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mickimomo · 10 months

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Smile At Me For Once - (Attoye)

I finally got the motivation to write Attoye again! I figured I’d do a few warm ups again, by writing out little prompts that have been living rent free in my mind while working on the next chapters of my fics. Enjoy! :)

p.s. this isn’t set in the Sun and the Sky AU. It’s just post-BPWF, after a treaty has been signed.

Since the treaty was signed between Wakanda and Talokan, little workshops were being held between the two nations to give the people opportunities to learn new skills and build friendships.

Okoye had been very eager to sign up for a few artsy and combat workshops. The midnight angel was hopeful to learn some new ways to kick ass but also embrace this foreign culture. Throughout the entire cultural exchange, she had been very openminded about it all until she had crossed paths with Attuma in a sparring workshop where they played a rougher version of hot potato mixed with floor hockey using a weaker water bomb and wooden spears.

Essentially, you had an unknown number of hits to get the ball in a goal.

If it explodes while you’re maneuvering it around, you’re out until your team scores a goal.

It was a fun game that really boosted everyone’s morale but seeing Attuma and Okoye go against each other while their teammates sat on the bench with bated breaths really got everyone invested.

The man had used every chance he had to be near her, trying his hardest to start a conversation as he maneuvered around her. Through mean mugs and stank eyes, Attuma refused to leave her side. Even causing his team to lose a couple of rounds until she made it clear that she only wished to kick his ass.

Attuma understood that as, ‘I will only respect you if you defeat me or lose to me after giving your all.’

Okoye left the workshop sore, wet, and tattered while Attuma watched her retreat with a bruised grin and blood-filled rebreather.

He had managed to win a few rounds, but he played nastier than she ever wished to discuss or think about after today.

It wasn’t even nasty in a dishonorable cheating manner.

He just played without mercy or restraint or any sense of personal space. This resulted in Okoye having to literally fight for her life or peel him off of her.

There were moments where the wind had been knocked out of her and other moments where Attuma had sent her flipping across the field. He’d always be there to break her falls though, unintentionally groping her during inspections that often ended with gentle touches and the occasional Band-Aid.

Okoye never complained out loud though.

If he wanted to be rough, she could be just as rough.

She had been successful enough to knock him down a few times, but it always left her muscles screaming at how much strength it required to send the blue titan into the muddy earth.

Once she claimed the final victory, earning cheers from her team, Okoye left. She could feel Attuma’s gaze on her back, but she refused to turn around.

She was a wounded cat, desperate to lick her wounds in private.

“Um...Okoye...why did Attuma pin you down like that-”

“-Because he is an idiot.”

“Well, you look like you had fun.” Aneka grinned.

“Do I look like I had fun?” Okoye turned to glare at her friend.

“Well, now you don’t.” She pouted.

“I hope I never have another workshop with that man present.”

“Eh? Why?”

Okoye’s eyes burned into the midnight angel, forcing her to lift her hands in surrender.

“I’ll be quiet.”

“Good.”

Aneka remained quiet as they left the muddy field.

Okoye’s wish of not seeing Attuma had been granted by Bast temporarily.

She’d gone to weaving workshops, cooking workshops, and even carving workshops without seeing Attuma.

It was all going well until she went to the painting workshop that was being led by the king of Talokan.

She should have known Attuma had been praying to Chaac to see her when the sky opened and dropped an ocean’s load of rain.

The downpour was relentless as it soaked her clothes and pebbled her skin, scolding her until she moved faster.

Sandaled feet carried her towards the citadel and down a gilded hallway before she entered the workshop room that was at the beginning of a well-lit corridor.

Rain dripped from her eyelashes as her eyes scanned the room, eager to find a seat without disrupting the class.

Attuma was the only one sitting by himself in the back, while the king paced the front of the room, talking about a painting he had created.

Namor seemed fixated on the painting he had done while he talked, so now was the best time to go.

She gritted her teeth and mouthed a slew of curses as she took off her shoes and tip toed to the empty seat next to the warrior.

Dark brown eyes locked onto her as she quietly pulled out the chair and sat down, successfully making her way in without Namor noticing.

Attuma breathed out a single word.

“In ba’ate’el.” (Warrior.)

But this time, it made her skin feel warm as it fell from his covered lips.

It had somehow gone from something he called her out of respect to perhaps a term of endearment. A nickname between foes to something Okoye refused to acknowledge.

Attuma accepted her glare as a warm welcome before sliding her a few pieces of paper.

“I.” He gently touched his chest. “Write.” He pointed at the papers.

She glanced at the papers apprehensively before taking them when she realized they contained details on the culture behind today’s workshop. Little fun facts and important moments of Talokanil history written neatly in English.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed by his act of kindness.

It was clear that whatever his king had written on the board had been duplicated neatly- just for her.

He stared at her, patiently waiting for an ounce of praise.

“Thanks.”

He allowed his lips to curl upward behind his rebreather before he refocused on the speaking king.

Her eyes moved forward too, watching the king pause to put down a piece of paper.

“Alright. Now that we’ve covered the history, let’s jump into today’s craft.” Namor smiled. “Today, you will be working in pairs to create a mural of each other. In Talokan, we keep our culture strong by spilling our history into our art. We tell stories, sing songs, weave tapestries, write music, carve statues, and paint grand murals to record the past. Then, each generation adds to it. This makes our art better and the culture richer.” He lifted up a large painting. “Here is a small example I whipped together for this class. Here we have Chaac leading our priest to the plant that helped our ancestors move to the sea.”

He began to repeat himself, speaking in his mother tongue.

Her ears were able to pick up a handful of words to verify it, but she eventually tuned him out as she took in the large painting.

Namor was talented.

Talented felt like a small word.

An insult almost.

His painting skills were known to be amongst the greatest between both nations, so it made sense that he was leading this workshop. However, seeing his craft in person truly left the group speechless.

The mural was detailed, swirling with various cool tones.

Somber ceruleans, rich viridians, and regal violets.

Sprinkles of sand and clay browns as painted hands reached for a plant that floated down from a watching deity.

Everything was outlined with obsidian and highlighted with white and lighter cool tones.

He pointed at each component of the painting before looking up at everyone. “The story is clear that this is how Talokan came to be.” He put the painting down. “I want you all to work together to make a story about the two of you and paint it. At the end of this workshop, you all will present it to the group.”

He repeated himself once more in Yucatec Mayan before he moved forward to start handing out materials. “If you have any questions for me, please do not hesitate to ask. We have three hours to work on this, so please pour out your creativity and make something beautiful and meaningful with your partner.”

Okoye recoiled at the word ‘partner’ as he began his final translation.

Attuma on the other hand was elated.

His eyes moved to the woman beside him, drinking in her soaked attire.

He was used to seeing her in uniform, but today she was wearing a cropped orange and yellow blouse that tied in the front with a floor length orange and red skirt that moved like lava whenever she walked. She was heavily accessorized with golden bangles, a gold idzila, and a few jade waist beads.

Before he could take in anymore of her beauty, she snapped her red polished fingers in front of his face, sporting a scowl she always wore around him.

He blinked and she sighed before moving forward to place a kimoyo bead in his ear.

The world sounded foreign until she tapped her bracelet and looked up at him curiously.

“Do you understand me?”

He blinked before nodding slowly. “Yes. Can you understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes. Technology.” She offered jokingly before leaning back. “So, we need to tell a story. Let’s make some draft sketches of the mural and then pick the best one.”

“Ok.” He nodded. “Do you want to work separately, or do you want to work together on these drafts?”

“Separately.”

“Ok.”

“Let’s regroup in twenty minutes.” She tapped her kimoyo beads to set a timer.

“Ok.”

He watched her grab a piece of scrap paper and begin to doodle before doing the same.

Every few minutes, he would glance at her, stare at her longingly, get scolded, and refocus on his work.

By the time the twenty minutes was up, he had twenty drafts and she had four.

“I’m surprised you have so many.”

“I’d probably have more if you didn’t yell at me so much.”

“It is difficult to do my task with a creep staring holes into my head.”

“I’m not a creep. I was referencing your features. Your face has to be a part of the mural.”

She gave him a pointed look before she began to lay out her drafts. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

He nodded before laying out his drafts.

He had drawn Okoye twenty times, each one slightly lewder than the first time.

Okoye on the other hand had drawn both of them, taking inspiration from Namor’s style as she drew out different tales from different battles, they’d fought each other in.

There was depth and details and a story.

Everything that was supposed to be there but was missing in Attuma’s work.

He could draw, but nothing he created told a story.

It didn’t capture anything more than the curve of her breasts and ass- amidst the vibrancy of her eyes and fierce scowl she always wore around him.

Very similar to the one she wears now.

“What do you think?” He smiled warmly at her.

“Attuma, you are talented...” She started. “...but you lack the ability to write a story. In fact, you drew me explicitly in every draft.”

“The way I have drawn you is not offensive to my people. Is it offensive to yours?”

“No, but I am more than my tits and ass.”

“Would it look better if I added myself?”

“Why-” She pinched the bridge of her nose to compose herself. “Quality over Quantity. Have you ever heard that phrase before?”

He thought it over. “Not exactly like that...”

“But you understand what I mean, yes?”

“Could you explain?”

“You have nothing more to offer to this idea besides explicit doodles of me. Although the doodles look nice, it’s the same thing... which means you’ve basically given only one idea.” She held up an index finger. “One idea that can’t be used or enjoyed by anyone because there’s no story or lore or creativity behind it.”

“But you are beautiful.”

“Right, but that’s not the theme of this mural. People will get tired of seeing the same thing over and over again. If I showed someone the same doodle twenty times, under the façade that it was something new each time, they’d grow sick of me. Which is why I’m disappointed with your drafts… beyond the obvious explicitness.” She shot him a look as he listened attentively. “We have to be innovative and creative. Just because it has Attuma and Okoye in it, doesn’t mean it’s good. Especially if it’s just the same thing over and over and over again. Whatever we present has to be new and additive to the story we’re trying to tell and something we’re proud of. We have to present this at the end, you know. It should be something of good quality. Something I would want to hang up in my living room and read books under.”

“Then let’s look at your ideas.” He tilted his head. “Maybe I can help draw one of those in a rough draft before we work on the mural.” He offered a small smile. “Whatever we make, I want it to make you happy.”

Okoye nodded as she looked away shyly. “Ok.”

Her four drafts were amazing, each blending the cultures of Wakanda and Talokan to create an ornate mural.

The first one centered around Bast and Chaac blessing her and Attuma in combat as they fought on a bridge.

The second portrayed a midnight angel descending on a warrior adorned with the head of a hammerhead shark, pointing her spear with a vow of sending him off to his ancestors.

The third centered around her kicking Attuma off the sea leopard and into the sea.

The fourth centered around Attuma pointing down at Okoye while she stood underneath an aircraft, holding a child close.

She spent a few minutes explaining each doodle before waiting for Attuma to pick one to work on.

He stared at each doodle with great focus before picking up the third one. “This one.”

She looked at it. “Why?”

“In that moment, we truly became equals.”

“You looked down on me before I kicked you off that ship?”

“No, but the fire in your eyes burned the brightest that day.” He smiled fondly at the doodle. “It makes me wish we had never been enemies.” His smile dropped. “Perhaps you wouldn’t glare at me as much.”

Okoye stared at him as they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“I glare at everyone.” She huffed under her breath, ignoring how his eyes brightened as she looked away.

“I will keep that in mind and not be offended by your angry gaze.”

“Yeah.” She dismissed him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by her attempt at comforting him. “How long do you need to add your own style to it?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Ok.” She set another timer. “I’ll start making paint swatches, so we know what colors we want to use.”

“Ok.”

The pair worked quietly on their parts of the project before regrouping when the timer went off.

Okoye looked the doodle over, while Attuma waited patiently for her feedback.

“This looks good to me.” She looked over the patterns he included to add more dimension to the mural. He even cleaned up the design of her characters, being mindful to not erase the notes of her culture she had woven throughout the design.

