#attoyesmut

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: Preparation? More Like Distraction Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Summary: Attuma gives Okoye something to help her through a stressful meeting. Author’s Note: Here’s my meager offering to the Attoye smutfest. Also this is my 10th Attoye story. Yay to me! Also also, I’m not sure if I like how this flows... Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: 1981

Okoye’s cheeks burned, hidden by her dark complexion as she squirmed in her seat in the throne room. She’d been nervous about the meeting, Shuri having requested her attendance as she advocated for the Midnight Angels to be made a subdivision of the Dora Milaje, but had felt more anxious about her return to this room. This place where she’d lost the title for which she’d dedicated her life and where she’d watched, helpless, as the Queen Mother crossed over to the ancestral plane.

The wide-open space haunted her dreams, its presence filled with images of broken glass and upturned furniture as bodies floated face down in pools of water intermeshed with visions of the elders—their eyes hard and glowing with judgement—descending upon her and ripping the clothes and flesh from her body, leaving her a bloodied stripped mess on the ground.

In actuality, anxious was an understatement. She’d been petrified—frozen and unmoving, except for the rise and fall of her chest, in the hall that led to the throne room.

This was how Attuma had found her. Gasping for air, near hyperventilating as she’d pressed one hand to her chest and the other to the wall, attempting to regain her equilibrium. He’d taken one look at her then pulled her away, gently taking her about the shoulders before steering her to a secluded alcove on a lower level of the palace. The hallway had been clear, thankfully, but Okoye had appreciated the added privacy of their new location.

“Breathe, my love.” Attuma had encouraged, placing her hands on his chest and exaggerating his own breathing as a guide. He’d stared intently into her eyes, willing her to calm.

And she’d had after a time, her pants becoming deep, slow-paced breaths that had enabled her body to receive the oxygen it needed.

“Thank you,” she’d said, buoyed by his support.

“You are welcome,” his reply had been accompanied by the press of his lips to her forehead, “but there is no need to thank me for it is my duty as your mate.” His arms had engulfed her, infusing her with his warmth.

Okoye had relaxed farther and had felt like herself for the first time that morning.

“Had you not run from our bed and home so early this morning, I could have properly aided you in preparing for this meeting.” He’d admonished as his hands rubbed up and down along her back, each pass moving dangerously closer to her behind. He’d been disappointed when he’d woken up to her side of the bed empty.

Disappointed, but truly not surprised as Okoye had tossed and turned all the previous night. Even his song, which usually soothed whatever horrors plagued her slumber, hadn’t been enough to grant her a restful sleep. Her movements and muttering had disturbed him—Attuma worrying over her and offering what comfort he could until his exhaustion had finally overcome him, pushing him into the coma-like state that had allowed her to slip from their home with him unaware.

“How so?” She’d asked as she’d lifted from his chest, her head tilted and eyebrows scrunched in question.

The heated glance she’d received in return before his ogling eyes had moved to what could be seen of her cleavage, from the V-neck of her tunic, was all the answer she’d needed.

“How exactly would that have prepared me?” She would’ve removed her hands from his chest to place on her hips, but his body had blocked the way.

“Perhaps distract is the better term. Let me show you, my love.” His voice had been seductive, whispered in her ear as he’d begun to pepper kisses along her neck. His hands had finished their descent to her backside and had palmed the globes, squeezing then swatting when she’d made a noise of protest.

“We can’t do this here.” Her objection had been weak, her resolve crumbling in the face of his talented mouth and hands.

“We can, if we are quick and quiet.” That declared, he’d pulled up the bottom of her elongated top and forced a hand passed the waistband of her tights. His other hand had remained planted on her ass, lifting her from the floor as he’d luxuriated in the firm muscles that tantalized him whenever he watched her walk away from him.

Had Okoye the presence of mind, she would’ve challenged that “quick” and “quiet” were words that could never be attributed to their sex life. As it was, she’d simply wrapped her legs around his waist as he’d pressed her upper body into the wall behind them. His strength was such that he could easily balance and support her weight with the use of one arm.

Breaching the barrier of her panties, Attuma had been met by her moisture. It’d been pleasant but not enough for his needs. He’d kissed her deeply, both to silence her and further her arousal as he’d stroked her clitoris after gathering her slick on his fingertips to ease his way. As her essence had begun to flow more freely, he’d pushed two fingers inside her, rubbing along her silken walls.

Their paired groans had been muffled by the press of their lips, Okoye stroking Attuma’s tongue with her own as she’d fisted the front of his cloak. She’d met the movement of his hand, the palm of which felt divine as it pressed into her clit.

Biting his bottom lip and tugging, she’d pulled her head away to demand, “Give me your cock.” The impropriety of their chosen location had completely left her mind, her baser desires taking the lead.

Attuma had smirked, “But I was under the impression that we could not do this here.” He’d added a third finger to his ministrations, taking pleasure in the sound of her racing heartbeat and the rapturous expression on her face: her eyes fluttering as her head tipped back and her forehead creased. She’d forced her mouth closed, attempting to trap the moans that’d tried to claw their way out of her throat.

Gaining a semblance of control, Okoye had moved back to glare at him but hadn’t bothered with words, choosing instead to respond with action. She’d dug her heels into the back of his pants and had used them, in addition to her hand, to push down his bottoms, freeing his dick. Attuma had always gone with as little clothing as possible and was appropriate for the occasion, oftentimes electing to go without underwear. His default of going commando had regularly worked in her favor.

He'd retaliated, removing his hand from her pussy to rip the seam at the center of her tights, revealing the crotch of her panties. The gusset was soaked through, her arousal evident and more pungent in the air. He’d taken a deep breath, closing his eyes in appreciation.

Slapping his shoulder, the glare on Okoye’s face had hardened and been accompanied by a frown. She’d been displeased by her ruined tights but hadn’t lingered on that, taking it upon herself to move the fabric of her underwear to the side.

Attuma had wanted to tease, looking to prolong their lovemaking despite the time constraint and public location, but had found himself incapable when she’d taken his cock in hand and pulled him toward her entrance. The heels of her shoes had pushed into his backside, urging him closer.

He’d taken over quickly by thrusting inside her fully, pausing briefly to let her adjust. She hadn’t needed this consideration as her hips immediately nudged against him, her pussy clenching his dick in encouragement.

“Please move,” she’d pleaded, forgoing their usual game of dominance to get what she’d wanted: his cock impaling her over and over until she came, throbbing and dripping onto his clothes. She’d wanted to ruin his pants like he’d done hers and make it so he would have to return to their home to change, less the city would see the evidence of her orgasm staining and scenting the material.

Attuma had granted her plea, drawing his hips back only to drive himself back into her, his pelvis firm against her clitoris with each stroke. Her walls had held him tight, milking his cock intently. He’d had to kiss her again to soften her cries, biting at then sucking her lips while he’d fought back his own sounds of pleasure.

His free hand, not supporting her weight via her ass, had moved to her neck, gripping the satin soft column as the force of his thrusts had increased. He’d felt her walls tightening around him, pulsing and wet as her cream coated his skin, and had known she was close. He’d added more pressure to her throat, stiffening his hold and moving his head back to gaze at her, again taking in her beauty and the ecstasy written across her face. The slight asphyxiation had brought another element of danger to their risqué coupling.

Okoye had rewarded his efforts when she’d abruptly came a moment later, squirting as she’d grasped the arm holding her neck in both hands. She’d bitten her lip so hard, that she’d drawn blood, in order to quiet her screams. Attuma licked at the red liquid before he followed after her, forcing his tongue into her mouth to mute his own groans of completion. He’d forced his grip to slacken as his hips had faltered, his come filling her womb.

Recovering, they’d taken a minute to savor each other prior to returning to the reality of their situation. They’d been lucky not to get caught, the security in the palace heightened with the anticipated presence of all the Wakandan elders. Unwillingly, they’d untangled from one another, sharing a series of short kisses as they had righted their clothing.

Okoye had made to leave, caressing Attuma’s face then saying, “I have to go clean up before going to the throne room. I’ll see you later.”

He’d stopped her with an arm snaked around her waist.

“Don’t you dare wash away what I have left inside you. I want you to sit through that meeting with my seed dripping from your cunt so that you will feel me with you even though I will not be there.”

She would’ve found his words romantic if what he’d been asking of her hadn’t been so vulgar. Before she’d been able to respond, her Kimoyo Beads had rung with an incoming call from Shuri. Okoye had pulled away from Attuma, tugging at her tunic. She’d been grateful that the garment was midthigh and would cover her ripped tights. Taking the call, Okoye had left, nodding her head quickly at Attuma and blowing the man a kiss before turning a corner that stole her from his sight.

Now sat in the throne room, Okoye’s thoughts were dominated by all that her husband had done to her body. She could see the merit of his so-called preparation. It had certainly eased her distressful thoughts and calmed her tense muscles. But maybe it had worked too well for she was unable to concentrate on all that was happening around her—Shuri and the elders going back and forth in what was sure to be a stormy discussion, with the elders, as always, resistant to change. Her body was heated and flush from the feel of Attuma’s semen gushing out of her and seeping into her panties.

The wants of the council paled into insignificance when compared to Attuma’s sexual prowess, which had turned her brain to mush, unwilling to consider anything except for how she would repay him for his thorough distraction. He’d been a caring and supportive husband, deserving of the most intimate of kisses. It had been a while since she’d gone down on her knees for him and, today, she planned to remedy that, worshipping his manhood until he spilled and covered her face and breasts in reward.

[mamajanky]

I need some cat treats or sumn to stop all this purring I hear

An Angel, Drowned (Excerpt) || Namor x Okoye x Attuma

A/N: This is from a fic I’m currently working on, it was supposed to be a short filthy one-shot, but it’s turned into a multi-chaptered beast of equal parts plot and p0rn.

A/N 2: I’m sorry, don’t come at me for this…

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Minors DNI, Fingering, You’ve Been Warned

Word Count: 3k 😅

Tags: @sphinx81 @karimk2 @mickimomo @formyloveoflove @theeblackmedusa @xblackreader

Okoye’s Dress, for reference purposes:

Namor strode down the hallway after his ambassador. She was stubborn, this much was true, but he could tell his words had affected her. He was done hiding. Okoye would be his, theirs.

He watched her turn a corner in the Royal Palace, the train of her blue dress flowing like a river behind her.

Namor rounded the corner, waiting until they neared the end of the dimly lit corridor before closing the distance between them and calling out to her.

“Ambassador.”

Okoye tensed at the sound of his voice and spun around, eyes aflame. “Why did you follow me?”

Her tone was sharp as the blade Attuma had gifted her, her question pointed as her spear. It seemed she wanted to do battle today. Namor smiled but didn’t answer her.

“Why did you leave?”

“Because I needed air,” she snapped. “Which I am not getting with you following me.”

“Are you suddenly unable to breathe around me, Okoye?” He asked, purposely baiting her.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at his implication. She stepped closer to him, and his gaze dropped to the smooth brown skin of her leg, now fully on display. Heated eyes raked up her alluring figure, taking in every dip and curve of her body. Her breasts were pushed tightly together by her corset, enticing him as Okoye’s chest heaved. How Attuma managed to keep his hands off her during dinner, he did not know. From the faint scent of the arousal staining her thighs, perhaps he hadn’t.

