Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You smooth the fabric over your thighs again. It’s a subconscious motion and one that always draws Aonung’s attention back to those strange clothes. It’s called a dress. Or at least that’s what it’s called according to Tsireya. He can’t fathom what the point is, just a top and loincloth strung together as one piece. Except, it’s different. Your dresses always come in funny colors and dance in the breeze until there is a peak of smooth skin unveiled in its wake. 

Ao’nung takes another swig.

Tuning back into Lo’ak’s story is hardly worth the effort. The other male always exaggerates the events and it’s commonly accompanied by his sister swooning over every word. The worst is when his four fingered alien hand intertwines with her own and Ao’nung has to hold back vomit just from seeing the way she bats her lashes at him. They’re happy. He can accept that, but that doesn’t mean he is ready to welcome his future brother-in-law any time soon. It would be easier if Lo’ak wouldn’t grate on his nerves so often. 

You’re captivated by the story, large eyes barely blinking as you soak in every detail of Lo’ak’s most recent voyage. It doesn’t mean much, or at least it shouldn’t. From experience he has learned that it takes very little to fascinate your tawtute [human] brain. On occasion even the eldest Sully child entertains you with dumb jokes spoken in a language he can not understand. Neteyam has never been that funny in Na’vi. Ao’nung doubts that fact would be any different in the Sky People language.

So your attention is easily caught. 

At least by everyone else it appears. It’s clear that he is an exception from this rule. Your glances are fleeting and usually followed by those small eyes shifting to stare at the floor. You either hate him or believe he is about to rip your throat out with his teeth. A silly notion because if that’s what he wanted, you already would have been dead weeks ago. Most likely three weeks ago when you arrived on that metal sea monster with the rest of the human outpost scientists. 

That ugly metal cave sits on the outskirts of the village. It’s hard to look at. 

“Took you weeks to sleep after that.” Your voice snags his train of thought. You’re leaning forward, not bothering to hold back a giggle as Neteyam glares back at you. Glare is too strong of a word, this look is far from the one Neteyam uses to warn off predators. It’s softer, his nose scrunching up and eyes shining with the hints of amusement. 

“Your memory is foggy.” Neteyam insists, leaning back against a tree as he continues to roast a fish on a spit. 

“It’s hard to forget having to share my little bed with an overgrown Na’vi for two weeks. You came in almost every night asking to stay over. Two of the legs on my bed broke from the weight.” Despite your words, there are specks of fondness in your tone. 

According to Rotxo you practically grew up with the Sullys. Your separation from them only began when the family left to come live here, seeking uturu [sanctuary;refuge] . Like close siblings, Rotxo had described it. Perhaps he is right if Neteyam felt comfortable enough to be sharing a bed with you every night for weeks. 

“You are one to talk, considering the way you still cling to that precious bunny every night in your sleep.” Neteyam’s smirk is lit dimly by the fire, Lo’ak laughing to the right of him. 

“Bunny?” Ao’nung asks, mouth sluggish in pronouncing the foreign word. The cup of pxir [alcohol/fermented fruit] almost slips from your hands. You scramble to keep it from spilling. 

“It’s a small animal from Earth. Fluffy little thing with big ears.” Neteyam goes on to explain, completely ignoring the way you tug at his arm. You're whispering under your breath in that bizarre language again and it makes Ao’nung’s teeth grind. Why do you switch between the two so often? Has he somehow forfeited the right to hear what you have to say?

“And this animal now lives here? In the cave?” Ao’nung asks slowly and Lo’ak snorts. No doubt he means to remind him again what the human’s home is called but he is not about to memorize the word now so Lo’ak might as well save his breath. 

“Well that’s the thing, the bunny isn’t even real.” Lo’ak jumps in and this time your fierce attention is turned on him.

“Lo’ak.” Your bare foot kicks at his leg. It barely moves under the force. 

“It’s just a toy that looks like a bunny.” 

You are grabbing for his cup this time, standing up to lean over him as he tries to keep it out of your reach. With the way you swat at it, it’s most likely going to result in it being spilled all over the grass instead of finding its way in your grasp. Lo’ak hisses slightly, using one leg to keep you back and his other stretched out to protect his drink. 

Neteyam smirks at whatever hushed comments you are making at his brother. 

“Fil [toy].” Ao’nung repeats. His hands trail to clasp his knees, leaning forward to observe the bizarre scene before him. This may just be one of the most confusing conversations he has ever had in the Sully’s presence. The fabric of your dress puffs out and with your wrestling it now rides up to tease the bottom of your backside. 

Ao’nung doesn’t dare blink. 

“Oh not just any toy.” Neteyam calls from the other side of the log. It peaks your attention his way instead. “No this one she guards with her life. Can’t spend one silly night without her stuffed bunny.” His words shift into a mocking coo and it earns him a slap to the back of his head. 

Lo’ak looks like he is about to interject once more but you point a tiny finger at him and whisper another string of Sky People words. Neteyam is better at hiding his laughter, lips curved into a smile as he takes another swig of strong drink. 

It’s hard to know what to make of this information, even more so your reaction. However, when you flash a glance in his direction it once again only lasts for a second before you are looking away and sitting down with a huff. The bottom of your dress does that dancing thing again when you plop down to sit. You must have let the Sky Demons prick you with that stick that lets you breathe Pandoran air today because a mask no longer distorts the view of your cheeks that are painted a soft pink color. 

Ao’nung is unsure of what he did to deserve your ire, but he can’t be blamed for asking questions. It’s only fair considering how much Neteyam and Lo’ak already know about you, with not a scrap of information thrown his way. By Eywa, it seems Neteyam even gets to visit your living quarters every night if his story is anything to go by. He gets to invade your personal space and even see your strange bunny toy thing. 

But Ao’nung…

Ao’nung is punished for even trying to get to know you. He is slapped by your evasion and complete disregard for him. Why can’t you be more like Lo’ak? If you hate him so much, why not just throw a punch already.

No, a swing from that tiny hand would feel like nothing more than a pinch. Even if it didn’t shatter upon impact you wouldn’t even be able to reach his face. The mental image of you jumping to reach is almost enough to soften his permanent frown.

………………………………………..

Ao’nung is pulling in the last net of the day when he spots the commotion. A steady stream of Sky People and a few Na’vi trail from that giant sea monster and over towards your metal cave. They each are carrying some a weird trinket or another. Lo’ak is running his mouth as per usual while following behind Neteyam with some sort of strange box. The thing in Neteyam’s arms is even more peculiar, a long rectangle shape with curving twigs jutting out randomly. 

The net is long abandoned, Ao’nung’s tail curving as he approaches. 

“Oh good, you’re here.” Neteyam sighs, setting down the box. 

“Didn’t really peg you as the type to help.” Lo’ak teases, earning him an elbow in the ribs from his older brother. 

“Ignore him.” Neteyam dismisses. “This dresser goes to Y/N’s room. Third door on the right.” 

“Wha-”

“Trust me you’ll know it when you see it. Norm wants help with the last Link Bed.” The words are barely thrown over his shoulder as he jogs back to the metal beast and when Ao’nung turns he finds that Lo’ak is gone too. He’s not really sure how he got roped into helping these Sky Demons finish unpacking. The temptation to just leave this ‘dresser’ wedged in the sand is strong but….

Neteyam says it goes in your room. 

There’s no denying the spark of curiosity that lights at this opportunity. Besides, after all of Neteyam’s bragging there really is no reason why he gets to be the only person to see your strange little marui. He’s the Olo’eyktan’s son, the future chief and leader of the Metkayina. If anyone has a right to investigate the new human cave, it’s him. Your tiny corner included. 