There were a few creative differences incorporated, but it was definitely something she wouldn’t mind hanging on her living room wall if everything turned out great in the end.

“Can we start working on the sheet of canvas now?”

“I think so.” Okoye nodded. “You can draw the outline and then I’ll paint it.”

“Do a rough draft of what colors you want to use on the draft I just finished while I work.” He glanced up at her. “I don’t want to be in your way when you’re painting.”

“Ok.”

Attuma took a deep breath as he lifted the roll of canvas and rolled it out on the floor. Azure fingers began to spread out the dense material before he grabbed a piece of charcoal and got to work.

Nimble fingers skillfully mixed different colors of paint on a palette before pressing themselves into the wet paint.

She stamped her finger into the areas to denote where each color would go, occasionally going over colors with something different when it didn’t look how she wanted.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Okoye dried her fingers off on a rag and turned back to face Attuma with curious eyes.

At some point while she was working, he had pulled his hair up into a messy bun, failing to catch every single fly away.

His brows were furrowed in concentration while his hands moved with precision and accuracy across the canvas.

Upon closer inspection, it dawned on her that Attuma wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform.

He had on a long jade skirt that complimented his many piercings and a thick band of cream cloth that wrapped around his waist twice before trailing a line diagonally up and over his shoulder.

He didn’t even have his headdress on.

He instead wore a viridian and a cream feather tucked behind his ear with a few shark teeth charms attached to the handful of braids that had been neatly done throughout his hair.

At a quick glance, he looked like a sculpture of a deity who was heavily invested in something.

He was some sort of sea god or water god.

Enchanting her like a siren, luring a pirate out to his demise.

His gaze lifted to meet hers for a moment before he lifted his brow in curiosity.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“You’re staring.”

“I just wanted to make sure I mixed the right shade of blue for your skin.”

“You can do swatches of paint on my back to test it out if you want.”

“No need.” She turned around, flustered, and ashamed that she had been caught.

Attuma chuckled softly as he refocused on his work.

Once he was done, he got up and leaned over her, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“It’s your turn, warrior.”

“Okoye.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Okoye.”

“My apologies. It is your turn, Okoye.”

She offered a small nod before getting up and retreating to the floor.

“Is this okay?” She held up her rough draft.

“It’s perfect.”

“Ok.”

Attuma sat at the table and watched her begin to paint, being extra careful to be neat with each stroke.

Time moved slowly as Okoye worked.

He watched her every move quietly, being mindful not to gawk or make her uncomfortable.

If he was a water god, then she was a goddess of fire.

Beautiful opposites that could destroy one another if not careful but be steamy if allowed to mix.

Okoye could feel him staring but decided not to acknowledge it.

Once she was done painting, Attuma sat back down to finish outlining and highlighting the mural before they signed the bottom right corner.

The pair stepped back to admire their work, covered in smudges of charcoal and a few flecks of paint.

“We’re done.” Okoye breathed out.

“Mhm.”

“We did it.”

“We did.”

“Alright.” Namor spoke up. “While some of you add the finishing touches to your mural, let’s start presenting so that we can clean up and go.” His eyes scanned the room. “Do I have any volunteers?”

Okoye kept her hand down, but Attuma raised his hand.

Her eyes burned into the warrior as Namor grinned.

“Great! Attuma and Okoye will be our first presenters.” He waved them forward. “Come to the front and discuss the lore of your mural.”

Okoye sighed as she helped Attuma lift their mural and carry it to the front of the room.

Gasps filled the air as everyone took in the painting.

The painting was mostly various hues of blue, teal, and gold.

An unmasked midnight angel, striking Attuma into the waves with fire in her eyes.

Instead of painting a ship or an actual sea leopard, a large black panther was painted fighting with a feathered sea serpent in the sea.

The people of Wakanda were denoted by small purple panther cubs clinging to the panther’s back and the people of Talokan were denoted by small jade serpents trying to move up K’uk’ulkan’s back.

Attuma explained it all in Yucatec Mayan first before Okoye spoke in Xhosa.

He removed the kimoyo bead in his ear to relish in the sound of her explaining things in her own mother tongue.

It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

Her lips stopped moving as her dark brown eyes moved to meet his.

She looked him over as the sound of clapping and soft cheers filled the air.

It all became background noise the moment she smiled at Attuma.

His skin purpled as she parted her lips to say, “Dios bo’otik.” (Thank you.)

“In k’áatech.” (I love you.) He breathed out.

“Huh?”

“Mixba’al.” (You’re welcome.) He spoke up as his blush deepened.

“Ah.” Okoye laughed softly as she looked away.

“That was a brilliant presentation you two! Thank you for volunteering to share first.” Namor beamed at them.

“Thank Attuma.” She jutted a thumb at the General before taking the mural from him. “I just wanted some art for my home.”

Attuma watched her quietly, drinking in all the joy that crossed her face before looking at his king with wide eyes when he snapped his fingers.

He arched a brow before realizing he was gawking at Okoye again.

Namor only shook his head as Attuma retreated and chuckled. “Alright, who’s next?”

The End

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theattoyearchive · 7 months

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The Attoye Archive Entries (003)

The Queen's Ward

(Link)

By Siancore on AO3 (@siancore )

Part 1 of The Alliance Kingdoms series

Featured in Attoye-Week 2023, 1st Kiss Prompt

Rated Mature

This fic is a part of a series, but it is only one chapter long. It's 6,764 words long, and I plan on reading the next few parts to see how Attuma and Okoye's relationship blooms. There are many moments where I can't help but smile or chuckle because of how cute or funny a moment is. I won't spoil what parts, but Siancore did a phenomenal job with this fic!

It all starts with Attuma and Okoye meeting for the first time at a young age. Attuma is the prince of Talokan, and Okoye is the Wakandan Queen's Ward. They're amidst other children who are either young royals or children of powerful diplomats who are all having fun in a courtyard. They're playing their own version of tag, and Attuma catches her, resulting in Okoye falling in a puddle of mud. In retaliation, she throws mud at him, and he laughs. This sparks the start of a beautiful friendship that lasts through distance and time.

After crossing paths a few more times and overcoming their differences in politics, they get to see each other slowly grow up little by little before they're torn apart once more.

This time, they meet again as young adults. Okoye has blossomed into a refined, intelligent beauty who enjoys a good competition and Attuma-? Well, Attuma is smart and strong, and he's really got a stream of ladies eager to marry him. To their dismay, Attuma only has eyes for a certain someone. A certain someone who only sees him as a friend.

Attuma's gaze is like lava dripping down the side of a volcano as they stand in a room with other diplomats. Once they approach, his eyes feel less intense. Something reminiscent of the morning sun. Warm and gentle.

They exchange a stream of banter that can only be described as flirty and playful. Revealing a beautiful rivalry of sorts in which they dare to see who will outdo the other during the Great Games. Unfortunately, Okoye finds out she won't be competing. And to top it all off, there are rumors of Wakanda giving vibranium away to someone else- resulting in Talokan demanding a marriage to reaffirm their alliance. There is no better candidate than Talokan's prince, Attuma, and the Queen's Ward.

Will Okoye agree to this proposal?

You'll have to read to find out!

#theattoyearchive #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #okoye #attuma #attuma of talokan #black panther wakanda forever #attuma x okoye recommendations #attuma x okoye fanfiction #attuma x okoye fanfic #okoye x attuma nation #okoye x attuma fanfic #okoye x attuma fanfiction #attoye week participant #attoye week #attoye week 2023 #attoye week day 1

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pilesofpillows · 1 year

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Primetime || Okoye x Attuma Oneshot

Read it here on AO3

Summary: Attuma's been in Talokan taking care of business and Okoye misses him. Only one thing to do... at least Mexico has some nice beaches.

Warnings: Smut (18+), NSFW, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Vaginal Sex, Overstimulation, Squirting, Slight Breeding Kink, PWP

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, so if you hate it 🤷🏾‍♀️ Anyways... I hope you like it!!

Word Count: 3.5k

The ocean was calm tonight.

Quiet and tranquil, with gentle waves lapping at her toes, inviting her into the depths.

She kicked off her sandals, picked up the hem of her dress, and waded further into the surf. She stopped when the water kissed her knees, dropping her dress into the tide.

“Attuma.” Okoye’s voice was a whisper, but she knew he heard her. He always did.

She waded further out until the water was mid-thigh. He was close; she could feel it.

“Attuma,” she called again, voice still soft.

Not even a full minute passed before strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her body back against his broad chest. “In yakunaj.”

Okoye smiled into the night sky, sinking into his embrace. “Sithandwa sam.”

“You are far from home, in K’iino’.” Attuma’s voice was a rumble that moved through her like thunder. She ran her hands along his wet forearms, feeling his corded muscles ripple under her touch.

She hummed and turned in his arms, staring into his dark eyes. He wasn’t wearing his armor, just his shark helm and rebreathers. She caressed his chest, running open palms over the familiar ridges of his scars, and locked her arms behind his head. Okoye pushed up on her toes, so they were face to face, trusting him to hold her up.

“My home is with you, is it not?” she asked, staring into his dark eyes. The love she saw in them brought a peace she’d lacked in the weeks he’d been gone. “Perhaps my need for you outweighed my patience,” she smirked, shrugging.

Attuma stroked his hands across her bare back, swooping low to rest on her ass. He chuckled low in his throat. “I have been remiss in my duties. My wife should never have need of me.”

Her smirk widened into a full smile, and her heart threatened to burst from her chest at the title. His wife. There was a righteousness in that. Something pure that soothed her soul.

“And what will you do to rectify your errors?” she asked playfully, massaging the base of his skull.

“Nothing less than what my duty requires,” he answered gruffly, squeezing her behind none-too-gently.

“My husband is nothing if not dutiful,” she said, huffing a laugh as he scooped under her thighs and wrapped her strong, toned legs around his waist.

Attuma turned and walked them back toward the shore, settling on a soft grassy knoll away from the sand. The airship she’d commandeered was parked further into the tree line. The moon was their only light, but it was more than enough.

Okoye sat astride him, tracing random patterns over his shoulders and neck. Her fingers glided over his rebreather, removing it gently after a nod from her husband. Their eyes never left each other as she placed the mask carefully on the ground. His headdress was the next to go, landing softly on the grass next to them. Okoye ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. Attuma’s hands roamed over her body, rubbing wide circles from her thighs, up her hips and waist, around her back, and up to her nearly-bare shoulders before repeating the pattern over and over again.

They were close, closer than they’d been in nearly a month. Their chests rose and fell in tandem as they breathed each other in. Okoye brought one of her hands from his hair to trace the shape of his face, studying the features already ingrained in her memory. The deep ridge of his brow, the bump in his nose, his full lips. He was a beautiful man.

He was her beautiful man.

Okoye inhaled sharply when he nipped at one of her fingers with pointed teeth. He kissed the finger in apology and pressed another kiss into her palm. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. Their lips met in a whisper, lightly caressing each other before it grew in intensity. His tongue delved into her mouth, reclaiming that which was already his. He held her tightly, pressing their bodies together until there wasn’t an inch of space between them. Okoye broke their kiss, chest heaving against his as she tried to catch her breath.

“Did you come all this way to sit on my lap, K’iino’?” Attuma taunted, a breathless whisper across her lips.

“Would you mind if I did?” she whispered back, nudging his nose with her own.

“No.” His answer was immediate. “I cherish every moment we are together. Without you, my world is dark, devoid of even the stars. When we are apart, I long for you as the desert longs for rain.” He began pressing small kisses to her lips as he spoke. “Your brilliance captivates me. Your beauty entices me. Your passion ignites mine.” Attuma rained kisses down her neck, his grip tightening on her hips as she began to roll them into his.

Okoye buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he decorated her neck with love bites.

“You were made for me, crafted by the gods and molded by the stars. Just as I was made for you. Our souls are bound in this world and every other. There will never come a day that I don’t hunger for you. You are mine, Okoye. And I am yours.”

She moaned his name into the night sky as he sucked a mark on the column of her throat. Her grip on his obsidian waves tightened as she dragged his head away from her neck.

