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fourbyfitouts · 2 years ago

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Why Choose A 4WD Fridge Slide for Off-Road Escapades?

There's something undeniably exhilarating about hitting the open road and venturing into the great outdoors. Whether you're embarking on a weekend camping trip or tackling an extended off-road expedition, one thing is for sure: you'll need to keep your food and beverages fresh and accessible.

This is where a 4WD Fridge Slide becomes your ultimate travel companion. Let's dive into why this essential piece of equipment should be at the top of your packing list.

The Freedom of Mobility

Picture this: you're deep in the wilderness, surrounded by breathtaking landscapes, and you find the perfect spot to set up camp. With a traditional cooler, you'd have to unpack and repack it every time you need something.

But with a 4WD Fridge Slide, the process is remarkably convenient. It's like having a portable fridge at your fingertips, ready to slide out at a moment's notice. This means less time digging through ice and more time enjoying the beauty around you.

Efficiency and Organisation

An organised camper is a happy camper. Instead of rummaging through a jumble of items to find what you need, a 4WD Fridge Slide offers a neatly organised solution. You can categorise your supplies, making it easy to access your chilled beverages, fresh produce, and snacks without any hassle.

Plus, the slide is designed to secure your fridge in place, preventing any spills or accidents while you navigate those rugged terrains.

Preserving Your Supplies

Traditional coolers have their limitations. They rely on ice to keep your items cold, which eventually melts and leaves you with soggy food and a waterlogged mess. A 4WD Fridge Slide, on the other hand, operates on a different level.

These innovative slides are designed to accommodate portable fridges and freezers that are specifically engineered to maintain a consistent and adjustable temperature. This means you can enjoy crisp veggies, chilled drinks, and even frozen treats throughout your journey.

Adaptability to Your Needs

One of the best features of a 4WD Fridge Slide is its adaptability. These slides come in various sizes to fit different fridges, and they can be installed in a variety of vehicles. Whether you're driving a rugged 4x4, a camper van, or even a pickup truck, there's likely a 4WD Fridge Slide that's compatible with your setup.

This adaptability ensures that no matter where your off-road adventures take you, your food and drinks will stay securely in place.

Durability for the Long Haul

Off-road escapades can be bumpy rides, quite literally. But worry not, as 4WD Fridge Slides are built to withstand the rigors of the road. Constructed from robust materials like steel or aluminium, these slides are engineered to handle the vibrations, jolts, and bumps that come with off-road terrain.

This means your investment in a quality fridge slide will pay off in the long run, ensuring your supplies stay safe trip after trip.

Easy Installation and Convenience

You might be thinking, "Sounds great, but won't it be a hassle to set up?" Not at all! Many 4WD Fridge Slides are designed with user-friendly installation in mind. With basic tools and a little know-how, you can have your slide up and ready in no time.

Once installed, accessing your fridge becomes a breeze, and you'll wonder how you ever managed without it.

Conclusion

In the world of off-road adventures, preparation is key. A 4WD Fridge Slide is a game-changer that enhances your journey's convenience, organisation, and overall experience. Say goodbye to soggy sandwiches and lukewarm drinks – with a fridge slide, your provisions stay cool, fresh, and within arm's reach.

So, whether you're traversing desert dunes or conquering rocky mountain trails, make sure a 4WD Fridge Slide is an essential part of your off-road arsenal. Your taste buds will thank you!

Remember, a well-equipped adventurer is a happy adventurer, and a 4WD Fridge Slide is your ticket to a cooler, tastier, and more enjoyable journey.

Source - https://fourbyfitoutdrawersystem.blogspot.com/2023/09/why-choose-4wd-fridge-slide-for-off.html

#4x4 drawers #4x4 fridge slide #diy 4x4 drawer systems #4x4 storage drawers #4x4 rear drawers

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foone · 2 months ago

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Imagine there's a robot. Not a android, this thing looks like a CRT with wheels and a little grabby arm.

It's driving around, cleaning up messes and fixing things, and a bunch of humans come up to it. They go "aww, how cute! Let's name it Steve the Robot!" and they put a little stick-on tie on the monitor. "come on Mr Steve, go clean up the cargo deck!" and the robot drives off.

It gets down to a storage room, and carefully removes the tie, placing it in a drawer. It digs through assorted boxes until it finds a unopened package that got lost in the mail system years ago. It opens it up and inside there's a little pink bow. It removes the bow and precisely attaches it to its upper screen bezel. It makes a satisfied beep, and quickly cleans up the mess of the boxes, before resuming its duties recalibrating plasma couplings on the engineering deck.

#Robots #this is not a metaphor #This happened to me

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singhmanvi510 · 4 months ago

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Maximize Storage with Kitchen Accessories in Jaipur

Discover the best kitchen accessories in Jaipur to maximize storage and enhance your kitchen's organization and functionality.

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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 months ago

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Warnings: Yandere/obsession, power dynamics, creep! Dick Grayson, creep!Barbra Gordon, mentions of implied harassment, dark themes.

A/N: Just thinking about how fucked up it'd be living in the Manor with those hunger crazed lions..(aka horny and obsessed young adults) I need to get this drabble off of my chest. I wrote this open enough so that whatever relation you choose to have to the Batfam is your choice.

Bruce's current lover? Poor uni student who was offered to stay at the manor by one of the many batbrats? Adult bat-sis who's at their wits end? That's your business..

and it doesn't matter because the stalking, the constant harassment masked as "affection", the insane power dynamics and fear tactics...it's all enough to drive anyone mad,,and it's made worse by the fact they are constantly treating you like the family's very own Barbie doll. You're pushed and grabbed and expected to go along with any and every fucked up role-play scenario that they've conjured up.

The mansion feels like a dollhouse, you know the kind that's cut in half so all rooms are on display so you can monitor all your dollies at the same time? Yeah, just like that. You feel stripped of any ounce of privacy or security, even in your bedroom (which you've checked hundreds of times for listening devices and cameras...or a very lost Wayne adoptee hiding under your bed) felt invaded.