Although a little awkward  to carry, the dresser is human sized so Ao’nung manages to tuck it under his arm and stroll towards his destination. He almost considers abandoning the trip entirely when it takes help from one of the Sky Demons to operate the door and slip a mask around his neck. It tangles easily with his tail and it takes several minutes to unknot the tube and figure out how to properly sip air from it.

Crouching through the hallway is uncomfortable, especially with the dresser tucked under his arm. This metal cave is nothing like the real caves he is familiar with. The lighting is bright but not warm. The air smells like death and every machine and piece of furniture is boxy. No color. No life. Ao’nung has seen tombs prettier than this place. 

His nose scrunches as Sky Demons scamper around him left and right. Which door did Neteyam say it was? Has he even been keeping track? Ao’nung frowns with a huff. It doesn’t matter. Neteyam’s directions are poorly crafted and useless. It’s better to find your room his own way. 

A task that proves to be easier than anticipated. Music filters from down the hall. That is, if it can be called music. A sweet voice accompanies the sound and if there is any doubt about the singing coming from you, your floral scent is there to seal the deal. He bends just barely under the doorway, taking care to keep his steps smooth and silent. 

Ao’nung can’t quite remember why he has decided to sneak up to your bedroom like a predator lurking towards its prey but he does know that the resulting image is more rewarding than he could have imagined. 

Last night’s dress is replaced by a white little top and purple shorts. The hem of the shorts are ruffled into squiggly lines, much like the waves of the ocean. They tease just over the curve of your ass, barely containing the plump flesh from his gaze. Your hair isn’t curled and braided neatly like last night either. Instead it's pulled back so the entirety of it swings with every bob of your head. A hairdo that looks like it was thrown together while blindfolded and so much messier than anything the Metkayina would wear and yet…those tiny strands that fall out of formation onto your face make his heart racket. 

Ao’nung has no interest in making himself known as you carelessly sing and bounce atop your bed. You stop every now and then to try and pin some sort of fabric over the cold interior of your bedroom walls. Lifting up onto your toes as you belt out the melody in a strange tongue makes those shorts just barely rise up far enough to expose the underside of your bum. His fingers struggle to remain curled under the dresser’s bottom edge as they dampen. 

One little spin is all it takes to swirl the moment into chaos. One second you are turning to belt out the highest note of the song and the next, that note screeches into a scream and you’re tumbling to the floor. Instinctively Ao’nung goes to put the dresser down and help you up but he stops himself. That would only frighten you further, maybe even get you bolting away. 

Though there is nowhere for you to go with his massive frame blocking the doorway. 

“Ao’nung!” You stutter, pushing hair out of your face while scrambling to your feet. Those small fingers reach to the back, tugging down the hem of your shorts properly. 

“Kaltxi tawtute [hello human] .” He responds, eyes warrily watching you for any signs of running. 

“Sorry I-I thought that…well I was just….”

“This goes here.” Ao’nung interrupts your rambling. Finally you look down to see what is tucked under his arm. 

“Oh yes, my dresser! Irayo [thank you] , Ao’nung.” He follows your hasty directions on where to put it. You’re very particular about the placement, tucking it into the corner further even after he has set it down. The legs scrape as you struggle to inch it backwards. A smile tugs at his lips, watching the way you throw your whole body into the action until your feet are slipping along the floor. 

“Almost there.” You grunt. 

Ao’nung kicks it into place and you tumble to the floor once more. He’s not sure what to say to your delayed thank you and now the doorway is unblocked. It’s then that he realizes this is the longest conversation the two of you have ever had. In fact, this is the first time he has ever got to be alone with you. And you haven’t run or screamed in his presence. Well, you did scream but it wasn’t followed by calls for help or demanding that he leaves.

And Ao’nung doesn’t want to leave. So he does what he set out to do, investigate your little abode. 

“Yeah I think it will look good there. Just enough space to still open the drawers and get by.” You’re still facing the dresser and talking as he walks through the cramped space. It’s far less glamorous than the beautiful maruis that dot the village. Much like the rest of the tawtute shelter it’s small and fixed with weird furniture that is dull to the eye. Except…even with your tiny bed and small living space there is something very different about your corner of this metal home. 

The boring walls that show signs of rusting metal have been covered with draping fabrics, spots where damage has been done now are fixed with little paintings and tiny pictures to conceal it. Where the rest of the outpost is dull and lifeless your room is full of color and comfort. Strange little shiny objects are carefully placed along your desk, bursts of pink and purple sprouting from every corner of the room. Even the tiny window you have is draped with floral curtains that still let the sunshine in. The tiny fluff that your people call a bed is covered in a squishy blanket that has lace frills and plethora of giant pillows still scattered from the disarray of your jumping earlier. 

And then, poking out from underneath a pillow….

“Oh!” You squeak, spotting the object now clasped in his right hand.

“This is the toy.” Ao’nung says, only half heartedly looking for confirmation. These bunny creatures are weird. They are brown with long ears and a furry coat. What he isn’t expecting, however, is to find that much like Sky People, bunnies opt to wearing ridiculous layers of clothing. The toy wears a floral dress, complete with a matching hat and little jacket. 

The only thing more unnatural than tawtute’s weird obsession with covering up is seeing a wild animal do the same. 

“Oh yeah you mean what Neteyam was saying earlier.” Your words tumble out almost as fast as you tumble onto the bed. “He lies a lot though, it’s not the truth. Well, I mean it is the truth but not exactly how he said it. Yes, it’s a toy but I don’t need to sleep with it every night.” He’s too distracted by the squishy object to notice the way you attempt to reach it out of his hands. “I mean technically most nights I do but that is more of a….shit I don’t know if there’s a word for that in Na’vi….um….It’s just nice to have around. Point is I don’t need it. I’m perfectly capable of sleeping without some silly toy.” Your voice pitters into a nervous laugh and Ao’nung finally looks down at where you still reach for the object. 

He doesn’t hand it over. 

“Neteyam and Lo’ak just like to poke fun, that’s all.” The claim is topped off with a jittery smile. 

“It looks like you.” Ao’nung says.

“What?” You draw back, hands finally falling back to your sides. This time he doesn’t bother fighting his itching smirk as he gently tugs on the bunny’s dress. “Oh! You mean because of the dress !” The laughter is hardly sincere but this is the longest you have ever kept your eyes on him before. “Yeah that’s just a silly little thing I made for it.”

“Why?”

Blunt teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Oh it’s just…cute.” You rise onto the balls of your feet momentarily before plopping back down and intertwining your weak fingers together. “I actually make all of my clothes too.” The bed squeaks when you hop down and pad over to the desk. A strange machine sits there with the tiniest spear Ao’nung has ever seen. “It’s a sewing machine.”

“What?” He deapans.

“It’s how I make all of my clothes…and the ones for the bunny I suppose.” Those ruffled giggles are not the same ones he’s heard from your lips around the fire after Neteyam’s bad jokes. “I help make clothes for my coworkers too. Kind of running out of stuff from Earth and no one else knows how to work the sewing machine so….” 

He’s lost your attention again. Like a frightened fish your eyes won’t stop jumping from one place to the next and still never landing on him for more than a few seconds. 

Annoyance prickles at his skin, lips turning dowards but Ao’nung tries his best to push down the rising emotion. It takes next to nothing to scare you off so getting upset now would only make things worse. 

“But it helps to have a purpose, you know?”

Purpose. Yes, he knows everything there is about purpose. Every day he wakes up and fulfills his duty, his purpose, bringing him that much closer to taking over as Olo’eyktan and following the path Eywa has set for him. When he’s Olo’eyktan will you still look away from him? Still avoid him at every turn with tinted cheeks? What if he commands you to stay? Demands that you stop shuddering away from him?

You couldn’t possibly hide from him then. Especially not when he would be the man in charge of whether or not these tawtute can stay. 

“Okay I admit it’s a small purpose but-”

Ao’nung steps past you, pushing back a door that reveals a flurry of colorful fabrics. They hang from a beam and it takes him a moment to realize these are all of your dresses. He takes another sip of air from his mask.

