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#Call of duty Ghost
simonzmama · 2 days
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sugardaddy simon??
simon spoiled you in all aspects of the word. bags, jewelz, shoes, clothes, everything. needed help with this? he’s gotchu mama, dw bout it.
such as now… maybe? his tongue curls against yours, the soft, pink muscle gliding across yours. his fingers slip under the lifting material of your pretty skirt, one he’d bought, one he put on you. he can hear the thuds of your heels slipping off your feet n onto the floor of the car, your thighs climbing to gain more leverage round him instantly.
“ya’ like it, hm?” he breathes into your mouth, referring back to the skirt. his free hand tangles into your hair, nails curling against your scalp as he pulls your head back, watching your neck strain and arch as you stare back at him lowly. the diamonds of your pretty necklace glint under the sun streamin’ into the car, n simon can just barely make out the SR engraved into the heavy sparkling crystal sittin just above the valley of your breasts.
“f-fuckin’ love it, baby,” you cry, your own hands fisting his shirt up. your hips drop, jaw falling open as your pretty cunt swallows him up.
your thighs smush fatty against his, the space in the car seemin’ to grow smaller n smaller by the fuckin’ second as sweat lines your forehead. your hands settle against the seat for balance, hips workin’ up a quicker pace, so desperate to milk this man fuckin dry, so desperate to get that sweet release you’d basically thrown a fit for.
you watch the lines in his aging skin crinkle, brows furrowing every so slightly and his lips all parted. simon can’t lie, havin a pretty young girl ‘round him made his lose his mind, n the fact you were always so desperate to please him made him fuckin’ highhh, euphoric to have to something so precious, so desperate.
“yeah, me fucking too,” he puffs, his fingers gliding up the soft length of your thigh before he’s flipping the front of that lil skirt up. his eyes fixate ‘emselves on the way his cock disappears deep within you. he can feel it too, that’s for damn sure.
his eyes goes rolling back, abs clenching under the lining of plush fat that sits atop ‘em. n with the way his belly’s starting to pull into taut knots, he’s starting to feel that thrill fill his veins again, surprised he’s even lasted this long.
“watch for the damn horn,” he scoffs, throat rolling in on itself as his eyes fog over in a thin trail of tears. “gonna have people linin’ up for they own turn.”
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konigsblog · 3 hours
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older-boyfriend simon riley and his dumb little girlfriend.
tw/cw; age difference/gap, dumbification, mentions of alcohol consumption. MDNI 18+
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older-boyfriend simon finds joy in making you feel and look stupid. perhaps it stems from his desire to have complete authority—probably fueled by his position as a lieutenant—or maybe he just enjoys making you look stupid, to mock your tears and whines during sex. can you really blame him? it's an addictive sight.
“that’s my dumb girl, so whiney and noisy, yeah? can’t keep that dirty mouth shut for more than a second?”
he taunts you, rubbing his creamy and sensitive tip back and forth against your sensitive nub. you rub your thighs together at the stimulation against your little clit, breathing in the smell of alcohol from his muscular and broad body. he pries your soft, supple thighs open and slaps your cheek lightly, hushing your whimpers as he begins to push the tip of his hard, stiff cock deep inside your walls.
“there we go, darlin’— so precious and compliant, you’ll listen, won’t‘cha? or can you not follow basic and simple orders like a good girl? speak up, beautiful.”
he smirks playfully at the effect he has on you. you're a total idiot around him, not a thought behind your half-lidded and delirious eyes as he begins thrusting into your gummy walls. his broad hips meet your tight rear, silencing your cries and moans with the pleasure between your thighs leaving you aroused. simon will ask you easy questions, only to mock you for babbling something incoherent out at him, such a little dumbass.
“what’s wrong, lovie? can’t speak properly?”
you shake your head slowly and lazily, giggling at the drooling mess left between your soaked, slick thighs. you gasp and shake, back arched perfectly allowing simon to fuck you with ease and hit places he's never hit before. your moans are endless, leaving his boner aching inside his dumb girl's cunt.
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callofloony · 1 day
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Simon “Anything I touch becomes ruined” Riley. John “Anything but me” MacTavish.