“My eyes are up here!” she hissed, pushing his chin up with two fingers and breaking his leer. He was met with a venomous glare, further stirring his lust. “And I assure you, your only effect on my ability to breathe is my increased lung capacity as I fight the urge to strangle you.”

Namor arched his brow at her threat, wondering if she would be this ferocious when his cock was in her.

“Now, Ambassador, such threats are not very diplomatic of you,” he tsked, his left hand shooting up to grasp her wrist, delighting in her sharp gasp. She twisted and pulled to escape his hold, but he only smirked and tightened his grip.

“That was not a threat. A threat would be me informing you that if you do not release me, I will cut you into bite-sized pieces and cook you in Miss William's air-fryer,” she retorted, still attempting to free herself of him.

Namor chuckled and tugged her closer; his smirk widened as she stumbled slightly. His right hand steadied her, firm pressure on her waist. His thumb stroked the silky skin of her wrist, bringing her arm to his mouth. Okoye’s breath hitched as he pressed a whisper of a kiss to her fluttering pulse. To an outsider, they looked like a couple sharing an intimate dance.

“In diosa, do you not tire of resisting me?” He asked softly, stepping closer so their chests touched. He stared deeply into her eyes, watching her fury melt into arousal. “Such pleasure I could bring you, if only you’d allow it.”

“Why do you insist on pursuing me? What is it you want?” His ambassador asked, her voice a frustrated whisper.

“You,” he answered simply. Okoye’s brow furrowed, but Namor continued on before she could protest. “I had thought my intentions were plain, but perhaps further clarification is necessary.” He stepped closer to her again, pleased when she took a small step back. “I wish to have you: beneath me, astride me, above me. It matters not.” He pressed forward, guiding them backward. “I want my lips stained with your desire, my tongue to forever taste of your essence.”

“Namor-“ she started, but he’d had enough of that name from her lips.

“We’re beyond that, Okoye. Call me by my name.”

“That is-“

“It is not,” he said firmly, tightening his grip on her waist. “I am no longer your enemy, diosa.”

Okoye’s pupils were blown wide. The scent of her arousal was stronger than before, and he could hear her heart as it thundered in her chest. It was intoxicating to have her so close. And yet he wanted more.

He led her in a slow, seductive dance that would only end with her submission. Leaning forward, he placed his lips on her ear, whispering, “Have I not proven myself worthy of your ardor, Okoye?”

Okoye shivered as Namor- no, Ch’ah Toh spoke into her ear. It was so tempting to fall apart in his arms; she knew he’d put her back together. But there were so many reasons that she shouldn’t, reasons that they couldn’t. Reasons that eluded her the moment he placed a tender kiss right below her ear.

“Say my name, in ch’ujuk.”

Another kiss. Featherlight on the corner of her jaw.

He released her wrist, placing it on his shoulder before taking hold of her waist again. The warmth of his hands seeped through the ribbing on her corset.

They were nearing the wall now. She’d ceded so much ground, and yet, there was no loss. Attuma’s earlier words came unbidden to her mind: K’uk’ulkan takes what he wants.

Would he take her?

Most assuredly, if she let him.

Which begged the question: would she allow it?

Yes.

The answer was simple, easy even.

She wanted him.

Whatever this thing was, she wanted it. And if she was being honest with herself, Okoye had wanted it from the moment she’d found his eyes in the mirror while atop Attuma.

There was no question of one or the other.

She wanted them both.

And by Bast, didn’t she deserve it?

The king brought attention back with another kiss right below her jaw.

“Okoye.”

“Ch’ah Toh.” His true name was a whisper on her lips. A soft breath of exaltation against his pointed ear.

He nudged the column of her neck with his nose, the coolness of the jade bar piercing his septum sent a shiver through her.

Her back finally hit the wall, pushing a sigh from her lips. Through the haze of her desire, Okoye noted how warm the wall felt on her open back and shoulders. Nothing like the cool vibranium of the Royal Palace. Large, familiar calloused hands grasped her hips, pulling her back into a warm, solid body.

“Hello, Bah’te.

Okoye gasped, eyes widening as she heard Attuma’s voice rumble in her other ear.

Namor pulled his head from her neck and smiled, his white teeth glinting in the shadows. “Nacom.”

“K’uk’ulkan.”

“Attuma, I-,” Okoye fumbled for an explanation but was silenced by Attuma’s hushed whisper.

“Do you desire this, Okoye? Do you desire us both?”

Okoye blinked dazedly, trying to focus. The heat emanating from their bodies encompassed her, making it difficult to think. One of Attuma’s hands caressed the exposed skin of her hip, leaving her skin ablaze. Namor had returned his mouth to her neck, sucking softly on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Okoye whined softly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin, her brain too foggy to protest.

“We’re going to need an answer, diosa. Do you want this?” Namor asked, pulling his mouth away from her no-doubt bruised skin.

She blew out a deep breath and nodded.

“Verbally, in ch’ujuk. Say it aloud,” he commanded.

Okoye could feel his stare in her soul, and she trembled. Facing down Thanos had taken less courage than this. She swallowed. “I want this… you.” Her voice was hoarse, but her pride refused to let her shy away from the declaration she’d made. “I want both of you.”

The desire thrumming between them rocketed to new heights with her confession. Namor kissed the corner of her mouth, murmuring something unintelligible in Mayan while his hands trailed up her torso, cupping her breasts through her dress. Attuma caressed the length of her uncovered thigh, kneading gently. His fingers danced along the top of her dress’s slit, circling closer and closer to the apex of her heat. Okoye’s hands gripped Namor’s shoulders as her head fell back on Attuma’s chest.

The King of Talokan licked a stripe up her neck before nibbling on her jaw. “All of that resistance earlier, only for you to end up exactly where you belong.” His chuckle was filthy in Okoye’s ear, but his kiss was filthier.

Namor claimed her lips, intent on devouring her whole. His tongue licked into her mouth, drawing her own out and sucking lewdly. Okoye moaned into his mouth, returning his heat with her own fire, her temper sparked by his words. They dueled for dominance, tongues and teeth clashing. His hands gripped her waist, squeezing tightly and pulling her impossibly closer while she dug her nails into his shoulder. He wanted her submission, but she wouldn’t give it so easily.

In the haze of passion, she’d forgotten she was outnumbered.

Attuma wrapped a hand around her throat, holding her in place, forcing her to submit to his king. She could only groan as Namor plundered her mouth, claiming her like a spoil of war.

Their lips parted with a wet smack as he drew back; Okoye opened her eyes to see the smear of her lipstick on his lips in the soft light. Her gaze darted up to his eyes, taking in the way his eyes darkened further. He bared his teeth at her in a facsimile of a grin.

He was going to ruin her.

She was going to let him.

The hand around her throat tightened momentarily, drawing her attention to the warrior behind her. He gripped her jaw, tilting her head up to bring their lips together. Attuma’s kiss was just as fierce as his god’s but edged with a sweetness that spoke to their familiarity. He cupped her face, his soft lips massaging her own, ratcheting up the intensity between them with every pass of his tongue.

“Ah!” Okoye tore her lips from Attuma’s, her soft exclaim ringing in the empty corridor as she felt Namor’s hand cup her bare sex. Her head snapped toward his, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent gasp.

“You’re missing something here, I think, diosa,” the king said with a teasing laugh, dark eyes gleaming with mischief. He ducked his head down to nibble on her collarbone while running a finger through her abundant wetness. “Or do you always wear such exposing attire without undergarments?”

Her eyes slammed shut, and she mewled as he swirled his finger around her clit. Her knees buckled slightly at the hot bolt of pleasure that coursed through her body.

Attuma hummed, low and quiet, running his hand from her jaw, across her chest, and down her body. “Mm, she lost them earlier,” the general husked, moving the bulk of her skirt away, exposing her lower body to the cool air. A fresh wave of arousal washed over her, remembering the heat of Attuma’s mouth on her in a different hallway just before the beginning of the banquet.

“How unfortunate,” Namor breathed, not sounding the least bit sympathetic. He dipped his fingers into her and dragged her arousal up her slit, drawing swift, tight circles around her bundle of nerves.

“D-don’t…” she whimpered, her brows knit tightly, thoroughly overwhelmed at the feeling of his deft fingers stroking her. “Not- not here.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her thighs clenched, trapping Namor’s hand between them.

“No, no, in ch’ujuk,” the king tsked, squeezing her hip. “Open for me.”

Okoye’s legs trembled, but she kept them closed despite Namor’s insistent fingers. He bit her collarbone sharply, repeating the demand. Okoye hissed, the sting of his bite sending a bolt of electric pleasure straight to her core. Still, she held firm, digging her nails into the skin of his shoulders until he hissed in return.

“Bah’te,” Attuma crooned, his hand roving the length of her thigh and hip, coming dangerously close to where his god was toying with her.

“We can’t… not here,” she panted, shaking her head. And yet, her hips rocked against Namor’s hand, chasing the glimpse of ecstasy he’d brought her before.

A firm hand gripped her chin, the king’s, her mind supplied. She’d cataloged the differences in their touch months ago. Okoye looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, a low groan escaping her as he moved his hand in time with her hips.

“Your mouth voices protests your body does not agree with, in ch’ujuk bah’te. Open up for me. Let me give you what you want,” Namor murmured, his lips caressing hers with every word. He didn’t give her the opportunity to answer, capturing her lips in a long, tender kiss.

Attuma leaned down, ghosting kisses along her exposed shoulders and the back of her neck. He seemed content to let his king have his way with her.

Okoye felt her resolve weakening as the world fell away. It was just her and them. Every sense was alight, and her mind was blank save for the burning desire coursing through her.

The King of Talokan finally released her lips, and Okoye couldn’t help the broken whine that left her. He released her chin, trailing his hand down her body, settling at her waist again. Her breaths came short and fast, and her skin felt feverish. Okoye could feel Attuma’s hardness pressing against her backside through the heavy layers of her dress. She arched against him, grinding back with every roll of her hips against Namor’s hand. Attuma groaned and pushed his hand under the skirt of her dress, palming the backside of her thigh. He lifted her leg ever so slightly, shifting her hips up, giving his king just enough room to take her fully.

Namor didn’t waste a moment, plunging two fingers into her wet heat. Okoye tensed and choked on a sob, biting her lip to try and quiet herself. He worked his fingers in and out of her silken walls slowly, allowing her to adjust to the feel of him.

“So very wet for me, in ch’ujuk… You feel incredible.”

Okoye cursed and abandoned any lingering thoughts of resistance as his fingers spread her open. She lifted her leg, hooking it around his waist, trusting Attuma to support her.

“Chaac be blessed, Okoye,” the king growled. He swore softly as her walls clenched around his fingers, molding around him. “How you ever thought to deny me this… your sweet pussy is clinging to me, a vice around my fingers. You were made for me, diosa.”

He trailed off in a jumble of Mayan that Okoye couldn’t understand. It wouldn’t have mattered; his words already reverberated in her ears.

Made for him.

