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#okoyuma
dontruinmymorning · 1 year
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MY SHIP IS SAILING 🚢🚢🚢
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“ i want YOU 🫵 to beat my ass again “
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xblackreader · 1 year
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I don’t know I was in a silly goofy mood 🫣❤️ Please welcome…
The Attoye Family
Might do more of these with my Attoye children: Tadeas and Xyanza are their names.
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beauspot · 1 year
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ok i’ve had time to sit with this viewing of wakanda forever and im only going to try to add things i haven’t spoken about before UNLESS my opinion on something has changed. i do have namuri and okoyuma brainrot so excuse any shipper nonsense you don’t care about 🥴
L O N G P O S T 👇🏾
Small Details I Noticed:
as t’challa was being carried to the city of the dead after the funeral two wakandan ships cross in the sky like they’re doing the wakandan salute
when ramonda meets with the united nations she wears purple and gold symbolizing how she’s “taking care of business” like killmonger
the color red is associated with tradition in wakanda and everything new is associated with the color the blue and blue typically is associated with what element? water
aneka and ayo are so cute 😙
the shift from background music to it being diegetic sirens was masterful
i couldn’t figure out why namor said shuri was the first surface dweller in talokan but he had a suit. then i realized duh it was from the start of the movie 🥴
Why does no one go for the Talokanil masks
t’challa falls in love with a river tribe girl, ramonda finds comfort by sources of water I don’t find it coincidental at ALL her whole family has ties to water.
every time he issues a threat Namor is looking at Ramonda but when he sets the shell down to ask them to call? he looks at shuri.
shuri wears white while she’s working in her lab because she’s still in a mourning period.
shuri’s tribe wears red namor is represented(partially) by blue and what color does shuri wear when she’s taken to his domain? purple.
I JUST REALIZED T’CHALLA JR IS THE KID THAT WALKED UP TO RAMONDA
NAMOR IS NOT THE VILLAIN. IMMEDIATELY AFTER HE TOLD SHURI THE SURFACE WOULD ATTACK THEY CUT TO A SCENE OF THEM PLANNING TO ATTACK WAKANDA
attuma is down horrendous he ain’t even join the fight in wakanda he just went looking for okoye. STAND UP.
namor and shuri pausing to stare at each other before she shoots cause they really don’t want to fight 😐
people keep saying ross’ scenes weren’t necessary and yet fully missed that namor was proved right by his scenes
N’Jadaka TOLD YALL ramonda gave her life to save riri. (doesn’t justify namor’s actions but don’t take away her agency)
shuri’s panther ears on her helmet point down like she’s ready to pounce whereas t’challa’s pointed up showing he was docile
shuri’s actions fully show us namor’s origin and how he ends up as adamant and stubborn as he is. their hatred turned them into warmongers shuri is just able to stop herself before she does something truly irreversible.
namor is such a loser he really thought shuri was finna call him on his shellphone.
in the midst of everything she remembers holding hands with namor as they watched the sunrise…hm.
Random Thoughts I Had During the Movie:
That chairman who introduced Ramonda was fine as hell
That french lady shook her head like her men ain’t break into that lab that’s wild.
Attuma’s first entrance (on the ship) had me grinning from ear to ear like “HEY BIG DADDY!”
Namor can really be brutal as fuck. The way those agents were screaming as their helicopter was spun into the ocean was scary as hell! (i’m still on his side tho ✋🏾🫱🏾liik’ik talokan)
hi anderson cooper!
i wonder why ramonda cut her hair
when shuri told her mother K’uk’ulkan was covered in vibranium he looked at her like “oh so you looked me over?” 😁
the jibari are hilarious
mbakus very silly but he has a big heart and is clearly very wise
nah okoye is right the midnight angel suit is u g l y
i cannot fully express how annoying i find de fontaine
riri my darling baby girl i love you
okoye don’t look ashy and i’m tired of them coming at my good sis
okoye is so funny 😭
the car chase scenes are always the best in these movies
i need the wakanda forever script
attuma GROWLED at okoye just kiss already
i like that attuma got his own whale and everybody else gotta share
ross is such a smol little guy who’s scared of him 🥴
angela was acting her ass off we know this but you know who else? danai. yup. i should watch the walking dead
everybody in this movie fine as hell
nakia should be in more avengers movies
nakia grew them dreads fast
their shaman was fine too everybody is HOT
why is de fontaines hair purple she looks twelve
if namor got in my face like that i’d kiss him idk
shuri fully forgot she was wearing that man’s bracelet until it was pointed out to her
mbaku’s face when he saw that whale underwater took me out.
see namor dodging shuri’s fire makes no sense he literally stands still when he’s being fired at initially and then hits the ship fire out of the air with his spear.
riri don’t listen cause ramonda definitely told her ass to run
i just-don’t get namor sometimes because he fully could have killed the scientist and shuri and he clearly doesn’t care about eternal war he just DOESN’T DO IT.