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Back when I tried to come up what Ghost would look like under his mask and this was the result! Very happy with it however... I see him a bit less twinkish? now so perhaps this was when he was younger and less swole
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asgardswinter · 2 months
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley coded
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lovifie · 1 month
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Reader: *Finally snapping after years of mental abuse, losing all kinds of self conservation instinct, smashing someone's head with a rock.*
Ghost, just as mentally fucked and with even less conservation instinct: Yeah, I could fix her.
I just think they could work perfectly fine, with like no angst at any given moment and just perfectly healthy and not self sabotaging from any of them. Hehe
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bearwithoneear · 3 months
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One of the pages in Johnny's journal
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sketchyfandomgirl · 3 months
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Simon “Ghost” Riley who gets terrible acne when he goes for days on end without taking his mask off. He gets so sweaty and gross that when it finally come off, Simon has a terrible breakout and it can take days to clean it all up.
That’s why he turns to you, probably the only other member of 141 who has a good skin care other than Gaz, but he won’t let the kid know he’s got acne.
He also trusts you more to find something that agrees with his skin and even goes on a shopping trip with you to pick out something he might like, and a few others to try with your expertise. The man is so confused reading every label as you work through the aisles like it’s the back of your hand. It makes his head dizzy thinking about it too much.
And no Simon, do not pay too much attention to the bunny ears headband, it’s not that important, look at this clay mask instead! It’ll help with pores!
When it’s all over, it’s almost as if you bought half the self care aisle back to base, but it’s for the greater good! Plenty of creams, pore strips, face masks, clay masks, lotions and even a roller with oil to make the face feel fresh!
It’s a whole evening helping Simon find what’s best for him. He complains soooooo much about the steamer, but you hush him and say it’ll be worth it. Maybe give him some snacks to appease him as he roasts his face for his health! And yes, he is wearing the bunny headband to keep his curls out of the way.
Simon takes a backseat as you do your magic applying the creams and clay mask to his face. Yes, there is a difference between the creams and masks Simon!
He definitely asks you to explain what you’re putting on his face and what it does. He wants to learn! Simon isn’t simply there for you to take care of him lies, he’s totally enjoying the attention
Play a movie and the man is comfy in his seat as you pamper and fuss over him, cleaning him up of that icky acne :(
The cherry on top of this delicious sundae is when you bully Simon out of his seat to sit on the floor, stealing his spot and positioning him to sit between your legs. Laying him to lean against your chair, you massage the oil into his face, using the roller to run across his face. He almost moans in appreciation as your fingers work their magic, rubbing his cheeks, jaw and forehead with great care to make his eyes flutter shut. It’s so comforting he falls into a lull of sleep and you don’t even realize it until you hear a gentle snore.
What a wonderful day for self care. Maybe Simon will make sure to dirty his face again for another day like this.
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konigsblog · 24 days
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older-boyfriend simon riley ‘nd his protectiveness.
tw/cw: age difference/age gap, exhibition, afab!f!reader. MDNI 18+
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older-boyfriend simon riley is incredibly overprotective and possessive of you.
perhaps it stems from his deep insecurities and jealousy—that he's dating a pretty little thing, constantly anxious that you'll find someone younger than him, someone less toxic and more attractive. he makes out with you in public, despite not being into PDA whatsoever. of course, simon is familiar with the judgmental glares people give him in return for perving on a young, docile thing like you, but he can't help himself and craves the control and power that being your boyfriend allows him to have.
simon feels that it's his duty to protect you and to make sure you know who you belong to. people automatically assume that you are father and daughter due to your large age gap. i mean in all fairness, the man is old enough to be your father; you can't exactly blame them. despite the obvious age difference between you two, simon is still left frustrated and stressed whenever he hears those words, which leave him feeling perverted and corrupted for having a young woman wrapped around his finger.
he'll make out with you in public, his thick digits sliding into your panties while you're sitting together in a restaurant, only the table covering what depraved things simon is doing to you. he hides your face in his burly chest, your moans muffled and stifled, silenced from him hushing you, while he curls his calloused and scarred fingers inside of your tight hole.
he'll take you to the bathroom and fuck you relentlessly, forcing you to scream his name the entire time. your voice is left stained, and your throat is sore from deepthroating his large, hung dick. your makeup is left smeared—a mess—but at least everyone knows exactly who you belong to, right?
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a-gromova · 6 months
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Going Dark
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forsworned · 18 days
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IT'S (NOT) JUST SEX ft. SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY
Warning(s): Sexual Content, AFAB!reader, (Sorta) Daddy Issues, Half&Half Proofread idk
Author's note: Guess I'm drowning in Simon right now, I just have so many ideas for him and honestly this is not original but fuck it I think it's cute mwah
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"It's just sex."