“Oh I’m still organizing it.” You call from over his shoulder. 

So many prints and textures. Each dress ends in some sort of ruffle or frill that never fails to catch his attention. Picking one hanger up it seems even more obvious how short these are. Delicate little things that are anything but practical. 

“It’s…fluffy.” Ao’nung finishes, in lack for a better word. 

“That’s lace.” You inform him, pointing to the trim along the bottom. “It’s pretty.” A small smile traces your lips. 

“Strange.” It’s all he says before struggling to hang it back on the rack. After the fourth try he stiffens at the feel of your something soft brushing his stomach. It’s your bound hair, smoothing past him as you timidly squeeze past to put the dress on the rack for him. The second the wire is wrapped around the beam once more you are darting out past him. Skittish little thing, you are. 

A crash sounds from the front entrance, followed by several groans and Sky People curses. It seems now is a good time to take his leave. Ao’nung signs a polite goodbye and forces himself to exit your little haven. Your own goodbyes are hardly more than a whisper. After another fight with the stupid wires from the mask he is more than relieved to finally be in the outside air again. 

…………………………..

“And we could ask Parnu to join I think. A bit young yeah but he’s brought in some mighty catches over the past week so…” Rotxo trails off, hairless brows coming down to glare at Ao’nung. “Is now a bad time?” He deadpans.

“Does she not know how to swim?” Ao’nung ignores the question, eyes set far past Rotxo’s shoulder. The rest of the Sullys are collecting shells off at the far bank. Lo’ak more so seeing how many times he can catch Tsireya off guard and throw her in. Even Neteyam comes back with hardly any reward to show for his efforts. But you…

You’re perched atop a towel on the shore, throwing a laugh or smile in their direction when prompted. Today’s dress is purple and it fans around your thighs while you work on making a flower chain. Your strangely colored hair has little pieces of fabric tied around it to create small bows. 

“Maybe not.” Rotxo mutters, seeming anything but interested in their shift of subject. 

“Why not?”

Rotox pinches the bridge of his nose, carelessly throwing the paddle down into the canoe. “I don’t know. Maybe tawtute don’t like to swim.” He shrugs.

“That is foolish.” Ao’nung retorts, thick arms crossing over his chest as his face scrunches. “The ocean is dangerous. There are no exceptions made for frightened tawtute.” He finishes with flared nostrils. 

“Um…ok.” Rotxo’s response is nothing more than background noise as he notices the eldest Sully swimming towards the shore. Neteyam bounds across the sand, making a beeline towards you. Your reflexes are incredibly lagged so by the time you finally scramble to your feet and begin running, it’s too late. The distant sound of giggling shrieks echoes over the cove, Ao’nung’s ear straining to hear it over the rhythmic waves. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised though. The Sky Demons are…different. They don’t always do things the same way.” Rotxo continues. 

Neteyam catches you within a few strides. He grabs you around your waist and spins you on axis. Like spreading wings the skirt of your dress twirls out into a dramatic display. Once finally put down onto your feet Neteyam shakes his braids out in your direction as you try to veer away. The scene is almost sickening to watch as the two of you work together in some awkward dance along the sand. 

In fact, it does make him sick. That can be the only explanation for how his stomach drops like a rock in the sea. Like siblings, Rotxo had said. As if. 

“Oh okay fine. I guess you don’t want to organize the hunting party then. I-”

Rotxo’s complaints are drowned out the second Ao’nung’s head is submerged back in the salty water. It cools his heated skin, gliding through the vibrant reefs before swiftly making it to the shallows. To drag the knife deeper he comes to find that the two of you are once again speaking in that Eywa forsaken Sky Demon language. It grates on his ears, especially Neteyam’s accented voice. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise at this point when you immediately fall silent and look away from him. Neteyam continues talking while you stray to stand behind him. No doubt you’ve caught sight of Ao’nung’s presence and it once again has shut you up like a clam. 

“Hey fish lips.” Neteyam waves a hand towards him. Maybe on another day Ao’nung would accept the gesture. The forest boy is not all that bad once given time to grow on people but today all he can see is the way you peek out from behind him. The way you won’t even look in Ao’nung’s direction while Neteyam gets to spin you around in that pretty demon dress without a care in the world. “Where are you going?”

An excuse is on the tip of his tongue.

But Ao’nung hesitates. He turns on his heel. You may be insistent on avoiding him at all costs but why should he have to follow that? He’s the future Olo’eyktan after all. If he wants to see you, he will see you. SImple as that. 

“Some of us have duties to fulfill, forest boy.” Today the nickname carries less of its usual friendliness. 

“Well, we are celebrating the official unboxing of the outpost. And since you did help…” Neteyam trails off into a smirk. “Join us.” 

Ao’nung isn’t sure if you are trying to be discreet with your protests. The way you tug on Neteyam’s hand, even the glare that is sent his way. How could you ever expect him to not notice?

“I’ve done enough swimming for today.”

“That’s fine.” Neteyam shrugs. “You can keep Y/N company. After all she does kind of owe you after the dresser-” He snorts to hold in the laugh as you jab him from behind. 

When Ao’nung’s head tilts to the side, that's when you are caught. Finally your eyes meet his and there is nowhere for you to run. 

“Only if you want. I know you’re busy with the uh Olo’eyktan duties and…well not Olo’eyktan yet of course. Future Olo’eyktan duties…which is definitely a big job so I understand if you can’t. I’m…I’m not really doing much just sitting and enjoying the sun. But you can join me of course.” You whip around to point at the towel you were previously occupying. “The towel is a little small but-”

“I’m sure you can make room.” Neteyam cuts in with a grin. Your jaw clenches for half a moment. 

“Of course you can stay, Ao’nung. I am thankful…for your help, the other day.”

There seems to be no end to the number of little phrases and corrections you can add on to your sentences. They tumble together like a messy little song. It’s amusing to say the least. 

“Well, you two have fun.” Neteyam says, adjusting his cummerbund before running back to the others. Your mouth is left agape, never getting a chance to sway Neteyam to another decision. Ao’nung, however, can’t say he mourns the other male’s presence. He can feel the natural roll of his shoulders as they finally release that coiled tension. 

Small feet slowly turn you around to face him again, a quivering smile over those soft pink lips. 

Ao’nung wasn’t lying about having other duties to return to. If he leaves now there will be more time to relax tonight, wind down from the never ending tasks thrown upon him. But tonight….you most likely won’t be here shifting from foot to foot with a glimmer of unease. It’s time that you learn to face your silly fears. Ao’nung is tired of hiding away simply because you are a skittish tawtute. 

“He can be kind of insufferable sometimes.” Your tiny toes toy at the sand. 

“Many times.” Ao’nung corrects, taking two fluid steps closer. To your surprise his destination is not your sad spot on the towel but rather past you to where he has spotted a drifting canoe. Regardless, Ao’nung takes great care in strategically curving his path just close enough to brush past your shoulder. 

The canoe has barely made it a few yards from where it was supposed to be tied up to the rocks. Within a few strokes he has reached it and begins dragging it back into place. Wet bun dropping specks of saltwater down the shifting muscle of his back he expects to turn and find you’ve run for escape. Instead, while his fingers work on creating a firm knot to the canoe, he sees that your attention has finally been caught. 

Doe-eyes watching and lips parted, you are frozen in place. Perhaps it’s the shock, the silly little fear that has your body doing the last thing it should do upon seeing a predator. He rolls his eyes. You would never survive a night on Pandora without your metal cave to crawl into. 

You’ve been given the perfect chance to make a run for it, but you haven’t. Maybe you respect his upcoming title after all. 

“Come.”

You blink erratically, snapping out of your daze. 

