#attoye fanfic

[cyb3rscoups]

There’s just something about writing a black woman being loved and spoiled that really hits home for me. It is simply unmatched on my happiness scale.

[siancore]

Chapter 5 from the third installment of The Alliance Kingdoms series.

Summary: Okoye has some doubts as Palace gossip gets to her.

Excerpt:

“You would think the Prince’s Wakandan bride would have an heir in her belly by now.”

“I have heard the Prince has been bedding her regularly.”

Okoye’s mouth fell open and her face flushed with embarrassment: They were talking about her.

[buffaloappabites]

Attoye stans had nothing but a 10 dollar movie ticket, 1 min & 45 secs of screen time & a DREAM, & have managed to write some of my favorite fanfics/art out of what I’ve seen

[mamajankyy]

「 Kiln Me Softly 」

Chapter 4: Slip.

[mickimomo]

Lunch Time - Okoye x Attuma

Author Notes:

I finally got a moment to write something cute for these two. I'll try to crank out Namor and Shuri later.

It all started when Aneka and Attuma were paired up as patrol buddies for a week.

It wasn't rare that they were paired off, from time to time. Neither of them minded it. Attuma appreciated the bubbly warrior. She had become something akin to a younger sister to him with time. And she had always referred to him as her brother-in-law when he and Okoye had announced their engagement.

Today's patrol, however, was interrupted by a frantic Aneka dragging him to the market to grab a few foods.

They settled at a table as she hurried to put something together in a small metal container.

"Aneka, what are you doing?" Attuma tilted his head as he watched her shape a mound of steaming mieliepap into a heart with a spoon.

"I forgot to pack Ayo lunch this morning." She murmured as her brows creased with great concentration. "I have to put something together." She hummed as she poured some hot meat stew out of a styrofoam container into the largest compartment in the metal container.

"Can't she get something?"

"She could, but I don't want her to. This is how I show my love. Although, I wish I could have made something homemade."

"Mm."

Attuma watched her place some roasted vegetables into the last compartment before she began to lay pieces of sweet plantain down to make a small heart.

She blew a kiss at the meal and smiled before placing the lid on it and packing everything else up.

"I think eating something packed with love makes it taste better." She grinned. "Just imagine if Okoye packed you something special." She offered as she got up. "I'll be back in a second." She waved before jogging off to find her wife.

Those words: Just imagine if Okoye packed you something special

Had Attuma in a chokehold for the rest of his time on patrol.

Aneka couldn't help but giggle as she watched him run off in the end.

She'd be expecting a head smack from her sister in the next few days.

"K'iin." Attuma called out as he entered her garden. She was tending to a few squash plants while M20 grazed peacefully, not too far behind her.

"Mm?"

"I patrolled with Aneka today."

"Oh? How did that go?"

He sat down beside her. "Well."

"That's it?"

"It was uneventful."

"And nothing exciting happened?" She laughed softly at his short and simple responses. She could tell something was churning in his mind.

"Aneka made Ayo something for lunch." He looked at her.

"That's nice."

"Yes. It is very nice for one to give their lover a meal made with love."

"Uh huh."

Attuma stared at her long and hard before looking down at the ground.

He pouted for three whole days before Okoye gave in and made something happen for him.

She was a phenomenal cook, thanks to her father. And although she had been married once upon a time, W'Kabi wasn't one who cared for homemade meals and surprises. She had tried it once, but he didn't even touch it. It was a waste of time and effort, and she had hardened her heart enough to never do it again.

Attuma on the other hand, was acting like the sun would fall out of the sky because he couldn't have a lunch prepared by her hands.

She would give him one now, but if he acted poorly, he would be eating vibranium and knuckle sandwiches instead.

But deep down inside, she knew he would be happy with anything she gave him.

Attuma would eat sand and drink saltwater if she served it to him.

So, she had to go above and beyond for him.

She quickly got to work when he left to start his patrol early in the morning.

Attuma was on patrol with Namora today but was settling down for lunch with her and Aj K'uk'ulkan when she found him.

He was pouting over something Namora had tossed together out of pity.

The feathered warrior enjoyed watching him sulk, but this was getting ridiculous.

Even K'uk'ulkan was worried by his sudden lack of appetite and sunken shoulders.

"In ba'ate'el." Okoye called out as she approached with a box wrapped perfectly in a sky blue patterened cloth.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, too forlorn to stand as she drew closer.

"K'iin." He huffed.