But he's literally paying attention to every staccato of your moans, as he angles his hips perfectly to hit your sweet spot every fucking time. The way you arch your back, and your whimpers are elongating with every stroke, adding just the right amount of pressure to have you cumming all over his dick. And he doesn't even care if he's finishing anymore, as long as you're getting yours he's more than satisfied enough. And he's definitely not flipping you over on your back every time without fail just to see your pretty "o" face.
"It's just sex."
But he's waking up before you with your coffee exactly the way you like it, down to the milk preference, brand and roast. Your eggs perfectly fried, and a tender kiss to your temple asking you,
"How'd ya sleep, love?"
"It's just sex."
But he's always fixing your hair when it's out of place, the collar of your shirt when it's tucked in incorrectly and making sure he's holding your hand when you're crossing the street together.
"It's just sex."
But he's talking you down over the phone when you get into a catastrophic argument with your dad and moments later he's showing up at your door with your favorite snacks and beverages. His arms are enveloping you in the most snug bear hug, kissing your temple and rubbing your back while you cry it out. And then you're watching reruns of your favorite tv show and until you're passed out in his arms.
"It's just sex."
But he's letting you in. You're seeing all the sides of him that he never shows to anyone else. The scars under his mask, the way his lips curve up into a smile when you're doing you're little dance to oldies on the radio, and the genuine, hearty chuckle that effortlessly escapes his now loosened sternum.
"It's just sex."
But then you're under the steamy water coming out of his showerhead, as he sings in his off-key baritone while he suds up his loofa to clean you up after he fucked your brains out on his loveseat. Memorizing every mole, stretchmark, and crease in your skin as he's exfoliating your pretty skin.
But,
It's not just sex.
Because he's sitting there on the sofa, wondering how the fuck he ended up with the prettiest, vintage engagement ring you pointed out when you two were antiquing (antiquing? he doesn't bloody go antiquing) between his stout, scarred fingers, glittering in the moonlight and all.
"Si?"
He turns from the ring to the most stunning woman that's ever graced his miserable presence, leaning against the doorframe with his shirt hanging loosely over her thighs, hair disheveled in the cutest way humanly possible. Her playful smile etching into her dulcet features as she sucks in her bottom lip. Oh yeah, she's a fuckin' stunner.
"Are you coming back to bed?"
His eyes visibly softening as he drinks you in.
"Ya, dovie, I'll be right there." He murmurs, licking his dry lips, and you're already padding back to his room, making sure you sway your hips provocatively. That causes his lips to kick up into a genuine smile and a chuckle to escape his chest. And then he's up, carefully putting away the precious metal in a false bottom drawer under the utensils, and then he's jovially treading back to you. Face first into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, natural musk. He could bathe in this shit.
Fingers carding through his hair and he's oblivious to the knowing smirk on your sly face. That fucker thinks he's so slick.
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schizo-bbgs · 4 months
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another ghost because I felt silly
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nova-amor · 2 months
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tags. +18 mdni, female reader. cunnilingus, overstimulation, biting, mild choking, coercing. pet name: ‘bird’. wc; 670.
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“Simon—” His name slipped from your lips in the form of a whisper, the syllables drawn out in a long breath. Your heart stammered in your chest as his tongue ceased its ravenous assault, your half-lidded eyes peering down at the man who had found his home burrowed between your legs. Your thighs shook as the soft, wet muscle of his tongue licked a fat stripe up your sex, the tip dragging up the hood of your sensitive clit and exposing it to his warm breath.
Your thighs trembled from the sensation, your head lolling to the side as he flickered the pointed tip of his tongue side-to-side against your little nub. His honey-brown eyes remained on you. Amusement and desire fueled the intensity of his gaze, the twitch of a smirk tugging at the corner of his wet lips.
With a deep rumble, he gave you a moment to make your plea, the murmur of a “Hm? What is it, bird?” leaving his lips.
“Si— I don’t think,” Simon’s mouth inched away from your sopping cunt, his tongue darting out to lick at the remnants of your spent lingering on his lips. His chin dripped with saliva and creamy cum, the short prickles of his five o’clock shadow glistening under the amber glow of the nearby nightstand lamp. “I don’t think I can handle anymore— I think,” Your sentence came to a sudden halt, the sharpness of your breath stinging your lungs as you inhaled.
