#Online Car Price Checker

[thebeepaustralia]

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[syoddeye]

meet your match

price x f!reader | 10k | AO3

cw: dubcon, explicit sexual content, praise kink, daddy kink (mentioned), breeding kink, john price wife-hunting/wife at first sight, perfectionist/workaholic/lonely reader, stalking, manipulation

John spots the ad as he punches a pin through his card. 

It’s impossible to miss.

Bright red hearts, pink-and-white checkered borders on glossy paper someone paid extra to print. A heart-shaped tack centered perfectly along the top edge. Big looping letters—MEET YOUR MATCH SPEED DATING.

It looks absurd next to his card. A dull rectangle of plain cardstock, his name printed in clean, unembellished letters, ‘John Price - Handyman’, and his number below. No bright colors, no flourishes. Simple like the work. Honest. Keeps his hands occupied between deployments.

The disgust arrives on a delay, a spark traveling along powder. A twist in his gut, a curl of his lip. His eyes rolling hard in his skull. It’s an affront—not just to him, but to the very idea of how things are supposed to go.

He yanks a trolley free, muttering under his breath.

Who in their right mind would waste time like that? Spinning around, talking to strangers, volleying shallow questions, forcing laughter. Acting like most people don’t make up their minds in the first thirty seconds about whether or not they want someone in their bed.

The whole affair reeks.

He shoulder-checks another man in power tools, too distracted by the voices of his sergeants drifting uninvited through his head, summoned by all his grousing.

Stubborn, cantankerous Price. Twice-divorced, stuck in a year-long dry spell because he’s got a habit of scaring off any decent woman who strays into his orbit. The mean old bastard who always moans about the good ol’ days—when men met women face-to-face, not through some app where you swiped left or right like you were picking out a meal deal.

When he could pick them up right off the street, like the first Mrs. Price. Or the supermarket, like her successor.

The memories leave a bittersweet taste. An ache in his groin. It’s been a minute since he took a girl home. Since he tried.

Through the shelves, the poster shines like a fucking beacon.

He breathes sharply through his nose, shakes it off, and shoves deeper into the store.

He never should’ve looked at the bloody thing.

Four fingers’ worth of amber sloshing around in his belly, he swallows the burn of embarrassment with another glass. Lets it dull his better judgment. The tips of his ears red hot as he punches his bank card into the online checkout, grumbling some half-formed excuse to himself. 

The confirmation email arrives in seconds. He ignores it.

He spends the week installing cabinetry, letting the scream of a circular saw drown out his thoughts. Shovels dirt over it when he lays a garden path for a neighbor one afternoon, determined to bury it one stone at a time. Tamping it down along with the dirt, out of sight, out of mind.

But then the reminder lands in his inbox, bright and cheery. Evidence of his lapse in judgment. His mood sours, dragging him into the muck like a boot caught in deep, clinging mud. He knows he ought to ignore it again, chalk it up to a stupid mistake, but—

An itch flares on the back of his ring finger. He scratches it raw, but there’s no relief.

On the night of, he drives white-knuckled to the next town over, pulling into the car park twenty minutes early. He leans against his door, cigar in hand, smoke curling into the cold air as others arrive.

Most of them come in groups, chattering and laughing, familiar. He jumps from one face to the next, cataloging. His finger rests on an invisible trigger, caught between decisions—go in and see what the fuss is about, or make a quick retreat, head home, and catch some pretty face’s stream instead.

Then, a small cluster of girls passes by, giggling behind manicured hands, casting sidelong glances that scream daddy issues. He exhales a ribbon of smoke, watching over the glowing cherry of his cigar.

Whether or not he, by some miracle, finds a match tonight, there’s always the potential for a consolation prize.

As soon as he slaps a name tag onto his chest and scans the crowd, it’s obvious—he’s one of the older men present. Hell, scratch that, he might be the oldest by a fair stretch.

The younger bucks don’t spare him a second glance, too busy puffing out their chests, checking the competition among themselves. The women, though, they’re more forgiving. A few give him passing looks, flickers of intrigue as they clock him standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching.

John knows what he looks like. North of forty, gray threading through his temples, a soft layer of fat settling over the muscle beneath. Dressed sensibly, nothing flashy. Not like the men peacocking around in too-tight shirts, drowning themselves in cologne, preening. He’s here, and that’s about the extent of his effort.

And then the first round begins. He sits across from the first girl, and the second her eyes widen—not in the way he’d like—he knows exactly what kind of night this is going to be.

It proceeds as expected.

The fascination with his years, the curiosity. What’s a man like you doing at something like this? The inevitable prying. Married before? Twice? Oh, well, then. Or worse, the giddy birds, buzzing in their seats with smiles that say, yes, he is the answer to some life-long wound, a stand-in for the attention they never got from their fathers. 

Then there are the unbearably shy ones, pulling teeth just to get a full sentence out before the round is called. Good girls. Decent girls. Girls who stare at him as if he’s about to vault the table and sink his teeth into their throats.

Which is absurd.

He’s a war dog. He prefers a bit of fight. Skin in the game. Make it worth his while, tucker him out.

By the end of it, his card is full, but he’s unimpressed.

His knees and back ache from all the repetitious standing and sitting, moving from seat to seat like some wind-up toy. His jaw is sore from clenching, his temples pulsing from two hours of forced patience. Hands itching for a smoke. It’s nothing like sitting and waiting for a clean shot. That always results in at least a job well done. A mission accomplished. This? A lousy scorecard and a couple of numbers he won’t call from girls who don’t have a clue what they’re looking for?

He’s out of his fucking mind for even bothering.

It’s demeaning.

The organizer flicks on the mic, sending a screech of feedback through the speakers, and he rips the name tag from his chest, teeth grinding. He didn’t listen the first time—only a fucking moron would need the rules explained twice. He’s already angling toward the door, ready to make his exit, when he sees you.

The evening turns on its head.

The last hour wiped clean with a look.

Bright red hearts dangle from your ears. A matching necklace rests at the hollow of your throat. A pink-and-white checkered clipboard sits on your hip, a matching pen twirling absently in your fingers. Chipped crimson varnish on your thumb, like you’ve been peeling it off. Chewing, maybe. 

Glittery boots lend you height. Shoulders squared, posture straight. Doing your best to exude confidence.

Candyfloss sweet, with a pinch of salt.

You prattle on. Platitudes, mostly. How engaged everyone looked in their conversations, a playful quip about how some already seem like goddamn lovebirds. Your voice lilts with charm, a smidge warbly. You must’ve given this speech a hundred times before. Then comes the boasting.

Your agency’s success rate. The numbers, the percentages. How many second and third dates attendees report back. How you’ve helped introduce hundreds of couples. There’s pride in it. Your eyes brighten. But it’s a veneer. Thin as lace.

He sees it. The beads of sweat gathering at your hairline, the faint sheen behind your ear, the subtle tremor in your voice when you get too caught up in your own enthusiasm. A broken-off giggle. The occasional tap of your fingers against the edge of that clipboard, a tic, a tell. You’ve got the confidence, but it’s over-rehearsed. As much of an accessory as the ornament wrapped around your neck.

And he can’t help but wonder.

What would you do if someone called your bluff? If he found you after? Stepped in close, trapped you against one of those god awful stiff-backed chairs, close enough that you felt the weight of him hovering? What would you do if he gave you his honest opinion about your ‘work’, face-to-face?

His mind spins on it for half a second before you say something that derails him completely.

Babies.

It lands like a stone dropped in a pond. Ripples outward in nervous laughter, uncertain shuffling. The younger attendees shift on their feet, casting shy, uncertain glances at each other. You fumble through it, quick and awkward, as if you’ve only realized the present demographics aren’t quite ready for the stork.

He hopes it’s an exaggeration. An offhand comment, a bone tossed out for the older guests in the room.

(Him, because who else fits the bill?)

His blood runs hot at that.

Something stirs in his gut, rising insistent and uncoiling in his chest. A want he thought he’d discounted out years ago, snuffed like a match between his fingers. Delayed by his climb through the ranks and waylaid by fizzling romance.

Children. 

Can one ever really bury an instinct like that deep enough?

His own father soured him on the notion—spiteful, unforgiving, malignant tumor of a man. Impossible standards, an intolerance to match. A rage John inherited, honed, funneled into the one bloody release he found in service. An ugliness that made him swear off continuing the line. 

Still, something funny holds him back. That itch.

He’s canceled every vasectomy he’s ever scheduled in the last decade. Reversible or not, it’s intoxicating to know what he’s capable of.

With you wandering into the crosshairs, it clicks into place. He understands.

He swallows, jaw clenching, and forces himself to look at your face instead of the hollow of your throat, where that ridiculous necklace rests. Forces himself to focus on what you’re saying instead of the shape of your mouth as you say it.

A-ffirmed. He’s out of his fucking mind for coming here.

He tells himself he won’t hunt you down afterward.

No. You’re insulated. Shielded by a flock of hens who swarm the second you return the microphone back to its stand, all clucking approval, dishing out compliments, asking their inane questions about your services. You nod, smile, say your thanks, gracious and warm, and it’s exactly the excuse he needs to leave.

He should leave.

Instead, he declines to give your colleague his scorecard, stuffing the useless sheet into his pocket without so much as a second look-over. He chews the inside of his cheek, locked on you. Takes what he tells himself will be his last look. Prints you on the inside of his eyelids.

Then he sees your hand.

A short stack of business cards, matching the damned poster that started this whole ridiculous mess. He moves before he can think better of it.

Crosses the hall in a handful of long strides. The younger women scatter in his wake, parted by his low, muttered pardon me’s.

And you, you—

Eyes wide, lips parting around a breath, half a sentence, “Here, sir,” before he plucks a card from your fingers.

Then he’s gone.

Straight out the door. Across the car park. Sliding into the driver’s seat, his pulse thundering in his ears, his hand already reaching for the glove compartment. Lighter. Cigarette. Routine to steady himself. Busy his hands so he doesn’t barge right back inside and drag you out behind him. Fire to distract the caveman clawing at his brain.

He doesn’t look at your card right away, not until the first drag burns through his lungs.

It’s just as garish as the poster. Wine-red lettering. Your name. The dating agency you work for. Your number.

And if that isn’t convenient. 

That’s half the battle won.

He should call. Go through the proper channels, hire you for your services like any decent man would. But there’d be no way to lie about what he’s really looking for and what he really wants.

He can’t be too direct, can’t risk scaring you off, but he also can’t leave it up to chance. Experience—and two spousal payments—have taught him better than that.

He won’t make the same mistake a third time.

John does his research.

Your online presence is threadbare, limited to a short bio on the agency website and a sparsely populated profile on a corporate network. Matchmaker, professional hostess. He scrolls, picks apart the scraps. Posts you’ve written and shared, abbreviated comments you embellish with hearts.

Little as he has to study with, it adds up.

You’re all work, no play. Polite, sweet, and a real go-getter, as a former colleague describes you. All butterflies and whiskers on kittens. Sugar-coated professionalism. Your accomplishments and certifications laid out like medals, ambitions clear. Ruthless, in your own way, but the kind with puppy teeth, growing into your bite, he’d bet.

He saw you struggle and the nerves you tried to hide. Maybe others bought it, but he didn’t. If that’s where you are after years on the job, he imagines what you were like in the beginning. Easily rattled, unsteady on your feet.

Still. You’re trying. Look where you are now. Go-getter.

The effort and determination, however clumsy, fascinates. It keeps him searching for a glimpse beneath the polished exterior, but there’s nothing. Not a single mention of friends, family, or, notably, a boyfriend.

It makes his teeth ache.

He needs more.

A hideous, modern building. The very opposite of you—cold, plain, and impersonal. Expensive, not without amenities. His favorite?

The floor-to-ceiling windows.

Blessedly, you are a creature of routine.