Nakia’s funeral outfit is beautiful
i will fully admit that the beauty of tenoch blinded me to namor’s brutality. that man is vicious.
aneka is so funny
iron heart has such a cute anime suit i kinda love it and hate it
we’ll probably see a different one since she can’t take it home though.
there’s something so silly about the way shuri and mbaku start to arm wrestle
the way he said “princess” and stared at her on the ship…he wanted to fuck so bad omg.
the lighting when shuri gets stabbed is insane, it becomes less saturated and green and i really like it 😗
namor’s little butt jiggle as he fell?? lol
the dissenting wakandans and talokanil are going to be a problem moving forward. they’ve each lost people and they’re not gonna let that slide.
WHY SOMEBODY BOO WHEN ANEKA KISSED AYOS HEAD. FUCK OFF HOMOPHOBE
Final Thoughts:
I really love this movie obviously but i think Tenoch being hot kinda blinded me to how cruel Namor can really be. Cause the whole time i’m thinking, he’s hot and he’s right i’m on his side. In general he doesn’t use excessive force and he gives people ample opportunities to stop fucking with him before he really goes off tho.
I still stick with my assessment that Namor isn’t a villain and you’ve missed the point if you think he is, that his actions weren’t justified but i understand he needs to protect his people so it’s not without reason.
I don’t understand why people think shuri shouldn’t have been the black panther okoye is in the dora, nakia is a spy who else was gonna be the panther?
i don’t know exactly why but this movie excites me and i am growing to love it more than any other marvel movie. this is most likely the last time ill see it in theatres since i don’t want to make myself bored with it but i’m really thankful to ryan and co for putting this out they did chad justice
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laninasinamor · 1 year
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BPWF SCRIPT LEAKS 📝 PT. 2
1. shuri’s rage 😏
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2. attuma x okoye moments
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3. inserting tenoch’s purepecha ancestry into the movie
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4. shuri’s jade dress was stunning ✨
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5. namor & namora bring corn to shuri & riri whilst drinking chocolate 🍫
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6. namor being a simp 🥰 while yielding to shuri
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okay now im done spamming bc reading this script was the highlight of my day
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misslittlemisfit · 1 year
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I have come to the realization that hot African powerhouse x hot Indigenous powerhouse with a sprinkle of bad blood between them is my new favorite ship dynamic.
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sunshinescribes · 1 year
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Strangers in The Night
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Pairing: Okoye x Attuma
Rating: EXPLICIT
Warnings: Masturbation, filthy thoughts, and pining (if you squint)
Summary: Horny Attuma hours after the bridge fight
The surface world is weak.
Attuma had carried this notion with him since he was a young boy gliding past the murals of Talokan, enthralled by the depiction of their gods, and enraged by the cruelty that had forced them to the sea.
And Attuma carried the notion as he circled the single Wakandan warrior on the bridge. She, who protected the disgraceful scientist that would dare to expose Talokan.
Attuma had watched, captivated by the fluidity and force of her movements—the lack of error in her coordination, even when outnumbered.
And even still, he believed her to be weak. She was a surface dweller after all.
She appeared stronger than the others he had come across, but not exceptional. Nothing his kin could not contend with.
Attuma had been so sure as he stalked towards the limp body of the scientist, ready to strike a fatal blow when his attack was knocked off its course, and he felt the lighting quick kiss of a blade against his skin.
He had stumbled back, disbelief disorienting him as he touched the fresh wound against his cheek. His gaze lifted towards the Wakandan warrior positioned between him and the scientist. She glared up at him, her brown eyes as deadly as the weapon she wielded, and an unspoken promise flickered in her gaze.
You will face me.
Attuma could still feel the heat of her gaze. Feel the phantom pain of her spear against his skin.
Miles away, back home beneath the dark depths of the ocean, her presence lingered.
His mission had been completed—of course, but she had been the one thing he never accounted for.
A warrior of the surface world equal to him.
Attuma sat on the edge of his hammock, lost in a foggy haze.
Talokan was at ease, its people grateful to their god and his valiant warriors, but Attuma would know no such peace. Not with the Wakandan warrior haunting his thoughts, and certainly not with the intrigue that pestered him.
The curious, sensuous thoughts that seemed to whisper through the walls of his chamber.
Would she look so fierce if he was buried inside of her?
Would that fire still burn while he had her spread out on a sandy Wakandan beach, while she called out to him in her mother tongue?
Or would she have him at her mercy?