She sat down across from him before placing the wrapped box before him. "Ku méejtech uutsil." She gestured to it.

Have a nice meal?

He blinked at the box before he slowly began to undo the cloth and found a two-layered metal lunch box.

The first layer had freshly cut fruits and a small salad.

The second layer had some stewed goat served with samp and beans.

She watched him stare it all before she cursed softly under her breath, instantly catching his attention.

"I forgot to grab your drink."

"You did not."

"Huh?"

"What you have between your legs is plenty."

Namora choked on her food and K'uk'ulkan tried to stop himself from cackling as Okoye began to curse Attuma out in xhosa.

"Dios bo’otik, K'iin." He beamed when she was finally done chewing him out.

"Don't thank me. How many times do I have to tell you to stop being vulgar."

"It is not vulgar. It is honesty."

"That is not honesty."

"It is. I will please you when I am finished to show my gratitude."

"You aren't pleasing shit." She scowled. "Please me by eating the food and leaving me be."

"But I will be thirsty."

"ATTUMA!"

"Please." Namora gasped for air while her cousin pressed her rebreather on her face. "We are eating."

K'uk'ulkan laughed as he helped her. "He is in love. Do not discourage him."

Namora wheezed. "I almost died."

"You will understand when someone you love brings you food." Attuma patted her shoulder.

Namora scoffed. "There isn't a single soul bold enough to bring me food."

"Maybe if you ask the priestess, she might bring you something."

Namora's face purpled. "She would never."

"You never know." Okoye shrugged. "Although, Oni doesn't cook much. She can only cook five things and fire."

"Is Shuri any better?" K'uk'ulkan tilted his head at the warrior.

"She can cook, but it is very rare. You'd be lucky to even get a snack from her."

"Well, there's hope." He hummed.

"Very little."

"Yes, but there is hope."

Attuma was in his own little world as he started to eat his meal.

And that his how it all started.

Bloopers:

Namora when Attuma said Okoye was his drink.

[miscellaneousjay]

For all the black girl nerd Attoye fanfic lovers, @sphinx81 and @xblackreader are doing the damn thing in these internet streets! They both have so much Attoye work between both of their blogs, it’s ridiculous in the best way! Follow them and they’ll have you bingeing and wanting more! I know I’m missing more by other amazing peeps, but these are consistently on my particular radar. Reblog and add yourself/others so we can all find more of these amazing works!

[richonne4life]

Chapter 3 has been posted!

So this fic was supposed to only be three chapters, but these two need four chapters to get where they're going 💕 I appreciate all the likes, reblogs, comments and kudos!

@siancore Almost to the finish line with this story! 🤗

[pilesofpillows]

Stars Within || Okoye x Attuma

A Sea of Stars ~ Part 1 of 3

Summary: Attuma's enhanced hearing picks up on more than just the sound of his love's heart.

Warnings: Fluffy Fluff, A Little Bit of a Tear-Jerker

Tags: @xblackreader @mickimomo

A/N: I should say again that I'm supposed to be working on other things... and I am, I swear! I just can't focus on any one thing 😅

Word Count: 1.5k

Attuma stood in the kitchen looking over at his beloved lounging on the sofa, admiring her relaxed beauty. Okoye sat with her knees bent, a book in hand, reading leisurely, humming along to the rhythmic music in the background. The warm lights of the room caught on the arcs of her brows and cheeks, illuminating the rich brown of her skin in an ethereal glow. The corners of her mouth were upturned in a small, content smile that beckoned to him, a siren unaware of her allure.

She was breathtaking.

He wanted to bask in her presence and worship at her altar.

As though she could hear the longing in his heart, her eyes darted up from her book and caught him staring. Okoye smiled, wide and full, and Attuma felt his heart stutter. 

“Ndijoyine, sithandwa.” An outstretched hand accompanied the quiet invitation.

A goddess offered him solace in her arms. There was never any thought to refuse; how could he?

Attuma crossed the room quickly, taking her hand as he settled beside her feet. She pulled her knees in further to give him more room, but he drew them back, pulling them over his legs. He pressed a reverent kiss to her knuckles before releasing her hand to massage the muscles of her calves. Attuma felt Okoye’s eyes studying him for a moment before she returned to her reading. He focused solely on the task at hand, working the tension from her muscles until they were pliant. Once he was done, Attuma ran his hands up and down the length of her calf, tracing partial glyphs into the smooth skin. 

Okoye leaned forward, scooting closer to press a kiss to his bare shoulder and resting her chin on him. “Thank you, my love.” 

