz-phone. "I need you to take a task for me. Its animatronic repair, but it's a simple one, shouldn't be too much trouble. Lance is off today so I'm covering a few of his duties."

Chester couldn't come up with a good enough excuse to turn the task down. They'd managed to get by so far by cherry picking tasks they could manage, tasks that weren't as horribly consequential as repairing one of the animatronics. If they messed up something like that… Not only would they be at risk of someone figuring out they didn't actually belong here, but there was a chance they'd hurt the bot in question.

"Thanks a million, Chester. You're a life saver. Keep up the good work, kid." Rosa pat Chester's shoulder and took a long swig from her thermos as she carried on past them.

Chester looked down at their phone. They had a new high priority task. With no small amount of dread, Chester dragged their feet down to the access tunnels, making their way to parts and service. They struggled to remember everything they'd read about the animatronics, everything they'd studied and learned about wiring and welding.

Despite their attempts to prolong their arrival at parts and service, Chester found that they'd arrived all too soon. They could have sworn they'd intentionally taken the long way around, but they never could get the hang of these hallways.

The star of the whole plex, the bear mascot himself stood waiting for Chester by the enormous cylindrical machine at the room's center. Just their luck. Freddy Fazbear gave Chester a little wave as they entered the room. Chester noted his other arm hung a little awkwardly at his side.

"Hello… I take it Miss Garcia could not make it?" Freddy asked.

"She says she's covering some things for mister Baxter," Chester explained. They pulled up the task details. Rosa's descriptions were extremely brief, compared to Lance's long winded explanations. "Your right elbow joint seems to have been damaged?"

"That is right. I took a step too close to Chica during our last performance, and… well, Chica gets really into her guitar playing at times," Freddy explained.

"I see." Chester eyed the cylindrical machine. They approached the computer hooked up to it, powering it on and squinting at the complicated command menu. They quickly scanned through the options, finding only a few they understood. One of the commands was 'Run Diagnostic Scan'. Chester selected this. A prompt came up asking for Chester's technician code. They'd memorized their code by now, and plugged it in. Another prompt came up, alerting Chester that there was no animatronic to scan. They looked up at Freddy. "Would you mind stepping inside the cylinder?"

"Of course, superstar." Freddy made his way into the cylinder, walking slowly. He had to duck a little to be sure he didn't bonk his top hat on the top of the doorway. He eyed the cold metal table and the dangling machinery above. "Do you want me to… Do I have to be on the table for this repair?"

Chester paused. They had no idea if it was protocol or something to have the animatronic strapped to the table for repairs. But if Freddy had asked, maybe it wasn't? The scan seemed to be running just fine regardless. Chester eyed the table. They noted Freddy was eying the table as well, his metal brows pinched together in worry.

"No, we should be fine," Chester signed.

"Ah, good." Freddy's expression relaxed. "I find the table rather uncomfortable."

Chester could imagine, though they wondered how an animatronic would even mind the hard surface. The bots had pressure sensors, and proximity sensors, but no way to tell the difference between textures.

When the scan finished, Chester's faz-phone lit up with a very short list of replacement parts, and where to find them. Lucky for them, the joint and socket they needed were here in the room, on one of the shelves. Chester picked these up, comparing barcodes on the shelves to the codes on their phone. Thankfully, the plastic bin of spare joins seemed to have been stored away correctly. They probably had Lance to thank for that, what with how much time he spent down here in the access tunnels.

Chester spotted a power generator against the wall, right by the bin of joints. Chester noted the generator in their head for later. They weren't sure how they'd get it all the way up to the daycare, but they figured they could puzzle that out when they came to it.

Parts in hand, Chester stepped into the cylinder with Freddy. They set the parts on the unoccupied table.

"Can I see your arm, please?" Chester asked.

Freddy held out his damaged limb to them, even angling it so they could get at the screws holding the metal panels in place. Chester took in a deep breath and got to work removing the panel concealing the elbow joint.

Once the panel was off, Chester stared at the joint for a long moment. They realized with a start that they actually knew what they were looking at. They could picture Freddy's diagram in their head, they knew what the joint was meant to look like, they knew how it connected to the sockets, they knew how the sockets were bolted in place. None of the wiring had been damaged, but even if it had, Chester realized that they knew how the wiring connected as well. With a sense of cautious relief, they took out their tools and got to work disconnecting the top socket.

"Here, if you could place your arm over the table, I'll stand on the other side. That way the arm won't just fall once I've got the socket off," Chester signed.

Freddy complied. He watched Chester work as they dismantled the joint, leaving his upper arm connected to the lower half by a bundle of wires. Chester got to work connecting the new joint together.

"This doesn't… hurt, does it? Your arm being like this?" Chester asked.

"Not at all, superstar. I do appreciate how gentle you are," Freddy said. "None of the wires are damaged, right? Wire reconnection is far more uncomfortable."

"You're in luck, the wiring is fine," Chester assured.

"Oh, good!"

Chester glanced up at Freddy. He seemed far more relaxed now than he had earlier. His expression was set into a neutral smile and he was standing straight, though he was bent slightly over the table. Chester wondered briefly if it was strange for him to be in parts and service, where he was surrounded by storage shelves full of, essentially, replacement body parts.

