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#Car Parking Barrier
1: dc brushless speedgate turnstiles barrier
dc motor speed turntsile barriers is a common door type, which generally consists of door frames, door leaves, door handles and locks. Door frames are normally made of steel plates or wood boards, and door leaves are made from cardboard, plastic plates or glass plates. The door handle is a gadget that pulls or pushes the door leaf open, and the lock is a gadget that prevents the door leaf from falling out of the door frame. There are generally 2 methods to open a door, one is to pull the door and the other is to press the door. The sliding door is opened by the door manage pulling the door leaf away from the door frame, while the sliding door is opened by the door deal with pushing the door leaf away from the door frame.
2: dc brushless wing barriers door
servo motor swing barriers door and dc brushless speedlane turnstiles barrier In contrast, subway flap turnstile door is created to block water circulation through its horizontal position. On the other hand, dc brushless wing turnstiles gates just manages the flow of water by changing the vertical position of eviction. city flap barriers The gate of door is made up of 2 gates that can be moved horizontally to manage the flow of water. dc brushless swing barrier Eviction of doors is made up of a gate that can control the circulation of water by moving vertically.
3: city flap barriers gates
city flap turnstiles gate, also referred to as movable gate, is a flood discharge center that avoids the water level from being expensive or too low. When the water level rises to the set worth, metro flap barrier doors will automatically open. When the water level drops to the set worth, city flap turnstile gates The door will close instantly. city flap barrier door utilizes a water level sensing unit to keep track of water level changes and manages the opening or closing of the gate to achieve the purpose of automatically managing the water level.
4: What's the difference?
servo motor swing turnstiles door usually refers to closing the gate, while servo motor speed turntsile barrier describes opening eviction. metro flap barrier door and dc motor wing turnstiles doors is various from dc motor speed turntsile barrier. It is a gate set up on the water. And dc brushless wing barriers gates and dc motor speedlane turnstiles barriers are gates mounted on the wall.
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pirefyrelight · 3 months
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Ive been riding my bike to work for the past week or so and I've noticed a few things. One, of the two major roads that have bike lanes, both of them are shit and I have simply found an alternative route that uses sidestreets with less traffic, and two, random children on parking garage rooftops wildly overestimate my abilities.
To go into more detail on that second point:
The last stretch going to my work is a just steep enough decline that I've never noticed before when walking or driving, but am able to sail down into a pleasant breeze for about 3 blocks (baring stoplights and pedestrians). The downside, or rather the going up side of this, is that after a long day of work I might as well be climing everest biking home those first few blocks.
And of course, another thing I've noticed, is that no matter which way you're going there's a headwind.
So picture me, last week. 9 hour shift. No sitting down since I got on my bike that morning. Hot as balls but in that way it *could* theoretically be worse? In black pants and t-shirt as is dress code and I haven't gotten into the habit of bring shorts to change into yet. At the start of the summer I haven't been on a bike in at least 5 years, probably closer to 10, I am so incredibly out of shape.
So this goddamn child, this hooligan hanging out on the top of a three story parking garage, sees me battling for my goddam life, going uphill into a headwind and sweating so bad he can probably smell it from up there, calls "do a wheelie" like sir the only wheelie that's imminent from me is being blown back down the hill in such a way the front tires get caught first. The only trick doable from me right now is getting to the top without falling over.
#Pire.txt#I'm not actually mad#I know *do a trick* is just something people say to people on bikes and skateboards#or in a location that looks like they know how to do a backflip#I am mad about the bike lanes though#Even if they weren't shit on their own they aren't even connected to each other#They take up space on the road and for what#One is just painted lines and cars regularly drive with a wheel over the line#And the other road has barriers protecting the bike lanes but the bike lanes are like two times to wide?#You don't need two lanes for bikes on this road#You go one street to the right and you have a more scenic route with a nice wide sidewalk#You go one street to the left and you're actually downtown where all the stores and destinations are#Meanwhile I don't even drive on this particular road anymore since they still allow parking on the side that doesn't have a bike lane#And the street feels so fukin narrow now#'We need to slow down traffic in [this city]' our mayor has apparently said#To that I say shut the fuck up#I know capitalism bad but if you want to tax businesses you have to have businesses#And lately all of them have been going over the boarder to the newer city two miles away#I remember when we used to have corner stores now they're all gone to a new residential district#I also know car bad but people with cars are the ones spending money to tax#Idk sorry this was suppose to be a positive post#I think I've already noticed I'm stronger#I didn't have to stop specifically to push off for momentum at all coming home today#And my leg hasn't shaken while coasting last night or today#I am still panting like a dog and finding intersections newly confusing since I know I'm supposed to stop at stop signs#But cars don't seem to know that and wait for me even though they stopped first and are scarier#I also understand now the stereotype that bikers are pretentious assholes who ignore traffic directions because momentum is everything#I ain't coming to a full stop when I can see from a distance that there aren't any cars coming#Also I don't know if the rules are different when I'm on the sidewalk or the road I should probably look up specifics#Ups and downs to this I guess
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wri0thesley · 11 months
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had that problem yesterday again where our train was cancelled so there was a rail replacement coach . . . but the coach was not wheelchair accessible (slash the driver wasn’t trained on how to load a wheelchair) so they put us in a taxi for an hour and a half. we have got to be costing these train companies so much money
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s2z · 1 year
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Ballan, Victoria, Australia. 2023-04-02 11:53:56 by stuart murdoch Via Flickr: Killing time in Pub carparks. One of several projects, that explore photography as evidence amongst other ideas. Blog | Tumblr | Website | Instagram | Photography links | s2z digital garden | pixelfed.social | glass | grainary | vero | hipstamatic
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lord-westley · 2 years
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Heyy, if you're still taking scent drabble requests can I choose dwalin for the character and my usual perfume is miss dior rose n roses and I'd say I smell like rain and public transport because of the daily commute to work ( I'm too scared to learn how to drive so it is what it is lol) hairspray I use a lot I dunno maybe my scented candles and tea?
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Your scent reminds Dwalin of early spring mornings. Where the air is warm, and the sound of rain threatening to lull you both back to sleep.