“You’re welcome, in diosa,” he murmured, turning his head to capture her lips in a sweet kiss. 

Okoye sighed into his mouth and cupped his face, deepening their kiss. Attuma traced her bottom lip with his tongue, then sucked gently. The temptation for more was there, and perhaps he would indulge later, but for now, he simply wanted to relish in the feel of her. To delight in the intimacy they’d built. 

Their lips parted slowly, and Attuma blinked, watching Okoye’s eyes flutter open. They were lovely, dark, and deep, an ocean he’d willingly drown in. She smiled; it was the same soft, sweet smile she’d given him when she’d first mastered the macuahuitl. The one that arrested his heart and stole the very breath from his lungs. 

Attuma was overcome. “In yaakunech, Okoye.” The words were whispered, but a declaration nonetheless. 

Okoye’s eyes melted, and she rubbed her thumb over his cheek, tracing the scar that marked him as hers. 

“Teen xan in yabilmech, Attuma.”

Attuma closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers. There was nothing but them in this moment. Here, he was just a man who loved a woman, and it was here he was content to stay until the stars rained down from the heavens. He pressed a whisper of a kiss to her lips, then another on her nose, and a final one to her forehead. 

Okoye was smiling again when he pulled away, tender and sweet. “Be careful; you’ll spoil me with all this love and affection. Then I’ll have to keep you forever.” 

Attuma wished she would. He knew he would never love anyone the way he loved her. Her name had been engraved on his soul.

Okoye laid back, resting her head on the arm of the sofa, ignorant of his thoughts. She’d returned to her novel, engrossed in the story. 

Despite her legs still being in his lap, Attuma resented the distance between them. He shifted her legs gently, parting them so he could lay between them. Okoye shifted with him, wiggling her hips to adjust to his weight. He wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his head on her stomach. Her hand found its way to his hair, stroking his obsidian waves.

Attuma lulled in her embrace, soothed by the gentle pull of her fingers in his hair. He nuzzled further into her stomach. Pressing his ear to her midsection, Attuma was met with the rhythmic cadence of her heartbeat… and something else.

There was a soft, rapid flutter alongside the constant thump of Okoye’s heart.

His eyes shot open, and he focused intently, listening harder. 

There it was, sure and steady like the galloping of one of K’iino’s rhinos.

A heartbeat. One that did not belong to Okoye.

“Attuma?” Okoye’s hand was frozen in his hair, midstroke. She moved to sit up, but he held her still, concentrating on the quiet pulse within her. “Attuma, is everything okay?”

Her voice was edged with panic, and her heart rate increased along with… their child’s. He ran a hand along her back, trying to calm her. “K'úulen, in K'iino'. Everything is fine… I think.”

He glanced up at Okoye. Her brows were knit together, her dark eyes twin pools of concern.

“You think?”

Attuma hummed, kneading circles into her lower back and waist. His eyes darted between her face and stomach. “I- I cannot say for certain, in yakunaj. Are you- Have you-” his voice trailed off, unsure how to ask Okoye if she had noticed the new life forming within her. 

“Have I what, sithandwa?” she asked, pulling her hand from his hair and setting her book down. Attuma pulled his head away from her middle reluctantly, already missing the thundering pulse of his child. His heart was nearly torn in two when he saw the worry on her face. 

“Okoye. In K’iino’, there’s- you are-,” Attuma found it hard to articulate and huffed a laugh of disbelief while bolstering himself on his elbows. “You are with child, in yakunaj.”

Okoye blinked. “Eh? Uxolo?”

He could hear the disbelief in her tone and see it in the furrow of her brow. He sat up on his knees and scooted closer to her, resting his hands on her thighs. 

“You are pregnant, Okoye,” Attuma repeated, looking her in the eye. 

She sat up, letting out a short, high-pitched laugh that bordered on hysterical before sobering when she saw his face. “You’re serious? What- How- How do you know?”

He glanced back down to her stomach, where he could faintly hear the echo of the life within her. Attuma remembered when his na’ had been pregnant with the last of his sisters, how she brought his head to her stomach and let him listen to the rapid pulse of his sibling. He’d been in awe. 

Now, here with the love of his life, he was struck by that same sense of awe. Of all the years he’d lived in the sea, the wars he’d fought, and the great violence he’d dealt on behalf of his king, Attuma had never felt so overwhelmed by emotion. He swallowed thickly, feeling his eyes well up. 

