training day

by Anonymous

Summary:

namor knows that brining shuri home had been a mistake.

Chapter 1

namor knows that brining shuri home had been a mistake. there’s not a single obedient bone in the hybrid’s body – she never listens when namor tells her not to play with her food, not to pounce when namor’s friends come over and she has to be locked in his room so she wouldn’t make a mess, or to stop fucking squirming every time namor tries to make her a bath.

at some point in their three month long adventure, despite his better judgment and shuri’s consistent disobedience, namor had grown fond of his kitten and her soft ears, straight teeth and obnoxiously loud voice.

“have you ever considered,” one of his best friends, attuma, asks through a large gulp of coffee from his mug, elbows resting on the counter top of the kitchen island, “having her, you know, examined”

namor’s body stiffens at the thought, and he can practically feel shuri doing the same in her position on namor’s expensive leather couch. the kitten had been stretching and lazing around previously but namor sees her halting in her movements and inwardly curses how she can sense them even at such a distance, “i don’t think that will be necessary,” namor whispers to him, but attuma doesn’t get the memo, apparently, because he continues at the same tone of voice – too loud , “i know you’re worried about the rumors, but she’ll be just fine. they all come out alive from there.”

“i am not sending shuri to that place,” namor all but shouts, startling even himself. 

the way he says it is so cold, so heartless, that there’s commotion behind them and they both turn around to look at shuri’s wide eyes, lips forming into a sad pout. she even sniffles. namor’s chest soars at the image.

his hand reaches out for her, to comfort his kitten or something – namor will come up with anything just to keep the hybrid from crying – but shuri is out of the room before either of them can say a word – attuma his apology, and namor his reassurance.

“well, now you’ve done it,” namor groans, holding his head in his hands. attuma smiles apologetically but he doesn’t look truly sorry.

“well,” he says instead, “you would’ve at least avoided that if you had her trained.”

he knows attuma cares but – does he really care that much? “i think it’s time for you to go,” namor says with a sigh.

attuma agrees with a nod, swallowing down the remnants of the coffee in his mug in two large gulps and setting it in the sink, “i’m just saying,” he pats namor’s shoulder on his way out, after putting on his shoes and winter coat, “consider it. you said it yourself – she ruins your stuff on purpose. doesn’t listen to you – on purpose . at least look up some breeding tips, that should calm her down.”

“i’ll consider it,” namor says just to get him off his back, and just like that, attuma is gone. namor watches him until he disappears in the elevator and only then does he return back to his apartment, pushing the door closed until he hears the satisfying click of the automatic lock.

he gently rests his forehead against the polished wood of the door, sighing to himself. what in the world is he going to say to shuri now? the hybrid is a stray – namor picked her up unplanned one night while walking back home from work instead of taking the usual route with the subway, after seeing the cat-girl freezing herself to death dressed in barely anything. she’s never been anyone’s pet – and namor certainly hasn’t considered her as one. definitely not his pet.

his intention was never to let shuri stay – but the kitten hasn’t left his apartment after the first night had passed and namor didn’t have the heart to tell her to go. and, if namor is honest with himself, it’s kind of nice to have some company. another to come back to after ten hours of tedious work at the company he manages, rather than spending nights alone staring at the window.

the mere prospect of sending shuri to an examiner – namor shudders again just thinking about it. he’s seen examined pets be sent off to trainers – he’s seen the broken looks in their eyes, how they flinch at even the slightest sudden movement in fear of being hit, how they never leave their master’s side and ask permission for smallest things. 

and namor despises it. he despises the whole concept of owning a creature, like they’re a property. there are too many friends in his circle with the mentality that hybrids are nothing but toys to play around with and flaunt at fancy parties and namor wants absolutely no part in that.

but attuma – and so many others – don’t and never will understand what it's like to see genuine excitement on a shuri’s face upon his return. as hard as namor tries not to think of it like that, there’s always that moment of peace that gathers within him when he walks into the living room and sees shuri asleep on the couch after marathoning new dramas, then asking for food immediately after namor rouses her awake.

and namor wouldn’t trade it for anything, even if it means changing his pillows every month because shuri’s decided to rip them apart to make herself a nest out of the feathers hidden inside.

“you’re not going to send me away, are you?” 

he’s startled from his thoughts by a weak voice behind him. he doesn’t get to turn around before shuri’s thin arms are wrapped around his waist, shuri’s front plastered to namor’s back. the hybrid’s nose is buried in the crook of namor’s neck and it’s the closest they’ve been since namor ‘adopted’ her. the action causes goosebumps to rise along his skin and a warmth sets his stomach ablaze.

“of course not,” he answers instantly and with satisfaction he feels shuri relax against him. she doesn’t pull away, however, and they just stand there, a bit awkwardly, while namor’s open palm pets her exposed forearm. when shuri finally lets go, namor turns around to see her familiar wide grin and he smiles to himself, too.

“let’s go to sleep, then?” shuri asks and namor nods, allowing shuri to lead him to the hall whete their bedrooms are, one across from the other.

“i’ll be good,” shuri adds before they part, so quietly that namor isn’t sure if she’s even said anything at all, “good night, master.”

“stop calling me that,” namor scolds her, but just like always, shuri doesn’t listen to him. she gives him a small wave and disappears behind the doors of her bedroom and namor shakes his head as he enters his own bedroom.

 

---

 

namor probably shouldn’t allow shuri to twirl him around her little finger like a hula-hoop. even sam, tells him that, and his team lead is one of the more generous hybrid owners namor knows. sam’s pet isn’t trained either but bucky is a brat to everyone besides his master, whereas shuri enjoys seeing namor suffer specifically.

“tried to run another bath?” sam asks as soon as namor enters his office with two large scratches across his cheek. namor’s nod is enough to send his co-worker into a fit of laughter, “man, you need to get her a collar already.”

“nope,” namor tells her, “shuri doesn’t like collars.”

“neither does bucky, but he knows he has to wear them,” sam says proudly, like it’s something to gloat about. namor scoffs.

“well it’s not like i haven’t tried,” namor defends himself. it’s an adventure he doesn’t really like to remember, because it ended with him having to clean up the remnants of his favorite vase off the floor while shuri swished her tail in his face, “she just causes more of a mess that way, so i let her be. it’s not like she leaves the house anyway.”