“Oh um…” You’re fidgeting again, can’t stay still for more than a moment. 

“Come here, tawtute.” He repeats, waving a large hand his way. The water’s surface just barely teases at his upper abdomen, allowing him to stand easily against the ocean’s push and pull. In your case however…well he can only imagine that a creature barely reaching his hip in height would have no hope of touching the sandy bottom. 

“Irayo Ao’nung but…I think I’m good over here.” 

Ao’nung raises a swirled brow, hand falling to his hips. Without another word you start to edge closer. Tentative steps that bring you close enough to feel the tickle of approaching seawater at your toes. And then further and further. Ao’nung has seen sea snails move faster than you are now. You’re terrible at masking your apprehension although it appears you still try. 

Your brave little pursuit is put to a halt when your knees are just barely hitting the surface. Eyes cast downwards you can see the way the substrate sloops down dramatically just one step forwards. Arms circled around your own waist you send him perhaps the weakest smile he has received from you yet. 

“You can not swim.” The simple statement wipes that smile off immediately. He waits to see if you will bother denying it. If there was any doubt before this would have been enough to confirm it. By the stars, why would you knowingly move to an island of all places without knowing how to swim? Do you not understand how easily a single wave could swoop you to the sea’s depths? Especially something so small and fragile like you. 

The sea holds just as much beauty as it does danger. 

“I suppose…not technically.” Those pink cheeks have spread that warmth to your entire face now. Today it seems you’ve opted away from the breathing serum so your face is covered by a mask. Even then, the change in color is easy to see. 

“If you want to live here you must learn.” Tone drowned with a stern inflexion, Ao’nung tries to control his breathing. “You will not survive. The sea gives and takes .” It will take you. That truth is lodged in his throat, just barely keeping it at bay as your vibrant eyes blink back at him. 

“I-I know. I’m sorry I-”

Your name echoes in the distance. Lips parting once more it seems you are about to say something else, perhaps finish your endless rambling but it never comes. As fast as your feet can carry you, you sprint off towards the rocks where the rest of the Sullys reside. 

Ao’nung tries to push the interaction to the back of his mind as he rides his Tsurak, scaring away unwanted predators so the rest of the group can forage for seagrass. It’s difficult, however, to do such a thing when he is constantly reminded of the sea’s dangers by every creature with sharp teeth swimming his way. Even if you did know how to swim it feels as if some of these animals could swallow you whole without issue. 

How could you be so reckless? Or perhaps you are simply naive. You, in your pretty little dresses that are bound to catch on coral and tear. You and your tiny bows in your hair do nothing more than call attention to yourself. Those tiny feet that could barely take a few hesitant steps into the water before scampering away. 

You’re going to die. 

It’s positively inevitable at this point. 

But maybe with the right teacher…

You could learn, adapt. The rest of the Sully family did it so why would you be any different? He’s not foolish enough to believe you could take on the full extent of the Metkayina lifestyle, but that’s ok. You don’t need to. Just a few lessons that would have you at least competent in the water. 

And there is no better teacher on the island than him. Within a few days he could have you swimming circles around the Sully kids. Even if it takes longer, Ao’nung can surely shift his schedule to make room for you. Because he is a caring male, the perfect picture of a future leader. Out of the kindness of his heart he is going to teach even a silly tawtute like you how to avoid sudden death in the waters. 

It’s with that resolve that Ao’nung finds himself stomping towards that metal cave. 

……………………

Certain circumstances are simply out of his control. He wouldn't have needed to keep visiting that Eywa forsaken metal cave if you had just stopped avoiding him around the village. And therefore never would have got his hands on this ridiculous object. 

The small stuffed bunny sits atop his hammock bed motionlessly. 

Neteyam claims you have a severe attachment to this inanimate object but if that were true would he really have found it in the outpost hallway abandoned? It wouldn’t surprise him to find out that the other male has exaggerated such details. 

However, he saw the way you clutched onto the toy for dear life. Ao’nung had never meant to walk in on such a scene, or in this case peek through the window, but it has been difficult to predict which hours you would be home. 

His ears twitch as he prowls forward, gently poking at the strange object. What is the comfort to be found in such an useless object? What is it about this toy that makes you feel safe? What protection could a stuffed Sky People creature provide against predators in the night? Nothing. Absolutely nothing and yet you continue to treat it like some fierce warrior. You cling to it like one does a lover in their marui. In a hammock where they should be. 

A heavy sigh exhales from his lungs. The action causes his nostrils to flare and just then he catches the most potent scent. 

This idiotic bunny smells like you. 

His hand harshly clasps around it immediately, bringing the soft thing to his nose. Dark lashes flutter as Ao’nung’s stomach twists. Your essence is sweet, sweet like everything else about you. So delicate and fragile it makes his teeth grind and threaten to break. 

It’s soft too. Not in the same way your skin is but it still reminds him of you. Or at least, the way he imagines you must be silky and smooth yet Ao’nung holds no such evidence to support his claim. Because you won’t let him within ten feet of you without finding an excuse to leave or darting away as if he hasn’t already noted your presence. 

The toy’s dress is rumpled in his fist, wrinkled in the same way your own dress was the other day. The same way it teases up your thighs to reveal that milky untouched skin. For such a small thing your shape is truly a wonder. Every curve of your body is dramatic enough as it is, even without your strange tops that cinch together at the waist or frilly skirts that spin in the humid air. 

From your chest to hips to thighs there is more squishy flesh there than he has ever observed on a woman before. Those curved thighs are so plump that they often rub together when you walk. They had been clamped together when he was tying up that canoe. You may not be known for your strength but something tells him that you could squeeze him between them so tightly. 

His curly head of hair caught in your thigh’s vice like grip…

Saliva gathers along his tongue.

Or better yet, his cock strangled by that squishy flesh. Great Mother above, that would easily tip him over the edge. The difference in texture between his strong shape and your spongey little form would feel like ecstasy in the palm of his hand. You would be pleasure incarnate in his large hands. 

The seagrass tewng [loincloth] is wrestled off of his body within a few grunts. Ao’nung doesn’t let go of the bunny as his other hand comes down to tug his length harshly. The first swipe of his thumb over the bulbous head has him muffling a deep moan into the toy’s furr. 

How long has he been worked up like this?

When was the last time he got true relief?

He can’t tell, can’t recall the last time has even been with another woman but he does know one thing. Your hands would feel so much better. Those odd looking hands would hardly have a hope of wrapping fully around him, but they would be soft. Even better they would be accompanied by wide eyes that glimmer up at him with timid hesitancy. 

Perhaps he would let you flounder for a while, see what you truly know about pleasuring a man before he comes in to guide you. He can see your shy little expression now, blinking up at him with those dark lashes and funny brows pinching together. Ao’nung doesn’t know much about your dating history. He has no idea whether or not a male has ever attempted to court you but in his fantasies he can see a world where that has never occurred. A highly unlikely scenario considering the way you are shaped like a small goddess but it’s his fantasy and he has a right to believe whatever insanity he would like.

In Ao’nung’s world, he is the first male to share your bed. The first male to watch the way you would struggle to untie a tewng from a tail. The first male to hitch up that naughty skirt and bury himself inside of the treasure underneath. 

Ao’nung collapses atop the woven hammock, fist working at a diligent pace now. 

It would take time for you to work up to his size. However, your thighs could be a good substitute in the meantime. He’d help you hold them together and watch the way his turquoise cock would would create a beautiful contrast against your light skin, snuggled in the warmth of your impractical body. It would give him the ideal view of your rapidly rising and falling chest. Covered by a layer of what you call lace, your hardened nipples would just barely create an outline in the dainty fabric. 

Sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip. His hips no longer have the patience to stay in place. 

