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pilesofpillows · 2 years ago

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First Comes Marriage (We're Already in Love, Keep Up) || Attoye Excerpt

Attoye Week Day 3: Fluff/Comedy

A/N: Peeks in... Hi, it's been a minute 😅 I do have updates to deliver and I will get there, I promise. For now though, here's a quick snack from one of my Attoye Week fics...

A snackie for @attoye-week

This is the premise and I know the title is long, but it'll make sense later 😂

Attuma stood at the edge of N’Tando’s property, taking in the sprawling expanse of Okoye’s family land. Herds of goats, sheep, and horses grazed behind deceptively frail-looking fences. A round house sat on top of one of the hills, simple in its outward appearance, but Attuma knew better.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It was strange, this disquiet coursing through him. His feet felt rooted in place, yet his soul felt like an untethered island drifting in the sea. Attuma did not get nervous. His assurance in who he was had carried him through many of life’s highs and lows. Even on the eves of great battles, Attuma remained steady.

But this was not battle. At least not one he was familiar with.

As if sensing his nervousness, Iktan grabbed his hand in both of hers, squeezing slightly. “Ko'oten, nacom. K ilej wa Chaac ka Bast u séen kaxa'antbil ti' le eek'o'obo'. [Come, general. Let us see if Chaac and Bast have met in the stars.].”

Attuma chuckled, “Yaan ti' leti'ob [They have]. No other could compare. You will soon see.”

“Then let us go and meet your wife, General,” Iktan smiled.

Attuma nodded and gave a low whistle, calling his múuch to attention and instructing them to wait at the bottom of the hill while he and Iktan spoke with his love’s father. Hopefully, the man would not reject the gifts or his proposal.

N’Tando greeted them with a wide grin, waving as Attuma and Iktan made their way up the hill. Attuma waved back, a small smile lighting his face at the baby goat in the man’s large arms.

“Molo, General Attuma! This is a surprise!” N’Tando said jovially, shifting the small animal in his arms to give him the Talokanil salute.

Attuma’s smile widened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, returning his salute with the Wakandan variation. Ignoring Iktan’s surprised glance, he asked the elder Wakandan if he had a moment to talk.

“Of course!” the man answered, leading them toward the house. “Let me get this one settled with his mother, and we can speak inside. I should warn you, though, Okoye isn’t here. She mentioned a new trail she wanted to hike, out in the thicket.”

A quick sigh of relief left him, and Attuma silently thanked Chaac for the serendipity of this moment. It would be awkward to ask permission to marry Okoye in front of her. If she was traipsing through the jungle, there was little chance of interruption. And when she did return, she would likely be wearing one of the sinfully tight outfits she called workout gear. The gods were indeed smiling on him today.

Attuma could picture the maddening amount of rich, brown skin that would be on display, glistening with sweat from her exertion. The deep cleft of her breasts pressed together by her top. The sumptuous curve of her behind outlined perfectly in skin-tight shorts. His thoughts nearly ran away with him when Iktan cleared her throat, drawing him back to the present.

“That is fine,” Attuma replied, clearing his own throat. “I did not come to speak with Okoye.”

N’Tando’s smile faltered as he released the goat behind the fence. A brief look of confusion graced his face, but he shook his head and pressed on. “Well, no matter. Let us go inside.”

As they entered the main living area, Attuma was once again fascinated with the ingenuity of the Wakandan people. The outside and upper level of the house was simple. The hut was round with a sloping thatched roof, appearing simple and innocuous. The upper level was the same, a modest living space with a small kitchen and two bedrooms. However, a hidden panel in the kitchen revealed a set of stairs leading to an underground structure every bit as advanced as Okoye’s sky-high home in the Golden City.

N’Tando invited them to sit at the table in his dining room, offering them drinks of water before taking a seat across from them.

“So, General, what brings you here today?”

Attuma felt the same nervousness from before take hold of his tongue, sticking it to the roof of his mouth. Being nervous was not unthinkable; this was a monumental moment. But his silence was quickly making it awkward. He gulped and removed his rebreather to take a drink of water.

Sighing, Attuma looked Okoye’s father in the eye. “I would like to introduce you to Iktan. She is an atanzahab. A matchmaker. She has divined matches in my family for three generations.”

N’Tando once again looked confused but smiled at Iktan. “It is good to meet you, Iktan. I am N’Tando, son of N’Jabulo. I imagine you must be very good at what you do to have the General’s trust.”

Iktan smiled warmly. “I do nothing but consult the gods on behalf of those who seek to join their souls eternally. But yes, I do consider myself quite good.”

N’Tando laughed at that, loud and boisterous, and Iktan joined him.