It reminds him of the mornings where he has no work, but you do. So he sits beside you at the vanity. Watching as you spray your heavenly perfume on. No words are exchanged during these moments, just soft smiles and pure adoration upon Dwalin's face.
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fionayao2008 · 10 days
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evaa009 · 6 months
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Hampshire Car Park Barriers
Hampshire car park barriers are indispensable tools for businesses and organisations looking to enhance security, streamline traffic flow, and optimise space utilisation.
With their advanced features, customised solutions, and eco-friendly design, these barriers offer a multitude of benefits that can significantly improve the overall efficiency and safety of any establishment's parking facilities.
Investing in Hampshire car park barriers is not just a practical decision; it's a strategic investment in the long-term success and sustainability of your business.
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streetsolutionsukltd · 8 months
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Car Park Gates & Barriers at Street Solutions UK
Discover a wide range of car park gates and barriers at Street Solutions UK. Enhance security and control access to your parking facilities with our durable and reliable solutions. Browse our collection now.
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sweetnans · 5 months
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Bakugo smelling pheromone perfume? I mean, he would go nuts over it.
Like you two just parked the car in front of Kirishima's house (he was hosting the annual reunion of class 1A), and you casually sprayed the perfume behind your ears and inside your wrists while he's stretching himself to get a bottle from the backseat.
"What's that smell?" He says, scrunching his nose.
"Perfume?"
Your best ability is faking dementia. You knew the effect that would cause on him, but that was something he didn't need to know.
"Uh-uh no, it's not like your regular perfume." He crosses the barrier between you and him and gets his nose quickly attached to your neck.
"Katsuki, god, you're tickling me," you say, laughing while he tries to sniff the pheromone perfume out of you.
"Start the car," he demands. "We need to do something real quick"
You are shocked.
"We are already here. We have to get inside. They're waiting for us. " You try to explain containing the giggles. "Do you have a problem or something?"
"Yeah, I definitely have a problem," he says, grabbing the key and turning it in the ignition. "And it's growing fast, so hurry up, they won't even notice that we're gone"
Poor man, he was desperate to get his hands on you.
Fortunately, you only made them wait for thirty minutes, and they absolutely tased the two of you about it.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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davidmarkweb125 · 11 months
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What are the multiple benefits of installing a modern vehicle parking management system
In the latest parking management systems, many advanced security features are available. Therefore, it is possible to prevent the misuse of the parking space. It is also possible to take a note of any suspicious activity in the parking space. With the help of the parking management system. The security arrangement can be upgraded. The car owners also get peace of mind that their vehicles are properly protected. https://www.prologicfirstss.com/blog-installing-a-modern-vehicle-parking-management-system.html
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dc brushless slim turnstile barrier also called gain access to wing barriers gates, which comes from the access control system, is among the important parts of modern entryway and exit control. The door wings are driven by the control system and open and close immediately. The operating mode can be selected through programs settings: As soon as it is confirmed that the individual entering is licensed, the door wings open immediately. It closes after a delay, and the hold-up time is adjustable. Typical dc brushless speedlane turnstile doors are divided into scissor doors (city flap barriers door) and swing doors. (1) Scissor doors are often utilized in rail transit, and common scissor doors are primarily used in trains and other locations. The door wings extend from the within the box, which can effectively seal the passage and play the role of access control. In addition, an infrared noticing gadget is set up inside the door body, which can recognize the purpose of "one person, one card" for people to pass through. (2) The swing door appeared later than the scissor door and comes from the second generation dc brushless speed turnstile barriers. Such dc brushless glass The characteristic of gates barrier is that the door wings run in the front and back instructions. The operation procedure is within the body's view, which is more secure. In addition, because the door wings do not need to be pulled back into the box, The designs of swing doors are more different. Due to the above characteristics, swing doors are typically utilized in banks, corporate buildings, high-end office complex, and so on. Anti-trailing function: There is an overall infrared light band detection location in the channel. The switch state can be adjusted by software according to the customer's accuracy requirements. The application of the light band to adjust to different requirements prevents the shortcomings of point-type infrared detectors that are easily infected and affects the dependability of judgment, and can effectively judge the future. Tag reader who checks out the card. When the system figures out that tailgating has occurred, the system will respond based upon the location of the valid cardholder returned by the infrared detector. After the door opening signal is sent, there are still some unusual usages that will set off an alarm.
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1: servo motor speed turnstiles barriers
dc motor speedgate turnstiles barriers is a common door type, which mainly includes door frames, door leaves, door deals with and locks. Door frames are typically made from steel plates or wooden boards, and door leaves are made from cardboard, plastic plates or glass plates. The door manage is a device that pulls or pushes the door leaf open, and the lock is a gadget that avoids the door leaf from falling out of the door frame. There are typically two methods to open a door, one is to pull the door and the other is to push the door. The sliding door is opened by the door manage pulling the door leaf far from the door frame, while the moving door is opened by the door handle pushing the door leaf away from the door frame.
2: dc motor swing turntsile gate
dc motor swing barriers gate and dc brushless speedgate turnstiles barrier In contrast, train flap turnstile gate is created to obstruct water circulation through its horizontal position. In contrast, servo motor swing turnstiles gate merely controls the circulation of water by altering the vertical position of the gate. train flap barrier Eviction of doors is composed of 2 gates that can be moved horizontally to control the circulation of water. dc brushless wing turnstiles Eviction of door is made up of a gate that can manage the circulation of water by moving vertically.
3: subway flap barriers door
city flap barriers door, also referred to as movable gate, is a flood discharge center that prevents the water level from being expensive or too low. When the water level rises to the set worth, subway flap barriers door will automatically open. When the water level drops to the set value, subway flap gates door The door will close immediately. metro flap turnstiles gate utilizes a water level sensor to keep track of water level changes and controls the opening or closing of the gate to attain the purpose of automatically controlling the water level.
4: What's the difference?
dc brushless swing turnstiles doors generally refers to closing the gate, while dc motor speed turnstiles barriers refers to opening eviction. city flap barrier gate and dc brushless wing barrier gates is different from dc motor speedlane turnstiles barrier. It is a gate set up on the water. And dc motor wing turnstiles gate and dc motor speedgate turnstiles barrier are gates mounted on the wall.
