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tvreadsandsleep · 1 year

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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.

#okoye x attuma #attuma x okoye #attoye #black panther wakanda forever #mywriting #attoyesmut #darkattuma

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