You could be locked in a tight storage closet and despite being certain that you were completely alone and away from everyone, you still wouldn't be able to shake the eerie feeling that you were still exposed and vulnerable. Somehow you still felt like you were on display for them to monitor like a doll.

The last straw had to be while you were taking a shower. Despite the family's usual degenerative behaviors, there seemed to be a silent rule to not go into your room unless you were away. Probably for plausible deniability that your missed placed items and gut feeling that someone's been tampering around your room is all in your head...since you've never caught anyone in the act.

Regardless you would lock your bedroom doors, windows and the door leading into your bathroom (even at times barricading them) just to prevent any unwanted visitors...

Admittedly though, you did get startled because just a few minutes after stepping into the running water, you started to hear faint noises from outside your door before going silent only moments later.

The sound was muted and ambiguous enough for you not to fully panic. There were many possible and reasonable explanations for what you just heard. The manor was excellently well constructed, yes, but it was still an old building nonetheless. There were times where you could hear things from far away or rattling in the ventilation system that sounded like it was closer to you than it actually was. Not to mention, no home was exempt from an occasional "ghostly haunting".

You continued scrubbing the deliciously scented shampoo into your scalp and blocked out any worries that tried to anxiously crawl its way into your mind.

As it was time to rise, water ran through out your hair down your body taking all the leftover suds with it.

Suddenly your ears perked up to another sound.

You held your breath for a second to hone in on it to make sure it was just the same one from earlier.

It wasn't.

...there was almost like a sliding sound, close to what a desk drawer would make when you pull it...then what sounded like rustling of clothes, papers, and things on your vanity.

Your heart dropped and your entire body went into a catatonic like state. There's no way someone was actually in your room right now. There seriously couldn't be, your doors were securely locked. You knew it, your constant paranoia caused you to triple check them and then once more for good measure. And out of all the times, why did they choose the one you were completely nude and defenseless? Was this planned? Some sick kind of power play? Did they know you'd be far too petrified to storm out of that bathroom with only a skimpy towel wrapped loosely around your chest and half-empty shampoo bottle to confront them with?

If you didn't think that the feeling of being vulnerably exposed could become all the more suffocating, you were greatly mistaken. Whoever it was that's rummaging through your room and taking full advantage of your helplessness , hit a new all time low.

Fortunately they stayed relatively distant from the bathroom for a while. It didn't appear that they had any interest in whatever you were doing in the bathroom, only to find whatever they were searching for..then leave out before you were done.

The identity of the perpetrator was still unbeknownst to you before they started inaudibly whispering. Well,,more like low talking than whispering, they didn't care enough to fully prevent their voice from being heard by you,,, The voice was feminine yet had a sense of authority...? irritation....? It wasn't exactly clear but the tone was reminiscent of a teacher demanding a student to do,,,or rather not to do something..

It had to be Babs..or..maybe it was Cass?..You weren't positive as when they were both upset, their voice was kind of similar.

The movement of things presumably being displaced or stolen stopped and another voice spoke back to the other. This one sounded masculine with a hint of immaturity in their voice.

Each minute that passed, their voices became louder and louder, clearly an aggravated disagreement had broken out.

The intensity of the atmosphere from your bedroom, seeped through the cracks of the door and flooded the bathroom.. You listened intently trying to get any ounce of clarity as to what they could've possibly been upset over.. If the circumstances had been different, you might've laughed at the absurdity of them fighting over one of your socks or a used tissue..

Even with their voices becoming increasingly louder, and all the more heated...it stayed mostly inaudible, no thanks to the running water and your unstable state that made it a bit harder to process what was really going on..

The only thing you could make out were a few words but nothing that made sense when you tried piecing them together.

The room eventually fell silent again..only for a beat. You thought maybe they'd come to terms with whatever it was that riled them until the masculine voice spoke up again..

This time you could understand him clearly as his voice was all of a sudden alarmingly close to the bathroom door..

"...It's fine..a little peak is fine..."

I don't even need to explain the amount of sheer horror that swept through your body and caused your heart to pound. The two voices were bickering about whether they should open the door to your bathroom or not.. You knew the people that you lived with well enough to know that they were notorious for pushing boundaries and then some just to see what they could extort out of you..but this??

Being only seconds away from being violated,,,possibly traumatized as well for a cherry on top was more than enough to sink a pit in your stomach.. You recognized the voice to be Dick's, and even though all the people you lived with were all just as creepy, he was a different level of disgusting. The only one who says weird things, while doing even wilder things, all with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. The patterned shower curtain wasn't enough to protect you from him them.. getting a peak would mean pushing past the curtain..and pushing past the curtain would turn into...

fuck. You needed to do something, anything to try and protect yourself but your body couldn't move..

The door knob started being fiddled with. Turning and pulling, Dick was trying to see if the door might've been unlocked.

"Shit. Where did you put that lock pick at?"

The irony.

"Come on, maybe this is going a bit far.." Barbra spoke with

Scoffing would be an under-reaction to that statement.

You didn't need to see him to know the desperation Dick exuded when he finally found the lock pick. The sound of it being shoved into the door pierced through your chest and struck your spine. The hairs on your body stood pin straight, and goosebumps cascaded down your entire body tightening your skin..

"Didn't you say you wanted to do this before? This is our chance."

"Yeah...."

"But...? Aren't you just a little bit curious...? We're just looking. Nothing more..we're not going to touch her.." It was unnerving the way he said those last lines..almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than Barbra.

Tears started to swell your eyes as they both got closer to opening the door and laying their eyes on the lewd sight in front of them..eagerly you kept trying to snap yourself out of it's shocked state. Even the water's warmth had turned into a chilling temperature.. in only something you could describe as the house's cynical way at confirming your impending doom... but the only movement you managed to accomplish was to violently shake..

come, on..move..

your towel is right there, just grab it.

please,,,just fucking move.

Dick had finished cracking the lock and his hand grabbed onto the door handle and twisted it slightly...