Home to work, and work to home. A seamless loop, unbroken save for brief, reasonable deviations. Trips to the shops, a walk through the park near your flat, a community gym. Even then, there’s no idle wandering or wasted time.

Sometimes, when you duck into the market, you emerge with a bouquet of flowers, petals and leaves wrapped in crinkled brown paper, or a bottle of wine, its slender neck peeking out. Small indulgences you buy yourself.

Because there’s no one else to do it for you.

He’s all but confirmed it, watching you ferry yourself between the same points, alone every time. No one welcomes you home. No one goes home to you. Big, lofty place like yours and no one to share it with.

It doesn’t sit right with him, on two fronts.

The first—you pride yourself on your expertise. The training, the certificates, the metrics. It’s all laid out online, your badges of honor, but you’re missing the biggest one, aren’t you? Lacking firsthand knowledge. Quite the albatross hanging around your neck.

The second—it’s self-flagellation, needless and punishing. Pretty, smart thing like you, locking yourself away. A princess banishing herself to a tower. The persistent, cynical part of him wonders if it’s simple snobbery. That you think you’re too good for men like him. 

Yet that’s not quite it either, is it? 

You shut yourself off from everyone.

Twice in one week, from his spot in the mouth of the alley outside your office, he hears you decline invitations for drinks from your colleagues. The same excuse, too much to do, and a pat to the stuffed tote slung over your shoulder.

You work hard, pour yourself into the gig, and when you manage to unwind, it’s always in isolation. A quiet dinner, a solo glass of wine, a book balanced on the arm of your couch. Those big yoga stretches in the morning and at bed time.

The thought solidifies into certainty: You need someone to step in. Someone who sees you.

Luckily for you, John does.

(You never pull those shades down all the way. A fancy place like yours? It’d be a shame to keep them covered, lose the view.)

Satisfied he’s learned all he can from a distance, John decides to meet you properly, on familiar ground. A lonely, overworked girl deserves at least that much. He isn’t cruel.

Buying another ticket to another fucking night of pointless dating doesn’t taste so bad when he has you to look forward to.

This time, it’s in the back room of a restaurant. Smaller, intimate.

Perfect.

John glides through the song and dance. Sign in, take the name tag, acknowledge your coworker, let them believe he’s another hopeful looking for love.

He is, in a way. Different from the last time. He strides with purpose now, heat-seeking. He sidesteps the idle chatter and growing crowd.

Eyes on the prize, and there you are.

As primped and polished as the first night, dressed in soft colors that contrast the tension strung tight in your shoulders pulled up to your ears. Just as on edge, if not more.

That damn clipboard is back on your hip, clutched like a lifeline, and it takes less than a second for his mind to replace it. A warm weight settled against you. Small hands grasping at fabric. A dark-haired child perched, fingers curled in your blouse.

His throat tightens.

You really shouldn’t have mentioned babies.

You move through the space in a current, pulled in every direction at once. Checking in with your coworker, refusing to delegate. Pointing guests toward the toilets, fielding messages on your phone, juggling it all with a thin smile.

It’s admirable.

Nevertheless, hairline cracks form. The light dulls in your eyes, the stress shakes your hands. You’re tired, and not the kind he wants to see on you.

Not the delicious, drowsy fatigue of a body thoroughly spent, melted into the mattress after he’s wrung you dry. Not the half-hearted whimper of a protest as you nuzzle into his chest, mumbling about your ruined makeup staining pillowcases and how it’s his fault. Not the slow, syrupy exhaustion of pleasure that makes you pliant and warm in his arms. The kind of fatigue that leaves you soft, content. His.

Nor the bone-deep weariness of a woman woken in the middle of the night, cradling—

He blinks, biting down on the thought, and suddenly, you’re within reach.

“Oh, hi again,” you chirp, passing a scorecard into his hand. “You came a couple of weeks ago, right?”

That ugly impulse rises within him again, the desire to drag you away outside and make your problems disappear. “I did.”

“Thought so. Well, good luck,” you check his name tag with a smile. “John. Hope you find someone tonight.”

If only you knew.

“One question, if you don’t mind,” he says, barely keeping his face neutral. “Ever find your own match at one of these?”

Your eyes widen with an almost comical look of confusion. “Excuse me?”

John doesn’t lower his head but instead stares right down his nose. “No ring on your finger,” he muses. “Boyfriend too scared to step up?”

“I–I’m not–”

“Don’t tell me,” he chuckles under his breath, “Miss Matchmaker is single?”

John tucks his chin to his chest and watches your pulse jump under your necklace. “Now that,” he murmurs, tilting his head, “is interesting.”

You freeze like you’ve been caught in a lie. Here you are, a professional playing cupid to the lovesick masses, and yet you’re fumbling. Single.

To your credit, you recover quickly, wetting your lips and pasting on a smile. “I don’t see how my personal life is relevant.”

“Oh, but it is,” he insists. “Handin’ out happy endings left and right, and you don’t have your own? How am I s’posed to believe your expertise?”

A line creases your brows. “My job isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it? You sell love for a living, but you don’t believe in it enough to keep it for yourself?”

“That’s not—I do not sell love…” You stop yourself, sucking in a breath. “I’m focusing on my career.”

“Right. Too busy pairing up strangers to find someone of your own.”

You bristle, shifting your weight, trying to hold your ground.

He likes that. Likes knowing he’s getting to you, pressing into a tender spot. Chipping away at the outer, painted shell.

Before you muster a response, he breaks into a warm laugh to play up the angle. “Only teasin’.” More like testing, sussing out how much give there is until you crack open and spill. “Well,” he pockets his hands, “guess that means you’re up for grabs, huh?” He winks. “Talk to you later, sweetheart.”

He leaves you stuttering, clipboard clutched to your chest.

The night is a blur. He couldn’t name a single woman he spoke to. Unlike last time, his sheet is empty. No scores. If any woman sees it as a loss, he wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t care.

John steps out for air until more bodies trickle out, and then returns inside. He skirts the edges, poking around the tables at the far end where you’re collecting placards, setting the scene.

In his periphery, he sees the moment you realize you’re on a collision course.

“Lose something?”

Fuck, your voice. Your normal voice, not the chirpy affect you slap on for work. Even if there’s a new wariness to it.

“Think I managed to misplace my card.”

Your eyes widen, darting over the tables you cleared. A good and helpful girl, ignoring that little voice in your head.

“Oh no, I’ll help you look. Do you remember what table you ended on?”

He grins. “That’s kind of you, darl.”

He peeks as you check beneath tables, bending and huffing in frustration when you come up empty-handed. The apologetic smile when you finally admit defeat.

“I guess it’s long gone,” you say reluctantly.

John lays it on thick. Shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment, crumpling the sheet hidden in his jacket into a tight ball. “That’s too bad. What a wash.” A wistful sigh. “And you put on such a lovely event, too.”

The conflicted delight on your face is delicious.

“I’m so sorry.” you murmur. “Let me comp you a ticket to another event. I can’t let you go home empty-handed.”

What a turn of phrase.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. You took time out of your schedule–”

“Grab a drink with me instead.” He interrupts smoothly. “Lift my spirits.”

You hesitate, before shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“A friendly drink?” he teases. “Where’s the harm in that?” 

Not like you have a boyfriend to make jealous.

“It’s just, I ought to get this stuff back.” You nod toward the neat stack of placards, the tote overflowing with the event’s paraphernalia. “Calculate the scores, check compatibility…”

“Can’t your colleague do that for you?” he presses. “Think you deserve a drink for a job well done,” he adds, watching the way you react to the compliment, soaking it in like it’s the first kind word you’ve heard all day. “I saw you working hard all night. Busy girl, eh?”

Indecision shines behind your curled lashes. The gears turn in real-time, weighing the consequences of saying yes.

His nails puncture the paper in his pocket when you flash yet another sorry smile. 

“I’m flattered,” you say, ever so gracious, “but I really can’t. I’ll send that free ticket to your email.”

The dismissal lands like a slap. Indignation sprints across his mind with disbelief snapping at its heels. You don’t give him a chance to tell you where to send that email instead, just the brush-off, slipping away before he can get a word in edgewise. Choler floods the chambers of his heart, draws a bit of blood.

Well, there’s that bit of fight he wanted.

You don’t look back, and he doesn’t blame you. You must feel the weight of his stare between your shoulder blades, on the curve of your ass. You whisper to your coworker, gesturing for their help with you.

His jaw flexes, fingers uncurling from the shredded card in his pocket.

That’s alright.

What kind of man would he be if he didn’t have a backup plan?

The moment unfolds as if coincidence.

John times his approach as you exit the florist, fingers idly stroking the petals of the bouquet in your arms, the same tulips you buy every week. He pictures doing the same to you.

He moves as you step onto the pavement. The collision is gentle, considering, but hard enough that his shoulder clips yours to knock your balance. Enough that you let out a startled gasp, grip faltering, sending the bouquet tumbling from your hands and bag jerking down your arm.

“Shit,” he mutters, crouching before you can. He gathers the flowers, offering them back with a small, sheepish smile. “Didn’t see you there, love. My fault—Wait.” 

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes like he’s only just putting it together. Like he didn’t spend the morning in your shadow to ensure this exact moment. 

Your attention jumps up to him in pure surprise.

“I know you. Miss Matchmaker.”

Recognition washes over your face, and in the span of a breath, confusion gives way to composure. It’s impressive how quickly you smooth it over, tucking away irritation.

“John?”

“You remember me.”

How could she not?

“Of course,” You take the flowers, clutching them tight. Never without a shield. “What a, um, small world.”

John huffs a short laugh, rocking back on his heels. “‘Fraid so.” He lets the silence stretch, drinking you in. You’re too poised to flinch outright, but he’s trained to catch it anyway. Fingers crinkling the paper, chin tipping a fraction higher.

You’re dressed for errands, wrapped in a trench that frustrates more than it should. He knows what’s beneath—having committed the curve of your waist to memory, the shape of your hips. It’s irritating, really.

Still, he likes the look of you like this. Definitely the type to never step outside without making yourself presentable. The type to live by the mantra you never know who you might run into. Collar turned up against the chill, hair styled meticulously away from your face, not hiding that guarded expression. You’re assessing him the same. 

Good.

No catching you on the back foot today, not without a push.

“Draw up any matches since last we met?”

You exhale a short, amused breath. “I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

He grins. “Ah, right. Can’t have the matchmaker giving away her secrets.”

“Yep. Sorry again about your missing card and, um…” You trail off, and John fills in the blank. The rejection. Your insult is forgotten. Water under the bridge, as far as he’s concerned. “I hope you come next time. We’ll get you sorted.”

“Don’t think you’ll see me there again.”

“No?”

“Don’t think speed dating’s for me.”

You nod knowingly, and hike your bag higher onto your shoulder. “It isn’t for everyone. Some people prefer or have better luck meeting the old-fashioned way.” You lift your wrist and check your watch, the impatient thing that you are. Eager to get home to the hour or two of work you needlessly do every Sunday evening. You start to pull away, already checking out. “Well, I better–”

He steps forward, boxing you in toward the wall.

“Like this?”

Your brow knits, mouth pressing into an unsure smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Polite and strained. You glance at the busy walk, weighing whether it’s worth stepping around or if that would be too rude.

“Like ‘this’? I don’t–”

“Two people, running into each other by chance.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. Smile lapsing, dropping in and out. Curiosity buried beneath skepticism. 

“John…”

He likes how his name sounds on your lips. He wonders how it’d sound under other circumstances.

“Have dinner with me.”

You blink and shrink back, though there’s nowhere to go. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t let your words land. He leans into them. No retreat. Not when the unseen thread fixing the two of you together tugs on the knuckle of his ring finger.

You adjust your grip on the bouquet. “I don’t date clients.”

“Haven’t hired you for anything, have I?” He tilts his head, innocent. 

“A technicality.”