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1: dc brushless speed turnstiles barriers
servo motor speed turnstiles barriers is a typical door type, which primarily consists of door frames, door leaves, door deals with and locks. Door frames are generally made of steel plates or wooden boards, and door leaves are made from cardboard, plastic plates or glass plates. The door deal with is a device that pulls or pushes the door leaf open, and the lock is a device that prevents the door leaf from falling out of the door frame. There are normally 2 methods to open a door, one is to pull the door and the other is to press the door. The sliding door is opened by the door deal with pulling the door leaf away from the door frame, while the sliding door is opened by the door handle pressing the door leaf far from the door frame.
2: servo motor wing barrier doors
dc brushless wing barrier gate and servo motor speedgate turnstiles barrier In comparison, train flap barrier gate is created to obstruct water circulation through its horizontal position. On the other hand, dc brushless swing turnstiles gates merely manages the flow of water by altering the vertical position of eviction. city flap turnstile The gate of doors is composed of two gates that can be moved horizontally to control the flow of water. servo motor wing turnstiles Eviction of doors is made up of a gate that can manage the circulation of water by moving vertically.
3: train flap turnstile door
subway flap turnstiles gates, also referred to as movable gate, is a flood discharge facility that prevents the water level from being expensive or too low. When the water level rises to the set worth, metro flap barriers gate will automatically open. When the water level drops to the set worth, subway flap barriers gate The door will close instantly. train flap barrier doors utilizes a water level sensor to monitor water level modifications and controls the opening or closing of eviction to achieve the purpose of immediately controlling the water level.
4: What's the distinction?
dc motor wing barrier doors normally refers to closing the gate, while dc brushless fastlane turntsile barriers refers to opening the gate. city flap turnstile gates and dc brushless wing barrier doors is different from servo motor speed turnstiles barrier. It is a gate installed on the water. And dc motor swing gates door and servo motor speedgate turntsile barrier are gates mounted on the wall.
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tripodturnstile · 1 year
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three rollers turnstile door from RS Security Co., Ltd(www.szrssecurity.com) Appropriate for all kinds of public places that require organized passage of pedestrians, such as picturesque areas, exhibit halls, cinemas, docks, train stations, bus stations and other locations that require ticket verification; locations that require authorized entry such as factory participation, canteen intake, golf courses, monthly card leisure centers, etc; anti-static control locations of electronic factories, systems that need stringent security steps such as face recognition and fingerprint recognition. RS Security Co., Ltd primarily produces, develops and offers access control products, such as waist height gates gate, metro flap turnstile door, servo motor swing turnstile barirer, translation turnstiles door, drop arm turnstile barirer, full body gates gate, half high turnstile barirer, speed turnstiles door and other channel turnstile door products, and barrier gate, facialface recognition electronic camera, hydraulic bollards, road blockers three rollers turnstile barirer Integrated electronic tickets, gain access to control and attendance, club consumption/catering, anti-static, fingerprint, palm print, face recognition, iris acknowledgment Integrated application of other series of items; complete stainless steel frame structure, Taibang motor, independently developed and produced movement; one-way/two-way gates barirer/ swipe to launch the lever button and the upper lever is optional, with Counting function can understand RS485 direct interaction with the computer; three arms gates door prompts and instructions and alarm prompts; automatic fall of the pole when power is off and manual fall The pole is optional, and it receives the switch signal to open gates barirer; it can be geared up with a card reading control part, and multiple systems can be connected to the network; it can be geared up with magnetic card and proximity card combination approaches; it can be bought according to different functional requirements. Do. A totally rainproof box made from alloy aluminum or stainless steel, compared to the train flap gates gate dc brushless swing gates barirer and other pedestrian passage equipment, tripod gates gate are more cost-efficient. It has a customized setup user interface (such as card reader, indicator light setup, etc) to guarantee that the system integrator's control gates gate devices is basic and practical to set up. The movement of the three-stick turnstile gate maker has actually an automatically adjusted hydraulic shock absorber. When utilizing the three-stick turnstiles barirer operation, the sound is very small and silent. Impact, turnstile gate bar instantly decreases back to center. The surface of the motion is plated with yellow dichromate. Can be configured with turnstile gate maker control, a couple of direction control (set by user). The base is fixed with expansion bolts.
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szrssecurity · 1 year
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Swing Gate Turnstile is generally called a slap door in the rail transit industry. Its barrier body (gate pendulum) is in the form of an airplane with a specific area, perpendicular to the ground, and swings through rotation Implement obstructing and release. The products of the blocking body are typically stainless steel, organic glass, and tempered glass. Some likewise utilize metal plates covered with unique versatile products (to reduce the damage triggered by hitting pedestrians). Bridge Smart Swing Gate Turnstile The more popular name has been inherited from the initial bridge-shaped structure. It includes a main chassis and two movable swing bars. The swing bars can swing 180 ° or 90 ° to attain the function of dissuading or launching. Column Swing Gate Gate The look of the primary devices remains in the type of a column, which can carry out the very same functions as the bridge type Swing Door Turnstile. It is characterized by lower cost and less area. RS Security Co., Ltd Main Products: door, flap turnstile, complete height gate, swing gate, hydraulic bollard, roadway blocker, gain access to control, face recognition, barrier gate and so on. Application of Swing Barrier Gate It is mainly utilized for passage entrance and exit management. Typically, just individuals are enabled to pass through, or people dragging travel luggage, and handicapped people. Thinking about that Swing Gate can attain broader channel qualities than wing gates. Many Swing Gate Turnstile passages can be combined with pedestrians, bikes, mopeds, disabled lorries and other non-motorized lorries. part Swing Turnstile structural composition: Swing Door Gate includes chassis, motion, swing arm, control system, infrared sensing unit, It includes control devices and other parts. High-end brake Swing Gate Turnstile consists of: chassis, brake movement, control system, infrared sensing unit, control devices and other parts (high-end brake Swing Gate is that it can stop quickly and efficiently, there is no shaking, no mechanical stuck structure, and the swing arm automatically opens after power failure. It fully adheres to fire security requirements).
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month
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First of all, I 100% know this is an overused trope... but still....
What If 141 2 people 1 bed trope
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Who cares that it's an overused trope? It's a classic for a reason!
