#neytiri helps tuk with her curling practice

[onskepa]

Saw your post about a mother's day event. Could I request a piece where the reader is Jake's sister. She's an avatar like him, & traveled with him & his family to seek Uturu from the Metkayina. During their stay, she remembers that mother's day is coming up, & makes Neytiri some gifts along with the kids. This catches the attention of some of the Metkayina, & they ask her about it. Soon enough, word of the tradition spreads, & a good chunk of the clan has adapted it into their practice. If this is too much to write, I understand. Best wishes!

Helloooooooo honey!!! Gosh dang this is a cute idea!!! Hopefully you and everyone else will enjoy it!

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Muwintxu

Sun was out, people doing their tasks, little ones causing either mischief or chaos. It was a good day at the Metkayina village. In the new sully family pod, at the edge was tuk splashing around with her feet, beside her was her super, amazing aunt! 

Muwintxu as everyone calls her, or in the words of jake. His “super cute, dorky baby sister junnie” which is a name she hates. 

“Hhmmmm……” muwintxu hums out in thought as she too splashes the water on her feet. 

“I want night to come already” she says with a groan, tuk looks up at her aunt. 

“Why?” she asks 

“To measure the stars, time is different here so I gotta use the old fashion way, by calculating the stars” her aunt replies. Tuk tilts her head in confusion. But muwintxu pats her head, “it will be better if I explain it when its night time” 

“Ok!” tuk cheers

“Ok it's 45 degrees more than last week….” as promised, muwintxu was teaching tuk how to measure the stars in the sky. Both of their blue tails curled in fascination. 

“When we left it was february in human time….so aha! In a week it will be mothers day!” the sully sister cheers. Tuk gasps happily and goes to tell her siblings. Upon hearing the great news, they all go back to their aunt. 

“Your mother hasn't adjusted well these months, so how about we give her the best mother’s day she ever had?” muwintxu suggest, all of her nieces and nephews cheer in joy. Already thinking of what to make for their mother. 

“And this time please keep your mouths shut, we don't want a repeat of last year” she says while side eyeing tuk playfully. 

“It was an accident!”

Neteyam, lo’ak, kiri and tuk all explored every nook and cranny of the island. Either being together or doing separate things. The fellow metkayina members took notice of the behavior, while it is nothing alarming, they were accustomed to the sully family being together and away from the population. So what is behind the sudden change? 

“Excuse me, can you help me?” tuk asked a weaver one afternoon, showing him her materials. “I'm trying to make a quadruple braid but I can't do it” she explains. The weaver assists her happily, but as he does, he notices it was a band, one a bit too big for her arms. 

“Is this for someone little one?” the weaver asks, tuk nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Its for my mama, mother’s day is coming up and I wanna give her a pretty gift!” she says. This caught his attention, “mothers day? What is that?” he asks, tuk began to chat away what it was, by the words of her aunt. 

Little did tuk know that she would cause a chain reaction. 

The weaver told his brother, who told his children, and who the children told their friend, and so on and so forth. Word began to spread massively of this “mothers day” thing. The name seemed so intriguing, and the word reached to muwintxu who was fishing the next day. 

“Muwintxu?” a fellow fisher called out to her. She looks up at him, “yes?” she replies. The fisher had a few friends behind him, all looking a bit nervous. “We heard that something is coming soon, a ‘mothers day’ it was. Can you explain what that is?” he asks. 

Sully girl blinked in surprise, guessing one of the kids chatted away of what it was. But, seeing it as an opportunity to connect more with the people, she was happy to explain what it was.

Ronal enters her marui, tired but pleased with her day.  The first thing she sees is her two children shuffling about, covering whatever it was from her eyes. It raises suspicions. “What are you two doing?” she asks. Her children look at each other then back at her. 

“We can't tell you, not yet at least” tsireya answered with a nervous smile. 

“Oh? And why is that?” ronal presses further. 

“Because it is a surprise, you will have to wait until mothers day” ao’nung answers happily. Ronal felt confused, she never heard of that before. 

“Ay, toruk makto’s sister explained to us and the village of a day about mothers is upon us. A human tradition, "Tonowari says as he walks up behind her with a smile. 

Tsireya nodes and happily relayed what she learned. “Yes, and lo’ak said they celebrated that tradition with their old clan. Apparently, mother’s day is a tradition where everyone celebrates their mothers, giving them gifts, letting them rest, and being given the greatest treatment”. 

The more Ronal hears of mothers day, the more tempting it sounds. A day with no duties to worry about? 