Attuma seldom sought out sex. He found that he was as difficult to satisfy in bed as he was in battle. Relinquishing control was never a concept, and yet the thought of letting the Wakandan warrior do as she pleased made him ache with want.
He imagined her hand wrapped as his dick, tugging roughly in a way that would hurt so good, and Attuma wouldn’t be able to stop himself from bursting all over her hand.
Maybe she’d ride him as earnestly as she’d fought, nails digging into blue skin as she rocked her hips in a rhythm that would be as hypotonic as the Talokanil siren song.
Would she keep going until he was boneless, drunk on the feel of her stretching around him and taking everything he had to give in a way nobody else could?
Attuma shuddered, his hand lowering to wrap around his throbbing dick as he lost himself to his fantasy. It would be in the heat of the moment, a spar fought with wandering hands, instead of their forgotten spears. If the warrior were to lead, she would still not find him gentle. His fingers would bruise her flesh, keep her in place as he fucked up into her aching hole.
And maybe he would be a fool and allow himself to kiss her, to taste her lips against his and pray that he wouldn’t get addicted.
When his warrior finally reached the edge, clenching around him as to keep him right where she needed him most, he would give her his name, and perhaps she would whisper hers back, voice broken and hoarse as she got closer to the ecstasy—the sweet release that they both craved. There would be a competition even in that, in who could make the other come undone first.
She’d only need to call out his name, chant it like a prayer, and he would gladly yield just this once, pounding into her wet, needy pussy until his hips buckled, and her own name was torn from his throat as he filled her with his seed. He would wait, breathless and dazed as she followed swiftly, coating him with her sweetness.
Attuma groaned, blinking through the haze of his powerful release. His legs shook, his breath stuttered. The image of the lust-filled liaison slowly faded, but a feeling settled in his chest.
He needed to see his warrior again. Be that under the alliance K’uk’ulkan wished to form with Wakanda, or on the battlefield.
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karisomk · 10 months
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Alt! Attuma x Soft! Okoye HeadCannon:
Attuma's second favorite tattoo would be the bite mark scar, he has on his right hand due to being bitten by a hammerhead.  He loved it to the point he sketched out the outline,  of the jaws of a Hammerhead just to tattoo it around the scars he even covered with a design of shark teeth.
Attuma lifted his arm when he felt Okoye sit beside him before sliding close to his side.  Instantly, he squeezed her lightly while his hand settled by her hip.   Okoye reached for his hand, gently massaging his palm and knuckles while looking at the tv.  Slowly he felt Okoye's fingertips run over his scars, touching each one carefully. 
A crescent-shaped bite mark that healed into scars, covered his knuckles on Attuma's right hand.  Each cut held a small tattoo-shaped shark tooth filling in the scars. 
"What is this?", Okoye asked gently tapping the scars while Attuma flexed his hand in her grasp.
"A scar that I tattooed over a few years back", he hummed watching Okoye even trace a few.
"From what?"
"Well I got bitten by a shark while out at sea with my cousins", Attuma mused, giving a faint smile even while Okoye gave him a surprised look.
"It wasn't that serious, I promise.  But it was a hammerhead shark that happened to be chasing after a fish that got hooked on one of our fishing lines. I reached to get it out while Namor held it close to the boat, with me not waiting for help I got bitten", He explained, lightly shrugging his shoulders.
Okoye traced the fine dark lines around the tooth markings tattoo, the shape made out to be a hammerhead's jawline.  "You are lucky that it did not damage your hand."
Attuma reached to lightly grasp her chin, gently caressing her jawline while he spoke, "Maybe but it's something I cannot fully describe to see such an animal close and to watch it return back to the depths of the sea".  He leaned close to press a reassuring kiss on her forehead and then her cheek.
"Or you could also be biased about it since you do like sharks, especially hammerheads," Okoye deadpanned. Attuma gave a chuckle, flashing a crooked smile in response.
"If it makes you feel any better Namor was yelling while Namora threw a towel at my head since I refused to wait for her to help.”
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theattoyearchive · 10 months
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Announcing themes and the rules for Attoye-Week!
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siancore · 1 year
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BREATHLESS AND BATHED IN SOFT LIGHT
E |1.8k | AO3
Pairing: Okoye x Attuma
Summary:  He had played his part in her failure, and for some reason, he felt bad about it. The Warrior Beauty, Okoye, was the only worthy opponent in Wakanda’s ranks, he surmised. She was formidable and impressive, and Attuma of Talokan was not easily impressed.
Content: Wall Sex; Breath Play (kind of but not really); Porn with Feelings
The newly formed alliance was tentative. There was an uneasy tension that crept in between the airiness of the celebrations. Wakanda and Talokan had marked paper and solidified their agreement. The Princess was somber, as was the King, but the festivities surrounding them slowly chipped away at the subdued aura and lightened their moods.