Chester's curiosity pressed at the edges of their brain, questions bouncing around like the worlds worst game of ping pong. "Pardon me if this is rude or upsetting to ask, but… what is pain like for you?"

"I do not experience it very often. Sometimes the way my programming runs feels… disagreeable. Forgive me, it is not easy for me to describe. I have been told pain for humans often depends on what is causing the pain. I believe that much is true for me as well. Some circumstances are manageable or mitigatable. Wiring, for instance, is more manageable, however uncomfortable. Running power through a new wire is uncomfortable at first, it feels very tight, like squeezing through the head of a needle. It only lasts a moment. Other times…" Freddy paused to collect his thoughts. Chester could hear a small whirring fan kick on in Freddy's head. "Other times there is nothing to be done, the discomfort does not pass easily, and it can be very overwhelming. This usually only occurs when I disagree with a line of code and try to keep it from running, or when I encounter system errors. I have never experienced a headache before, but I imagine the sensation closely resembles a very bad migraine."

"I see." Chester nodded slowly, mulling over this information carefully in their brain. "If I ever cause you pain or discomfort, please let me know and I'll try to fix it."

Freddy smiled. "Thank you, that is very kind of you. I will let you know."

Chester finished connecting the new joint in no time. They had Freddy try it out before screwing the panel back in place.

"You've done a fantastic job, superstar! Thank you." Freddy pat Chester's shoulder, beaming down at them happily.

"No problem, just… doing my job." Chester forced a small smile.