“But not untrue.” He cocks a brow. “One dinner. No strings. If you decide halfway through you’d rather be anywhere else, I won’t stop you.”

Another beat of hesitation. He’s patient. He knows how this works.

Then, finally, you sigh. “Fine. One dinner.”

John smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

For now.

In the days leading to dinner, there’s not enough work to fill his hands.

Certainly not enough to fill his mind.

His thoughts, however, are consumed by you. Maddening how much of his attention you command, how the brief moments shared echo in his mind long after. A constant reverberation, shaping his thoughts, making him imagine another life. Branches reality in two—one without you, unthinkable, and the other? 

A home. A two-storey house with a garden. Kids. Maybe a dog. A do-over. His childhood, but through the looking glass and done right.

A life he’s determined to see the latter into fruition.

There’s very little he’s set his mind to that he hasn’t achieved.

He assembles an outdoor playset for a young family. Decent-sized house and lot. Not unlike the one he sees behind his eyelids. The little ones badger him with questions, tug at his sleeves, chatter away as he carefully fits the wooden frame together and hangs the swings. It’s good practice, what with his plans.

When their mother pops outside to offer water, she compliments his aptitude with children. His patience. Assumes he must have a brood of his own, and he doesn’t correct her. It’s in the works.

Her nails are red, like yours, but perfectly maintained. Despite the slight bags under her eyes, there’s a lightness to her smile that tells him she’s exactly where she wants to be.

And when she steps away to take a call, he imagines you in her stead. Having it all—a home, a family. He’ll give it to you. 

She disappears inside. Her children shriek with laughter, and he wipes the sweat from his brow.

Yes. You, standing in the threshold, tea mug warming your hands. Watching a runt or two running wild, belly low with another. Your nails painted that same cherry tint. Chipped, but perfect.

The restaurant’s host recognizes him, he’s sure of it, but he doesn’t recognize you. How would he?

You’re younger than your predecessors, for one. Smiling, for another. Not on John’s arm as a captive for one of his fruitless, belated apologies. Nor are you clearly hostage to obligation, for a tired anniversary ritual, a repetition of mistakes. No. You’re here as someone new, a departure. John’s future.

He erases the other man’s disapproval with a banknote slipped into his palm. The coward keeps his lips sealed, ushering you to the table you deserve.

Price, party of two.

Maybe this time next year you’ll be celebrating a party of three.

If you’re upset over the server’s harmless assumptions about the two of you celebrating a special occasion, you hide it behind the menu. After ordering, you’re forced to relinquish it. Nothing left to hide behind.

The scrape of your finger over your thumbnail betrays agitation. A nervous habit he’ll break after the engagement. Can’t wear his ring without a flawless set.

He doesn’t want to change you. Not much. Not beyond what warrants influence.

As the conversation unfolds—your preferred wine, the rhythm of your day, the idle pleasantries—he studies. His first unobstructed view. No more staring across a crowded room or through your window from his car. Up close and personal.

You are everything he wants. Intelligent, pretty, industrious, and amenable. A woman made to be adored. 

A wonder you deprive yourself of it.

John’s old hand at extracting information. There’s little difference between threats, praise, and encouragement. The right pressure and tone—all surface some truth. He’s practiced on plenty of folks with everything to lose.

But this? Far more delicate. High stakes.

And for all your sugar-spun sweetness and girlish, heart-strewn wardrobe, you are no easy conquest. You play coy. Meet his questions with half-answers, sidestep when you can, parry when you can’t. You know you’re being led, but not quite where.

Puppy teeth, but the same sensibility—you don’t know when to give up and roll over.

All the more proof you need him around.

It’s cute when you try to go dutch on the bill, flustering all over again when the server informs you John’s already paid. Damn near insulting, isn’t it? To be taken care of. That insistence on covering yourself, as if you can’t afford even the notion of dependency. A lifetime of self-sufficiency turned reflex.

You don’t know what to do when someone else takes the reins, and does a good job.

It shouldn’t surprise you. Not after he’s played the perfect gentleman. Holding the door. Pulling out your chair. Helping you in and out of your coat. Adamant on following through with escorting you home.

You made him meet at the restaurant. A necessary concession at the time, but a bruise nonetheless.

He acts surprised when he parks outside your building. Compliments the structure, neighborhood, all that. He leans against the driver’s side door, hands tucked into his pockets. Casual, as if he hasn’t plotted out how he’d get you inside.

You tiptoe around a goodbye. Promising.

The nerve comes, eventually.

“Were you…?”

He tilts his head, feigning mild curiosity. “Was I what?”

You square your shoulders in that trumped-up confidence. “Coming up?”

He lets the question hang for a beat longer than necessary to let you hear yourself. 

This is a surprise. You pushed back on the date, but here you are asking him up. Lonely, needy creature. You’re probably wet.

Briefly, he reconsiders crowding you into the lift and watching that wide-eyed surprise melt. Years of stratagem hold him in place. The long con is always the smarter play.

“Oh, darl,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I am flattered.”

He injects enough warmth seep into his voice to make the rejection sting without cutting deep. “I was only teasing earlier,” he adds, a playful glint in his eyes, the perfect balance between charm and rebuke. “Think we ought to get to know each other better before that, don’t you?”

The shift is immediate. Your face falls. A flicker of surprise, a flash of embarrassment that you rush to mask with a nervous laugh, waving your hand as if physically brushing it off. That confidence of yours really is paper-thin. Fragile. So easy to poke and prod. Moldable.

“Ah, of course. I didn’t mean—”

No, but you did, and that’s the beauty of it. You want to mean it. You don’t know how to ask for what you want yet. Another lesson to teach.

“Don’t fret,” he soothes, taking a step closer, fingers finding your chin, featherlight, guiding it back. “How about a kiss goodnight instead, hm?” He taps the divot of your chin. “Tide you over until next time?”

He tastes your perfume first, having caught hints of it all night. Now it’s stronger, heady as you lift your chin. He waits until your eyelids flutter shut before leaning in, smelling burnt sugar before he samples it.

John knows indulgence best through cigars and smoke rolling over his tongue. But you? You cut through what that’s dulled, brighter. Red wine, velvet and ripe, staining the sweetness like crushed cherries. It’s Herculean, the effort to not change his mind and hustle you indoors. His mouth presses more firmly, and for one dizzying moment, he imagines the taste of your skin—licking sugar out of the bowl.

You try to get closer, but he cuts it off.

Your lips are wet, trembling when he pulls back, and you wear shame—white-hot and burning. In disbelief that you asked, aren’t you? What has gotten into you?

“Oh, I got lipstick on your mouth, let me–”

“Leave it.”

He pulls over once on the drive home, rummaging through the glove compartment to wipe the smear of your lipstick from his mouth. The sight of the red stain sends a pulse of heat straight down. You’d lose your head if you saw him now, he thinks, flicking open his belt in the dark. What you do to him. 

He barely gets a good tug in before he ruins that stain, tasting sugar in the back of his throat.

Home in bed, he pulls up the headshot from your agency’s website and dips a hand under his waistband again.

Just something to tide him over.

You wait a standard three days to text. He calls instead.

You sound breathless, which makes sense. Now’s about the time you leave the gym.

“I’m scoping out a potential venue,” you explain, rushed, coming down from whatever routine you finished. He pictures it. Tight leggings, top clinging to sweaty skin, earbuds half-pulled out because you’re walking home alone. “I was thinking you could help?”

“Help? What do you need me for?”

“The atmosphere’s different when I’m alone. I don’t get a good sense if a space is conducive to dates.”

You’re asking him to play along. To be part of your world. Giving him another opening.

He smiles, unseen but satisfied. “Right. What am I getting out of this?”

There’s a short laugh on the other end, meant to cover your nerves. “Dinner,” you offer. “And the opportunity to let me know how you really felt about our services.”

Clever girl. Keeping it professional and leaving yourself an out.

“How could I refuse?”

The restaurant is a hole in the wall. He’d’ve never found it on his own. A perfect setting, but not for what you said. Testing the atmosphere. John knows better.

You’re staring through the menu, picking your thumb.

“Would it help if I set a timer and moved to the next table in five minutes?”

Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

“You’re fidgeting, sweetheart.”

You pull your hand away like you’ve been caught, setting it flat on the table.

“Nervous?”

A quiet admission. “Maybe.”

“Don’t date much, do you?”

Your spine straightens. “I told you, I’m focused on my career.”

“Mm.” John hums, leaning back. “Not a judgment, sweetheart. Just an observation. I merely find it interesting. You run speed dating. Introduce people. Help them make connections…”

“I’m good at it,” you murmur, a shield being drawn up.

“Never said you weren’t. Simply curious why someone so good at helping others find their person hasn’t found one of her own. Especially when she’s a catch.”

You don’t answer, not right away. But you don’t look away, either.

Good girl. Let him in.

The silence goes taut. Then, a sigh, and you lift your eyes again. There’s something different in them now. A crack in that carefully maintained composure. Vulnerability.

“I used to date a lot, actually. I had bad luck with men, though.”

John’s thighs flex under the table, hot and hungry pulse running through him. Finally. Finally, some answers. 

“Tell me about them.”

It’s not a question. An invitation. One you’re teetering on the edge of accepting. Curiosity wins out in the end. You bite.

“There were…a few. Nothing serious. Not for lack of trying.” You confess, embarrassed. “I attract the wrong kinds of men.”

Funny. “What kind of wrong?”

“A flake,” you start, bitter. “Canceled more dates than he showed up for. I stopped bothering after a while.”

One.

“A man-child. Wanted a girlfriend who was more like his mother. Expected me to cook, clean, take care of everything while he played video games.”

Two.

“A cheapskate.” A hollow laugh escapes. “Took me out on a ‘fancy’ date and made me pay after he ‘forgot’ his wallet. On my birthday.”

Three.

“And…” Your throat works around the last one. The worst one. “A cheater. Slept with one of my friends. I walked in on them.”

Four.

Your four horsemen of the dating apocalypse.

John’s jaw clenches, though he schools his features. He can’t have you seeing what that information really does to him. Can’t let you know how badly it makes him want to hunt them down and fix it.

On top of it all, you tack on how they made you swear off dating for a year. Which turned into two, then three.

“Three years?”

You bite your lip, insecurity crossing your face. “Is that…bad?”

Three years. Three years of no one waiting on you, no one to spoil you. An empty flat, and, he assumes, a cold bed.

“Not at all. Only been on a few dates in the last year, myself.” ‘Date’ is a strong term for tossing part of his pay at pretty girls on screen for a chat. “Is that what this is, then? A date? Could’ve sworn I was here to help scope out the space.”

“No, I–I did ask you here to help with the venue, John. That’s all. Really.” A lie that twists you into knots, wrings your hands, fiddles with your necklace. It’s short-lived. “I suppose, if you want, it can be a date.” The words come out shy, testing the waters. “But so we’re clear, I’m not looking for anything serious, alright? I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Another lie. A thousand nights alone? You’re ready.

He smirks. “Well. Regardless, y’know how to make a man feel wanted, sweetheart.”

And if that doesn’t make you preen.

The conversation shifts when dinner arrives, treading into gentler waters. John alludes to his job, a morsel, and you, sweet girl that you are, don’t press for more. Content to gnaw on the bones he offers, easy details meant to keep those puppy teeth of yours busy. His parents. Where he’s from. How he wasn’t much of a student. How he worked under the table as a kitchen porter at a golf club until he joined up.

It works better than the wine, softening you bit by bit. The prick who poked at your insecurities earlier? He’s dissolving into someone else entirely. Someone you’re trying to figure out. Someone you might even like.

Your eyes linger longer when he speaks now. Your smile turns natural, less forced. You lean in when he talks, hanging on his words.

John knows exactly what he’s doing, feeding you enough to keep you intrigued, to have you looking at him through softer eyes. Because if you’re trying to piece him together, trying to understand him—you’re already invested. That’s how he’ll get you.