Maybe once he has painted your soft thighs with his shiny cum and imprinted his grip into pretty bruises he could help you tuck down that skirt again. Wobbly legs would barely carry you across the sand so you would be forced to cling to him for support as he’d show you off around the village. Your mingled scents would be obvious to the average Na’vi but you wouldn’t have to know that. It could act like a little secret. No one the wiser of the dirty deeds hidden beneath the hem of your ruffled skirt. 

Ao’nung finishes with the bunny pressed against his nose, your unique essence carrying him up and over a much deserved release. 

A salty breeze drifts through the marui. It soothes over his skin as he lays awake, blinking up at the foundation above. His mind slowly comes to settle and in its place it leaves a window open for revelation to strike.

……………

Everything about you is impractical. From your frilly dresses to erotic but clumsy body it’s clear that you require help. And a lot of it. You’ll never learn to live a fully Metkayina life nor will you suddenly show interest and master the ways of those lab coat tawtute. To make matters worse you’ve decided to live on an island without the ability to even swim. 

You  are a danger to yourself. 

Except, there is still a way for you to survive. 

What you need is someone that will look after you. The Sully boys may often try but Lo’ak is too focused on worshiping the waves Tsireya swims through. And Neteyam…well Ao’nung would rather not think about Neteyam playing your protector. At one point or another it is going to take a very strong and very capable mate to keep you safe. 

And there is no one more capable than himself. 

He can catch enough fish for the both of you. He can teach you how to swim. He can warn off approaching predators, even keep you from drowning or falling to your death because you’ve decided to wear these ridiculous clothes that trip you up. And when he comes to be Olo’eyktan there is not a soul among the clan or humans for that matter that would dare question his choice of mate. 

He is the perfect choice. 

You’re impractical, but that’s okay because Ao’nung has enough logic for the both of you. 

And you….

You possess more than enough to make him happy as well. That fact is one that becomes more undeniable with every passing day. Including every day that you continue to escape his company. 

It’s been two days since he has plucked your toy bunny from the outpost hallway. Two days of fishing for rare purple pearls. Two days of watching you rush away with pink cheeks and weak excuses. Two days of prepping the remodel of his marui. And two days that your scent has grown weaker and weaker in that toy’s furr as Ao’nung has fucked up into his fist. 

Everything is almost in place, luckily. There are whispers of your constant searching, news that Ao’nung always finds a way of prompting towards him. It seems that despite your frantic protests, you do in fact require this silly thing in order to sleep. To get it back, however, you will need to retrieve it from his marui and when you do that will mean finally facing him. And then, this little game of cat and mouse will come to an end. 

Ao’nung carefully finished the clasp on the tiny necklace. From the glimpses he has gotten of your room it’s obvious that your favorite color is purple. And since you love pretty things and can not swim to forage for them yourself, Ao’nung has taken it upon himself to retrieve and string together the rare purple pearls. With a small gem in the middle it will look exquisite across your collar bones. 

Admittedly the task has taken him longer than anticipated. His thick fingers struggle to close around a piece of jewelry so incredibly small. Naturally it isn’t enough to defeat him. Tsireya has taught him more than he ever wanted to know about crafting clothing and now he has finally found a use for it. 

The other little trinkets are meant to sway you further. It’s clear you have very specific tastes. You’ve spent more time decorating that little corner of the outpost than anyone Ao’nung has ever known to do on their own marui. You like things that are soft in color and touch, things that glitter under the sun’s light. The tawtute trinkets you use are bizarre. There are more than enough beautiful items lurking beneath the sea’s surface if you would only learn to dive for them.

If you are going to be his mate however, and his you will be ,  it’s important you feel compelled to stay in his abode. So he’s dug up more shells and gems in the past few days than he has in months. He has found way to craft fluffy pillows that cushion his hammock. He has even taken it upon himself to scavenge for extra fabric to create light purple curtains for the entrance. The lab coat tawtute that had the misfortune of helping him search for fabric looked as if he was ready to pass out from fright. 

It’s not perfect by any means, but you can always finish the job yourself. The important thing is that you are compelled enough to prefer sleeping in his arms over the puffy bed in that metal cave. 

The bunny remains carefully perched atop the pillows. 

His captive.

The most ridiculous bait he has ever set. 

Lo’ak spends more time at Tsireya’s marui than his own. It’s annoying but today it serves his purposes perfectly. Carrying a mighty fish for his sister’s table, Ao’nung finds Lo’ak tending to one of the Sky Demon weapons. Although the pair have never truly come to disperse the tension between them there is enough of a polite front for Ao’nung to plant the seeds of his plan.

With as much nonchalance and craft that he can conjure Ao’nung steers their conversation towards you and naturally it falls upon your desperate search for the stuffed animal. Lo’ak rolls his eyes and laughs a little at your antics but there is a level of concern easily detectable too. So with a shrug, Ao’nung informs him of his successful ‘find’ and how you can come to pick it up. 

He leaves without waiting for a response. 

It’s possible Lo’ak is suspicious. Maybe he won’t even carry the message on. And eclipse has long fallen to the point where you may just be asleep, but hope resides regardless. Eywa has placed you poor helpless thing in his lap and Ao’nung has done everything he can to prove his worthiness of such a gift, so there is no point in stressing over where fate will take this now. 

And tonight, it takes you to his marui.  

A little tapping sound sends his tail spiking in alert. Ears tall and head tilted he waits for the sound again. Only when he goes back to weaving the net does he hear the tapping repeat, this time noticing there is a rhythm to it. He leans over to peek past the entrance. 

“What are you doing?” The question has you startled, hand reeling back from where it taps on the wooden beam. 

“Knocking…” You whisper. 

That does very little to answer his question but once he gets a glimpse of your frame, he couldn’t be bothered to understand. 

“I guess that’s probably not a custom among the Metkayina.” Your arms are hugged around your waist again. 

This dress is different. 

It isn’t puffy like the others and its texture looks like that of sea glass. The hem falls along the top of your thighs and the top is only held by tiny straps. There is a coat of sorts with the same fabric that you use to wrap around the dress and cover yourself further. Ao’nung’s lips press into a line. 

“Are you entering?” 

“Y-yes…” You clear your throat. “Yes I am.” 

And just like the way you inched into the water, you barely scuffle into his marui. The bunny is tucked beneath one of the pillows now. At the rate your apprehension is rising it may be the only thing to get you past a few feet into his home. 

“Lo’ak was saying that you might have found-”

“You sleep in that?” Ao’nung interrupts, blue eyes casting over the outfit smoothly. It’s so difficult to see how it falls properly with your arms keeping the coat tucked around it. It’s been days since he has seen you up close properly, and now his view is still impeded. 

“It’s a nightgown.” 

With a sigh Ao’nung swiftly rolls over onto his feet, rising to his full height and making his way to the hammock. Looking over his shoulder, he gestures for you to come in further. Although timid, you obey. You take a moment to take in Ao’nung’s marui, noticing every detail. Tension coils in his shoulders. 

“You have been busy.” He plucks the bunny out from under the pillow. Your eyes land on the object immediately, small fingers digging into the smooth fabric of your nightgown. 

“Yes unfortunately. I haven’t been able to join the fireside for a few days but you know how it is…work stuff.” 

“I know how it is.” Voice lowering, his thumb swipes over the bunny’s pink hat. “Just how I know when you are avoiding me.” 

Your throat bobs in a visible gulp. Even now it seems as if he could hear the racket of your heart if he would just listen close enough. You have that same look that his prey does upon realizing they’ve been caught. A beat of silence strums between the two of you before you finally speak.

“Ma Ao’nung I am sorry about the other day. You’re right, I should have learned before I came. By Eywa it was foolish of me and simply no other simpering idiot would have neglected such a task. And it’s not that I don’t want to learn it’s just….I get a little nervous and…please don’t send me back!” 

Ao’nung is taken aback, having to reign in his expression as you shake in front of him. You keep your head down, almost in a mini bow of respect as your chest heaves. 