Freddy had a birthday party to get to, and so he waved goodbye before making his way out of parts and service. Chester disposed of the damaged parts and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. They'd actually done it. It hadn't even been difficult. Still, with any luck, they wouldn't have to do another animatronic repair task for a good long while.

~~~

"Hey Sun!" Chester called out verbally, since their hands were full. They heaved the bulky metal monstrosity in past the daycare doors. They kicked their shoes off as they made it inside. "I finally found a generator!! And I think it shouldn't be too hard to hook it up to the lights!"

"OH?!" Sun came bounding up. "Oh, oh dear. Oh. Please don't… ah. Can I carry this for you??" Sun's hands were fluttering around the generator's frame. His gaze was fixed on the wheels, where they were catching and pulling at the padded floor and starting to leave marks.

"If you don't mind," Chester signed, stepping back. Not only was it extremely heavy, but the generator's shitty little wheels were proving to be a huge pain to maneuver over the cushioned floor anyways.

Sun eagerly grabbed the generator by the bottom edges. He straightened without so much as a fraction of hesitance, like he was lifting a box of feathers. He turned and walked off at normal pace with it, leaving a stunned Chester rooted to the spot.

"Are you coming? I don't think I can hook this up by myself," Sun called, realizing Chester wasn't behind him.

"Right!" Chester shook it off and hurried after Sun. "You're really cool, you know that?"

Sun's faceplate spun happily. "Why thank you, friend! What brought this on?" Sun maneuvered the generator, balancing it against his hip and holding it one handed as he tapped the code into the panel and opened the door to the spiral staircase.

"Jeez," Chester breathed. They followed Sun through the door, closing it behind them. "You're carrying that generator like its nothing. The thing weighs twice as much as I do."

Sun looked down at the generator, pausing halfway up the stairs. He suddenly feigned straining with it, lowering it and hunkering over it, arms rattling. He took a massive exaggerated step. "ARGHHH! HRGHHHH! GRAHHHHH!" He continued like this the rest of the way up the steps. When he got to the top, he set the generator down and threw himself over it dramatically. "PHEW!!!" He wiped imaginary sweat from his brow, then looked at Chester. "How was that?"

Chester was too busy laughing to reply. They gripped the railing on the stairs tightly, feeling a little light headed. They got their giggling under control. "That was much better, thank you."

Sun pushed the generator into the room, parking it by the wall with the electrical box. Chester got out a screwdriver and began removing the back panel of the electrical box.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Sun asked, peering over Chester's shoulder as they set the panel aside and got to work.

"No more than a few minutes, I think. I did some reading, it shouldn't be too much trouble. Right now I'm installing the interlock kit to the panel. Then I need to install the power inlet box, then start wiring the connections. Then I just install the circuit breaker and put the panel back on," Chester recited the steps they'd learned.

"Mmhmm. Yes, yes." Sun nodded along. "Very good. Yes."

Chester smiled. "Do you want to help?"

"Sure!!" Sun bounced up and down.

"You can hold these little panel screws for me, if you like," Chester offered, sweeping the little collection of screws off the rim of the electrical box, where they'd been perched precariously. They held the handful out to Sun.

"On it, boss!" Sun very carefully cupped the screws in his hands. He stared at them dutifully, making sure they didn't run off anywhere.

Chester was making good progress. They glanced back at Sun, who was still staring down at the screws. Chester smiled at him. Sun noticed the attention and tilted his faceplate up to Chester.

"What's that smile for?" Sun's faceplate tilted a few degrees in curiosity.

"Oh, nothing. You're just cute is all," Chester said.

"Cute??" Sun jolted.

Chester froze, embarrassment shooting through them. Did I seriously just said that-?! "I mean-!" Chester jerked their hands away to sign. They weren't looking, their hand pulling or hitting something, they couldn't tell. The electrical shock was more than a little distracting.

Chester yelped and fell back on their ass. All at once they could see trees, rain, the shape of the plex from the top of the hill, its neon sign glowing through the haze. Chester blinked, shaking off the images and the shock. Their heart was pounding uncomfortably.

For a moment, Chester panicked as their vision didn't seem to want to come back to them. They blinked rapidly, the dread setting in for only a moment before realization calmed them- the lights had just gone out. Chester's eyes were adjusting, they could see the electrical box in front of them and the shape of the generator next to them.

"Sun?" Chester called out. They felt along the ground behind them, where Sun had been. Their hand met a collection of tiny screws scattered on the ground. The dread came back.

Was Sun freaking out about the lights? Where was he?? Chester fumbled along their belt until they found the flashlight they were now glad they'd taken from the employee stock room. They clicked it on, wincing at the sudden sharp white light. They swept the beam across the room. The room was empty, though Chester noted the curtain had been thrown open. They hurried out onto the balcony and peered down at the daycare below. They swept the beam over the ball pit, but everything was still.

"Sun?! Where are you??" Chester took the stairs down, planning to scour the daycare and make sure Sun was alright. They took two steps beyond the door before freezing to the spot.

Red eyes were fixed on them from the other end of the daycare.

"You." Chester stared wide eyed at the animatronic, cast in shadows beyond the reach of their flashlight. This was the same animatronic they'd met on their first night shift, the one who'd given them a concussion before promptly and totally vanishing. Chester stood stock still, waiting for the animatronic to move.

The animatronic did move, but they turned away from Chester. They turned back to the wall they were standing next to, frantically tapping away at something there. Chester risked a few steps closer, holding their beam higher. The animatronic seemed to be tapping at a light switch. Chester panicked for a moment as a thought occurred to them- what if they'd just short circuited the whole building??

Chester went to the nearest window, then breathed a sigh of relief. They could see low neon lighting in the waiting area outside from a sign on a wall, and from an ATM machine by the check in desk. So they'd just knocked out the daycare's lights, then. Chester turned from the window, focusing on the task at hand. The animatronic hadn't attacked them or threatened to detain them, so he still remembered Chester's employee profile. Either that or he wasn't currently in security mode. Whatever the case, Chester still needed to find Sun.

"Sun! Where'd you go?" Chester called out, struggling to project. They swept their light back and forth over play structures and stacks of toys. They paused, noticing the red eyed animatronic watching them. They breathed, trying to reign in their apprehension. They signed with one hand, flashlight in the other. "Did you see where Sun went?"