“you should take her out for a walk,” sam suggests, “get her used to a leash too.”

“i’m not putting a leash on her, what the fuck,” he straightens himself up in his position, fixes his tie and checks the clock, “five minutest till eight. start working or i’m taking every minute wasted out of your paycheck.”

he uses his business tone so that sam knows he’s not joking around. 

“you got it, boss,” sam salutes and exits the office and as such, namor forgets about their entire conversation ever happening.

 

---

 

in all of his short forty-six years, including the ones he’s spent in his hometown back when his parents were still alive, namor was seen frowning only a handful of times. 

namor knows he has to act. a collar is supposed to be the first step, a sign of stability, of belonging—but without registering shuri, it’s nothing more than a gesture, one that feels increasingly hollow the longer he delays. he rubs a hand down his face, the weight of the situation making his workload completely impossible to handle. 

shuri is not like the others he’s seen, those perfectly prim hybrids with their polished manners and obedient stares. no, she’s wild, untamed in every way that matters. and he doesn’t want to cage her, not really. the thought makes his skin crawl. but keeping her unregistered leaves her vulnerable, and namor can’t stomach that either.

he swears under his breath, pacing the length of his office. the memory of that freezing night keeps playing in his head, vivid and haunting. her frail body trembling in the biting wind, her tail wrapped tightly around her legs as if she could shield herself from the cold. she hadn’t asked for help, not with her words or her wide, defiant eyes, but namor had known. he’d known he couldn’t walk away.

his tightens his fists, nails pressing crescents into his palms as he remembers the way she’d looked that night. fragile, her wide, golden eyes staring up at him from under a mess of wet curls, too proud to ask for help but too weak to push it away.

he hadn’t planned to stop. he didn’t even like cats. but something about her had frozen him mid-step, some unnamable instinct driving him forward before he could think better of it. he remembers peeling off his coat and draping it around her narrow shoulders, the way she flinched at first, as if expecting a blow instead of warmth.

“you’ll die out here,” he’d said, his voice flat but his heart already twisting painfully in his chest. she didn’t answer, only huddled deeper into the coat as if testing its protection, her ears flattening against her head.

taking her home had been a mistake. letting her stay had been a bigger one. she had never been housed and immediately clawed at the furniture, stole his clothes, and resisted his every attempt at structure. and yet, she stayed. namor wanted her to stay, and now she has burrowed into his life like she belonged there.

she’s not his. she can’t be. but the truth is as suffocating as it is undeniable: namor can’t lose her. 

 

---

shuri isn’t naughty because she’s mean – she likes to make a mess because she wants to see just how far namor is willing to let things go. nothing shuri’s done so far, though, has caused a stronger reaction other than an annoyed sigh and an eye roll from him though.

there’s some bitterness in shuri that makes her break things only to watch namor put them back together again simply because of their different social status. deep down, she knows it’s unfair of her to put namor through hard times when the man has never given any indication that he considers shuri as anything less than his equal. it’s almost like he can sense shuri hates being a hybrid – or maybe he’s doing it for his own moral reasons. shuri likes to believe it’s the former.

most of the time, shuri wishes she was born as something else. raised on the streets since birth, she’s seen plenty of her friends get picked up by random drunken rich people or kennel owners who later sell them to pet stores for high prices. nothing good ever comes out of those ordeals for the hybrids – a part of shuri will forever remain fighting to the norms that allow such awful things to happen, and legally at that.

but namor… namor is different. he doesn’t yell or threaten shuri with violence. he gave up on the collar as soon as shuri showed her dislike towards it. (well, now maybe she wouldn’t mind it as much. but she’d never admit that out loud, of course.) he feeds her regularly, and has even given her the spacious guest room to use as her own, and despite the thick wall that separates them, shuri is grateful for her heightened senses because she can hear namor’s regular breathing as clear as if he is there next to her while she’s sleeping.

and there’s also namor’s addictive scent, one which shuri’s grown very fond of in the very first week of their acquaintance. it’s musky and his pheromones accentuate and mix with his favorite cologne and sometimes, shuri likes to lie on namor’s bed while waiting for him to come home just to sniff his bedsheets without the other knowing.

today is one of those days – but it doesn’t go as planned at all. for once, shuri’s impeccable senses fail her and she doesn’t hear the framed picture on namor’s nightstand rattling on time while she stretches her long limbs all across namor’s bed. by the time she notices, the damage is already done – she watches in horror as the frame falls to the floor and shatters into a million pieces. in a last attempt to save at least the picture, shuri spirals forward to grab the paper with her clawed fingers, misses and ends up smashing into the opposite wall, bringing the art piece hanging on it down with her as well.

it’s the state namor finds her in – one half of the picture in her hand, the painting around her throat like a necklace, and the frame scattered across the laminate – and shuri doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she’s now finally, majorly, royally Fucked Up with all capitals, since namor’s eyes are all but piercing her. Holding her at a standstill. 

but nothing, nothing , could prepare shuri for the the sudden disappointed look namor gives her. when he drops to his knees to carefully touch the broken pieces, searching for the rest of the picture, “ naa ,” he mutters, over and over, and shuri’s heart swells, “mom - no.”

shuri glances at the part of the picture he’s still holding. it’s a smiling woman, braided hair and with her arms wrapped around someone whose body is missing – shuri takes a wild guess that it’s her master. a shadow looms over her and when she looks up, namor’s hand is extended, almost poking her in the nose.

shuri knows what he wants – it’s not her hand to help her get up, but the smiling woman. so she gently places her in namor’s palm and tries not to flinch too obviously when namor mutters, “get out,” at her. 

she nearly laughs at the irony. with her tail between her legs shuri leaves the room and spares a short glance back, only to have the door slammed into her face.

shuri sinks to her knees, back resting against the door.

you’ve gotten what you’ve wanted, you idiot , she tells herself, failing to block out namor’s cries coming from the inside of his bedroom, you’ve pushed him to the limit .