Simon’s sharp canines nipped at the delicate skin of your inner thigh, his thick fingers curling around the tightening muscles to keep you in place. Your hips bucked at the sensation of his tongue darting out to flick against your skin, his teeth shortly returning to sink deeper into the flesh. A whimper left your lips as he continued the cycle, your brain short-circuiting like an old processing computer.
“Stop,” Simon ordered, his tone so casual, it was as if he had gotten used to torturing you. Which he had. He had made residence between your legs an hour ago, feasting on the plump flesh of your folds and nibbling on your clit as if it were his last meal.
“What?” You questioned as he lavished attention on the sensitive skin. One of his hands trailed up the length of your body, ghosting over the terrain of your hips and stomach before settling on your breast. He sank his canines further into you, ripping a pained hiss from between your teeth while sweet slick dripped from your core.
His calloused fingers kneaded at the soft flesh, squeezing and pinching at your hardened nipple, eliciting a cry of pleasure from your drying lips. “Stop thinking.” Simon peppered a few kisses up your thigh, laying a fat peck upon your clit before drawing the bud into his mouth. He released it with a wet ‘pop’; “Stop using that pretty little brain of yours and let me enjoy my meal. I’m starving.” He relayed, speaking as if he hadn’t ripped orgasm after orgasm from you.
“Simon, please…”
“One more,” Simon cut you off before you could continue, his desire to consume you making him impatient. He gave your nipple another sharp pinch before moving up to curl his fingers around your neck, keeping your head in place to watch him as he ate you out. “Gimmie one more, and then I’ll stop. I promise.” He lied as his thumb rubbed soothing stripes up and down the side of your throat.
Your eyes grew hazy as his tongue flicked at your clit, the tip of it tracing your puffy slit. He delved deeper into your heat, relishing in its sweetened musk as the taste of your arousal flooded his mouth. You nearly cried his name in the form of a high-pitched whine as he plunged his tongue deeper into you, driving it further into you with frantic pumps.
“Just one more,” He growled the promise. “I know you can do it. You’ve always been such a good girl for me.”
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bearwithoneear · 3 months
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Warm and fluff
Taking this here from my Twitter
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riviclouds · 9 months
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*pets him with a slightly damp toothbrush*
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dontyouworrydaddy · 11 months
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Can you please write about the Task Force 141 boys (and Konig too if it's ok) just casually shopping when a young woman comes to them out of the blue, gently grabbing their arm. She looks absolutely terryfied, whispering a shaky "Act like you know me. Please!" It's clear someone has been following her for a whlie and she's desperate for help. Thank you.
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𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓
Task Force 141 (+König) x Reader
I‘m so happy I get to write this since I had this in mind for such a long time 😭 so Thank you for suggesting this and I hope you like it xoxo 😚
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KÖNIG
As König strolled through the bustling marketplace, his keen eyes scanned the various stalls, his mind focused on the mundane task of running errands. Dressed inconspicuously in civilian clothes, he blended seamlessly into the crowd, his stoic demeanor giving no hint of the dangerous missions he undertook as an elite soldier.
Suddenly, a gentle touch on his arm startled him. He turned to face you with fear written deeply into your eyes. "Please act like you know me!" you pleaded, your voice trembling. König instantly recognized the distress in your voice and the urgency in your gaze. Without hesitation, he nodded, his stoicism giving way to concern.
"Hey," he greeted, his voice laced with a comforting tone. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a protective embrace. You leaned into his chest, seeking solace in his strength.
König's social anxiety has always been a problem for him and it’s hitting hard surfaced in this unexpected encounter. He was a man of few words but possessed an unwavering sense of loyalty and courage. He was calm under pressure, his sharp instincts guiding him through the chaos of battle. Now, faced with a terrified stranger seeking his help, those traits kicked into action.
As König held you, he discreetly surveyed his surroundings. His eyes landed on a man lurking nearby, watching you guys intently. The man's presence and the way he leered at you which made it clear he had been following you. König's protective instincts flared, and he knew he needed to act swiftly.
With a calm yet firm voice, König spoke to the man, his words laden with an underlying warning. "Do you have a problem, sir?" he asked, his tone carrying an unmistakable air of authority.