The animatronics' eyes shifted in the dark. It took a second for Chester to realize, but the bot had tilted his head, much like how Sun tilted his faceplate when he was confused or curious.

Chester was having a hard time not feeling unnerved with the way the bot was just staring at them. "…You're not gonna bash my skull in again, are you?" They tried a light laugh.

The red eyes lowered. Chester squinted through the darkness, not willing to get too much closer, even to put the bot in the light. It looked like he'd crouched down to the ground.

"…Sorry."

Chester paused. They hadn't been expecting the bot to apologize. "Oh. That's alright. All is forgiven. Just uh, don't do it again. Okay?"

The bot didn't reply, and Chester was too far to make out any sort of expression. They pushed their fear aside to take a few steps closer, still watching the bot carefully.

"How come you aren't around often?" Chester asked.

The bot watched Chester just as carefully as they watched him. "…I'm only here when the lights are out." He spoke in quiet, gentle tones.

Chester took another step, slowly but surely closing the distance. "What, like a vampire?"

The bot mimicked the sign, tapping two fingers in a 'V' shape to his neck. "Sort of." He sounded amused by this.

Another step closer, and he was almost in the light. This time, he moved back away from the light. "…You don't like the light," Chester realized. They glanced down at their flashlight, then back up at the animatronic, who's gaze never wavered from them for a moment. Chester took in a breath and held it. They clicked the light off.

For a moment, all Chester could see in the sudden darkness was two red pinprick lights a ways ahead of them. They stood stock still, waiting. Waiting for their eyes to adjust, waiting to see if the bot moved. The bot was just as still as they were.

Once Chester's eyes adjusted enough to make out shapes around them, they started to relax. They slipped the flashlight back into their toolbelt.

"You can see in the dark, right?" Chester signed.

"Yes," came the bot's hushed voice. "You cannot."

"That's correct."

"…Why did you turn your light off?" the bot asked.

"It bothered you. Just trying to keep on your good side." Chester smiled, hoping to convey they weren't being too serious. "Listen… I'm looking for my friend Sun. I'm not sure where he's gone, but he can't be far. He can't really leave the daycare. Since you can see in the dark… would you mind helping me look for him?"

The bot tilted his head again. After a long moment of consideration, he said, "…Sure."

Chester watched the bot stand slowly and turn to study a nearby crawly tube. Chester turned their gaze to the play structure they were standing beside. They tried to think about where Sun could be. If he'd jumped off the balcony in a panic, maybe he'd hurt himself on the landing?? Maybe he was laying broken and unresponsive at the bottom of the ball pit. The thought caused Chester no small amount of distress. They turned their back to the red eyed animatronic and headed for the ball pit.

Chester started wading through plastic balls, trying to feel along and not loose their footing at the same time. They noted the red eyed animatronic watching them from the corner of their eye.

"What's your name?" Chester asked. "I'm… I'm Chester." The name didn't sit quite right with them, but it wasn't like they could go around giving out their real name at this point.

"Moon." The animatronic, Moon, watched Chester carefully.

"Huh. Have you ever met Sun?" Chester asked.

Moon took a moment before responding. He was still watching Chester intently. "…Not in person."

"Oh. Well, he's pretty cool. If we can find him, you could meet him…" Chester rounded back to give the ball pit another pass. No sign of Sun yet.

Moon approached, footsteps cautious, only audible by the jingling bells on his shoes. He stopped by the edge of the ball pit, crouching down to grip the rim of the pit with his hands. Chester took a moment to look him over, realizing he was finally close enough to see.

Moon wore similar pants to Sun's, though his were patterned differently, with star shapes instead of long stripes. He had a lot of ruffles and ribbons like Sun too, though his whole color scheme was much darker. He wore a long nightcap on his head, a little gold bell at the end catching the low light from out in the hall. His circular face was half shadowed, leaving only a crescent shape visible in the dark. He had a stagnant grin like Sun's. 'Moon' seemed to be just as fitting to him as Sun's name was to him.

"Huh. Another clown animatronic," Chester said. They had to wonder what role Moon could possibly play here at the plex. Had he been some sort of prototype for Sun?? Was that why he wasn't usually out touring the plex? Maybe he was meant to be decommissioned or something?

"Jester," Moon corrected.

Chester tilted their head in curiosity.

"Lots of people don't like clowns… think they're scary. Jesters are friendlier," Moon said.

"Oh. I understand." Chester gave up on the ball pit. They huffed and made their way to the edge of the pit, climbing out. Moon took several steps back, keeping his distance. Chester stood a little too quickly and wavered, a bout of dizziness quickly hitting them. They felt their weight shift back a little too far, and took in a sharp hiss of air as their stomach dropped-

There was a small jerk, and suddenly Chester was pulled forwards. They could see Moon standing right next to them, his hand on their tool belt. Chester flinched before they could realize what had happened; Moon had just pulled them forwards by the belt, saving them from crashing back into the ball pit.

Moon leapt back with startling speed, crouching back down to the ground. "Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry."

Chester held up their hands, straightening up and taking a steadying breath. Their heart was pounding. They willed it to settle. "It's okay, thank you for catching me." They took a step away from the pit and cast another look around the daycare. "I really don't know where Sun went… I'm starting to get worried. Listen, I'm gonna try and get the lights working again so I can have an easier time looking for him. Since you don't like the lights, I'm letting you know in advance so you can head out, alright?"

Moon just stared at Chester. He was very still, no chance of gleaning his reaction through body language like Chester had learned to do with Sun.

"I'll see you around?" Chester offered, heading back towards the door to the spiral staircase.

"I'm not sure," Moon said quietly.

"Well, I hope so. I've got some questions for you, next time I see you." Chester reached the door and gave Moon a little wave. "Bye for now."

"Goodnight," Moon replied.

Back in the tower room, Chester made quick work of finishing connecting the generator to the electrical box. They crossed their fingers and activated the generator, flipping the lights back on.

There was a sudden hum that Chester realized just then had been missing. They blinked, suddenly blind in the flood of light around them. It had worked- the lights were on. Chester double checked everything, making sure it was all installed correctly and connected properly. They breathed a sigh of relief and went back out on the balcony.

To their surprise, they spotted Sun standing not far from the ball pit. Had he really fallen in after all and Chester had just missed him??