It was hard to deny a truth so blatant as that one. The way his fingers pushed and pulled, filling her harshly as he entered, curling and spreading as he exited. Okoye could feel the rush of her climax racing up her spine and shuddered. She had never felt so close so quickly. A lewd moan left her mouth as Namor sped up his thrusts, dragging his fingers against the sensitive place within her. Her eyes slammed shut as Attuma slid his hand further up the underside of her thigh, cupping her ass. Surely, he wouldn’t-

Her train of thought was cut off as the king hooked his arm under her knee, stepping closer and ground his hips into hers, driving his fingers deeper. He claimed her lips in another heated kiss, swallowing her cries. He pushed another finger into her, hooking them against her front wall, working her clit in rough, fast circles.

Okoye keened into his mouth as her orgasm slammed into her. Her hands scrambled and clawed at his back, nearly ripping the ceremonial robes he wore. Her ears rang, and her mind was clouded as the ecstasy ripped through her. She could hear Attuma’s crooning, coaxing her through it, yet Namor’s movements never stopped. Okoye panted as their lips parted, soft cries leaving her with every thrust and curl of his fingers.

“Tu ka'atéen [Again], in reina,” the king commanded. “Ko'oten wo'osal tu ka'atéen. [Come for me again.]”

Choking out a curse at the feeling of his fingers moving within her, Okoye’s head fell back onto Attuma’s chest, her eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation. Every thrust pushed her closer and closer to the edge of utter bliss.

Attuma squeezed her ass, murmuring praises in her ear. “So pretty and open for us… you’re perfect, in yakunaj.” She whined as he trailed his fingers through the wetness that had run down between her asscheeks. “The next time you are in Talokan, you will take both of us, Bah’te.” His voice was husky with lust, yet his tone was matter-of-fact. “First, Aj K’uk’ulkan will split you open with his cock.” He spread her just enough to circle her puckered hole. “He’s going to fuck your sweet cunt until you scream for him, diosa.” Okoye let out a garbled moan of surprise but couldn’t find the words to stop him. “Then, after he has wrung every bit of pleasure from your body,” He pressed the tip of his thick finger into her ass, pushing slowly until he was knuckle deep, “I’m going to fill you… right. here.”

Okoye’s vision went white, the combined feeling of them sending her careening over the edge. Her back arched taut, her mouth in a silent scream as she shuddered.

Namor and Attuma fucked her through it, their fingers slowing gradually, easing her down.

Okoye slumped back against Attuma, chest heaving and legs trembling. Attuma dropped her dress and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her up. He withdrew from her body slowly, hushing her whimpers. Namor leaned in, pressing sweet kisses against her breathless lips, massaging her thigh as he lowered her leg.

“You’re perfect, k ch’ujuk diosa… so perfect.” The king pulled his fingers from her slowly, and Okoye let out a quiet cry at the emptiness she now felt.

She watched through half-lidded eyes as Namor brought the fingers stained with her juices to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Just as sweet as I imagined,” the King of Talokan whispered, more pleased than the cat who’d caught the canary.

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: Talking Her Through Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Summary: An inexperienced Okoye is apprehensive about having sex with Attuma after seeing what he's packing. Author’s Note: I borrowed @sphinx81′s headcanon about the Talokanil’s rebreathers only being needed over their gills. They’re able to go without the rebreather over their mouths as long as everything stays moist.  Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: 2656

Attuma had an enormous cock. It wasn’t something he felt the need to brag about, due to his many other attributes that brought him confidence in his manhood, but it was a point of pride when it came to his sexual partners. The many Talokanil women he had bedded had been pleased but not surprised by his endowments. They’d looked at him, grinned and then enthusiastically climbed on for a ride.

He'd expected much of the same from Okoye and had more than looked forward to it after months of longing on his part. He’d assumed that there couldn’t have been any more differences in their physiologies, apart from his gills and the different hues of their skin, but, based on her reaction to the removal of his pants, his assumption must have been gravely mistaken.

They’d been engaging in foreplay, kissing as their hands explored the other’s body. He’d felt her lush, bountiful breasts and, after making quick work of removing her shirt, had sucked and pinched at her protruding nipples. She’d also felt along his chest, squeezing his pecs and biting at the muscles when he’d lost the article of clothing as well.

He’d begun making his way to the waistband of her tights, ready to caress the other velvety soft (and hopefully moist) areas of her body when she stayed his hand.

“No, you first,” she said, gesturing to his sweatpants with her free hand

He moved away from her to stand from the low-slung couch and rid himself of the billowing trousers he’d come to appreciate while spending time in Wakanda. The band of the sweatpants had just pushed past his member, freeing his erect penis for her eyes, when he lifted his head to gaze at her.

Instead of the expression of lust and glee he’d expected, the woman he was coming to love stared at him in wide-eyed apprehension. Her hand had risen to her throat and she backed away from him, moving deeper in to the couch.

“Attuma, that isn’t going to fit inside me,” she declared. Her previously opened legs fell shut as her body begun to cool from its aroused state.

Okoye hated to admit it, but she didn’t have much in the way of sexual experience. She’d only ever been with her ex-husband, after their arranged marriage, and prior to that had dedicated her life to becoming a Dora Milaje. In her younger years, she’d made no time for flirting, dating and relationships. While the other Dora recruits socialized to form romantic attachments, she’d been training to improve her agility and strength, and perfect her ability with the spear. It had helped her achieve her life goal of becoming General of the Dora Milaje earlier than even she’d anticipated but had left her little in the way of experience.

So, no one could blame her for her reaction when confronted with the monster in Attuma’s pants. She’d seen a penis before, obviously, but this one was almost twice the size of her ex-husband, who’d, at times, felt like too tight a fit during their coupling.

Attuma froze, unsure if he should laugh or take offense at the fright on Okoye’s face. (As if he’d do anything to hurt her now that he knew her.) She seemed genuinely distressed, though, so he chose to comfort her. Returning his pants to their previous position, he sat beside her on the couch.

“Are the men on the surface not usually as big?” He asked gently as he took her hand in his. She tensed but relented as he pulled her into a hug on his lap. He angled her away from his penis, which hadn’t softened in the least despite her reaction. It remained erect simply because of her near presence.

Okoye sighed in his embrace and hid her face in his chest. She was embarrassed but momentarily comforted by his warmth.

“I’ve only ever been with my ex-husband. I don’t have a lot of experience with this.” Her voice was soft and lacked its usual confidence. She hated being vulnerable and resented the feelings of inadequacy and weakness that crept up her spine. She had to leave. Her body stiffening, she said, “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have done this.”

Attuma’s arms tightened around her, halting her escape and shackling her to his body. He refused to let her run from him.

“This is unfamiliar for me as well. I’ve never before been with a woman for whom I held such tender feelings.” His words were said in a rush as he felt Okoye begin to struggle against his hold. She’d bared a truth for him and so he did the same, opening his heart for her scrutiny.

“Really?” Okoye asked, stopping her resistance. Her voice sounded doubtful, but there was a spark of hope in her eyes when Attuma lowered his gaze to hers. “You aren’t just saying that to lessen my humiliation?” She continued to question.

“No, my love, intercourse for me had always been a shallow act. It was an enjoyment, a release of tension, or even something done out of boredom, but never had it held a deeper meaning… I feel as…unsettled as I imagine you do.” His eyes were tender and focused on her as he spoke. His hand had come to rest on her face, still holding her close to him but giving her the space needed to see the sincerity in the depths of his obsidian eyes.

Okoye whimpered, touched but rendered speechless by his words. Deciding that action was more necessary than spoken utterances, she surged forward and claimed Attuma’s lips with hers. He gladly accepted, pressing their naked chests together.

Their kissing went on for a while, Attuma willing Okoye to relax as he drew her back beneath him. He slotted his pelvis against hers and thrilled when she began moaning and clenching at his back and shoulders.

Eventually he dragged his lips from hers to say, “I will fit inside you.” He kissed the space behind her earlobe and slipped a hand past the waistband of her tights. He grazed her labia then dipped the tip of a finger near her entrance, pleased to find her sopping wet. “Allow me to prepare you?” He requested, holding back a moan as her core continued to wet his fingers.

Okoye was in ecstasy, experiencing new and wondrous sensations. Never before had her sex throbbed and wept copiously for a man. This little that she’d felt so far already surpassed the many years she’d spent with her ex-husband, and she wanted more.

“Yes,” she panted, keeping Attuma close as she felt a wave begin to crest over her body. She sensed him try to move but protested, tightening her hold and grinding her hips against his hand whose fingers had taken resident against her clit.

That was how she reached her first orgasm. She came all over Attuma’s hand as he praised her stunning face and glorious body.

“My love, let me go, so I may remove the rest of our clothing. It will enable me to give you far greater pleasure than this.”

Okoye eased her arms from around him, melting back onto the cushions of the couch. Attuma rushed to discard their clothing, haphazardly throwing the items over his shoulder before settling between her legs with his face in line with her pussy.

Her labia were delicately arched, opened and glistening as though inviting him to enter. He groaned and rubbed his cock against the cushions pillowed under his waist. He was sure he’d left behind a trail of precum on the soft surface but didn’t care. He wanted nothing more then to plunge his dick inside her. He resisted though, needing to make this encounter as gratifying for her as possible. Instead, he gave into his compulsion to taste her. He would sample her essence and, in doing so, ready her further to receive him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he crooned as he brushed his lips against her clit. He took the bundle of nerves between his lips and sucked before licking across her entire pussy.

Okoye who’d been caught in the afterglow of her first orgasm, violently shuddered when she felt his lips on her clitoris. Her hands surged to his head and pulled at the silky strands as she, unconsciously, attempted to scoot away from his insistent mouth and tongue.

Attuma growled and lifted her lips from the couch to his mouth, preventing her escape. His face, busy as it was, kept him from speaking, but his actions made it clear that he wouldn’t let Okoye’s inexperienced body keep him from wracking it with pleasure. His hands squeezed her ass as he lifted her higher, lost in her taste and smell. He wanted to bathe in her, to have her essence imprinted onto his skin so that he could forever have a sense of her near.

Okoye didn’t last long under Attuma’s ministrations and came, screaming through her second orgasm. He knew but didn’t care to stop his tongue fucking as he felt her clench around him. He eventually relented when she begun slapping and pushing at his head.

“Attuma,” she shivered, her words desperate. “Please stop. I can’t take anymore.” She twisted in his hold, jerking as he licked her one last time.

“You can and will take more, but I’ll grant you a moment’s reprieve.” Attuma was almost feral as he settled himself atop Okoye. He took deep breaths, and, seeking a distraction from his aching cock, he kissed along her neck and chest, smearing her juices along her skin before licking it up.

After her breathing calmed from is previous ragged pants, she recouped her voice to say, “I’m ready.”

Attuma wanted to rejoice but kept controlled. Instead of bringing his dick to her entrance, as his body desired, he placed his hand there. He reveled in her heat and coated his fingers in her slickness.

“I will check to be sure,” he teased, prolonging both their anticipation. He slipped a finger inside her then quickly replaced it with two when he found her soft and pliable. He scissored them as he massaged around the tip of her clit with his thumb. He watched her face intently, pleased by her slackened jaw, half slit glowing eyes and brow scrunched in pleasure.

“You will take my cock so well, my love,” he praised, kissing her brow and adding a third finger.

“Yes, give it to me.” The confidence had returned to Okoye’s voice, propelled by the orgasms he’d rained down on her body. “I want it now.” She emphasized her point by taking his member in hand. It was her first time touching his penis and Attuma cried out, unable to hold back his loud groan.