I will never tire of a one bed trope. It can be steamy and sexy. It can be angsty. It can be tense. It can literally be so many things at once. It's also a wonderful canvas to play around, and I had a lot of fun with this one. I know you've waited for this one for a while. I hope you enjoy it! :)
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141 Female Reader
Content & Warnings: swearing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, multiple positions, rough kissing, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & female receiving), admission of feelings, pretend sex, fake dating/married
Word Count: 6.3k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“Fuck,” mutters Price.
You glance over your shoulder. Captain Price stands near the hotel window, the gauzy blinds closed but the thicker ones bunched to the sides, allowing in natural light. He’s staring at something happening in the parking lot.
“What it is?” you ask, starting to walk over to him.
“They might have found us.”
Dread flares hot, clenching the muscles in your stomach until it hurts. “Are you sure?”
Price nods, and then backs away from the window. “There’s no way they saw our faces during the infiltration. We wore masks. Might have tracked the stolen car.”
“We need to leave,” you say, but Price shakes his head.
“There’s too many of them, and they’re likely watching all exits on the main floor.” He sighs. “We need to play this right.”
The two of you are freshly showered, and the clothes you wore for the infiltration have already been discarded. Burned—actually, somewhere in the deserts of Arizona. At the moment, the two of you look like civilians.
“They can’t search the building, John. Not without bloodshed.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze darting across the room as his brain works something over. You fidget, picking at your nails. It’s a terrible habit. One you do when you’re nervous.
Price glances at you and your heart drops. “They look official, and that’s probably all that matters. The scrawny teenager at the front desk isn’t going to put up a fight if the credentials appear legitimate.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, striding toward the window to look for yourself.
Captain Price is right. They do look official. They also look fucking terrifying which would scare anyone into compliance if you don’t know what to look for.
“We’re on the bottom floor,” you say, stepping back.
“I know,” growls Price. He pivots, examining the entire room.
He goes for the car keys and shuts them inside the safe. The only other thing in the room is a duffle bag full of plain clothes and generic toiletries. Price pushes clothes aside and then draws out the pistol hiding beneath it all. He checks the clip and then preps the barrel.
“Take off your clothes.”
“What?” you ask, startled.
Price walks over to the singular bed in the room, tucking the gun beneath the pillows. “Do you trust me?”
“Absolutely,” you affirm.
“Then take off your clothes,” repeats Price, reaching behind his head with one hand to grab the collar of his shirt. He pulls it over and off, tossing it aside.
“Spread it around. Make a mess,” he instructs as he goes for the belt on his jeans.
For a moment, you’re stunned, staring at Captain Price’s bare chest. While he’s muscular, it isn’t from a life in the gym. He is thick in all the right places. A solid wall with a beautiful dusting of dark hair that travels downward.
The belt is gone, and that too is tossed aside.
Without removing your gaze, you tentatively discard your shirt, but keep your bra on. It’s a barrier. A safety net. Price isn’t even glancing at you, but you do notice some color at the tops of his cheeks. A soft pink that makes your thoughts spiral outward to imagine if this gentle blush is the same color as the head of his cock.
Price’s jeans go next, already discarded before you move on to the next article of clothing. He’s only in socks and black boxer briefs. There is so much of him on display that you’re starting to forget yourself.
He glances at you, and that color in his cheeks darken. “You’re still dressed.”
You open your mouth to answer but then you hear a shout from down the hall and sharp banging on a door. They’re far too close.
This urges you on, moving with faster intention, and once you’re down to just your bra and underwear, you finally glance at Price again.
Price—who is naked. Completely bare. And you have a full view of what he’s been packing underneath all that.
Fuck.
He approaches the bed, and tugs back the sheets. The muscles in his arms and back tense as he crumples the bedding to sexed perfection—as if the two of you have been going at it for hours.
Price sits down on the edge of the bed and slides underneath, his legs parting enough that you get a glimpse of everything. This man isn’t even fully hard but from what you can see, it would be a tight fit if you actually sat on him.
Lifting a pillow, Price checks for the pistol and then sets it back, settling into the sheets. He frowns slightly when his attention returns to you.
“All of that has to go.”
“Does it?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.
There’s another thunderous pounding on a nearby door followed by shouting.
“It does if we’re going to make it out of here alive.” Price shrugs, and then smirks. “Could help you.”
Sighing heavily and you reach behind your back, unclasping the bra. You hurl it at him and Price catches it out of the air. Crossing your arms over your chest, you hurry toward the bed. But you don’t make it beneath the sheets.
“Everything,” repeats Price.
Reaching out, Price snags the thin cotton fabric and pulls down, revealing you to him and the room. Instinct as you grasping for control, hands splayed over his large forearms as he gives the fabric another yank.
You cannot form a response. Words leave you as Price drags you into the bed with him.
“Sorry about this,” he grumbles, that color returning to his cheeks in full force. It’s cute actually—how sheepish he looks.
You swallow, and lick your lips. “It’s fine.”
Price leans back against the pillows, guiding you with him. “Get on top.”
Straddling his hips, you settle yourself over him. You try—and fail—to not notice the way the hard length of him nestles against your pussy. You keep one arm crossed over your breasts but all it does is hides your nipples from him. Your other hand is splayed wide and pressed against his chest.
“We’re married,” he says, staring into your eyes. “That’s the story. I’ll do the talking. You act like the scared wife when they come barging in.”
You nod, and Price releases a deep exhalation. His hands rest on your thighs. They’re a brand. Warm. All you can think about. They move upward to settle on your hips.
“Pretend you’re riding me,” he murmurs.
With a gentle hand, Price grasps your wrist, drawing your arm away from your breasts. You don’t resist, and he brings your other palm to rest against his chest.
“Pretend,” he reiterates, hands returning to your hips. Price creates the motion by dragging you back and forth, imitating a rocking motion. Though you’re stationary, your pussy still drags against the length of his cock.
You notice the tremor in his jaw as your bodies rub against each other. This is affecting him as much as it is you.
“Pretend,” you say back to him.
Price nods and then grabs for the television remote from the bedside table. He turns it on and then ups the volume. You imitate the motion he created, rocking back and forth, sliding yourself along his cock, pretending you don’t notice how wet you’ve become over the course of the last few minutes.