“And we, along with others, want to give it a try. Everyone is doing something for their mothers, so we want to do something for you” ao’nung says. 

Ronal smiles and closes her eyes, “I do not see the harm in it” 

Neytiri slowly awakens from her slumber, getting up and stretching out her limbs. Rubbing her, ridding of her sleepiness, she looks around and sees Jake, Muwintxu and her children around the cook pit, a delicious smell emits from it. 

“She’s awake!” lo’ak announces. 

Everyone was quick to surround her, all with happy smiles on their faces. 

“HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!” they are shouted together. 

Neytiri gasps in happiness and surprise. 

“I thought we left that tradition behind with everyone” she says, jake and muwintxu scoff together. 

“Never, mother’s day will always happen no matter where we are tsmuke” the sully sister says. Jake nods in agreement. 

Everyone gave her individual hugs and kisses, jake of course hogging up neytiri’s attention. 

“Daaaaaaaaad!! No fair!” tuk whines, but Jake picks up neytiri bridal style and runs around their home, their children giving chase. 

“Ma’jake!” neytiri squeaks but in delight. 

“MUAHAHA! All mine!” Jake taunts. 

“Not for long!” lo’ak said confidently. Laughter filled their home, neytiri feeling her mood lighten by the display of her family.

After breakfast, everyone was way too excited to give neytiri their gifts. 

“Me first! Me first!” tuk insisted, but was pushed away by lo’ak. 

“Too bad baby sister, I'll go first” he says. But he too was pushed away by neteyam. “Sorry baby bro, but eldest goes first”. 

It didn't really matter who went first, neytiri was just too happy to enjoy this day. 

Neteyam gave her a head piece made of sea glass, with small beads that dangle on the side, while beautiful, it also helped keep her hair from getting into her face while swimming underwater. 

Kiri made her a new shawl made of yellow sea weed with pieces of shells here and there, making a studding pattern. 

Lo’ak created a new bracelet made of small sea glass and shells, making a omatikaya patter with metkayina materials. 

Tuk, though with help, gifted neytiri an arm band that has familiar colors but with metkayina weaving. 

Munwintxu made a new top and loin cloth that matches with her, almost in twin clothing. 

And Jake said the gift is saved for later. 

“You all worked hard to make these wonderful gifts, but really the best gift I can have is to live another day and see you all is enough happiness for me” neytiri says in appreciation. 

After breakfast, which was done by Jake and muwintxu, all walked together through the village. Where they noticed something. 

Women were being given gifts by others, children and mates all treating the mothers like queens that they are. 

“Huh, wonder whats going on? '' Jake wonders. 

Munwintxu chuckles, “I um ... .might have taught everyone what mothers day was and they sort of….picked it up…?” 

“Again? You did it with the people back at the forest, now you are doing it here "Jake looks at his sister. Remember her doing the same thing with the Omatikaya people. 

“What's next, Junnie? Fathers day? Halloween?” he asks. 

“Ok first, stop calling me that, second, why the hell not? They are fun traditions!” the sister snaps back. 

“Indeed, a fun tradition it is” 

Everyone turns to see Tonowari, who had Ronal sitting on his shoulder. His arm on her legs to support her. They and along with tsireya and ao’nung all smile at the sully family. 

“Everyone is participating on mothers day with their families! Giving gifts, showing so much appreciation, love, it is so exciting!” tsrieya says in glee.  

Her family nods in agreement. 

“A very exciting tradition, one that we wish to continue in future years” tonowari says. 

“That is if you do not mind,” ronal adds as she looks between neytiri and muwintxu. 

“Oh, not at all. We are very happy you love this tradition. My sister introduced this very same tradition with my clan years ago, and it is still very much practiced, "Neytiri says as she happily gestures to muwintxu who blushes. 

“However, if there is more human traditions your have, please share with us” ao’nung encourages. This makes Jake grin. “Oh you will love one that is called may the force” 

“Jake don't you dare!” 

Overall, it was a successful first mothers day in the metkayina village. And many more to come. 

This was short but sweet! And very fun to write, hope you all like it! Until next time! See ya!

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Munwintxu = introduce present (person, idea, report etc.)