Okoye was no longer frightened, at least not completely. She held as much of him, in her grasp, as she could and moved along his length. She enjoyed the silken smoothness of his skin and wet her fingers in his precum as she played around the tip.

Attuma allowed her her exploration but soon stopped her hand, unwilling to find his completion in a place that wasn’t inside her. He took his fingers from her core to hold her hand in his. Dampening it with her essence, he kissed the palm before taking possession of her lips. As they kissed, he lined himself up with her entrance.

“Keep breathing,” he advised once he pulled back from her mouth.

Okoye gasped when she felt the bulbous tip of his cock pierce her flesh. There was no pain, but she heeded his advice and took a deep breath as the space between her legs begun to feel stretched beyond capacity.

“Yes, just like that. You’re doing well, my love.” Okoye preened under his praise, moaning as she gripped his shoulders.

“Look down. I’m almost completely inside you.” Okoye again followed his instruction. Looking to where their bodies were joined, she shuddered and pulled him closer, forcing more of his dick to enter her. It felt as though she was drugged, her head fuzzy and body convulsing as he thrusted inside her. Tears came to her eyes and she choked on a scream when his pelvis finally met hers.

“You look so beautiful, crying on my cock.” Attuma proclaimed, permitting the rough urgency he’d been keeping contained all evening to ease through. Once he was sure she was ready, he withdrew his hips then slid himself back in, making sure to grind against her clit at the end of each motion. He wanted to feel her coming on his dick and would do everything to achieve that goal.

He kissed away her tears and caressed her breasts before fully lowering down over her, supporting the bulk of his weight on his knees and an arm stretched above her head. He breathed into her neck as he increased the pace of his thrusts, taking her more forcefully. In turn, Okoye’s hands moved from his shoulders to clench at his back, and her thighs raised to cradle his body.

They remained this way for several long moments, reveling in the other’s body as their coupling climbed higher heights and brought them each closer to their completion. Okoye worked her hips, meeting each of Attuma’s movements. She was amazed that he not only fit inside her but felt as though he belonged there. It was as if her body had been crafted especially for him.

“You were made for me, my love.” He groaned directly in her ear, parroting her dazed thoughts. “You are mine!” He growled even louder, not in anger, but in bliss as his loins tightened, signaling his nearing end.

As they continued to move together, Attuma worked the arm that wasn’t bearing his weight under and up her torso, lifting her from the couch to take better control of her body. Okoye cried out even louder, gasping at the slight change in angle and held her body tighter around his.

Attuma’s hand gripped the back of her neck as he commanded, “Come for me, my love. Now!” And Okoye did, falling apart and screaming his name as her vagina fisted his cock, milking the come that had begun to erupt from his dick.

Birds could be heard taking flight overhead as their guttural cries disturbed their peaceful perch on Okoye’s house. This, of course, went unnoticed by the home’s two occupants as they fought to regulate their breathing and recover from what their bodies had just experienced.

Okoye was the first to speak. “Please tell me it isn’t always that way, that intense, for you,” she panted as she turned to follow Attuma since he had come to rest on the couch beside her.

He’d wanted to collapse on top of her, but had feared hurting her with his much larger body. He settled for wrapping her in his arms as they both now laid on their sides facing one another.

“It has never been like that for me, though I think, with you, it will always be that charged.” He had begun peppering kisses along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as he spoke.

“Well then you better prepare my grave,” she joked then sighed as she felt his hands, once again, begin to roam over her back and thighs.

Attuma chuckled, “Never. We will be together for decades to come, and then leave this realm, together, in a blaze of lights.” He nibbled at her ear then brought a hand to the mess they’d made between her legs. He hummed happily when she readily opened for him.

Okoye relaxed back on the couch, almost believing him as she gave herself over to the next round of lovemaking he seemed intent upon starting. She didn’t know about going out in a blaze of lights, but being together for decades to come sounded quite alright to her.

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: What Happened in the Sauna… Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Author’s Note: @xblackreader, @sphinx81, @karimk2 and @theeblackmedusa I hope I did the prompt justice. Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: 2396

Reclining back in the moist heat of the sauna, Attuma welcomed the relief as his muscles begun their process of relaxation. He massaged at his shoulders and circled his arms in the air, working out the kinks and knots that had developed from hours of sparring with Okoye.

Done with that, he hesitated a moment before reaching for his rebreather. He hypothesized that the air in the sauna was hydrated enough for him to comfortably go without the mask, as his skin had reverted from its blue hue, but wasn’t sure. He took the chance, removing it, and was rewarded to find that he’d been right. He carefully placed the rebreather down on the portion of bench above him, sure not to spill any of the fluid contained in its concave surface.

He turned his massaging fingers onto his face and rubbed along the contours of his cheeks and nose before running them through his hair. In actuality, his face hadn’t been bothered by the mask, Talokanil technology having advanced from the days of seaweed and ill-fitting apparatuses, but it was nice to have his face free and out in the open.

Attuma, and the other Talokanil soldiers who had volunteered for the program, had been in Wakanda for the last several days. They’d trained with the Dora Milaje, teaching each other their fighting styles, offering improvements and examining the other’s weapons of choice. It had been an enjoyable and informative exchange, though Attuma had been disappointed by the absence of the warrior he’d engaged with on the bridge.

When he could no longer keep himself from asking after her, he’d learned her given name, Okoye, and that she’d been demoted and stripped of her military ranking. She, for a brief time, had been simply a civilian before she was recruited for the Princess’s Midnight Angels. That explained why her dress had been different from that of the other female warriors that Talokan had battled that day on the monstrous Wakandan ship.

The Dora who had imparted him with the knowledge had been polite enough earlier in the day, but turned cold, glaring at him while telling the tale. She clearly blamed him for what had happened to her former general. Attuma did feel some guilt upon hearing what consequences had befallen the fierce warrior but waved it away. They had both been in command of their nation’s defenses: following the orders of their rulers and duty bound to protect their people by any means necessary. She would’ve done the same as him, had the tables been turned.

Unable to leave Wakanda without at least seeing her once, he sought her out. She’d ignored his friendly overtures, gruffly dismissing his invitation to talk, so he’d needled her until she had agreed to his challenge to spar.

He’d expected intense competition but had been almost unprepared for the hours of back and forth that had ensued, especially after having already spent the day training. His body was exhilarated but, somewhat, unpleased with the experience.

Now sat in the sauna, he groaned, glad to finally allowed his body to rest. The late hour meant that he would have the area to himself, or so he thought. He was dispelled of that belief with the opening and closing of the door. To a surface dweller the sound would have been inaudible, but his superior hearing picked up on the shifting of the door hinges. He also heard the light steps coming into the room.

“Okoye,” he breathed, picking up her scent and easily seeing her face through the steam that had accumulated in the room.

“Attuma?” She exclaimed. He could see her hastily wrap a towel around her body before waving a hand in front of her face to clear the fog.

“Yes, have you followed me, warrior? Do you seek to accomplish a just win this time?” He found that he couldn’t help himself when it came to this woman. He would do anything to have her attention; to get under her skin.

Okoye stomped her foot, the irritation clear in her tense shoulders and the frown on her face.

“Hardly. I would never follow you, and that last spar resulted in a just win.” She was tempted to turn and leave the sauna but refused to be chased away by this bull of a man. She took a seat adjacent to his. ‘It was better to keep your enemy in sight,’ she thought to herself as she eyed his defined chest and broad shoulders before glaring at his face. It was the first time she’d seen his skin without the blue tint sported by all the Talokanil once on the surface. The moisture in the sauna must have been enough to hydrate his skin to its natural color. She was curious but refused to ask about the change.

Attuma smirked briefly, eyeing her in return. She hadn’t been thorough enough in covering herself, and her right nipple pointed through over the top of her towel. He licked his lips, letting his legs fall wider as he imagined both her breasts laid bare to him as he pleased her.

“We have different definitions of just, warrior. Kneeing a man in his most private of parts while grappling in play is hardly just.” His hardening length ached slightly in remembrance of the blow.

Okoye laughed in answer and was about to speak when she noticed that Attuma had shifted to lift the towel off his lap.

“What are you doing?” She tried to contain her alarm but was unable to stop her mouth from falling open at what he unveiled. His shaft was only partway erect but already larger than any she’d seen before.

“You have bared yourself to me, so I thought to respond in kind. Also, it is imperative that I ensure no damage has come to my being since your vicious attack.” He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking from base to tip as his eyes, once again, gazed at her exposed nipple.

Okoye felt the space between her thighs become wet as she watched the motion of his hand. His actions were reckless and inappropriate, but she couldn’t look away. The bulbous head of his dick called to her. A drop of precum caused her to lick her lips.

“Lower your towel for me further, warrior. I wish to gaze upon your other breast as I pleasure myself.” He tightened his grip, speeding his hands up as his manhood presented itself to her at its full length.

“Huh?” Okoye asked, dumbfoundedly before heeding his words. Tearing her eyes away from his performance, she looked down at her chest and saw what his eyes had picked up earlier. This man, clearly, was no gentleman who would’ve graciously looked away or excused himself from the room.

Returning her glare to Attuma, she decided that two could play this game. She refused to have been caught awestruck by his physique without making an impact of her own. Instead of simply lowering the towel, she removed the entire thing, throwing it to the side as she fully bared herself to him. She was more than confident in her body, honed from decades of training, and was gratified by his sharp intake of breath and loudly exhaled groan.

She thought to retake her seat but decided to further her teasing and conquest. She would have this man under her, begging and moaning as she took her pleasure. Stepping towards him, she made sure to increased the sway of her hips.

“It is only right that I be the one to ensure no harm has come to you since I was behind the attack.” She purred the statement, placing her hand over his.

Attuma had fallen still during her advancement as he’d been captivated by the hypnotic movement of her body and seductive look in her eyes. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that this was how his night was going to go, but thanked Chaac and his people’s other gods for their blessings.

Kneeling on the bench below him, Okoye removed his hand from his penis and placed it on her breast. She allowed him a moment to caress her, holding back her moans as he immediately begun rolling her nipple between his fingers. Gazing directly into his eyes, she took up stroking his dick. She held it between her hands as she moved up and down his member with a tight grip.

Attuma groaned, loudly, fighting to keep his eyes open while the woman he’d spent near months thinking of touched him. If this was to be their only coupling then he wanted to do it all. Leaving her breast, he grabbed her about the waist and hauled her onto his lap. He took her lips, licking into her mouth as his hand took hold of her ass. He ground her pussy against the underside of his cock. He wanted to taste her lower lips as well but would settle for these, for now.

Okoye’s plans for control had been hijacked by the fish head, as she had not so kindly taken to calling him in her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as his penis pressed into her clit and lit her body aflame. Moaning into his mouth, she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at his scalp as she worked herself against him, chasing the orgasm she could already feel coming.

When it hit, Okoye fell out of their kiss. She cried out as her back arched and her pelvis sputtered of its own accord.

Attuma took that moment to enter her, seating her directly on his dick after taking her hips roughly in hand. Okoye screamed in pleasure, her orgasm heightened as Attuma buried his face in her neck and bracketed his arms around her waist. He gritted his teeth, holding back his own climax and groaning at the feel of her wet walls convulsing around him. Her muscles held him in a tight grip before relaxing and doing it again. It was heaven but also hell as he didn’t want to embarrass himself by finishing too quickly with his warrior.