“Swimming?” He asks and you nod without looking up. 

“I’m sorry.” A sound so small it almost comes out as a whimper. 

Ao’nung strides forward into your space before you have a chance to retreat. Luckily your mask is gone today, giving him better access to grab your chin and lift your gaze to his. You're so close now he can practically feel the heat of your skin radiating towards him. 

“I do not care about the swimming.” 

“You don’t?” 

Ao’nung shrugs. Not the entire truth because he does in fact care but it no longer presses on him as heavily. Not when he knows that he will be your karyu [teacher] . 

“Then…” You hesitate, starting to pull your face out of his grip. He reluctantly allows it. “Can I have my bunny back now?” 

Ao’nung feels like he is about to scream. He settles for a scowl instead, lips curling back to almost reveal his sharp teeth. Never before has he even been close to being this jealous of an inanimate object. His nails dig into the plushy. All of this to get you here, in your tiny nightgown and everything yet you still reach for this childish toy?

“I will make you a deal.” This time he cups your cheek, hand large enough to clasp your jaw and settle over the crown of your undone hair. “You can have your fil [toy] back,” He waves the small thing for emphasis, voice nipping at the words. “After you explain why you have been avoiding me?” 

Why are you so afraid?  

There’s an internal battle waging in your mind. It’s obvious at the flash of your eyes between his hand clutching the stuffed animal and his stern expression. Neither are you able to focus on for more than two seconds.

“Ma Ao’nung, I haven’t been meaning to avoid you.” 

“Do not lie, tawtute.” 

You aren’t given the luxury of turning your head away from his burning attention. 

“Did Neteyam say something?” 

His tail’s whips so hard it almost knocks over a basket of gear. How are you so good at twisting this conversation in different directions? The last thing in the world he wants to hear about is Neteyam. Especially coming from your lips. 

“I will not speak of Neteyam.” 

“Oh my god he did tell you!” You groan, eyes squeezing shut for a moment with a sigh. “This is so embarrassing.” Your whine is accompanied by small hands that finally let go of your robe and come to cover your face, undermining the reason he has face cupped in his hand. “That asshole!” 

He’s heard the word a few times from the Sullys. From what he can tell the word has a negative connotation and now Ao’nung’s annoyance is met with swirling confusion. 

“Look Ao’nung,” With a huff you uncover your face. “Whatever Neteyam told you he says it worse than it actually is. Just a little crush, I promise. I won’t get in your way. I mean that’s what I’ve been trying to avoid in the first place. I know I am just some sky demon to you and I understand completely. If I could control it I would but-”

Ao’nung presses a firm finger over your lips. 

“Slower.” 

Stunned into silence it takes you a moment to continue speaking after his touch has left your lips. He rests a heavy hand on your shoulder now, sapphire eyes staring down without shame. 

“I like you…but I won’t bother you.” 

“You like me…” Ao’nung repeats but all he receives is a nod. “You run away from people you like?”

“Only when I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing.”

All the pieces click into place. Your heated cheeks, the obvious rambling, even your apparent need to stay away from him. Humans are strange to say the least. It’s the most backward reaction one should have to infatuation, but he shouldn’t have expected anything less from you. Nothing about you is straightforward. 

“You have a little crush on me, sevin?” His lips curl into a devilish smirk. 

You nod softly, grabbing the ends of your coat again to wrap around you. 

“Why?” It might not be fair to ask such a thing in your delicate state but Ao’nung can’t dampen down the thrill that rushes through him at your reaction now. For the first time in weeks when those beautiful eyes bounce and veer to get away from him, it’s not taken as an offense. Regardless, he crouches down to meet them with his own. 

“Well you’re…” You pause, a soft curl falling over your cheek. “You’re so pretty.” 

His brown bones raise at that. He’s not sure what response he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t being called pretty. A term so ironic coming from you of all people. 

“Hm is that so?” He hums, coming to kneel down fully. Even now he towers over you but your face is better within his reach. The toy bunny is discarded to the floor as he tugs you closer with a hand to your hip. There’s no fight in you, but a symphony of wild emotions gleam across your vibrant eyes. “And you like pretty things, don’t you paskalin [honey] ?” 

Rosy cheeks blossom before him.

“Yes.” 

Ao’nung’s nose swipes along your throat, tickling at the skin before he places a soft kiss to your cheek. A new shade sprouts from that spot and Ao’nung grins.

“Wait here.” He commands. 

He can feel your eyes on his back as he goes to retrieve the pearl necklace. Looking over it one last time he makes sure there are no loose ends or chipped materials. It’s funny to see you so lost for words, a different change of pace. When the necklace is presented however it seems you are unable to string together a proper sentence in response. 

The stuttering is almost better than a proper thank you, one that he shushes while clasping it around your neck. It hangs perfectly above your collar bones, just as he imagined. 

“Ao’nung…I can’t accept it.” 

Narrowed eyes pin you in place.

“Why not?” A sinking dread whispers that this has something to do with a certain Sully male. The same one that hangs by your side like an unwanted barnacle. 

“Because it’s too much. I appreciate it, you have no idea. But-”

“Look at me, sevin [pretty]. ” He husks, your eyes snapping at the command. “You don’t want to be mine?” 

A no from you would just be another obstacle that he must overcome, a chance to hatch a new plan at winning you over. And yet the air in his lungs goes stagnant as he waits. 

“Yours?”

“Oeyӓ sevin tawtute [my pretty human] .” Your feet tumble to keep up as yours hips are pulled forward again. 

“But…are you sure?” 

A line forms across his forehead, lips threatening to turn down. What is it with you and all these questions? Surely you are proficient enough in the language to understand what he is saying. 

“Are my words not clear to you, tawtute?” Another tug and those small fingers rest gently along his shoulders. 

“No, I understand but-”

“No more buts, sevin.” You’re tittering on the edge. That’s normal. Ao’nung has seen many courtships where one party has been hesitant in accepting right away. That’s why there is courting in the first place. An opportunity to show what a suitor can provide as a potential mate. And Ao’nung is more than keen on showing you all that he can give. 

So when his lips slant over yours, he inhales your little gasp. It gives him entry into your sweet mouth, his tongue smoothly twirling around yours. It’s small and smooth, so different than his own rough one but it’s a tickling sensation he can not get enough of. 

The lead up has been exhausting, furthermore frying his patience, so now that you are trapped in his kiss he holds nothing back. You mold against him surprisingly well, enthusiasm sprouting higher with every passing second you chase after his lead. A small hand taps at his shoulder.

It’s easy to forget what little air your lungs can carry so when he pulls away it’s amusing to see the way your ruby lips have darkened and chest heaves for oxygen. He grins, pecking those swollen lips once more for good measure. 

“No more hiding.” He says, a phrase caught somewhere between an order and question. 

“No more hiding.” You repeat and just in time before you are caught in another intense kiss. This one turns to filth quite quickly but you are the only one to blame as you grip the hair at the nape of his neck. 

You’re afforded the luxury of air once more when his lips turn to tantalize the sensitive skin of your throat. So many beautiful colors rise to the surface at each dirty kiss, lick, and nip he leaves. It’s as if your body is taunting him for more. So easy to mark. So easy to claim. 

Finally in the palm of his hand. 

“What did I just say?” He clicks his tongue in disapproval. 

“No more hiding.” You whisper, finally allowing Ao’nung’s larger hands to pry away your curled fingers from the coat’s fabric. It drifts to the ground softly. Such a flimsy fabric to dare get in the way of viewing his precious tawtute. 

“I like this one.” Knuckles glide over your sides, finally feeling the smooth texture for himself. 

“Thanks,” Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again, tracing the lines of his tattoos. “It’s kind of…” The words trail off into the night when he teases at the hemline, slipping beneath. “..short.” You finish with a shudder. 