Okoye’s father was a joyful man, always ready with a bright smile and an easy laugh. He took pride in his work and in his family, unafraid of making difficult choices or confronting hard truths. When Okoye had introduced them the first time, Attuma feared the man wouldn’t be receptive to the one directly responsible for his daughter’s demotion. However, N’Tando greeted him like an old friend and commanded him to help wrangle the goats back into their pen. Attuma had done so, half-shocked by the ease with which the proud man accepted his presence in his daughter’s life. The one time Attuma questioned N’Tando’s approval, his love’s father had answered simply. “You make her happy.”

Attuma fully returned the sentiment. He’d been captivated by her battle prowess on the bridge, enchanted by her ferocity when they’d faced each other aboard the Wakandan Sea Leopard, and enthralled when she’d demanded to be taught water combat after the alliance between their people was formalized. When they’d begun sparring regularly, trading combat techniques and family remedies, Attuma found himself falling more and more in love with each passing day. They built trust, stone by stone, laying an unbreakable foundation of friendship. And eventually, when the formidable woman allowed him past her defenses and into her heart, he knew.

There would never be another for him. Okoye brought a joy to his life like he had never known. A light and warmth to his soul he’d never felt.

As their laughter died, Attuma straightened in his chair. “I have brought Iktan here in hopes that we can begin the conversation to formalize Okoye and I’s courtship.”

N’Tando was silent.

The man’s blank stare sent a trill of panic through Attuma, and words began to pour from his lips in a rushing tumble of air. “I realize she has been married before, but I still wished to follow tradition. It is why I brought Iktan. I was not sure of Wakandan traditions, but still, Okoye deserves the respect of a proper proposal. I asked Aneka and she mentioned an exchange of aalak’, so I brought goats raised in a small village by the surface dwellers near Talokan. I brought other gifts as well, hand-plucked pearls, and even a fertilizer that my chiich created for your squash and melon plants.”

N’Tando sat back and crossed his arms, stroking his beard. “You have come to ask if you can marry Okoye.”

Attuma nodded, “Yes. It is my belief that our destinies have been twined since the moment she spilled my blood.”

~ magis postmodum ~

A/N 2: That's all for now folks... I'll see y'all next week sometime with a chapter of at least one of my WIPs that needs updating 😅

#attoye week #attoye week day 3 #attoye week participant #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #okoye x attuma fanfiction #attoye week snippet #pilesofpillows

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midnight-oily · 2 years ago

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a lovestruck secret

attoye fluff | 2k words | @attoye-week day 1 | ao3 link

“So…what were you doing so late in Shuri’s lab?”

Sitting on her couch, dressed in his finest jade and fabrics, Attuma blinks at Okoye’s sudden question. He coughs nervously, adjusting his cape around his neck. This was not how he expected their date night to go.

Their courtship was fresh—only a few weeks old but he assumed that it was going well. All their friends and family knew they were attempting to make something work. Physically, it’s been slow but they have cuddled and held hands. With the great difficulties they face, from the distance of their homes to their differences in respiratory biology, they have done their best to work around them.

Half of their date time in Wakanda usually took place in Okoye’s bathroom, where Attuma would take frequent breaks to soak in her tub. Meanwhile, when Okoye visited Talokan, the only places they could really have some privacy was if they journeyed to some of the more remote cenotes that dotted Talokan’s territory. Not all of which had amenities that could accommodate surface dwellers.

Their date nights (as Okoye calls their visits) has not been easy, but it was worth it.

She was worth it.

“I was not aware that Princess Shuri’s lab had a curfew,” Attuma responds cordially. He thanks Chaac that his hair does not dry as quickly as his skin or else Okoye might spot the drops of his nervous sweat.

Okoye taps her feet impatiently, heels clicking against the tiled floor, “You two have been… working together more frequently as of late.”

“Talokan and Wakanda are allies,” he explains diplomatically, “I am merely providing my expertise to Princess Shuri.” Okoye’s eyes narrow, studying his face to catch even the briefest hint of deception. Technically, nothing he has said is a lie. He’s just reinterpreting the truth.

“Tell me, what kind of expertise are you offering her?” She demands, sitting herself down on the other side of the couch, “What project are you two working on that requires the expertise of a Talokanil general?” Attuma only lasts a few seconds under her accusing glare before he awkwardly looks down at his shuffling feet.

“You would need to ask your Princess for the details.”

“Interesting,” she replies with a sour tone, “Shuri told me the same thing. Except to ask you.”

Attuma swallows. He had no response to that.

“Enough,” Okoye sighs, rubbing the temples of her forehead, “I’m too old for these games.”

“Okoye…?”

She scoots directly next to him, forcing him to acknowledge her presence. Attuma looks at her wide eyed, cheeks warming as he could feel the pounding of her heart against his skin. From the day he first fought her on the bridge, he always thought she was a beautiful woman. Up close and personal like this? Stunning, like the sun.

Okoye presses against his shoulder, her words cold and menacing, “Are you cheating on me?”

Startled by Okoye’s sudden accusation, Attuma stutters as he shakes his head, bubbles foaming in his breather, “I-I have done you no dishonor! I would never do such a cowardly thing!”