He gave her shallow thrusts as she worked through her orgasm. When it finished, she lifted his head from her shoulder and kissed him with twice the passion he had bestowed on her. Then she pulled away and begun to move on his cock. She may have just come but was energized and ready to do it again, this time in tandem with her fish head. One orgasm had rendered the childish nickname from one of spite to affection.

Her hand on his shoulder, Okoye drove her hips onto his, taking him deep. She forced her eyes to remain open as she watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. His hands still firmly gripped her, but he surrendered and allowed her to moderate their pace. She appreciated his submission but wanted to experience the full power of his thrusting hips as he took her. Slowing her body, she pulled his hair to capture his attention.

Before he could speak, she said, “I want you on top.” She pulled him forward and leaned back on his lap, trusting him to steady her. She left the care of her body in his hands. It was marginally terrifying, but Okoye had never been one to let fear hold her back.

Attuma didn’t disappoint. He cradled her in his arms before delicately placing her, on her back, on the bench. That was where his gentleness ended though. Once he was back inside her, his thrusts were forceful. He took her breath away as he caged her in his arms. He groaned loudly in her ear, voicing his pleasure and complimenting her as he encouraged another orgasm from her body.

“You take my cock so well, little warrior… Does it feel as good for you as it does me?... Come for me. Wet my body with your essence… Good, just like that, my love.” No man had ever been so vocal with her, instead choosing to remain stoic as they expected Okoye to perform for them. It was liberating to know her partner found such pleasure in her and compelled her own to flow as she drenched Attuma and the bench beneath them in her juices.

Okoye was now the one whose eyes rolled back into her head as she relinquished complete control. Attuma took command of her body, thrusting into her and grinding into her clit as he bit and kissed along her neck and shoulders. He noted her reactions to his movements and repeated the ones she seemed to find especially favorable. Okoye could only hold on, nails digging into his back and ass, as he rearranged her world.

Soon they were both screaming, crying out their pleasure as they reached their completion together. Attuma emptied himself inside of her. He filled her with his seed and could feel it gushing as his hips continued moving, even though he was done and spent. It would seem it wasn’t only his mind that couldn’t get enough of the woman underneath him.

Okoye had to eventually push him off of her, much to sensitive to tolerate anymore stimulation down below. She heard a loud thud and a pained groan as Attuma landed on the ground below their chosen bench.

She attempted to apologize but found she was unable to form words. Her body still tingled, twitching slightly, from the force of her orgasm. Taking a moment to recover, she eventually joined Attuma on the floor by rolling over to land atop his body.

He issued another pained groan but happily and immediately lifted his arms to wrap around her. He rubbed along her back and shoulders as she snuggled under his chin. Sleep was quickly coming for her, but they couldn’t stay where they were and risk being found in such a compromising position.

“We can’t stay here,” she stated, though she made no effort to move.

“You may rest your eyes for a while. I will keep watch, until you are ready to leave, and alert you if anyone approaches.”

Okoye smiled. She allowed her eyes to close as she put her trust, once again, in this man who had started out an enemy but was, maybe, becoming something more.

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: Nonm Reken Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Summary: Okoye encounters the Shark Man while vacationing in Haiti. Based on an AU story idea by @xblackreader.  Warning: Dubious Consent/Dead Dove (Attuma takes what was not expressly given to him. You’ve been warned.) Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: 5735

While making her way to Haiti, Okoye had heard from multiple sources about the many disappearances that had occurred on the island over the past few months. First, the person who’d been seated beside her on the plane had prattled on, eyes wide and hands gesturing, until Okoye had rudely cut the woman off by placing in her earbuds. Afterward, the cabdriver she’d hired to chauffer her from the airport to her hotel had warned her off being on the beach late at night, his eyes staring at her through his car’s rearview mirror much longer then felt comfortable.

Now, the young women standing on line in front of her to check into the resort hotel, all seeming to have already imbibed in the copious amounts of alcohol available in the area, were telling tales of the disappearances as though they were ghost stories. One jumped out at the others who responded in shrieks before dissolving into giggles.

Okoye rolled her eyes and readied what she needed to check into her suite. She was fed up with the warnings and speculation. She’d come to the Caribbean for a rejuvenating vacation and planned on having exactly that. She wanted no worries, no sadness, no anger, and, most definitely, nothing pertaining to possible kidnappings and murder distracting her from her aims. For her, this was a chance to rediscover her happiness, to touch base with herself and decide what she wanted to do after years of serving the Royal Family.

So, she’d turned off her Kimoyo Beads, tossing them to the bottom of her bag after disembarking from the commercial flight, and had rejected all other forms of communication (not that she would’ve been caught dead using one of those primitive iPhones or, Bast forbid, picked up a tablet). While booking her hotel suite, she’d requested the television, and even radio, be removed from her room. In addition to rejuvenating, her vacation would be as technology free as possible to encourage the uninterrupted exploration of self.

When it was her turn at the front of the line, Okoye made quick work of checking-in. She received the keycard to her room and made off, dragging her oversized luggage behind her, without delay. Her room was situated on the first floor and featured large windows that would grant an unobstructed view of the next morning’s sunrise. It wasn’t the most secure area of the hotel, but she felt confident in her ability to keep herself safe. She may have been stripped of her spear and demoted to a civilian after years of serving as General of the Dora Milaje, but her decades of vigorous training could never be taken from her.

She inspected the cleanliness of the space, taking in its beige and white color scheme. Finding it satisfactory, she unpacked her luggage, hanging the clothes she didn’t want wrinkled and folding the rest into the dresser. She arranged her shoes at the bottom of the closet, placed all her toiletries in the bathroom and stowed her weapon away in hiding, not anticipating its need. She worked with speed, wanting to head to the beach while it was still early in the day. She desired to spend her first evening in Haiti on the beach, basking in the sunlight as she read one of the hardcover novels she’d packed.

Her loose pants and t-shirt were replaced by the skimpiest bikini she owned after she freshened up. Hinting at decorum, she wore a sheer, calf-length coverup over the barely there bathing suit and settled a wide brim sunhat over her quickly growing, tightly coiled hair. She completed the look with a pair of sunglasses and left her room, taking with her everything she would need for the day. She didn’t plan on returning to the suite until well after dark.

The resort was located on the beach and with fewer than a hundred steps, Okoye was able to find a relatively secluded area. She situated herself away from the families and couples who’d populated the sands, and deposited her bag and beach towel. An attendant from the hotel approached and within minutes she had a drink in hand and a lounge chair with umbrella to make her space that much more accommodating.

Settling in, she opened her book then gazed out at the majestic clear blue sea. Wakanda may have had the most beautiful sunset, but its landlocked nature prevented it from having this. Its riverbanks paled in comparison to the expanse of endless ocean glistening under the summer sun.

Her afternoon and evening passed in a blur of reading and sun, interspaced with the occasional brief nap, the light intoxication brought on by the drinks she’d consumed and the full belly she’d achieved from the food she’d procured from nearby vendors. This was the most relaxed she’d been in months (more like years, if she was being honest) and before she knew it the sun had begun to set.

The families in the distance had already packed their things and left, while the few couples that remained seemed on their way to doing the same. Okoye lingered where she was, waving away the beach attendant’s concerns when he’d checked on her toward the end of his shift.

She’d returned the lounge chair and umbrella, no longer needing them with the sun’s descent and moved further down the beach, leaving the hotel behind. Putting her bag down when she was satisfied with the span she’d traveled, Okoye sat near the shoreline and watched as the stars begun to twinkle in the sky. The moon now reflected off the water, which had appeared to darken without the sun’s bright light. The sight was no less captivating than it had been in the early afternoon. In fact, she preferred this view, finding solace in the anonymity offered by the growing dark.

Her solitude was momentarily interrupted by the singing of a man hurriedly making his way across the beach. The man approached her but kept a reasonable space between them as he peered at her. She recognized him as the person who’d been renting jet skis to the hotel patrons. Okoye offered him a short wave and slight smile, hoping the man would continue on his way with little, preferably no, conversation.

“Young lady, you shouldn’t stay here alone with the sun gone down. People have been disappearing.” The man’s voice was stern as he lifted his hand to rest on his narrow hips.

Okoye, who knew she’d left her father back in Wakanda, bristled at the man’s tone. She was a lady, but far from young, and could protect herself should the need arise.

“I’ve heard,” she responded, working to keep her answer amicable. “I won’t be out here much longer.” She turned her eyes back to the ocean, expecting that bit of assurance would be enough to move the man on his way.  

Okoye knew it hadn’t been when he continued, “Have you heard the legend of Nonm Reken?” The man asked, also turning to look toward the sea, though he stood at a much greater distance than her.

“Shark Man?” Okoye translated with what little she knew of Haitian Creole.

“Wi, he was a boy abandoned by his parents on this very beach. Some say his father tried to drown him. Others say his parents just left him and ran away. Either way, he descended into the water and was raised by sharks.” The man appeared deadly serious; his words edged in warning as he begun to back even further away from the shoreline. “Stay out here long enough and you’ll meet him. He’ll eat you! I know he’s behind all those missing people!”

Okoye had stood while the man spoke, pretending to be readying to leave but stopped. She rolled her eyes and kissed her teeth at the man’s tale. She wanted to tell him that nothing about his story made sense but held her tongue. How would the boy have survived his descent into the water? If he had survived, how could he have possibly been raised by sharks? Why would his parents have abandoned him, to this beach of all places, to start with?

In place of her true feelings, she schooled her expression back to something cordial and said, “Okay, well, thank you for the information,” before turning back to the ocean and putting a final end to their conversation.

She heard him mumble something about her being fou under his breath as he finally resumed his trek. Frowning, her head whipped around to glare at his retreating back, and she muttered, “If anyone is crazy, it’s you.” She then returned to her seated position and circled her shoulders while tilting her head to one side then the other, seeking to find her previous calm.

With the beach now completely empty, she could appreciate the sounds of the ocean’s waves rushing toward the shore and hear the rustle of palm trees in the breeze without the rumbles of conversations, roaring of engines and shrill screams of children in play. She allowed the sounds to lull her into a sense of serenity as she again took in the stars. They filled her with wonder and a longing for more.

Okoye removed her coverup, convinced that the only thing that could improve upon the moment was immersing herself in the ocean’s cleansing water. She stepped into the sea and ventured in until she was waist deep. Lowering down, she enabled her body to float in the waves and eventually drifted onto her back to maintain her gaze on the night sky. Her body became gelatinous as her muscles relaxed. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the peaceful quiet.

Her tranquility was short-lived, shattered, when she felt a pull at her ankle. Thrashing, she kicked out her free leg and arced her arms back, attempting to draw herself closer to the shore. Her leg was released when her foot made contact with what felt like a slab of concrete. Her sole throbbed, but she kept on moving until her bottom met the sand then scrambled into a run.

‘Maybe that old man hadn’t been so crazy after all,’ was the thought that broke through her terror-soaked mind. A warrior was meant to remain calm and focused during battle, but this wasn’t war and Okoye found herself ill-prepared, weaponless and dressed as she was. Retreat was her best option.