 

---

she sleeps in front of namor’s room that night, although sleep is a fairly incorrect term – she’s mostly falling in and out of consciousness, suffering dreams in which namor throws her out in the streets again, tells her to get out and never come back again. some of the worst ones have her running away from trainers, the sting and crack of a hit as clear as day in her ears. shuri is unsure how long she waits, curled up and whimpering every time mean looking men almost grab her tail while namor laughs in the background, but she’s roused from her nightmares when the door opens and reveals her master’s disheveled form, tired eyes and cheeks swollen and damp from crying.

“i’m going out,” he tells her, sharp and cold, “there’s food in the fridge.”

he disappears down the hallway without giving shuri a chance to apologize or say anything at all. she’s not even fully aware of her surroundings when namor leaves without any sort of goodbye.

it’s on shaky feet that shuri drags herself to the kitchen, rummaging through cold shelves of food, but nothing she sees appears appetizing. then she spots frozen meat in the far back but it’s raw and not how namor makes it, complete with fried vegetables and spices and numerous side dishes shuri enjoys so much. she sniffs at it, wondering if she can eat it like this. 

attempting to cook would end up in an even bigger disaster and the last thing she needs is to give namor another reason to be angry, so shuri puts the meat back where she’s found it and makes herself comfortable on the couch to watch a drama on tv.

despite it being a new episode of her favorite, even the fucked up love lives of fictional characters fail to keep her mind preoccupied from worrying. is namor still upset? has he managed to fix the photo? surely all it takes is some hotglue and a new frame and it should be as good as new – namor must’ve simply overreacted. maybe that’s why he’s went out. or maybe he’s never going to come back – shuri stops a pathetic whine from leaving her throat at the thought. 

but maybe – maybe it’s even worse. maybe namor’s gone out to get a trainer.

it’s a ridiculous idea – of course namor wouldn’t go back on his word. although, when shuri thinks better of it, namor’s never explicitly promised he wouldn’t send her to a trainer.

her least favorite character crashes his car, but shuri’s stomach fills with anxiety instead of glee. there’s no way- of course namor wouldn’t- he’d never do something like that. never.

she hears the front door being unlocked, and her first instinct is to look up at the wall clock to check the time. has it truly been three hours since namor’s left? it seems like twenty minutes, at most. but when shuri peeks behind her to the large windows, the sun is nearing it’s highest point, and the clock isn’t lying when it says it’s already ten a.m.

shuri gets up, slowly walking towards the hallway where namor is shedding his coat and shoes, a plastic bag in his hand. he’s dressed differently than when he left – his t-shirt has been replaced by a one of his tailed dress shirt’s he wears to work, straining against his biceps as he moves, making shuri gulp down nothing while she watches, completed by a silky black tie and jet black pants. he must’ve gone shopping to take his mind off things – that would explain the bag.

“shuri,” namor greets her when their gazes meet but shuri stays rooted to the spot.

“hi…” she says tentatively, unsure what she’s supposed to do next.

the tension between them is palpable, yet namor acts as if nothing’s wrong, patting at his coat to rid it of excess snow from outside rather than keeping eye contact with the young hybrid.

namor keeps his expensive shoes on, rather than slide into his slippers and takes a step towards shuri. she leaps from her spot and attempts to wrap around her master like vice, “i’m sorry,” she murmurs, refusing to budge when namor tries to move her away.

“it’s alright,” namor says, slightly out of breath, “you didn’t know.”

“i didn’t mean to do it,” shuri continues, hot tears gathering in her eyes and already threatening to spill, “please, master i-”

namor is putting an arm’s length distance between them to shake the plastic bag he’s still holding. shuri is silent as she watches him pull out a collar out of the bag – sleek black, fine leather with a golden loop in the middle for the leash. 

her eyes widen as namor speaks, “that picture was very important to me, shuri,” he eyes the collar, fingers gliding over the material. a strange smile widens when he sees shuri’s throat work when she swallows, “it’s the last physical memory i have of my mother.”

“i’m sor-” shuri tries again.

“stop,” namor says and it makes shuri take a pause. then, “i know you are,” his voice is smooth and low when he speaks. if it weren’t for her heightened senses, shuri probably wouldn’t’ve heard him, “but i think i’ve let you have your fun without consequences for far too long.”

shuri’s stomach flares at the words, a strange mixture of fear and something not entirely unrecognizable. she can feel the animal in her stirring, wishing to both fight and submit to the tone namor’s speaking to her with, “if you’re going to stay here, we’re going to have to set some rules.”

namor’s careful when he slips the collar around shuri’s throat, settling it at the very base, right below her jawline. the hybrid is unnaturally still as her master works on it, uncertain where to look. namor’s fingers hook around the loop at the front, pulling shuri forward so they’re at an eye-level and shuri visibly shakes, the collar snagging against her skin – yet, she doesn’t throw a fit like the last time. in fact, the discomfort is almost welcomed now; anything, just to have namor continue looking at her like he wants to train her.

it hits shuri then, when her eyes catch namor’s tongue darting out to wet his lips and stay there – she’s aroused . and it’s equal amounts unsettling and exciting at the same time.

namor smells too good to be making suggestions like that, and he’s so close, it’s too good. it makes shuri want things that only feel more wrong because they don't feel wrong at all. just getting his hands this close makes her want to knock him down and rub herself against namor’s skin until her scent is permanently imprinted there; webbing out a scar underneath the skin in burning, invisible lines that say ' mine ' to anyone with the right senses to recognize them, marking namor up in a way so intimate that his human body can't even process it. 

“this pretty thing,” namor speaks up again, and it’s much rougher this time, giving shuri the pleasure of knowing he’s just as affected too, “stays on.”

“y-yes,” shuri agrees without thinking. either way, it’s too late to take it back now – she’s not being particularly subtle about how much she likes it. her slick already flowing.

“yes, what?” namor demands, tightening the hold he has on the loop, bringing shuri even closer to his face while simultaneously restricting her airflow. 

it’s sick how much she has to fight her instinct, but just the barest tug of the collar and that feeling instantly just melts under the weight of how right it all is, this, namor all around her, everything she can smell and feel and taste.

“yes, m-master,” shuri finally answers. the new title feels foreign on her tongue but it’s worth the pleased glint in namor’s eye when she says it. and just like that, he lets her go and the moment is broken.

her blood still burns through her entire being – her slick trailing down her thighs – and it makes the whole situation all the more awkward. she suddenly isn’t sure what to do.