“Their heart, K’iino’... I can hear their heart,” he breathed. Okoye’s sharp gasp rang in his ears, and her hands flew to her stomach. His eyes were transfixed there, and he ached to hear the sound of his paalo’ once more. 

“Attuma.” Okoye’s voice was a hoarse, wet whisper, and his gaze snapped to her face. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You- you can hear them?” 

Attuma reached a hand out, covering hers with his own, pressing gently. “I can. As sure as I can hear your own.”

Okoye squeezed her eyes shut, spilling tears over her cheeks. Her bottom lip quivered, and her voice shook. “How do they sound?”

“Beautiful,” he answered, still marveling at their blessing. Attuma cupped Okoye’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe her tears away. He brought their foreheads together. “Strong and steady, like the galloping of your fiercest land whales.”

“Bast help you, it's a rhinoceros, Attuma." His beloved let out a wet laugh, rolling her eyes. "A baby? Truly?”

Attuma grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Yes, K'iino'. Our baby.”

Dark eyes locked on his. “Our baby?”

“Yes, in yakunaj, our baby. Tia'alo' yéetel le mía. [Yours and mine.].” Attuma needed her to understand that he would be here. Nothing above the surface or below it could pull him away from them. From her.

He knew the hurt of her ex-husband’s betrayal still lingered within her. He knew a secret part of her heart still held back, afraid to love him with abandon. He knew, and he understood. Okoye gave all she could, which was more than enough for him. The pieces she had given him, he treasured. He always would.

Okoye huffed and shook her head before burying her face in his neck. Attuma pulled her into his lap and held her close as she muttered in rapid Xhosa, too quick for him to comprehend fully. He did understand one thing, though. 

Ndiyakuthandana.

I love you.

Okoye repeated it over and over, pressing feverish kisses up his neck between each utterance until their lips collided in heated passion. Attuma cradled her face in his hands as their lips parted, staring at her reverently. Red-rimmed brown eyes stared back at him, shining with love and adoration.

“We’re going to have a baby, Attuma,” Okoye breathed. 

“Yes, in yakunaj,” Attuma replied. He smiled wide. “Jump'éel eek'e' ichil in K'iino'. [A star within my Sun.].”

A Sea of Stars:

Part II - Stars Abound

Part III - Stars Aglow

[dasphinxone]

"If It’s Not One Thing, It’s The Next …"

Okoye x Attuma Nation, go read this fic. Like, RIGHT DAMN NOW. It's an awesome AU and the food y'all have been begging for. It's got action, conspiracies, a firmly established enemy whose asses we all wanna kick, partnerships, a whole-ass buffet of amazing tropes.

So go give @cupidzboww her flowers please!

[kyattuma]

Me During Attoye Week

It's like a reward.

All of yall ATE.

No crumbs left BEHIND.

I've been haven't been gaming and barely been outside for almost a week because i've been reading so many fanfics. if yall see any out of pocket kinky comments under y'alls stories on Ao3 under the name Kyaki or Kyako It's not me. I'm a child of Christ. You guys are so talented i hope to write as good as all of you one day <3

[cyb3rscoups]

Shameless (18+)

A/N: Explicit Content ahead, Minors DNI

“Attuma…”

Okoye’s voice hoarse as she tried to speak under the grip of his hand to her throat.

“Whatever you have to say…It can wait.” He spread her legs over his thighs and forced her head back on his shoulder.

Okoye squealed as he began to thrust again, his hips snapping up into her with no grace. She was so slick, warm, wet. He never wanted to leave her again.

With his rebreather tossed carelessly to the floor, he latched his lips to her neck, sucking bruises into the skin.

“Ooh oh fuck! Attuma!” Okoye gripped his wrist as his grip tightened. “I can’t-“

“Yeah you can. I told you to stop talking didn’t I? Look at your self, all spread out for me.”

He grabbed her chin, forcing her head to the side so she could look through the bedroom mirror. And there she was, straddling his lap as his dick moved in and out of her so deliciously she could cry.

“So wet…Shit…you get this wet when you were yelling at me? Hm?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Yeah? This what you wanted? Needed some dick to make you act right?”

“Yes!” She cried in his arms as he drilled into her sloppy yet still hitting the right spot. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Let me see it.” He brought a hand down, rubbing tight circles onto her clit. Her legs clenched as she came on his lap adding to the soaking mess that was her arousal.

She barely got a chance to recover before Attuma was lifting her and pressing her face into the mattress.