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìyora Pt 2 ༊ Aonung x Fem!Sully!Reader ༊ Enemies w Benefits ༊ 5.6k words Warnings: arguing, Aonung is a little shit, reader is a little bit bitchy, oral (fem recieving), edging, p in v, THIS WILL BE A SERIES!!!! *Note that reader is practically Neytiri's twin, like mother like daughter. I chose this photo bc when writing I like picturing an OC or different face in my mind, and this one looks different enough from Neytiri's other scenes, but similar enough that reader has all the good Sully genes*

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You don’t sleep well. It’s not surprising, given that your body’s aching from your fight with Aonung, and you other… rendezvous, and when you finally can’t take the uncomfortable tussling on your sleeping mat, you let out a soft hiss and sit up.

The light permeating through the gaps in the marui’s weaving is watery and cool and dim. Not quite moonlight, but you doubt the sun’s even broken the horizon yet.

You look over at your family sleeping around you. Your parents share a mat with Tuk tucked between their bodies, and Kiri’s curled up beside you, her choppy hair falling over her peaceful face. Neteyam’s on his back, face twitching slightly from whatever dream he’s having, and Lo’ak’s slumbering facing his brother, head nearly lolling onto Neteyam’s shoulders.

You feel a soft pang at the sight of your family, all peaceful and still while you glance over them. All your annoyance at training with Aonung, and your tiredness after the events of the previous day fade away as your mind clears, and you remind yourself of your position in this family.

No one asked you to do it, of course not, your parents and siblings thought it may break you, but you’d always been the protector. Since you were born, minutes before your twin Neteyam came, you knew that it was up to you to defend your siblings, help your parents and do anything in your power to make this family work. If it was a fortress, you’d be the moat around it.

So, gently tucking Kiri’s hair out of her face and hitching Lo’ak’s blanket higher over him and Neteyam, you slip out of the marui into the still, watery morning. The village is quiet; the only sound coming from the gentle waves lapping below the walkways and maruis. There’s no one out, so you take advantage of the emptiness, the first moment of peace you’ve been able to steal since you arrived in the reef.

And there’s one more thing you haven’t done since you came. The one thing you truly loved, that was yours and yours alone. You sneak through the village, wincing at every creak the bouncy woven walkways make with every few steps. You have your bow slung over your shoulder and your knife tucked away into your tewng as you leap off the last platform onto the sand and then finally into the forest.

To be fair, they never said you couldn’t leave the soft beaches and cool water of the bay, to go beyond that line of bright white sand and into the closest thing to home you had here. It’s not like you’re breaking any rules, spoken ones at least, but you can’t help the feeling that you’re doing something wrong, that someone’s watching as you step off the sand.

But once your feet fall on soft grass and the open sky fades to soft emerald foliage, you can’t be fucked to worry. The lapping waves are replaced by rustling leaves and the twittering of hidden creatures, and the salty, tropical scents are replaced by what is distinctly forest. And then finally, a familiar shrieking noise calls through the forest, and your face lights up as you run towards it.

Your ikran is perched in the trees, obviously delighted to see you, though clearly disgruntled she was abandoned for so long. You reach up to stroke her long neck before connecting your kuru and sliding onto her back.

Eywa, you had missed the rush flying gave. The wind in your hair and the twist in your gut as you watched the ground soar past beneath you. The way you could twist and dive and swoop was terrifyingly breathtaking. You let go and let out a delighted cry, flying freely through the sky.

You finally make it past the forest and over the ocean. You swoop in ever widening circles, down and down towards the water. You tilt over the surface so you can reach out and brush the water with your fingertips and her with her wingtips.

As you spiral back up, you spot a very familiar figure gliding through the ocean below you. Broad, tall, hair braided back as he darts through the water on a tsurak. You scowl as he looks down hurriedly as you swoop over him, the sun having risen just enough for your shadow to cast over him.

You both know the other is there, but you ignore it. You continue to fly in wide circles, hair flowing behind you, legs holding tight to your ikran while you let your arms go and catch as much wind as possible. Aonung continues to do whatever the fuck he’s doing below, maybe hunting?

And then finally, you feel your ikran slowing down through your tsaheylu, and with a small sigh of disappointment, you swoop down to the beach below. It’s not the same one as the bay of the village, but it will just mean more time for yourself to find your way back. Unfortunately, there was someone already on the sand.

“What are you doing?” you ask bluntly, when Aonung looks over at you sliding off your ikran and disconnecting your kuru.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, nodding to your ikran. “Got sick of being incompetent underwater? Went for a little walk in the forest?”

“It’s not like I can’t-” you start to say, but he scoffs.

“You can’t.”

His voice is blunt, uninterested. It’s practically a command, and your eyes instantly narrow. You’ve never been good at following orders; something that always drove your dad crazy, something that always made Neteyam try to fix up, though you were a firm believer in dealing with your own messes.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” you say sharply, eyes narrowing somewhat the longer you stare at his stupid, entitled face. Aonung’s face twists in a lilting grin, eyes trailing up and down over you as he scoffs.