They stared at each other for a moment, breath mingling in the electrified air. Their next kiss was hard. Tongues and teeth meeting in a fervor that conveyed exactly how desperate she’d been without him. His honeyed words only fanned the flames of her desire. He yanked the thin straps of her dress down, and she wiggled out of the top half so the dress pooled at her waist, exposing her breasts to the open air.

Attuma wasted no time. He cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over her pebbled nipples. Pinching and pulling them until she gasped a curse into his mouth. Her back arched, pushing her chest further into his hands. He pulled back from her lips and stared at his wife. She whined as their lips parted, and he wrapped a firm hand around her neck, preventing her from giving chase. Her eyes were glazed over, unfocused as she ground her hips into him.

He kissed her swollen lips softly, whispering, “Hush, in yakunaj. I have you.”

Okoye ground down again, moaning at the feel of his arousal through their clothes. She threw her head back, and Attuma ducked his head to her breasts, taking a sensitive peak into his mouth and squeezing her throat with his hand.

Then suction.

Sweet, sweet suction.

Okoye was sure she would come undone right here. She felt like she was on fire, and Attuma’s mouth stoked the flames of her passion. She writhed in her husband’s lap as he lavished her breasts with attention. He let go of her throat and palmed the cheeks of her ass, grinding his erection into her core. He nibbled on one stiff nub, forced a cry from her, and she shuddered.

She needed more. “Attuma, please!”

He chuckled, low and dark. “Taj muk'óolal [Patience], K’iino’.”

“I- ah! I have no capacity for patience,” Okoye hissed, fisting her hand in his hair and scoring her nails into the skin of his shoulder. She undulated atop him, grinding to attain the pleasure he denied her. “I have been without you entirely too long for patience.”

Her husband bit the underside of her breast sharply in warning, bruising her hips in his grip as he flipped her onto her back. He loomed over her, arms caging her body as he stared down at her with dark eyes. Smoldering kisses stole her breath as he ground his manhood into her core. Then he was moving down her body, pressing kisses and bites to random bits of flesh.

Okoye’s nails dug into his shoulders as he sucked a harsh bite into the top of her thigh.

“Fuck.” She would return to Wakanda covered in evidence of his love.

Attuma licked and sucked at the bite, soothing it with his tongue. “In time, jats'uts. Allow me to worship you first.”

Okoye could only nod in response as he bunched the wet skirt of her dress up and kneeled between her thighs. She reached up and pulled him into a wanton kiss.

“Líik'il [Lift],” he commanded, breaking their kiss and tugging at her dress.

She lifted her hips, and he pulled the dress free, tossing it to the side. He groaned at the sight of her blue lace thong, soaked with her own arousal. He leaned down, peppering kisses from her knee to her inner thigh, nuzzling the top of her slit through her panties before descending back down the other leg.

She opened her mouth to beg or curse him but could only choke out a strangled moan as he covered her mound with his mouth, sucking her in.

“Always so sweet, in yakunaj,” Attuma murmured, licking his lips.

He lapped at her again, swirling the wet lace around her clit. She keened at the sensation, hips bucking into her husband’s mouth. Her hands found their way back to his hair, twisting her fingers in the damp waves. Attuma pulled away, dragging her thong with him. He cast it off to the side, uncaring of where it landed.

He pushed her thighs apart, forcing her to spread herself before him and grinning at the sight. Attuma ran the pads of his fingers up and down her slit, pressing lightly on her clit. Okoye writhed beneath him, begging sweetly in her mother tongue for more. He didn’t answer, merely pinned her down to devour her sex with focused intensity.

Attuma drank in her pleasure, greedily moaning at the taste of her. He wanted only the sweetness of her filling his mouth. He pulled her throbbing clit into his mouth, sucking with abandon. His wife mewled and writhed beneath him. He pressed her apart further and increased the pressure on her sweet pearl, fluttering his tongue across the bundle of nerves.

Okoye sobbed. Her nimble fingers tangled in his hair as he drove her to the cusp of her release.

“Myeni [Husband],” she begged, breathless, “nceda! [please!]”

Pulling away from her clit, he ran his tongue up her glistening slit, swirling it around her pearl. Sucking it back into his mouth, Attuma grazed it with his teeth. Okoye cried out, a strangled, stuttered shout of his name, and flooded his mouth with her release. He continued his ministrations, hoisting her legs over his shoulders and pressing one, then two fingers into her clenching heat.

In and out, Attuma worked his wife through her first release before curling his fingers just so, sending her spiraling into another. Her thighs clenched around his head, and she wailed her pleasure to the stars. He removed his mouth from her but didn’t stop the punishing pace of his fingers.

Attuma surged upward, claiming Okoye’s lips in a bruising kiss. She whimpered into his mouth, tasting the remnants of her essence on his tongue. Her mind was blank, drifting in a blissful state.

“My precious wife, so wet for me,” he murmured against her lips. “I can feel you tightening around my fingers, in yakunaj. Are you going to come for me again, diosa?”

Okoye let out a needy moan and shuddered, burying her face in his neck. Her hands grasped at him wildly, clutching his shoulders and back while her hips rose to meet his every thrust. All she could feel was him. The strength of his hips between her legs, the raised texture of his scars along his chest and shoulders, the rough rhythm of his fingers driving her to the edge of euphoria.

“Ko'oten wo'osal [Come for me], Okoye,” Attuma commanded.

Black spots danced at the edge of her vision as her third climax slammed into her. She keened, her body convulsing on the grass. Her nails scored his back, and Attuma hummed, pleased at the flood of her arousal that dripped down his wrist, pooling on the ground below them.

He slowed his fingers gradually, easing her down, murmuring sweet words in Mayan, pressing sweeter kisses to her lips.

She whined as he pulled his fingers from her body. “A-Attuma.”

“K’iino’.” He peppered kisses across her face, allowing her to catch her breath.

Attuma sat back and removed his loincloth, groaning as his wife wrapped a firm hand around his length. She stroked him languidly, pulling him toward her aching center. He hissed as Okoye dragged the tip of his member through her wetness.

“Yatan,” he growled, squeezing her thighs, “ts'aa in polla ichil. [Put my cock in you]”

“Taj muk'óolal, wíicham,” she teased, throwing his words back in his face. But she had no more inclination to wait than he did.

Okoye’s breath hitched as Attuma’s cock nudged her clit. She was more than ready to take him, to feel the burning stretch of him as he split her open. Tilting her hips up, she placed the weeping head of his cock at her entrance and locked her legs behind his back. Her arms wound around his neck, and Attuma groaned as he sank into Okoye’s velvet heat.

He filled her slowly, invading every sense until she could feel nothing but him. Attuma gazed down at the other half of his soul in adoration. Her skin glistened under the pale light of the moon, shining like the earth after Chaac’s blessing. Breathy sighs of pleasure left her lips, a symphony meant only for his ears. Okoye’s eyes fluttered shut as their hips met, overwhelmed with sensation.

“Open your eyes, in yakunaj.”

Okoye blinked dazedly, her eyes unfocused.

Attuma rocked into her, delighting in her sharp gasp.

“Open, Okoye.”

She opened her eyes, meeting his heated gaze. Her pupils were blown wide, a thin ring of brown around endless black.

He thrust again, watching as her brows furrowed and her mouth fell open.

“Have you missed this, in K’iino’?”

He could feel the quiver of her thighs as she tightened around him. Attuma began a shallow rhythm, working his cock inside of her.

“Have you missed the way your husband’s cock fills you?”

His only answer was a moan as he sped up his thrusts. Attuma unwound Okoye’s arms from his neck, kissing her palms before pinning her wrists above her head. He held them there with one hand, bringing the other to toy with her nipples. His strokes never stopped, withdrawing almost entirely before plunging back in, unrelenting.

“Have you missed the way I fuck you, in yakunaj?”

Attuma’s hips snapped into hers harshly, punching the breath out of her lungs. Her eyes slammed shut, and she threw her head back, baring the dark expanse of her throat to him. He drove into her with hard, punishing strokes, filling her completely every time. He released her wrists and took hold of her throat.

“No answers for me, hm? Has my wife lost her ability to speak?”

Okoye rode the cusp of delirium, her body feverish. He shifted one of her legs to his shoulder, delving impossibly deeper, and her pleasure rocketed to new heights.

“Ah! At-Attuma!” She cried his name to the gods, hips bucking as she chased her next release. Her nails scorched trails of fire down his forearms.

“There you are.” His grin was feral, white teeth glimmering in the dark night. “Cum for me, K’iino’.”

Attuma fucked Okoye through her orgasm, relishing in the sweet feel of her clenching around him. He didn’t give her the chance to come down from her high. Swift and agile like his wayob, Attuma flipped his wife onto her front, pulling her to her knees.

He plunged back into her, giving no quarter.

Okoye sobbed, overwhelmed at the feeling of Attuma taking her. He was relentless and thorough, and she knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d had his fill. Or she collapsed from exhaustion.

She felt him jogging his hips searchingly, seeking that secret place inside her. Realizing what he intended, Okoye scrambled for purchase on the soft grass, pathetically attempting to pull away. She reached back in vain, hoping to stop Attuma’s efforts, but he swatted her hand away and tightened his grip on her hips.

“At- tuma! Ple- ase! Bast, I can’t!” Okoye panted, breathless from the force of his strokes.

“You can,” he asserted, still pistoning in and out of her, unfazed by her efforts, “You will. And once you do, I will fill you with my seed until it drips from your body.”

Okoye could only moan as her back arched further, burying her face in her arms. Her mind was clouded, lost in the haze of ecstasy. Unconsciously, she bore down, rocking back into Attuma, fucking herself on his thick cock.

“Lelo' tuláakal, jats'uts. Ch’aik a ki' janal [That’s it, beautiful. Take your pleasure],” he praised her, delivering a sharp slap to her ass.

With a rough snap of his hips, Okoye keened, a bolt of white-hot pleasure racing up her spine as he found what he’d been searching for. She gasped a curse and tried to jerk away, but Attuma maintained his iron grip on her.

He thrust his cock into her with deadly precision, establishing a brutal rhythm. Every stroke forced a cry from her lips as he fucked her with ruthless purpose. The debauched sound of skin meeting skin and Okoye’s ardent cries created a cacophony that drowned out the gentle sounds of the ocean.

Attuma’s hand reached between her legs and began rubbing her clit in hard, fast circles. Okoye shrieked and felt every muscle in her body tensing as he propelled her to the edge. He thrust once, twice, and pinched her clit.

An electrifying shock of blinding pleasure sliced through her, and Okoye screamed.

She thrashed, muscles spasming violently as the dam broke and a gush of wetness poured from her.

Attuma grunted, his thrusts faltering at the feel of her sex clenching around him. He came with a low, guttural groan, spilling into her, filling her with warmth.

Okoye’s body went limp beneath him, her muscles still spasming. He eased his cock from her, soothing her as she whimpered weakly. He grabbed his rebreather and laid down beside her. Attuma hauled Okoye on top of him and began massaging her undoubtedly sore muscles. He hummed a soft tune of relaxation, hoping to soothe her aches.

Okoye nuzzled into Attuma’s chest, feeling sated and exhausted. She lay on top of him, smiling, warm, and content in his embrace, relaxed by the soft tune he hummed.

“Have I fulfilled my duties to your satisfaction, in k’iino’?” he asked softly.

Okoye chuckled, hiding her face in his chest. “I’d certainly say so.”

“Good,” he said, and Okoye could hear the smugness in his voice. “I strive to be the best.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “The best, hm?”

“Yes,” he answered simply, running his large hands across her back. “It’s nothing less than what you deserve.”

Okoye froze, tears pricking her eyes. Just when she thought she couldn’t love this stupid shark man anymore, he had to go and say something stupidly sentimental that made her heart soar. She blinked rapidly, fighting the urge to cry.