One crumb at a time.

It’s necessary groundwork. Sooner or later, details’ll come out. After all, you’re going to marry him. Certain things will have to be—

“Any, um…notable girlfriends? Since I told you about my four awful exes.”

Innocent. Fair. It still puts him on edge.

A big test for both of you. He told himself he’d lie weeks back. A fabrication to allow him to censor the truth and leave his past behind. See if he couldn’t get out of his payments and wash his hands completely of his ex-wives, call in a couple favors, push papers.

Yet now, now that you’ve bared your heart to him like a good and honest girl, he suppose it’s only right to tell the truth.

That’s not the plan, though.

He’ll phone a few names tomorrow. Get started on the paperwork.

“No one worth mentioning.”

The rest of the evening is easygoing from there. You remain relaxed, the earlier stiffness gone, but you’re still holding back. You let him toy with one of your rings for a few seconds before pulling away. Your feet bump under the table, and you tuck yours beneath your chair. Your eye contact’s better, but you find reasons to look away.

You’re resisting what’s building between you. He can see it clear as day. For one simple reason, John bets.

You don’t believe in love. Don’t trust it, at least.

Not anymore. Maybe you did once, back when it was uncomplicated, hadn’t soured in your mouth, and burned you down into the frazzled woman he’s observed. Before it became studied instead of felt. A series of points and calculated risks, a numbers game that you understand better than most. An expert on what works for everyone else but never quite trusting enough to let it work for you.

It’s why you throw yourself into your work. Why you obsess over climbing a ladder built on the successful couplings of others, measuring fulfillment in repeat dates and engagement announcements. If you can’t have it for yourself, at least you can manufacture it for someone else.

The problem is, he does believe in love.

He’s just never been any good at it.

It’s one of the few things he’s never let go of, even if he’s never known how to hold it properly. He’s always been better at destruction than construction—an arsonist, never an architect. He sets the foundation only to strike the match and burn it to the ground. That’s why his ex-wives only speak of him through intermediaries. That’s why his relationships have been more like wrecking balls than anything resembling stability.

It’s why he throws himself into his work.

It’s why you’re perfect for him, even if you fuss about it and tell yourself otherwise. Insist you want nothing serious to do with men again.

He knows better. Knows that under all that steel and sugar, there’s a heart that wants and aches, no matter how stubbornly you try to deny it.

This time, you surprise him. The dinner is pre-expensed on a company card. The grief that stirs with his ego ends smothered by the victorious look on your face when he pockets his wallet.

It makes you bold.

You suggest a pub a street over for afters, and he lets you lead. Men shrink away on the walk with him beside you, a hand on the small of your back. 

The tables are smaller here, giving your legs nowhere to go when he spreads his underneath and cages them in.

Another round comes. Time slips by. The noise of the pub hums in the background, but his focus never wavers. With every sip, the distance narrows.

Inevitably, the conversation returns to speed dating and its apparent science. You try to stick to your principles. Too bad he has years of experience in bending those. It doesn’t take much more prodding.

“I can’t tell you what your dates said, word for word.”

“Then summarize.”

“You were…” You vacillate, searching. “Largely described as, um, curt, reserved, and distracted.”

Not inaccurate. He’s had worse appraisals and assessments.

He chuckles. “Must’ve had my eye on someone already.”

“Oh?” you say, trying for nonchalance, but it falls flat, hovering awkwardly in the air.

John shifts, stretching his legs out and closing them back into your space like he owns it—owns you. 

God, you are so close. Skirting his reach. 

You’ve reached a critical juncture. Make or break. Two dates, that’s all it takes, isn’t it? Two dates, and life itself stretches out with endless possibilities. Weeks of wanting have led to this. All the work he’s put in to get you here, to this goddamn table, where he can almost taste what could be.

His ring on your finger. His baby on your hip. Your own success story.

No one’s ever gotten anywhere worth going without a push. Without a nudge to take that last step and get over that line they’ve drawn for themselves.

John licks his lip. “Think you know who, sweetheart.”

It will take time, he realizes on the way to yours, to fully tear down the walls you’ve built around yourself. He feels it in the tentative kiss you place on the corner of his mouth at your building’s door, and again in the lift. 

He’s no stranger to controlled demolition. This time, he won’t half-ass it. No more mistakes or half-hearted efforts. Third time’s the charm, and he’s ready to make sure of it.

Whatever backsliding occurs between the pub and your front door, he erases mouth-first. For a split second, he catches that flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, the subtle hesitation that says you’re not sure whether you should give in, but he doesn’t give you the luxury of doubt. You’re here. He’s here. It’s inevitable.

With both of you starved for something—anything—there’s no room for second-guessing. The barren years of your dry spells? Tinder, piled high.

Between fervent kisses, he steals glances at your place, cataloging details. Every corner of your world is his to explore now, but the bedroom is the prize. The view is better here, inside. No longer looking up at some unreachable, untouchable version of you from the outside. He has access now. Control. It’s a quiet triumph that settles in his chest, a thrill he can’t quite suppress. It seeps into his touch, his hands finding the hem of your dress, claiming inch after inch as if he’s laying claim to the territory he’s finally breached.

All it took was a little patience—and a hell of a lot of persistence.

John pushes you until your legs hit the bed, hands dimpling into your hips, half-tucked under your dress. He tugs at the fabric. “Want to take this off f’me, baby?”

“Yeah, okay…”

While your view is obscured by the dress, his eyes roam your bedroom. It’s exactly as he imagined—sophisticated and cozy with shades of rose, peach, and marigold. A collection of framed photos on the bureau he’ll study tomorrow. On your nightstand, a tray with jewelry and lipstick tubes. Dog-eared books—romance, unsurprisingly.

The dress pools at your feet. John takes in the sight of you, his smirk widening. Rubs circles with his thumbs on the skin exposed by the high arches of your deep plum panties.

“You wear this for me?” He abandons the bottoms, touch drifting up to cup your breasts through the matching brassiere. “All dolled up, planning on getting lucky?”

His thumbs roll over your hard nipples, coaxing a gasp from your lips, and your hands fly to his wrists. Not to stop him, but to steady yourself. Your legs tremble, barely holding you up. 

“No, it’s not–I didn’t want to assume–“

“Mm.” He hums, eyes half-lidded. “But you hoped.”

Your weak denial dies on your lips when he guides you down, gently but insistently. He maneuvers you like he owns you already, coaxing you to sit, then easing you back until your spine meets the mattress. His hands work their way down your legs, kneading the goose-pimpled skin of your thighs and calves. Each press of his thumbs is purposeful, a silent reminder of who’s in charge now.

And then he sinks lower.

John shoulders between your legs, prostrating himself on the floor, knees hitting the carpet as if this—you—are worth worship. His head dips, lips grazing along the inside of your thigh.

“Easy, love.” His hands are steady as they hook behind your knee, lifting and folding one of your legs over his broad shoulder. The angle opens you up to him and reveals the damp staining the cotton. He sets your other foot on the edge of the bed. “Let me take care of you.”

Your breath hitches, and that’s when he sees it. The moment you let the reins slip.

“Good girl,” he praises. His grin, hidden between your thighs, stretches with a kiss.

Candyfloss sweet, with a pinch of salt.

He called it like he saw it then. He’s smug that it’s true.

Even filtered through the thin barrier of the gusset sopping up its share, you are a wonder on the palate. A delight on the senses. He noses over the slight springiness of the curls trapped underneath, tongue laving over every dip where the fabric clings. Everywhere but where you want him.

“John, John, please,” You’re gasping on the bed, bright whines spilling out. Hands strangling the duvet. 

“Need somethin’?” He puffs over your drenched panties, rubbing his rough, bearded cheek on your thigh deliberately. “Gotta ask.”

It’s another minute of torture for you to work it out. It comes out in a whisper. “Take them off, please.”

“There’s a girl. Lift up.” 

The panties come away and promptly disappear. In the low light, your cunt’s a mess, shiny with a mix of soaked-in spit and arousal. Perfect like the rest of you.

“Oh,” the single word you manage when John gets his mouth on you unimpeded.

Victory tastes like burnt sugar melting on his tongue, slow and rich, heating into syrup. He groans into your cunt, digging one hand into your thigh to keep it hooked over his shoulder. His other hand wraps around your ankle, anchoring your other foot in place.

You twitch, moans pitching higher and higher, trying to press yourself closer into his mouth. He doesn’t let you. He keeps you right where he wants you—pinned open with every tremor and gasp fueling that molten heat rolling down his spine and thickening his cock.

“Easy, love,” he murmurs, lips brushing skin. His thumb strokes soothing circles over your ankle, a mockery of tenderness compared to the ruthless way he’s devouring you. His tongue works with intent, coaxing you to the edge.

His grip deserts your thigh, and you clench around the finger he slips in while you’re nice and distracted. Lets off your clit with a pop, pulling back to admire your face scrunched in pleasure.

John kisses the crease of your thigh. “This what you’ve been doing all by yourself, baby?” His taunts, dripping with satisfaction as he works you open. “Bet they weren’t enough, were they?”

His smirk deepens when he adds a second, savoring the way your pussy almost sucks them in. When you don’t answer, he stills. “Were they?”

You’re a quick learner. “No, no, they weren’t.”

“Thought so. Gonna give you one more before I fuck you, gonna need it.” 

You take the third with a quiet thread of praise. His cock’s pulsing hard against the zipper of his trousers, aching to switch places with his hand. It’s magnetic. The whole world centers on your weeping cunt, squeezing three of his fingers to death with how badly you want to come. It’s a miracle you still haven’t yet, given how you circle the edge. He’s an inkling of what you need, but he won’t let you backpedal.

You speak in front of rooms of lovelorn strangers. You will speak to your man.

He gingerly pumps his fingers into you as deep as they’ll go, curling and petting in all the right places. Your clit twitches, abandoned. 

“John–” Yes. “–will you–mouth, please.”

“Hm?”

“My clit, please, need your mouth–”

He’ll work on articulation another time. He dips his head and licks a broad stripe over your neglected bud, then molds his mouth to it. Grunts around it when your fingers thread into hair and tug down.

That’s when the floodgates open, and you finally give into everything you’ve held at arm’s length for too long. Toes curling, muscles tensing, a heel digging into one of his vertebrae. Must be a relief.

John rises to his feet as you come down, knees popping in the silence. He licks his lips, wiping them off on the back of his hand. He towers, intentionally overwhelming and blocking out the room as he looms. Casts a shadow he hopes you feel on every inch of your skin.

He works his belt open while you piece yourself back together, though there’s no point in that. It’s a bright spot when you awkwardly reach behind your back and free your tits without being asked. 

A wild look in your eye. Smudged makeup, hair coming unstyled. The loss of composure he’s waited for. Naked hunger in your gaze, eating him up as his clothes hit the floor. You’ve been with boys, sure, but John knows what he looks like. And he looks like a man.

He doesn’t ask about a condom. Gentleman enough he has one in a pocket, but not enough that he’ll do the decent thing and remind you about it.

You squeak in his neck when the steel wool above his cock scrapes your inner thighs. He grinds against you lazily, holding you in the band of his arms to kiss and share your taste. 

“It’s a lot, baby,” John warns, rutting himself through the mess between your legs. He swallows hard when he prods your hole with the tip, squeezing the base to warn himself. It notches, your body yielding despite your squirming. Skittish even now. From there it’s a smooth, slow glide.

Still knocks the breath out of the both of you.

“Oh god, John, f-fuck, it’s so–”

Your cunt’s hot as an oven. Wet and fitted for him. Gives in easily now that the right man’s filling it. Knows he’s it for you, meaning it’s only a matter of time for your head and heart to catch up. 

His chest and belly meld to yours as he keeps you pinned, hips pushing until they’re flush, and he’s sunken to the hilt, grinding in to claim whatever space is left.  “Good girl. Let me in.”