“Your future Olo’eyktan,” he says simply.

“And what happened to me not fitting in, that I’ll never be a part of the clan with my baby tail and scrawniness?” you ask, your growing anger clear in your low voice.

Aonung doesn’t reply, just looking you up and down again, and you decide to stoop down to his level, eyes roaming across him, prepared to find some new insult to hurl if needed. He is admittedly very well built, with a sculpted, solid chest tapering into a slimmer waist, with broad shoulders and strong arms. He is broad and tall, something infuriatingly obvious already knew, but you hadn't noticed the sharpness of his collarbones and jawline, or the way the veins in his arm flexed when he tensed. Well you did, but you only noticed when he was moaning beneath you. And then you flick your gaze back up to him and find him glaring back.

“Are you going to storm off again?” Aonung asks, his voice sounding slightly amused as you turn away and stride away from him along the sand.

“No,” you scowl, trying not to let your irritation show too much. You don’t want him to realise how deep he can get. Under your skin. That’s all. But he seems to guess what you’re shamefully thinking, because his voice sounds even more cocky when he speaks again.

“Do you need some help freak?”

“Fuck off,” you growl, still determinedly not looking back at him over your shoulder as you definitely don’t storm away. “I don’t need help, least of all from a cocky, brainless, dull, oblivious, pestering, rude, taunting, tiny-dick-”

“Right,” Aonung laughs, and you can practically hear the amusement in that deep voice. You can also picture the smirk fixed on those fish lips as he watches you stride away. “Quite tiny-dicked, wasn’t I?”

You turn with a furious hiss, only to find him feet away, laughing at you. His eyes are sparkling with amusement at the sight of you, flushed and irritated and hair streaming behind you. He’s got you right where you had him yesterday, furious and frustrated while he can just enjoy the sight.

“Why are you still so cocky,” you snap, jabbing him in the chest. He doesn’t shift in the slightest, and if anything, he looks even more amused, grinning from at least a foot above. “I won. I beat you every time, but you are just so infuriatingly, incomprehensibly fucking arrogant that anything I say, any time I win, nothing can get into your stupid, cocksure head.”

You pointedly smack the top of his head, and he grins even wider, before reaching out to grab your wrist before you can hit him again.

“Let me go.”

“You know,” Aonung says, fangs glinting in his wide smile as he stares down at you, “you really shouldn’t be attacking your future Olo’eyktan.”

“You really should let me go,” you say bluntly, trying to tug your wrist free from him without looking like you’re struggling. “Before I smack you so hard that you never get to become Olo’eyktan.”

Aonung just laughs, pulling you an inch closer so once again, you have to tilt your head right back to maintain this glare. It seems unfair, that you always have to be the one working to bitch stare this stupid infuriating freak.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means let go of me before I smack your aquatic ass back to Eywa,” you hiss. Aonung’s mouth twitches again, but to your surprise, he lets you go. He doesn’t step back though, and when you try to walk around him, he just grabs your shoulders to stop you passing.

“Where are you going?” he sighs, as amused as ever.

“Away from you,” you snap.

“You’re going the wrong way,” Aonung says, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he glances over your shoulder, and you attempt to shrug him off and continue in your way.

“Like I’d believe you,” you huff. “After you left Lo’ak outside the reef.”

“The village is back this way,” Aonung says tightly, his amusement starting to finally fade somewhat as you finally manage to shove him off and start storming the other way.

“Yeah, I don’t really trust you,” you call over your shoulder.

“Fine,” he shouts back. “Get lost then, I don’t fucking care. Maybe there’s an akula around here that can make itself useful and finish you off.”

At that, you stop. Chest heavily as you suspiciously contemplate what to do, you wonder vaguely why he’d lie. But also, him telling the truth and actually trying to get you back to the village doesn’t seem like a very likely possibility either. You squint suspiciously at him for a few moments, and he just glares straight back. Reluctantly, you let your arms drop to your sides and you do the walk of shame back towards him.

“Decided to trust me then freak?” he asks with a cocky little grin.

“Don’t make me regret it fishlips,” you say shortly.

As you storm away, you can feel Aonung’s gaze blazing into your skin, and after a few moments, you can’t take it any longer, rounding on him with narrowed eyes and folded arms.

“Can I help you?” you snap. “Is there a reason you keep staring at my body, or are you just planning new ways to call me a freak?”