His hands return to your hips, and then Price sinks back completely into the pillows, his eyelids softening as he gazes up at you. It’s far too intimate of a stare, and it’s only compounded when one of his hands meander upward to slide over your stomach and then between your breasts. You gasp as his thumb traces the underside of your breast.
Head tilting back, you grind downward, finding yourself diving into the warmth that’s starting to pool low in your belly.
A sharp pounding at the door has you snapping to attention. Every muscle tenses. Seizes.
“You’re fine,” coos Price. “We’ll be fine.”
The pounding comes again and then a yell from behind it. The voice is muffled. Not only by the door but from the television.
Swallowing, you try to connect into it again, rolling your hips, imagining that Price is your husband—that you love him—and this is simply an exploration of that love.
When you roll your hips again, Price sits up slightly, his warm breath brushing against your breast. A tingle shudders through you, and Price groans before his tongue grazes over your nipple, bringing it to a point.
“Knew you’d taste sweet,” he says softly at the same moment the hotel door bursts open.
One second, you’re atop Price, and the next his arms are around you, turning you away from the door to hide you from sight. You’re not on your back but Price has shoved you toward the bed as he sits up, creating a barrier between you and the intruders.
The tactical-clad trio entering the room—with a hotel worker nervously trailing behind—
don’t even get a word in before Price starts going off on them.
“Get out! Get the fuck out!”
His accent is gone, replaced by an American one. It’s incredibly good, and his feigned anger even more so. The men entering faulter under Price’s tirade. They likely weren’t expecting this, and Price uses this opportunity to push the advance.
“We’re fucking busy in here. Fuck off!”
The man at the head of the trio clears his throat and holds up a hand, but Price chucks one of the water glasses at the man. The guy ducks and it shatters against the wall. The hotel worker at their back squeaks and pushes forward.
“We’re so sorry. Just a search for some prison escapees. We’re clearly in the wrong room.”
Prison escapees? You want to laugh but think better of it. Instead, you press your face against Price’s arm, feigning sheepishness.
Price’s lips turn into a snarl, and the hotel worker blanches.
“We’ll give you a complimentary stay for the inconvenience,” the man babbles before waving his arms to usher the other men out.
For a moment, you don’t think it’ll work, but they go.
You and Price don’t sigh with relief until the door shuts. His forehead presses against yours, chest heaving.
“Nice accent,” you whisper and this draws a smile from his lips.
“Like it more than this one?” he asks, his regular accent returning.
“Nope,” you say. “This one suits you fine.”
Price’s gaze draws over your exposed body and then lands on your face. It’s soft. Sensual. You’re frozen beneath it, breath catching as his fingers brush along the line of your jaw.
You’re not sure who moves first but his lips are on yours and then you’re moaning. Price rolls you onto your back, each kiss more demanding and fiercer than the last. He tastes of the mint toothpaste he used earlier and smells of soap.
Reaching between your bodies, you find him hard, and there is no other need within you but the one that craves for him to be inside. To fuck you ceaselessly.
You stroke him and Price groans into your mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat. Hooking your legs behind him, you guide him to your entrance. With a light press of your heels, Price takes your meaning.
There is no gentle pretense. No soft kisses or playful coaxing. Price goes all in, and you break the kiss to gasp aloud, nails digging into his back. Price is thick and having him inside you is a deliciously painful stretch.
It is all desperate the way he moves. Price isn’t gentle. It’s skin slapping against skin. It is sweat and groans. A savage hardness that borders on hysteria.
Your hand reaches behind you to press against the headboard as Price fucks you into the bed, but even that is shaking, banging loudly against the wall. It’s clear even over the drone from the television. The people next door will know exactly what the two of you are up to.
Price is relentless. A man starved. He nips at your bottom lip. Sucks it into his mouth. And when that isn’t enough, he goes for your neck and then your breasts, making your nipples smart and throb under his teeth and tongue.
The orgasm comes sharp and hot, bursting forth like a wave. And when you squeeze around him, Price is right there with you, his cum coating your insides as he too finds his end.
The two of you are all heavy breath. Sweaty limbs.
Price nuzzles the side of your neck, placing soft kisses there until he travels up to find your lips again. These are gentle. Not desperate like before.
When there’s a moment to speak, it is you that breaks the silence.
“So much for pretending.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
It’s the middle of the day but you wouldn’t be able to tell.
A storm is raging—the rain thick and heavy. It falls from the sky in large drops that soak clothes and slick the skin. It’s a bit cold, too. A little chilly. The kind of wet chill that hardens the nipples and brings a shiver to your bones.
“Here. You’re soaked.”
Kyle presents a towel. It’s off-white and a bit frayed. But what can you expect from a motel in the middle of nowhere? Having a towel at all is nice. At least it isn’t threadbare.
“Thanks,” you reply softly, gently dapping the rough-textured material against your face.
Kyle strides over to the heating unit. It’s dirty and barely anchored to the wall. He hits a few buttons and then the thing turns on. It’s loud. Clunky. But heat starts to seep from the slats, warming the room.
After drying your face, you begin to remove outer pieces of clothing. Kyle might be your teammate, but there isn’t really anywhere to hide but the bathroom. Knowing the state of most motels, you don’t really want to find out either.
Kyle has the same idea. He dries off with his own towel, removing soaked articles of clothing as he goes. You try not to look—to be discreet—but it’s hard not to steal a peek. Kyle is all toned muscle and firmness. There’s a light dusting of hair on his chest. It’s a bit thicker around his navel. It trails downwards, and your mind wanders to a place it shouldn’t.
You glance away but not fast enough. His gaze roams upward, finding you, and there he pauses, observing you as you did him.
Pretending is best.
You attempt to act like you don’t notice him at all, turning your back like you’re incredibly interested with the wallpaper that likely hasn’t been replaced in years.
It’s his heat that draws your attention—that steals your breath, and makes every muscle in your body tense with anticipation.
“You’re shivering,” he murmurs.
Kyle is so close. Close enough that his breath brushes against your bare shoulder. You’re just in your bra and underwear, the only items that aren’t completely soaked from the rain.
He inhales, and that exhalation teases your flesh again. Giving in, you close your eyes, sinking into Kyle’s presence.