“S’good, big,” you sound delirious, slurring as nonsense tumbles out in a breathless rush. 

He barely lifts his hips those first minutes. Warming you up for what’s coming, what he’s been starving for this whole time. Getting an eyeful of your sweet, dumbfounded expression, coming to terms with it. Figuring it all out while your pussy stretches around his cock and greedily swallows it whole.

John readjusts, peeling his sweaty skin from yours, keeping himself pressed deep into the spot that’s got you strangling his cock. His hands wedge under your knees and push, allowing himself to finally build up to his desired pace. An urgency that speaks to his need to usher in the future and slip a ring on you.

“Feel like a dream,” he pants, staring down at the bounce of your tits through half-shut eyes. The smell of sweat and sex and your cunt under his nose. “You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart. Yeah, look good under me.”

You struggle to breathe around his thrusts.

“Knew the moment I saw you, y’know. Took one look and knew. Knew that not a single girl I’d speak to would measure up to you.” His rhythm never faltering. “But you made me work for it, didn’t you?”

You pant, fingers clawing the pillow above your head. “You–You made me work, too–you didn’t come up–ah, that night.”

John laughs, the sound rough as sandpaper, deep and throaty, and it rattles through you. It drives him to push a little harder, to coax more of those desperate sounds out of you. “And look where we are now, baby.”

Tears slip out of your eyes, painting black streams of mascara on your cheeks. You’re wrecked and he’s barely scratched the surface.

You shouldn’t have ever mentioned babies if this isn’t where you wanted to end up.

Your second orgasm builds similarly to the first. Shaking legs, head sinking into the mattress, spine arching. Stars appear in your pupils, shiny under the glass of tears, and lock onto him, transfixed. A whole mess of big feelings. Uncertainty, confusion, disbelief. Fury, ardor. He can tell, despite everything, a part of you does not want to want this. But gravity doesn’t ask permission before it pulls.

He fishes spit out of his cheek and drops it under a thumb on your clit to bring it home.

“Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl? Squeeze me tight?” 

“John, I’m gonna–I’m gonna–”

“You can do it, too good of a girl not to–Christ.”

Whatever plea you utter gets lost in a feverish rush and a full-throated moan. You go tight as a vise, clamping down on him as you come. Liquid heat rolls down his spine and his pace turns choppy. Fingers slipping from your knee and clit, taking bruising handfuls of your hips he’ll kiss better later. 

He plugs himself deep, coming to a sudden halt to spill. Every muscle in his body goes rigid as he plants himself at the root, filling you in hot, desperate spurts. It goes on longer than he thought it would. You milk it out of him, and it leaves a stringy, sticky mess, tagging over your folds when he reluctantly withdraws.

A whimper sputters from your bitten lips when he lets his drooling tip spew its last over your winking, fucked hole.

The two of you catch your breath in silence.

You said—I don’t know if I’m ready.

He wonders what you’ll say in the morning.

John coaxes a third and final orgasm out of you as he massages his cum back into you, shushing when you cry a little more on his shoulder about it. Whining about it being too much. Same as when he wipes you clean and you go shy on him. Only cracking your legs open again when he reminds you how proud he is of you for taking him so well. For everything.

He waits until you’re deeply asleep, mouth slightly open, completely immovable, to climb out of bed.

He pads through your flat bare like he owns the place. A glass of water to keep him company as he leisurely tours.

Your work bag sits, still packed, next to your desk at the window. He kicks it under. This will be the first weekend you don’t lift a finger if he has his way. 

At least. Not in the service of others.

John stares at the pill case on your bathroom vanity as he empties his bladder. His next hurdle.

He’ll let you keep your job. It makes you happy, and he’s not so cruel to take that from you. But if you ever change your mind, if your investment in it wavers, he won’t stop you. Between his pay and benefits, the handyman business—he’s more than capable of providing for the two of you. And when the time comes for more, when you need to feed, clothe, and house his whelps, he’ll take care of that too.

After all, there’s very little he’s set his mind to that he hasn’t achieved.

[magic-shop-stories]

Checkered Sunshine & Neon Rainbows (3)

Summary: A mall trip turns into something deeper as J-Hope reminds Lumi that they are worth more than price tags and apologies. Between neon signs, a puffer jacket, and quiet car rides, they learn that love isn't earned—it's given, freely and endlessly.

Chapters:

1 ; 2 ; 3

Chapter 3: Neon Sunsets and Puffer Jacket Promises

Warnings: Mentions of past self-harm, grief, trauma, healing themes, emotional vulnerability

Rating: G

Genre: BTS AU, Parent, Slice of Life, Fluff, Healing

Word Count: ~700

Chapter 3: Neon Sunsets and Puffer Jacket Promises

The car ride was a riot of colour and noise. Lumi had commandeered the aux cord the second they’d buckled in, and now Harry Styles’ Watermelon Sugar blasted through the speakers, the bass thumping like a second heartbeat. They sang along at full volume, knees bouncing, fingers drumming the window in a chaotic rhythm only they understood.

“Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin’…!” they belted, kicking their mismatched Vans against the dashboard. The sun streaked through the window, turning their orange-streaked hair into liquid gold.

J-Hope gripped the steering wheel, half-laughing, half-wincing. “You’re gonna dent my car, Lumi-ya.”

“You’ll thank me when we’re vibing in my dopamine room!” they shouted back, spinning a gummy bear bracelet around their wrist. Their green eyeliner had smudged into a rebellious haze, making their freckles pop like constellations.

He glanced at them—really looked—and felt that familiar ache in his chest. Four years ago, Lumi had sat in this same seat, silent and hollow-eyed, sleeves pulled over fresh cuts. Back then, they’d flinched at loud noises, at bright colours, at their reflection. Now they were a supernova, burning too fast, too bright, and he’d let the universe collapse before he dimmed that light again.

---

The mall loomed ahead, its glass façade glittering like a promise. Lumi lunged for the door handle before he’d even parked.

“Seatbelt. Now.” J-Hope caught the back of their rainbow sweater vest, yanking them gently into their seat. “You’re not a feral cat, ya?”

“Debatable!” they chirped, but slumped back, vibrating. “Disco balls, Appa. Disco. Balls.”

“Disco balls,” he repeated, killing the engine. The sudden silence felt sacred. Lumi’s breath hitched, their eyes wide and wild, fingers twisting a frog ring like a prayer bead.

He reached over, stilling their hand. “Breathe. It’s not a race.”

They nodded, cheeks flushed, but their knee kept jiggling. “I just… need it to be perfect. Like my brain’s finally outside, you know?”

He knew. After the accident, they’d refused to sleep in any room that looked “too much like a hospital.” Beige walls, white sheets—it had taken months to convince them they were safe. Now they wanted to explode safely, and he’d hand them the matches.

“Perfect’s boring,” he said, flicking their nose. “Let’s get weird.”

---

The mall swallowed them whole. Lumi darted ahead, their star-patched jeans flashing like a disco ball in motion. J-Hope trailed behind, mentally tallying their Pinterest list: checkerboard rug, neon signs, skateboard shelves… Wait.

“Lumi-ya!” he called, jogging to catch up. “The flower ceiling lamp—!”

They froze mid-skip, shoulders slumping. “Oh. Right.” Their voice cracked, just barely. “It… sold out online. But it’s fine! We’ll improvise! Maybe… origami cranes? Or glow-in-the-dark stickers—!”

They were ramping up again, words tripping over themselves. J-Hope pulled them into a side hug, ignoring the stares of passing teens. “We’ll find something better. Swear.”

“Better than a flower lamp?” They scoffed, but leaned into him, their dopamine jewellery clinking softly. “Doubt.”

He steered them toward the home decor section, where a neon ~v i b e s~ sign flickered ominously. “You once turned my old socks into a ‘statement art installation.’ I believe in you.”

Lumi snorted, ducking under his arm. “It was avant-garde and you know it.”

---

Later the mall’s sliding doors hissed shut behind them, but Lumi lingered, their eyes glued to a mannequin in the Calvin Klein store window. The puffer jacket was thick, and sleek—normal, by their standards—but something about the way it hung, boxy and defiant, made their fingers twitch. They could style this. Add patches, safety pins, maybe bleach the sleeves…

J-Hope followed their gaze, already pulling out his wallet. “Size?”

“Appa, no—” Lumi grabbed his arm, cheeks flushing. “We already spent so much. The neon signs, the rug, the—the disco ball planter—”

“And the disco ball planter is a necessity,” he said flatly, steering them inside. The sales associate lit up, but J-Hope waved them off. “We’ll just… look.”

Lumi didn’t argue again. They stood statue-still as he zipped them into the jacket, their reflection in the mirror a clash of contradictions—glossy puffer fabric swallowing their rainbow sweater vest, frog rings peeking out from the cuffs.

“Perfect,” J-Hope declared.

“It’s expensive,” they whispered.

He turned them to face him, hands on their shoulders. “You’re worth every won. Always.”

They didn’t cry. Not here. But their throat bobbed, eyes glazing over like they were rewinding every time they’d apologized for existing after their mom’s death. For the scars, the silence, the way they’d whispered “I’m sorry” like a mantra.

“Okay,” they croaked. “Okay.”

---

Back at the car, Lumi helped load the bags in silence. Disco balls clinked, neon signs rattled, and the skateboard shelves jutted awkwardly from the trunk. When J-Hope shut the hatchback, they finally broke.

“I’m exhausting,” they blurted, tears spilling. “I talk too much, I spend too much, I—I painted the wall and you just—”

He pulled them into a hug, their face smushed against the puffer jacket. “You’re alive,” he murmured into their hair, still flecked with orange paint. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

They clung to him, trembling, until the mall’s parking lot lights flickered on.

---

The drive home was quiet. Lumi curled into the passenger seat, the new jacket swallowing them whole, and stared at the neon signs glowing in the backseat. SUN, CLOUD, BE HAPPY, Outside, Seoul blurred into streaks of gold and shadow.

By the time they hit the highway, Lumi was asleep—head lolling, frog ring catching the streetlights. J-Hope kept glancing over, memorizing the peace on their face. No jittering legs, no frantic Pinterest scrolling. Just soft breaths and smudged green eyeliner.

Four years ago, he thought, they’d hidden in hospital corners, slicing skin to feel something. Now they’d turned their room into a kaleidoscope, stolen his clothes, and danced like the world owed them joy.

His phone buzzed—a text from Jin.

Did they burn down Dongdaemun?

He snapped a pic of Lumi’s knocked-out form, neon signs glowing like guardians in the back.

Worse. They discovered capitalism.

When they pulled into the driveway, Lumi stirred, blinking groggily. “Did we… get the curtains?”

“Green ones. To match the rug.”

“And the… skateboard shelves?”

“Looking dangerously cool.”

They yawned, hugging the jacket tighter. “S’good.”

He reached over, squeezing their hand. “Ready to turn your room into a dopamine bomb?”

They smiled, small but sure. “Yeah.”

Inside, the house waited—once completely beige walls ready to bleed colour, blank ceilings begging for neon suns. J-Hope carried Lumi’s bags upstairs, step by step, heartbeat by heartbeat.

Their mother would’ve loved this.

She’d have loved them.

[autoversemobility]

A Comprehensive Guide to Purchasing Car Parts Online: Tips and Tricks

The convenience and low cost of purchasing auto components online have made this vehicle maintenance and repair method a popular choice among modern car owners. But finding your way around the enormous internet marketplace for auto parts can be challenging. This post will give you some basic pointers when you purchase car parts online.

Know Your Vehicle's Details

Get to know your vehicle inside and out before you begin searching to purchase car parts online. The year, model, manufacturer, and kind of engine are all part of this. The search filters of many online car parts suppliers require this information to match you with the relevant items. Additionally helpful is having your vehicle's identification number (VIN) on hand, as it records your vehicle's detailed specs.