“You haven’t answered my calls recently,” Okoye folds her arms over her chest defensively, “You are distracted on the training ground, unable to even look at me in the eye —” Attuma tries to protest but she lifts up a finger in warning, silencing him, “—And you won’t answer even the most basic questions about this project you’ve been working on with my own liege!”

“I–I swear that it will be explained in time—”

“Is this project somewhere between her legs?!”

“I have no interest in the Princess of Wakanda! We are merely working together!”

“Funny considering you’ve been staying late every night in Shuri’s lab this week!”

Attuma grasps Okoye’s hand, holding it against his chest in the hopes that she may feel his sincerity, “In yaakumech! I swear, there is no other! I do not wish to court anyone but you–”

“So why can’t you tell me what is going on?!” she asks incredulously, tearing her hand away from him, “Why can’t Shuri?”

“Because I’ve asked the Princess to keep quiet.”

“Quiet about what?!”

Attuma doesn’t answer. His mouth opens and then closes. His eyes darted side to side, trying to think of exactly what to say. What could he say? It was too soon. He needed to stall a little bit longer. How long did Shuri say? Maybe an additional week of testing plus—

“Fine. Get out.”

Startled out of his thoughts, Attuma gaped at Okoye’s sudden demand.

“Yaakunaj…?”

The ex-general stands up from the couch, placing her hands on her hips as she gazes down at him with a glare that would have killed most men.

“We’re done,” she says cooly, “If you can’t be open with me, then I’m wasting my time. I’m too old to be entertaining men with secrets. Leave.”

Attuma hangs his head—his heart sinking into his stomach. No—no! It’s going all wrong. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. Should he just tell her? If he tells her, perhaps she would—

“Did you not hear me?” Okoye snaps, gesturing to her door, “Get up and get out! We are done!”

He glances back up at her, briefly taking in her angry expression with a wince. He swallows again, his Adam’s apple bobbing before standing up slowly, unable to meet her eyes.

As Attuma was about to turn towards her doorway, the most ludicrous idea popped into his head. It was risky. Even deadly. Yet if he could pull it off, everything would be made right. If he was a smarter man, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion. Alas, he was a man in love and it is known that lovestruck men are stupidest of all men.

Attuma faces Okoye directly, meeting her deadly glare straight on with a stupidly bright smile. Before she could even react, he reaches up, pulls his face-breather off and crushes it with his fist.

“Isidenge! What are you doing!?” shouts Okoye as she watches the vibranium pieces of the breather fall onto the ground, “W-We must get you to water!”

She snatches his wrist—the one that crushed the breather and tries to tug him towards her bathroom where she had prepped the tub earlier. However Attuma holds still against her pulling. Still smiling as stupidly bright as ever.

“Why are you fighting me!?” She hisses at him, irritated at his lack of urgency, “Just because I have rejected you doesn’t give you the right to die of asphyxiation in my living room!”

Using both of her hands to grip his wrists, he finally stumbles a few steps forward. Even with her mini victory, Attuma’s smile only grows. Okoye huffs with exasperation—she was once a general. It’s not enough to win the battle, she must win the war!

They continue on for a bit: Okoye furiously tugging at him and Attuma giving into her every couple tugs or so. With each minute that passes, Attuma’s smile grows wider and wider until the man lets out a small chuckle of delight.

“Eh?” Okoye’s eyebrows furrow as she pauses in her tugging to stare at Attuma’s happy loopy expression, “What is so funny?!” He shakes his head, biting his tongue to keep the growing happiness in his belly from bursting. He looks like he’s about to cry, yet he’s grinning ear to ear.

What on Bast's Earth is happening to this man?

She’s convinced it might be a side effect of the lack of oxygen. She starts tugging again, more fiercely than before.

“Okoye—” He speaks her name softly. Sweetly. As if her name was a prayer to the gods.

“This. Is. Not. Funny! I am NOT dealing with your corpse!”

“Okoye, it’s been—What is the measurement? Thirty minutes?”

“You stupid man, if it has been truly thirty minutes then you would have been…”

She stops as her eyes flicker to her living room clock. Her lips part in shock as she double checks, even triple checks the time. It has been exactly thirty three minutes and forty two seconds.

“...out of breath and… dead.”

With all her tugging, it certainly felt no more than five minutes. Yet even with quadruple checking the time with her kimoyo beads, there was no denying it.

Attuma has been standing on land, without a breather, for over thirty minutes.

Not even a surfacer could hold their breath underwater for that long, let alone a Talokanil. She drops his wrists, taking a few shaky steps back to examine him up and down.

“Y-you can breathe on land now? H-how?”

Attuma reaches up to his shoulder and pulls down the edge of his cape, “Princess Shuri’s project. A breather prototype that I’ve been developing with her.”

Underneath the fabric, Okoye was able to spot a thin vibranium collar wrapped tightly around his neck. It pulses with a faint glow as it draws in oxygen from the air.