The man's face paled as he realized he had been caught. He stammered a weak denial, his eyes darting nervously from König to you. Sensing the growing unease in the man, König maintained his grip on the you, ensuring your safety. Without another word, the man hastily retreated, disappearing into the crowd as if he were never there. König watched him go, his steely gaze never faltering. Once the immediate danger had passed, he turned his attention back to you gently releasing you from his protective embrace.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. You nodded, gratitude shining in your eyes. You thanked him for his help but your voice still laced with residual fear. König, ever the enigma, simply nodded in response, his focus returning to the world around him.
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SIMON RILEY
Simon strolled through the bustling marketplace, enjoying a rare moment of solitude away from his covert missions and high-stakes operations. As he perused the various stalls, his attention was suddenly drawn to a figure emerging from the throng, walking towards him with a sense of urgency. It was you and you had fear written across your face, approaching Simon with trepidation. Without a moment's hesitation, you reached out and gently grabbed his arm, your voice trembling as you whispered, "Act like you know me. Please!" He looked down at you and he wonders why him because you can’t see his face due to the mask covering his whole face but his eyes.
But still, Simon's instincts kicked in, his years of training guiding his response. He swiftly assessed the situation, noting the unease in your eyes and the subtle glances cast over your shoulder. Without a word, he nodded, recognizing the urgency of the matter. With a sense of familiarity, he slipped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer, creating a facade of friendship and protection. “There you are. I thought you got lost in the mall” he replied a bit loudly so the man behind you could hear it.
The man, dressed in a nondescript manner, had been trailing you for some time. His presence was unsettling, and his intentions were definitely clear. Sensing the danger, Simon decided to confront the man head-on. With a calm yet authoritative voice, he greeted the stranger, "Hey, is there a problem?"
The man's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by Simon's intervention. He stammered, unable to meet Simon's piercing gaze. "N-No, there's no problem. Sorry for the misunderstanding," he mumbled before quickly retreating into the crowd, disappearing as if he had never been there at all.
You let out a sigh of relief, the tension slowly releasing from your body. Simon's protective embrace remained, offering you a sense of security amidst the chaotic surroundings. He looked down at you, concern etched upon his face. "Are you alright? Do you know that man?"
You shook your head, grateful for Simon's intervention. "No, I've never seen him before. But he's been following me for a few days and he’s always lurking in the shadows. I didn't know what to do, and then I saw you. I just...I needed help. Because this time I had the feeling something is gonna happen"
Simon's expression softened, his voice filled with reassurance. "You did the right thing, coming to me. We'll figure this out together. You're safe now."
With that, Simon gently led you away from the marketplace, finding a quieter corner where the noise of the crowd was replaced by a sense of serenity. His arm remained around you, providing both a shield and a comfort. The world seemed to fade away as the two of you focused on each other.
He stayed with you for an hour until you were calm and offered to guide you home. You guys started talking and he was pretty good at keeping your mind busy and forgetting about what happened earlier.
Before you leave, you give him your phone number and thank him again. He first didn’t accept it but you wanted to go out and have a drink as a thank you. After a few arguments he agreed and accepted it.
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JOHN MACTAVISH
John strolled through the busy shopping center, blending in with the bustling crowd. As an experienced soldier, he had become accustomed to the chaos of war, but today he sought solace in the mundane world of civilian life. It was an ordinary day, or so he thought.
Suddenly, a hand gently grasped his arm, and he turned to face an unfamiliar yet terrified face. It was you, eyes wide with fear and voice trembling as you spoke. "You, please. Act like you know me. Please!" you whispered urgently.
John was taken aback by the intensity of your plea, but his instincts kicked in immediately. With a nod, he masked his surprise and responded, "Hey, how have you been?" He wrapped his arms around you in a comforting hug, hoping to offer you some reassurance.
Feeling the strength and warmth in his embrace, you relaxed. You leaned closer, your voice barely above a whisper, "There's a man following me. He's been tracking me for a while, and I'm terrified. I don't know what to do."
John's eyes narrowed as he surveyed his surroundings, searching for any signs of the mysterious man. “Don't worry," he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I'll handle it."
Just as John finished speaking, a figure emerged from the crowd, his gaze fixed on you. Sensing the tension, the stalker approached, a malicious glint in his eyes. However, his confidence wavered when he saw John's protective stance and you nestled against him.