Research and Compare Retailers

Online stores offering auto parts are plentiful, and you may find a wide variety of brands, pricing, and levels of customer care at each one. It's a good idea to check out several sites to compare pricing and read reviews from other customers. You may learn much about a store's credibility and trustworthiness by checking with the Better Business Bureau.

Get to Know the Parts' Details and Their Quality

You can't just purchase car parts online. Although they tend to be pricier, OEM (Original Equipment Manufacturer) parts manufactured by the car's maker ensure a flawless fit and optimal performance. Different manufacturers create aftermarket parts, meaning their quality and price points can differ. Some aftermarket components are high quality, and some must be up to scratch. Ensure you get a high-quality part by checking its specs and reading reviews.

Check for Compatibility

Verifying the part's compatibility with your vehicle is an essential first step when you purchase car parts online. Verify the part number matches your car's specifications. Even though compatibility checkers are available at many internet retailers, it's wise to check with your owner's handbook or a mechanic, just in case.

Find the Return Policy and Warranties

For added peace of mind and protection against flaws, look for warranties on parts sold by reputable online sellers. Be sure to read the return policy thoroughly before buying anything. A reasonable return policy is of the utmost importance in the event that you receive a damaged or incorrectly ordered part. Know that there may be a restocking fee and certain return conditions.

Think About How Much and How Long It Will Take to Ship

There is a wide range of stores regarding shipping charges and delivery dates. Even if you find a lower price on a part, you might not be able to justify the high shipping costs if certain companies provide free shipping above a particular threshold. You should also consider the delivery time, mainly if the part is an emergency when you purchase car parts online. You can get fast shipping choices from several stores for a little extra money.

Conclusion

When you learn about your options and adhere to these guidelines, buying auto parts online may be a practical and economical choice. For a good purchase, it's important to know your vehicle's characteristics, compare vendors, grasp part specs, and check for warranties and return policies. By using these tactics to keep your car in top shape, you may avoid the trouble of going to a brick-and-mortar store.

[loans-provider]

Delhi, It’s Time to Drive Your Dream—Here’s the Car Loan Guide You Needed!

In a fast-paced city like Delhi, owning a car is not just a luxury—it’s often a necessity. Whether you're commuting to work, traveling with family, or running errands, having your own vehicle can make life more convenient and comfortable. However, buying a car, especially in a metro city, can be financially demanding. That’s where a car loan comes in to help you bridge the gap between your dreams and your budget.

In today’s digital era, applying for a car loan online in Delhi has become easier, faster, and more convenient than ever. In this guide, we’ll walk you through everything you need to know—from the online application process to understanding how car loan disbursement in Delhi works, and how a trusted company like Loanswala can simplify the entire experience.

Why Choose Car Loan Online in Delhi?

With digital financial services on the rise, many people in Delhi now prefer the convenience of applying for a car loan online rather than going through the traditional, time-consuming process at a bank branch.

Here are the key reasons to go online:

Speed and Convenience: You can apply from the comfort of your home at any time—24/7 access to car loan applications.

Minimal Paperwork: Many platforms, including Loanswala, offer a simplified document submission process, often requiring only basic KYC documents.

Quick Approvals: Online loan platforms use automated systems to verify your details and provide quick loan approvals, sometimes within hours.

Transparency: You can easily compare interest rates, loan tenure, and EMI options to find what suits you best.

Secure Processing: Trusted platforms ensure that your personal and financial information is encrypted and safe from unauthorized access.

How to Apply for a Car Loan Online in Delhi

If you're looking to apply for a car loan online in Delhi, here are the general steps you need to follow:

Step 1: Choose the Right Lender

Start by comparing loan offers from different banks and NBFCs (Non-Banking Financial Companies). Look for the ones with competitive interest rates, flexible repayment tenure, and low processing fees. You can use a platform like Loanswala that aggregates loan offers from top lenders in Delhi, making comparison easier.

Step 2: Check Your Eligibility

Most lenders have a set of eligibility criteria, which usually includes:

Age between 21 and 60 years

A stable income source (salaried or self-employed)

Good credit score (usually above 700)

Residential and employment stability

Loanswala provides a free eligibility checker tool that lets you know which lenders are likely to approve your application based on your profile.

Step 3: Submit the Online Application

Once you've chosen the lender, fill out their online application form. You’ll be asked to provide:

Personal details (Name, DOB, PAN, etc.)

Employment and income details

Desired loan amount and tenure

Car model and on-road price

Step 4: Upload Documents

Typical documents required include:

PAN Card

Aadhar Card/Address Proof

Salary slips (for salaried) or ITR (for self-employed)

Bank statements

Quotation or proforma invoice of the car

Loanswala ensures that the document upload process is seamless and mobile-friendly.

Understanding Car Loan Disbursement in Delhi

Once your loan application is approved, the next important step is car loan disbursement.

What is Car Loan Disbursement?

This refers to the stage when the lender releases the loan amount to the car dealer or to your account (depending on the arrangement). In Delhi, most lenders directly disburse the loan to the authorized dealership from where you are purchasing the vehicle.

Car Loan Disbursement in Delhi: Key Points

Timeline: Disbursement typically happens within 1 to 3 working days after approval and document verification.

Dealer Tie-Ups: Many lenders and platforms like Loanswala have tie-ups with leading car dealerships across Delhi for faster processing.

Loan Agreement: Before disbursement, you’ll be asked to digitally sign a loan agreement.

Down Payment: If you’re not going for 100% financing, you’ll need to pay the down payment directly to the dealer.

RC & Insurance: Post disbursement, registration of the vehicle and insurance is initiated.

Loanswala keeps you updated at every stage of car loan disbursement in Delhi, ensuring complete transparency and real-time tracking.

Features of Car Loans Available Through Loanswala

Whether you’re buying a new car or a pre-owned one, Loanswala offers a variety of loan options tailored for Delhi residents:

Loan Amount: Up to 100% of the car’s on-road price

Tenure: 1 to 7 years

Interest Rates: Starting as low as 7.5% p.a. (depending on eligibility)

Processing Fee: Competitive and often negotiable

Prepayment Option: Available with minimal or no foreclosure charges

Loanswala not only connects you to top lenders but also helps you negotiate better deals through its vast industry network.

Tips to Get the Best Car Loan Online in Delhi

Maintain a Good Credit Score: A high CIBIL score increases your chances of approval and better interest rates.

Compare Before You Commit: Use platforms like Loanswala to evaluate multiple lenders side-by-side.

Negotiate with the Dealer: Some dealers may offer manufacturer-sponsored finance deals—check if they’re more beneficial.

Opt for Shorter Tenure: While longer tenures reduce EMI, shorter ones can save on total interest outgo.

Look for Seasonal Offers: Many lenders and dealers run limited-period offers during festivals or year-end clearance.

Why Choose Loanswala for Car Loans in Delhi?

With a strong digital presence and a dedicated team of loan experts, Loanswala has quickly emerged as a trusted name for car loan online in Delhi. Here’s why they stand out:

One-Stop Solution: Compare, apply, and track your loan—all in one place.

Expert Assistance: Personalized loan advisory to guide you through every step.

Fast Approvals: Streamlined processes for faster decisions and quick car loan disbursement in Delhi.

Strong Lender Network: Tie-ups with top banks and NBFCs ensure you get the best deals.

User-Friendly Interface: Mobile-optimized site with smart tools like EMI calculator and eligibility checker.

Final Thoughts

Getting a car loan online in Delhi is no longer a complicated process. With digital platforms like Loanswala, you can experience a smooth and hassle-free journey from application to car loan disbursement in Delhi. Whether you're buying your first car or upgrading to a newer model, Loanswala ensures that financing your car is as convenient as driving it.

If you're ready to take the next step toward car ownership, explore your options on Loanswala today—and drive your dream car home with confidence.

[autobgloaustralia]

Illuminate Your Ride: The Ultimate Guide to Buying LED Tail Lights Online

Whether you're a car enthusiast, a safety-conscious driver, or someone simply looking to upgrade the aesthetics of your vehicle, LED tail lights are a game-changer. These sleek, modern lights not only make your car stand out but also offer greater visibility and energy efficiency. With the rise of e-commerce, buying LED tail lights online has become more convenient than ever. But with so many choices available, how do you pick the right ones? In this blog, we’ll dive into the world of LED tail lights and explore everything you need to know before clicking that "Buy Now" button.

Why Choose LED Tail Lights?

Before we talk about buying LED tail lights online, let’s break down why they’re worth your attention:

1. Energy Efficiency

LEDs consume significantly less power compared to traditional incandescent bulbs. This means less strain on your vehicle’s battery and electrical system.

2. Longer Lifespan

LED tail lights can last up to 50,000 hours. That’s several years of hassle-free use, reducing the frequency and cost of replacements.

3. Instant Illumination

LEDs light up faster than traditional bulbs, which can be a crucial safety factor when braking. That split-second advantage could help prevent rear-end collisions.

4. Modern Aesthetics

Let’s face it—LEDs just look better. Whether you’re going for a sleek, high-tech appearance or something bold and eye-catching, LEDs have a wide range of designs and effects to suit your style.

Buying LED Tail Lights Online: Benefits

The online marketplace offers a wide variety of LED tail lights, but that’s not the only reason to shop digitally. Here are the key advantages of buying LED tail lights online:

1. Variety and Customization

From clear lens to smoked lens, from red LEDs to multi-color options, the choices are endless online. You can even find tail lights specific to your car’s make and model for a perfect fit.

2. Competitive Pricing

Online retailers often offer lower prices than brick-and-mortar auto parts stores. With frequent discounts and bundle deals, you’re more likely to find a bargain.

3. Customer Reviews

One of the biggest perks of shopping online is the ability to read user reviews. These insights can help you understand product quality, ease of installation, and compatibility.

4. Convenience

Skip the traffic and long lines. Shopping for LED tail lights online allows you to browse and compare products from the comfort of your home, anytime.

What to Look for When Buying LED Tail Lights Online

Choosing the right set of tail lights is more than just picking a cool design. Here are some crucial factors to consider:

1. Compatibility

Make sure the LED tail lights are designed for your specific vehicle make, model, and year. Many online shops offer a compatibility checker—don’t skip it!

2. Quality and Certification

Look for lights that meet DOT (Department of Transportation) or SAE (Society of Automotive Engineers) standards. These certifications ensure the product is road-legal and safe to use.

3. Warranty

A good warranty is a sign that the manufacturer stands behind their product. Always check the warranty period and return policy before purchasing.

4. Installation Requirements

Some LED tail lights are plug-and-play, while others may require additional wiring or adapters. If you’re a DIY enthusiast, make sure to read installation reviews and check if you’ll need extra tools.

5. Waterproof and Weatherproof Features

Your tail lights are exposed to all kinds of weather. Choose models that are sealed and rated IP67 or higher for long-lasting performance.

Top Websites to Buy LED Tail Lights Online

To make your shopping experience easier, here are some trusted platforms where you can confidently buy LED tail lights online:

Amazon – Great for variety, fast shipping, and extensive customer reviews.

eBay – Perfect for hunting down rare or custom models.

CarID.com – A specialized auto parts website with in-depth specs and vehicle compatibility tools.

AutoZone – Offers both online ordering and in-store pickup.

LEDGlow.com – Known for premium-quality lighting upgrades and kits.

Always ensure the seller has good ratings and reviews, and don’t hesitate to ask questions if you’re unsure about compatibility or specs.

Installation Tips for DIY Enthusiasts

If you're buying LED tail lights online and planning to install them yourself, here are some basic steps to guide you:

Disconnect the battery – Always start by disconnecting the negative terminal to avoid any short circuits.

Remove the old tail lights – Usually involves removing screws or clips.

Plug in the new LED lights – For plug-and-play models, simply connect the harness. For others, follow the wiring instructions carefully.

Test the lights – Make sure the brake, signal, and reverse lights are all functioning.

