#Seattle Event Chauffeur

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[so-so-woso]

i wanna be the one | part 1

Edit: Changed title. Thanks to Dru for the suggestion. From the song "Things We Never Say" by the Bad Bad Hats. Great song, potentially relevant maybe who knows.

Summary: Reader is an English-American GK who joins the Arsenal squad and ends up in an interesting back and forth with Leah Williamson. This chapter is mainly set-up for the future. The vibes will probably be very different going forward lol

Warnings: Angst, swallowing self-doubt, and mentions of parental death in the first section.

Word Count: 3,284

London felt just like Seattle. You were expecting it to feel different, more European (whatever that meant), but when you stepped out of the airport and that familiar January rain hit your skin, it was a welcome feeling. It wasn’t quite Home – you hadn’t had one of those in a long time – but it was definitely welcoming, and nice enough that you didn’t bother with an umbrella. It would’ve been hard enough trying to carry one along with all your bags anyway, although by the look on your driver’s face he really wished you had at least tried. It was nice that the team had sent a car to meet you, especially since you didn’t really know anyone here that well, but you supposed they would do that for any new signing. The driver helped you get your bags into the car and then you were off to the club to dot some Is and cross some Ts to make everything truly official.

Wistful thoughts crept into the back of your mind as you were chauffeured through the streets of London, and you decided for the first time in a long time not to fight them. Not here, anyway – not now. Not after everything it took to get you here. Get you here again, technically. You were born in London after all, and raised in Sheffield where your mother had grown up. Your father was an American, from Dallas, who came to England for graduate school and stayed for the woman he fell in love with. He often teased her about “real (American) football” but she converted him to Sheffield United fan, though he would never admit it – at least not until you were born. Match days became a family event as soon as you could stand up on your own, even though you were still too young to really remember anything at that point, but by the time you could run you wanted nothing more than to play. You were always bigger than the other kids so they made you play with the boys, but you knew a lot of the women’s national team players had played on boys’ teams growing up, so you didn’t mind it. You were never upset about that, but you were upset when they made you move to the goalkeeper position when you were eight. It was the boring position and you never got to do anything, but you were the only kid on the team who didn’t seem scared of the ball when it came flying at you, so the job fell to you. Many years later, it would prove to be the right choice, but for a while you thought it felt like a punishment from the universe. Then you found out what that kind of punishment actually felt like.

You were only eleven when your parents died. It was a car accident; your mom was driving. She took the brunt of it and was gone by the time the ambulance arrived. Your dad was in the hospital for two days, but he never woke up. You had been in the back seat. Heavy bruising, a busted ribs, broken collarbone, and a big gash across the side of the head was it for you. You were in the hospital too, for a while. Your paternal grandmother came all the way from Austin to pick you up and take you to live with her. Your mom’s parents had been gone for a while now, and GiGi – what you had called your father’s mother – was all you had left. You had only met her a few times before, but you didn’t really have another option, so across the pond you went.

It would be a massive understatement to say that Texas was different from Sheffield. It was truly a whole different world, but kids are resilient enough. You were famous for a while, because of your accent, and then you were weird for a while, because of your accent, and then eventually you became just one of the kids. Your GiGi was supportive as well, more than you had expected her to be. You didn’t know much of the specifics as a kid, but you knew she and your father had had some sort of falling out and weren’t as close as they had been when he was younger. You always thought it had to do with him choosing to stay in England rather than come home to America. When you got older it seemed like maybe there was more to it than that, but GiGi wouldn’t talk about it. She did help you get into therapy, so that you could learn how to process what had happened and all the big changes that came with it. You didn’t like it at the time, but in hindsight it was probably the best thing she could’ve done. She even started trying to learn about football – soccer – too, because she knew you liked it, and she made sure to sign you up for the local league. You think maybe that time doesn’t heal wounds, but it sort of scabs them over enough that they only hurt when you pick at them, so eventually you learn to stop picking at them, and after that life became kind of normal.

You eventually played soccer in high school – goalkeeper, naturally – and were good enough to get recruited to the University of Texas. From there, the NWSL draft sent you to Seattle for the OL Reign. You spent a season as the third-string goalkeeper, then a season as the second-string, and then were presented with an opportunity you couldn’t dare turn down. It had been Kim Little’s idea, apparently. She had only played with you in Seattle for a month or so, and you never really hung out, but she knew you had grown up in England and that you had really wanted the chance to play football in Europe. She would tell you later that she was impressed with your resilience, something you had heard often growing up, and that you had a “dead brilliant reaction speed” which you guessed sounded good. So when Arsenal’s back-up goalkeeper transferred out and they were weighing their options, she suggested they give you a look. She had said it offhandedly, like it wasn’t a big deal, but you would wager she fought harder for you than she let on. You had only played a handful of games in two seasons, and while you were admittedly good, the offer from the English club still came as a massive surprise. They were up front and adamant about your status as a pure back-up to Zinsberger, and while you would’ve had a decent chance to win the starting spot in Seattle, you just couldn’t say no to European football, to England, to the Arsenal.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a dark car being driven through the streets of north London in the pouring rain. Your fingers fiddled absently at the chain around your neck and the two golden bands that hung from it while you considered everything that led you here, hoping that you made the right choice. Only time would tell, you thought, as the car squealed to a slow stop. You hesitated for a long moment before tucking the necklace under your shirt and moving to exit the vehicle. The driver met you at the car door, an umbrella extended overhead. You were taller than him, so you had to awkwardly bend your neck as he moved to close the door behind you.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, “Then we’ll get you home.” You thanked him and stuffed your fists in the pockets of your coat as you followed him up to the club, your stomach slowly rising higher and higher into your throat as the series of decisions you had recently made began to congeal rather quickly into a hard reality. It was some grotesque mix of nerves and excitement and fear that just fully slapped you in the face when you stepped inside the building. You hadn’t felt like this in Seattle, or on the plane, or in the car, but now that you were here, physically, it’s like everything else was physical too. It wasn’t some amorphous Choice floating in the metaphorical ether of your life; it was a foreboding Presence leering down at you, clawing at your shoulders from behind, and whispering ‘you don’t deserve this’ into your psyche. Nausea began to swell up, to the point you were just starting to feel dizzy. Out of instinct you reached forward and put your hand on the driver’s shoulder, who stopped walking to turn and see what you needed. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but was interrupted by a distinctly Scottish, “Oh ‘ey, Tex!” behind you.