“Attuma,” she breathed softly. “You don’t have-”

“I do,” he said firmly. “You are Okoye, daughter of Kioni, General of the Armies of Wakanda, the Most Fearsome Warrior on the surface world. You are the sun that brightens the sky and the other half of my soul. My perfect match in every way. There are not words for all that you deserve, but I will endeavor until my dying breath to be all that you need.”

Okoye cursed softly as the tears she fought fell without her permission. Her husband’s love was overwhelming in the best way. It filled all the holes in her armor and shielded her vulnerable pieces. The world was ruthless, and life could be cruel, but here, in Attuma of Talokan’s arm, there was safety and solace. Here, there was comfort and peace.

Her overly-sweet husband took off his rebreather, nuzzled her cheek, and kissed away her tears. “Don’t cry, in K’iino’.”

“I can’t help it, you stupid shark. You and your ulwimi olunobusi.”

“My tongue is only honeyed because I’ve drunk from the sweetest source in this world.”

“Yeka!” she cried, covering his mouth with her hand, laughing as he kissed her palm.

He laughed with her, and she cupped his face as they sobered. Okoye stared into her husband’s eyes, stroking his cheek.

“You are more than I could’ve thought to pray for and more than I ever dared to dream of. I am honored to be your wife and honored to have you as my husband.” She kissed him lovingly and sighed, laying back down on his chest.

“You’re going to be an amazing father.”

Attuma hummed, savoring her words and the feel of her lips on his. Then her words hit him.

“K’iino’?”

#attuma x okoye #attoye #okoye x attuma fanfiction #okoye #attuma #okoye x attuma nation #fanfic #okoye x attuma #marvel #mcu #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #pilesofpillows #danai gurira #alex livinalli

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giodoodless · 1 year

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alright but somebody gotta write me some attuma x okoye fics, they are the perfect enemies to lovers, they are extremely hot and great fighters, they actually beat each other in battle WHERE ARE THE ATTUMA X OKOYE FICS I NEED THEM ASAP!!!!

#please fic writers i beg y'all #WHERE'S THE ATTUMA NATION OKOYE NATION WHERE????#my bisexual ass will not rest til i get my fics i've only found one which is SUPER hot but still :'((#wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #attuma #attuma of talokan #okoye #general okoye #okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye

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cyb3rscoups · 1 year

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HYWI? (18+)

Other song prompts

A man fresh from a three week long mission in South America was something that filled all of Okoye’s conscious thoughts.

So the day she got word he’d be back the following night, she went into a mission of her own; make Attuma never want to leave her on her own ever again.

“Baby…I’m home!” Attuma shouted into the eerily quiet household with his duffel on his shoulder. “Okoye!”

“Bedroom!” She shouted back from her position on the bed as she adjusted the blue lace adorning her figure.

His heavy steps carried him to the shared space to find his wife-to-be, kneeled into the mattress and her face beaming with pride when his jaw dropped.

“By Chaac what did I do to deserve this beauty?” His limp hands dropped his bag by the door as his mouth salivated at the sight.

“I missed you, daddy.” Okoye found herself craving to lurch forward and jump his bones without another word.

“Missed me?” Attuma smiled as her squirming and shivering as her eyes never left his body. He dared step closer to her feral being and graze her cheek with the lightest touch. “Eyes are up here, Ko.”

He tapped her chin until her teary eyes came to meet his. “You crying?” She nodded bringing her hands to grip the fabric of his shirt and press her head to his abdomen.

“Missed you.” She mumbled into him and his hand brush across her head, shushing her mewling and whining.

“I’m here darling. I’m right here. I missed you too. So much.” Attuma wrapped his arms around her torso, lifting her body up to meet his.

They fit like perfect puzzle pieces, molding into each other as if her other half had never left. His soft kisses to her forehead and her stray tears into his neck.

She could stay like this for hours and just enjoy feeling his body on hers, but again, she had a mission.

Before she got too lost in his sweet caress, she brought herself out of her haze placing light pecks to the skin of his neck, sucking on his softer spots and eliciting a moan from his lips.

“Shit…” He chuckled as his hands traveled down to cup her supple ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging the skin. “You put this on for me?”

Okoye hummed into his neck as her hands went to cup his jaw. “Just for you.”

Attuma hissed as his fingers swept over her cunt and the dampened fabric stuck to her lips. “All this for me, huh?” He pressed onto her clit through the panties, making her jerk up with a squeal.

“Yeah..oh daddy..It’s been so long.” She wiggled her hips to get more friction on her aching pussy as his other hand came to grip her jaw up.

“Too long..gimme kisses, Ko.”

She didn’t need another second before covering his lips with hers. Her arms draped over his shoulders as he rubbed her soaking cunt.

Her mouth agape as she moaned and he took opportunity to slip his tongue in.

Okoye thrusted her hips against his fingers as her first orgasm approached fast, her head falling back as her begging became more apparent. “Ooh! Daddy…I need it..let me cum please!” She whimpered as the coil in her stomach tightened as it got ready to snap.

“I got you princess. Cum on daddy’s fingers…” Her cunt clenched as her orgasm washed over her and soaked the thin fabric of her panties further. “Mhmm..” Attuma smiled. “That’s it. Let it go. I’m here, sweetheart.”

Her body shivered as her legs gave out and she slumped against him as he chuckled. “Tired already? Thought I taught you better than that?”

“Care to teach me again?”

“Love to.” He set her to lay on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly. “I won’t start slow.”

“Oh please don’t…I need it all. Every inch of you and as fast and hard as you can.” Okoye started to strip from her lingerie, tossing every skimpy piece his way with a giggle.

“Don’t test me Okoye.” he pulled off his belt and shoved his pants and boxers off. "Don't forget I got three weeks of pent up tension ready to go."

He tried to warn her but with his thick cock laying up against his stomach, all Okoye could think about was taking the girth down her throat til her eyes burned with tears and his load coated her mouth.

"How do you want me then?" She squeezed at her breasts as she noted the glimmer in his eyes at the thought of full control over her.

"Hmm." Attuma pretended to think for half a second before that seductive smirk made its way across his lips. "I think I wanna put that pretty mouth of yours to work."

Okoye beamed as she got down to her knees, bracing her hands against his strong thighs. He chuckled at her eagerness as she stuck her tongue flat against his tip and licked up the pre-cum seeping from the slit.

"Love this dick so much..." She allowed a trail of spit to fall from her mouth and cover the length, rubbing it around with her hand.

"Now how are you talking with your mouth full, Okoye?" Attuma groaned as a hand gripped the back of her neck and led it down his shaft until her nose nuzzled into his pelvis.

Her wet gagging and sloppy swallow was all he needed to throw his head back in pleasure. "That's better.." He groaned out, thrusting his hips up and making her choke. She attempted to force her head back at the intrusion but his hand was firm as he kept her right where he wanted.

"You know what to do if you can't take it.." Three taps against his thigh would free her simply but instead she squeezed her hands around his flesh and moaned at his base. "Good girl.." He cooed before thrusting into her mouth again.

"Got such a good mouth, princess. You gonna let daddy use it?"

If she could nod as frantically as she wanted to, lord knows she would've, but in such a position she just moaned around his cock and attempted to swallow him down more. Another praise was mumbled from his lips as he braced his other hand at the top of her head and started to jerk his hips up into her throat.

"Ooh love it when you let me do this...Fuuuck! Daddy's gonna cum down that pretty throat...make you swallow it all." He groaned as her nose started to run and her eyes started to burn but he had yet to feel her urgent code, only her nails digging into his thighs as his balls tapped her chin with every thrust.

His orgasm came to him in sudden waves, the first going straight down her throat just as he promised. Once his grip freed her head, she stroked until he came again with a loud moan.

"Shit Okoye.. Missed this shit bad. Real bad."

"Never want you to leave again." She licked the cum from her lips, savoring the salty taste and pushing him to lay on the bed.

"I never will." His fingers kneaded at her hips as she mounted him, settling her soaking cunt on top of his sensitive girth. She angled them down a bit, meeting the perfect angle to get some pressure on her clit. "Nuh uh. Not so fast. Wanna see that ass bounce first."

He twirled his finger and with a groan, Okoye fixed her position to face away from him. He sighed in bliss as he tapped his throbbing member to the thick cheeks of her ass.

"Please daddy..fuck me!"

"Yeah I'll fuck you. Been waiting for me so patiently all this time. Been a good girl while I was gone?" Attuma coated his tip in her juices before starting to push into her.

"I-Yes! Been so fucking good waiting for you." Okoye wiggled her hips down his length until it disappeared inside.

"That's right. Take it princess. Take that dick just how you like it.." His hands spread her ass cheeks against as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. His groans becoming loud with every recoil of her ass against his pelvis.

Her grip on his ankles only grew tighter as he reached that sensitive part inside her walls. "Love taking that dick..ooohh Attuma!" Okoye lunged forward as he reached his fingers around and rubbed a rhythm into her clit.

"Fuuck daddy! Gonna cum!" Her thighs grew stiff as her pussy pulsed around his length

"Let that shit go..Come on." He grunted as she let another wave crash over her and leave her in a stoic state. "Get up, Okoye. Let me see your face."

He braced his weight up on his elbow as he reached to grip her throat, letting her head lull and lay on his shoulder. Already she seemed fucked out and sleepy, but he was hardly finished, removing himself from her cunt and flipping them so she lay peaceful on her back.

Attuma folded her legs up to her head before sinking back into her sopping mess with a low growl. "Swear you do it for me. every. fucking. time." Every word punctuated with a jolting thrust that made her mewl and stretched her hands out to touch him. "You own me baby.. you don't even understand. Love you so fucking much."

Okoye smiled at the tremble in his voice and the stutter in his hips. Her mission was almost complete. Now she just needed to convince him to nut inside and fuck her full of a baby if he pleased.

"Love you too daddy..gonna get married."

"Yeah.." His eyes screwed shut as his mouth fell agape.

"Fuck all the time.."

"Ohh fuck yeah.."

"I want a baby, daddy. I want your baby."

"I'll give you a baby, princess. Whatever you fucking wa- shit shit shit..Okoye!"

Mission accomplished.

@xblackreader @pilesofpillows

#Spotify #attuma #alex livinalli #attoye #attuma x okoye #wakanda forever #attoye fanfic #black panther #okoye x attuma #danai gurira #mcu okoye #attuma smut #attoye nation #attoye smut #smut

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thegirloffans · 1 year

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I'm hopping on the bandwagon!!

This fandom has been going hard these past few days and I just wanted to throw something out there as well! I'm not going to lie, this was so rushed and I felt like I was writing in circles but hopefully you guys like it!!

Enjoy! 🩷💫

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intothemultifandom · 1 year

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– 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 [𝟏/𝟑] || 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐚

SUMMARY: In the aftermath of The Blip, you and Attuma–warriors turned interim leaders–bond over loss, grief and the weight of two different worlds. When the second blip occurs, those who’ve returned decide to wage war. Unaware of the relationship you’ve forged in their absence. PAIRINGS: Attuma x Reader, Wakandan!Reader, T’challa + Shuri Sister!Reader TAGS/WARNINGS: angst ; hurt and comfort

You lost your siblings during The Blip.

T’challa had turned to dust right before Okoye, Shuri scattered somewhere out on the battlefield; and a weight unlike any other (the weight only your brother knew) settled around shoulders when the wind did not claim you, too.

At only seventeen, you had been reduced to an only child by the snap of a Madman’s fingers. Expected to ascend the throne now that your older siblings could not. Not that you would, given your distaste of politics and the UN Embassy in general.

Where T’challa was King and Shuri led your scientific division, you had trained under the tutelage of the Dora Milage. Had become one of the best warriors of the country in spite of your youth, expected to surpass Okoye once you reached her age.

Your natural skill had fuelled your desire to join the War Dogs before N’Jadaka had come into the picture (as Princess, you could not join the Dora Milaje officially), a dream you had to contribute to the safety of your Kingdom and your brother’s reign under the aloofness of being the youngest child.

In the eyes of the world that remained, however, this was not possible when your existence, your survival, received constant praise by Nations who hungered for someone young and naive to ascend the throne.