"Sun!!" Chester called, relieved to see their friend. Sun's gaze snapped up to them, and he waved enthusiastically.

Chester hurried through the door and down the steps. In their rush they tripped down the last few stairs like a dunce, flying forwards with a yelp. They landed very suddenly, but not uncomfortably, against plastic casing and soft fabric ruffles. Sun had caught them, having come through the door to meet them.

"Careful!!" Sun chided. He gently released Chester, keeping a hand on their shoulder to be sure they wouldn't fall right over again.

"I was worried about you!!" Chester lightly swatted Sun's arm. "You really don't like the lights being out, huh?"

"I didn't mean to worry you." Sun's eyes flashed with blue light. "Are you alright?? Are you- did you- did…" Sun relaxed, posture slouching slightly as the blue light clicked off. "You're unharmed."

"I'm alright. I actually sort of made a new friend." Chester recounted their meeting with Moon, and how Moon had helped them search for Sun before Chester had decided to fix the lights. "I guess he's gone now. He doesn't like the lights, apparently."

Sun laughed his uncomfortable strained sort of laugh, like the sound was being dragged out of his voice box. "You met Moon. And you're okay?" That blue light came on again.

"I told you, I'm fine. I think I've got the issue figured out, with you guys getting confused in security mode. Remember when we talked about that?" Chester asked, their hands moving through the signs quickly.

"I remember," Sun said.

"Moon wasn't confused this time. He remembered that I'd showed him a paper copy of my employee form. So there's no issue anymore! I still haven't figured out why the employee files get corrupted every now and then or how to fix it, but now I'm at least confidant in this solution. And I think you were right about the others getting confused because of conflicting messages, missing employee forms and valid nametags. I've been thinking about something Freddy told me recently, about how he sometimes disagrees with how his programming runs, and how it makes him feel uncomfortable, like he's in pain. This is just a hunch, but I think maybe its hard for you guys to cope with how certain programs or errors make you feel. So maybe that’s why…" Chester trailed off. That's why Moon lashed out that night.

"That's why the others get… confused," Sun finished slowly. He wrung his hands together, metal shifting quietly against metal. "Chester… when we say 'confused'…"

Chester willed Sun not to finish his question. He did anyways.

"Moon hurt you, didn't he?" Sun asked quietly.

Chester looked away. They sat down on the stairs, hands folded in their lap while they considered how to reply. They went back and forth in their head- they wanted to tell Sun. They despised lying to him, keeping things from him. At the same time, if word got out and the company filed an incident report with the police, Chester was done for. They looked up at Sun. He was clearly worried, his grin entirely foreign amidst his tensed body language. He was so worried for them. Chester sighed, hoping they wouldn't regret this. "It's extremely important that you don't tell anyone. Okay?"

Sun nodded solemnly.

"Okay. That night, when I made that deal with you so I could stay in your room… Earlier that night, I met Moon for the first time. It… didn't go super great." Chester explained in minor detail how Moon had stuttered through voice lines and chased them down. They told Sun that Moon had been the cause of their head injury, leaving it at that. They explained how they'd finally shown Moon their employee form, and how Moon had seemed to snap out of it before retreating.

Sun's hands were shaking as Chester spoke. He was silent until they were done.

"Chester… I… I'm so sorry," Sun whispered, uncharacteristically quiet. "I'm so, so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Chester said.

"I'm sorry," Sun said again, his voice wavering and edged with static.

"Easy Sun, it's alright," Chester tried to assure. "It wasn't anyone's fault! I don't even hold it against Moon. I'm still sort of scared of him, honestly, but… I don't think he meant to hurt me. It didn't seem like he was fully aware of what was going on through… whatever it was he was going through."

Sun made a soul wrenching whining noise, the sound of it now drenched in static. He folded his arms tightly, trying to stop their shaking.

Chester realized then that he was crying, as much as he could cry without any tears.

"I don't like this," Sun whined. "I don't like it, it hurts, it hurts, I want this to stop."

Chester shot to their feet, stumbling slightly but quickly regaining their footing. They closed the distance between them and Sun and wrapped their arms around him.

"It's okay," Chester whispered, pressing the signs into Sun's back. "It's okay."

Sun's arms hovered over Chester, shaking hard enough to be audible. Then he finally settled his arms around Chester. A shiver rattled its way down his whole frame. He squeezed them tightly, holding onto them like a lifeline.

Chester held Sun until he stopped shaking. When they pulled away, Sun was reluctant to release them, but loosened his arms just enough for Chester to slip away.

"Thank you. That was…" Sun put a hand over his chest, trying to feel for something that wasn't there. "I don't know."

"Sadness. You were sad," Chester offered. "Or at least, whatever the robot equivalent to it is."

Sun considered this. His fingers scraped slowly over plastic plating. "I don't think I like that at all."

Chester nodded. "Yeah, that's a tough one."

Sun focused back in on Chester. "Why didn’t you tell anyone you'd been hurt? Why… Why stay here? After Moon had hurt you?"

"…I can't answer that. I'm sorry." Chester couldn't look at Sun.

"…Okay." Sun reached out and gently took one of Chester's hands. "Chester, I don't want you to be scared of me. The thought of that makes me… feel…" Sun trailed off, his faceplate lowering.

"I'm not scared of you, Sun," Chester assured. They squeezed Sun's hand. They were a little confused as to why Sun would be worried about that. Maybe because he and Moon looked alike?

Sun didn't look up, didn't move for a long moment. He stared at Chester's hand in his. Chester got the feeling he wanted to say something. They waited patiently for him to find the words, understanding full well how difficult it could be at times to find the words.

Finally, Sun settled on a simple, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?? I'm not upset with you."

Sun didn't reply. He released Chester's hand and turned away. "I think I want to stop feeling sad. It's too much, I don't like it."

Chester thought maybe Sun had been trying to apologize for his emotions. "It's alright to feel things, Sun. I know it can be miserable sometimes, but it'll make the things that make you feel good that much more wonderful by comparison." Chester straightened up. "If you want, we can play a game? Put all this behind us?"

Sun nodded eagerly. "Yes, I would like that."

Chester lead the way out of the stairwell and back into the daycare. They chose a game at random from the game shelf and helped Sun set things up.

As the game progressed, Sun started to relax. Chester relaxed by extension, glad to see that Sun was starting to feel better. By the end of the game, Sun was even back to his happier movements, swaying and tapping. Even so, there was a slight hesitance once it was time for them to part ways. Sun had a daycare to prepare, and Chester had a long day to sleep off.