Dazed, Okoye reached out to touch the collar, tracing the edge of it with a warm finger. Attuma delights in the occasional brush of her nails against his skin. She tilts her head curiously, “How long have you been able to do this?”

“This is the first time the contraption worked.”

“What!?” Okoye darts her hand back, afraid that her touch may have damaged it in some way, “You could have died!”

“But I didn’t.”

“You idiotic—”

Okoye lets out a colorful wave of curses—Why did she agree to date the stupidest, most reckless man in the ocean?!

“—Why keep this a secret from me?!”

“Because I wanted to surprise you with this—”

Salt. That’s the first thing Okoye tastes when Attuma presses his lips against hers. He is the ocean—the rolling tide of a mighty sea that comes crashing down upon her shore. The sharkbone piercing on his nose presses against her skin and she gasps, allowing his tongue to slip inside. His hands curl around her hips, pulling her tighter against him and instinctively, she curls her arms around his wide shoulders.

Okoye was no blushing virgin. She was once married and had her fair share of lovers but something about this man—this warm, gentle, sweet man—that is making her giddy like a schoolgirl. She deepens the kiss, dancing her tongue with his in a fierce battle that neither would back down from. They were the greatest warriors of their nations—it would not do for either of them to give in so easily.

She gives him a few victories—a sigh, another gasp and even a moan for him to devour. In return, he gives her guttural groans as she nibbles on his bottom lip, amused by how such a small act can cause a grown man to tremble delightfully.

With this one kiss, all their worries and concerns have shrunk into a speck of insignificance.

There was no Talokan or Wakanda. No alliances or enemies.

There was only Attuma and Okoye. A lovestruck man with his love drunk woman.

Feeling Okoye begin to quiver at the intensity of their kiss, Attuma pulls back just a little, observing her with half-hooded eyes,“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to keep it a secret from you for long, yaakunaj. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed if it didn’t work.”

His hands were still tight around her waist, not wanting to let her go just yet. She looks at him with teary eyes, a mix of both happiness and annoyance—She thought he was going to actually die! This man will be the death of her!—and sighs, “I was… too hasty. I should have just trusted you. I’m sorry too.”

He smiles again. Stupidly bright.

Okoye rolls her eyes, “I suppose we need to tell Shuri the good news.”

Attuma nods and takes the opportunity to nuzzle her with his nose and she snorts at his childish behavior. He doesn’t care. He’s been wanting to do that since—well, since he first fell in love with her at the bridge.

After a brief pause, Okoye clears her throat, licking her lips, “But we don’t need to tell her now…”

“Oh?”

“It’s pretty late,” She gives him a sly wink, her hands reaching downward, “We can just let her know in the morning after we do some more… testing?”

Attuma grins as he feels her tugs on him once more, but this time towards her bedroom door.

#attoye #okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #attuma #okoye #blank panther #fanfic #attoye week #midnightoily fics

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12daysofattoye · 2 years ago

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12 Days of Attoye Christmas Fic! 🫶🏽

Runaway Gingerbread by Queen_Oval on AO3

Summary: Kid! Riri Williams, Mama! Okoye, Christmas Fluff 😭😭 (Attuma the dad who stepped up 🥹💖)

100/10!! So cute and thank you Queen Oval for writing it! 🍪🥛👀❤️

#attuma x okoye #attoye #okoye x attuma #black panther #marvel #attuma #okoye #black panther wakanda forever #x black reader #black women

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umber-cinders · 1 year ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

I was tagged by the lovely @megamindsecretlair 🤗💖✨

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Since I last did this, I've up my total of works from four to six so I'm happy about that 😄

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

From 182,483 words last time, to 287,008 right now in June 2024 😁

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I'm hoping to add more to my collection but right now this is it lol

1. Black Panther 2. Secret Invasion 3. Bright (2017)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I only have four fics up and one of them is brand new so 😅

Winter Moon

Mount Jabari

Incubus

If The Shoe Fits

Bonds In Blue

In that order. You can find a link to my fics for both tumblr and Ao3 here

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

HELL 👏🏾YES👏🏾 I love talking to the people reading my stuff and want them to know that their comments are appreciated and often keep me motivated to write more 😁Love you guys! 💕

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm, I guess that would be If The Shoe Fits. There's a planned part two that might negate this answer though.