To their displeasure, you’d assumed leadership over the secret division of your country instead, entertained by the thought of Colonisers dictating what you did with yourself. Your amusement further peaked as you presented yourself publicly as Wakanda’s Consulate General alongside your natural title as Princess.

With your Mother maintaining the throne and dealing with politics, you’d spent the first three years working diligently to forget your siblings’ absence. Your own grief and shame.

Someone had to stamp out the political unrest in your country, had to re-establish Wakanda’s spy-network in the midst of mounting political tension around the world.

And you had done it all at from seventeen to twenty, held together by the love of your Queen Mother and spurred on by the council of your closest confidants, Okoye, Aneka, Ayo and, surprisingly, the Jabari’s own M’Baku.

The success of your network around the world had earned you the respect of many, though nothing cemented your legacy more than what happened during the Wakandan three-day-Massacre:

The Marube Tribe were a relic of time, isolated from the rest of your country when they denounced the advancement of your technology.

Deep in the Mute Lands, they’d practiced old customs and studied even older texts where, in the shadow of Thanos’ terror, they’d turn to ancient techniques to make their warriors strong. Stronger than even the Black Panther.

Since they could not ingest Vibranium through the heart-shaped herb, a group of their men had etched it into their flesh. Tattooed the raw substance into the planes of their body so they could flow better with nature.

And for a brief time, it worked. The process had given them unnatural durability and strength, the ability to run faster than the wind and yet capable of moving the Earth with a stomp of their foot.

Only, Vibranium itself is radioactive unless tempered with a substance only Shuri and her division knew how to make.

And with your sister and her team gone, ashes in the wind; the Marube tribe, without knowing the consequences, inadvertently kickstarted what might’ve been the doom of your people with the creation of the Madmen.

As Vibranium had become one with flesh, the radiation did not blister skin nor melt flesh from bone. Instead, it drove the person to madness, to a murderous rage that would not end and was made even worse by the indestructibility of their bodies.

In a single night, the Madmen decimated nearly their entire village before they took to their neighbours.

When the missive came the following morning, your Queen Mother demanded only for the Dora Milaje to go, for them put an end to the madness before it reached the Golden City.

What she seemed to forget was that the last Madman you fought murdered your siblings, so you could not, would not, simply remain in the Palace.

And so as stealthily as you could for someone who’d learned many tricks from Nakia, you followed your warrior-sisters beyond the throne room, grateful that Okoye turned a blind eye when she caught you amongst their numbers.

The battle against the Madmen had been a ruthless and bloody affair.

The people who fought with you and against you were your own people; the land you fought on once roamed by your Ancestors; yet no amount of familiarity could diminish the brutality of war as the Madmen slaughtered your people in masses, pushed your team deeper into the battlefield and towards the centre of their ruined Tribe like wolves surrounding sheep.

Just as you thought you had reached your end, had stood back-to-back with Okoye, Aneka and Ayo and readied yourself for death, Bast had smiled on you that day as the survivors of the massacre–women and children who’d hidden themselves beneath the ground–opened a hidden hatch and welcomed your group into their refuge.

The Marube people may have denounced modern Wakanda; but they were Wakandan all the same.

For almost half an hour, you and the warriors huddled with them in the dark of their underground cave system where you’d grieved and planned, prayed for your Ancestors to see you through another day even when the Madmen waited for you above.

It had been one of the Elders who survived, a woman named J’Kobe who weakly presented the idea of someone undergoing the same process as the men above to turn the tides of the battle. She who suggested bestowing a great power upon someone, anyone, so that they could end the Madmen’s bloodshed once and for all before madness took them.

It would be a sacrifice, went unsaid.

As the determination settled on Okoye’s brow and Ayo and Aneka shared a sad, resigned smile (they’d realised too that the Madmen could not be beat as their weapons bent under the pressure of their strength)–you had stepped towards J’Kobe with the memory of your family and your people, the smile of a toddler who bared your brother’s name, as you knelt at her feet and offered yourself before they could.

Your siblings had been gone for three years, and in those three years you’d found no dignified way of joining them until then: ...though of course, you didn’t actually die as you thought you would.

Even now, you could not remember what had happened down in those tunnels, how long your friends had argued against your decision before you laid on your back and then your stomach, the pain immeasurable as they and J’Kobe embedded the Vibranium along different areas of your body.

Tattooed by your countries most fearsome warriors and one of the last practitioners of old, you did what many thought was impossible when you ascended the tunnels with fresh tattoos that glowed purple and a newfound strength to greet the Madmen as an equal match.

On the third day of the three-day-Massacre, you gave your people a new protector as you stood over the Madmen who lay at your feet, defeated:

Olumo, J’Kobe called you.

Molded by God.

After the battle had been won, and you’d marched with your Warriors and the survivors home to prepare to be put down, to apologise to your Mother one last time before calling Nakia; like the wind that did not claim you when your siblings disappeared, death did not take you in the end, too.

Because your Father, his Father and so on, ingested Vibranium through the heart-shaped herb, they’d altered their genetics and granted their children and lineage invulnerability to the radiation of Vibranium.

Meaning you would not be lost to madness from the procedure after all, a stroke of luck for your friends who considered sacrificing themselves.

Since then, you’d fought many battles as Olumo, the disciple of Ptah and Kokou. Had succeeded in many minor and major battles that helped you carve your own legacy as you fought for True Wakanda, your Vibranium tattoos a symbol of your service and devotion.

There were days, of course, when the power you’d been bestowed stirred uncomfortably. Days where you felt restless in your own skin, plagued with the undeniable urge to move, run and fight.

You’d always been a warrior than a leader.

The Dora Milage, adored as they were, were supportive in this regard; always ready to give you an outlet to rid yourself of this feeling as you fought and sparred them in the safety of your Kingdom.

Even M’Baku and his warriors, through a rare sight in the Capital, sparred with you when they could.

It wasn’t until you met him, though, that you felt more alive than you’d felt in the past three years. Felt seen and understood in a way that your friends and Mother could not and would likely ever understand, given the power and responsibilities you now held.

His name was Attuma, and he called himself the greatest warrior in the underworld.

NOTES:

• This is Part 1 (context; your POV) of a three-part-story.

• Part 2 (snippets of you and him during moments in-between; his POV) will be coming soon.

• Your background is inspired by the BLACK PANTHER #7 (Origins of Vibranium) + BLACK PANTHER #3 (#200 Legacy)

• Ptah the Shaper is considered the god of metal alloys, mainly Vibranium whereas Kokou is considered the Wakandan god of War

TAGLIST:

@tommymcartney ; thanks for inspiring me to keep writing! 📝

#attuma #attuma x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #black panther wakanda forever #black panther: wakanda forever #wakanda forever #wakanda #dora milaje #talokan #namor #shuri #mcu imagine #black panther imagine #attuma imagine #intothemultifandom

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yoditopascal · 1 year

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Béet

Attuma x black chubby reader smut

summary: With the alliance between Talokan and Wakanda in full swing, training and tactical drills have become a common occurrence. You were one of Shuri’s best and brightest scientists, so why were you stuck on med bay duty and why was the Talokanil Shark General coming in so often? content warnings: canon-typical violence, smut, p in v, attuma himself is a warning, cussing, begging, no real plot just literal attuma brainrot, you need a big boy, thigh riding, fingering, no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, reader is afab, attuma being an ass, namora okoye and shuri make a cameo

The first time she saw him she was late.

Having missed her first few alarms she was late to work again for the 5th time in a row. Late nights of researching and assisting Shuri with recreating more of the heart shaped herb had finally caught up to her. The dinging of the elevator signaling that she had reached her floor had snapped her out of her thoughts and just as she stepped out onto the lab floor she had to stop herself from damn near walking straight into a huge blue mass. There on the lab floor stood Attuma, one of the generals from Talokan, the nation they had just formed a new alliance with. She had seen him in passing before, mainly when he and the other general Namor came down to run drills with Ayo and Okoye, but never this up close and personal.

God, he was kinda fine.

“Tu'ux le le general?”

He asked, his baritone voice rumbled from his chest as he gave her a once over. The scientist before him was a little thing coming up just under his shoulders but like him was by no means skinny.

She then remembered they didn’t speak the same language as everyone else did, she couldn’t understand him but the word general made it a little easier to figure out what he was there for, he probably had training again.

“Oh you looking for Ayo?”

“Máax ka'ansaje' táan u cargo bejla'e' mina'an ba'ax in k'áaj” his voice came out a little raspier as he stalked closer if that was even possible, and looked down at her from under his lashes.

“Yeeeeah I don’t- I’ll just get Shuri for you” she started cheeks heating up as she felt boxed in. The man was intimidated and he definitely knew it. “I believe Attuma is asking for the General,” an overhead voice interrupted them, “Namora is already on the 14th-floor training with Ayo and Okoye. I’ve taken the liberty of letting them know he’s here.” The young scientist had never been more thankful for the A.I.’s presence.

“Thanks GRIOT.”

“It is my pleasure” Just as she was about to turn her attention back towards Attuma the dinging of the elevator caught her attention as she watched Okoye and Namora enter the lab, both women nodding to her as they entered.

“Llegas chúunk'iin u Attuma” Namora scolded as she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at the man under her breathing mask.

Waving her off he walked past her into the elevator she just came from but not without giving the scientist one last once over.

That was the start of her week on med bay duty. Once she had finally gotten all clocked in and settled at her work station Shuri had stopped her before she could get too invested in what she had on her desk.

“I’m beginning to worry about you sister, it’s not like you to be late”

“I’m fine Princess-“

Shuri called her name giving her a stern look as she closed the scientist’s laptop forcing her to focus on her.

“I’m just tired is all” she said with a sigh rubbing her forehead trying to ease the beginnings of a headache she felt coming on.

“Maybe you should take a break”

“I can’t afford to take a break, besides you need all the help you can get with this Princess we’re so close to bringing it all back for good.” She pleaded and as Shuri shook her head at her.

“And we will bring it back but not with you at half capacity”

“Shuri-“

“I’m putting you on medical duty. The warriors have been getting roughed up more than usual lately because of the Talokanil soldiers and they could use your help.”

“Are you grounding me?”

“If I have to” “You’re taking a break one way or another.” Shuri chuckled as she pat her on her shoulder and sent her on her way right back out the door she came from.

Shuri wasn’t lying when she said the warriors were getting hurt a lot more than normal lately. Normally the Dora Milaje never had a reason to stop by the medical center on the other side of the building, they could take any and everything that was thrown at them but she suspected that ever since the two generals started sparring with them that it was a little bit more than they could handle, especially from Attuma the man was big damn near the size of M’Baku and she liked that about him.

With her back to the door, the young scientist typed away on her laptop, finishing up her notes from the other night, she didn’t hear the door to the office open until it slammed shut behind the intruder. Startled she jumped in her seat and turned to see Attuma standing furiously as blood seeped from his arm.

“Jesus you scared the shit outta me!”

He didn’t say anything as he stalked over towards her, his dark eyes glaring down at her clearly telling her he didn’t want to be there.

“What happened?” She questioned putting in a pair of gloves and getting out the cotton swabs and cleaning solutions, the cut wasn’t too bad, it was superficial at best, but with him coming and going from the ocean she didn’t want to risk it getting any kind of infection.

Not waiting for him to answer not that she thought he would she gathered her supplies and got to work patching him up.

“You don’t talk very much do you?”

Again he said nothing.

With a sigh, she wrapped up his arm in a waterproof bandage and sent him on his way.

That was just the start of their little meet-ups. Every few days for the last few weeks Attumaor some of his men would come in with a new injury on either his face, his arms or his torso, each one just as bad as the last, courtesy of either Namora or Okoye and each time he visited was just as awkward as the last.

“So what’s the weather like in Talokan?”

“Are you guys only blue on the surface or do you stay blue underwater?”

“Yo, you have gils?! How do they work? “Are they sensitive? Is this kinda like a The Deep kinda situation?”

She tried desperately to make conversation each time she saw the man but each time he just glared at her and went on his way.