The events of the preceding weeks had ushered in many changes for both mighty nations. They were each mourning losses, but looking for a way forward. The celebrations that followed the signing of the treaty was meant to ease some of the tension, but Attuma felt it coursing through his body as he sat to the right of K’uk’ulkan.
He did not like the surface world, a fact that did not need further explanation, because he could not understand the appeal of it. He was not very fond of Wakanda, but Birnin Zana was a beautiful city. The Golden City, he had heard it being referred to. Attuma was not easily impressed, but he could appreciate beauty when he saw it.
Speaking of beauty, his eyes scanned the banquet hall once again as he sought out the warrior who had helped to lead Wakanda to victory during their short-lived war. From listening to palace chatter, Attuma had gleaned that the warrior they called Okoye had been dealt a great dishonor for her failings. She was no longer the leader of their powerful Dora Milaje. Attuma felt a foreign sense wash over him upon hearing of her fate – something akin to guilt.
He had played his part in her failure, and for some reason, he felt bad about it. The Warrior Beauty, Okoye, was the only worthy opponent in Wakanda’s ranks, he surmised. She was formidable and impressive, and Attuma of Talokan was not easily impressed.
As if summoned by Attuma’s occupied mind, The Warrior Beauty entered the hall. She was met with gracious smiles from her countrymen. Attuma kept his gaze fixed on her. He was a staunch fighter in his own right, his might second to none, save for his King. Yet this Okoye held some kind of power over him. He was fascinated and mesmerized by the woman.
He absently raised his hand to press against his cheek where her weapon had marred his skin; the small wound had healed as quickly as it had been inflicted, but the impression The Warrior Beauty had left on Attuma was indelible.
She drew the attention of many of the invited dignitaries who were milling around, but did not relish in it. She made her way over to the warrior named M’Baku. Attuma watched their exchange with some curiosity. M’Baku leaned down to hear what Okoye had whispered. He proffered a nod of his head and then made his way to the Princess. Attuma’s gaze stayed on Okoye as she discreetly smoothed down her dress and turned to make her exit. Before Attuma could think the better of it, or stop himself, he had excused himself from his King’s side, stood, and followed Okoye.
Okoye had walked far down the corridor in the short amount of time it had taken her to exit the banquet hall. Attuma watched as she made her way to an exit. She waved a hand over a sensor and the door slid open. Then, she stepped through it and was out of Attuma’s sight. He followed her.
He found himself standing in a small courtyard that was lit by strategically placed lights and a blanket of stars overhead. Attuma liked the stars. It was one of the only things he enjoyed about the surface world: Being able to glance at the stars. He was distracted a moment by the shimmering night sky when The Warrior Beauty accosted him.
“Why are you following me?” she asked, suddenly in his space, staring up at him.
A smirk crossed his lips, even though it was shielded by his mask.
“Attuma,” he replied, placing his wide hand to his chest in greeting.
“I know your name,” she replied sternly. “Why are you following me?”
“Why did you not stay at the gala?” he answered with a question of his own.
“I was not required to be there,” said Okoye in a matter-of-fact way. “I do not make it a habit to be in places where I am not needed.”
Attuma held her gaze and said, “Oh, I think that celebration needed you.”
“And why is that?” she asked, suddenly becoming aware of their proximity to one another.
“To make it more interesting,” he posited.
She let out a wry laugh.
“Interesting for whom?”
His eyes scanned Okoye’s face and said, “For me.”
“I am not here for your entertainment, Talokanil.”
A sardonic laugh rumbled through Attuma’s chest.
“No,” he replied, shifting closer to Okoye. “I do not suppose you are.”
She tilted her chin upwards and did not look away as his eyes pierced hers.
“You may go now,” said Okoye, as she moved backwards, turned, and made her way to one of the walls that enclosed the small, private courtyard.
She ran her slender fingers over the smooth, cool glass, tracing along the elaborate designs. Attuma watched for a beat and then stepped forward in her direction. He stood directly behind Okoye; she did not move. With his outstretched hand, he touched the wall as well. His own fingers brushing against Okoye’s. She turned to face him, boxed in by his strong arm and bulk.
“You may go now, Attuma,” she said firmly, but quietly.
An electricity flowed between them, almost palpable. The attraction was resolute.
“You do not wish that, Okoye.”
Her breath hitched ever so slightly at hearing him speak her name. Attuma brought his hand to the side of Okoye’s face and she allowed the touch. He traced his thumb lightly over Okoye’s lips, and felt her shiver.