When you open them again, you notice a mirror hanging on the wall. It’s great if you were trying to plan an outfit, but that isn’t what you notice.
Instead, you see yourself. And Kyle.
The backs of his knuckles lightly caress the side of your arm. His head is tipped forward and turned inward like you’ll turn around any moment to kiss him.
The urge is there. Tugging. Wanting you to do just that.
The two of you are always walking around the other, seeking comfort and closeness but never seizing it. Maybe you should. Maybe—turning around is the best thing you can do for yourself.
“Kyle,” you breathe, and his little hum in answer tightens that string.
Without hesitation, you do turn.
Kyle’s lips are right there. They’re parted slightly. Inviting.
His arm drapes across your waist, hand splaying wide against your stomach, pressing until the two of you are sandwiched together.
It’s not like you don’t want this. You do. You want Kyle. Have since the moment he introduced himself to you. But the two of you have always remained professional in every space you occupy.
And now there is no one around.
No one to see.
No one to know.
Your head tips back in answer, and Kyle leans into it, pressing his lips to yours. It is sweet. Gentle. More of an ask than anything else.
And you reply, meeting him in equal measure. The pressure on your stomach increases just as Kyle’s other hand wraps around the front of your throat, holding you still. Each kiss is a claiming, one you freely submit to.
Kyle is all sugared-warmth, and you want to rot your teeth.
Draping your arm around the back of his neck, you pull him closer. Kyle nips. Bites. Sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before soothing the burn with a few tender kisses. Heat blossoms in your core before morphing into an aching slickness.
You’ve been putting him off—brushing him aside.
Why wait any longer when Kyle is all you crave?
“Fucking hell, love,” he groans against your mouth.
Your lips part, and Kyle slides his tongue inside. His taste is everything, but you want to know him everywhere.
Your hand seeks, brushing against his hardness through his boxer briefs. When you slip your hand beneath the elastic band, Kyle’s only response to kiss you harder.
Wrapping your fingers around him, you start to stroke what you can with the little room you have. Your thumb brushes over the head of his cock and Kyle draws back.
“I’ve wanted this since I met you,” he says, voice a bit rough.
Twisting in his grip, you turn to face him. “Can I show you how much I’ve wanted you, too?” you ask, pressing your breasts against his chest.
Kyle loosens his hold and you drop to your knees, taking his boxer briefs with you. His cock is gorgeous. It curves upward slightly, and a pearly bead of precum blooms in the slit.
He whispers your name, and then you have him in hand. Stroking once. Twice.
You lick off that bead. Savor his taste. Go back for more.
Kyle grabs the back of your head, drawing you to him. You open your mouth. Swallow him down. Throating him until you gag.
“Fuck,” he groans, elongating the vowel.
You work him with hand and mouth, keeping a steady rhythm that has him weak and wanton. You have all the control—until you don’t.
“Let me fuck your mouth, love. Please.”
The please is what does it. You release his cock, placing both hands on his thighs. With a pleased growl, Kyle keeps your head stationary. You anticipate the first thrust, and it is sinful. The movement goes straight to your pussy as you imagining him fucking you there like he fucks your mouth.
Fingers dig into muscled thigh. You want to touch yourself, to tease your clit while he does it. He is a god above you—Adonis.
“Can’t wait to taste your cunt, love,” rasps Kyle. “Can’t wait to make you drip for me.”
His desire fuels your own, and you urge him on, gently cupping him with one hand, thumb lightly rubbing the sensitive strip of flesh there.
Kyle’s hips stutter, and you relax your throat, humming around his cock as your lips meet the base. He holds you there, and you take it all, thighs chaffing from the friction of you rubbing them together in anticipation.
You blink up at him, and Kyle wipes away a tear with his thumb.
“My turn,” he murmurs.
You’re on your feet and then on your back in seconds. All the wind is knocked out of you, and then Kyle’s tongue is there, sliding through your slickness. Parting. Teasing the opening of your vagina before trailing upward to circle around your clit.
Gasping, your hands reach for him. Kyle grabs both wrists, keeps them planting on your stomach as he fucks you with his tongue. His shoulders dig into your thighs, keeping them wide. He’s stronger than you even as your thighs quiver, wanting to close, wanting to shut.
Kyle groans against your pussy, and then he’s on your clit, moving in such an easy, languid way that everything explodes outward. A shudder passes from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. Your pussy clenches. Unclenches. Clenches again.
Kyle doesn’t let up. He doesn’t cease. Every stroke strikes true and then your body betrays itself, overstimulation setting in, and the urge to wiggle away is paramount.
But just as you push at him—just as your body draws back. Kyle is releasing your wrists, pushing himself up and over you, spreading those legs even wider to slide inside.
The bed creaks beneath you, and then he’s thrusting.
Your moans of pleasure become one with the rain.
John "Soap" MacTavish
Single lamp. Lone bed.
Peeling paint. Dusty corners.
“Something’s on your mind.” Your voice is the only sound in the room other than the AC unit.
Soap’s sigh is soft and small as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.
It’s the last night before the potential end. Before victory or failure. Just the two of you now with the plan to meet up with others later.
He nods, and you take a tentative step forward. “We attended the briefing. You know the details.”
“Aye.”
“Then what has you worried?” you ask, taking another step in Soap’s direction.
A warm, orange glow emits from the singular lamp on the bedside table. It’s not enough light to illuminate the cheap peeling paint or the dirt in the corners of the room. It only gives life to the bed and the side of Soap’s face.
It’s not like you have an unlimited budget. A motel room is the best the two of you could manage for some rest before moving on. The man at the desk didn’t even glance up when he asked if they only wanted a room for an hour.
You had asked for two beds. The man at the desk replied that no one who stops here asks for that.
One bed it is.
One bed.
Somehow, you’ll have to sleep beside Soap while simultaneously shoving down the urge to reach out to him.
Sighing, Soap leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. His gaze drifts slightly as if he’s not focusing on anything in particular. Running his fingers through his short mohawk, he tugs on the ends, mussing the freshly washed strands, creating a wavy mess.
Just that one movement as you leaning forward, nostrils flaring to inhale that clean scent.
“Adaptability,” he answers. Finally.