By the 5th visit she had resorted to just straight up being an ass to him, she could tell it irritated him but that was usually the only way she could get any kind of conversation out of him.

“Bet Okoye did that to you huh?” She questioned pressing an antibiotic-soaked cotton ball to the cut on his cheek

“She told me she kicked your ass the last time.”

Oh fuck he probably doesn’t understand me she thought as she tried to make conversation. Now that she thought about it she doesn’t know why but she never considered whether he could actually understand her or not, that was probably why he never really answered her.

“Leti' desearía yantalto'on in pateado le!” He growled back with a hiss startling her as the cotton ball in her had pressed to his cut a little harder than she meant, GRIOT translated for her.

“Oh, so he speaks!” She chuckled more to herself. “And you can understand me” She stood going to throw away her gloves, judging by how he had come back without so much as a scratch from his last visit she figured he’d heal by the end of the night and wouldn’t need any bandaging “You just like being stubborn.”

Again he said nothing as he stared her down but this time not with a glare but with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“We’ll congratulations you’ll live,” she said with a smirk. Once more Attuma looked her up and down, his expression unreadable before he turned on his heel and left.

The third time he came in it was different.

When he stormed into the med bay like he normally did she noticed almost immediately his wound was a lot more serious this time as blood was pouring from the cut on his neck pooling under his bone gorget. The young scientist jumped from her seat rushing to get her equipment stumbling as she moved about.

“What happened?!”

There was no time for their normal banter as she tried to figure out how to get him to remove his collar. Reaching out to touch the shark teeth that adorn it she’s stopped in her tracks as he aggressively grabs her wrist, tightly holding it in place.

“I need to treat your wound Attuma,” she reasoned snatching her arm back “it looks bad.”

“Yéetel utsil” he huffed as GRIOT translated going to push past her to grab the bandages “Chéen envuélvelo yéetel túuxta'al in tin beel, ma' táan u humor teechi'”

“Look I know you’re used to throwin’ your weight around and getting what you want but I’m not about that shit ok?” She snapped back pushing him back so that he was leaning against the exam table. She knew he had let her but she liked to think she pushed him purely with her own strength. “You’re gonna sit here and let me clean you up.”

“Táak a in tin wu'uyaj meentik in” he snapped going to brush past her but as he reached for the door he felt her grab his forearm and stopped, turning to look back at her.

“Béet” she pleaded.

“Ba'ax” What? GRIOT translated

“ B-béet that’s how you say please right? I know you know what I’m saying so please just listen for once.”

“Multa.” he sighs through his nose going back to the examination table but sitting himself in her chair in front of it instead, if he was going to let her do this he definitely was going to give her an easy time.

“Are you going to tell me how this happened?” beginning to clean his wound out with a swab she thought she’d make small talk but Atuuma obviously had no intentions, examining his neck further she realized he was just another scrap like he always had but the blood pooling out of it had scared her, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

“We going back to the silent treatment again?” again he did nothing but stare as she worked on him from between his legs leaning over him continued to clean the now-closing injury.

With a sigh, she began to pull away when a hand on her arm stopped her "Ba'axten jach dispuesto a wáantiken?" GRIOT translated for him. His grip was firm but still somewhat soft. “It's my job to help you,” she said pulling away and looking into his eyes, there was that same unreadable look in them again. With a slight roll of the eyes. He released his grip. "Yaan ba'ax ma' táan a wa'alik ti' teen." His voice lowered with a bit of annoyance as the A>I> continued to translate for the pair. ”Like I said I know you're Mr. Big and Bad down on the battlefield but you don’t gotta be tough shit here, let somebody take care of you for once.” she said putting a hand to his cheek. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked into her eyes. His annoyance left as his hand moved onto hers.

Attuma’s eyes briefly flickered up to her lips before going back up meeting her dark eyes again pupils blown wide. He reached up to brush her cheeks with his fingers, thumb tracing over her bottom lip before he leans his masked lips down to hers, trying to kiss her through the material heavy and needy, the force almost knocking her onto her back as she began to kiss him back.

Giving her chest a gentle squeeze his hand slid downward palming at her chest through her shirt drawing out a low moan as his other hand gripped at her thighs and hips practically dragging her into his lap as he worked her pants off.

“Beetej.” he breathed her in as he began to rock her clothed cunt against his knee soaking it in the process.

She moves her hips even quicker, rocking on his thigh, the inside of her own thighs soaked. “Fuck.” She moans, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to hold him impossibly closer. Eyes closed she could practically feel Attuma staring up at her, his hands roaming her back and chest before coming to rest on her stuttering hips.

Gripping her hips hard he takes over, making her ride his thigh, basking in the soft sounds he was pulling from her. He can feel her cunt clenching against him through her underwear, can feel the wetness pooling on his bare thigh, and he fucking loved it.

“Beetej,” he groaned throwing his head back “Je'el u páajtal a take'”

Slowly, he presses his knee up higher as she grinds down on him adding even more friction. Her eyes fall close and her mouth drops open in a breathy moan as she tries to grip his broad shoulders, hands too small to fully encompass them. She’s unable to kiss him on his lips due to his mask but she still leans forward to press her forehead to his as he continued to work her open.

“Attuma.” She hissed, grasping at his hands as he increased his speed.

“B-bèet…”

“A'al ka'a.” he panted not relenting in his pace as he dragged her down even harder.

“Bèet- fuck please just don’t stop!” Hips bucking wildly she came with a hoarse cry, shaking and riding him as he still rocked her over his thigh.

“Please…” she continued to beg, beginning to feel the twinges of overstimulation. “Please…”

With a loud growl, he ripped her from his thigh and turned her around pressing her chest to the cold steel table below them. The temperature a sharp contrast to her hot skin, as she feels him begins to undress them both.

“Táak in wu'uyikech,” his dark gaze trailed down her back as he tugged her underwear down and tossed them to the side along with her top and bra. His fingers grazed over her clit softly before sinking in curling and scissor around in her spongey walls while his thumb worked at her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Having already been on the end it didn’t take long for her to come again around his finger. Looking back at him as she spasmed on the table she saw hi cock looking painfully hard and dark as it strained against his lower abdomen, leaking at the tip, and looking bigger than she’d imagined

“Jach jodidamente mojado,”Attuma’s voice was rough as he watched her come unraveled beneath him, her arms struggling to hold herself up at she twitched around him uncontrollably on the table.

“A'al ti' teen wa Yaaj in” he said slowly easing his cock into her as he pulled her up and turned her to be on top of him as he set himself back down into her desk chair almost not fitting as he spread his legs.

She cursed, burying her face in the crook of his neck again, her hands roaming his chest and shark tooth scarring on his tummy. She mouthed at his neck kissing at his gils under his apparatus as he began to thrust up into her, already setting a rough pace. They both moaned in unison as she started to bounce, her legs trembling as he split her open on his lap.

“Attuma fuck!”

“Teech jach jodidamente ki'ichpam,”he sighed, Attuma’s voice was hushed as he watched her reaching her peak and tried to kiss her softly through his mask.She felt his hips begin to stutter and began to plead once more.

“Please, I need to feel you”

A strangled sound left Attuma’s mouth, as he roughly slammed up into her hard one final time the loud squelching music to his ears as she continued to bounce softly in his lap while the steady rhythm of his thrusts began to dissolve into a desperate frenzy, moaning huskily as he filled her with his thick hot cum.

As they both came down from their highs she stayed in his lap gently rocking until she came to a full stop. Cum immediately started to seep from between them but before she could stand up to clean up, not that she thought she could at that moment, a blue hand came into her line of vision and pulled her face to his as he kissed her lazily for a moment before pulling away.

It’s then that she noticed that in the heat of it all, he ripped his mask away, drenching them both in seawater and sweat.

“Bèet ìfè mi, again,” she said her voice barely above a whisper as he leaned down to kiss her once more lifting her up to set her back on the examination table.

Translations: Tu'ux le le general? -Where is the general? Máax ka'ansaje' táan u cargo bejla'e' mina'an ba'ax in k'áaj -Whoever’s in charge now I don’t care Llegas chúunk'iin u Attuma -You’re late Attuma Leti' desearía yantalto'on in pateado le! -She wishes she kicked my ass! Yéetel utsil -It’ll be fine Chéen envuélvelo yéetel túuxta'al in tin beel, ma' táan u humor teechi' -Just wrap it and send me on my way I’m in no mood for you Táak a in tin wu'uyaj meentik in -you want me to listen than make me Béet -Please Ba'ax -What? Multa -Fine Ba'axten jach dispuesto a wáantiken -Why are you so willing to help me? Yaan ba'ax ma' táan a wa'alik ti' teen -there's something you're not telling me Beetej -Keep going Je'el u páajtal a take' -you can take it A'al ka'a. -Say it again Táak in wu'uyikech -I want to hear you Jach jodidamente mojado -So fucking wet A'al ti' teen wa Yaaj in -Tell me if it hurts Teech jach jodidamente ki'ichpam -You’re so fucking beautiful ìfè mi -my love (in Yoruba)

@lunamoonbby

#attuma smut #attuma imagine #attuma x reader #mcu attuma #attuma x black reader #black panther #marvel cinematic universe #alex livinalli

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dasphinxone · 1 year

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Preview of Chapter 5 of As Above, So Below

AKA, Attuma doesn't take kindly to people and the Tribal Council talking shit about his warrior...even if she doesn't realize she's his yet 👀

This happens directly after the last chapter. Namor, Attuma and Namora are granted an audience in the Wakandan throne room with Queen Ramonda and the Tribal Council to see if they can come to an agreement on an alliance. Okoye flanks Shuri with Aneka and they are both Midnight Angels.

“If it settles the fish man’s wrath, a single marriage is but a small price to pay,” the Mining Tribe council member shrugged and rolled her eyes.

Shuri ignored her mother’s look of warning as the Mining Tribe representative dismissively waved her away and continued with a smirk, “Who are we to deny a disgraced general a chance to reinforce her loyalty to the crown that she so recently lost? This alliance would also prove that she is no traitor, like that ex husband of hers.”

“You would sell out one of our citizens, our general, to an invader?” M’Baku retorted with disbelief.

The Mining Tribe representative shot him a grin like a cat that ate the canary. “She volunteered. Just as the Princess allegedly did when she abandoned us to go to this one’s underwater kingdom,” she disdainfully pointed at the Talokanil.

“I most certainly did not abandon zidenge ezingenamsebenzi [you useless idiots],” Shuri grit out.

Attuma’s eyes widened at mention of a husband from the translation AI. The warrior was already mated? His heart sank, though his mind found no reason for this information to be a falsehood.

Why wouldn’t her talents and exquisite beauty find her actively mated? Who would turn down an opportunity to bind themselves for life to one of such great consequence? Surely, she had to beat off the most prestigious suitors with that spear of hers he still had clipped to his belt.

Shuri’s disgusted look as she hauled herself to feet caused the Mining Tribe representative to snap her mouth closed.

“Have you finished in your slander of my general?” The Princess growled, “Or perhaps you’d like to continue to waste everyone’s time with your fetid half-truths? We grow tired of it and more important discussions are at hand,” she gestured towards the Talokanil.

Ramonda’s snort of agreement quickly followed her daughter’s words.

At least the representative had the shame to cast her eyes downward before she declared, “I only speak the truth. W’Kabi was a traitor. She was married to him, eh?”

Attuma didn’t turn his body enough to attract attention. It still allowed him to take in how the warrior stood as still as stone. She stared straight ahead and beyond him, hand clutched around her new, golden spear.

Taking a few deep inhales through his rebreather, Attuma closed his eyes to concentrate on the individualized thrum of her heartbeat. Frowning at its increasingly frenzied rhythm, his gut twisted with infuriated gall at how the councilwoman spoke of the warrior’s evident past so publicly. The only good thing the old hag did was confirm that this rotten W’Kabi character’s marriage to the warrior lay at an end and in the past.