She thought, hoped and silently prayed, that she’d gotten away, refusing to look back as her hotel came closer in view, but knew she was mistaken when arms shackled around her waist and hoisted her in the air. Her kicks now had nothing to meet, but she put her elbows to use, striking behind her as she did her best to twist and turn with the aim of loosening the tight grip. Her blows did little damage as the creature, man or monster (Okoye had no idea) carried her back into the ocean.

She held her breath, preparing to be pulled under the currents, but was surprised when instead she was placed back on her feet in shallow waters. She was forcibly turned around and her arms pinned to her sides by hands almost as large as baseball mitts. She tensed at the fingers digging into her skin but was relieved to find they weren’t tentacles or something else of that nature. She contemplated head-butting the being but rejected that idea, the ache in her foot still present. The last thing she needed was a concussion or other head injury.

She arched her neck, looking up the being’s great height and was met by obsidian eyes that felt as though they saw into her soul. Her body eased, having forgotten it was in grave danger and meant to be fighting. The creature’s, no man’s, eyes were so captivating that it took some time for her to take note of his blue skin.

When she did, her head jerked, her curiosity piqued. Yes, his skin was blue, but it looked to be of the same texture as hers. Had she been free to do so, she would’ve reached forward to stroke along the unblemished surface marked only by the occasional thin scar and grooves that looked to be shark teeth circled around his belly and chin.

As it was, she felt him tighten his hold as he looked her over. Her bathing suit had stayed intact during the struggle, but the top had shifted, putting more of her cleavage on display. Butterflies appeared in Okoye’s stomach as her body begun to tense for other reasons under his heated gaze.

He spoke, but Okoye couldn’t understand the words. His voice was deep with soothing qualities, but, right now, she couldn’t find comfort in anything except the fact that he hadn’t yet killed her, though, her loins showed more interest, moistening against the fabric of her bikini bottoms. The feeling of fear intermingled with arousal was foreign to her, and something she’d explore further if she survived this encounter.

“Please let me go,” she tried, feeling the sting of tears in the back of her eyes as her body warred with what she thought were supposed to be opposing feelings. She cursed herself for leaving her Kimoyo Beads, with their translation abilities, behind, but more so for leaving behind the Vibranium daggers that Shuri had foisted upon her after learning of her unjust demotion.

The man’s head jerked back up to look at her face as his nostrils flared. He didn’t release her, but his fists loosened. He eventually raised one hand, and Okoye’s eyes followed, breath bated, to see what he would do.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his touch gentler than she thought possible of his imposing form. The contact could’ve been considered nice but didn’t remain chaste as his hand abruptly moved to her breast. He kneaded the flesh and pinched her nipple before exposing her to the night air.

Okoye’s hand moved faster than her sensible, though fear and arousal addled, brain when she slapped him across the face. Had she been thinking rationally, she would have used the distraction to form a lethal attack.

He reacted quickly, glaring then grabbing her around the neck. His hold was strong, but, thankfully, didn’t cut off her flow of oxygen. He spoke again, the words harsh. He shook her as if to emphasize his point then unhanded her throat to force both her arms behind her back. His hands were large enough that he was able to keep both her wrists secured in the grip of one palm. She was terrified, but obviously malfunctioning as she found that attractive.

Trembling, she watched, helpless, as his attention returned to her breasts which had come to protrude further in her new position. This time he ripped away her bikini top all together. He tore through the material as though it were tissue. She gasped, unsure if from fright or lust, when his mouth descended on her, making her pussy clench. He used his free hand to roughly lift her breast and sucked the nipple into his mouth, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.

Clearly aroused, the man tackled Okoye down to the sand. Luckily, or maybe intentionally done on his part, the area was such that her head stayed out of the water while the ocean’s waves splashed up their bodies. He’d also seen fit to adjust her upper extremities so that they were pinned above her head as opposed to at her back when she landed. It made for a more comfortable position.

His considerations ended there as he treated her bikini bottoms in the same manner as he had her top, but, rather than discarding the material, he used it to tie her wrists together. He narrowed his eyes at her and spoke what she took to be a threat not to move.

Task complete, he refocused on her body, both hands now free to plunder as they wished. Okoye attempted to buck him off by thrusting her hips but only succeeded in tearing a groan from his mouth as she pushed into his large, hardened erection. The man was solid and weighed her down, easily keeping her in place.

He wedged his clothed manhood more firmly against her pelvis and ground onto her as he bit and licked at her neck and clavicle. His hands continued their rough pawing of her breasts, twisting and playing at the tips. The push of his cock was right on her clitoris, making her cry out with each of his movements. It all overwhelmed her, blurring the lines between fear and lust even more as Okoye begun to succumb to the pleasure.

She was meant to be fighting. She should’ve been using her training to find a way to incapacitate this man, before ending his life, for daring to handle her like so, but found she didn’t have the desire to put an end to things, especially as she felt him working his way down her body. He bit and suckled her along the way. She was sure, if she made it through the night, she’d find bruises and marks all over her body. Instead of  the previous terror that had seized her, the edge of danger heightened her arousal and strengthened the pulsing between her legs.

She stared, fascinated, as his body became submerged in the water on its way to her core. He took hold of her thighs, forcing them further apart when his mouth made contact with her pussy. There was no preamble in the way he went straight to tongue fucking her, the bridge of his nose pressing into her clit as the muscle made its way into her passage, feeling longer and thicker than humanly possible. Okoye couldn’t help but to chuckle at that thought, the sound caught on a moan. Nothing about this man was human, except his shape.

Her hand made their way to his hair, still bound by her bikini bottoms, and pulled at the strands as she came against his mouth. Her cries were absorbed by the roar of the crashing waves surrounding them, and her pussy spasmed on his tongue, which still hadn’t left her body—twisting and thrusting inside her—as her thighs tensed against the hands keeping them down. The strain was almost painful and enhanced the orgasm as it crested over her. The man’s hold ultimately relented, becoming a stroking caress on the inside of her legs as though in praise for the feast she’d provided him.

When he emerged from the water, she placed her bound hands against his chest, petting him as he had her. Her eyes drooped, sleep threatening to take hold, when they were suddenly snapped open by the push of his incredibly large cock. She hadn’t seen his member but knew, from the slight sting that made its way through her core, that he was enormous.

The arrogance was clear on his face as he boldly watched her taking his dick. She could feel her jaw slacken as her eyes closed of their own accord, breaking their gaze. Her back arched, head pushing into the sand beneath her.

More words were spoken from him when he bottomed out inside her. He paused a moment, again biting at her neck, as though giving her time to adjust to his girth. She attempted to take a deep breath, but that was made difficult by the quaking of her body, the muscles convulsing at his invasion. Her reprieve, if it could be called that, was brief as he begun moving his hips.

The little gentleness he’d displayed was gone, replaced by the long, vigorous strokes in which he took her. They set her teeth on edge and lit her body aflame. He brought his chest down on her, her bound hands trapped between them, and forced her deeper into the earth as his thrusts shook her body. His expression was severe as he gritted his teeth. She noticed them gleaming in the moonlight—sharp and intimidating—through the slits of her eyes as she neared her end.

He continued to fuck her as she came a short while later, clearly not ready to be done with her. If she had the strength, she would’ve pushed him away from her overstimulated body. As it stood, she was trapped, made to take more than she thought she could endure. Tears came to her eyes, leaking down her cheeks as she begun to beg, for what she wasn’t sure. Her fingernails dug into his chest and her thighs clamped around his waist.

The man laughed at her, a cocky grin spreading his lips. He licked at her cheeks, lapping at the paths of fluid, then sped up the movements of his hips, adding a grind that felt as though it touched every part of her clitoris. Okoye screamed, crazed as the rumbles of another orgasm begun in her stomach.

When it took over, she momentarily lost consciousness, waking bewildered and disoriented from the sensation of being moved. The man carried her further up the shore as the moon had pulled the waves further up the beach. He placed her back down on the ground, this time arranging her on her knees. She bent and planted her elbows to keep from landing face down in the sand.

Again, he covered her, laying his chest on her back as he entered her from behind. He caged her in the ring of his limbs, an arm placed on either side of her head. The position made for less stimulation on the tip of her clitoris, which was grateful to be left alone, but was no less pleasurable as Okoye’s eyes rolled into the back of her head.

She’d never come so many times in one night and felt as though she was being strained beyond capacity. She could only ride out the ecstasy, trembling and crying out as the man sought his own completion.

As if hearing her body’s pleas, he finally came, filling her with what felt to be a gallon of come. Her core gave an excited thrill but didn’t finish with him, far too wrung out from its three prior orgasms.

The man fell to his side, taking her with him into a tender embrace. He undid the bind of bikini from around her wrists, and Okoye laid there, lightly rubbing at her skin while she worked to catch her breath. Her body still quivered with slight tremors as she begun to fight the pull of sleep—lulled there by his body’s warmth, his arm pillowed under her head and the stroke of his free hand on her hip. She couldn’t stay here, let alone allow herself to slumber, in such a compromising position out in the open.

Her cheeks heated as she felt his come trickle out of her. Shame attempted to take over, but she pushed it away, turning her focus to her escape. Surely the man was done with her now that he’d bedded her. The thought was a distasteful one, but buoyed her resolve as she shifted in his hold. He’d relaxed, the hand on her hip still as his face rested in her hair.

He didn’t react to her movement, so Okoye continued on, picking up speed and rolling away. She climbed to her feet and sprinted away, albeit much slower than she had earlier in the night. She chanced a glance back over her shoulder to find him still side lying in the sand. He’d raised an arm in her direction, but hadn’t given chase. It felt as though she could feel the heat of his eyes on her the entire way back to her hotel.

Completely naked with semen flowing down her thighs, she thanked Bast that her room was on the first floor and could be easily entered, especially as she’d unknowingly left a window ajar. Fate had also worked in her favor as she’d encountered no one on her way back onto the premises. She could only hope that she’d moved too quickly for the few cameras present to catch her image, but if they did, she couldn’t bother to care. She was sure that the hotel staff had witnessed more risqué activity than this, and, aside from exhaustion, the only emotion she could spare was relief as she stood in the center of her suite.

She knew a shower, comprised of a thorough scrubbing and double cleanse, was in order, but couldn’t make her feet take her farther than the bed. She collapsed on its soft surface, overwhelmed by all that had happened. Her conscious mind shut down, pulled under by a deep, unmoving sleep consumed with dreams of blue satin skin and unrelenting thrusts and deep groans that made her toes curl.

She woke late the next morning, her flesh heated and cunt moist from all that she’d dreamt. The area between her thighs throbbed with arousal but also ached from use. The bed around her was covered in sand and she could feel its grit left behind on her skin. The come that he’d left inside her was now dry and crusted over her thighs, which were also sore. In a word, she was a mess. Pushing a hand through her hair, she heard the trickles of more sand falling onto the bed and groaned in disgust.

Hefting herself up, Okoye gingerly made her way to the bathroom, stepping carefully as her body made its well fucked status known. She was conflicted on how to feel about what had happened. While she appreciated the many orgasms (what was a vacation without a fling?), the man had taken liberties with her body without her expressed permission. She’d never said, “No,” the intensity behind his obsidian gaze rendering her incapable, but she also hadn’t said, “Yes.”

She shook her head attempting to rid herself of the distressing thoughts. She’d never been a coward when it came to physical danger and violence, but matters of the heart and emotion had always tested her courage. Deciding that her time would be of better use addressing her basic needs, Okoye put off contemplating last night. A shower and food would enable her brain to better function, she reasoned.