(This answer still stands so far)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Mount Jabari 🤣Reader was very happy at the end of that fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I did on Winter Moon but I don't particularly care about the opinions of someone whose intentions are to be intentionally dismissive and negative so the comments the person received in return were likely not what they had wanted 💀

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Absolutely. And I'm not sure what the categories are, but I'd describe my smut as detailed and nasty 😈

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nah, never did a crossover and not really a fan of them. However when I was still really young there was a gigantic, kind of OOC crossover fic with a bunch of popular anime from the 90s/2000s called Otherworld and I used to read that like it was the bible. It inspired me to do my own first fanfics. There were like 9 books to that story and multiple oneshots and short stories that tied the characters together and everything.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware... and anyone who tries it...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not publicly, but I have gotten a comment that someone loves my story so much that they translate every chapter so that they could read it properly and it made me so happy 😭❤💕

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! But I do love giving other authors ideas and vice versa. I think it helps people think outside the box when they brainstorm with friends.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I'm going to say Attoye from Black Panther for now? I was never that big of a "shipping" person in fandoms but I definitely enjoy Attoye enough to say I ship them. I also like Nashuri and Killmora.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Nothing atm. I tend to work on stories in order of inspiration and importance. I don't publish things I'm not willing to commit time to at some point.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I write very descriptively and that it can paint a vivid picture of scenarios and characters, so I'll go with that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fluff and filler. I don't dislike fluff completely but I tend to write it as realistically as possible because trying to imagine people being that super ooey gooey makes me wanna gag and cringe lmfao

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I do it only when necessary for the simple fact that having to provide translations for entire scenes of dialogue gets tiresome very quickly.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Inuyasha 🐶✨

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is hard because I love all my fics and have several multi chapter stories that I consider my babies. For now I will go with Winter Moon or Bond In Blue since they are published.

Tagging anyone who hasn't done this yet because I don't know who has and hasn't 💖💗💕✨

#writer games #tumblr game

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chottopoco · 2 years ago

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@attoye-week - Day 3 - Fluff/Comedy

growing pains

The apartment's too small, the new baby is coming any day now, her parents are sleeping on the couch and if they have to look at one more house, they just might lose it. Growth spurts are never easy.

#attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #attoye #attuma #okoye #attuma of talokan #fanfic #attoye week

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theattoyearchive · 2 years ago

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Baby One More Time-bitisgabonica

AO3

Attoye Week 2023. Day 3: Fluff/Comedy

Yass!!! Thank you for your submission! 💙💙💙

#attuma x okoye #attoye week #okoye x attuma #attuma #okoye #attoye #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #to read

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pantherandtheseagod · 2 years ago

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#fanfiction #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #mcu namor #princess shuri #seaprincess

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ao3feed-wandamaximoff · 1 year ago

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Happily...? ever after

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/d1OFxmj by bitisgabonica A sequel to my previous Attoye fic One Night Only. Because I loved that story that much. Words: 12963, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Black Panther (Marvel Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Attuma of Talokan (Marvel), Okoye (Marvel), Nakia (Black Panther), Aneka of the Dora Milaje (Marvel), T'Challa (Marvel), Toussaint | T'Challa (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Shuri (Marvel), Namor of Talokan (Marvel), Namora of Talokan (Marvel), Erik Killmonger, Ramonda (Marvel), W'Kabi (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff Relationships: Attuma of Talokan/Okoye (Marvel) Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Infertility, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/d1OFxmj

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #(your tags here)

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cyb3rscoups · 2 years ago

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Baby daddy Chronicles (1)

A/N: Here is the link to the full collection

Baby Daddy Attuma Chronicles on Ao3

“So,” Attuma popped a fry in his mouth and leaned into the table. His twins giggled, mimicking his motions and leaning in with him.

In a hushed tone, he asked. “What’s new in mommy’s life? Hm?”

The girls giggled again, looking between each other before going back to their dad. “We think she has a boyfriend.”

Attuma choked, hacking up a fit of coughs at the information. His girls laughed heartily as their father was on the verge of death. “Boyfriend?!” He said once his throat was clear. “Who is he?”

“Mmm. She told us to call him Mr. W’Kabi.”

“Who the f-“ The man caught his words as he realized where he was and who he was talking to. “What does he do while he’s there hm? Do mommy and him talk a lot?”

“No daddy. They kiss a lot and I don’t like him.”

“Yeah me neither. When are you coming back daddy?”

“Soon, baby. Real soon.”

————

It took him about half an hour to finish eating with his kids and shove them off to his mom’s house while he took a trip to the house he once called his own.

A navy blue hellcat was parked pretty in the driveway.

“Mother fucker.” Attuma grumbled as he marched across the yard and pounded on the door. “Okoye!”

He didn’t let up on the wood, only growing rougher when she took longer to answer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Where are my kids?!” Our kids, he thought. But her nagging was ignored as he looked into the house.

“Where is he?”

“You have no right to know who’s here.”

“You got that man around our children and in our house. It’s my right as much as yours.”

As he took a breath, he took in what she was wearing, or rather not wearing. Just a silk robe, wrapped around her frame and leaving nothing to imagination. It made his blood boil.

“Oh so you hand the kids over so you can fuck him huh.”

“Fuck you Attuma!”

“I wish you would.” He stepped forward, welcoming himself through the threshold.

“Back the hell up.”