Aonung rolls his eyes, though he looks a little abashed you caught him. When you’re clearly waiting for an response and it becomes clear his little scoff isn’t answer enough, he clears his throat and pastes a frown onto his face.

“You have a lot of scars,” he says, slightly awkwardly.

“Sorry, is that repulsive to you?” you snap. “Are my freakish blemishes blasphemous to the perfect prince? Would you like me to dress like a fucking nun so you don’t have to see my scars?”

“No,” Aonung says, his frown becoming more gentle, though he clearly doesn’t even know what a nun is. “That is not what I meant. I just… some are very big scars.”

“Yeah well,” you say off-handedly, trying not to let some of your bitterness into your voice as you lower your gaze to your body. You’d rather die than let him think you feel sorry for yourself. “You’re very sheltered in the reef, very safe. Not everyone gets that privilege.”

Aonung’s frown becomes a little more comprehensive, and he blinks a little. “What did they all come from?”

“Why are you so curious?” you snap defensively. “Because if you’re going to taunt me about that, you’re fucked up-”

“We have to train together for who knows how long,” Aonung cuts you off, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying we have to get along, you’re probably incapable of holding a conversation longer than two minutes without rage and violence anyway, but if we have to train all the time, I should know if you’re injured.”

“I’m fine,” you say shortly, tail wrapping defensively around your leg. “They’re all old anyway.” When Aonung’s clearly waiting for you to say more, you sigh and continue. “Mostly from training when I was younger, some from my iknimaya and encounters with animals in the forest.”

You hope to Eywa that’s all, because you don’t really feel like going into the nitty gritty of the other ones right now. Unfortunately, Aonung has a knack to do exactly what you don’t want him too.

“And this one,” he says, nodding to your hip. You freeze and shift uncomfortably. It’s hidden, as you’re always careful too, beneath the string of your tewng. A circular marr in the skin between your hip and stomach, perfectly round.

“What one?” you say, hoping he’s not talking about what you think of.

But he doesn’t just say it, point out that you’re hiding it, he reaches out and brushes his finger over the small bullet wound concealed under the delicate string of your tewng. Instantly, you flinch away and hiss, tail flicking up defensively and ready to fight by instinct. Aonung just drops his hand away, and you don’t need to even look at him to know he wants an explanation of it.

“It’s a bullet wound,” you sigh. “I was shot by an avatar in the forest, when we were ambushed. I was hit while escaping with Kiri.”

“Seems like something you should mention,” Aonung points out. “You know, getting shot seems kind of prudent.”

“I’m surprised someone so dense even knows that word,” you mutter to yourself, before speaking so he can hear. “It’s not that important really, I’m more focused on my family.”

“You were shot,” Aonung says, squinting at you as though confused. “And you’re thinking of your family?”

“Yes,” you say defensively, face feeling hot. “I mean, I had to protect them. Kiri and Lo’ak were scared, and I didn’t want Neteyam to get any blood on his hands-”

“And you have it then?” Aonung asks quietly. “Blood? On your hands?”

Your silence is answer enough, and his eyes widen slightly.

“We were at war,” you say stiffly, not quite sure why you’re trying to justify yourself to this skxawng. “I had to kill to survive, and I would happily kill to protect my family. I just did what was necessary.”

Aonung just stares at you. You wonder faintly if maybe you have something on your face, or maybe if your flight had made the wind blow your hair everywhere. Then you wonder why the fuck you’re even thinking about your appearance. It doesn’t make any difference to Aonung what you look like, you’re going to look like a freaky foreigner anyway.

“How’d you even see that anyway?” you ask dully, turning back and continuing to walk. He catches up beside you, staring down shamelessly. You feel a small pang of irritation that he can stare so casually; you’d have to lift your head up to glare at him, which seems like a lot of fucking effort when you don’t even want conversation.

“It’s pretty clear,” Aonung says, which doesn’t exactly clear things up. “It’s all pale and-”

“It’s always hidden,” you say stiffly.

“Well,” Aonung says, a certain slyness to his deep voice that makes you scowl and finally look up at him. “Only hidden when you’re wearing your tewng. So without it- OW!”

You storm ahead, having already whipped your tail across his chest and stomped on his stupid foot. You ignore the flush in your face, feeling stupid that you thought he wouldn’t mention it again. Stupid smug skxawng, needing to remind you that you fucked.

“You’re so childish sometimes,” he sulks, rubbing his chest, which now has a purplish streak from where your thin tail had whipped him.