With her ass up, landed a smack to her right cheek before gripping her up by her hips and slamming back into her.

“Gonna feel me in this pussy for days…” His lip tucked between his teeth as he thrusted languidly, losing his stamina the longer he was without his mask. He’d be pissed if he had to take a break.

“Do me a favor and bounce that ass on me for a minute.”

“Where’s your breather?”

“Don’t worry about me right now. Come on.”

He guided her hips as they met his until she found her own rhythm to get where she needed.

Attuma threw his head back as she rolled her hips against him, her sweet moans and whines music to his ears.

His eyes drifted to the rebreather on the floor and suddenly the air seemed a lot thinner.

“Alright…enough bullshitting” He thrusted his hips to meet her pace as her moan grew in pitch. Her toes curled and she was close again. He tailed right behind her. He just needed a few mor-

“Oh fuck! Okoye!” He was painting her walls white as a tingling lingered in his abdomen.

Once his high was settled, a different one took its place and he was gasping for his rebreather in seconds.

Okoye pulled her self out of her haze and picked up the mask, taking it to the bathroom to refill.

“Here!” She connected the device and Attuma took a breath.

“Oh shit.”

Okoye chuckled, laying her head on his chest as he returned to earth.

“Were you about to kill yourself for a nut?”

“It would’ve been worth it.”

[siancore]

Chapter 4 from the third installment of The Alliance Kingdoms series.

Summary: The honeymoon is almost over.

Excerpt:

“Okoye,” said Attuma as he stood and moved in her direction. “I know what you are thinking.”

“Oh, do you now?” she shot back, suddenly annoyed.

Why was it that she was not privy to the discussions that the two men in her life were to engage in, discussion of her no less? Was her role in the Alliance of no import outside of her biology? Was she really just there to be an incubator for the future heir of Talokan without any further input into how the great nation was to be governed?

“Princess, please.”

“Do not call me that,” she retorted lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders.

“Okoye.”

“I am royalty in title only,” she added, her annoyance growing. “I serve no other purpose than to warm your bed, it seems.”

[buffaloappabites]

When The Party's Over

Pairing: Attuma x Okoye

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Attuma is kind of a simp, yearning, kinda fluff kinda sad

 A/N: I’m writing this at 4 am while listening to Billie Eilish. Shout out to the Discord babes <3

Attuma stands in Okoye’s home having been told to come here and wait for her to leave the palace. It’s dark and silent, with nothing but the moonlight pouring in through the windows, illuminating various surfaces, and casting shadows upon others. Her home is empty, no trace of recent life other than the 7 foot tall man standing in her living room. It’s odd to him, how a home that is usually so warm and inviting can suddenly make him feel so isolated and alone. 

He moves slowly through the living room and he sits on the couch, it creaking a bit due to his size. He’s occupied this space with Okoye on so many late nights, it feels empty without her. He pulls out his cell phone and holds the small object in his hands. He’d broken his first few iPhones, so Okoye settled on getting him a sturdy Nokia. She’d taken the time to show him how to save numbers and make calls. He couldn’t quite figure out the texting bit, but he figured he didn’t need to. He’d much rather hear the sweet sound of Okoye’s voice late at night anyway. 

He slowly clicks through the phone, carefully trying to press the right buttons to reach her. He finds her name and hesitates for a moment. He’s always a bit shy about calling her. Which is odd, because Attuma is someone who moves through life with his shoulders firm, so confident it borders on arrogance.  He nervously hunches over, sucks in his lips and stares anxiously at the screen. 

‘Maybe she’s busy.’

‘Maybe the party is just running long.’

‘Maybe peace agreements aren’t going as planned.’

 If Namora could see him now he’d never hear the end of it. He sits upright and sucks in a breath, hitting the call button as fast as he can before he can change his mind. 

There’s a lot of chatter in the background, the music is a hair too loud, and he can’t quite make sense of anything.

“Hello?” He says nervously, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake.

The sound becomes muffled, then muted, before her voice comes through. 

His heart begins to beat a bit faster at the sound of her voice no matter how muffled.

“Hello?” She answers.

“When are you coming home?” he asked, desperately hoping she says soon or that she's already on her way.

“I can’t hear you, but things are fine if you’re asking. I’ll call you when the party is over, okay?”

Before Attuma can answer the phone disconnects, and he’s left sitting in the lonely silence of her living room.