“You are beautiful, Warrior,” Attuma whispered. “May I kiss you?”
Okoye was stunned but did not reject Attuma, though she said, “How? Will you not drown?”
Attuma searched Okoye’s eyes with his own before offering her a self-assured smile.
“I would happily drown in this sea of air, under this shroud of stars, just to taste your lips on mine.”
Okoye made no reply as she watched Attuma remove his mask. His face was pleasant and handsome; his eyes were intense. He placed a hand to her waist and drew her nearer to him. Okoye surprised them both with how pliant she had become to Attuma’s touch.
When Okoye did not pull away, Attuma leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. It was tentative at first, as he relished in the feeling of her soft, full lips. Soon, as his tongue sought entrance and she relented, the kiss was deeper and hungrier. Attuma pressed his body against Okoye’s slight but strong frame. Her body heat was almost searing as it radiated from her. She tasted like the mulled wine from the feast. He kissed her like a man who might perish from thirst.
Okoye opened her mouth and met Attuma’s kiss with equal fervor as she draped her arms over his shoulders. Their bodies were flush against one another. All of the strength that they had seen and felt from their time as warring adversaries was now keenly focused in a most delicious way.
They each wanted to be closer, to feel one another’s desire. Okoye could feel Attuma’s arousal pressed hard against her. He thrust slightly, just to be sure she knew how delirious she was making him. How intoxicating it was to be that close to The Warrior Beauty.
They broke apart, and Attuma did not know if he was panting because of how Okoye had him wanting, or because he was out of breath.
“Do you want more?” he asked, before peppering hot kisses to Okoye’s elegant neck. “I will give you more if you want it.”
“Yes,” she whispered, more like a moan. “I want more.”
Attuma wasted no more time as his hand quickly travelled up under her dress and between her strong thighs. He rubbed Okoye over her undergarments, causing her to moan more eagerly. The sounds that he had elicited from her set him harder. Attuma slipped his hand inside of the flimsy fabric and found Okoye’s hot sex. She was already wet for him when he trailed a deft finger over her slit. Her knees almost buckled when Attuma pressed a finger inside. He trailed her juices up to her pulsing bud and then rubbed her.
Okoye bit back a curse as she leaned into her pleasure; the pleasure the man who was once her enemy on the battlefield was giving her. He thumbed at her, and she ground down onto his hand, coating his fingers with her sweet nectar as she came undone. Her cries were silenced by Attuma’s mouth.
“More?” he asked, staring into her eyes.
“Yes,” was all she said as she allowed her skirts to be hiked up and herself to be lifted, before she wrapped her legs around his waist.
Attuma had already freed his straining cock as he reached between their bodies. He tore Okoye’s panties from her and then lined himself up at her entrance. They shared another intense stare as he pushed his hardness inside of her hot, wet tightness.
He was already lightheaded from lack of oxygen, but when he was finally enveloped by Okoye’s walls, Attuma thought he might pass out. He closed his eyes, held Okoye in place, and began to thrust into her. She let out pleasured little cries each time Attuma drove himself inside, over and over again. His own whimpers matched Okoye’s in every way except inflection. She was an aural delight. Her moans coming out like a beautiful song. Attuma’s moans came out more guttural.
Attuma fucked like he fought: With ferocity and focus. He was brash, almost arrogant in how he was making The Warrior Beauty grip him tightly and take all that he was giving her. He. thrust up into her more fervently, feeling her walls clench around his soaked length. Okoye’s moans came in louder as her breath came in quicker. Attuma drove into her harder and harder until she found her release for a second time under his touch.
Okoye’s body was almost lax as the pleasure of her orgasm washed over her, Attuma held her in place as he chased his own release. After a few more thrusts, he came with her name on his lips as he spilled his seed inside of her.
They held onto one another as they came down from their high. Attuma placed Okoye gently to the ground, ensuring that she was fine and well before he secured his mask to his face. He watched as she fixed her clothing and then took a deep breath. She was radiant under the starry sky and Attuma felt then that he could understand the appeal of the surface world: To see a timeless beauty like Okoye, breathless and bathed in soft light.
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dontruinmymorning · 1 year
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We need to discuss the way Alex talks about Danai. He always sounds so in awe of her. He’s like fanon Attuma come to life. I’m so glad Danai got him as her “dance partner”.
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redlightning1 · 1 year
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Did I buy a Shuri and Okoye Funko Pop just to put them next to my Namor and Attuma Funko Pop. Yes. Yes I did.