Instead of sitting on the bed beside him, you sink to your knees, resting your arm on the bed, and your chin on your arm.
The two of you have been on missions before but never together like this.
Never alone.
Keeping your gaze downward, you notice just how close you are to him—and how Soap leans in your direction, the edge of his knee brushing against the side of your hand.
It’s a small contact, but he’s warm, and that warmth is transferring into yourself, unspooling outward. It’s a difficult thing—because all this time you’ve harbored feelings for him, and yet have never acted on them.
“You’re quick on your feet, Soap,” you murmur, one finger absently extended to brush over the curve of his knee.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You can call me Johnny.”
Johnny. You’ve never called him that. Soap, sure. Sergeant MacTavish? All the time.
“I thought Ghost only had that right.”
Only Ghost calls Soap ‘Johnny.’ That’s understood by everyone.
Soap shrugs. “He did.” He glances at you, his smile widening. “But I’d like to hear you say it.”
Something swirls in your stomach, twisting like a knife.
“How would you like to hear it?” you reply.
Johnny’s smile, which is so wide and teasing, softens into a sultry smirk. “I have options?”
“You do.”
Johnny’s usual playfulness emerges. “Say it like you’re angry with me.”
“Johnny,” you say, deepening your voice to sound like Ghost.
He bursts out laughing, falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach. “Oh, aye. I’ll give you that.”
“What else?” you tease. “I demand more.”
“Say it like you’re annoyed with me.”
You do just that, and Johnny sits up, turning on his side.
“Again,” you prompt.
The middle of Johnny’s brow creases and then his hand cradles the side of your face. He closes the distance, kissing you deeply—as if you are his lover and not a friend.
But you don’t pull away. You indulge yourself, kissing him back just as sweetly.
You’re not sure how much time passes, just that it does, and his small retreat after it’s done is all you have in acknowledging its passing.
The withdrawal is short. Johnny doesn’t move away. He keeps his hand on your cheek. The tip of his nose nearly brushing yours.
“Say it now,” he breathes, voice raspy.
“Johnny,” but it’s not what you intended to say.
He sighs. “Again.”
“Johnny.”
This time he groans, and then your lips are fusing, becoming one. You’re dragged off the floor and into his arms, tangling in his heat, forgetting yourself completely.
“Johnny,” you repeat, and then your shirt is gone, followed by your bra.
He nips at the curve of your breasts before sucking your nipple into his mouth. His teeth graze flesh and you say his name again until it becomes a strangled moan.
The front of your jeans is open, and his hand is there, cupping your sex, fingers dragging through your wetness.
“Johnny,” but it’s to stop him, to remind him that this cannot go on.
“Fucking hell. Love the way you say my name.”
This melts your resolve. Makes your legs spread wider. Makes you shove at your pants and create plenty of space.
Johnny knows. He understands.
He yanks them down even as he peppers your breasts with little nips and kisses. Your fingers drags through his hair as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, bringing it to perky attention.
One finger slides inside, and you groan loudly, legs falling wide as Johnny settles himself between.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, claiming your mouth and pumping his finger. You whimper as he inserts a second. “Wanted you so bad.”
Your pussy flutters, squeezing around him. It is Johnny that groans this time, and it is a primal sound.
“Can I fuck you?” he asks. “Please.”
“Johnny,” you breathe. “Johnny.”
“Need a yes or no. Tell me. Do you want me? I’ve wanted you.”
You answer by finding him—guiding him to the place you need him to.
With a low growl, Johnny pins your arms above your head, slotting his pelvis against yours, the head of his cock sinking in until you’re taking all of him.
“Johnny!”
“That’s what I want to hear,” he croons, starting to thrust.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“I can’t tell what blood is yours and what isn’t.”
“Can fucking do it myself.”
“Ghost—”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Simon,” you snap, and he stops fidgeting.
Behind the plain balaclava, you see the fire in Lieutenant Riley’s eyes. This man is your superior. At least, right now he is. But the mission is done. It’s over. Yet the two of you are stranded, and making contact with Price is going to take time.
Not to mention that Simon is injured, and you have no fucking idea where at.
“Let me help you,” you say as soothingly as possible.
You don’t want to fight with him. All you want is to help Simon, to clean him up, and get him into bed. Rest and healing are what he needs right now. Contacting Price can wait. Base can stew for a while longer.
The two of you are in a motel room in the middle of fucking nowhere America. It’s shit overall, but it will have to do. There’s no way anyone is searching for the two of you out here. You drove until you nearly ran out of gas, and then you refilled and drove some more. Simon was in the back of the car, covered in blood.
But he was awake. Moving. Not a head injury, and not enough to get him immediate medical treatment. Not like he would have allowed you to take him to a hospital anyway. Lieutenant Riley is fucking stubborn. Sometimes infuriatingly so.
Simon stares, hard, his dark eyes intense behind the balaclava. He blinks, and then pushes up from the chair, keeping his gaze trained on you.
“Lieutenant,” you mutter, annoyed.
As Simon stands and attempts to take a step forward, his left leg wobbles, and he nearly topples forward. Your arms go out to catch him, holding him steady. He’s a big guy, and he seems to know this because he tries to prop himself up using the chair.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” you snap.”
“Listen—”
“I’m not arguing with you Simon Riley.”
Using his full name shuts him up. It’ll likely earn you a reprimand later, but fuck it, you’re over this.
“Stay there.” You shove him back down into the chair and head into the bathroom.
There is a single overhead light. Flipping the switch turns it on and the fan. It’s a tight space, but thankfully the shower isn’t also a tub. That would be a nightmare getting him in. Instead, there is a sink, a toilet, and a dividing wall that cuts the room in half. It’s more like a locker shower but it’ll work.
Reaching in, you turn the handle. You jump back as cold water shoots out of the shower head. After waiting for a few seconds, steam starts to rise.
You take a deep breath, knowing what you have to do. “You got this,” you murmur, heading back into the room.
Simon leans forward in the chair, forearms resting on his knees.
You hold out your hand. “Let’s go.”
Lieutenant Riley’s head swivels in your direction. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” you reply, holding firm. “Come on.”