“go to your room and try not to break anything else,” namor says, turning away from her, “i’ll make us dinner.”

“yes,” shuri says, “master,” she says on her own, satisfied with how namor’s shoulders freeze for a split, barely noticeable second, before relaxing again.

there’s a way for them both to enjoy this turn of events, shuri thinks.

and she’s more than excited to see how it will play out.

 

---

shuri has a habit of touching herself at night, it’s barley suppressed now that namor has finally collared her.

her fingers rub at her center, pushing into her wet folds until she finds relief. her other hand curls into the fabric of namor’s worn shirt, soft and frayed at the edges from her constant handling. She buries her face in it, inhaling deeply, the musk threading through her senses like an intoxicating spell. 

she wonders if he knows how much she craves this. how the collar around her neck has her feeling claimed and thrilled. it’s snug, an unspoken promise of discipline and something sweeter she dares not name. her tail flicks beneath her as she paces herself strokes, restless, imagining his voice, the way it cuts through her rebellious streak and settles her all at once. she doesn’t understand why he’s so patient with her, why he lets her get away with these little acts of defiance.

then, tugging at the collar snug around her throat, she lets out a quiet, pleased whine.

she knows exactly how it hugs his body, snug across his broad shoulders and tapering at his lean waist. The thought sends heat creeping up her cheeks, her ears twitching at the thrill of imagining his reaction if he found her like this, surrounded by the evidence of her little thefts, her nose buried in his scent like some untamed creature. her tail swishes lazily behind her, the anticipation building as her fingers clutch the shirt tighter.

this one is special. namor wears it often, and that alone makes it precious to shuri. if she’s lucky—and shuri always counts on her luck—he’ll come looking for it.

it’s irresistible to imagine the knock at her door, the subtle irritation in his eyes when he sees her guilt writ plain across her face. then, he’ll step into her space, closer than he should, filling her room with his scent, his presence, his quiet, inescapable authority. The thought makes her tug at her collar again, her excitement bubbling over as her whole body twitches with her want. 

she can almost hear his voice now—low and firm, edged with that rare frustration 

would he sigh in that exasperated way of his, or would he lean in close, voice low and commanding, until she was pinned by both his words and his gaze? that alone is enough to make her toes curl, her chest nearly vibrating with a purr she struggles to suppress.

her gaze drifts to the window. It’s late, and he hasn’t come to her yet. he’ll find out eventually—he always does. and when he does, he’ll sigh, half exasperated and half something else. fondness, maybe? she doesn’t dare hope.

shuri pulls the shirt closer, a soft rumbling intensifying in her chest. maybe this time, she thinks, her master will stay long enough to train her properly.

Chapter 2

the newly framed photo of namor’s mom is set away from the bed, on top of the dresser, among other things. he glances at her knowing she’d chide him for taking in stray like shuri. especially after all that’s happened this week. 

but still, he can’t find it in himself to put shuri out. he wouldn’t even entertain the thought.

she’s his kitten now, whether he had planned for it or not.

and so, he does what he can to care for her because she needs him. feeding her is simple enough, something he’s mastered over the past few months. shuri has never missed a meal, not once, and her energy never seems to lack. 

namor takes pause on e he had his wallet in his pocket, thinking. he considers every snack he’s had swiped over the last three months and the amount of savings he’s lost to shuri’s appetite. her strength may suggest something more exotic and that was more than likely to get her taken away by an examiner. 

“shuri,” namor calls out to her. it’s a habit now. 

she pokes her head from the other side of the door, always lurking near.

“yes, master?” her tail lazily sways behind her when she steps into his room, her legs stick out from his shirt in a welcoming display. she has lithe muscle there and her steps fall into a natural stride as she comes his way. 

namor doesn’t respond immediately, leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed. his gaze lingers on her for a moment. the title, master, it’s something he still has to grow use to.

shuri, she’s adapting faster than he expected, too fast for his comfort. too comfortable with him, with the collar around her neck, with the title on her lips.

and namor shouldn’t be tense. it was his decision to bring her here, to keep her. he’d taken on the responsibility willingly. but every time she calls him master, the word lands like a stone in his chest, heavy and unrelenting. shuri, however, seems utterly unbothered.

“am i in trouble?” she asks. 

inviting her back into his room, it’s a reward in a way, for being good and keeping her collar on. it still sits snugly against her neck, the small metal loop glinting faintly in the light. shuri’s been wearing it without protest, which is more than he expected after their initial clash.

“what is it?” his kitten tilts her head, blinking up at him with those wide, golden eyes that manage to look both curious and unimpressed. 

“you’ve been… good.” the word feels strange when relating to shuri, but it’s the truth. she’s been obedient, cooperative, even playful. he gestures to the bed with a tilt of his head. “you can stay in here while i’m gone.”

“you’re leaving again?” her ears perk up, and her tail flicks once, betraying a flash of  annoyance that she doesn’t try to hide. “really?”

“i’ll be back, i just need to go get you some proper clothes.”

if she stayed hidden in the room he gave her, content with his old shirts and blankets, things could be fine. namor hadn’t thought much of it at first; he’d been focused on providing her a safe space, food, and comfort. socialization had seemed like a distant concern, but now…

namor pauses again, giving shuri a onceover  

he knows if he were directly behind shuri he’d begin to see the back hem rise with the motion of her tail, revealing her smooth rich skin inch by inch. her thighs, and then higher. up, up and up until namor mutters under his breath, cursing his imagination. 

every time shuri’s tail sways in delight, his oversized shirts revealed far more than namor was comfortable seeing. and what’s worse, others could see and they would judge. 

attuma had felt plenty comfortable suggesting breeding tips. the thought of walking with shuri in such a state has namor grinding his teeth, his jaw tightening.

it’s been a short time since he brought her into his life, and the shift has been abrupt. jarring. and yet, somehow, he’s gotten used to the sight of her around his apartment, wearing his shirts as though they were made for her, her small frame swimming in the fabric. her hips are hidden but the soft fur of her tail sweeps across his face, swaying and rising the hem of his shirt to show more skin.

“i like your clothes.” the pout in her face is too much and namor had to look away. 