You both turned to see Kim Little striding down the hallway, followed closely by Jonas and one of the other coaches. You swallowed hard, all the torturous feelings slowly fading away as you saw a familiar face. “Hey, Little Kim, “ you retorted. She scoffed and faked a jab towards your ribs before she reached up to hug you.

“Welcome to the party,” she said, stepping back to introduce the coaches, who shook your hands. They welcomed you as well and explained that the evening would be brief, they were sure you’d be tired from the flight, but just needed to finalize some things on the business side and then Kim would give a tour of the facilities. You thanked them, probably too many times, and went with them all to finish your paperwork and pick up your official training gear. Your kit wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow since they’d have to put your name on and weren’t sure what number you wanted (you picked 18 because it was available and made sense for a goalkeeper). Kim showed you around, asked about the flight, and made you feel as welcome as she thought she could. It was nice to talk to someone for a while. You weren’t exactly an extrovert, but you were Southern enough you enjoyed being around people, and being able to talk to Kim, even if it was more or less small talk, made you feel better, and by the time the tour was done all of the earlier feelings were forgotten. You started to think that maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

“So no rest for the weary – first training tomorrow, yeah? Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Since you won’t have a car, Uber’s always an option, but until you get sorted, you can get rides with me,” Kim said.

“Sounds good. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m picking you up extra early tomorrow – the girls’ll want to meet you before kickin’ balls at your head.”

“Well, I guess that’s only polite.”

You both laughed and hugged goodbye before heading your separate ways, you pulling out your phone to look up your new address to send it to Kim. This was a good decision, you thought, this was a good decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your apartment – or flat? – was nicer than you expected it to be. You had done a Zoom tour while you were still in Seattle and it looked fine, but you had tempered your expectations to be safe. Turns out, you didn’t need to. It was a two-bedroom and furnished with the basics, so there was plenty of space for you and plenty room to decorate as you saw fit. You had what was sometimes described as an eclectic taste by your friends, mainly because you liked to decorate with things that made you happy. That seems like an obvious thing to decorate with, but you were kind of – literally – a giant dork, which meant you had a lot of “nerd shit” as your friends would tease. You expected the Arsenal girls would do the same if they ever started coming over, but all of that would be a long time coming. Tonight, all you wanted to do was collapse into bed, which is exactly what you did.

Kim wasn’t lying when she said she’d pick you up early. At least she had the decency to bring you coffee, but she was completely taken aback when you admitted you didn’t really drink coffee and actually preferred tea. “Guess there is some English in you after all,” she had joked as she drove. She asked about your night and how you slept, and pointed out all the important-to-know shops and stops between your apartment and the training center. When you finally arrived, you asked her if she accepted tips for her tour knowledge – to which she responded with “only big bills”. You laughed as you retrieved your bag from the back of her car, and the two of you headed in.

The next few days were an absolute blur. You were introduced to everyone, and they all seemed pretty nice. McCabe kept talking about how tall you were, but from how everyone else acted that was normal. Manu was happy to have another goalkeeper in the squad despite the fact you would both technically be competing for the starting spot, even though you were explicitly hired as a back-up. At least it didn’t seem like there would be any weird hurt feelings or anything there, so you were glad for that. All your other time was spent trying to discern personality types and team dynamics, and also actually training. The coaches had told you they wouldn’t expect you to go full on for the first few days to give you time to acclimate to everything. You thanked them, of course, but that didn’t stop you from diving in head first.

By the time your official day three was over, you wished you had taken it a little easier. It felt like jet lag hit you late, on top of the normal physical tiredness of training. But that evening as the team as the team filtered out of the locker room, Katie McCabe slapped you on the back and said, “Drinks on you tonight, mate!” You turned to look at her, but before you could ask, Kim interrupted with a sharp “Katie–“

“Hold on, hold on! I don’t mean a big to-do, but we gotta welcome the newbie right, right?”

A couple of the other players voiced their agreement and Kim rolled her eyes. “Two drink maximum.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three?”

“Two, McCabe.”

“Two and shots?”

“…”

“Two…and shots?”

“…one shot.”

“Fuck yes, best captain ever! You’re riding with us, Y/N!”

A mix of confusion and amusement spread across your face as you looked between the two of them, and Kim just shook her head and waved at you to go with Katie, so you let yourself be pulled away into whatever the night would bring.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite telling you that you were paying for drinks, Katie was nice enough to only make you buy the shots, and despite Kim’s hesitance at you all going out mid-week, it was a surprisingly calm evening. You ended up sitting at a table with just a handful of your new teammates. Most of them were joking around with each other, teasing and taunting. You sat quietly, unsure of how inserting yourself into the dynamic would come off. You thought of a few quips throughout the conversations, but made sure to hold your tongue, choosing to sip on your beer instead.

“You always this quiet?”

You glanced over in the direction of the voice, inadvertently locking eyes with Leah Williamson. You knew who she was, obviously – won the Euros and all. What you hadn’t known was that she was even more attractive in person. You didn’t even know that was possible, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise.

“Not usually,” you responded, drawing in a breath. “Just can’t get a word in edgewise with this one goin’ off.”

You gestured towards Katie, who didn’t even register the comment. It did get a chuckle out of Steph and Foord, though, which made you relax a bit. Looking back at Leah, she was still looking at you, but didn’t seem to react otherwise. You paused for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before deciding to just go for it.