"....we just..we need to plan this out better. It's too risky, with Bruce being home. We can't manipulate our way out of this one, not after what was found on Tim's computer..."

There was a long pause before an exasperated sigh was let out.

"..."

"..fine...we'll wait until B takes his trip.." His words gritted out like venom behind his teeth, he meant what he said.

No words were exchanged after that but you could still sense their presence. Dick kept his hand tightly wrapped around the door knob, doing everything in his power not to go through with his desires at the moment. And as much as Babs played the devil's advocate, for a moment, she wanted him to open that door too..

You weren't sure how long they were still standing there in silence, debating their actions before they finally left, you were long disassociated by then.

They were gone but not the damage that they caused. You've never felt so disgusted and dehumanized in your entire life. You weren't a human being to them only a doll. They're far more concerned with Bruce's judgment than your dignity. They couldn't care less that you know that they are going to try to violate you again, and exactly when...Bruce doesn't believe hearsay..and the thought of having to see their faces after this made your blood boil.

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bitchface24-7 · 1 month ago

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Do you still do Yandere Viktor or Yandere Jayce? Could you make a dark story about these boys, plss... I don't see much dark fanfic about them

WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you don't realize how obsessed they are with you. How possessive they are. It isn't until it’s staring you in the face do you realize how depraved your two friends are, and you're kinda into it.

warnings: yandere J and V, kleptomaniac J and V, stalking, thoughts of non-con somnophilia, a touch of non-con somnophilia, dirty fantasies, low-key oblivious R, getting Eiffel towered at the end, Grammarly as me beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. … don't judge me. I did say I'm one of the writers y'all should come to if you want taboo topics done, I'm letting my freak out ok? Ok. Hope y'all enjoy it! ❤️

You've known these two men for quite some time now.

You met Jayce first. You two shared a few classes at the academy and even partnered up a few times for partnered projects. He's sweet, kind, funny, and a teensy bit naive. He's so focused on assignments, studying, and his personal project, that he doesn't see the swath of men and women wanting to get into his pants.

A lot of your classmates and even some of the professors can't stand you. Because if Jayce's work doesn't have his attention— you do. They want the delectability of Jayce Talis all for themselves, instead he's giving it all to you.

(And eventually Viktor.)

You stayed in Jayces dorm room more often than your own. Eventually, you just kinda… moved in unintentionally.

Both your clothes shared a closet and a dresser, your fragrances joined Jayces, your toothbrushes sat in the same cup together. It was domestic.

You started to notice some of your underwear going missing. But you thought nothing of it. Shit goes missing all the time, the dryer once ate one of Jayce's vests. Your undies are no match.

(What you don't know is that Jayce has them in a box hidden away in his under-the-bed storage system. The same drawers you have on your side of the bed. When he gets the chance— the very few chances he gets, he fucks his cock into your undies. His tight grip caused delicious moans to escape his plump lips. He envisions what you'd look like wearing them, and cums when he envisions you taking them off shyly and spreading your legs. Your sex dripping with its arousal.)

Everything was going well, until the apartment blew up, Jayce went on trial, defended his project and you vigorously, and at the end of it all— lost his research and wasn't banished.

The breath of relief that escaped you was monumental. Then everything else became a blur. You met Heimerdinger’s Assistant Viktor, you broke into his office, you proved Hextexh could work.

Viktor became Jayce’s second partner after that.

And you officially joined the scandal that caused all this mess.

T’was the start of a wonderful friendship!

(full of depravity, thievery, and lust)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce and Viktor work hard, constantly to improve Hextech and to improve the lives of both the citizens of Piltover and Zaun.

You make sure that they also take care of themselves.

You help out in any way you can.

Bouncing ideas off one another, being a second pair of eyes to an equation, ensuring they take time off to eat and sleep. Their shining light in a neverending cloud of darkness.

Jayce has a relatively good sleep schedule.

Viktor's is horrendous.

So much so that you bought a good quality bed hidden away in an alcove of the lab, and a few futons to rest on. Viktor is too determined to continue working. He won’t stop to leave to go back to his tiny apartment for a few hours of sleep.

There have been too many times you've caught him passed out at his desk for you to allow this to keep happening.

So you bargained.

He can stay in the lab as long as he wants, but he needs to get at LEAST six hours of sleep per night.

He fought, he fought hard until you said now everyone has the opportunity to stay overnight at the lab if they get too tired. That working when exhausted leads to more mistakes and injuries. Being able to take a small nap can rejuvenate the mind and get you to solve that mind-numbing problem you couldn't before.

When you added in the puppy dog eyes regarding Viktor’s health… he folded like a wet piece of tissue paper.

(it also helps he gets to see you in pyjamas, all messy and purely you. How you toss and turn at night, how your hair gets all fucked up in the morning because of it. How delicious you are, served on a silver platter without realizing it. Viktor’s been tempted to touch you. When he's still up working and he sees you passed out on the bed. How soft would your skin be? How plump? Are your lips always that tempting? Your legs are devilish, your back desirable, your ass biteable, and your chest begs him to fondle it.

He does. One night he does. He fondles it as lightly as he can. Tweaking your nipples until they're rock hard, a shiver and mewl escaping your lips. He sees you wiggle a bit in your sleep, your thighs clenched together as he continues his assault. When he spots the wet patch on your pyjamas; it's over for him. He quickly whips his dick out and rubs one out. His one free hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, eventually hitting your wet spot. When you moan loudly— a mix of his and Jayces name, he cums. It almost hits you in the face. After that, he has a few ideas he wants to pass by Jayce.)

You can't help but smile as you see how close Jayce and Viktor have gotten over the last few months. You've heard rumours about both men, how they can be standoffish. Sometimes a bit impatient when someone doesn't understand what they're explaining.

But they flow together like one unit— it's incredible to see. Besides, they're always sweet to you, so you take all the rumours you hear with a grain of salt.

Especially the dirty ones.