“we have to set boundaries.” when he says this he’s reminding himself too. 

shuri purrs softly, maybe in acknowledgment. she must have her own exasperation for their predicament, but she doesn’t seem to take his declaration seriously. 

“boundaries,” she repeats, and it sound a mocking. “yes, master.”

namor knows better than to underestimate her ability to twist a situation to her liking. “don’t make me regret letting you in here.”

shuri purrs again, her tail swishing sweeping his face as she passes by, though thankfully lower this time. she saunters over to his bed and jumps into the unmade sheets to stretch out. 

namor can’t help the laugh that escapes him, soft and low. “stay here.”

fangs flash, and shuri shifts further into the bed, her tail curling around her leg as she sniffs at the sheets beneath her.

“i’m not going anywhere,” she says with a contented hum, her arms stretching over her head. with no shame whatsoever, she turns her head into his pillow, burrowing her face. 

shuri is a stray. namor has to remind himself time and again. shuri’s not used to a home, rules, not even the basics of wearing clothes that fit. he sighs as he closes the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to collect his thoughts. he knows the need to integrate her into the outside world. shuri needs to learn how to behave in public, and for that, she needs structure. a reward system. her own clothes. 

as he grabs his jacket and locks the door behind him, his thoughts drift back to when he first found her. what had she been wearing that night? torn leggings? a threadbare sweater? he couldn’t quite remember, only the image of her small, shivering frame standing out in the cold.

since then, he’d offered her little more than his old shirts and the occasional pair of socks. she always seemed so grateful, curling up in the oversized fabric like it was a prized possession. namor had never given it much thought and he loved seeing her in his clothes, to be honest. it was a strange sort of comfort, a simple reminder of her place in his home.

but now, with the collar around her throat, the sleek black band resting against his kitten’s soft brown skin, something had to shift. 

 

 

 

namor had vowed never to set foot in that pet store again. the first visit had been humiliating enough with the barrage of invasive questions, the barely veiled implications from the staff about what kind of person he is. yet here he was, again. walking toward the store, his thoughts a tangled mess.

the last visit had been a round of intrusive questions, every one of them digging deeper than he was willing to go. now, the thought of enduring another round made his skin itch.

the staff had been too curious, their questions piling up faster than he could deflect them.

“what type of hybrid is she?”

“she seems rare. did you find her through a breeder?”

“is she a domestic?”

“does she respond well to bells?”

“will you need a name tag, or do you already have one?”

“maybe a few toys for enrichment?”

namor had gritted his teeth through the barrage, shaking his head at every suggestion. he waved them off one by one, his answers clipped and deliberately vague. when they tried to sell him toys and other paraphernalia, he shut that down immediately. 

his jaw tightens as he steps through the sliding doors of the pet store, greeted immediately by an overly chipper man in a bright vest.

“welcome back! you were here yesterday, right?”

namor gives a tight nod. “a few days ago.”

the young man, peter, according to his name tag, smiles, clearly not picking up on namor’s grim demeanor. “looking for anything specific today? we just got these really cute ribbons.”

“no,” namor answers curtly, stepping past peter and toward the clothing section. “i’ll manage on my own.”

the clerk’s gaze lingers as namor moves through the aisles, but he ignores it, focusing instead on the racks of hybrid clothing ahead. his eyes scan the options: stretchy fabrics, built-in tail slits, and sizes clearly meant to accommodate all manner of hybrid anatomy.

leashes and collars were straightforward, he plucked a plain black one with a simple buckle from the display rack. but when it came to clothing, the selection was far more intimidating. the racks were full of clothing for hybrids, but none of it could be called practical. rows of frilly tops, short skirts, and barely-there outfits lined the shelves and aisle, clearly designed for bedmates rather than pets.

namor groans heavily as he glances over the options, his hand hovering over a rack of simple shorts and loose-fitting tops. functional, modest, and most importantly simple. he didn’t need her tail lifting any skirts are dresses in public, exposing more than he cared to see. or for anyone else to see.

as he grabbed a few pieces to his basket, he caught the eye of another shopper. namor felt the gaze before he saw it—a subtle prickle at the back of his neck. turning his head, he caught sight of a middle-aged woman with a snake hybrid trailing at her side. she was smiling at him in a way that immediately put him on edge.

the woman’s smile widened as though she found his discomfort amusing. “you’re a new owner, aren’t you?”

 “something like that.”

“thought so,” she said, her eyes flitting to the plain black clothing looped over his arm. “you can always tell by what they pick out. first-timers always go for the boring stuff.”

namor’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to argue. “i’ll keep that in mind,” he said, turning to head down a different aisle nstead on standing here, surrounded by ridiculous garments, trying to find something functional. something that won’t make him grind his teeth in frustration every time he sees shuri wearing it.

grabbing a few more simple pieces from a nearby rack, namor hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps.

“finding what you need?” a clerk asks, suddenly at his side. 

namor suppresses a groan, keeping his tone even. “yes, thank you.”

she leans slightly closer, as if sharing a secret. “you know, if you’re still figuring out her breed, we have some great reference materials. rare hybrids can be tricky to care for if you don’t know what they need. we can examine her, if you’d like to bring her in.”

namor couldn’t help but stiffen, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, reading her nametag. “are you an examiner, gwen?”

“oh, no!” the clerk raises her hands in mock surrender. “just thought i’d mention it.”

namor doesn’t reply, focusing on moving to the register where another clerk without a nametag scans up his selections, tossing in a few pamphlets on hybrid care. namor doesn’t protest, they’ll end up in the trash later, anyway.

“and how about something special?” the clerk suddenly says, holding up a jingling charm shaped like a star. “hybrids really appreciate personalization.”

“she’s fine as she is.” namor’s tone is final.

and so, he leaves the pet store with what shuri needs and hopefully these items wouldn’t make him feel like a fool.

 

 

 

namor’s fingers hover over his keyboard, his eyes narrowing as sam strolls into his office. he’s one of the more efficient workers which, unfortunately, means he has more free time to roam the office. 