“So in the summer do you ever get a weird tan on your forehead from frowning so much?”

That did draw Katie’s attention; you could tell from the way she practically guffawed.

“Oy, she’s got you dead to fuckin’ rights!” she said, leaning over to elbow at Leah. The Aussies had laughed as well, as did Kim. Leah didn’t look impressed at the remark, but from the twitch of her lips you would swear she was biting back a smile. She had nice lips. Were you staring at her lips? Your eyes flashed back up to hers and she was still looking at you. She would’ve been able to tell where you were staring. That’s…embarrassing. You swallowed hard, and quickly looked away, taking a long swig of your drink. If anyone else at the table noticed the interaction, they didn’t react. Katie started in on you immediately, dragging you into whatever she had been talking about before, and from there you spent the rest of the evening integrating yourself into the team.

The bar was really only starting to fill up when Kim decided it was time for you all to get a move on. There was some light-hearted grumbling, but everyone was professional enough to know how to behave. You had popped into the toilet before leaving, and when you came out of the stall, Leah was washing her hands. You hesitated for a brief moment before moving up to the sink next to her to wash your own hands, the little bit of alcohol you consumed tonight just enough to embolden you.

“Man, Williamson, what kind of a world is this where you’ve got those legs and no rhythm,” you teased, quickly busying yourself with the most thorough hand-wash you’ve ever done so you didn’t have to look over at her and see how poorly she took the remark.

“You spend a lot of time thinking about my legs?”

You froze. It would seem she didn’t take it too poorly at all. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you turned off the sink and turned to look at her. She was staring at you again. Seemed like maybe she did that a lot.

“Yeah, maybe,” you finally said. She hmmed a bit and cocked her head to the side. The glint in her eye was the only thing that kept you from worrying you were being too forward, and you silently prayed it wasn’t a trick of the fluorescent lighting overhead.

“You think you’re being all charming, with your little jokes?”

“No, not really,” you shrugged. “I think I have the personality of a 14-year-old boy and it’s the only way I know how to flirt with you.”

Leah changed at that. Her posture shifted. Her shoulders dropped slightly. The glint in her eye was gone. You fucked up, you thought. You’ve been here for four days and you already fucked up.

You moved to apologize at the same time Leah moved to respond, but both of you were interrupted by the door to the bathroom slamming open and a group of girls rushing in. You turned around and pushed yourself up against the edge of the sink to get out of the way, but Leah dipped her head down and shoved out past them, taking the opportunity to escape without you being able to stop her.

Yep. You fucked up.

[seattlecarserviceinc]

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[luxury-limo-seattle]

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[chauffeurcarservice]

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https://www.chauffeuranywhere.com/blog/Best-Chauffeur-Service-Seattle

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Finding the perfect limousine for your special event can be a daunting task, but with Destiny, the best Limo service in Vancouver, it does not have to be. Are you planning a wedding, prom night or corporate event? A luxurious and comfortable limo at your disposal can make all the difference. Are you looking for a way to make your special event even better? Look no further than Vancouver Limo Service by Destiny, the perfect destination to find the best limo service in Vancouver for your special occasion. Not only does Destiny Limousine provide you with a luxurious vehicle, but we also offer reliable Vancouver airport limo service. We offer luxury transportation from weddings and proms to corporate events. We have you covered. Our experienced chauffeurs will ensure that your ride is comfortable and stress-free.

Destiny, the best Limo service in Vancouver, offers an extensive range of vehicles, including luxury SUVs, traditional stretch limousines and party buses. Our fleet of vehicles is regularly maintained and updated to ensure that every ride is smooth and safe. Vancouver Airport Limousine Service employs professional chauffeurs trained to provide exceptional customer service.

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Are you looking for a luxurious and stylish way to get to the airport or transfer from Whistler? Then Destiny limousine is worth considering. Vancouver Limousine Service offers comfortable seating, lot of space for luggage, and amenities such as mini bars and entertainment systems. 

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[hookedontaronfics]

Last Call - Part 2

Rating: Mature/Explicit Pairing: Taron x Reader Warnings: Cursing, Plenty of smut [Oral, Unprotected Sex] Find the first part HERE. A/N: Multiple readers requested a second part to my one-shot Last Call, so here it is! I truly hope you enjoy it! x

It hadn’t been a mistake, but you sure as hell regretted it. He hadn’t exactly been your first one-night stand, but the problem remained; you’d always been able to walk away before without much thought. Sleeping with Taron had been an entirely different experience. The problem, of course, was that you now couldn’t get him off your mind.

His charming smile was everywhere you looked, reflecting back to you in car windows as you passed them by on I-5, in the storefront windows as you hurried toward the Paramount, in every cute brown-haired, bright-eyed boy who tried to catch your eye. None of them were Taron, of course; you knew where he was at that very minute, still at the WaMu Convention Center, making his fans happy. You needed desperately hard to figure out a way to not miss him; that he’d gotten under your skin felt both dangerous and dizzying. You couldn’t, wouldn’t be seeing him again, so getting a grip on this little fascination of yours was of utmost importance.

You once again nodded your hellos to your hotel co-workers before taking your place at the bar. Your boss was thankfully not working tonight; you were grateful you’d be working with Dave because he’d not only keep things light-hearted and fun but he was also very gay - no temptations there. Still, since no one was at the bar at the moment, you pulled out your phone and started scrolling through the Taron Twitter feed. Most of what you saw there you regretted seeing; why anyone in their right minds would tweet some of that stuff was beyond you, but there was also a large cadre of respectful fans who had made it their mission to spread Taron’s merits far and wide. 

You were lost in the myriad of pictures when someone tapped you lightly on the shoulder; you nearly jumped out of your skin and banged your shin against the dishwasher. “Owww!” you groaned, rubbing it as you turned to greet your very tan, blonde-tipped co-worker. Dave could have been a California surfer for all his looks, but here he was in Seattle making drinks for the elites. He always said he stuck around because Seattle actually celebrated the LGBTQ lifestyle but personally, you figured he stuck around for his perpetually on again-off again relationship with Joe, the next-door cafe barista.