“And what are you then?” you roll your eyes. “Because last time I checked, I wasn’t chatting about us fucking like some pathetic virgin.”

“You wish,” Aonung scoffs. “I was just saying it was interesting that no one else has seen you without your tewng yet-”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you say slyly. That finally shuts him the fuck up, and he stops dead in his tracks. When you look up to grin victoriously, his eyes are narrowed and his face is deader than you’ve ever seen it. The coldness in his eyes, the anger that you don’t quite understand, only fuels your triumph that you finally managed to wipe that smirk off his face. “What’s wrong? Upset you didn’t get the first hit of the pretty new thing?”

“I don’t like sharing,” Aonung says stiffly, and you scoff.

“Good,” you snap. “Because there isn’t anything to share, I’m not yours. I’m also not some delicate little nun, just because you think I’m a peculiar freak doesn’t mean other people find me unappealing-”

“Who?” he asks, his voice a crisp, cool rumble.

“Like I’d tell you,” you roll your eyes.

“They wouldn’t.”

“You’re a fucking hypocrite,” you hiss at his sharp words, stepping in to glare at him. Again. “You’re looking down on your other clan mates for fucking me when less than a day ago, you were fucking moaning under me. You got fucking hard by me shouting at you.”

You expect Aonung to get angry again. He looks like maybe he’s about to shove you, maybe yell at you, maybe even grab your kuru again. There’s a certain dark, cold anger in his eyes, the same one he always gets when this happens, when you’re close to him, shouting him down and glaring furiously. But then his scowling lips loosen into a small smirk, and you brace yourself for some infuriating stupidity.

“I only wish they did a good job,” he says coolly. “I don’t like you, but I can’t have you getting a poor idea of the Metkayina. Honour my clan, protect my people, you know.”

“Your interest in my sex life is suspicious Aonung,” you say, eyes narrowing as you try to figure out what he’s doing. “What should it matter to you? Because I know I didn’t ruin any standards for Omatikayan sex, not with the way you were moaning.”

“Was I disappointing to you princess?” Aonung smirks, not in the least deterred by your dig at him. “And don’t bother lying,” he adds amusedly, when you furiously open your mouth. “I was there. I felt the way you were squeezing me-”

“And you liked that, didn’t you.”

“Yes,” he says, unabashed. He’s staring down at you in a way that makes you deeply suspicious. “But if you want to be pleased, all you have to do is ask.”

“You don’t like me,” you point out. It’s a basic fact, a mutual one at that, and he just nods.

“No, I don’t like you,” Aonung says simply, casually. “But I can’t have you sauntering around with the worst opinion of me. Infuriating I can handle. Taunting, yes. Pestering, I try my best. Cocky, absolutely. But tiny-dicked, or unsatisfactory… I’d rather get shot too.”

“What are you suggesting then?” you say wearily, eyeing him suspiciously as his smirk widens. You didn’t mean to sound quite so open to ideas, but he certainly looked like he was about to suggest the hell out of something.

“Let’s cut the crap. We both left satisfied last night, and don’t lie to my face and pretend you’ve had better. You help me, I help you.”

“And what does that mean?”

“I’m not going to pretend I didn’t have a good time,” Aonung says bluntly, and you look at him in surprise. You weren’t at all expecting him to be so open, and somehow it doesn’t feel as satisfying as you’d hoped. Somewhere deep, you’re too suspicious about what he’s about to say next to feel any pleasure from his words. “And you know you’d be lying if you said you didn’t. No matter how many moans you bit back doesn’t change the fact your lips were bloody from trying to be quiet. Even when you closed your eyes, I could see them rolling back. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought princess, forgetting I could feel you clenching, hear your heavy breaths, your heartbeat-”

“Stop!” you snap, scrunching your face up to hide your embarrassment, to cover it up with yet another wave of irritation and shoving him hard in the chest. “Just SPIT IT OUT!”

“I can help you out,” Aonung says slyly. “And you help me, whenever we need… release.”

“What?” you snap. You scowl, then consider it. He had been good, if you’re listening to him and stop lying to yourself. Not just good. Eye rolly, leg shaky, heart thumpy good. So good that you had to physically bite yourself to stop yourself from letting him know just how good he was. And then you scowl again. “Are you sure you’ll be able to keep up, fish lips?”

Aonung rolls his eyes, but before you know what’s happened, he’s flipped you onto the ground. Body trapped under his, arms pinned above your head. Your faces are inches apart, eyes scanning over each other, his breath fanning hotly against your neck. You’re aware of your situation. He’s smarter this time, legs trapped under him, arms pinned back. You can’t escape. And you aren’t going to flatter him by trying to. Instead, you find yourself nodding imperceptibly, your legs spreading unconsciously. Traitors.