Having entered the bathroom, she looked into the mirror to find a version of herself she’d never seen. Her hair was matted and dirty with sand while her chest and shoulders were marred with hickeys. The dark irregular circles stood out even on her deep skin tone. Looking down, she took note that a few of the markings were on her stomach and thighs as well. She was sure that no one had had this in mind when they’d warned of her being eaten by Shark Man.

She moved to retrieve her Kimoyo Beads to heal the many blemishes when she recalled that her bag, containing all her money and identification as well as the beads, hadn’t made it with her when she’d made her leave. Slamming her hand down on the sink, Okoye hung her head, for a moment defeated, before taking a restoring breath. She’d add it to the list of things to worry about once her body was cleansed and she’d obtained sustenance.

Stepping into the spacious shower stall, that featured a waterfall showerhead and several horizontal nozzles meant to pulse water along the body, she turned on the hot water and fiddled with the controls until all of the apparatuses were activated. She was engulfed in a rain of water, the heat of which felt exquisite on her tired muscles. She tipped her head back, closing her eyes, and let her front then back be massaged by the liquid beating against her skin.

The grainy, dried sand was immediately washed away, already leaving her with a clean feeling though she’d yet to touch her soap. That thought in mind, she stepped away from the spray of water to do just that. She lathered herself in soap—starting with shampooing and rinsing her tiny afro then washing her face before she collected a washcloth to scrub the rest of her body. She used the lavender scented body wash she favored and welcomed the sense of calm it generated with its delicate scent. She conditioned her hair last, rubbing the creamy substance into her strands before leaving it to sit as she turned off the overhead shower but left the horizontal jets on to continue kneading her body.

His face came to mind as she lingered in the water. She could acknowledge that he was handsome, though his expression had been harsh throughout their encounter. She wondered what his face would look like softened in genuine happiness and laughter. She remembered his broad chest. It had been firm against her hands and back, his entire body corded in thick muscle as he moved against her.

The thoughts brought a heat different from the water to her body and she found her fingers wandering to her core. She touched the places he’d explored with this tongue and filled with his cock. Her fingers were lackluster compared to what he’d given her but were enough to bring on an adequate, though underwhelming, orgasm as she stimulated her clit and fed her fingers into her pussy. Had she his name, she would’ve called it out, her brain bombarded with images of him and what had passed between them.

She eventually rinsed the conditioner out of her hair and dragged herself out of the shower stall, reluctant to leave its warm embrace. She worked gel into her hair and let it airdry, uninterested in caring for it further. Her body was lotioned and clothed in a summer pajama set, the red shorts and tank top of which complimented her skin, before she called for room service. She was grateful that the hotel had her credit card on file.

As she ate, she thought on all she had to do. The lone credit card she had for use outside of Wakanda had to be cancelled and she needed to start the process of acquiring new identification. She could use the hotel’s archaic computer to contact the necessary authorities in Wakanda about that as well as seeing about the tracking of her Kimoyo Beads, but didn’t look forward to speaking with anyone from her home country, her demotion still a very much bitter taste on her tongue.

Though she had her list of tasks, Okoye couldn’t bring herself to complete them. Once she’d finished eating, she allowed fatigue to lure her back to the bed, for which she’d already obtained new sheets from room service. She napped, something she’d never had the time to do before this vacation. It was brief and not as refreshing as she would have liked, plagued by the sensation of bodies moving on the sand.

She spent the early afternoon into the evening listlessly roaming around her suite. She’d attempted to read, but was unable to focus on the text, her mind wandering. She ran through her training forms but was sluggish in her movements, putting her years as a Dora to shame. Nothing held her attention long as her thoughts kept drifting back to her night on the beach.

Her body wanted her to return, eager to see of what else the Shark Man was capable. Her common sense told her to stay away, the man a clear and present danger. Her heart was torn, infatuated with the person, whose true name she didn’t know, but also afraid of what could happen.

Meandering to stand beside the room’s large bay windows, Okoye looked out on the world as she leaned against the frame. She stayed there for a time, watching as the evening made way to night, the sun fading to dusk, until she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eyes. She opened the window to its full capacity and leaned out, moving the screen out of her way, to find her bag sat on the ground to the right of the sill.

She left her room for the first time that day to retrieve it. Other then being roughened with dry crusted sand, she was glad to discover that everything was inside as she’d left it. Resting on top, she’d noticed a conch shell and hibiscus flower, which she’d set aside to examine the bag’s contents, but now looked over as she made her way back into the hotel. The flower was a lovely shade of red with a faint tropical scent when she lifted it to her nose.

Okoye bit her lip against a grin, her mood brightening and body finding a renewed energy as she made up her mind on what to do. She’d return to the beach, but this time she’d be prepared.

Turning on her Kimoyo beads, she dismissed the many notifications before using them to heal the blemishes he’d left behind on her skin. (If their meeting went well, she’d let him place them once more.) She turned off the bead’s tracking function then put them on her wrist, where they’d be staying for the remainder of her trip. She exchanged her pajamas for another bikini, this one only slightly less revealing than the last, and pulled a flowing sundress over the top.

She no longer had her spear, so reluctantly armed herself with the Vibranium daggers Shuri had crafted. The young scientist had argued with her to take them, Okoye only agreeing after Shuri had explained that they could be attached at each base and lengthened to form into a spear, if she so desired. She hid the blades beneath her dress, strapping one to each thigh. The flower and return of her bag had indicated peace, but she wouldn’t be caught lacking, again, if that wasn’t the case.

Fussing with her hair, she fluffed the coils that had been set by the gel then tucked the hibiscus flower behind her ear, pinning its stem into her hair. She kept her face bear and only applied a light layer of lip gloss. When she was pleased with her appearance, she put her keycard in the pocket of her dress, not bothering with her entire bag. She left her room and took deep steadying breaths as she approached the beach, readying herself for another encounter with Nonm Reken.

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: You Said What About My Rhino?! Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Author's Note: This didn't turn out how I thought it would. I wanted Attuma to be a bit rougher, but he (and Okoye) had other ideas. Rating: Mature (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: 1008

In all honesty, the argument had been a silly one, born from an offhanded remark meant in jest, and shouldn’t have begun, let alone gone on for as long as it did. Okoye could admit that to herself, but her stubborn nature kept her from voicing it to Attuma; consequently, the rising sun found them on their third day of not speaking.

The first two days had been difficult but bearable with Okoye busying herself training with Aneka, practicing with the upgrades Shuri had made on their Midnight Angel suits and caring for her rhinos. Now, though, on the day she and Aneka had agreed to rest, she wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her Attuma. She missed the soft baritone of his voice and the feel of his gentle, and not so gentle, caresses on her skin, but again her stubbornness got in her way.

Instead of rolling over in their expansive bed and making peace with the man who had stolen her heart, she stayed firmly on her side, stewing in her foul mood. She had just pushed herself into a seated position at the edge of the bed (because if she wasn’t going to spend the morning cuddled up with Attuma then she might as well go do something useful around the house) when she heard him speak.

“Okoye, my heart, am I never again to hear the sound of your voice?” She exhaled, pushing away the warmth that came over her at his words and the fingertips she felt creeping up her spine under the end of her tank top. Her resolve was crumbling.

“I apologize, my love. I meant no offense.”

“Really? Well, you could have fooled me.” The words were said in a huff but the fire behind them had dimmed.

“Please, Okoye. Don’t you think you’re being unreasonable?” That brought the tension back to her spine. Pulling away from his wandering fingers, she turned on him, bracing her hands on the bed as she came to kneel over his supine body.

“Unreasonable?” She raised one hand and pointed in his direction. “If you think I’m being so unreasonable then why did you apologize?” The tip of her erect finger poked into his chest, emphasizing her point. “Unreasonable? I can’t believe you’d say that to me you-you fish head!”

During her poking and name-calling, she’d noticed that his previously soft and apologetic expression had turned in to a scowl, but, in her annoyance, had ignored his reaction. That was until he grabbed her hand and used it, and the rest of her arm, to pull her body over his.

“My love, cease this incessant poking and childish name-calling and talk to me. I demand that we resolve this.”

“Or what?” Okoye challenged. The position he’d pulled her into had forced her thighs on either side of his hips. She braced her palms against his naked chest while she felt him settle a hand on her ass. His other hand moved to her neck, squeezing enough for her to feel but not restrict her breathing. Flexing her thighs, she felt him harden against her as she again challenged, “What will you do?”

Attuma tutted and slapped her ass but gave no further response before he flipped her onto her back. His rebreather kept him from kissing her, but he briefly pressed his forehead to hers as he reached for the edge of her tank top then pulled it over her head.

Okoye didn’t resist, having been craving his touch, but retaliated by pinching and twisting his nipple.

The responding growl and reciprocated action to her own breast had her moaning and biting her bottom lip. Attuma wasn’t often rough with her, so she relished it when he was.

“My love, your mind fights me. I will dominate your body to quiet it.” He promised, grinding his naked erection into her clothed pelvis. Okoye had worn the undergarments to bed as a display of her continued anger at him and now wished that she hadn’t been so pigheaded.

Unable to answer his declaration with words, Okoye relaxed into the bed as Attuma’s pinching fingers eased to fondle her nipples and pet the undersides of her breasts.

The last two days had been the longest they’d gone without coupling, and Okoye was already wet for him with just that bit of foreplay. She nearly sang a song of gratitude when she felt his hand leave her chest to slide past the waistband of her panties.

Attuma hummed when he felt how wet she was for him. Okoye could hear the gloating in his voice when he said, “You are so wet.” His fingers rubbed against her clitoris then trailed to her entrance, gathering more of her juices before moving back to her clit. “This couldn’t possibly be for a fish head.”

Okoye snorted against his neck, her moans intermingling with laughter as Attuma continued with his ministrations.

“I didn’t…really…mean that,” she managed to say between bursts of ecstasy. Her eyes had softened in pleasure and apology. Massaging his scalp in the way she knew he liked she said, “I’m sorry.”

In reward, Attuma put an end to his teasing. He pulled off her panties then climbed back over her body and drew her thighs up. He slid inside her, filling her in a way only he was able.

“An apology…from the mightiest…of the Midnight Angels,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck as he begun thrusting in earnest. “I may…have to…insult…your rhino…again…if that’s…what…it gets me.”

Okoye dug her fingernails into his back and used her heels on his ass to urge him to go faster.

“Don’t…you dare!” The bite behind her command was dampened by a particularly loud moan caused by an especially delicious flex of his hips that made her see stars.

Her point came across, though, when she took him by surprise and flipped their positions, taking control of their lovemaking and riding him into a mutually delightful ending.

[tvreadsandsleep]

Title: Preparation? More Like Distraction 2/2 Ship: Attoye (Attuma x Okoye) Summary: Okoye returns home from the council meeting and acts on her desires. Author’s Note: Here’s the second part. I hope you all enjoy! Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI) Word Count: ~2220

The bang of Ayo’s spear on the throne room floor disturbed Okoye from her daydreams of Attuma’s cock. The meeting had ended, the elders and their attendants rising to leave as Shuri and M’Baku shared a hushed conversation and Ayo shot her a look of sympathy. Okoye had no idea of the Council’s decision, but, from the angry look on Shuri’s face and the sorrow in the eyes of the Dora’s new General, she could guess that the vote hadn’t come down in the Princess’s favor.