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sharonrb · 1 year
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Happy Birthday Danai Gurira
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beauspot · 1 year
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so i just came back from watching wakanda forever and i took notes! but i need to gather my thoughts so here’s what i’m gonna say for now.
attuma FULLY growled when Okoye cut his face. i didn’t hear it before cause the theater was loud but this theater was dead and when you see this movie again just listen during their first fight. he’s so obvious 😭
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laninasinamor · 1 year
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Daddy & Mommy Okoye x Attuma 🦈🗡️
Danai Gurira and Alex Livinalli on Assembled: The Making of Wakanda Forever (2023)
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sunshinescribes · 1 year
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All I Wanted Was You
Pairing: Okoye x Attuma
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Alt!Attuma & Alt!Okoye, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Second Chance Romance, Makeup Sex
Summary: Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small. Except Okoye. Beautiful, incomparable Okoye. Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away?
Attuma had always been a fighter.
His mother often told him so, recounting how he had come into the world kicking and screaming, so full of life despite the uncertainties of her doctors.
She had whispered his name as he cried in her arms.
Attuma. Mighty one. Warrior spirit.
And how right she had been as he slowly grew from a temperamental baby to a young boy fierce enough to chase away the older kids. From a boy to a man who had been graced with imposing height and a thick build that made his family joke about his legitimacy.
His transition to adulthood had been surprising, especially to his mother who fondly remembered how Attuma once fit in the palms of her hands. He had grown, but his nature remained the same.
Attuma never let anything go easily. Never did anything too small.
Except Okoye.
Beautiful, incomparable Okoye.
The love of his life.
Where had all that fight been when she began to slip away? When the space between them grew until it was impossible to cross—until it felt like they were miles apart, and words couldn’t mend what had been lost?
It had happened slowly like all painful things do.
The arguments came first, petty little debates that somehow managed to go beyond what either of them had expected. Okoye would switch to Xhosa halfway through, and Attuma would stomp away muttering in his native tongue. They’d find each other later, murmuring their apologies while at the height of their ecstasy—Okoye rendering Attuma speechless with her mouth, Attuma turning her into a quivering mess with his thick fingers.
Distractions.
A way to wash away the tension without facing the actual issue. Little moments of peace disguised as salvation.
Next came Okoye shutting herself off, slowly pulling away. She became too busy with work. Too busy to be around. Too busy for their trip to the Yucatán Peninsula. Attuma had seen it for what it was, saw the cracks long before everything shattered, but he held onto the hope that if he gave her the space she seemed to seek so desperately, all would be well in the end. If it was what Okoye wanted, he would give it to her. He would have given her anything.
She needed you. She needed you, and you weren’t there for her. Not really.
Attuma could see the fault of his inaction now. Months later, miles away from her. He laid awake thinking of Okoye. Thinking about her cold exterior that hid a sweet, soft soul. Her love was not given freely, and what a gift it was when it was earned.
Attuma could hear her laugh echoing in the corners of his cousin’s apartment. Could feel her fingers running through his long hair as he laid in bed, felt her nails scrap his scalp in a way that always put him at ease. He hummed her favorite song to himself throughout the day, the soft lullaby she had grown up with.
Attuma had tried to push the memories away, tried to rid himself of anything that smelled of her, but it was nearly impossible to get her shea butter and gardenia scent out of his clothes. He tried dating again…that had been a bust.
His silent nature was a turn-off for some, his clear disinterest discouraging for others—and he found that it didn’t matter.
They weren’t her.
Nobody would ever be what Okoye was to him.
His equal.
The love of his fucking life.
The revelation was enough to make him a little hopeful—reckless even, as he made his way to the home they once shared.
Attuma wanted Okoye back. Wanted the life they had once shared before it all went wrong, but he could settle on her knowing that he still loved her—that he could never stop loving her…and an apology. One he had swallowed for months. The same apology he had debated texting to her in the middle of the night when everything came crashing back to him, like a wave hitting the shore.
It was late when he left his cousin’s apartment in the pouring rain. Attuma had hardly noticed, and it did little to deter him as he drove through the night until the roads became familiar, and the sight of a house that held everything good in his life came into view.
Attuma was a born fighter—he would fight for Okoye. Fight for her love. Fight for a life that only made sense with her in it.
Raindrops trickled down his face, soaked his dark hair as he approached the front door. His knuckles seemed to tap against the glass door of their own will. The sound of rain hitting the roof and splashing against the pavement did little to ease the rapid beat of his heart.
He knocked again and his heart caught as he heard Okoye call out.
“I’m coming! One sec—”
Okoye stopped as she pulled the door open, her eyes going wide as she stared up at Attuma. She blinked, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her.
She was beautiful—more beautiful than Attuma had even remembered, and he wondered how that was possible. Her rich, darkskin was radiant under the soft glow of the porch light. Her head was still clean shaven, displaying the traditional tattoos that Attuma had found so fascinating the first time he saw her. His eyes lowered. Okoye wore a simple dress shirt and a pair of shorts that exposed her long, thick legs.