“so,” sam begins, leaning against the doorframe. “how’s the pet training?”

namor doesn’t look up immediately, finishing the line of text he’s working on before turning his gaze upward. he keeps his expression carefully blank. “shuri,” he says evenly, “is not a pet.”

sam’s eyebrows shoot up, a grin appearing on his face. “oh, taking it a step further, huh? what is she, then?”

namor’s lips press into a thin line. 

unbothered, sam presses on. “hey, i get it. it’s a process.” his grin already betraying the teasing tone until he says, “she hasn’t been examined.” his words are more perfunctory than inquisitive. 

namor’s fingers stop against the keyboard, as he looks over the screen. “no.” 

“bucky was a handful at first, too.” sam chuckles, leaning further into the office. “listen, let me tell you something. just wait until she gets into her heat. that’s when things really get interesting. bucky wore me out the first time, but, man, he was on his best behavior afterward. worth every second.”

leaning back in his chair, namor’s stare hardens, his hands lowering to his lap. a soft exhale leaves his lips slowly, as though willing his patience to stretch just a little further. 

“hey, i’m just saying!” sam’s grin falters slightly, but only for a moment. “it’s part of the process, you know? it’s what they don’t tell you in all this pamphlets. we can do this shit ourselves. it builds trust, gets them in line. you’ll thank me later.”

without a response, namor turns his focus back to the computer screen, his fingers resuming their steady rhythm across the keys.

sam shrugs and pushes off the doorframe. “damn alright, alright. keep playing it your way, i guess. just don’t act surprised when nature takes over. ”

 

 

 

namor keeps his steps measured, his grip on the leash firm but not harsh, keeping shuri next to him is easy when she won't let go of his forearm. her eyes dart around the neighborhood a with curiosity she won’t admit aloud. in a way, seems excited. her tail is held at a poignant curl. 

he wonders what they must look like: an obviously new…relationship. namor has always been good at compartmentalizing and drawing the sharp, clean lines that keep his life in order. paperwork was easy. filing the registration forms was easy – a blur of scanning, stamping, and invasive questions. name, address vaccinations and pedigree. ticking the boxes was much harder. he didn’t own shuri – he handled her and he definitely he wasn’t a breeder.

shuri catches his expression but says nothing, her golden eyes watching him curiously as they focus goes back and forth between him and the neighborhood. 

he can tell shuri is unsure of how to go about this just as much as he is. her ears flick upward as they near a more crowded area: the park. 

“do people usually stare this much?” 

“they’re staring because you’re so beautiful, kitten.” at his words shuri’s hold loosens and namor thanks the gods quietly, relieved to have a moment’s reprieve from her stubborn clutch.  

and, to be fair, he wasn’t lying. they new clothes he’d bought her suited her better than he expected. the deep black of the two-piece outfit hugs her frame perfectly, the sleek fabric accentuating the velvety melanin of her fur and providing a striking contrast to the rich brown of her skin.

“you’re staring too,” shuri teases, her laugh is a low, throaty sound that feels lighter than her usual defiant tone. 

for a moment, she forgets the crowd, walking with a bit more ease beside him as her eyes flit around the park. she hugs his arm to her chest, her tail swaying lazily behind them.

“you’re handling this better than i expected,” namor admits after a moment. 

“maybe i like being shown off.”

namor marvels at her, struck by how she’s left him speechless. though his lips twitch with the faintest hint of a smile.

they fall into step together, shuri’s movements fluid and more relaxed now, her earlier nerves all but forgotten. when they pass a group of onlookers, her ears flick upward again, but this time, instead of shrinking back, she tilts her chin up, her tail swaying with a subtle confidence.

for a brief moment, namor allows himself to feel a some pride, not just in her, but in how they’re managing this strange, uncharted dynamic.

“we’ll take a longer route next time,” he says, almost to himself.

shuri perks up, her ears twitching. she tilts her head, studying him with a grin. “next time, i get to pick where we go.”

namor raises a brow. “is that so?”

“absolutely,” she says, confident. “i grew up on these streets. i recognize them and i think i’ve earned it.”

”alright then,” he agrees. “next time you pick where we go.”

shuri’s steps in perfect rhythm with him as they continue through the park. for the first time, namor feels a quiet sense of ease settle between them, the tension from earlier melting away as his kitten basks in the attention she’s clearly decided she deserves.

 

 

 

it would seem obvious that things could never really be normal between a hybrid and their master, at least in the circumstances of shuri’s particular relationship with namor. and it isn't.

being in the streets for so long shuri knew what the average man would have done to her. she’d seen the hunger in their eyes, heard the crude remarks when they thought she couldn’t. hybrids like her—the ones without a  collar, an owner, a protector—they didn’t last long out there, not unless they learned how to fight or how to disappear. when namor found her, she was cold and wet from a passing storm, deluded and shivering so violently her teeth chattered. at the time, she had accepted her fate when she felt his arms grasp her. 

what shuri hadn’t anticipated was the gentle nature of namor. she was nearly numb by the time he brought her inside, but the warmth in his tone as he spoke to her, strong and firm grip was such a contrast to the soothing tones he spoke. 

he changed her soaked clothing with careful hands then wrapped her in a blanket and laid her down in a warm bed, the scent of him surrounding her. namor didn’t demand anything from her that night, he simply let her rest.

shuri is aware of how namor feels about her. she sees it in the way he ensures she has everything she needs, in the unspoken care that lingers in his actions. she is aware of the quiet reassurance he never needs to voice. he will never breed her or make her a bedmate. 

and shuri knows this not because he’s said it but because she sees it in the way he avoids her gaze when she curls up near him, the way his hands flex as if he’s holding himself back. there’s a restraint in him that borders on prudent.

for all her teasing and naughtiness, shuri understands it. part of her is relieved, comforted by the certainty that namor would never abuse his power as her master against her. but another part of her that is much smaller and quieter wonders what it would mean if he ever wavered.

but by now shuri knows namor’s boundaries as clearly as she knows her own instincts.

still, that doesn’t stop her from testing him in her own subtle ways. she brushes up against him when he isn’t expecting it, while he’s cleaning or right before he leaves for work. her tail will be trailing against namor’s side as she lingers against him. when they sit on the couch together, the space between them will shrink within seconds. shuri will curl up by his side, half her body draped lazily over his legs.

or, like now: shuri is currently pushing the door open to namor’s room, her footsteps light and deliberate as she makes her way inside. she pauses just long enough to watch the slow, even rise and fall of his naked chest as he sleeps with the blanket pooled around his feet.  

then, without hesitation, she pounces onto the bed.