“Who’s that fine piece?” he asked, having looked over your shoulder at your phone as you’d been scrolling.

“He’s an actor,” you said a bit dismissively, but Dave just kept going on.

“Strong jawline, kind eyes, adorable smile, broad chest,” Dave said, before snapping his fingers. “Mmm, he’s that Kingsman kid, isn’t he? All grown up and ready to -”

“Dave!” you cut in. “Jesus. I get it, he’s hot as hell,” you laughed, your cheeks turning pink against your will.

“Noooo,” Dave said, his eyes going wide. “You slept with him?” he squealed, clapping his hands together.

“Oh my god, we’re not having this conversation right now,” you groaned. “How’d you know?”

“You have a tell, sweetheart, everyone does, it’s totally fine. We’ve only worked together for five years,” he smirked as you covered your face with your hands. “So how’d that happen?” he asked, wanting you to dish on the details. And normally you would, but something about this felt different, so you just mumbled something about helping an overly friendly drunk person up to his room and, well, straight into bed. 

Well, technically against the couch, but who was keeping score? You blushed again at the thought of last night, the sounds he’d made, the way he’d felt inside you- … you had to stop thinking that way or you were going to have a very uncomfortable shift being horny half the night.

“Anyways, Dave, he was drunk, he probably didn’t even remember it, and I’ll never see him again, so…” you trailed off as he looked at you sympathetically.

“Oh, honey, you liked this one, didn’t you?” he asked, and you nodded. There was no point in lying - it was probably written all over your face.

“Yes. No. I don’t know, Dave. He stood up to our shitty boss for me and was kind and thoughtful and he had absolutely no need to be any of those things to me,” you said, getting a far-off look in your eyes. “But it doesn’t matter!” you insisted again. “Let’s just get this work day over with,” you said, needing to focus on anything other than Taron.

Sundays always seemed to bring an interesting mix of clients, and the evenings were usually more laid-back too, so you let yourself ease into the flow of it, and truly enjoyed working with Dave, especially as he rattled on about his weekly sexploits, as he called them; there really was nothing TMI with Dave, but you didn’t mind. Your secrets were always safe with him, and he would always have your back.

“Oh, honey, don’t look now, but there is an absolute dreamboat at 9 o’clock,” Dave whispered in your ear as you were polishing water spots off a clean glass. Of course you were going to look, so you grabbed a rag and moved to that part of the counter, trying to look like you were inspecting a stain as you raised your gaze up - and nearly choked on your own spit when you saw Taron standing in the bar’s doorway, so obviously looking for you. You gave Dave a look and he gestured to you to “deal with it” before going to check up on your clients for you.

“Holy shit,” you said as Taron spotted you and started walking over, the cutest damn smile growing on his face. For just one moment you allowed yourself to get lost in that smile, the way it made his eyes scrunch up. He was dressed simply in black jeans and a black tee, the shirt sleeves tight around his biceps and highlighting them just so perfectly. Oh, he could hold you down with those muscles, you thought, before cringing slightly at that. Thinking those things would only get you hot and bothered with no way to remedy the situation.

“What are you doing here?” you asked when Taron finally got to the bar. He looked slightly confused at your cold reception; it wasn’t your proudest moment.

“You left me last night,” he said, not even a question, and you felt his gaze on you as you dropped yours down to the floor. “I woke up alone and I thought I could deal with that. But the thing is, I couldn’t stop thinking about you at all. You were on my mind all day. I took hundreds of pictures with other girls, but y/n, they weren’t you. I needed to see you again.”

“Well, here I am,” you said, holding out your arms before letting them drop to your side. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re going back to London, I live here. This isn’t a romance,” you said quietly.

“Romance doesn’t have to last a lifetime. It can be just for a single day,” he replied. You looked up at him leaning against the bar, his gaze so earnest and vulnerable it took your breath away. “Why don’t you say we give it a chance?”

“I’m kinda at work…” you trailed off as Dave swung by you.

“No you’re not. It’s a slow night and I’ve got your tables. I’ll even hold your tips for you,” he said with a wink. “So go on,” he grinned, fairly pushing you out from behind the bar. “Go have the night of your life!” Everyone really should have a Dave in their life, you thought as you found yourself walking out of the bar with Taron in a complete change of events. You noticed vaguely that he was toting his suitcase with him; he must have already checked out of his hotel room. Just then his phone started ringing and he looked at it, wincing slightly before silencing it and pocketing it again.

“What was that?” you asked him, a bit suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he said quickly but you wouldn’t let it go. “I missed my flight. My agent is livid,” he said but with a grin. “He’ll deal and I’ll book another flight,” he added with a nonchalant shrug. Of course booking another flight was no big deal to him, considering where he’d been put up last night, you thought. Still, despite being obviously loaded, he remained humble and unassuming, and you really liked that he didn’t flaunt his status, even if he was wearing a watch that probably cost more than your month’s rent.

“So where are we going, then?” you laughed as you both stood there on the sidewalk outside the hotel.

“I kind of didn’t already have a plan. I figured I’d just have to wait for you at the bar half the night, which I mean, you know I would have done for you,” he grinned. “Having time with you sooner is a pleasant surprise.”

“Well,” you said, running your fingers through your hair. “We can just grab a bite to eat,” you said, smiling at him.

“Perfect. And then after that, I’ll take you all the way up there,” he said cutely, pointing to the top of the Space Needle. A part of you wanted to tell him it was just a really expensive and over-glorified elevator ride, but his excitement over it was infectious and you weren’t about to dash his hopes.

You both quickly walked back to your car; you got to drive since Taron had just been chauffeured around Seattle and didn’t have a rental of his own. You kept having to remind yourself that he wasn’t even on your level.