Itzamna, how had he allowed himself to ever be away from her?
“Okoye.”
Attuma’s voice was a low, comforting rasp that ripped her from her own surprise—but it also brought back memories she had been desperately trying to forget.
She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared up at him with a guarded look.
“Attuma.” She glanced at the raindrop dripping down his jaw. “What do you want?”
You.
Attuma held his tongue—he could get to that in time, but for now he needed to speak the words she should have heard from him months ago.
“I’m sorry Okoye.” Attuma could see the flash of surprise in her eyes, the subtle lift of her brows. “For not fighting for us. For turning away when you needed me the most.”
Her arms fell at her side, and Okoye was silent as she considered him. Her eyes searched his, as if attempting to discover any evidence of dishonesty in him.
“You’re soaking.”
She turned back into the house, leaving the door open as she discarded her slippers and walked out of view. Attuma was hesitant, slowly pushing through the threshold, and instinctively dipping his head before it hit the top of the door frame.
The house looked different, more barren than he remembered it, but then he supposed Okoye had done the same thing he had—tried to rid herself of any evidence of a life they once shared.
She sat on the black couch in the living room, her legs pulled close as she cast him a curious look as she held out a towel for him.
Attuma took it with little urgency, drinking in the image of her before him. The memory of her head against his chest flashed in his mind, the book she’d been reading forgotten on the floor as Okoye slept silently against him, warm and soft and completely his.
“You stood in the rain to tell me you’re sorry?” She arched a brow at him, “a text wouldn’t suffice?”
Attuma huffed lightly. He never did anything too small.
“I needed to see you.” He draped the towel over his shoulder, ignoring how uncomfortable his wet clothes felt sticking to his skin. “Needed to tell you I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
Okoye stilled; her breath caught as Attuma stared at her with so much sincerity it made her heart ache.
She averted her eyes, slowly lifting from the couch.
“You’re still wet. I might have some of your old clothes in th—”
Attuma reached out for her hand, his thick fingers catching her wrist as he pulled her back to him. His hold was gentle, light enough that if she wanted to be free of his touch she would.
“Okoye, please tell me what went wrong between us.”
Okoye started down at Attuma, taking in the soft vulnerability in his expression, the clear concern as his dark eyes searched hers, and her heart ached. Ached to know he believed it had been his doing.
“It was me,” Okoye whispered as her eyes began to sting, “Not you Attuma. It was never you.”
His brows furrowed as he stared up at her. He rubbed comforting circles into her hand, a gentle gesture meant to put her at ease—he had always been so good at that.
Where he found words lacking, Attuma turned to gestures. Thoughtful touches, a hand on the small of her back, the brush of his knuckles against her cheek—anything to remind her that he was there. He was there and he loved her wholly.
How could she have ever thought otherwise?
“I was afraid,” Okoye confessed, “I thought…I thought you would be like W’Kabi. Like all the people I have loved, and who have discarded me.”
Okoye could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them, feel the barely contained sob that wished to crawl from her throat.
“You were wonderful, and I was scared. If I allowed myself to love you anymore and you decided one day to leave…It would have ruined me.” She sniffled, rubbing away her tears as quickly as they fell.
Okoye hadn’t always been a cynic, but life had certainly made her one. Heartbreak had become so familiar, so expected after W’Kabi and Ramonda. Both people she loved fiercely—one as a lover, the other as a daughter loves her mother. Both had tossed her heart back at her, tattered and bruised.
She refused to add Attuma to her list.
She had done what felt necessary.
She had been a fool.
“In k’iino…” Attuma sighed, cupping her face softly. “My heart is yours. Always.”
Attuma leaned close, his lips brushing against her cheek, kissing away her tears.
He muttered his adoration in his native tongue, each word a declaration as he kissed a trail to her lips.
When their lips touched Attuma knew he could never go back—never be without Okoye again. Never be free of the taste of her soft, plush lips against his, or her demanding tongue running along the length of his bottom lip. He would never be able to do without the feel of her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, as if he might slip away.
Okoye pulled away with a sigh as she rested her forehead against Attuma’s, “You can’t imagine how much I missed you.”
“I can. It was the same for me.”
Okoye hummed softly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before glancing down at the damp shirt that clung to his form.
Okoye could not stop herself from thinking of what hid under beneath. “Take this off.”
Attuma grinned, eager to do as Okoye wished.
He pulled the shirt over his head, carelessly discarding it to the side.
Okoye’s eyes dipped, cataloging his body as if she were committing it back to memory. Her eyes followed the lines of the scars across his stomach, the same ones she used to kiss gingerly before taking him in her mouth. Okoye’s fingers trailed a path from his neck to the waist band of his sweats.