“good morning, master,” she purrs as she leans down, poking his nose with a single finger. her touch is light but deliberate, bumping against the piercing he has there.

namor groans softly, his hand coming up to rub his face as he cracks one eye open. “shuri…” his voice is rough with sleep, and there’s a note of warning in it, though it lacks any real bite.

there’s no cruelty in her master, no desire to control her beyond what is necessary. but it’s what shuri wants, there’s a hunger in her gaze whenever their eyes meet. she loves being so close to him, her purrs are soft and steady, filling the quiet air.

she leans closer, skin on skin and her nose nearly brushing his. namor sighs, his large hand brushing her forehead as if to gently push her back, but she doesn’t budge. her legs sit on either side of his hips, knees and arms and her bodyweight effectively trapping him beneath her until he answers. behind shuri, she feels her tail sway as namor’s eyes finally open.

she can’t help how her body moves on its own because she’s excited. today namor will be home all day which means it’s another day shuri gets to play with him. 

namor doesn’t seem to mind it. his large hand caresses her back, firm and warm as it slides across her exposed skin. a rumbling builds in shuri’s chest until she’s full on purring. 

the cropped tee she wears allows for his hands to run across her while back and down to the matching waistband of the shorts where her tail pokes out. shuri can feel herself relaxing into namor’s embrace and deciding then to just lay on him. 

i could kiss him like this, shuri thinks to herself wondering if he would kiss her back. there’s a line between them, thin and fraying, one that namor is constantly trying to reinforce and just as often forgetting exists. 

“please don’t make a habit of this,” namor says, his tone dry but not unkind. his expression is soft with the haze of sleep, the lines of his jaw and brow relaxed, his lips parted slightly. 

shuri blinks, realizing how closely she’s leaning over him, her face hovering just inches from his. her purring stutters, and she bites her lip to stop herself from doing something foolish.

it’s hard not to let the thought linger, her eyes close as she turns her face into his neck, scenting him. 

“you’ve been coming here every morning.”

shuri flushes when he says this and huffs into his neck, her ears flicking in irritation as she straightens slightly, though she doesn’t move off him. “aren’t you ready to wake up?” she asks. 

“not at all.” namor murmurs, his hand pauses at the small of her back, then moves up to rest between her shoulder blades. “are you hungry, kitten?”

his eyes open fully now as they meet hers. his lips turn up to faint smirk, and the sight of it sends a flutter of warmth through her chest. she was hungry for him. 

“yes, please,” shuri says. and its sudden - the ache.

it strikes her when she sits up and feels his soft dick nudged against her sex. her tail goes stiff, and namor groans when she shifts against him, rolling off his torso to lie on the sheets. 

“hurry up.” she points to the door.

namor lets out an infectious laugh and shuri smiles as she watches him step out of bed into the hall. “don’t get too comfortable,” he says. 

it’s not so strange, shuri has been invading his pace for well over half a year now and she knows exactly where her master’s boundaries lie. he takes charge when he needs - when it’s necessary. but ultimately he has taken to appeasing shuri’s every request by this point. she’s been good, desperately so, hoping to get closer to him. she’s already earned his forgiveness somehow. but now shuri needs to know how much further she can push him. 

he walks her through town now and shuri is rarely skittish when it comes to strangers, but the day she met bucky and his owner, sam, she couldn’t stop the same familiar ache that ran through her that morning. 

shuri knew the other hybrid had an ache just as sudden and intense as her own because bucky nearly pounced. if bucky were truly a cabine, shuri is sure he would have been salivating. 

so, one morning when she jumps into the bed, cuddling into her master’s chest, her body is draped over him, and namor’s hands running down her back like always, the firm touch of of hands brings a purr out and a steady need to get closer. her ears flatten as realization hits her, slow and heavy. oh.

oh, no.

a heat is rising in her, not just in her face but in her entire body, a slow-burning ache that settles low in her belly.

below her, namor’s eyes narrow. “shuri?”

it takes a shaky breath to calm her nerves, her hands gripping the sheets. “i… i think i’m about to rut,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

namor freezes, his sleep relaxed body has now gone stiff all the way to his face. his expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable, his gaze locking onto hers.

“are you sure?” he asks.

shuri nods, her ears drooping. “i can feel it. it’s… starting.” she hesitates. “i didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

namor exhales, pushes forward until shuri rolls off onto the mattress beside him. “it’s normal,” he says after a moment. “your body’s adjusting to being safe, to having stability. it makes sense that this would happen now.” his gaze softens slightly. “do you want me to help?”

shuri’s eyes snap to his, wide and startled. “help?”

“to prepare,” he clarifies. “i can make sure you’re comfortable, that you have what you need. we’ll get through this.”

the sincerity in his tone sends a pang through shuri’s chest, and for a moment, she doesn’t know whether to feel grateful or frustrated. she looks away, her tail flicking again.

that sudden heat stirs within her again, her sex aching and wet already. shuri rubs her legs together and with what little friction she receives is enough to distract her. she barely notices namor’s voice.

“don’t worry kitten i’ll be back.”

“no.” shuri can’t help the pathetic mewl that escapes her lips. “you’re what i need!”

her hand has reached out to namor, taking hold of his arm before he can leave. the words hang in the air, and shuri bites her lip, her fingers curling and her other hand scratches at namor’s soft sheets. 

“i know why i feel like this.” her voice trembles, but she pushes through. “you’re the only one who makes me feel safe. you’re the only one i trust.”

shuri’s ears stay flat in embarrassment, but she doesn’t look away. her chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, her body still burning with an unfamiliar intensity. the words spilled out of her before she could stop them, but now that they’re out, she doesn’t regret them.

namor’s hand comes to grasp hers, gently, his touch grounding. his dark eyes meet hers, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly still.

he looks torn, his jaw tightening as he wrestles with his thoughts. “this isn’t about trust,” he says finally. “your body is reacting to something primal. it’s instinct, not choice.”

“but you always say you’re here to take care of me. that you’ll help me. well, this is what i need right now.” shuri shifts closer to him, intertwining their fingers. “please, i need you.”