Reattach panels and screws – Once everything works, secure the new tail lights in place.

For more complex installations, especially those requiring wiring modifications, consider getting professional help.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Ignoring compatibility – Always check if the lights fit your specific vehicle.

Going for the cheapest option – Low-quality LEDs may burn out quickly or fail prematurely.

Skipping reviews – Customer feedback can save you from making a poor purchase.

Not checking local laws – Some states have restrictions on tail light colors and brightness. Stay street legal!

Final Thoughts

Upgrading to LED tail lights isn’t just a cosmetic enhancement—it’s a smart move for safety, efficiency, and long-term value. Thanks to online shopping, you can explore a wide range of styles, brands, and price points from the comfort of your home. Just remember to do your research, read reviews, and double-check compatibility before you buy LED tail lights online.

[finiscope]

Car Loans in East Delhi: Easy & Affordable Financing with Finiscope

Buying a car is a dream for many, but not everyone has the funds to pay for it upfront. That’s where Finiscope steps in! If you're looking for hassle-free car loans in East Delhi, Finiscope offers the best financing solutions to help you drive home your dream car with ease.

Why Choose Finiscope for Car Loans in East Delhi?

At Finiscope, we understand that every car buyer has unique financial needs. Our loan services come with several advantages:

🚗 Quick Approvals: Minimal paperwork and instant processing. 🚗 Low-Interest Rates: Competitive rates to make car ownership affordable. 🚗 Flexible Tenure: Choose a repayment plan that suits your budget. 🚗 High Loan Amounts: Get financing for up to 100% of the car’s on-road price. 🚗 Easy Documentation: Simple and transparent process.

Eligibility Criteria for a Car Loan with Finiscope

To qualify for a car loan in East Delhi with Finiscope, you need to meet the following criteria:

✔ Age: 21 to 65 years ✔ Income Proof: Salaried or self-employed with stable earnings ✔ Credit Score: 700+ preferred for the best interest rates ✔ Employment Status: At least 1 year in the current job or business ✔ Down Payment: Some cases may require a minimal upfront payment

Documents Required for a Car Loan

To ensure a smooth loan approval process, keep these documents ready:

Identity Proof: Aadhar, PAN, or Voter ID

Address Proof: Utility bill, rental agreement, or passport

Income Proof: Salary slips, IT returns, or bank statements

Car Invoice & Dealer Quotation

How to Apply for a Car Loan in East Delhi with Finiscope

Applying for a car loan with Finiscope is a seamless process:

1️⃣ Check Your Eligibility: Use our online eligibility checker. 2️⃣ Submit Documents: Upload your KYC, income proof, and car details. 3️⃣ Loan Approval: Get quick approval with a customized repayment plan. 4️⃣ Disbursement: The loan amount is credited directly to the dealer, and you’re ready to drive!

Why Finiscope is the Best Choice for Car Loans in East Delhi

✅ Zero Hidden Charges: Transparent policies with no hidden fees. ✅ Custom EMI Plans: Adjust repayment schedules as per your convenience. ✅ Doorstep Services: We bring banking to you—no need to visit a branch. ✅ Trusted by Thousands: Our customers vouch for our fast, reliable, and customer-friendly services.

If you're searching for car loans in East Delhi, Finiscope makes the process quick, easy, and affordable. Whether you're a first-time buyer or upgrading to a new model, we offer the best financing solutions to help you hit the road without financial stress.

Get in touch with Finiscope today and drive home your dream car hassle-free!

[hostingcreate]

Top Taxi Transfer Services in London

Top Taxi Transfer Services in London

London, one of the world's most visited cities, is served by four major airports: Heathrow, Gatwick, Stansted, and Luton. For travelers arriving at these airports, finding reliable and comfortable taxi transfers services to the city center is crucial both as time and comfort. We recommend  the top taxi transfer services and taxi transfers available from each of London's airports ( LHR, LGW, LTN, STN), highlighting the best ways to travel from these gateways to the heart of London.

1. Taxi Transfer Heathrow Airport (LHR)

As London's busiest airport, Heathrow airport offers a variety of taxi transfer options:

London Black Cabs: These iconic taxis are available at designated ranks outside each terminal. They're metered, reliable, and drivers are known for their extensive knowledge of London's streets.

Twelve Transfers, top private and highly professional taxi Heathrow airport transfers with competitive prices and terminal pickup included

Addison Lee: A popular pre-booked service offering fixed fares and a fleet of high-quality vehicles. They provide meet-and-greet services and can be booked in advance online or via their app.

Uber: Available for pick-up at designated areas, Uber offers various vehicle classes to suit different budgets and group sizes.

Best for: Those who prefer traditional services (Black Cabs) or want the convenience of pre-booking (Addison Lee, Uber).

2. Gatwick Airport taxi (LGW)

Located further from central London, Gatwick has several excellent taxi transfer options:

Airport Cars Gatwick: An official partner of Gatwick Airport, offering pre-booked services with meet-and-greet options and fixed fares.

Twelve Transfers, great solution for fast taxi transfers from Gatwick to London with competitive taxi fees for this route.

Checker Cars: Another official airport partner, providing reliable transfer services with a range of vehicle types.

Gatwick Airport Taxis: A reputable local company offering competitive rates and professional drivers.

Best for: Travelers who appreciate the peace of mind that comes with using official airport partners.

3. Stansted Airport taxi (STN)

Despite being the farthest from central London, Stansted offers efficient taxi transfer services:

Twelve Transfers, get a fast and professional taxi transfer from Stansted to London with a great price option for a taxi .

24x7 Stansted: A well-regarded local company offering fixed fares and a variety of vehicle options.

A1 Cars Stansted: Known for their reliability and competitive pricing, they offer both standard and executive services.

Stansted Airport Cars: Another reputable local provider with a good track record for punctuality and customer service.

Best for: Those looking for cost-effective options for the longer journey into London.

4. Taxi Luton Airport (LTN)

Luton Airport, though smaller, still offers quality taxi transfer services:

Twelve Transfers, yout one stop taxi transfer from low cost taxi transfer Luton to London.

Addison Lee: Also operates from Luton, offering their signature reliable service and fixed fares.

Luton Airport Taxis: The official taxi service of the airport, providing a meet-and-greet service and competitive rates.

Skyline Taxis: A local company with a strong reputation for reliability and good value.

Best for: Travelers who prefer local knowledge (Twelve Transfers, Skyline) or the familiarity of a larger brand (Addison Lee or Uber).

London taxi transfer conclusion

When choosing a taxi transfer service from any of London's airports, consider factors such as price, reliability, vehicle type, and whether you prefer to pre-book or hire on arrival. Each airport offers a range of options to suit different preferences and budgets.

For the best taxi transfer experience:

Research and compare prices in advance

Consider pre-booking for peace of mind

Look for meet-and-greet services if you're unfamiliar with the airport

Check reviews from other travelers

Ensure the company is licensed and regulated

By choosing a reputable taxi transfer service, you can start your London adventure with a comfortable and stress-free journey from the airport to your destination in the city.

[themesfores]

Book Your Travel – Online Booking WordPress Theme v8.19.2

https://themesfores.com/product/book-your-travel-online-booking-wordpress-theme/ Book Your Travel – Online Booking WordPress Theme v8.19.2 Book Your Travel was the first WordPress travel booking theme on ThemeForest and has kick-started a revolution in WordPress travel themes. Book Your Travel – Online Booking WordPress Theme Book Your Travel Theme Features Destinations: connect all of your services and deals in one place and display additional, useful travel information – great for SEO Availability Checker: accurate search tools and date blocking Online Payments: accept bookings online with 78+ payment gateways supported Multi Currency Ready: set pricing and collect payments in multiple currencies with WOOCS or WooCommerce Multilingual. Inquiry x%x Reservations: fully editable forms for offline booking management (optional) Room Booking: for hotels, hostels, bed and breakfasts, inns, guest houses etc. Single Property Booking: for villas, apartments, chalets, houses etc. Tour Booking: for tours, trips, vacations, expeditions etc. Rent A Car Booking: including pick up and drop off locations Cruise Booking: complete cruise cabins / staterooms management and booking Travel Agency mode: easily cross-sell any of the services listed above Deposits / Partial payments: let users pay only a percentage ( ) of the price to guarantee their booking Marketplace: let users to sell and manage their properties, tours, car rentals and/or cruises on your site Affiliate Links Support: drive traffic to your website and earn affiliate commission Search Box Designer: easily create your own search boxes to fit your content and business model 100% Responsive: fully responsive and works flawlessly on any device Drag & Drop Page Builder: create any layout in minutes! No coding skills required Review System: allow users to leave reviews on your site after they complete their bookings Seasonal Pricing: charge different prices for different times of the year Flexible Booking Rules: various pricing options for each module Surcharges & Extras: optional or mandatory, with various pricing settings and module associations Booking Emails: confirmation emails are sent to all parties involved User Dashboard: allow users to edit their profile data, see past bookings, reviews and more Please note that any digital products presented on this website do not contain malicious code, viruses or advertising. https://themesfores.com/product/book-your-travel-online-booking-wordpress-theme/ #Travel #WordpressTheme

[thebeepaustralia]

Find the Best Car Deals with Online Comparison Tools 

Navigating the world of car shopping can feel overwhelming with countless options at your fingertips. From sleek sedans to versatile SUVs, understanding what fits your needs and budget requires accurate, reliable information.  

That’s where tools to compare cars online come into play, making your search not just efficient but incredibly convenient. By leveraging a car price checker and an auto car comparison platform, you can now find the perfect car without the headache of showroom visits or guesswork. 

The Beep Australia simplifies this process by offering a user-friendly platform that brings together data from over 40 brands and more than 1,000 models. It’s your ultimate companion for researching new cars, allowing you to compare specifications, track prices, and find the best deals—all in one place. 

What makes The Beep Australia stand out?  Here are some great features that elevate your car-buying experience: 

Free access to the latest car prices and specifications. 

Comprehensive comparison tools to assess multiple models side by side. 

Up-to-date data from trusted manufacturers. 

Easy-to-use filters to narrow down your options based on budget, preferences, and more. 

A hassle-free way to track price changes before making your purchase.  

Whether you’re buying your first car or upgrading to a newer model, taking advantage of advanced car comparison tools helps you make informed decisions. Start exploring The Beep Australia’s platform today to simplify your car-buying process and find the best deals effortlessly. For more information, visit us at: https://thebeep.com.au/price-tracker/state/ACT?make=All&model=All&grade=All&state=ACT&timeline=1Y&filterType=model.  

[markmiller97568]

Buy Premium-Quality Used Engines Online in the US from Top Auto Dealers

The old car that is no longer roadworthy is often left useless in the garage or sold to wreckers or scrappers who dismantle it and sell parts separately. The best quality old engines are often left as useless while they are the most crucial part to breathe new life into damaged cars or vehicles. If your car is no longer roadworthy due to an accident or issue related to the engine, you can replace it with one of the best quality used engines near me. The top and recognized dealers of used engines provide you with the best models with a complete guide. They manage large inventories of used engines online nationwide. In this way, they ensure delivery to your mechanic’s address instantly. Replacing the damaged engine with the best quality used engines is an economical way to keep your old car roadworthy.

The Top Dealers of Used Engines Check Engines Step-by-Step

You have to search for the top auto recycling units or dealers of used engines, choose the best one, check the deals (Used engine for sale), and place an order. The top auto dealers collect engines from varied sources like Junkyards, scrappers, wreckers, and sometimes directly from the vehicle owners. They check each part of the engine carefully and replace the damaged one (if required) to improve the performance and lifecycle. They check engines for leakage, oil, scratches, and other wear and tear. Their main motive is to deliver the best quality engine at affordable rates.

Used Engine Near Me – a One-Stop Recognized Dealer of Premium Quality Used Engines in the US

When you have decided to buy high-performance used engines for an old car/SUV/any vehicle, to modify the existing one, or to replace the damaged engine, you need to reach the top auto recyclers who deal in premium quality used engines for all makes, models, and making years in the US.