“Pardon the mess,” you said as you quickly cleared the front passenger seat of its accumulation of empty water bottles and discarded receipts. He didn’t seem to care about the state of your car as you dug around the back for an extra shirt you knew you had stashed amongst the various bags and boxes of random stuff. You clambered into the backseat and tried your best to hide from passersby. 

“Close your eyes,” you giggled to Taron as you shucked off your work vest and button-down, even though he’d technically already seen you in a far more undressed state. You exchanged those for a light blue frilly blouse, let down your hair from its clip and touched up your makeup quickly, all in about five minutes’ space, before climbing over the middle console into the front seat. You’d had plenty of practice with quick changes in your car.

“Can I open them now?” Taron giggled lightly, his eyes still actually squeezed shut, and you laughed at that. You had to appreciate his sense of chivalry, that was for sure.

“Of course,” you grinned at him as he looked over at you, his eyes roaming over your body as he looked clearly impressed at your transformation.

“Like what you see?” you asked a bit cheekily.

“Very much so,” he smirked back, sending a thrill through you. You clamped your legs together, fully aware of how much skin your skirt showed off as he licked his lips slightly. But you both kept your hands to yourselves or you wouldn’t be making it to dinner at all.

You both pulled up Google on your phones and tried to decide on a place; finally, you suggested a restaurant called The Walrus and The Carpenter that you had always wanted to try. It offered the right mix of fresh seafood and American tapas, as well as specialty cocktails, and once Taron agreed it sounded like a good choice, you made the drive uptown. You were able to snag a table with only a little wait time, and found the food to be even better than you had imagined. The drinks were enjoyable and the company even more so, and soon you had both filled yourselves to the brim with fresh oysters, small plates of peppers, beets, kohlrabi and cheese, and finished it all off with marionberry cake.

Taron paid the tab without a second thought, and soon you both were off to the Space Needle. You’d only been up once before; the views really were pretty, and the few clouds hugging the horizon as the sun was close to setting would probably set off a spectacular view. “What are you thinking?” Taron’s voice broke through your thoughts; you hadn’t even realized that you’d been smiling a bit dreamily while you drove.

“How this has been one of the most pleasant evenings I’ve ever had,” you said honestly, looking over at him briefly, his lovely green eyes focused on you.

“It’s been much the same for me,” Taron grinned, reaching over and taking one of your hands in his. You couldn’t help it; you squealed a little bit inside. You knew that this couldn’t last but you told yourself there was no harm in living the dream for today.

You parked and Taron once again paid, even though you had offered to cover your ticket. You took the ride up, Taron keeping his hand at the small of your back in a sweet manner. No one else in the elevator seemed to pay you any mind. Once you arrived at the top, the views did not disappoint. You both spent some time just gawking at the sunset, the water, the city stretched out below, taking cute pictures together and just having fun. At one point he had his arms wrapped around you and his chin resting on your shoulder, his warm body pressed against you, and you couldn’t stop the racy thoughts rolling through your mind.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, Taron cleared his throat and asked “Shall we go then?”

“Sure,” you said a bit breathlessly. You could only imagine where this night was going to end up. Once you were safely seated back in your car, Taron pulled you in close to him.

“Been waiting to do this all damn day,” he whispered before pulling your mouth to his. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling as he kissed you, soft and slow and sweetly at first. But as you returned his kisses, they deepened, becoming needier, hungrier. One of his hands wrapped around behind your head as the other ran along your bare thigh, sliding up under the hemline of your skirt. You moaned slightly and gave his fingers access to your core, already growing wet in anticipation of his touch.

But then he pulled away, both of you panting, leaving you hot and definitely bothered, but you knew you were still parked in a very public space and getting arrested for indecency wasn’t high on your list of life accomplishments.

“Should we go book a hotel room somewhere?” Taron asked, fidgeting slightly and you were all too aware of the tent in his pants.

“No, I have a better idea,” you grinned, putting the car in gear and pulling out as quickly, but safely, as possible. He’d left his hand on your thigh, but didn’t make a move to distract you any further. Seattle traffic could get scary at times, and you did your best to take the backways you knew to avoid the worst of it, grateful when you finally pulled into the lot of your red brick apartment building on Rainier Avenue.

Taron raised an eyebrow at you once you were parked. “No one has to know a thing here,” you grinned back at him as he fairly attacked you with kisses again, peppering your face with them until you shrieked with laughter at it.

“You are bloody brilliant,” he grinned at you as you both got out of the car. You told him to haul his suitcase up because you had a feeling he wouldn’t be sneaking out at night the way you had left him in the hotel. You led him up to your second-floor apartment, mentally walking through it and hoping there wasn’t anything too embarrassing left out, but despite how you treated your car, your apartment was usually in pretty orderly shape.

“Well this is cute,” he grinned as you let yourselves inside and he looked about him. “It reflects you,” he grinned, pulling your hips into his and making you gasp slightly. “Now… Where were we?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that went straight to your groin. He crashed his lips against yours, no longer worried about seeming needy, and you could feel his erection growing even more, pressing against your leg as he trailed his kisses across your jawline and down your neck, finding a spot that made you weak in the knees and nipping your skin with his teeth.

“Taron,” you whined slightly, but he seemed absolutely determined to take his slow time with you, to make you feel every bit of what he could do to you. You could only shiver in anticipation as his fingers trailed along your waist. He gripped your shirt and slowly pulled it off you, and you were grateful you’d chosen a cute lacy black bra over the boring nude one that morning. His eyes grew dark as he took in the sight, his fingers brushing over the swell of your breasts in the bra.

“I didn’t get to appreciate this last night,” he smirked at you, making your breath catch in your throat a bit as he dropped those heated kisses down to your chest, leaving your nerves on fire wherever his lips traveled over your skin. He reached around you and unhooked your bra, letting it drop to the floor before taking one of your pert nipples in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and making you moan loudly. He pinched the other one gently with his fingers, causing you just enough pain to be pleasurable as he sucked at your breast greedily before moving down your stomach, nipping and sucking spots on your skin.