How they are in bed, what their cocks are like, how they sound, their dirty kinks, how they rock their partner's world. The thing is, both of them have taken partners that look strikingly similar to one person.

You.

Your hair and eye colour, your haircut, your height, your body type. They're going after your doppelgangers. Most recently you heard about them taking their partner at the same time.

(you're NOT jealous)

(… you are so jealous)

And you keep losing things! You don't know how much underwear you have left. Also, your favourite fragrance has… changed. You used at least a quarter of the bottle, and you remember denting the cap when you accidentally dropped it.

Now there's a brand new bottle on the vanity you and Jayce share. You remember asking him what happened to your old bottle but he looked so flustered and could barely put a sentence together that you came to a charming conclusion.

Jayce accidentally broke your old one and got you a replacement as an apology.

You can't help but smile at the flustered man and give him a kiss on the cheek for his sweet actions— you swear you heard him whimper.

(the old bottle never broke. It's in the lab hidden away in his desk in a secret compartment. That way he can spray it in the air when you're not around— and he and Viktor can still smell you.)

That night, when Jayce and Viktor stayed late in the lab, you touched yourself to the thought of them. How sweet they are, how handsome, how sexy. They're all yours, and your greedy little heart couldn't be any happier. You don't even attempt to be quiet, knowing you're the only one at home.

What you don't realize is Jayce and Viktor heard the whole thing. Viktor had quite a bad coughing attack so Jayce decided to take him back to his place to get taken care of. They could sleep for a bit and go back to the lab. Your wonton moans completely derailed that train.

And everything comes crashing down one day in a way you never expected.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning as Jayce and Viktor bicker over what to have for breakfast, you accidentally drop your chaptick. Thank god you hadn't opened it yet, but it rolled under the bed on Jayce’s side. Without hesitation, you drop to your knees to get your chapstick— instead you find something else.

A massive box piled high with all your missing undergarments. You stare at the box in shock. You thought they just went missing! The drier ate them! It’s done that before to socks and one time to Jayce's vest! You never even imagined Jayce stealing them.

With a fire in your veins, you go to confront him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That confrontation went horrendously. Jayce felt no shame, Viktor admitted to… appreciating you when you slept in the lab to try to get some heat off of Jayce, that riled you up further, and then Jayce spat out that they both heard you last night touching yourself like a dirty little whore.

That shut you up.

What’s currently shutting you up is Viktor’s cock shoved all the way down your throat as Jayce pounds away at your sensitive hole.

Fuck it feels so good being plugged up on both ends. Jayce grunting and whining as Viktor commands him. His voice low and moans so sweet. You think you’re in your own personalized heaven.

That is until Viktor sets his sights on you again, “You’re not so innocent either. I remember when you left your journal at the lab accidentally. I may have… taken a small peak. Your desires are so perverse my dear. Wanting to sit on Jayce’s face. Have me finger and choke you in the lab. Being tag teamed by the both of us. Then we heard you last night. Panting and moaning out our names, like a slut. So… how’s the real deal compared to your dirty fantasies? I bet you actually liked knowing how desperate we are for you. That Jayce stole your underwear, that I defiled your body as you slept. You moaned so sweetly for me that I almost came on your face.”

Jayce and you both moan loudly at Viktor’s nasty words. The vibrations cause Viktor to hiss through his teeth.

“Viktor… they like that. Holy fuck, they like that a lot. Your words made them clench so fucking hard.”

The smirk Jayce gets in return for those words can only be described as devilish. Before you know it, every dirty thought, fantasy, and kink is said to you.

“I want to litter you with all my marks. My teeth, my bruises, my cum. You're mine. You're Jayce's. You're ours.”

“I want to see what you look like tied up and overstimulated.”

“Jayce has a deep desire to fuck you standing in front of a window. He's droned on and on about it in the lab when you're not there.”

“I want to see you spent, shaking, and crying. One day we'll dedicate a day purely to fuck you.”

You cum, violently. You're shaking, whining, and feel amazing. Jayce cums after you, balls deep inside you as he groans, and Viktor cums last. His balls touch your chin as he shoots his load down your throat.

You're all panting in the king-size bed, spent, and heavily satisfied.

Eventually, you break the silence, “Jayce, what happened to my bottle of,” you gulp a big breath of air, trying to catch your breath, “Eau De Parfum? I assumed you broke it.”

“It's in the lab. We use it every once in a while when we miss you.”

You awe at that, “Creepy, but very sweet.”

“You love us.”

And dammit he's right, you do.

You shouldn't. But you do.

…. send me to horny jail *boNk*

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce arcane #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #arcane smut #arcane x reader smut #jayvik x reader #jayvik x reader smut #viktor smut #jayce smut #banners by cafekitsune #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banner by cafekitsune #yandere!viktor #yandere!jayce

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valtsv · 2 years ago

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Your blog just reminded me of the fact that when I was in 5th grade, I went to a catholic school. When we were cleaning out one of the storage rooms to set up a video game system for after-hours student care, we found a mummified finger in a drawer in a fancy little velvet lined box.

Was a bit of a freaky way to learn that some catholic schools keep the supposed ‘body parts of saints’ on premises, next to dried out whiteboard markers. We thought one of the teachers was a serial killer until our caretaker explained it to us.

god that's so quintessentially catholic school. just keeping a mummified finger in a box in a drawer because it belonged to one of god's very special dead guys.

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papasbaseball · 5 months ago

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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 4

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,559 of 9,949

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

Making myself useful after Emily locks me into the Wizard's apartment proves to be useless. Everything has already been done for the day, all the sheets changed, the floors mopped, and even the baseboards dusted. I look to see if I can possibly organize anything else. All of his drawers and closets are meticulously kept, shirts stiffly starched and socks folded into soft green squares. The comb and brush set are still on the dresser, so I straighten them to be perpendicular to the edge of it. I sigh as I look around the room, finding nothing else to even be fussed over.