“you don’t understand what you’re asking of me,” namor says quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

then, slowly, his hands rise, cupping shuri’s jaw with a gentleness that makes her breath hitch, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

“i do,” shuri leans into his touch. her tail sways behind her, a soft hum of anticipation building in her chest. “and i want you.”

namor’s eyes go low, his gaze dropping to her lips.

before he can say anything else, she surges forward, her hands gripping his shoulders as she presses her lips to his. the kiss is clumsy and desperate, her eagerness clear, but it’s full of emotion. raw and unfiltered.

for a short but scary moment, namor freezes, his body rigid beneath her touch. then, his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss. his lips are warm and firm against hers, his piercing and beard a stark contrast to the tongue in her mouth. 

there’s a hand sliding up to grasp her neck and another at her waist. her master is strong and shuri doesn’t shy away from testing his strength. her courage is bolstered by the ache pulsating through her body. arching into his as touch heat floods through her like she’s melting, every nerve in her body alight with sensation. 

she clenches, her cunt fluttering around nothing and just waiting to be filled. her hands tremble as they rest against namor’s broad shoulders and the strength of his embrace is a welcome comfort when he brings her impossibly closer, his arms around her and sliding down her back. 

shuri feels her ears perk up and her tail curl, swishing out to brush his leg, and her purr is a steady vibration that matches the racing of her heart.

namor’s hands move with a careful slowness, his fingers brushing against the hem of her cropped tee. he hesitates, his dark eyes searching as if seeking permission. shuri doesn’t look away; instead, she sits up and lifts the fabric. 

namor doesn’t look away either, his eyes never leaving her face as she pulls the shirt over her head and sets it aside. immediately, his fingertips graze the bud of her breast and relishing the soft skin there. his hands go down to the curve of her waist, he holds her there and shuri feels it - her cunt sliding against his hardening dick. she’s already slick and the sudden rhythm her master sets sends a shiver rippling through her. 

namor dips his head, capturing her lips once more, squeezing her breast again and making shuri squeal. 

“let’s take our time,” he murmurs, against her lips, his thumbs sliding over her pebbling nipples. “there’s no need to rush.”

his gaze takes her in slowly, lingering on the curve of her shoulders, the dip of her collarbone, the rise and fall of her exposed breast as she breathes.

then with a hard shove shuri has namor on his back. her body moves on its own, chasing the sudden wave of pleasure coursing through her. it’s a frenzy the way she moves her hips to hump on his clothed dick. the friction isn’t enough and shuri feels more of her slick seeping from her in an embarrassing trickle through her shorts. 

“namor.” his name is an embarrassing whine. “please, just...”

namor’s hands come down to pull his length from his boxers and shuri shifts, her body relaxed as she lies there in anticipation. her master is already so hard and wanting, wanting in the same way she is. 

“is this all you need shuri.” namor’s tone is a breath away from a moan. “fuck you’re so wet.”

a low purr rumbles in shuri’s chest when she feels his head brush her shorts aside and rub at her aching pussy. 

“give it to me-” her breaths come out in a rush against his lips. “please, please.”

namor is a good master, he listens to shuri when she asks for something. shuri shudders down to her bones when he palms her ass, fondling and spreading the flesh apart. he guides his dick into her with one smooth slide that they both moan at. 

“yes, fuck.” shuri tosses her head, her body going taut. it’s a deep stretch. 

“you've been so tight this whole time.” namor gives an appreciative hump into her. “so fucking wet too.”

shuri feels her walls clench onto her master’s hard dick as he fucks her for the first time. namor, she had never seen him, only felt on him when she would spread herself on his lap to be pet. he’s so big, so hard and now he’s filling her soaking pussy. 

when they meet eyes shuri can’t help the pull she feels. namor’s dark stare ignite a fire within her and she kisses him fiercely. 

her hips begin moving to chase that  feeling she desperately craves. she melds into his embrace and humps back into him and it’s amazing, delicious and everything she needs in this moment. 

“right there, yes, yes!” shuri moans, her hips rolling p.   and her tail flicks erratically as she loses herself. 

namor almost looks amazed at how she fucks back into him. eyes roving over her face, holding her closejj and keeping still as she uses him. the bed rocks with the near aggression that shuri has pent inside her small body. she’s been holding back for so long. 

their mouths seal together in another hungry kiss as namor snaps out of his revere. “this is where you need me, kitten?” he asks, the intensity in eyes making her believe this could be something more. 

“keep going, please!” shuri cries. “fuck me!”

she knows she’s tight, her pussy grips onto his length as she rides her master, rides the crest of pleasure she can’t escape. that’s when his feet come up to plant on the bed, knees bending behind her back to slam his long, hard cock into her. 

clinging to him more slick pours from her cunt to match the sounds of their coupling. the squelch is mixing with the moans and their whispered praise for one another.

“you’re so fucking deep.”

“yeah, you like being stretched out like this?”

“yes, it’s so good, don’t stop.”

“i’ll stay right here, shuri, right where you need me.”

he fucks her like she always imagined he would.

relentless, with strong thrust. loud, the bed creaking, his balls smacking her the bottom curve of her ass, his hoarse grunts overwhelming her labored pants. his dirty words. his rampant thrusts. the glide of his roaming large hands and the press of his plump lips to her feverish skin.

it’s all too much and not enough, but it’s what shuri wants and namor will rarely deny her. a hand comes up to her neck and she doesn’t even have to ask, his hand closes around the metal loop and leather. 

her master tugs at her collar and shuri wails, he smacks her ass and she shudders as she cards her fingers through his dark hair when he dips his head to latch onto a sensitive, stiff bud.

she bites her lip hard, she trembles as a new sensation mounts and she sees pin pricks flood her vision.

namor pulls away with a pop, leaving her raw and shuri screams and arches and clenches on him.

 he kisses into the crook of her neck where the collar sits and her hips buck, that heat that had been building in her core suddenly spreads when she comes. like a wave, shuri’s body convulses and slumps over as she twitches through her sudden orgasm. 

it soaks through her shorts and namor boxers, he calls her a ‘good girl’ in a hoarse grunt and he keeps a tight hold on her hips and fills her up to the brim for it.

Notes:

i have been craving some hybrid nashuri and i couldn't help myself!!!!