“I don’t see you making a move.” Attuma shrugged as they stood with no space between their bodies. His was hot, she could feel the heat radiating off of him as she resisted the urge to touch him.

The tension was thick as Attuma towered over her and Okoye failed to keep herself composed. Damn him for having such an affect on her. “Put your clothes on, kick him out, let me in.”

“This is over Attuma.”

“Is it? Haven’t noticed.” His arm snaked around her waist as she shivered. “Come back to me. I’m sorry.”

“Attuma-“

The creaking of the steps caused the hair on her neck to stand and suddenly she was pushing him as far as her strength would allow.

Before Attuma could invade her space again, W’Kabi came down the stairs. He was similarly bare, just a pair of jeans over his hips.

“Who’s this?” He questioned, looking between Attuma and Okoye.

“This is my ex. Father of the twins. He was just letting me know how they’ve been.” She lied through her teeth and nudged Attuma to go along with it.

“You couldn’t have called?” W’Kabi crossed his arms, giving Attuma the dirtiest look he could muster.

Attuma laughed, doubling over as he did it. He laughed for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke.

“This jackass? Really baby. Come on. If you’re gonna try to replace me at least do it with someone who could actually compete.”

“Get out, Attuma.” Okoye pushed him through the door slamming it shut behind him.

The man chuckled all the way back to his truck and waited there. It only took a minute before W’Kabi was following, getting into his car and driving away.

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

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mickimomo · 2 years ago

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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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imthataliensuperstar · 3 years ago

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okoye running her fingers through attuma’s hair while he’s sleeping

#attuma #wakanda forever #attuma x you #black panther wakanda forever #attuma x reader #attuma imagine #attuma smut #attuma x okoye #alex livinalli #attoye #okoye #okoye x reader #danai gurira #general okoye #talokan #attuma of talokan #attuma thirst post #mcu fluff #marvel

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pilesofpillows · 2 years ago

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Stars Aglow Ch. 1 || Okoye x Attuma

A Sea of Stars ~ Part 3 of 3

Summary: It's finally time... Okoye & Attuma are going to be parents

Warnings: Fluff, Family Feels, Pregnancy, Childbirth

Tags: @theeblackmedusa @xblackreader @iccedays @mamajankyy @ariyannah @sphinx81 @karimk2 @xenokattz

A/N: This took too long to write and it had to be split into two parts... Part 1 is just some family feels and then Part 2 will welcome the babies.

A Sea of Stars:

Part I - Stars Within

Part II - Stars Abound

Okoye shifted against Attuma, trying to gain a bit more comfort in the hammock strung across their patio. At nearly 34 weeks pregnant, no position was truly comfortable for long, but she didn’t want to move. Post-nap cuddling had become an essential part of their routine at some indeterminate point during her pregnancy, and she wouldn’t get up unless absolutely necessary. Attuma lay behind her, the big spoon to her little, sheltering her in his broad frame. He had one strong arm slung across her waist, hand resting low on her protruding belly, the other bent at the elbow, acting as a pillow for her head.

She sighed deeply, cozy and content in the evening breeze, and pressed her head back into his chest. Her hand came to rest on her upper left side, pushing gently on the small foot that had taken its daily residence between her ribs.

“Molo, mncinane. [Hello, little one.].” she whispered, rubbing small circles over her ribcage. Her other children moved within her, a swift kick causing her to grimace and groan quietly.

“Are you well, in yakunaj?” Attuma asked, sitting up slightly.

“Mhm. Just one of your stars giving their daily hello,” Okoye replied, placing her hand atop his. She interlocked their fingers and squeezed gently to reassure him.

Attuma worried more than a mother duck as her time came closer. It was sweet, if a little stifling. But she wasn’t going to complain. Carrying three children was no simple feat, but Attuma’s steadfast love and attentive care made even the hardest days feel light.

He moved their hands back up to her side, murmuring his own greeting. A reciprocal push against his palm and the flutter of movement across her abdomen made her laugh as their children responded enthusiastically to the sound of their father’s rumbling timber. She could feel Attuma’s proud smile, and her heart swelled with affection for the Talokanil general. Okoye could easily admit to loving these little moments most of all. Bast knew there weren’t enough words to properly articulate how deep her love ran, but she tried to express it anyway.

She pressed a kiss to the cerulean forearm beneath her head. “I love you,” she whispered against his warm skin.

Attuma pressed a long kiss to the top of her head, returning the sentiment in the same hushed whisper. He slid their entwined hands across her bump, rubbing wide circles, and began humming a quiet lullaby. The tune was familiar by now, taught to him by his mother, and he used it to soothe the excited flutters of their little stars. His dulcet notes, combined with the gentle sway of their hammock, nearly lulled her into another nap. They lay in their little bubble of peace, basking in the warmth of the setting sun, until her kimoyo beads chimed, alerting her to the hour.