I have only ever been in a select few rooms of the apartments – mostly his bedroom and the dining room – and always to complete the same chores every day. There were other people above me in rank who had more access to the full apartment, but I was always so busy every day and so eager to get all of my scrubbing and folding done that I never bothered to seek out what had been off-limits to me. It already unnerved me touching the sheets he slept on, so why would I want to go snooping around? He doesn’t quite frighten me as much as he used to, I think.

The wizard's bedroom has other doors besides the one that Emily had brought me through. To the north, there is the hallway that leads to the servants' stairs and the dining room. Directly attached to the bedroom is a bathroom and another door that I have never opened. I always assumed that it was extra storage space for out-of-season clothes.

When I test the handle for this strange door, I can't help but let out a quiet gasp. It’s a study that is about as big as the bedroom I had originally been locked in, but with a ceiling that is pulled so far up into a spire that I cannot see where the chain starts for the sharp gold geometric chandelier. What the chandelier does illuminate are high walls lined with books. A mahogany desk stands to my right, piled high with papers and more books. I shut the door behind me to get a good look at this new and wonderous place, not wanting the Wizard to sneak up on me.

I roll my eyes thinking about how slinking about like a snake and scaring maids on his staff seemed to be his preferred method of arrival. “Maid”. There is a sadness that I feel as if a chip is carved out of me, the splinter of wood that could be labeled as "maid". I hadn't done anything today to help earn my keep here, and the memory of Emily dirty and sore from a day's work had only deepened this feeling of being lost. The best I could offer up in equal was that my legs and everywhere else still stung slightly from the wax strips that they had ripped off of me. I go to the disorganized papers and books on the desk, glad to have found at least some distraction.

There are red leather-bound account books and papers that have been folded in thirds. Looking around the room, I find no home for them, no filing system readily apparent. I open the drawers and find nowhere to put them in the desk either, just cold and sharp green pens, an inkpot, sealing wax, and paper. What I don't expect to find is a golden locket. I hold the small trinket in the palm of my hand, letting my skin warm the cold metal. Inside, there are incredibly realistic paintings of a woman and a man, washed of any colors. I stare at it trying to place why they look familiar when I hear a door opening.

"They are not due for payment for another 50 days," the Wizard says.

I quickly shut the locket, dropping it back in the drawer and shutting it closed, just in time for him to come through the door. Esmet and a man in a sharp suit that was too short in the waistcoat with his satin top hat in hand are close behind. I flatten myself against the wall of books behind the desk but realize I stick out like a sore thumb with my overexposed skin in the provocative dress. Despite this, none of them seem to pay me any attention, the Wizard sitting down at the desk, shuffling through papers, the two other men taking seats in emerald leather chairs that are dimpled with golden buttons.

"Sir," the man in the suit says, "you have to understand, the Emerald City has been late on their payments for lumber for the past three quarters."

"This… this is not part of the agreement," he says. There is a tone of irritation in his voice that makes me want to run for the door and back into the safety of the boring and already kempt rooms. "Matter of fact, there was no agreement. What more do they need besides money? It gets there when it gets there. I can't help it if the damned country is covered in mountains."

"Undoubtedly, the city would pay them, sir," the strange man says, tugging down his waistcoat, "but as ambassador, I am telling you that the chieftain has ordered no shipments to enter the Emerald City unless payment is made upon arrival."

"This shouldn't be a problem," Esmet says, shifting in his chair. "The Emerald City has more than enough money. We could pay for the shipment fifty times over if they wanted it."

"Oh, we have more than enough money," the Wizard says, waving off the notion. "It just seems to me that I am being strong-armed at my own front door. I don't like being strong-armed at my own front door, do you Mr. Ambassador?"

The man's words tumble out as if they had tied themselves into knots in his mouth. His hands are busy mangling the brim of his hat: flattening it, curling it back up, outright folding it in toward the lining.

The Wizard rises, hands gripping the edge of his desk as he stares the ambassador in the eye. He laughs, and it’s the unnerving one that is a warning before the pounce from the grass. "If I didn't know any better, this distrust... it's like... like the warning sign of a rebellion. It would be an overture to war."

"The chieftain has no want for war, sir," the man laughs nervously. Perhaps he was always sweating, but the chandelier hanging directly over him has illuminated the top of his head that only offers a barren combover in protection. He bears a striking resemblance to an ice sculpture in the market square under the hot sun.

"Oh... Oh no, of course not," the Wizard says. "No, that would be foolish, wouldn't it?" There is that smile on his face, the same one from last night that he had aimed at me. I feel suddenly naked again and look down to see my hands gripping fistfuls of my tulle skirt so tight that I could see the bones of my knuckles. Quickly, I drop the fabric, worrying about damaging it, only to find that my hands have been using it to steady a shake that coursed through them.

"Maybe it would be best if I could go back to the chieftain and explain how things look?" the man said. "We have no want for war."

The Wizard let go of the desk, stalking over to where I stood against the wall. I know the others must hear how my heart pounds against my bare breast out of the fear that somehow he will involve me in this awful conflict. My brain concocts a horrible image of me bound and gagged in exchange for the lumber for the city, shipped off on the back of some dirty horse, never to see my sister again. Instead of seizing me, he winds a finger through a tendril of hair that had come loose from my braids. I force myself to look up at him, hoping that if he can see my eyes he might remember that I am human and spare me.

"I think that would be best," he says, not taking his eyes off of me. Here in the intimacy of our own shadows, his eyes have become so dark and deep that they are almost black. Any fear that had existed moments ago has now vanished as I let myself surrender whatever truths he might supernaturally find in my soul through my own eyes. "But we don't need to do that when we can send a letter by flight." He slowly unwinds his finger from the strand until it kisses the skin of my temple. When he turns from me to address the two men, I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. There is such a storm of emotions within me that I couldn't merely pick one, no more than one could stand outside and pick a singular raindrop in a hurricane. All I know is that I want his eyes back on me.