Aonung smirks and hitches himself up slightly so he can slide further down your body. His fingers trail over your body, over your waist and the darker blue stripes across your stomach.

“You’re so strange,” he taunts you.

“Arent you supposed to be proving some kind of point right now?” you point out. “Insulting and freak-shaming me isn’t exactly a great way to get into my pa-”

He’s got experience, that much is for sure. You can tell by his expert movements as he swiftly unties your tewng, or when you shift, and he reaches to pin your hips still against the sand. There’s a moment of self-consciousness where you squeeze your thighs, and he frowns up at you. Then his strong hands are muscling them apart, and before you know it, his face is buried between your thighs.

When his nose nudges again your clit and he licks a long stripe up your cunt, you let out a small hiss and immediately reach to grip at his braided hair. He’s obviously hell bent on proving himself, because when he points his tongue and darts it into you, your hips rut straight into his face. And to his credit, Aonung doesn’t protest or make any snide comment. He sticks to his job, and he does a damn good one at that. Which is infuriating, by the way.

Because he is smug about it. He’s mean with it. He never stays somewhere to long, and when you try to tug his head, he grins against you and closes his lips around your clit and sucks. Hard. In a way that makes your head spin, and the first time he does it, you can’t catch yourself before a loud whine escapes your lips. He ignores your tugging, choosing to move your hips to his leisure rather than putting in the copious effort of moving his now slicked, shining face.

But he knows he’s doing well. He can obviously tell, given the way you’re rutting against his lips and tongue and even fangs as though your life depends on it. When he slides in a finger, you clench so tight to it you might as well have tried strangling him. You have no patience for humiliation, you’ll deal with his certain taunting and teasing once you’ve cum so hard Eywa will blush.

You wonder blindly where the fuck he learnt all of this, and if he usually puts in this much effort for people. Other girls wouldn’t be as difficult to please, you conclude. He’s putting in the fucking work. Stupid skxawng. You’re humping your cunt into his mouth hard enough that you probably would have caused a pretty serious neck injury if he wasn’t stupidly, ridiculously massive, but he’s just pulling your ass even closer to the point your little whimpers that slip through your mouth are audible.

And then he’s pulling away. You scowl and gasp, reaching to tug his head back towards you, but he just laughs crudely and pins you back up against the sand. You squirm and struggle with him for a moment, but when his hips slot between yours and his tented tewng slides against your clit, you’re cut off with a lewd groan of frustration.

“So wet, aren’t you?” he taunts, grinning at your slick smeared across his tewng now. You make to protest, to snap at him or maybe even shout, but his hips roll fluidly against you again and you let out a humiliating whine. “So eager. You’re the fucking hypocrite, whining for me.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter, face flushed and trying to pretend like your voice wasn’t actually as hot and bothered as it came out.

“Just say the words,” Aonung mock-coos. You try to turn away, to break the stare, but his face just follows, and you continue to be trapped in that smug, blazing gaze. “Say them, and I’ll help you out.”

“You’re a fucking perv,” you hiss, trying to level your breath, but his hips roll against you again and your growl is cut off by another lewd moan.

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t the one losing her mind over a few touches,” he grins. “Go on freak, just say it.”

“Fine,” you snap, relenting when he digs you a little deeper into the sand with a slower thrust against your clit.

Aonung smirks, looking infuriatingly delighted by himself. There’s a minute where you want to smack him right then and there, drag him by the kuru and drown him and maybe even toss him off your ikran, but then there’s a deeper, more urgent desire to get your annoyance fucked out of you. Stupid horniness, getting in the way of perfectly logical plans of justified murder.

“What was that?” he grins, hefting you towards himself in a way that grinds him in the perfect spot, and you bite down the moan you nearly scream. “I need words.”

“Fuck me then,” you growl, frustration etched in every fibre of your being, in your words and face and glare. And especially in your aching core.

“On one condition,” Aonung says. He has some twisted enjoyment of this scene, you splayed out and half-naked below him, teeth sunk stubbornly into your lips, yet not strong enough to hold back the stream of frustrated, lewd whines that slip through your obstinate cracks.

“What,” you seethe, seconds away from strangling this skxawng with your kuru. He takes his sweet fucking time before responding, thoroughly enjoying your squirming figure below him as he lazily rolls his hips against you.