 Attuma practically shivered under her touch.
“And these.”
He moved with speed he didn’t even know he possessed, pulling his sweats down his long legs and kicking them to the side as he sat beside Okoye in nothing but his draws. The stark contrast between her clothed form and his nearly naked one was enough to make him dizzy and painfully needy for her.
Attuma pulled Okoye to him by her waist, groaning softly as her thick thighs straddled him. She whispered something about his lack of patience as she slowly unbuttoned her dress shirt.
Patience had never been his strong suit.
Attuma pulled her shirt open abruptly, caring little for the buttons that popped and fell to the floor. His sole focus where her beautiful breasts that spilled out. Okoye gasped, slapping Attuma playfully on the shoulder but he only laughed.
“Impatient man.” Okoye tsked, feeling the evidence of his arousal brush against as she grinded against his lap. Attuma cursed in his native tongue as he cupped Okoye’s breasts, groping her soft flesh as she continued to grind into him.
It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough, not with how badly he wanted to feel her again—hear her chant his name as he brought her to her sweet release.
Attuma placed his hand on Okoye’s stomach, pushing her down on the couch as he crawled over her body. He dipped down, kissing her jaw as he worked to undo her bothersome shorts.
They were swiftly discarded besides his wet clothes and long forgotten as he stared down at Okoye, absolutely mesmerized.
Attuma brushed his hand across her clothed pussy, earning a soft groan from his love.
“You’re beautiful.” He slid her panties down her legs. “So beautiful.”
His lips found hers again as he brought his thick fingers to her soft pussy, teasing her has he drenched his digits with her sweet arousal.
Okoye proved her patience was just as limited as his.
She reached inside his boxers, freeing his hard dick—the sound Attuma made was sinful—delicious, causing her pussy flutter. Okoye’s mouth watered as she thought about how good it would feel to have him where she needed him most, stretching her in way that nobody had ever been able to do before or after him.
Okoye pumped him with a firm grip, grinning wickedly as Attuma continued to groan into her neck. His hips stuttering, chasing the feeling of her fingers around him.
If Okoye kept it up he would finish all over her beautiful fingers, and as appealing as the thought was, Attuma wanted to bring her to the brink of ecstasy—wanted to feel her velvety walls clench around his dick. He wanted her sweet release coating him—marking him.
“Want to show you how much I missed you.”
Attuma pulled her hand away, before lining his throbbing dick along her entrance. He slid his hard length between her lips, glazing his dick with her wetness while teasing her soft nub.
Okoye whispered her encouragement, and it was all Attuma needed to sink into her.
They both gasped, acclimating—remembering just how good the other felt, how well they fit.
“My Okoye…” Attuma sighed as he thrust into her. She was so soft, so fucking wet. The squelch of his dick thrusting in and out of her sopping cunt was obscene in the most delicious way, spurred him to pound into her harder.
Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his back as she anchored herself to him, moaning as he fucked her like he was apologizing for leaving her without this—without him.
Attuma brought his arm around Okoye, pulling her closer as his other hand found her clit, lightly teasing her sensitive nub. Her eyes fluttered shut, her mouth hung open as she chanted his name, and Attuma was lost—completely and utterly drunk on the feel of her.
“I’m never leaving you again.” He rolled his hips harder, thrusting into her as deeply as he could manage. His dick throbbed inside of her, painfully ready to explode inside of her.
“Say it again,” Okoye pleaded against his lips.
She was clenching around him, and words were beginning to get caught in his throat, but Attuma still managed for her.
“Never…leaving you.” He grinded into her sweet pussy, rubbed her clit while she quivered beneath him. “Never again.”
Attuma pinched her clit and she unraveled. Okoye cried out his name, fingers digging hard enough to leave marks as her pleasure washed through her. Attuma fucked her through it, felt mindless as her walls held him, demanding his release.
He got one final thrust in before he was spilling inside of her with shaky legs. His vision blurred, his mind lost in the haze of his euphoria as he came down from his high with a groan.
His eyes fluttered open, glancing down at Okoye with a hopeful smile. She glanced down at where they were still joined, before glancing up at him with a sultry look.
“I see you’re still ravenous as ever.” She playfully chided.
Attuma laughed a full, hearty laugh. Laughter had been rare occurrence during his time spent without Okoye, but now it felt as if he couldn’t do anything but.
“For you? Always.”
Okoye rolled her eyes, and Attuma lowered himself beside her on the couch. He brought Okoye flush against him, kissing her shoulder as he murmured his affection.
Everything had fallen back into place, and for the first time in a long-time things felt just right.
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