"You'll be our special guest, Mr. Ambassador," he says. "Please, please, take advantage of our wonderful city. There's so much to do that you could never see all of it." He pulls a golden cord that I hadn't noticed in the corner of the room. The door the Wizard had come through opens and the man I had met last night, the head officer, walks in. "Glafly, would you please take care of our dear ambassador here? He'll be needing a room and help getting around the city. It's been so long since he's visited us and we wouldn't want him getting lost." The way he says "lost" is aimed with precision at Glafly.

Glafly nods, stepping closer to the ambassador's chair. The ambassador rises, the brim of his top hat now fully mangled out of shape. He never takes his nervous eyes off the Wizard but follows after Glafly. The Wizard repays him in kind, watching them leave until the door closes. When it does, he opens the top drawer of his desk and withdraws a gilded green pen, inkpot, and piece of paper. He scrawls something quickly on it and doesn't wait for the ink to dry before creasing it in half. Holding the paper between his middle and index fingers, he says "Esmet, get this to the secretaries, quickly. I want this delivered as soon as possible."

Esmet takes the paper with a quick bow. "Yes, Your Wonderfulness." He leaves through the door that they came in.

Standing alone in the room with him, the silence is unbearable. I ask him, "Is he a prisoner?"

He turns to look at me. "Do you think he is?" he asks.

I pull myself off of the bookshelf, approaching the desk. "He can't leave the city, can he?"

The Wizard offers me the crook of his elbow, and I take it. My heart is leaping trying not to think too much about the similarities between the ambassador's situation and mine. He walks with me to the door that leads back to his bedroom. "I want you to attend dinner tonight with the ambassador. I really think you could… liven up his depressed presence."

"I," I stutter, "I have chores to do." It's a poor excuse given the spotless state of the apartment.

He doesn't say anything, rather humming some strange tune. I think that maybe it sounds like some Lurlinemas carol that I may have sung a long time ago, off-key in the voice of a child, but the lyrics never click. I look up at him – sweet Oz is he tall, I barely come up to his shoulders, my eyes level with his golden eye tie tack – and he seems lost in some pleasant thought as he guides me into the bedroom.

"Your Wonderfulness?" I ask.

He opens the jeweled box on the dresser, the one with the beetles on it, and produces a golden hair comb decorated with pointed emeralds fashioned into delicate flowers. "There is more to be done than just scrubbing floors and washing windows," he says leaning against the dresser. With how tall he is, it's more like sitting. He holds the comb in his lap, a gentle smirk on his face. "Do you know your place?"

My place could be anywhere, but I wish it was next to my sister. It's been more than a week since I last saw her, and I worry that she thinks that I have forgotten her. My place had been sharing a bed with Emily only yesterday. And yet today, in the study... When he stood over me, looking me fully in the eyes... Didn't I want that to be my place too? I pick at the fine tulle of my skirt because the safest thing that I can think to say is what I answer. "No."

He pushes off the dresser, watching me with those dark eyes as he approaches. I watch as the shadows on his face flicker in the light of the fireplace. Holding the golden comb, he removes the pins from my braids and I can hear them carelessly dropping to the floor with soft pings. He unwinds the locks of hair from the ribbon and drops the piece of satin as well, too focused on smoothing out the now loose strands. The comb is cold as he drags the fine metal tines against the side of my scalp, gathering up just enough hair before turning the comb back over, and fastening the hair away from my face.

"Do you know my place?" he asks lowly, admiring his handiwork. He grabs the mirror off the dresser, holding it up to me.

"Why was the ambassador allowed to see you?" I ask, casting my eyes to the floor. I can’t tell if it’s my own promiscuous image or his eyes that I’m avoiding.

He lowers the mirror, tracing the raised golden design on the back of it. "I don't tell everyone who I am. He thinks I'm just some statesman deputized for the Great and Mighty Oz."

"Most people don't know who you are," I say. He stops his tracing of the design, raising his eyes to me.

"The most well-known man in Oz, unknown? You really think so?" he asks.

I take the mirror from his hands, trying to get a good look at myself in the dying sunlight. Dinner would probably be served soon, and one shouldn't refuse an invitation from the master of the house. My reflection is dim, but I can see how my brows have been reshaped at the hands of the stylists, the way my skin seems to glow as if they had dusted off the top layer like an old bookshelf. All thanks to him. "Is this dress suitable for dinner?" I ask.

"Do you want to change?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Not unless you want me to," I say.

He takes the mirror from me, sets it back down, and offers me his arm again. "Maybe later," he says. I hook my arm in his and his deep hum picks up the familiar tune from earlier as we walk down to the dining hall.

#wicked fanfiction #wicked 2024 #the wizard x reader #the wizard fanfiction #wicked 2024 fanfic #jeff goldblum

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hellfiresky · 3 months ago

Text

In the drip of the moment

Summary: In a leaky underworld apartment, you and Fox share cup noodles.

Pairing: Fox x GN!Reader Word count: 2633 Warnings: swearing

Illustration: TCW and Cyberpunk 2077

Crack treated seriously based on a chat with @orangez3st. Thanks for the idea, vod!

--------------------------------

It wasn’t rain. Not really.

But here, on the uppermost floor of your apartment building in Gavas-Eclat, a harsh neighbourhood in Level 3215, the underworld’s so-called "rainy season" might as well be a full-blown monsoon. The pipes in the structures overhead groaned and rattled, letting loose a deluge of runoff that hammered your roof. Leaks sprouted like weeds, dripping incessantly into the buckets and pans scattered around your apartment.

"CYARE!" Fox’s voice rang out from the bedroom. "THIS PART IS LEAKING AGAIN. FUCKING HELL, GRAB A BUCKET!"

You sighed, abandoning your attempt to shuffle another set of towels around the already waterlogged floor. The storage closet offered a lone bucket, battered from years of service. You grabbed it and made your way to Fox, whose patience seemed to be hanging by a thread.

"I told you it was going to get worse!" you called as you walked to the bedroom.