With a deep sigh, Simon reaches out and slides his hand into yours. It’s warm. Calloused. You squeeze it and step forward, extending your other arm to wrap around his torso. Simon stands. Wobbles. But you snake your arm around him, and then it’s a slow trek into the bathroom.
Simon is limping, but he’s showing no other signs that his injury hurts him. Might be minor, or he’s just good at covering up the pain.
Once the two of you are inside the bathroom, you realize just how small the space is. Maneuvering Simon to the shower is difficult, a weird dance to wiggle around the door and toilet to the opening of the shower.
You retreat slightly, and Simon leans against the wall, his eyelids closing as he takes a deep breath.
“You good?” you ask, concern creasing your brow.
Simon nods. “I’ll manage.” His eyelids open slowly and then he stares into the shower. “You want me in there?”
“You’ll need to remove a few things first,” you reply, gesturing toward his uniform.
Simon snorts. “Trying to get me naked?”
“You wish,” you retort, even as your cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Need help?”
At first, Simon doesn’t say anything. He just reaches for his belt, removing it slowly with one hand.
“I’ll leave you to it,” you mumble, starting to turn away.
“Wait.”
You freeze, and then glance over your shoulder. “What is it?”
Simon shrugs. “What if I slip? Might need you to catch me.”
This bastard.
“Then I’ll stay,” you reply cooly, pretending that this doesn’t affect you.
But it does. It’s reshaping you, and Simon’s slow undressing isn’t helping things. He keeps his gaze on you the entire time, and you purposefully keep your eyes averted, when really you want to look. You want to know what he’s like under all that.
The belt goes. So does his tactical gear and jacket. Next is his shirt followed by his balaclava. You sneak a peek then, and Simon grins at you like he knew you’d look eventually.
“I’ll need some help with these. Getting them down that is.” Simon gestures towards his pants and you feel your face grow so hot you fear it might explode.
“Sure.”
You reach for him, silently chastising your shaking fingers. This is too much, even though you like it, and want more from it. You undo the button and zipper. Sliding your hands beneath the band, you shimmy Simon’s pants to the floor. He kicks them away and all that’s left are his boxer briefs. They’re tight and you notice the massive bulge in front.
Fuck.
“You can do the rest,” you reply, glancing away.
Simon removes them, and then he starts forward, arms outstretched to balance himself as he enters the shower.
“Fucking hell,” moans Simon as the hot water hits his body.
The groan that comes after is deep, and so sultry you feel a bolt of pleasure spike from your pussy.
“Should join me.”
“No thanks,” you say, averting your gaze away from Simon’s muscled backside.
One moment you’re facing the wall, and the next you’re under the spray of water.
“What the fuck,” you shriek, stumbling backward as Simon chuckles. Muttering under your breath, you stare down at your soaked clothing. “Goddamn it.” You start removing articles of clothing, the wet fabric peeling away from your skin.
“Fucking fine, Simon.”
You shed everything and storm under the spray, only for Simon to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against him. There is no pause between then and the moment his lips find yours. It is sweet, and warm. You instantly melt, enjoying every second.
But it’s fleeting.
You draw back, heart hammering in your chest.
“You’re covered in blood. Remember?”
Simon shrugs and then offers you the soap. “Clean me then.”
You do it, and when you’re done, he does the same for you. It’s far too intimate, and Simon’s gentleness is surprising. Once finished, you dry and bandage the wound on his leg. It’s not terrible—and will likely need stitches—but it’s not bleeding anymore.
The singular bed in the middle of the room is far too small. Not with Simon in at, spread out and naked under the sheets.
You slide in beside him, not knowing where you should settle. Simon is large, taking up most of the best. The only place is curled up next to his side.
Turning your resolve to steal, you settle in. You begin to turn away from Simon, but his arm shoots out, grasping your waist. You’re yanked across the bed, only to find yourself in Simon’s arms.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Stop pretending, love. We both know what’s going on. Don’t deny it.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Simon—”
“We’ve been making eyes at each other for fucking months. And now we’re alone. You think I don’t see the opportunity?”
Simon’s hand slides over the curve of your ass, and then dips beneath your shirt. You’re not wearing underwear, and when his fingers brush over your pussy, you gasp, pressing into him.
“You’re already wet for me,” growls Simon as he drags a finger through your folds. “So fucking wet.” He presses in, and your pussy parts for him.
“We can’t, Simon. You’re injured.”
“Not so much,” he coos. “Especially since I can do this.” On this, Simon drags the tips of his finger along the inside your pussy, hitting that sweet spot.
You moan, fingers digging into his chest as your back arches to press you further down on him.
“It’s just my leg that’s injured.” Simon’s lips brush against your cheek and then the edge of your ear. His breath is warm against your skin. “I can still fuck you. Have you on top. Bounce you on my cock.” Simon gives the curve of your ear the faintest kiss. “Would you like that, love? Do you want me to fuck you?”
“We—we—”
With his other hand, Simon grasps the back of your neck, drawing you against him, silencing whatever it is you’re trying to say. He seizes your mouth in a fierce kiss. You open for him, and his tongue slides inside. He tastes nice, and you want to sink into the feeling. Have him devour you completely.
“Let me in,” he murmurs against your lips.
You push up, doing exactly as he wants you to do. You settle on his lap, his hard cock pressed up against your thigh.
With a low growl, Simon removes your shirt, leaving you completely bare to his gaze.
“Much better,” he says, cupping your breasts as you lean on his chest, lifting your hips.
His cock slides through your folds, and then you start the descent, moaning as he splits you in two. The stretch is intense—nearly sharp with pain, but laced with pleasure. Simon’s eyelids flutter slightly, and his groan is pure sin.
Simon lightly squeezes your breasts one more time before his hands find your hips. He lifts you up, and then back down, bouncing you on his cock. You cling to him, allowing him to use you, to fuck you in whatever way he wants.
Each grunt and growl from him only makes you wetter. Hungrier.
“I’m gonna come inside you.”
It’s not a question. There is no other option, and you wouldn’t take anything else even if there was.
“Please,” you whimper.
Simon’s hands tighten, his hips thrusting upward to meet every downward movement. He sits up, his mouth clamping around a nipple to nip and suck. Your orgasm roars up from nowhere, and then you’re clenching around him, milking Simon’s cock as his own end greets him.
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