You never wanted him to stop, and voiced your displeasure when he pulled away for a moment. “Patience,” he smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward your bedroom, but then must have changed his mind because he tugged you toward the bathroom instead.

“Only one place for a dirty girl like you,” he spoke, as you both stepped into the small cramped space. He wrestled with the tub handle, making you laugh as it totally broke the mood.

“It’s tricky,” you giggled, turning the water on to warm up and stepping out of your skirt, standing there in only your panties as Taron rid himself of his shirt and pants pretty quickly too. He pulled you in for more kisses again, before noticing the dark bruises along your hips from the night before.

“Oh God, I did that to you?” he said, brushing his fingers over your hips so delicately it nearly tickled.

“It doesn’t hurt, and don’t you dare apologize for giving me the best night of my life,” you said firmly, as another one of those breathtaking smiles lit up his face.

“Best night of your life, eh?” he asked. “I think I can do better,” he said gruffly, and you moaned again at the thought as you stood there and admired his physique. He was built, but not overly so, and it gave him a sort of everyman quality that could put anyone at ease.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you breathed, and your comment seemed to have caught him slightly off-guard. He tried to bluff his way out of the compliment but you put your hand on his chest and shook your head. “I can’t believe you don’t see it, but you are. Let me help you feel it, at least,” you whispered as you ran your hand over his still-clothed bulge. The groan that rumbled in his chest was enough to set you aflame. You pulled his boxer-briefs down and sat back on the edge of the tub, running your fingers along the shaft of his cock, appreciating what was right in front of you as your mouth salivated for him.

You pulled him close so he was standing between your outstretched legs and leaned in, placing some teasing kisses along his hip bones and down the trail of hair before finally placing a kiss on the tip of his engorged cock. “Holy fuck,” he hissed, his hands tangling in your hair as you licked the vein on the underside. He tried to buck into your mouth but you held him back, smirking at the power you had over him in that moment. There was nothing sexier than seeing a man like this, head thrown back and in the throes of the pleasure you were giving him.

Finally you gave him what he wanted, taking his cock in your mouth, sucking hard as you moved, your fingers digging into his butt cheeks as you let him thrust into your mouth, trying to avoid gagging around him as he sought his high. You could tell he was close when his groans gave way to grunts and you let him slip out of your mouth with a pop, earning you a slight yank of your hair that he still had a hold of and making your eyes water slightly.

“I want you to cum inside me,” you said, your panties thoroughly soaked by this point. You needed him, and you needed him now.

“I like a woman who knows what she wants,” Taron said, still a bit breathless as you stood up and he helped you out of your panties. You stepped into the tub and pulled the diverter valve for the shower, feeling the hot water against your skin as Taron followed you in and pushed you against the wall, biting your lip slightly as his hips pressed against yours. You were all too happy to lift a leg around his waist as he grabbed his cock and stroked it a few times before pressing into you. You’d nearly forgotten how full he made you feel, and you had to hold onto him to keep from sliding down. He had his hands flat against the wall to steady you both as he slowly started to pull out and push back in, gazing at you fully the entire time. It was probably the single most intimate sex you’d ever shared with anyone.

He couldn’t resist kissing you again, swallowing your moans and adding his own as beads of water glistened on his skin. You held onto him tightly, fully overwhelmed as he picked up his rhythm; the angle meant he was hitting you in the most delicious place. You could feel the edges of your orgasm drawing together already as Taron fairly started to pound into you, losing his composure as he barreled quickly toward his climax, desperate for it now. Suddenly and all at once powerfully, your orgasm tore through you, the waves of pleasure making you forget time and place as you screamed Taron’s name out loud. He was barely ten seconds behind you, grunting in your ear as he spilled into you, both of you overwhelmed by the feeling of it as he held you there for a few moments, both of you trying to come down together.

When he was sure you could stand on your own he finally pulled away, spent and totally exhausted but also really, stupidly happy. You would never get tired of seeing that dopey grin on his face. Neither of you said much as you slowly got yourselves clean before the hot water ran out. You had taken a few moments to run the soapy loofah over his chest, wanting to stretch out this time as long as you possibly could before it would all be over.

Eventually you both stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in towels and having to leave the bathroom as the amount of steam that had built up in there was making it hard to breathe. You both dried off and got dressed in pajamas, and Taron pulled you cutely onto your bed with him, having to displace several stuffed animals to fit, which made him chuckle. You laid side-by-side, nearly forehead to forehead with each other, just gazing at each other, still in that post-sex glow. He reached over and caressed your cheek sweetly. You could have stayed like that forever with him.

“Come with me to London,” he said softly, and it took you a moment to process what he had said.

“What?” you asked, a bit in disbelief.

“You don’t seem happy here,” he said, and he was right about that. “Quit your job. Leave your shitty boss behind. You could find work anywhere in London,” he fairly pleaded.

“Taron, I- … That’s not even realistic,” you replied, feeling your heart beginning to race. “I have bills to pay, and just, things I need to take care of here.”

“I could help you with the bills, and I’d be patient. But we could make it happen,” he said in such a vulnerable way that it hurt your heart a bit to deny him again.

“I couldn’t ever ask you to do that,” you shook your head.

“Then call it a loan, if you must. You could pay me rent to stay in my flat with me, for all I cared. I just want you with me. Nothing is impossible. Just imagine it, just try, you and me in London.”

“You are so sweet, Taron, but I hardly know you,” you said, brushing his still-damp hair back. He looked a bit crestfallen until you added, “But maybe we could date for a little bit first, do the long-distance thing.”