"I didn’t think the whole damn level would spring a leak!" Fox stomped into view, a soggy towel thrown over one shoulder and an empty caf mug dangling from his fingers. Half of his black undershirt was drenched, whilst his trousers were rolled up to his knees. “Please tell me you still have the nice caf. I can’t for the life of me go down to your apartment lobby and buy that shitty vending machine caf. Babe, you know how terrible that stuff is. It’s all sugar.”

“First of all, it’s not a leak - it’s a waterfall,” you corrected, pointing to the stream now pouring from the ceiling. "Don’t think a bucket’s gonna cut it. Second, new beans are in the second-to-right drawer in the kitchen. Grind it yourself.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, cyare? Patch the whole damn underworld?” He shoved the bucket under the latest torrent. “I hate this level. I hate it here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Could be worse. At least this time it’s not raining some gas runoff or—”

“Don’t. Don’t even finish that thought,” he snagged his already-cold caf pot from the counter. “And you’re insane if you think I’m grinding beans in the middle of this fucking waterfall. I should’ve stayed at HQ. At least that place only smells like bantha shit half the time.”

Despite a fresh leak appearing alarmingly close to where he was standing, he poured what little caf remained into his mug, grimacing as he noticed the new wet spot on the ceiling. You were almost certain it was the eighth or ninth cup he’d downed today, but you didn’t have the heart to mention it. Or maybe you just enjoyed watching him spiral into caffeinated madness. “You’re so needy,” you sat on one of the kitchen counters, arguably the driest patch of the room. “Come on, Fox. Where’s that Marshal Commander efficacy? Surely you’ve got a strategy for this.”

“Strategy?” he repeated. “You want a strategy? Here’s my strategy: burn this fucking apartment down and collect the insurance. Problem solved.”

You gasped in horror. “Fox!”

“Oh, come on, like you haven’t thought about it,” he slammed his mug onto the counter with unnecessary force. "Why’d you even pick this shithole anyway? You could’ve at least chosen a level that doesn’t come with its own weather system.”

“It was cheap,” you said with a shrug, opening a jar of biscuits you’d bought from the corner shop run by a nice Ithorian lady in your building. You extended the jar to him, and his eyes lit up as he eagerly grabbed a handful of biscuits. “And I didn’t think my boyfriend would be over here complaining about caf and leaks every other day. Nobody asked you to come down here anyway, cyare.”

Months of dating had made you an expert at reading the man beside you. The way he leaned against the counter, sipping his caf whilst simultaneously munching on at least three biscuits, told you he was no longer upset. Fox was like a tooka, almost. Feed him, give him something to drink, and he’d settle down. It always amused you how much he loathed the Underworld, yet he still made the effort to come down to your apartment every other day. He knew the trek to the surface level was a hassle for you, and though he’d never admit it to you, he cared enough to make it easier. You watched him, an involuntary smile stretched on your face as he stared blankly ahead, a biscuit in one hand and his caf in the other. Just as you found yourself admiring the rare moment of peace, a fresh drip from the ceiling landed squarely on his shoulder. His scowl returned in full force as muttered a string of curses.

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, brushing at the wet spot, “someone’s gotta keep an eye on you before this whole fucking building collapses.”

“Just admit it, babe,” you leaned towards his direction with a playful smirk. “You prefer being down here with me instead of in your sterile private quarters up there. For stars’ sake, the last time I stayed at your place, I thought I woke up in a medbay. Do you even own a single decoration? A plant? A poster? Anything?”

You gave him a light sideways punch to his shoulder, earning a low chuckle from him. It was rare to hear him laugh - most days, he was all work and discipline - but when it happened, it was like seeing the actual sunlight in 3215. “Decorate?” he echoed. “Cyare, I’m a soldier, not a fucking interior designer. What do you expect me to do? String up fairy lights and start collecting throw pillows?”

“Well, a few cushions and maybe a rug wouldn’t kill you. I don’t know, a holo-photo of the boys maybe? Something to make it look like an actual human being lives there.”

He snorted before taking another sip of his caf. “I live there just fine without all that junk. But sure, I’ll pick out a nice floral print just for you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t even like flowers,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. It was cute, really. He knew you hated flowers - they always reminded you of funerals. Instead, in lieu of flowers, Fox had developed a habit of giving you snacks from the Coruscant Guard vending machines. And not just any snacks. It was always the most ridiculous, random thing he could find! Neon-coloured jelly that you swore had some kind of caffeine in it, off-brand dried nerf strips, or those spicy crackers that nobody but him seemed to like. He always acted like it was no big deal, handing them to you every time you went out together or whenever he came down to stay at your place. He’d casually say, “Found this on patrol,” as if he hadn’t gone out of his way to snag them.

You grinned at the thought. “Honestly, I think I’d be more freaked out if you did show up with floral prints. Stick to your weird snacks - make a basket full of them.”

“Like a mini bar situation?” He turned his head towards you.

“Yeah, maybe with some drinks, and fruits, or whatever,” you shrugged as you grabbed a biscuit from the jar. “You could even paint that bedside table of yours red - it’d be a great pop of colour amidst all that sterile white.”

Fox snorted but looked thoughtful as he pushed off the cabinet and stood in front of you, hands resting on the countertop where you were sitting, right beside your thighs. “Funny you mention that. I actually saw a nice cabinet while I was patrolling around Calocour Heights the other day.”

“Oh yeah?” you raised your eyebrows. “What kind?”

“It was one of those, uh… modular things,” he gestured vaguely with one hand, the other still steady on the counter. “Real sleek, real clean. Bright red, with these glossy panels that fit together like a puzzle. The whole thing looked like it belonged in one of those fancy apartments topside - like it could double as art or something. It had compartments for everything! Drinks, snacks, gear, even these little hidden drawers you could lock. Thought it might actually make my quarters look less like a medbay.”

You tilted your head as you tried to picture it. “Huh. Sleek, red, functional, and versatile? Sounds like your soulmate, Fox.”

He lowered his gaze to the floor, chuckling as he shook his head lightly. “Yeah, well, the romance died when I looked at the price tag.”

“How bad?”