As the AI translated, Shuri suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress a cackled laugh while the Mining Tribe representative stiffly sat up. An ugly sneer flew to her face before she immediately fell silent at Ramonda’s raised hand.

“Is what le peek'o' nojoch máaktal [the old dog] says true?” Namor asked, brows arched in alleged innocence.

“Somewhat,” the Queen snapped. “She was married. Her husband betrayed his king. She nearly killed him for doing so. We do not blame others for their family’s faults. Each individual exists as a result of actions they undertake by their own hands within my kingdom."

Namor mockingly bowed his head. "That seems to be first thing we may agree upon when it comes ruling."

"However,” Ramonda's voice rose, “She was recently stripped of her command of our elite royal bodyguard for her failure in protecting my daughter from you. So I fail to see why you are so hungry to have one of so little consequence seal this historic alliance,” she shrugged with a tone as innocuous as though they were all discussing the weather.

Attuma’s heart roared at this offense so easily doled out to the warrior.

The time for remaining silent passed as he pounded the bottom of his scythe into the ground. Everyone startled and turned to take in how his shoulders heaved as he marched forward to stand next to his king.

“You offend my battle prowess by insulting my betrothed,” the Talokanil general growled.

“She is not your fiancé!” Shuri exclaimed as she threw her hands up in exasperation.

"She crossed paths with the mighty Attuma, Slayer of Sharks, Protector of the Cursed Trenches," he rumbled without pause, completely ignoring the Princess. "I have proven many times over the greatest wielder of my blade this side of multiple generations. Nevertheless, she lived. Whole and healthy to tell the tale of how she fought me with the blessed spear, the weapon of both our ancestors."

Okoye's hard stare caused Aneka to turn her head towards her in astonishment.

"I suggest you,” Attuma pointed his scythe in Ramonda’s direction, “Guard how you affix your words within your mouth when you speak of your distinguished in ba'ate'el [warrior], your grace.”

The room fell so utterly silent, one could hear a pin drop. Not even the Dora Milaje standing guard on their platform above pounded their spears to warn of speaking out of turn.

Namor arched a curious brow before a grin flashed across his features. Okoye’s head whipped around to take him in. Her face awash in confusion, her mouth hung open in bewilderment.

M’Baku slowly sat up straighter in his seat before he took a crunchy chomp of his cucumber. Everyone’s eyes darted to him in flabbergasted astonishment as he finally slapped his thigh.

“Clearly,” he shrugged, “The shark man speaks in poems of what may only be called truth.”

“What the fuck?!” Aneka’s words rang in Okoye’s comms in her suit. Okoye couldn’t’ be bothered to hide how she rolled her eyes.

Ramonda’s mouth curled with derision. “Are you serious, Jabari?”

“As serious as he so obviously is,” M’Baku waved his snack in Attuma’s direction.

None of them could see Attuma’s grin behind his rebreather. Perhaps the furry man would grow to the best of the potential allies among the rest in this room who claimed wisdom. Especially those conniving eels of the apparent Tribal Council.

TO BE CONTINUED...

In a few weeks, as work is kicking my ass right now. So I wanted to give y'all a little appetizer.

#okoye x attuma nation #okoye x attuma fanfic #okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #general okoye #okoye #attuma #attuma of talokan #as above so below #wakanda forever fanfic #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forever #danai gurira #alex livinalli

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mickimomo · 10 months

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Attoye-Week Snippets (Part 1)

So, I decided that since I’m participating in Attoye-Week, I’d drop a snippet of the first chapter of each entry I intend on dropping for each theme as I work on them. Hopefully it’ll either get you motivated to participate or interact with the peeps who make something for this Attoye-centered creation event.

For whatever reason, Day 6: Fairytale had my brain ready to type out every thing. So, this is the first snippet you’ll get outta me. The final draft will definitely have more added to it, so keep an eye out for when Day 6 comes around for @attoye-week!

Siren Tears and Fairy Wings (Fairytale AU)

Torrential rain dropped from the heavens as a group of men chased after a flickering ball of light.

They ran through the dark forest filled with a few bioluminescent plants and fungi that glowed eerie shades of pink, violet, and teal as they pursued their target.

“FAIRY! FAIRY!”

“Where is it?!?”

“It’s just up ahead! Go! Go! Go!”

The men spilled into a small clearing and began to search around, hitting bushes with sticks and prodding leaves with blades.

“Damn it, Cap’n! We lost em’. I just saw the lil sprite dive intah one of these bushes!” One man grunted. “It’s so hard tah see in this storm!”

“Keep looking!”

The man nodded as he tried to blink away the rain and continued his search.

“Come out lil fairy!” Another crew mate sang softly as he abused a few bushes with a slew of violent swings. “We haven’t got all night!”

Another man moved closer to the captain as the rain poured down harder, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the forest line that circled them.

Just like the others, his white-puffed-sleeve shirt was soaked to the point that it clung to his skin, while his dark brown pants whispered threats of chafing his thighs with every step he made.

“Captain Namor, it’s getting harder to see and we’re not familiar with the terrain or wildlife of this island. If we don’t stop, someone may get hurt-”

The older pirate glanced back at his quartermaster. “Do you know how much money we’ll get with that fairy, Attuma?”

“Lots.” He bit the inside of his cheek at his captain’s incredulous look.

“Not just lots, Attuma. Enough to stop going out to sea! Enough for us to all settle down and live comfortably with our friends and families until our souls depart.” He narrowed his eyes as his eyelashes became curved ledges to raindrops. “Two fairy wings are worth so much. Too much for me to be pouting over someone slipping and busting their ass in the rain or getting nibbled on by a feral critter.” He held up two fingers and wiggled them. “Do you know why?”

“Because they can extend one’s life.”

“Because they can extend one’s life.” He nodded with a grin before tapping his two fingers against the taller man’s chest with each word. “We just need one little fairy and we’re back on the ship and on our way home.”

“I understand, but this weather could cost us a few men.”

“They all want this fairy just as badly as I do. We’ve already injured the little bug, so it’s an easy job.”

“Right, but-“

“-If you want to minimize casualties, I suggest you help us look, so we aren’t out here much longer.”

Attuma’s lips parted slightly before he nodded apprehensively. “Aye, aye captain.”

With a curt nod, Namor walked away leaving the soaked man in a corner of the woods as shouts of possibly spotting a fairy stirred the others up on the other side of the clearing.

This was all futile.

It was only a matter of time before someone got injured and he was forced to patch them up.

Namor was a great captain, but his dreams and ambitions made him reckless and uncaring of the sacrifices it took to achieve them.

Always reminding everyone about how their voyages and discoveries benefited the greater good.

Never caring about the sacrifices, it took to benefit the greater good.

He loosened the collar of his shirt around his neck before he began to look around for any signs of the fairy.

“OI! I THINK I FOUND IT! THIS WAY! THIS WAY!”

Shouts rivaled the thunder as the men rushed onward, leaving Attuma behind as he quietly searched the clearing.

Part of him wanted to call out to them to slow down, but it would only go in one ear and out the other.

There was no point in chasing after them and trying to convince them to give up either.

For now, he could only make sure he was safe and well enough to help in the event of an emergency.

From where he currently stood, he could find his way back to the ship without any issues.

Those idiots would probably get lost and need him to come find them or lead the way back to the ship.

It was only a matter of time.

He shook his head at the thought before examining a small patch of mushrooms beneath a bush that had been smacked and rattled by one of his crew mates.

He carefully lowered his head to find a pair of shaking legs by the base of one of the mushrooms and sighed softly.

He turned around to make sure he was alone before reaching out to carefully scoop up the hidden fairy.

“LET ME GO!” The fairy screamed before tossing a handful of mushroom spores at his face.

“Hey- shhhhhh.” He hushed her frantically before falling into a fit of coughs. “What is that?” He frowned as the rain slowly cleared his senses.

“Something that should have killed you, but surprisingly didn’t.” She scowled as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Hey. I’m trying to help. My name is-”

“I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE! LET ME GO!”

“Shhh!”

“NO!”

“Will you be quiet before you summon my shipmates?” He hissed. “I’m trying to help.”

She let out a scream of frustration after slamming her tiny fists into his hands until she was temporarily burned out, her fairy magic dimming until she was lightless as she panted.

“Hey, will you just calm down and listen to me?”

“Calm down?! Calm down in the hands of a fairy hunter?!” She squirmed in his hold and tried her best to claw at his wet hands with her tiny fingers as the rain poured down on them.

“I’m trying to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t help me, and I don’t need or want your help.” She glared up at him as rain slipped down her bald head. “You’re with those monsters.” She slapped his hand. “You are a monster.” She curled her hand into a fist before rapidly opening her hand, as if to shoo him off with a sharp flick of her fingers.

“So, what if I am? I want to leave. It is not safe here.” He frowned. “I don’t care if we capture a fairy or not.”

“LIAR!”

He huffed as he carefully lifted her and rose to his full height. “I don’t intend to argue with you all night in this awful weather. I need to get you somewhere safe and go find my shipmates before someone gets sick or injured.”

“You don’t have to get me anywhere. Just let me go!” She smacked at his fingers before landing a bite with her sharp teeth.

He let out a shout of pain and his hand opened. “Fuck-” His eyes widened as he watched the fairy drop to the ground with a wet thud, sparkling dimly as she sat in the mud and tried to flap her broken wings.

“Stupid human.” She spat as she stared up at him. “You were crushing my wings to worsen my injuries. You did that so I couldn’t get away, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do it intentionally.” He frowned as he looked at his bleeding finger before taking note of the sparkling blood that coated his palm and fingers. “You’re bleeding.” He whispered as the rain slowly washed it from his warm tan skin.

“It’s your fault.” She scooted back a little as her body shivered in the cold rain. “All you humans ever do is take and destroy.” She narrowed her eyes. “You do not know how to coexist peacefully or let things be. You’re always trying to conquer things that are deemed weaker and murder what you do not understand.” She looked around the forest as an inkling of grief shined in her eyes. “You all will be the death of my home. A terrible illness.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

The pirate slowly crouched to look at her properly.

Her skin was a sparkling dark brown that was lined with dimly glowing white and black markings.

Upon further inspection, they were various symbols that he couldn’t comprehend but he knew they meant a great deal to her.

She wore a tattered red dress that sparkled with her blood and was damn near a permanent burgundy brown from all the mud and rain.

Her wings were transparent, but extremely iridescent, looking as if they were paper thin slivers of detailed glass.

Every twitch they made in the light the lightning provided as it danced across the stormy late afternoon sky revealed a bright rainbow.

He leaned in to inspect the damage that had been done to them, only freezing when his close proximity earned a nasty hiss and baring of sharp teeth. The sound and gesture explicitly promised to do more damage with her razor-sharp teeth if he touched her again.

“I won’t touch you again unless absolutely necessary.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Let’s just talk.”

“I do not want to talk. I want you to go away.”

He sighed. “Look, I’m sure every single human on the face of this planet has a flaw that will prove you right for hating us.” He stared at her solemnly. “I am sorry for hurting you and for assisting with hunting you down. A lot is depending on your wings right now.” He held her fiery gaze. “However, right now, I just want to get my men and my captain back to our ship without any casualties.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “They are like family to me. I don’t want anyone to suffer.” He pointed a finger at her. “But… if I could get you somewhere safe and sound, far away… I could tell them to give up on their pursuit because I know they’ll never find you.” His gaze softened like melting chocolate as he stared at her. “You’ll never see us again if I can get them back to our ship. I just need you to trust me.”

The fairy stared at the pirate long and hard before screams and shouts of panic filled the air in the distance as a loud beastly roar filled the air.

Attuma looked back with wide eyes before looking down at the fairy.

A wave of curiosity graced her features before shifting into a soft smile.

“W-What was that?” He whispered.

“All of you will be punished for coming here.” She looked up at him. “You will all die here.”

“And you’ll die too.”

“I’ll be just fine.” She scoffed. “I belong here. You do not.”

The screams grew louder as they drew near and Attuma reached down carefully. “I have to hide you.”

“No.”

“If my shipmates see you, they will kill you. You can’t escape in your condition.”