Okoye herself stands near the door of a party hall located within the palace . Almost everyone, young or old has gathered together to celebrate, dance and feast over the recent peace agreement between Wakanda and Talokan. Her phone had rang while she was mid conversation with Queen Shuri, and she excused herself to take the call, praying Shuri didn’t find it strange she’d be receiving a call when everyone was here. Well almost everyone. 

Okoye already knew he was calling and why. Attuma had taken the night off, leaving Namora to guard Namor so he'd be free to meet her later at her place. She came to the party, figuring it'd be suspicous if they both didn't show. She moved closer to the door and checked her surroundings making sure no one was in ear shot before answering. Her phone was breaking up and she could just barely make out his deep voice on the other end.

“When are you coming home?” She hears him say, a certain longing in his voice. It rings in her ear, through her head, down to her feet. It makes her heart beat faster and her throat dry up.

“I can’t hear you, but things are fine if you’re asking. I’ll call you when the party is over, okay?” Is all she can manage to say before hanging up.

Does she feel guilty?

A little. 

She hadn’t meant to make him feel any type of way by hanging up so quickly. But he doesn’t know the affect he has on her. 

She has an image to protect and a status to uphold.

It had been damaged bad enough with Wakabi’s banishment and her being removed as General. While a treaty had been signed relations between Wakandans and the Talokanil were still very tense. 

She could not have her relationship with Attuma exposed, not after only just become a Midnight Angel. And people would call for her head if it came out that they’d messed around before peace negotiations were even thought of.

And banishment be damned, she was still technically a married woman.

Though physically present at the party, her mind began to wonder back to their first fight, and the way he’d found her after.

——————————————————————

Once she’d been ousted from her position as general, she found herself walking alone through the city late at night, wandering wherever her feet would take her. She’d walked all morning and afternoon, trying to clear her head and think about anything else but the fight would not stop playing over and over again in her head. 

Every block.

Every blow.

Every clang of weapons.

It was almost like a dance between the two of them.

She’d finally met her match and the thought absolutely terrified her.

And excited her.

She cursed herself for thinking that way. Thinking of the broad blue muscles and dark eyes that stood over her on that bridge. 

The way he grabbed her so easily, no one has been able to do that before, and it shook her to her core.

She couldn't sort through the rush of emotions she'd been feeling all day. Anger, Sadness, Desperation, Loneliness. She hadn’t even realized she’d walked to the beach until the smell of sand and salt water hit her nose.

An immense wave of sadness began to overtake her, and she finally let her self fall into the sand. She began to curse the seas and every grain of sand and dug into her palms as she cried doubled over, letting herself fall apart.

She had no husband, no job, and was completely lost. All alone.

She’d been too busy falling apart, she barely heard the waves part, or the heavy footsteps heading towards her until they were too close to ignore.

When she sensed him she scowled, backing away quickly in the sand.

She looked up at him, offended that he’d caught her in such a vulnerable position, and she steeled herself for his inevitable attack, ready to fight back.

But the attack didn’t come.

—————————————

It had been her idea to keep it a secret.

If it were his choice he’d mark her as his own, parade her around both Wakanda and Talokan without a care in the world. 

But he understood why she wanted to hide, he didn’t have to like it, but he understood. So he respected that. There’s honestly no way of knowing when he’d completely turned to mush for Okoye. Maybe it was the second time they fought, or the third.

 Maybe it was one of the many times she’d sneak to the beach in the dead of the night and they’d sit and bask in the moonlight together. Sometimes he’d tell her all about Talokan, and other times it’d be pure comfortable silence. He’d admire her beautifully shaped face or her brown eyes.

Or maybe it’d be the nights were she’d find away to sneak all seven feet of him into her home. She’d make him food to try, and teach him things about the surface world. He’d listen attentively, hanging on to every word, while admiring her dark skin in the soft yellow lights of her home.

It doesn’t really matter when it was he supposes. Because he’s here now.

And he’s willing to sit here in this dark room.

He’ll wait for her, no matter how long she takes.

[mamajankyy]

「 Kiln Me Softly 」

Chapter 3: Wedged.

Summary: The events following Okoye’s date from hell.

[mickimomo]

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

[richonne4life]

The final chapter has been posted 🎉

Enjoy the conclusion to this Attoye story! Again, from the reblogs to the kudos, I appreciate the support! I love these two and loved writing this for them 🥰

@siancore There aren't enough thank yous I can give you for sharing your writing magic with us 💐 I wrote this for you, hoping to put a smile on your face the way your stories--no matter the fandom--put a smile on mine 😊 🤗