~~~

The next night, Sun seemed to be feeling much better. Sun insisted Chester pick the game once more, again assuring them that he didn't mind any game, he just had fun playing and spending time with Chester. Chester felt much the same way, and so they chose a game at random, though they tried to pick a new game for variety.

Tonight's game was 'Connect Four'. Sun set up the slot tower and divvied out the chips. Chester took the red chips, figuring the yellow chips were more fitting to Sun.

"You really like board games, huh?" Chester asked, starting off the round by dropping a chip into one of the center rows.

"I do!" Sun nodded enthusiastically. "I like all games. So long as everyone is having fun! That's what's most important." Sun dropped his chip one slot to the right of Chester's.

Chester dropped their next chip in the slot to the left of their first. "I would have loved to have a place like this growing up. Seeing these jungle gyms and listening to you play with the kids all day, it just makes me happy knowing the kids have a place like this. You run a really nice little daycare here, Sun."

Sun started bouncing in his seat with enough fervor to bump the table. "Oh gosh!! Thank you so much, that's so kind of you!" Sun laughed. He seemed to realize suddenly that it was his turn, and quickly dropped his next chip, to the left of Chester's last chip. "I try really, really hard to make sure everyone is taken care of and having fun. It's what I was built for! Sometimes it's hard, kids don't get along or they have bad days or get upset or sometimes the parents are mean, but even so, I can't imagine ever wanting to do anything else! When the kids are kind to each other, or when they give me a hug goodbye, or draw something for me, there's this feeling… sometimes feeling things is so hard and overwhelming, but this feeling is so, so nice, it's one of my favorite things! And it's almost never overwhelming, definitely one of the kinder things to my processors. It's like… its like right after a software update that patches up a bug, or right after I finish recharging. Like everything is not only as it should be, but the best it can be!"

"That's really nice." Chester smiled. They turned their chip over a few times in their hands before dropping it on top of Sun's last chip. "I think the kids are all the better for it, too."

"I sure hope so!" Sun continued to bounce and sway, barely managing not to bump the table again. He dropped his next piece, beside the first chip he'd dropped.

Chester could hear bells jingling merrily along Sun's costume as he bounced. It almost sounded like there were bells jingling inside him too, like there were spare bells stowed away somewhere in his casing. Every part of him really was crafted for his position. Chester wondered what that was like, that feeling of fulfillment Sun must have from carrying out the role he was entirely and intentionally made for. They imagined as well what it might be like for him to fear loosing it. Chester felt they understood a bit better why Sun seemed so anxious about the lights- being told the daycare was at risk of being closed down… What was anyone supposed to do if they'd lost their entire life's purpose? What they were literally built for?

"You've been thinking for a while! It's so early in the game to be strategizing that hard. I worry I'm in for a rough time!" Sun laughed lightly.

Chester brought themself out of their thoughts, focusing back on the game. "Sorry, I got distracted." They made their next move, dropping their chip to the right of Sun's last chip.

"Do you like being a technician? Does it feel… what's the human equivalent? Like a full night's rest??" Sun wondered. He made his next move while Chester replied.

"I do, actually. I didn't think I would, when I… started this job. But, as it turns out, I like working with my hands, and seeing something that was broken run again because I fixed it is very rewarding. And there's a satisfaction to marking tasks complete in my little list. It feels… fulfilling. Maybe not to quite the degree that you experience, and maybe not in the same way that you experience it, but there is that sense of fulfillment for me from doing a good job. Or at least, doing my best and having it be enough."

"That's good! So you think you'll stick around then? You like working here, right?" Sun asked.

Chester stared down at their chip, flipping it over and over in their hand while they thought. "I… yeah. I would like to stick around," they admitted. They dropped their chip. They knew they couldn't stick around here, they were only here because they needed a place to lay low for a while. But… there wasn't any harm in not being miserable while they were stuck hiding out here, was there? They hadn't lied to Sun after all, they did want to stick around. Even if they couldn't.

"Good! We can play so many games!!" Sun's rays all popped in and out. His stagnant grin seemed much more genuine. "I really like playing games with you. It's much different than playing with the kids! I love playing games with them too, but you don't seem to mind at all who wins or looses. You just like to play, like I do!"

"Yeah." Chester smiled. "It's just nice to hang out with you, honestly. You're very easy to talk to. And that's coming from someone who doesn't like talking to the point of being selectively mute." Chester laughed.

"Aww, thank you friend! You're very kind." Sun put a hand to his cheek and waved at Chester with the other in a very 'oh, stop it you' sort of way. He dropped his next chip. "How come you don't like talking??"