Okoye untwined her and Attuma’s fingers, pressing a bead to turn off the quiet alarm. Attuma wrapped both arms around her, cradling her gently as he sat them up. He pulled her onto his lap and swung his legs to the ground in one fluid motion that made her more than a bit jealous of his grace. At this stage in her pregnancy, she had all the finesse of a baby hippo.

“Would you like to go for another walk before dinner, in K’iino’?” Attuma asked, shifting her forward to massage the ever-present ache in her lower back.

Okoye bit back a moan, bracing her hands on her knees as his thumbs began working firm circles on the strained muscles. There truly were not enough words to express her gratitude to every deity for this man. Leaning back into the massage, Okoye made a disaffected noise at the question. She was not interested in going on another walk before dinner. They would, of course, but she was decidedly unenthused at the prospect.

Beautiful as this pregnancy had been, she could say with firm resolution that she was done. It was time for her children to make their way into the world. Sooner rather than later, if she was being honest. Still, Okoye had reservations about medically inducing, so her doctor gave them a list of things that would hopefully encourage her body to begin the process naturally.

They tried everything. Massages, sex, acupressure, exercise, more sex, different foods and teas, and even nipple stimulation, which, invariably, led to more sex. She wasn’t complaining, of course. Attuma certainly wasn’t inconvenienced by their efforts. But Okoye was tired. She needed these babies out.

Everything and everyone was ready for the trio’s arrival.

The nursery was complete, an easy mix of Wakandan and Talokanil cultures with enough clothes and gifts Okoye was sure her children wouldn’t actually be able to use. The go-bag Ayo bought for them had been by the front door for the last three weeks, packed with color-coordinated outfits sewn by, Yoltzin, Attuma’s mother, and the matching blankets her mother had woven and embroidered. Nakia and Toussaint had returned to Wakanda last month, and Shuri had designed and built a hi-tech birthing chamber at the palace, retrofitted with every gadget and monitor she could pack in. The princess had also created an entire AI protocol to alert everyone in their family when her time came, Attuma’s family included. Not that it was necessary. Namora and Yoltzin called nightly, determined not to miss a single moment of her pregnancy.

They were all waiting on the babies. And Okoye was doing everything in her power to get them out - which included going on two or three short walks every day, per Dr. Langeni’s orders.

“Just along the riverbank, yeah?” Okoye said, groaning loudly when he hit a particularly sore knot, her eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not interested in receiving more parenting advice today.” The aunties at the marketplace were always ready with a litany of things she should and should not be doing, stopping her every few meters to offer unsolicited advice. Okoye blinked and swung her legs out, catching sight of her swollen ankles. She sighed, “And I don’t want to wear shoes.”

Attuma huffed a laugh and effortlessly shifted her into a bridal hold, standing so he could set her on her feet. “Whatever you desire, in K’iino’.”

He held Okoye’s waist, allowing her to steady herself against his solid frame. In another life, her pride would’ve been bruised at the amount of help she required these days. But being with Attuma was different. He never made her feel less than for needing him, and Okoye trusted him to bolster her weak places and shield her vulnerabilities. Even with all the history she and W’Kabi shared, things had never come this simply. There was always a fight to be had or a compromise to be negotiated. Her relationship with Attuma had an ease she’d never experienced before, and even when she didn’t need his help, she wanted it.

Here, with him, there was no bruised pride or wounded egos to be had. Only love, deep and abiding.