“And then you’d consider it?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure, babe, I’d consider it,” you said as he hugged you close and buried his face against your chest. You smiled at that and let him hold onto you, feeling emotions you weren’t used to feeling. It made you both anxious and elated as the night enveloped you both. As you started sliding headlong toward sleep, you wondered how this green-eyed stranger had managed to get so far under your defenses. And the real truth of it was that your last call had suddenly made you hope for a forever.

Keep reading! A third part has been added HERE.

[luxury-limo-seattle]

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Travel should be more than just getting from point A to point B. It’s about comfort, convenience, and reliability—qualities that professional chauffeurs bring to every trip. Whether you’re traveling for business, a special event, or simply heading to the airport, VIP transport services in Seattle, Washington, can transform your journey into an experience of luxury and ease.

[bestlimotransposervices-blog]

How to Know That a Particular Limo Company Is Right for You

If you are holding an event you will realize that arriving in time and with a high level of elegance is as important as the event itself. Besides you want to ensure that your guests arrive to the event at the right time and they will also be ferried to the various parts to and from your event such as from the airports. When a person does this to his or her guests they will have the best moments. One method  of ensuring that you arrive to as event in style is to hire the services of limo transportation companies. The good thing with most limo service providers is that they are willing to offer their services at your budget and you will get a vehicle that suits your financial limitations no matter how tight the budget is. There is a whole range of limo transport companies and knowing how to pick the right one protects you from making uninformed decisions which will later disappoint you. Here are the essential factors you will consider so that you hire the right limo service. Check out the Seattle airport transportation for more insight. First know the size of the fleet that a company has. This is because you will have different guests with varied desires and satisfying them all means that you hire a company that has a large fleet to have customized services for every guest. Further event owners should seek to understand the level of maintenance that the vehicles have gone through to avoid hiring vehicles that will develop mechanical problems when on the road. Second check how much you can get from the limo service that you are about to hire. If you locate an excellent company you will also be provided with a chauffeur. When people are offered chauffeur services it pays to know how experienced the chauffeurs are and their knowledge of the local area. A chauffeur who is conversant with the area knows the routes that do not have heavy traffic and will ensure that you arrive to the event on time. The next factor should be the number of working hours that a company allows for their vehicles to be out. To avoid paying more for the limo services avoid vehicles that are only allowed out for a short period. Further ask the company officials what should happen in the event the event took longer than you expected and you spent longer with the vehicle. Learn more also about Seattle town car. People should also know the cancellation policies of the limo companies. Some companies have stricter cancellation guidelines than others. It is thus good to ask whether you will be refunded and the percentage that you will pay as penalty. In most cases some companies will also offer a particular period within which cancellation can take place. To get limo services that match the elegance and class of your event browse more on this site to see the fantastic packages.

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[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter thirty-eight (mother lovin’ bones)

“The events my death brought were merely the bones of a body that would become whole at some unpredictable time in the future. The price of what I came to see as this miraculous body had been my life.” -Susie, The Lovely Bones

After dinner, Candace had taken us outside to her cute little black car with a Yellow Submarine sticker in the back window. Lars had covered for the both of us before we got our check, saying we had taken a bus from Oswego to Syracuse but we had no idea what was the time. Turned out, it was still early: about seven o'clock. But she offered to take us back home given she needed to be away from the City for a while. It was an offer neither of us could refuse so we climbed into the car, myself in the front next to her and Lars right behind me, and headed off to the shores of Lake Ontario.

The car is warm and dry, and the seats are soft.

All I can think about is how much I'm going to try to have to get her in touch with herself. She's got her fingers wrapped around the edge of the steering wheel: those knuckles are poking out towards me, and the light from the highway is shining onto her bones. I don't know why I'm feeling an itch to kiss her hands, but I want to.

I wonder what she could be lying to us about with those scars, like I wonder where they came from. I hope nothing serious.

But I have it in mind, though. He performed surgery on her. But what kind of surgery? It's got me hung up a bit. And after seeing their house back in Boston, it makes me wonder how he did it much less even do it in the first place.

I nibble on my bottom lip once the first sign for 'Swaygo enters our view. That tugging sensation in the pit of my stomach has turned into butterflies. I'm nervous. I wonder what she's gonna do. I wonder what she wants me to do. I wonder what I'm gonna do.

And at one point, I realize that Lars has been dead silent this whole time. He hasn't even asked her what she's lied to us by omission about. Then again—

I glimpse over my shoulder at the sight of him back there with his feet up on the door handle behind me and his head leaned back into the corner next to the door. He's asleep.

Okay, I'm really nervous now.

Lars fell asleep and I'm alone here with a girl who wants me to give her what for when we're back at my place.

“Okay, so where do you live?” she asks me once I recognize the outskirts of town.

“A little apartment complex—don't worry, I'll guide you there.”

I'm almost put on autopilot as I show her the way to my place. I look up to the sky, to the sight of the orange clouds blanketing the sky. It's definitely going to snow, I can say that for sure now. Soon, I spot the complex and she pulls into the driveway. She turns the corner to behold the sight of my car all by its lonesome under the protection of the garage.

And she takes the spot right next to it.

“You know, that's my car,” I tell her as she tugs on the parking lever.

“That's your car?”

“It's a piece of crap, but yeah. That is definitely my car.”

She switches it off and I turn my head to the back seat again. I unbuckle my seat belt to better reach him.

“'Ay—hey, wake up. We're here.”

He stirs and his eyes pop open to look at me. He then rubs his eyes and lowers his feet from the door handle. Candace climbs out first and I follow suit into the cold moist night. Lars slides out of the back seat and stretches his arms over his head.

She locks the car and that's my cue to lead them both back to my place. I search for my key in my coat pocket once my door comes within our sight.

I unlock the door and we step inside of my cold apartment. Lars lingers there in the doorway with her while I round the couch to turn on the light on the other side of the room. Golden light bathes over us and she gasps.

“My goodness,” she scoffs at me; Lars shuts the door behind them and strips off his coat.

“Yeah, I know,” I assure her. “I live alone but—this is home to me.”