“You have more?” A simple question you already struggle to answer as rough hands begin traveling up your outer thighs. 

“Um…yes I-I have more. I mean to wear them more often but-”

“Wear them for me , paskalin.” He clarifies, looking up from where he crouches down further. “Only me.” It’s tacked on as nothing more than a mumbled kiss against your thigh. The fabric begins to bunch and pool around Ao’nung’s wrist. It would rip easily with just a few tugs but watching your rising desperation as he trails ever so slowly upwards is more gratifying.

And there would be time for that later. For now this ‘nightgown’ finds salvation in the way it falls over your curves so sweetly.  

Ao’nung has never considered patience to be his strong suit. He’s more prone to jumping in and chasing what he wants but as you squirm beneath his touch and his calloused fingertips get the first glide of that smooth skin, he starts to think that perhaps there is something to delayed gratification after all. Hunger laces his throat, saliva gathering when the apex of your thighs are finally revealed. 

His years of learning self diligence as a warrior have paid off, the only thing keeping him from clawing at the small fabric hiding your cunt. The essence is strong through the fabric, like a siren song reeling him in. 

“They’re called panties.” You explain. The noise is hardly loud enough to hear over the thumping of his own heart. 

He only replies with a low hum, starting to toy with the frilled edges of the tiny garment. It’s smooth like the rest of your outfit but right there in the front under the tiny boy is a visible wet spot. Sharp canines come into view, his tongue swiping over the pearly whites in glee. The only thing better than smelling your arousal, than seeing the way your body responds to him, would be tasting it.

And now that you are caught and willing, the Metkayina male finds it hard to hold himself back from the well deserved meal. 

One thumb slips under the right side of your panties, pressing against the heated skin of your hip. The fabric is easily twisted, something he comes to find as he spins it around your hips. Doing so reveals a more prominent v shape, outlining your wet pussy like a present that waits to be unwrapped. 

“Ao’nung.” Your whine only half heartedly catches his attention. “Don’t tease.” 

“Don’t tease?” He repeats, voice dripping with that mockingly sweet tone. “Am I being mean to you, paskalin?” 

Smirking lips skate past your panties and over your lower stomach. Ao’nung breathes in the essence of your desire greedily. He follows the path of bunching fabric like a wave pulling back to the sea. “Am I not giving you enough attention?”

Ocean blue eyes pierce up at you through dark lashes from where he kneels. He lays a kiss over your lower abdomen like a silent prayer. Words evade you once more, only a simple nod in response. 

“Mawey [calm] sevin.” Ao’nung chuckles against your unmarked skin. “I will take care of you.” 

“I-I know.” 

Not the strongest assurance but there is time to change that. You’re shy. An attribute that Ao’nung has never fully come to appreciate until now. Whatever experience you may or may not have had has done very little to prepare you for this moment. Tentative fingertips paint over his shoulder tattoo and even grip the tough muscle there whenever he lays kisses along the rim of your panties. 

“Spread your legs.” 

The motion allows the sea breeze to better tickle at your sensitive core, bringing another wave of sweet fragrance to his attention. The confines of his tewng are near suffocating. There are so many ideas running through his mind, carnal dreams of what he could do to you. So many that it becomes hard to pick just one. 

For now, Ao’nung centers his focus on the moment. On appreciating every little frill and bow that wraps his future mate’s body. 

“Open.” It takes a moment for you to understand what he means as he holds up the bunched hem of your nightgown in his fist. Once those sensual lips part he presses the fabric inside. “Hold this for me, sevin.” 

The fabric of your panties stick to your skin, a sensation only made worse when Ao’nung’s thumb experimentally pressing down to find your clit. His left hand catches your hip after you jolt backwards. “Don’t be afraid to hold.” He says, prompting your hands to find purchase on his broad shoulders. 

It takes a few nudges from his elbows to properly spread you open for him again. That little nub is eager to the touch. Even with the thin fabric separating it from direct contact he can feel the way it pops past your lips for attention. Never before has he found a woman so sensitive to simple touches. 

How long has it been since you’ve been properly caressed? Properly worshiped?

When Ao’nung begins to tug the little fabric down his hands migrate towards your squishy backside. He brushes over that tender skin with a possessive touch that has your knees shaking. The bunch of fabric hits the ground and it takes little direction for you to step out of them. 

“Good girl.” He purrs. 

You're dripping for him. Like honey from a hive you are smothered in a substance so sweet that his stomach tightens in anticipation. Such a tiny pussy. So small it requires further inspection. Pressing a hand against your lower back for support, Ao’nung slowly drops his shoulder under your right knee until it is propped and laid across. 

It opens you up so beautifully for him. 

Sticky lips part to reveal your wet cunt to the open air. Just as he thought, your clit is alert and eager to be touched. Pressing forward he finds your hole clenching with the same desperation. There are no swirling designs leading to this sacred place like Metkayina women but instead he finds small constellations. Two dots just atop your mound as if to mark the spot. Kiri once called these freckles, much like the tahni [ star-like freckles] that dot Na’vi. 

Ao’nung is not a patient man and tonight he has exhibited more restraint than Eywa could have asked him for. So the first unblocked touch to your cunt is a broad lick from his textured tongue, dragging from your weeping pussy to attentive clit. 

With a shriek you jerk backwards. Upon reflex his other arm presses on your back to save you from the fall. 

A surprised laugh bounces in his chest. 

“Paskalin.” He teasingly reprimands but you’re already whining. 

“You have to warn me!” 

In the wake of your fall the nightgown edge slips out and blankets over his head. He ducks out from under the fabric to shoot you a smirk. 

“Is it too much for you, oeyӓ tatwute?” 

“N-no.” 

“You will have to learn, sevin.” Within one swoop he manages to wrangle himself back under the skirt and suck your clit into his mouth. It’s only that firm grip he keeps under your leg and against your back that keeps you in place as you writhe. “Because I don’t plan on skipping my meals.” He finishes with a shit eating grin after ducking back out again. 

“Let me make this easier for you.” 

Ao’nung takes special care to keep you from stumbling to another fall once he lets go. Too anxious to wait for you short legs to cross the distance he tucks you under his arm and lays you out on the hammock. 

Out of habit you adjust your skirt to a proper length. He narrows his eyes. 

“Sorry.” A mixture of a giggle and whisper once you stop fussing with the material. 

Ao’nung’s larger frame slithers over your own like a shadow in the night and you give a surprised screech when he pushes you further up the hammock. With bent legs hanging over opposite sides of the hammock he is once again free to feast upon his prize. 

You taste so…different. Like a rare delicacy that he can not get enough of. Perhaps it is the alien soap you use or maybe there is something simply otherworldly about your dripping cunt. Tail curling in on itself, Ao’nung takes great pleasure in the knowledge that this delicacy is his alone. No other male in the village will come to know of such a unique taste. 

Nor will they feel how hard you can really tug when it comes to pulling at the root of his hair as he laps at your folds. The first orgasm catches him by surprise. It’s almost too much to savor both your stream of uncontrolled moans and the taste of your cum at the same time. It will take at least another before he can truly be satisfied. 

“Oh my god, Ao’nung!” Eyes staring at the ceiling you let out an overwhelmed laugh. “Fuck.” The short curse sounds foreign coming from lips that usually carry only sweet scrambled words. 

He takes pity on your oversensitive cunt, finding entertainment in feeling your squishy thighs mold to his grip. 

“What are you doing?” He snaps. 

“Please Ao’nung?” Small lips curve into a pout as you tug at the band securing his bun. Tsireya is the only one he allows to do his hair and therefore the only woman that has properly manipulated its position. Over the years his curls have grown to fall to his lower back, making a bun the most logical hairstyle. And while he has let some lovers yank at the roots every now and then, no one gets to see it down. “It’s so pretty.” Your voice raises into a singing whine. 