She tilted her head up to kiss him gently, thanking him, and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers in the same manner as their souls. “Come on, Indoda Krebe. Let’s see if we can convince your pups to make an appearance today.”

~~~

They returned from their walk to find a delicious aroma filling the house and her mother bustling about in their kitchen, not an uncommon sight these past few months. She had temporarily moved from her home at the Border into an apartment in Birnin Zana, a quick five-minute train ride from Okoye’s own, and had insisted on coming over at least three times a week to help. Her “help” mostly meant cooking too much food and stuffing the triplets’ nursery with more toys and clothes than three babies needed, but Okoye appreciated her all the same. They’d invited her to stay in the house with them, of course; Okoye had two extra bedrooms aside from her own and the nursery, but her mother insisted that she needed her own space. Okoye suspected it was to hide whatever unnecessary purchases she made in the name of spoiling her yet-unborn grandchildren.

“Hi, umama,” she called, drying her feet on the mat by her kitchen door. Attuma followed in after her, activating the overhead sonic dryer to avoid getting water on the floors after his dip in the river.

“Hello, intombi, unyana,” her mother smiled from behind the island.

Okoye waddled over, greeting her mother with a kiss on the cheek, resting her head on her shoulder. She inhaled deeply, peering down at the covered pot simmering on the stove. “Smells good; what’s for dinner?”

Her mother chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Oxtails.”

Okoye’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, does it have-”

“Cassava? Ewe kunjal [Yes, of course], ntombi,” she replied with a smirk. “I wouldn’t dare deprive you of your beloved starch.”

Behind them, Attuma laughed. “Thank Chaac for your forethought, Mama. I fear K’iino’ wouldn’t survive a day without her medicinal potatoes.”

Okoye turned and cut her eyes at him. “Keep it up, and you can sleep on the couch, krebe.” She walked around her mother to the fridge, opening it to grab two water bottles.” I have a body pillow that does everything you can,” she snarked, holding one out to him.

“I doubt that, in yakunaj,” he retorted, snagging her wrist instead of the bottle. Tugging her into his arms, he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. “In wojel ba’ax ma’ je’el chup teech jach ma’alob bey in polla. [I know it cannot fill you as well as my cock.].”

“Yeka!” she hissed through grit teeth, swatting his arm.

He chortled and kissed her wrist, cracking open his water bottle and swapping with her. Okoye rolled her eyes and took the bottle, sipping the cold water slowly. She ambled over to the dinner table, easing down, and asked her mother when the food would be ready.

“If you two can manage to keep your hands off of each other, we can sit for dinner in 10 minutes,” she responded, unimpressed by their antics.

Attuma slid next to her mother and wrapped an arm around her. “Ndixolele [Forgive me], Mama,” he said, fixing her with his most charming smile, dimples on full display. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Her mother was no more immune to his charm than Okoye was, and she pinched his dimpled cheek with a grin, instructing him to set the table for six. It seemed they were expecting company, and she had a good idea of who would be in attendance. The timely chime of the doorbell, followed by the sound of shuffling feet in her foyer, confirmed her thoughts.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” Nakia’s voice called loudly from the entryway.

The quick patter of little feet announced her nephew’s arrival, and Toussaint rushed down the hall before his mother. He skid to a stop at Okoye’s knees. “Umakazi!” he cried excitedly, throwing his arms around her neck.

“Oh!” Okoye beamed, wrapping the young boy in her arms as much as possible. “Molo, intsini yam encinci! [Hello, my little laugh!].”

Toussaint released her neck and stood between her legs, both hands on her belly. “Hello, babies,” he greeted softly. His gap-toothed grin lit up his face, reminding Okoye of a young T’Challa greeting Shuri the same way while the Queen was pregnant.

Nakia sauntered into view, dropping two bags on the sofa out of her sight before coming over to hug her quickly, ignoring the suspicious look Okoye shot her way. She floated into the kitchen, greeting her mother and Attuma in turn, and grabbed plates to help set the table. Toussaint wiggled out of her arms and climbed on the chair next to her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce on her beloved. As his mother and uncle rounded the kitchen island, her nephew leaped from the chair.

“Uncle ‘Tuna!” The boy shouted, all giggles as Attuma caught him deftly in one arm, shifting the basket of injera bread to the other.

“Hello, chan báalam [little jaguar],” he greeted warmly, pressing his forehead against Toussaint’s.

Attuma set the bread basket on the table and took Toussaint back into the kitchen to greet her mother, who showered him with kisses just as she used to with T’Challa. Her heart twinged at the sound of his young voice calling her “umakhulu!” knowing he would never truly know his grandparents. Okoye blinked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. T’Challa had them, and that would be enough.

“So,” Okoye said, clearing her throat, “how many bibs did you buy today? Or is it onesies this time?” She smiled at Nakia, who finished laying out their flatware.

Nakia stopped short and opened her mouth to deny any such bib purchases but was stopped short by the sound of the doorbell again.

“You’d better still be pregnant, sisi!” Shuri’s voice rang as she glided into the house.

“I am still very much pregnant, Shuri,” Okoye replied, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Good.” The lanky woman-child slung her arms over Okoye’s shoulders, resting her chin on her head. “I’m upgrading the filtration and drainage systems of the Amnio tonight, so my nieces need to stay put.”

Attuma set Toussaint down and fixed Shuri with a challenging smirk. “Your nephews will come in Ix Chel’s time. But I would suggest that you cease making updates to your Amnio. In K’iino’s time is almost upon us.”

“Auntie’s gonna have the babies soon?” Toussaint asked, staring up at Attuma.

“Yes, chan báalam. If not this week, then the next. You will soon have cousins.”

The boy smiled, giddy at the prospect. T’Challa didn’t quite understand that the babies wouldn’t be able to play for a while, but his excitement was a delight.

Her mother came out of the kitchen, setting the pot of oxtails on the table with a wide smile amid the ongoing chatter. Okoye mirrored her expression as she gazed around the table at her family. They were missing a few members, but this was her family. Her eyes locked with Attuma’s, and he smiled softly at her.

Their family.

She couldn’t wait to welcome their children into it.

Ch. 2 • Ch. 3

#attoye #attuma x okoye #okoye x attuma #okoye x attuma fanfiction #fluffy fluff #family feels #attuma loves his wife #okoye loves her husband #they ain't even married #hammock naps are lit #kioni is so very sick of them #pilesofpillows #a sea of stars

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