Chester explained while they thought about their next move. "Well, for me it's really difficult to translate what's going on in my head into spoken word. And there's a lot to consider with tone and implication, I could accidentally say something I don't mean to say by using the wrong tone or messing up what I'm trying to get across badly enough. It's just easier for me with sign. And sometimes I just… I don't know, I just don't feel like speaking, it feels… difficult. It's tough to explain." They played their next move, managing to line up three chips in a row.

Sun quickly blocked the space Chester needed for their fourth with his next move. "I see. Speaking can be hard for me too, sometimes! My coding doesn't like it when I try to use certain tones. I'm supposed to be happy and friendly and upbeat all the time! And I don't mind that, really, I like being friendly, and when I'm happy and silly it makes other people around me happy too! But sometimes I don't feel happy. And when I speak it comes out sort of funny," Sun explained.

Chester could remember hearing static coming through with Sun's voice from time to time. They nodded in understanding. "I see." They dropped another chip.

They played a few more turns in silence. Sun nearly got four in a row, but Chester managed to block him before he could win the game. The board quickly filled with red and yellow tiles. They would both get close to winning without managing to actually seal the deal.

Sun broke the silence first. "What's your favorite thing to do when you're not working?"

Chester thought back, to a time before their life had gotten so complicated. "I really like to take little walks and just… look."

"Look?" Sun tilted his head, faceplate rotating a few degrees.

Chester nodded. "Yeah, I like to look at the world in general. Sometimes I'd take a walk in the woods and find a nice place to sit and just… look at the trees and plants moving in the breeze and watch birds and squirrels. I love looking at the stars, too. I don't know, there's just something nice about just. Existing in the world. Watching it quietly and appreciating it."

"Hmm." Sun hummed thoughtfully. "That sounds very nice."

They played until there were no moves left to make, the game ending in a draw. They tipped the slot tower and played another round. This time Chester won, though they got the sneaking suspicion that Sun had let them win. They played and talked and laughed together until it was time to wrap things up and prepare for the day.

This time, when Chester left to sleep up in Sun's room and wished him good luck for the day, they felt a little sad to say goodbye. They felt silly for the thought, but they couldn't help it. They genuinely enjoyed Sun's company, and despite everything, it seemed the feeling was mutual.