“You stop holding back those moans of yours,” he whispers, hot and heavy right against your neck. Where he can doubtless hear, even feel how urgent and desperate your pulse is. “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

You growl in frustration, pushing aimlessly at his shoulders in an attempt to do what you had yesterday, ride him until he was the one moaning and quailing beneath you. But his solid form stays stubbornly above yours, that stupid smirking face grinning right down at you.

“I thought this was about you trying to please me,” you grumble, letting your head fall back against the sand in irritation.

“You really are a brat,” Aonung grunts. His voice is getting more tense, eyes darkening further, and you realise all his attempts to tease you, all his efforts to drive you to a pleading point are edging him in the process. But you don’t have time to think of some sly plan, some way to taunt him later and a clever idea for now. You’re horny and impatient and you aren’t someone who takes teasing kindly. You aren’t one to give in easily, but you’ve protested enough.

“Fine then,” you huff, tossing your head so your hair’s out of your face. “Give me something to moan about, then we’ll see what happens.”

Aonung grins, finally sliding away long enough to disregard his tewng, and then he’s right back above you, lining himself up and holding your hips down to keep you still.

“You want something to moan about?” he grunts, snapping his hips forward in one fluid, deep movement, burying himself deep into you.

And you do. The sound you let out is a hoarse gasp, a breathless cry, but it’s strangled before it’s even fully out of your mouth. Aonung pulls out to the tip, where you’re gripping him so tight there’s no fucking possibility of him slipping out, before pushing back in with the force of a fucking rocket.

You aren’t even sure if you can moan, not when he’s literally fucking the breath out of you with each unrelenting, ravenous thrust. There isn’t much you can do, not much you think you’d be able to do regardless, when you’re pinned below him. You’re just being fucked further and further into the soft white sand, which feels like some ironic comfort to his insatiable pace.

But when he lifts your hips up a little, slamming into a new point that knocks a fucking cry out of you, you find your fist instinctively sinking into your mouth to hide it. Instantly, Aonung’s hand is pulling it carelessly away, eyes blazing as he pushes it away from your now vulnerably empty mouth.

“What did I say freak,” he snarls.

“You’re a fucking sadist,” you spit. “Calling me freak when you’re trying to fuck the breath out of me.”

“Call me what you like,” Aonung says carelessly. “Just don’t hold it back.”

And then, before you can snap back a retort, that familiar heat is growing again. Aonung can feel it too, by the way you’re clenching around him so tight you may as well be trying to strangle him. But there’s certain things you’re still trying to hide, especially now that you can’t even have your moans to yourself.

Like the way you’re watching his muscles ripple with each movements, arms tense and flexed beside you, back rippling and shoulders broad above your slimmer figure. When you think about his hands, the way just one could wrap easily around your whole throat, you moan like a fucking whore and tighten around him in a way that has him groaning.

And then finally, out of nowhere although it was a long time coming, the wave crests, and your vision fades to blinding white. You clench like a vice around Aonung, and he fucks out through it with deep, hungry thrusts. You’re barely aware of the face you’ve never come this hard in your life, or that you’re moaning loud enough on this echoey ass beach that the village can probably hear.

When you finally come down, Aonung’s let himself go. You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his final restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until he finally comes to a shaky stop.

You both breathe heavily for a moment, Aonung having decided to unceremoniously flop onto the sand (which mostly means his massive body is crushing you). When you finally have enough breath, and probably forty perent of your usual life, you weakly shove at him.

“Get off my skxawng.”

He obliges, grudgingly, rolling the last few inches so he’s flopped and spent beside you. Who’s also flopped and spent. Neither of you speak. You can’t think of anything to say, and you wonder vaguely if that’s just you being fucked out or your just lost for words.

“Have an answer yet?” he says after a long moment.

“We have to go to training,” is all you say, sitting up with a groan and sliding on your tewng. Aonung huffs a laugh, also sitting up and watching you struggle to clothe yourself.

“Of course,” he rolls his eyes. “Ow.”

You leave him there on the sand, striding away back to the village before his amused voice calls out behind you.

“You’re going the wrong way again skxawng!”

──────⊱⁜⊰────── ༊ Taglist: @hadesbabygurl @wavesarchive @kqlopsia @tadomikiku @ntymavtr @mommyanddadskiller @thehoneymushroomhealer @tsireyax @integers @tiyawnyana @whatevenisagrapefruit @oakbuggy @sunsetviper @blue-slxt @simplyawh0re @yootvi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean Okay let me know if i forgot someone hope you pookie pies enjoyed 🙃