At Used Engine Near Me, a team of dedicated professionals works with a defined goal and primary agency for using quality engines and automobile part stores while placing orders for old and OEM vehicle parts.

Whether you want to buy used engines online or sell the existing ones, they provide the best solutions for old engines.

The leading auto recycler/dealer of used engines has been giving plenty of scope for new parts, and selling parts to improve your heavy-duty vehicles like trucks, and cars efficiency.

They give you the unique advantage of assembling new and OEM vehicle parts.

You can go for owned and operated full support management with no second opinion.

They have advanced quality used engines that are extensively tested and delivered at competitive pricing. You will buy genuine hardware parts with assured delivery nationwide.

You will get a warranty on the selected used engine for up to 3 years with unlimited miles. Easy return and replacement are other services offered to provide you with complete peace of mind.

Used Engine Models – Choose the Best One

Depending on your requirements, you can choose the best quality used engine models according to your vehicle type. Some of the commonly searched engine models are:

You will get the details of the technical specifications and features of the engines.

Select the Imported Brand Engines in the US

The top auto recyclers like Used Engine Near Me provide you with an extensive range of auto parts and engines for all makes models, and making years. Be it engine or transmissions, you will get the best range online with a complete guide. Some of the top brands are the following:

AM General, Acura, Alfa Romeo, Audi, and BMW

Bricklin, Bristol, Buick, Cadillac, and Checker

Chevrolet, Chrysler, DeTomaso, Dodge, and Eagle

Fiat, Ford, GMC, Genesis, Geo, Honda, Hummer, Hyundai, and Infiniti

Isuzu, Jaguar, Jeep, Kia, Land Rover, Lexus, Lincoln, Mazda, and Mercedes

Mercury, Mini, Mitsubishi, Nissan, Oldsmobile, Plymouth, and Pontiac

Porsche, Saab, Saturn, Scion, Smart, Sterling Truck, Subaru, and Suzuki

You have to choose the best engine model according to your vehicle type, check the details, and place an order. They ensure delivery to your address without any delay.

[autoversemobility]

Important Considerations for Online Auto Parts Orders

Given the convenience of digital shopping, more and more car owners and enthusiasts are order car parts online. Their extensive inventory has revolutionised the car industry and made locating and purchasing car parts easier. There are downsides to this ease, though. To ensure you have a smooth and comfortable experience buying auto parts online, this piece will review five things to think about.

1. Being approachable and truthful:

When you order car parts online, quality and fit come first. If you want your automobile to last and function well, you must choose genuine, high-quality parts. To be sure you're getting the real item, only buy from reputable sellers or genuine dealers. With these vendors cutting out the intermediaries, you won't have to worry about getting low-quality or counterfeit components.

Compatibility is just as important as accuracy. You can enter your car's make and model into compatibility checkers on many websites to determine if the parts will work. Make sure this information matches your car's specs to avoid any mistakes. If there's a compatibility issue, exchanging or returning it could be more difficult and expensive.

2. Refunds and warranties:

Order car parts online still have to be up to code or compatible with one another, no matter how careful you are. It would help to familiarise yourself with the online store's return policy and warranty information before purchasing.

It is common practice for reputable vendors to provide comprehensive warranty coverage. Also, be familiar with the return procedure. Sellers you can trust make it easy and fair to return or exchange items. If a product malfunction is faulty or incompatible with your vehicle, having this knowledge will alleviate your anxiety.

3. No Surprises Regarding Costs:

Online shopping is often less expensive than in-store purchases. Even though they advertise low prices, some vendors include hidden costs when you check out. Be sure to add up all costs, including shipping and taxes, before finalising the purchase to avoid unpleasant surprises.

You can find a good deal by comparing prices on several websites. It is of utmost importance to find a good price-quality ratio. You must consider the seller's reputation or the quality of the car part to avoid regretting going with the lowest alternative. Obtaining dependable products should be your top priority, not pricing.

4. Security and safe online payment methods:

Online risks encompass the safety of sensitive financial and personal information. Shop online for auto parts from vendors that take reputable payment methods like credit cards. To make transactions more secure, most of these methods use additional levels of protection.

Make sure the URL is secure before entering your payment info. Using encryption during trading safeguards your data from unauthorized access. Scammers often employ unprofessional-looking websites that request excessive personal information.

Conclusion:

The convenience of order car parts online has its caveats. If you take the time to research the products, read reviews, comprehend the warranty terms, compare prices, and safeguard your personal information, shopping online for auto parts can be a safe bet. Having these things will make buying online and driving more enjoyable. With these traits in mind, you can confidently navigate the vast online possibilities and make better selections for your automotive success and happiness.

[fashioneditswebsite]

Porsche Celebrates 75 Years With Two Limited Sneaker Editions: '

Porsche 60Y 911 Heritage Sneaker Press Release 'Rennsport Reunion 7 – Mirage Sport Tech Trainers' and '60 Years 911 Collection August 2023- Porsche and PUMA release two limited-edition sneaker collections to celebrate Rennsport Reunion 7 and 60th anniversary of the Porsche 911. The Mirage Sports Tech and Heritage and Retro Sneakers pay tribute to the iconic sports car and the largest gathering of Porsche enthusiasts, collectors, and drivers at WeatherTech Raceway Laguna Seca from September 28 to October 1. Unleash Your Inner Racer and Experience the Pulse of Racing Culture Porsche introduces limited edition ‘Rennsport Reunion 7 – Mirage Sport Tech’ trainers. Shoes capture thrill of the race track while blending with street-ready fashion. Exclusive Porsche branding on tongue, insole, and box. Checkered flag design instills racing legacy. Iconic accent colors red and blue add vibrant touch. Trainers available in black and white. Celebrate significant Porsche event and embody spirit of racing culture with every stride. These two limited-edition sneaker collections are designed to celebrate Porsche’s 75-year legacy of sports car supremacy and 60 years of the 911. Additionally, they offer a unique opportunity to wear a tribute to Porsche’s history on your feet. The ‘Rennsport Reunion 7 – Mirage Sport Tech trainers will be available to order starting August 24 at the official Porsche Design Online Store and Porsche Design stores for a retail price of $150. Moreover, the Porsche Heritage and Retro Sneakers will be available for online order starting September 6 at Shop.Porsche.com for a retail price of $160. Back to the future Porsche commemorates 60 years of the 911 sports car by releasing two limited-edition sneakers. The Retro Sneaker embodies the Porsche 911’s past, featuring a classic narrow suede leather silhouette in a light blue color scheme with red contrast stitching. The sneaker includes a leather flap attached to the side, indicating its limited availability of only 1,972 pairs, and a front tongue with the grill badge from the recently released Porsche 911 S/T’s radiator grill applied to it. The brown leather tag completes the look. The Heritage Sneaker is inspired by the Porsche 911 S/T. Additionally, it has a sporty leather silhouette and a gray hue. The lining is cognac-brown, reminiscent of the car’s interior. The starting number 63 is on the heel as an accolade to the Porsche 911’s birth year. The Heritage Sneakers are limited to 1,963 pairs. The individual numbering is located on the underside of the tongue. The tongue bears the same pattern as the vehicle seats. Furthermore, the Heritage Sneaker showcases the 60 Years of Porsche 911 logo. The logo is in color on the shoe’s tongue and the hang tag. The hang tag is made from the outer leather of the shoe. Additionally, the left shoe has a red lace and the right shoe has a black lace. An extra set of laces in each color is included in the box. The laces have a limited edition number at their tip. The left sock liner’s heel area displays the corresponding start number, either 56 or 63. The right sock liner features a black and white or colored grill badge. The shoe bags and boxes match the corresponding sneaker color. They display the grill badge and start number. Porsche History for Every Style These two limited-edition sneaker collections are designed to celebrate Porsche's 75-year legacy of sports car supremacy and 60 years of the 911 and offer a unique opportunity to wear a tribute to Porsche's history on your feet. The 'Rennsport Reunion 7 – Mirage Sport Tech trainers will be available to order starting August 24 at the official Porsche Design Online Store and Porsche Design stores for a retail price of $150. The Porsche Heritage and Retro Sneakers will be available for online order starting September 6 at Shop.Porsche.com at a retail price of $160. Read the full article

[bestvalueautoparts]

Best value auto parts

Maintaining and repairing vehicles is an essential aspect of vehicle ownership. When it comes to purchasing auto parts, striking the right balance between quality and affordability is crucial. Searching for the best value auto parts ensures that your vehicle operates at its peak performance while staying within your budget. In this article, we will explore some key factors to consider when seeking the best value auto parts for your beloved ride. While affordability is a significant factor, it's essential not to compromise on the quality of best value auto parts. High-quality parts ensure the safety and efficiency of your vehicle, reducing the risk of breakdowns and costly repairs in the future. Opt for reputable brands and suppliers known for their reliable and durable auto parts, even if it means paying a slightly higher price upfront. Investing in quality now will save you money and headaches in the long run. When searching for auto parts, ensure they are compatible with your specific vehicle's make and model. Using ill-fitting or incorrect best value auto partscan lead to performance issues and safety concerns. Look for online resources, such as vehicle compatibility checkers, or consult with experts at auto parts stores to confirm the right fitment for your car. Reputable best value auto parts suppliers often offer warranties on their products. A warranty provides peace of mind, assuring you that the part is free from defects and will function as expected. Additionally, a reliable return policy allows you to exchange or return the part in case it doesn't meet your requirements. Prioritize suppliers that stand behind their products with robust warranty and return policies. Before making a purchase, take the time to read customer reviews and ratings for the best value auto parts you are considering. Genuine feedback from other vehicle owners can provide valuable insights into the performance, durability, and value of the product. Look for parts with consistently positive reviews and high ratings to ensure you are getting the best value for your money. To further enhance the value of your best value auto parts purchase, keep an eye out for discounts, promotions, and special offers. Many suppliers offer periodic sales or discounts, especially during seasonal promotions. Signing up for newsletters or following social media accounts of auto parts stores can help you stay informed about these opportunities to save. When it comes to finding the best value auto parts, a balanced approach is key. Prioritize quality, compatibility, and reputable suppliers over the lowest price. Remember to consider warranties, return policies, customer reviews, and any available discounts. By investing in high-quality, compatible auto parts, you ensure the longevity and optimal performance of your vehicle, ultimately saving you time, money, and potential headaches in the long run. Happy driving!

[thebeepaustralia]

Find the Best Deals with an Online Car Price Checker and Compare Cars in Australia

Buying a car is a big decision, and finding the best option can feel overwhelming. With so many choices out there, how can you be sure you're getting a good deal? That’s where using an online car price checker can make a huge difference. It offers the convenience of comparing cars in Australia from the comfort of your own home, helping you save both time and money.

The Beep Australia’s new car research companion makes this process even easier. It provides free, up-to-date data on over 40 automotive brands and more than 1,000 models. Whether you need to compare specifications, check pricing trends, or locate the best deals, this platform has everything you need to make informed decisions.

Benefits you can enjoy when you use The Beep Australia’s car research platform:

Access the latest information on cars to ensure you’re well-informed

Compare the specifications of different models to find the one that suits your preferences

Track real-time pricing trends so you never overpay

Explore a wide range of options covering over 40 brands and 1,000 models

Shop confidently with accurate insights tailored to save you time and effort

Get Started Now! 

With our easy-to-use platform, your next car purchase is backed by reliable, comprehensive information. You’ll have the tools to explore, evaluate, and select the vehicle that perfectly fits your needs, driving away knowing you’ve secured the best deal possible. Make the smart choice and simplify your car-buying experience today! For more information, visit us at: https://thebeep.com.au/price-tracker/state/ACT?make=All&model=All&grade=All&state=ACT&timeline=1Y&filterType=model.