Her thoughts on the matter had been mixed. While she’d liked the idea of returning to train with the women she’d thought of as sisters, the idea of brandishing the Midnight Angel suit under the name of the Dora Milaje had felt…sacrilegious, as though she would’ve been desecrating the legacy left by their foremothers. She hadn’t opposed Shuri in her endeavors, determined to support the young woman in any way possible, but actually found peace with the Council’s decision.

It'd been difficult, but she’d built a new life in the aftermath of her demotion. A life that she enjoyed and had come to adore with a man she truly loved. And she’d found freedom now that her being didn’t immediately revolve around the wants of the elders, the security of the Royal Family and her usefulness to others. Presently, her only devotion was to herself and her family, Attuma becoming the principal member with their marriage. She would always remain loyal to her country, but that loyalty was no longer required to be expressed in her every action. That was a liberty she had come to cherish.

Attuma returning to her mind, she spared Ayo an upturn of her lips, shrugging her shoulders in acceptance before patting Shuri’s back in comfort and taking her leave of the throne room. She didn’t plan on returning anytime soon, if ever. She had a life to resume and the rest of her day ahead of her with a very important someone waiting for her at home.

The ride back to her house was smooth and uneventful, the public transportation in Wakanda always reliably on time, and, upon opening the front door, she was greeted by the aroma of a savory stew simmering on the stove. Seeking out her husband, she found him seated in the living room, whittling a block of wood as had become his favorite pastime on their quiet evenings at home. It hadn’t yet reached noon, so Okoye knew he was performing the habit to occupy his time as he awaited her arrival.

Her steps into the room alerted him to her presence, and the wood, which hadn’t yet taken shape, was quickly forgotten.

Rising from his seat he asked, “How was the meeting, my love? On what did the council decide?” His body was tense, his hands fisted at his sides as though ready to spring into action pending her command.

She smiled, eyes softening as she took him in. The pants she’d sullied with her release had been exchanged for loose fitting sweatpants, which he favored when at home but refused to wear outside their house (as they were unbecoming of a warrior of his status), and his chest was bare, putting the shark teeth scarred into his skin on full display.

“They decided against Shuri’s proposal…I think. You left me so thoroughly distracted that I can’t be sure.”

He smirked, moving to step toward her, but was halted by Okoye, who’d been making her way across the room as she spoke. She placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back down onto the couch, eyes heating as she watched him bounce slightly on the cushions. Or rather as she watched the movement of his cock, which had left a sizable print on the soft fabric of his pants. She just knew he’d forgone his underwear, yet again, and shivered in anticipation of what she’d find once she moved his clothing out of the way.

She’d wanted to immediately follow his descent and fall to her knees before him, but took the time to remove her tunic.

“Will the stew be okay?” She asked, throwing her top behind her. She reached for her bra next and made quick work of taking it off. If the rest of the day went as she’d envisioned, while she’d been sat in that meeting, she wouldn’t be needing clothes anytime soon.

“It will be fine. The fire is low and it is meant to cook for many hours.” He waved a hand, dismissing her concern as he took in her naked breasts. Their dinner became the last thing on his mind as the heavy weight of her luscious rack, their tips hardened and making his mouth water, took up the forefront. He was tempted to rub his dick, his length hardening and tenting his pants, but knew there were better uses for his hands.

“Good, and you’re free for the rest of the day?” Her questions continued as she bent forward to remove her ripped tights. She’d throw them away later (and make Attuma purchase her a new pair), but, for now, they joined the rest of her clothes somewhere on the floor at her rear. The only thing she left on were her panties—soaked with both her arousal and his come, Okoye having followed his order not to clean up.

Attuma noted the damp scrap of clothing, when he pulled his eyes away from her chest. His cock twitched and hardened to its full length at the thought of her cunt overrun with his seed. His hands moved of their own accord, grabbing her hips to pull her onto his lap.

“I cleared my schedule when you told me of the meeting.” His voice was distracted, his focus on the treasure in front of him.

Okoye resisted his grip, slapping his hands off her body. She lowered to her knees, using a hand on each of his thighs to slow her drop. Kneeling between the V of his legs, she encouraged his hips forward and closer to her at the edge of the couch.

He moved but stopped briefly to retrieve a pillow.

“Lift for a moment, my love.”

Okoye heeded his request, watching as he placed the pillow on the hardwood floor where her knees had been. She smiled and squeezed his thighs in gratitude while she retook her position, now much more comfortable with the softer surface.

“Thank you,” she purred, finally ready to uncover his erection and perform the act she’d been imagining since he’d left her sated and saturated in his come hours ago.

Attuma obliged her, lifting his ass to make it easier for her to pull down his sweatpants and slouching in his seat so she wouldn’t have to strain to reach him. He was captivated, held transfixed when she handled his stiffened member.

She began by licking at his bulbous head, the palm of one hand fisted around the base of his cock. She hummed at the taste of his skin and wrapped her lips around him, giving a soft suck before increasing her suction and drawing him further into her mouth. Her lips met the circle of her fingers, the head of his dick at the back of her throat.

She relaxed her gag reflex, breathing through her nose as she eased off then moved back down. Her head bobbing, she chanced a glance up at his face and moaned loudly—the vibration working their way down his shaft and her pussy clenching—when his eyes met hers. They were hooded by arousal, his jaw slackened and free to voice his appreciation.

Attuma had never been shy about letting his pleasure be known, and this was no exception as he groaned loudly and sang her praises. His fingertips brushed the back of her neck, causing tingles to run along her spine, and his hips bucked under her ministrations, giving short thrusts that met the downward motion of her head.

She strengthened the vacuum of her mouth and let go of the base of his cock to allow his hips their movement. Her hand, now free, turned to fondle her breast as the other caressed his balls, rubbing over the slight fuzz that covered his skin. She palmed his testicles, squeezing gently and tugging them lightly away from his body.

“Your mouth is heaven,” Attuma grunted, thrusting more firmly. He drove himself down her throat, his hand on the back of her neck urging her down.

Okoye allowed him to fuck her mouth—wetting his dick and pelvis with the saliva that gathered in her mouth and was pushed out by the presence of his cock. It dripped down her chin and his shaft. He was making a mess of her, once again, and she loved every moment of it, her essence leaking into her already drenched underwear.

Releasing her breast, Okoye used her hand to pry his grip from her nape. At the end of his next thrust she popped her mouth off his dick and reclaimed it in her grasp. She fisted him in a tight hold and moved to lick his balls, taking them into her mouth and sucking as she sped up the stroke of her hand.

Attuma responded with a shout, his hand beating at then tearing through the cushion settled beside him on the couch. His body seized, but he held back his orgasm, not wanting the experience to end.

Bringing his cock back between her lips for a long hard suck, she removed him from the wet and warm sleeve of her mouth and throat to place his member between her breasts. She took a globe in each hand and worked them up and down on his shaft, flexing her neck to let her saliva dribble down onto his dick and lick at what she could reach of the head.

She paused her lapping to say, “I like being on my knees for you Attuma. Sometimes I think it’s where I belong,” before she resumed licking what she could of his manhood. Her neck and back strained, but she continued working her breasts and tongue, determined to have his come cover her skin.

Her words had been meant to elevate his arousal, but they also rang true. Attuma was the only man with whom she’d ever truly enjoyed this act, the taste and smell of him dominating her senses as she exhilarated in his pleasure.

For his part, Attuma was losing his mind. His thighs were tense and shaking while he proceeded in his destruction of their couch, unable to control his strength as he neared his completion. All manner of sounds fell from his lips: grunts and groans meshed with gasps that halted his breathing as Okoye ceaselessly worked his cock. He’d tipped his head back in ecstasy, but righted himself and forced his eyes open, needing to capture the image of Okoye covered in her own saliva with his cock nestled between her breasts in his mind’s eye.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, watching her lick the precum from his dick when it came within reach of her tongue.

With that, she relinquished her hold on her breasts and took his cock in hand, bringing it back to her mouth. She sucked him in deeply a few times, humming on his dick, before easing off to stroke him with her palm while suckling at just the tip. Freeing him completely from her mouth, she leaned back and angled his shaft at her face, continuing the motion of her fist.

“Come on me, Attuma,” she begged, her voice hoarse and eyes closed in preparation.

Attuma complied, making the noise of a wounded animal while he twitched and spasmed on the couch. His toes curled as he watched his come paint Okoye’s chin and chest. She’d opened her mouth, tongue on full display to catch some of his seed midair, and allowed the rest to coat her breasts.

Sagging against the couch, his body melted and recovering from his intense orgasm, he beheld as she smeared his come onto her breasts. She tweaked her nipples as she moaned before licking her hands clean. His cock jerked in excitement but wasn’t yet ready to harden again.

Okoye relished in his taste, wanting every bit of his come on and inside of her. She crawled up his body and settled on his lap. Her head rested on his shoulder as his spent cock rested against her thigh. Attuma drew her head up and used his thumb to wipe the residual semen off her chin before rubbing it against her lips.

Her mouth opened, her tongue making another appearance to clean what she’d missed.

“You are the absolute light of my life,” he whispered, tone heartfelt as he looped an arm around her back to kiss her. He worked his free hand into her panties, skimming over her breasts and stomach to caress her moistened labia then circle her clitoris.

“Where would you like to come, my love,” he asked, breaking their kiss.

“On your dick,” was her immediate reply.

“Then I believe a shower is in order. I wish to clean you up before I dirty you again.” His words were husky and held a multitude of promises, prompting Okoye to follow without a single complaint.

[tvreadsandsleep]

While I was at work yesterday, I was struck with the opening for a Sub!Okoye + Dom!Attuma 18+ NSFW story. I don’t think I’m going to do anything with it, so here it is, if anyone wants to run with it. 

Okoye had learned a lot from Attuma during their time together. He’d taught her how to be a good little warrior for him. How to present herself to him for her nightly fucking. How to atone for her mistakes, when being a good little warrior just wasn’t possible. How to take his cock in a variety of positions without wincing. And now, she’d earned the privilege of learning how to suck his dick without gagging.

You could also switch the positions around and make it Dom!Okoye / Sub!Attuma with some rewording. 

[mamajanky]

WHEW

NSFW 18+ (Minors Do Not Interact)

“You may be seated…on my face,” Attuma spurred, taking Okoye’s hips in hand when she didn’t move fast enough for his liking. He dragged her up his supine body—strong enough to raise her as high as he pleased but choosing to let her pussy skim over his abdomen and chest, leaving a trail of her moisture in its wake. Okoye moaned her appreciation as her clit grazed his skin. Her neck arched back, a cry falling from her lips when she reached the throne, he’d made for her of his face. He wasn’t timid, going straight to diving his tongue through her folds in search of her essence. He speared her with his tongue, the appendage feeling much longer than it should as he reached places her own fingers had never touched. It was embarrassing how quickly she came. Her hands clenched on the headboard of the bed while her passage below did the same around his tongue. Her swift orgasm excited him though, Attuma again lifting her to, this time, place her sopping wet pussy on his cock. Okoye had reached her completion, and now he sought his own, longing to empty himself deep inside her womb.