then the nickname slipped
pairing: owner!simon “ghost” riley x pet!reader
summary: your boyfriend thinks it’s time to claim you
you don’t know how your relationship with your boyfriend became this, not being able to pinpoint the exact switch, but you’re not complaining!
simon noticed your submissive tendencies in his first conversation with you, the way you couldn’t hold eye contact, stuttered over your words when he placed a big hand over your thigh, calling him “sir” when answering his questions. oh, you were just perfect for the brit.
so it came as no surprise to the man when you started exhibiting signs.
you’d greet your boyfriend at the front door every time he’d come home, feet shuffling down the hallway when you heard his key twisting the lock. some days, your excitement for your boyfriend’s return overrides every neural pathway in your brain, you opting into napping in front of the front door while waiting for simon, tiny body curled up for warmth. “m’ sweetheart waitin’ for m’, hmm? she miss m’?” he’d coo, bending down to your spot on the floor, caressing your precious head.
he’s sitting at his desk at home, desperately trying to catch up on his paperwork from his last mission, when he sees your tiny body appear in the doorway. simon, dropping everything he was doing, “ya need somethin’, luvie’?” accent gruff. you walk over to him, “can i just sit with you, sir?” barely above a whisper. wanting to see where you were going with this, your boyfriend nods his head, rolling his chair back. he watches you step towards him, reaching his arms out to hold you when you drop to the floor, the brute’s confused features dissolving when he realizes what you’re doing. crawling underneath his desk, perching yourself in between his massive legs, head quiescent on his size 13 boot. this ultimately became the new norm in simon’s home office, your boyfriend surprising you with a fluffy pink rug to settle on. he hated the thought of you lying for hours on his hard, cold floor while he worked, making a change when he recognized your continuous behavior. a satisfied purr leaving you as you scurried to your new mat, “thank you so much, sir!”
the brute took it a step further, waiting a few weeks to observe the way you interacted with your first present, before he decided it was time to move forward, to advance you.
you’re laying on your rug, feet on top of your boyfriend’s, when you feel him move backwards, “m’ have somethin’ for ya,” his eyes roam across your body, “c’mere’,” he motions his fingers towards his sweet girlfriend. you’re on your hands and knees without delay, crawling to simon’s side, sitting on your shins when you’re freed from the desk. he reaches his arm to you, large hand swallowing your cheek, “such a good girl,” swiping his thumb over your lip, “so obedient.” a whimper leaves you, the brit tsking, turning away. he smirks when he feels you squirming for more of his attention, grabbing two bowls from his desk, a pink, heart-shaped one and a yellow, star-shaped one, your eyes lighting up at the gifts. “sometimes we can be in here for a long time, can’t we, baby?” he’s talking to you again, gaze peering down at you through his mask. he waits for you to nod your head, “love feedin’ ya snacks, givin’ ya water on those days. makes m’ heart happy, takin’ care of yer pretty self,” your heart melts, the man ruffling your hair. “tha’s why m’ got ya these,” your boyfriend hands the bowls to you, “think it’ll be easier to snack with.” what a great decision, you now having a nest man cave in your favorite place! simon loved this too, admiring the curvature of your round ass when you arched your back for snack time, the bowls teetering when your head hit the sides. why didn’t he think to get you these bowls sooner!
then the nickname slipped, a silent pause taking place between the two lovers. your boyfriend’s massive body sat on the couch, your back laid across his meaty thighs. the man was rubbing your stomach, low purrs escaping you, heavenly sounds healing each crack in simon’s soul when he said it, “oh, little pup like tha’?” the two of you may as well have been in a staring contest, both parties unsure of what to say, how to fill in the awkward gaps. then you took a leap of faith, “yes, sir,” another purr departing your chest as you nuzzled your stomach into his hand, “wan’ more, sir.” and who was simon to resist his sweet, little pup?
it took simon a few more weeks to wager the correct time to present his next gifts to you, the man wanting to be wholeheartedly confident in his suspicions of you. he didn’t want to scare you, run his beautiful girlfriend off. the bloke couldn’t be separated from you, knowing you were it for him. it would shatter him knowing he was the reason you left, but, simon would always bet on himself.
“sit, little pup,” you heard your boyfriend command, seeing him point to the spot beside him. you’re over to him instantly, knees supporting your weight as your doe eyes look up to his. he kneels down, his giant stature still hovering over your smaller form, “ya been a real good, little pup. so, so good,” he’s petting your head, smiling at your energetic bouncing, you loved when he praised you! “needed to get ya somethin’. show ya how proud m’ am of ya.” it comes into view, your boyfriend’s gripping a pink, sparkly collar, along with a pink leash to match, “m’ little pup, ya wan’ to be claim by m’?” eager nods took place, your boyfriend stumbling back when you threw yourself into his arms, little body wrapping around his as he catches his balance. “i would love to, sir! i wanna’ be your pup,” you couldn’t stop your nudging against simon, the brit returning the affection, rubbing his girlfriend’s back.
you wear the pretty collar everywhere, only choosing to take it off when you had to shower. you loved being owned by your compassionate boyfriend, not caring what people in public thought about your new necklace. your owner was the only person that mattered! and he told you you looked beautiful in it! he wouldn’t lie to you, besides, people wouldn’t stare at you for too long, eventually seeing the hand that was holding your leash, and fuck, was your boyfriend a terrifying sight? the deadly glares he would send the blokes? you wouldn’t try him either. i mean, the man was an ex-trained military lieutenant who used to kill people, come on!
and the sex he would have with his little pup? pulling on your leash, the pretty collar choking you as he thrusted into your tight cunt. tears escaping your eyes as you tried to catch your breath, face turning red from the lack of air. “pathetic little, bitch,” your boyfriend grunts, loving the way your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. releasing the collar, he kisses your cheek, intoxicated on the critical sounds of air making its way to your lungs.
or when he’d be standing in front of his body mirror, hand clinging your leash as you’re sat in front of him. “go ahead, pup,” his free hand waves to your reflection, “get to work.” your grinding your pussy against his boot, moans splitting from you when you feel your clit brush against the tip. “tha’s right,” you quicken your pace, hands moving to the floor to steady yourself, “watch ya fuck yerself on m’ dirty shoe,” he pulls the leash up, collar making your head raise to see yourself better in the mirror.
god, all the things your owner could do with you. such a perfect pup you are!