John's steely gaze met the stalker's, and he spoke with an edge of warning in his voice, "Is there a problem?" His voice, calm and controlled, sent a shiver down the stalker's spine. The stalker faltered, suddenly unsure of himself. He stammered, "N-no, no problem at all." Fear danced in his eyes, realizing that he had underestimated the situation. Without another word, the stalker swiftly turned on his heels and disappeared into the crowd, leaving John and you in a newfound sense of safety. John's grip on you tightened slightly, a silent promise that he would continue to protect you.
As the adrenaline subsided, you looked up at John, gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine relief. "I don't know what I would've done without you."
John offered a reassuring smile, his rugged features softened by a genuine kindness. "You're welcome. Just glad I could help. Are you okay?"
A small smile graced your lips, finally feeling a sense of security. "I am now. Thanks to you, …"
“John. My Name is John” he replied with a smile. “Thanks to you John“
You guys stood there for a moment longer until you were calm and talked for a bit before your ways parted again.
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JOHN PRICE
John walked through the bustling aisles of a local supermarket, his mind preoccupied with mundane thoughts about groceries and errands. He is relaxed, but his years of combat experience had honed his senses, always keeping his mind busy.
As he reached for a can of soup on the shelf, a gentle yet desperate touch on his arm caught his attention. He turned his head and his eyes met with yours. In that moment, he sensed your fear and urgency. There was no need for words; your trembling form and wide eyes spoke more than words.
"Help me. Please act like you know me" you whispered shakily, your voice laced with terror. You were being pursued, and you needed his help. Without hesitation, Price nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. His personality trait of being fiercely protective kicked into high gear.
His grip tightened around you, offering both support and a sense of safety. "Hey," he greeted, his voice low and comforting. "What's going on?"
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you clung to him. "There's this guy... he's been following me for days," you explained, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what he wants, but I can't shake him off."
Price's jaw tensed, his expression growing more determined. "Stay close," he said, his voice holding a steely edge. "Let's confront him."
With your heart pounding, you followed Price as he led you through the supermarket, his imposing figure serving as a shield against any potential threat. As you weaved through the aisles, you caught sight of the man who had been stalking you. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed Price's presence at your side.
John’s voice held a commanding tone as he approached the man. "You got a problem?"
Startled, the man stammered, his face turning pale. "W-What? No no no, no problem at all," he stuttered, his voice trembling. He hastily made his way toward the exit, clearly intimidated by the legendary figure of John.
With the threat seemingly neutralized, John turned his attention back to you. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, his strong arms offering solace amidst the chaos of the situation. "You're safe now," he reassured, his voice carrying a sense of genuine care.
You buried your face in his chest, feeling the weight of the tension slowly dissipating. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
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KYLE GARRICK
Kyle was walking through his local yet favorite grocery store. He couldn’t find his favorite candy which was making him a bit mad. Little did he know that his peaceful shopping excursion was about to take a dramatic turn.
Suddenly, a hand gently clasped around Kyle's arm. He turned, his eyes locking with yours. You, with your disheveled hair and wide eyes, looked absolutely terrified. The fear in your gaze pierced through him, leaving no room for doubt. Without a word, you pleaded for his assistance.
"Act like you know me. Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Kyle's training kicked in, his instincts telling him to trust you. He masked his surprise and concern, his face transforming into a warm smile. "Hey," he greeted you, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. The embrace offered you a sense of safety.
His voice, a soothing baritone, held a touch of authority. "Is that guy bothering you? Does he have a problem?" Kyle glanced over your shoulder, his gaze fixed on a man lurking in the distance, his eyes locked onto you with a sinister intensity.
Fear flashed across the stalker's face as he realized he had been caught. His eyes darted from Kyle to you and back again. In that moment, the tables turned, and he suddenly felt the weight of his actions. The man quickly averted his gaze, his footsteps retreating hastily. He was too scared to stay for a minute longer.
With the threat vanquished, you let out a shaky breath, the tension leaving your body. "Thank you," you whispered, gratitude lacing every word. "I don't know what I would have done without you." He released you from his protective embrace, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're safe now," he assured you, his voice filled with genuine concern.
For the rest of your shopping trip, Kyle remained by your side, his presence offering you an unspoken reassurance. Together, you navigated the aisles, filling the cart with groceries while engaging in lighthearted banter and getting to know each other.
After Paying for the groceries your ways split and you were thankful that he helped you out of the situation. He was glad he could save yet another life.
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