“Let’s just say,” he narrowed his eyes, “if I wanted that thing, I’d have to sell my speeder - which is a Republic property, my armour, and maybe half the Guard’s refectory rations for a month. And even then, I’d still be short.” He paused before facing you with a grin. “Or maybe I could sell Grizzer, and face Hound’s wrath.”

You laughed, nearly choking on your biscuit. “For a cabinet? Stars, Fox, that’s next-level.”

“Exactly,” he joined your laughter. “Because what I really need in my life is debt over some shiny red furniture.”

“Shame,” you squeezed his cheeks together. “You’d look good with a fancy cabinet. It’d go great with your style.”

“But if it keeps you from staying down here in this death trap of an apartment, I might actually consider it.” He leaned forward to get closer to you. From this distance, you could catch the bitter scent of caf on his breath. You lifted a hand, fingers tousling his curls as you let out a bright smile. “Oh, so that’s it? You’re secretly hoping to bribe me into moving topside?”

“Bribe? I’d call it... strategic persuasion.” He gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m a tactical genius.”

You laughed as you playfully shoved his shoulder. “That would’ve been a hell of a flex. Commander Fox’s quarters featured in one of those interior design videos on the HoloNet. And the best feature? The overengineered snack holder.” Fox grinned, arms crossed with that smug look you had come to love plastered on his face. “Damn right. ‘State-of-the-art compartments for your snacks and fancy caf beans.’ I’d probably go viral.”

“Oh, for sure,” you joined his sarcasm. “People would flock to see the legendary Commander Fox and his impeccable taste in mid galactic modern design.”

“You’re not wrong. I’ve got fans everywhere.” His grin widened as he added with mock seriousness. “Have you seen those ladies lining up near the Senate Building? They’re all lining up to meet me,”

A belly laugh burst out of you, so sudden and loud you had to clutch your stomach. “Those old ladies?!” you managed between fits of laughter. “You can’t be serious!” Fox crossed his arms. “Dead serious. They’re lining up for me. Every single one of them.”

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, still laughing. “Okay, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s part of that Senate Elder Aid program. The Guard’s been running supply deliveries for the retired citizens in that sector. And who do they see when they open their doors? Me. In uniform. Doing my job.” He closed the distance between you again, lifting his caf cup to your lips. You grabbed the cup and took a sip before answering with a teasing grin, “Let me guess. They’re thrilled to see such a dashing young man handling their deliveries.”

He snorted. “They tell me I remind them of their grandsons - or in some cases, their late husbands. One of them even gave me a pie last week.”

That sets you off again, making you laugh so hard. “Oh, stars, Fox. You’re out here breaking hearts and collecting pies.”

“Hey, don’t laugh. Those pies are no joke,” he opened your fridge and groaned when he saw nothing in it. “One of them had so much jogan spread in it, I swear I saw the Force. It was orgasmic.”

You shook your head as you watched him rummage through your kitchen. It struck you then - this wasn’t the same Fox you’d first met. When you started seeing him many moons ago, you had no idea what to expect. He’d always been grumbly, guarded, the kind of man who carried a lot of baggage on his shoulders and refused to let anyone lighten the load. His brothers had even warned you, “It’ll take a few drinks to get him to crack a smile.” But here he was now, standing in your leaky apartment, cracking jokes about orgasmic pies and cursing at the leaks. This side of him, the side that raided your kitchen cabinets and made jokes about burning down your apartment, felt like a secret he shared only with you. Outside, the relentless sound of dripping water finally eased, and the oppressive atmosphere of the leaks seemed to lift with it. “Fucking finally,” you muttered under your breath.

“Yeah, fucking finally, babe,” Fox agreed, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “Guess we don’t have to burn down your apartment now.” He muttered as he continued raiding your cabinets. “Aha - found it.”

He pulled out two cup noodles, the ones he’d given you last week with a ridiculous backstory about a senator who brought them back from an Outer Rim trip. He tossed one to you before tearing into his own. “You saved these?” he asked in disbelief as he filled the cups with hot water. “I thought you’d have devoured them by now.”

“They’re souvenirs,” you said with a shrug. “Figured I’d save them for a special occasion.”

He chuckled, handing your cup back and settling beside you on the counter. “Well, I’m glad I could be here for the big event.” You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder for a moment. The two of you sat there in the quiet, eating noodles and listening to the last echoes of dripping water fade away. Fox slurped a particularly long noodle, before kissing the top of your head. “I’ll stick to raiding vending machines for you, cyare. Much easier on my wallet.”

“Oh, don’t think this means you’re off the hook. You’re still making me that snack basket.” You elbowed him, and sipped the spicy noodle soup from the flimsi cup.

“Yes, boss.” He signed dramatically at your request.

“You’re such a baby.” You laughed again, resisting the urge to start a food fight. Fox held out his cup noodle above his head like he just received some kind of award for being a decent partner. “And yet, this baby just saved your apartment and provided dinner. I expect proper gratitude, cyare.”

“Gratitude?” you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll think about it. Maybe after you build that basket.”

He let out a soft chuckle, the sound warming you like the noodles you were eating. Both of you would get back to cleaning up soon, hoping the hot water was still working so you could finally take a shower and wash off the day. You thought about dragging him to The Wharf tomorrow for a quick fix for the ceiling leak - he had mentioned it was his off day. Maybe you’d stop by that little diner he liked on Level 4780, grab a plate of fried dumplings, or finally let him show you the vendor that sold the ridiculous milky gummies he kept sneaking into your cabinets.

But you pushed those thoughts aside for now as you turned your attention to him. His serious expression as he ate his cup noodles made you smile. You decided to stay in the moment. The galaxy outside could wait - its noise, its demands, all the things neither of you could control. For now, it was just the two of you, sitting shoulder to shoulder in your leaky kitchen, sharing a moment of peace that, somehow, felt like it was always meant to be.

#star wars #hellfiresky #the clone wars #clone wars fic #one shot #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #my fic #commander fox x reader #star wars one shot #coruscant underworld #commander fox #fluff

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