“I’ll just hide here.”

“This place is not safe.” He frowned as the shouts came closer to where they were.

“I am not afraid of death. The death of a fairy will curse a hundred men.” She spat.

He shook his head before carefully picking her up. “You can curse some other humans, but not my men.” He scolded her softly. “They have friends and families to return to.”

“Do not touch me!” She struggled to smack away his hand. “Put me down! All of you deserve to die! I’ll be fine-” she snarled before falling silent as he pressed a finger to her lips. His body grew tense as the trees rattled and the bushes began to shake.

He slowly backed himself into the forest before hiding amongst the bushes they had searched earlier, keeping his dark brown eyes locked in the clearing before them.

The fairy froze and looked out into the clearing with curious dark brown eyes.

A ferocious roar challenged the thundering sky as Attuma watched a large monster’s silhouette get highlighted by a strike of lightning.

A slew of bloodied and battered pirates came tumbling and stumbling out of the woods into the clearing, following their mighty captain in hopes of escaping the pursuing monster.

Attuma gently placed the fairy in his shirt. “Hold on.” He whispered before getting up to run parallel to the fleeing men.

A/N: Alrighty! I’ll drop the rest when Day 6 gets here. Check out @attoye-week for the deets on when that is and all the other info if you wish to participate.

I hope to see you then and stay tuned for other snippets! <3

p.s. And yes, I’m working on updating Storm and Exchange. I am slowly and steadily making my way back to the Attoye cookout.

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theattoyearchive · 7 months

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The Attoye Archive Entries (002)

A Night For Bad Dreams

(Link)

By jbarneswilson on AO3 (@jbarneswilson )

Rated General Audiences

If you want to read something short and sweet, this fic is perfect! It's a hurt and comfort fic that's about 720 words.

It begins late at night, when Okoye is torn from her sleep by a troubling dream.

The night is still, and all seems well until she realizes that her bed is empty.

And when she goes to check on her children, one of the beds is empty.

The gears are turning, and she's moving forward with urgency to find everyone that is missing.

There's no movement in the house.

No distant whispers or midnight snacks being eaten.

Where are they?

You'll have to read to find out!

#theattoyearchive #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #okoye #attuma #attuma of talokan #mcu attuma #black panther wakanda forever #attuma x okoye fanfiction #attuma x okoye recommendations #attuma x okoye fanfic #okoye x attuma fanfic #okoye x attuma nation #okoye x attuma fanfiction #ao3 review #ao3 fanfic

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pilesofpillows · 1 year

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Imma repost this everyday cuz it lives in my brain RENT FREE

@karimk2 it’s all your fault 😂

#no seriously #I cannot help myself #I watch this like 20 times a day #attoye is my current hyperfixation #I’m addicted #it’s bad #don’t send help tho #attoye #okoye x attuma nation

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siancore · 1 year

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BREATHLESS AND BATHED IN SOFT LIGHT

E |1.8k | AO3

Pairing: Okoye x Attuma

Summary: He had played his part in her failure, and for some reason, he felt bad about it. The Warrior Beauty, Okoye, was the only worthy opponent in Wakanda’s ranks, he surmised. She was formidable and impressive, and Attuma of Talokan was not easily impressed.

Content: Wall Sex; Breath Play (kind of but not really); Porn with Feelings

The newly formed alliance was tentative. There was an uneasy tension that crept in between the airiness of the celebrations. Wakanda and Talokan had marked paper and solidified their agreement. The Princess was somber, as was the King, but the festivities surrounding them slowly chipped away at the subdued aura and lightened their moods.

The events of the preceding weeks had ushered in many changes for both mighty nations. They were each mourning losses, but looking for a way forward. The celebrations that followed the signing of the treaty was meant to ease some of the tension, but Attuma felt it coursing through his body as he sat to the right of K’uk’ulkan.

He did not like the surface world, a fact that did not need further explanation, because he could not understand the appeal of it. He was not very fond of Wakanda, but Birnin Zana was a beautiful city. The Golden City, he had heard it being referred to. Attuma was not easily impressed, but he could appreciate beauty when he saw it.

Speaking of beauty, his eyes scanned the banquet hall once again as he sought out the warrior who had helped to lead Wakanda to victory during their short-lived war. From listening to palace chatter, Attuma had gleaned that the warrior they called Okoye had been dealt a great dishonor for her failings. She was no longer the leader of their powerful Dora Milaje. Attuma felt a foreign sense wash over him upon hearing of her fate – something akin to guilt.

He had played his part in her failure, and for some reason, he felt bad about it. The Warrior Beauty, Okoye, was the only worthy opponent in Wakanda’s ranks, he surmised. She was formidable and impressive, and Attuma of Talokan was not easily impressed.

As if summoned by Attuma’s occupied mind, The Warrior Beauty entered the hall. She was met with gracious smiles from her countrymen. Attuma kept his gaze fixed on her. He was a staunch fighter in his own right, his might second to none, save for his King. Yet this Okoye held some kind of power over him. He was fascinated and mesmerized by the woman.

He absently raised his hand to press against his cheek where her weapon had marred his skin; the small wound had healed as quickly as it had been inflicted, but the impression The Warrior Beauty had left on Attuma was indelible.

She drew the attention of many of the invited dignitaries who were milling around, but did not relish in it. She made her way over to the warrior named M’Baku. Attuma watched their exchange with some curiosity. M’Baku leaned down to hear what Okoye had whispered. He proffered a nod of his head and then made his way to the Princess. Attuma’s gaze stayed on Okoye as she discreetly smoothed down her dress and turned to make her exit. Before Attuma could think the better of it, or stop himself, he had excused himself from his King’s side, stood, and followed Okoye.

Okoye had walked far down the corridor in the short amount of time it had taken her to exit the banquet hall. Attuma watched as she made her way to an exit. She waved a hand over a sensor and the door slid open. Then, she stepped through it and was out of Attuma’s sight. He followed her.

He found himself standing in a small courtyard that was lit by strategically placed lights and a blanket of stars overhead. Attuma liked the stars. It was one of the only things he enjoyed about the surface world: Being able to glance at the stars. He was distracted a moment by the shimmering night sky when The Warrior Beauty accosted him.

“Why are you following me?” she asked, suddenly in his space, staring up at him.

A smirk crossed his lips, even though it was shielded by his mask.

“Attuma,” he replied, placing his wide hand to his chest in greeting.

“I know your name,” she replied sternly. “Why are you following me?”

“Why did you not stay at the gala?” he answered with a question of his own.

“I was not required to be there,” said Okoye in a matter-of-fact way. “I do not make it a habit to be in places where I am not needed.”

Attuma held her gaze and said, “Oh, I think that celebration needed you.”

“And why is that?” she asked, suddenly becoming aware of their proximity to one another.

“To make it more interesting,” he posited.

She let out a wry laugh.

“Interesting for whom?”

His eyes scanned Okoye’s face and said, “For me.”

“I am not here for your entertainment, Talokanil.”

A sardonic laugh rumbled through Attuma’s chest.

“No,” he replied, shifting closer to Okoye. “I do not suppose you are.”

She tilted her chin upwards and did not look away as his eyes pierced hers.

“You may go now,” said Okoye, as she moved backwards, turned, and made her way to one of the walls that enclosed the small, private courtyard.

She ran her slender fingers over the smooth, cool glass, tracing along the elaborate designs. Attuma watched for a beat and then stepped forward in her direction. He stood directly behind Okoye; she did not move. With his outstretched hand, he touched the wall as well. His own fingers brushing against Okoye’s. She turned to face him, boxed in by his strong arm and bulk.

“You may go now, Attuma,” she said firmly, but quietly.

An electricity flowed between them, almost palpable. The attraction was resolute.

“You do not wish that, Okoye.”

Her breath hitched ever so slightly at hearing him speak her name. Attuma brought his hand to the side of Okoye’s face and she allowed the touch. He traced his thumb lightly over Okoye’s lips, and felt her shiver.

“You are beautiful, Warrior,” Attuma whispered. “May I kiss you?”

Okoye was stunned but did not reject Attuma, though she said, “How? Will you not drown?”

Attuma searched Okoye’s eyes with his own before offering her a self-assured smile.

“I would happily drown in this sea of air, under this shroud of stars, just to taste your lips on mine.”

Okoye made no reply as she watched Attuma remove his mask. His face was pleasant and handsome; his eyes were intense. He placed a hand to her waist and drew her nearer to him. Okoye surprised them both with how pliant she had become to Attuma’s touch.

When Okoye did not pull away, Attuma leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. It was tentative at first, as he relished in the feeling of her soft, full lips. Soon, as his tongue sought entrance and she relented, the kiss was deeper and hungrier. Attuma pressed his body against Okoye’s slight but strong frame. Her body heat was almost searing as it radiated from her. She tasted like the mulled wine from the feast. He kissed her like a man who might perish from thirst.

Okoye opened her mouth and met Attuma’s kiss with equal fervor as she draped her arms over his shoulders. Their bodies were flush against one another. All of the strength that they had seen and felt from their time as warring adversaries was now keenly focused in a most delicious way.

They each wanted to be closer, to feel one another’s desire. Okoye could feel Attuma’s arousal pressed hard against her. He thrust slightly, just to be sure she knew how delirious she was making him. How intoxicating it was to be that close to The Warrior Beauty.

They broke apart, and Attuma did not know if he was panting because of how Okoye had him wanting, or because he was out of breath.

“Do you want more?” he asked, before peppering hot kisses to Okoye’s elegant neck. “I will give you more if you want it.”

“Yes,” she whispered, more like a moan. “I want more.”

Attuma wasted no more time as his hand quickly travelled up under her dress and between her strong thighs. He rubbed Okoye over her undergarments, causing her to moan more eagerly. The sounds that he had elicited from her set him harder. Attuma slipped his hand inside of the flimsy fabric and found Okoye’s hot sex. She was already wet for him when he trailed a deft finger over her slit. Her knees almost buckled when Attuma pressed a finger inside. He trailed her juices up to her pulsing bud and then rubbed her.

Okoye bit back a curse as she leaned into her pleasure; the pleasure the man who was once her enemy on the battlefield was giving her. He thumbed at her, and she ground down onto his hand, coating his fingers with her sweet nectar as she came undone. Her cries were silenced by Attuma’s mouth.

“More?” he asked, staring into her eyes.

“Yes,” was all she said as she allowed her skirts to be hiked up and herself to be lifted, before she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Attuma had already freed his straining cock as he reached between their bodies. He tore Okoye’s panties from her and then lined himself up at her entrance. They shared another intense stare as he pushed his hardness inside of her hot, wet tightness.

He was already lightheaded from lack of oxygen, but when he was finally enveloped by Okoye’s walls, Attuma thought he might pass out. He closed his eyes, held Okoye in place, and began to thrust into her. She let out pleasured little cries each time Attuma drove himself inside, over and over again. His own whimpers matched Okoye’s in every way except inflection. She was an aural delight. Her moans coming out like a beautiful song. Attuma’s moans came out more guttural.

Attuma fucked like he fought: With ferocity and focus. He was brash, almost arrogant in how he was making The Warrior Beauty grip him tightly and take all that he was giving her. He. thrust up into her more fervently, feeling her walls clench around his soaked length. Okoye’s moans came in louder as her breath came in quicker. Attuma drove into her harder and harder until she found her release for a second time under his touch.

Okoye’s body was almost lax as the pleasure of her orgasm washed over her, Attuma held her in place as he chased his own release. After a few more thrusts, he came with her name on his lips as he spilled his seed inside of her.

They held onto one another as they came down from their high. Attuma placed Okoye gently to the ground, ensuring that she was fine and well before he secured his mask to his face. He watched as she fixed her clothing and then took a deep breath. She was radiant under the starry sky and Attuma felt then that he could understand the appeal of the surface world: To see a timeless beauty like Okoye, breathless and bathed in soft light.

#okoye #attuma of talokan #okoye x attuma #okoyuma #attoye #did we settle on a ship name for them ?

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