You’re unperturbed by the roll of his eyes.

“You and your pretty things.” A muttered complaint that only softens when you reach down to brush his cheek. It would be unwise to let you know early on how much power you have already obtained over him. So even though your fondness of his hair makes his pride sprout, he puts on a reluctant expression as he unties it. 

Like a child with a new toy you grin and immediately go to span it out across his back and shoulders. Your glee is almost overwhelming and a sharp contrast to the sensual slick that still runs down your folds. If you get to play with him, it’s only fair that he gets a new view too. 

“Take them off.” 

Your fingers pause from where they swirl around a chunk of curls. 

“The straps,” He clarifies. “Under your arms, sevin.” 

The tiny straps are carefully shifted past your arms and under but you take your time in letting the top fall beneath your breasts. What a tease you are after all.

“Good girl.” 

You grin, busying yourself from this exposed new part by playing with his hair. It’s not afforded for long, however. Open mouthed kisses press over your heated flesh and bring that hunger back to life. Squirming and whining only gives him a better view of your breasts as they bounce with the motion. The enchanting nightgown is now nothing more than a wrinkled belt around your waist. 

The palm of his hand smooths over your inner thigh until his thumb can rub circles on your clit. 

“Grab them.” His command snaps your eyes open. “Come now, grab those pretty tits for me.” 

Your reluctance only shrivels into ash when he rewards your disobedience with his thumb pulling away. The result treats him to the arousing sight of you grasping your breasts as you feel the pad of his thumb spread your juices into every crevice of your cunt. 

“Hm, so nice to me paskalin.” Your areolas are viciously obvious against your pale skin, leading him to those little points that remain untouched. “Pinch your nipples, sevin. Give them some attention.” 

The only attention his groin receives as he watches is the drag of the hammock over his tewng as he ruts against it in broad strokes. 

“Harder, tawtute. You can do better than that.” And for a dose of encouragement Ao’nung pressing his thumb just past your entrance. A rhythm between your bucking hips and tugging fingers is quickly established. It’s difficult to know where to look as his thumb is pressed deeper into your core with every thrust while your tiny fingers torment those nubs into blushing tips. 

“Ao’nung it hurts!” Unshed tears crease at your lashes. For a moment he wonders if you mean his thumb that now is sucked to the base in your heat but by the way you cinch eagerly it’s clear to see you mean your little nipples.

“Already crying on me, precious?” Despite the eased reprimanding, Ao'nung presses your fingers away and withdraws his thumb. “My fragile tawtute.” The dark chuckle is laced with affection as he works to put you into a new position.  

You’re lifted onto his chest as he lays beneath, turned towards his groin as your thighs straddle his upper body. Hooking under your inner thighs Ao’nung scoots you up his chest so his face is level with your spread core. 

 Squirmy thing that you are, it's a chore to position you properly. Ao’nung is forced to crane his neck just to get a taste of you. 

“Sit.” He growls between clenched teeth. 

“I don’t want to suffocate you!” 

A bitter laugh pushes from his chest as he throws his head back. There is so much you need to learn.

“Sevin, I can hold my breath longer than you can go without whining. Now, sit down .” The stern instruction snaps you into action. So with trembling legs you begin to lower yourself until broad arms wrap around your upper thighs and yank you down the rest of the way. 

It’s easy to forget about the slow ache in his lungs when his mind is dancing from the taste of your arousal. The hardest part about holding one’s breath for a long time is distracting oneself from the need to suck in air. With you singing little moans and Ao’nung’s face drowning in your essence, there is more than enough to occupy him. 

In fact he finds himself so caught up in lapping at your folds sucking every ounce of pleasure from you that it takes him a moment to register the shift of his tewng. His tail spikes against the foreign touch but sooner or later the first knot comes undone and you have it sitting crooked across his hips. 

It would be a dream to see your face upon catching sight of his cock, but he settles for your little gasp instead. It seems you have finally found some confidence as your fingers trail over every groove of his abs before continuing to push at his loincloth. Ao’nung chuckles into your cunt upon feeling your struggle. He is generous enough to lift the other hip and give you the chance to fully discard the garment. 

In this position you are too short to reach his throbbing length with your mouth. That, however, does not stop you from eagerly reaching a small hand down to touch. So much hesitation in that first glide along his shaft. The size alone should be enough to scare you away, images of the diligence it would require to fully take him inside conjuring up. Ao’nung only has his own imagination to fuel that fantasy. That, and now your small hand tentatively stroking at him. 

You're lifted upwards for a moment. 

“Don’t be shy, sevin.”

Back into the crevice of your soft thighs and your response is shattered into broken moans when his tongue finally plunges into your heat. It scrapes along the walls, textured flesh teasing at the gooey area until he has to wrestle you into place. 

The dual act only becomes more difficult when you’ve finally grown the courage to begin pumping him properly. Toes curling into the hammock’s fabric Ao’nung forces himself not to buck up immediately. Those little fantasies don’t hold a candle to the way it feels to have you touching him now. 

It’s clear you’re not sure what to do with a man of his size but something about that makes it all the more erotic for him. Tongue picking up its pace, a feral growl rips from him when he feels your spit covered palm spreading over his throbbing length, giving an experimental squeeze at the base. 

Pure filth radiates from his marui. Although his residence has the fortune of being somewhat secluded from the rest, a part of him hopes that others can hear the sloppy wet sounds that pick up with every passing second. Maybe even hear the way you moan his name just from his tongue fucking up into your greedy hole. Or hear the way you struggle to keep a grip on him when he can’t fight the desire anymore and begins fucking up into your fist too. 

He can’t continue this game much longer. The tense of his lower abs and the way his balls draw upwards tells him that there is only so much longer he can hold off before tipping over the edge. Regardless, he refuses to cum before getting at least one more taste of your sweet release. So with a messy face and shaking hands he thrusts and swirls his tongue like a mad man while using his thumb to rub at your little button. 

The effect is dazzling!

His name screeches from your lips without resolve and his tongue becomes drenched in your sweet nectar. The taste is what pushes him into climax, ribbons of white shooting over your wrists and his lower stomach. 

A sound of pure elation echoes from his smothered face as he keeps slurping until every last drop is his. 

Shaky thighs flex to get away and this time you are released. 

There is a moment where no words are spoken. You lay across him upside down with a crumbled nightgown twisted around your waist. He puffs for air while absently stroking at your calf. The marui is thick with your mixed scents, only a thin breeze drifting from the entrance to cool down the space periodically. 

“Good tawtute.” He purrs even as his other hand fusses with curls that are sure to be knotted thanks to you. 

The haziness of sleep threatens to overtake him but with a sigh he fights back the fatigue and carefully slips out from under you. Wetting a cloth using the small basin of water he almost doesn’t catch your call.

“Ao’nung,” You point at the discarded bunny on the floor. 

He scoffs and trails back to clean you up first. Then once you have sufficiently been wiped down and the nightgown adjusted he backtracks to pick up your ridiculous toy. Settling beneath you once more he reluctantly hands over the plushy. You smile and smooth down the bunny’s skirt. 

“You no longer need such a silly thing. You have me to hold now.” The Metkayina male argues, shifting your form so you’re properly atop his chest. “ I protect you.”

The responding giggle is worn and tired. 

“And what? Have a sleepover every night?”

It’s the natural course of action but there is something about your tone that tells him it is not as obvious to you. 

“Tawtute, you sleep here now.” 

And asleep you are. Too far gone in your dreamland to even hear his last words. Ao’nung grumbles softly but it’s hard to be upset when watching the way you breath so peacefully against his chest. That damn bunny still tucked under your arm. 

Ao’nung finds his own rest soon after, palm flat over the pearl necklace around your neck. 

Perfectly in place at last.