Chester curled up in their makeshift bed, drifting off with ease and sleeping just as easily.

~~~

Chester's dizziness was slowly improving. The headaches they did get were manageable, and the haze clouding their brain was all but gone. Despite their improvements however, they still found themself spacing on certain things.

I'm totally allowed to blame this on the concussion, Chester thought as they fled for their life down the halls of the plex. They'd spaced and forgotten to return their faz-phone to its charger after their shift. They'd been about to settle down for bed when they'd realized, and not wanting to sleep with the employee form in their pocket, had removed it before bed. Naturally, they'd forgotten to put it back in their pocket when they'd left to return the faz-phone. Which was why they were now being chased down dim neon drenched halls by a violent chicken robot.

There was a way out of this, if Chester could just think. They were outpacing Chica by a small margin. She was lighter than most of the other animatronics, but she still had trouble turning corners at top speed. Chester couldn't keep running circles all night, though. They'd get tired. Chica would not.

Chester thought back to a few nights ago, when they and Chica had caught each other both eating things they shouldn't be eating. Chica hadn't said a thing about their missing employee profile then. Of course, Chester's employee form had been on them, then.

Chester found themself back in the food court. They dashed along the outer line of little restaurants, then made a sharp turn down the short staircase and into the main seating area, taking all five steps at once. They fumbled the landing, careening sideways and forwards. Their hands found a trashcan by the side of the stairs, toppling it in an attempt to regain their balance. This didn't work quite as well as they'd hoped, and they ended up sprawled across the tile, their side hitting the leg of a table.

In a panic, they tried to quickly scramble back to their feet. They whacked the top of their head on the underside of the table, falling back on their ass with a cry. The pain was quickly overshadowed by fear, but…

Chester looked up, eyes landing on Chica, who was not currently attempting to murder them. She seemed to have forgotten about Chester entirely, instead focusing on the toppled trashcan. She dropped to her knees and grabbed up in her fist a discarded, mostly eaten slice of pizza from the ground. She eagerly stuffed it in her beak, then feverishly dug through the trash, finding another slice.

Apparently, the urge to eat garbage pizza was even stronger than Chica's urge to put an end to Chester's error causing existence. Chester only sat around contemplating this for a moment before booking it out of there. They passed a staff bot already rolling over to clean up the mess Chica was making- the familiar custodian bot with the blue cap- who stared intently at Chester as they hurried past.

Chester made for the daycare, checking over their shoulder to be sure Chica hadn't lost interest in her garbage. They rounded the corner, putting Chica out of sight. They turned around just in time to catch a flash of green before they walked right into another animatronic.

Monty stood before Chester, perhaps having come to investigate all the ruckus. Chester nearly swore aloud in frustration- they just couldn't catch a break.

"Hey, little guy! Little- are you lost, lost? Runt, hey-" Monty started to stutter through voice lines. He took a heavy step forwards. "You… don't have… valid employee profile." Monty groaned. Several fans had kicked on and were whirring away, desperately trying to cool down something overheating in his head. "Runt… make this stop."

Chester was exhausted. With Chica behind them and Monty in front of them, they tried to think. If certain things could snap them out of their error feedback induced rage, then perhaps there was another way out of this. Chester recalled everything they knew about the gator, which admittedly wasn't much. He was prideful, said 'rock-n-roll' a lot, and loved playing minigolf. That would have to be enough.

"Montgomery, I challenge you to a game of minigolf!" Chester said quickly, speaking as well as signing to be sure Monty understood.

Monty froze. Chester eyed his clawed hands, hovering uncomfortably close to them.

"You're on, runt. No way you can beat me!" Monty said. His voice was edged with static. Rigidly, he turned and started to walk away.

Chester stood still, hoping Monty would just walk off to gator golf and leave them be. No such luck.

When they didn't follow, Monty turned back around. With a static-drenched growl, he snatched the back of their shirt and pulled them along with him. Chester struggled to keep on their feet as Monty practically carried them with him down the hall, past pirate's cove, and through the double doors to gator golf, whacking his tail on the doorframe as he passed.

After stomping past bushy plastic foliage and past a swamp themed shack where people could make their minigolf experience purchases, Monty dropped Chester by one of the golf club dispensers. Chester recalled fixing this particular dispenser not too long ago. They winced when Monty ripped the top off the machine, easily tearing it off like the lid of a pringles can. He grabbed two clubs from inside. He held out the one with the blue handle to Chester, keeping the red handled club for himself.

Chester took it. Monty grabbed some golf balls from inside the machine, then stalked down the faux dirt path to the first hole. He stared at Chester intently.

It seemed their choices were to either play mini golf with Monty, or perish. Given the options at hand, Chester opted to play. They joined Monty and set their ball on the grass carpet. They squinted at the hole, laying in wait in the shadows between two hills. They tried not to think too hard about the absurdity of the situation, and hit the ball with their club. They actually managed to get it close to the hole. Chester realized that, actually, they shouldn't be trying to win. They needed to prolong this game for as long as possible, because as soon as it was over, Monty would be back in security mode.

Monty made his move next. He hit the ball surprisingly lightly. It barely made it halfway down the little field.

As the game went on, Monty would occasionally run a clearly pre-programmed line. These lines were all steeped in static, drawn out and slow as if Monty were struggling to get them out. Or perhaps, trying and failing to keep them in.

Chester noticed that Monty was playing a lot differently than he had the first time they'd played, when the situation hadn't been quite as tense. There was no boasting or bravado, no light jabs at their skills. He was playing with extreme caution, taking his time to get his ball across little wooden bridges, through hollow logs topped with plastic frogs, around clusters of fake reeds.

With a start, Chester realized Monty was doing the same thing they were doing- trying to prolong the game. They remembered how he'd sounded before they'd challenged him to the game, how he'd less stated that they didn't have an employee profile, and more warned them about it. He'd asked Chester to make it stop.

Chester stared at Monty as he barely tapped his golf ball towards the hole, not a foot away. The ball rolled two inches closer at most.

"Beat that, runt!" Monty hissed through the static. "You having fun yet?"

Chester hoped that Monty wasn't still in any pain. They made their shot, purposefully overshooting.

They were only a course away from the final hole when the lights turned on all at once. Monty dropped his club, shoulders sagging in relief. Six in the morning had come at last.

"MAAAN. What a pain!" Monty groaned loudly. "You alright there, runt?"

Chester nodded. They leaned against their golf club and returned the question. "Are you alright?"

Monty waved a clawed hand in the air. "I'm fine. You need to figure out what to do about your employee file if you wanna keep working the night shift. I don't know if you realized but I was pretty close there to doing whatever it took to make the errors stop."

Chester nodded. "I know. I have a paper copy of my profile form, I just didn't have it on me tonight."

"Let me take a look at it soon as you get the chance. And show it to the others too," Monty said.

"I will." Chester held a hand out to Monty. "Good game."

Monty barked a laugh. "Are you kidding? That was the worst game I've ever played!"

"Thanks for not killing me," Chester corrected.

"Sure, kid." Monty shook Chester's hand. "Now get outa here before I change my mind."

Chester smiled and nodded. They made their way out of gator golf, frowning as they passed the golf club dispenser and realizing they might have to be the one to fix it. They heaved a sigh as they left gator golf, trudging at last towards the daycare.

Chester considered telling Lance and Rosa about the error feedback loop the bots would get stuck in. If they were careful about it, they might be able to explain the situation, and also warn them against assigning anyone else to the night shift without first having said employee show the bots a copy of their employee form, all without explaining how exactly Chester knew about the issue, and how they'd originally found out. If the bots could be distracted from this hellish overwhelming error loop by engaging certain other programs, that might be valuable information as well.

They decided to come forward with the information. There wasn't anyone else working the night shift currently, but it likely wouldn't always be that way. Chester didn't want anyone to get hurt, and so they'd have to risk it.

For now though, they desperately wanted to get to sleep. Once they'd taken Monty's advice and shown all the bots their employee profile form, they hoped they'd be sleeping a little easier. With murderous animatronics scratched off their list of things to worry about, Chester dared to hope that things would even start looking up for them.

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