“No, I mean, there should be a lamp here next to the door. You know, so you don't have to walk all the way over there to turn on the light.”

“Uh—that, too. Would you like something to drink?”

“Just some water. Unless you have something else.”

“Joey doesn't drink,” Lars tells her as he offers to take her coat and her purse.

“Oh! Well, more power to you, Joey.”

I pass them and head into the kitchen for a clean glass and some fresh water for my guest and our chauffeur. We still have yet to figure out the secret behind those scars on her body.

Both she and Lars are silent as I return to the front room with the glass in hand. They've taken their seat on my couch; I round the side of the couch and hand her the glass with both hands.

“Oh, thank you, Joey.”

“So what do you think we should do now?” Lars asks both me and her.

“Well, there's four hours left in the year,” she points out. “Let's make the most of it.”

He yawns as she takes a drink. I'm standing there with my arms down by my sides and I want to do something with them.

Lars looks beat, like he's about ready to fall asleep again.

“Happy birthday Scott,” he says aloud.

“Oh, yeah, that's right!” I recall. “Today was Scott's birthday… I hope he had a good day.”

Lars rubs his eyes and groans in his throat.

“The two of you don't mind if I fall asleep here, do you?” he asks us: he's weary, I can tell.

“Not at all,” Candace assures him.

“Nah, man,” I join in. “If you're tired, you're tired. Go right to sleep.”

He yawns again and Candace stands to her feet so he can stretch out his legs. Once he's got his boots off, he does just that and yawns again. He rests his head against the arm of the couch, and I fetch the blanket for him again, and I lay it over his body.

“Bitch slap me if something happens,” he tells us, snuggling down in the couch cushion.

“Of course, of course.”

He rolls his head over on the arm and closes his eyes. I turn to Candace as she's sipping her water.

And then I gesture for her to follow me into my room.

I lead her in there, towards my nightstand. I turn on the light for her to see me.

I turn when she downs the rest of her water.

“So what're we gonna do?” she asks me in a soft tone. “Like how are we gonna do this?”

I sigh through my nose and put my arms around her.

“Are we gonna do this now?” she demands in a hushed voice.

“Just shut up—” I command her, holding onto the back of her head. “—shut up and—kiss me—”

She raises her mouth towards me for a kiss on the lips. Or maybe I'm doing it first. I don't know. What matters is we're smooching each other and I'm guiding her down to the edge of my bed. I lay her down on her back, across the width of her bed, and I strip off my shirt. She swallows as I lower myself down over her.

“It's alright,” I assure her. “We'll go slow. I promise.”

I kiss her on the lips again once, twice, three times: on the fourth time, I bring myself closer to her. I've got my right knee next to her hip and I've got both hands over her shoulders. My face is right there right above hers. She's nervous, I can tell. But she wants me to do this.

“How you feeling right now?” I ask her.

“I need this,” she whispers to me. It's in there: I have to coax it out of her.

“Here—I'll let you do what you want.”

I lay down next to her, right on my back. She lifts herself over me and gazes into my eyes. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she caresses my chest. I can see her eyeing my stomach and my hips. It's driving me nuts. But I have to be patient with her. I'm the one leading her into this.

She's right over my left hip. I push the waist band down so as to expose my hip bone.

“Kiss me,” I command her. “Have at it.”

“There?”

“Yes, kiss me—” I coax her. “Right there—please. God, please. Kiss me—right there. And then do whatever it is that you feel like.”

I relax at the feel of her lips. Such a light delicate touch and one that I hope can get things moving for her.

“So tell me,” I start, closing my eyes and feeling her touch me around some more of my hip and onto the lower side of my belly. “Where'd you get that scar you were—showing to me and Lars earlier?”

“You really want to know?” she asks me in between light kisses.

“Please. It's alright—it's just you and me here. I promise to you.”

“Okay—” She gives me another light kiss right on the bone and then she unzips my jeans. I can feel her poking around and I want to lift my head for a look but this is all about her at the moment.

“If you must pry, Michael inserted a—a chip of sorts into me.”

“A chip? What do you mean?”

“A cybernetic chip. He told me it was to keep tabs on me so I don't run away like Maya did.”

What the fuck.

“He stuck it there right in my chest—because he told me that's where I'm the most vulnerable. But—” I feel her fondling me. “—I took it right out. I don't want that—that—that shit—”

She groans in her throat. I close my eyes when I feel her lips on my head. She's got me.

Yeah. Yeah, she's got me alright!

“I don't want that shit in my body,” she whispers to me in a single breath.

“Under—Understandable,” I assure her. Her lips are soft and I know her mouth can go deeper, but this is unknown territory for me. It was one thing with Lupe, and it was one thing with Dominique. But she's got me with the mouth, and she's got another hand on my hipbone, fondling me down right there while getting me not even two inches from there. For some reason, feeling her touch my hip bone makes me think of that other band we saw in Seattle. Mother Love Bone, they were called. This girl is giving my bones some love.

I feel her tongue running down the side.

Oh, yeah, that's good.

She then gasps and gags on something. She chokes and lifts her head from me. She coughs and I raise my head for a look at her. Panting as if she had been running, she stares at me.

“Was that good?” she asks me, lunging herself onto the bed next to me.

“Yes! What'd you choke on?”

“I tried to go deeper, but I couldn't.” She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “I'm so sorry.”

“No, no, no, no, no, it's okay. I like it when you touch my hip—”

“You're so skinny—it's like caressing bones.”

“It's delicate, though. Like being tickled.” I then frown at her. “So he put a chip in you and tried to follow that way? Jesus.”

“Yeah.” Her face falls at the sight of my chest and my upper arms.

“You have to believe me,” she whispers to me.

“I do,” I assure her. But the truth is I really don't know what to believe at the moment after the fact she explicitly said she lied to us. For all I know, that scar could be from something else. But I don't know if she wants to continue.