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Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader
Summary: Lo'ak is a brat tamer, what can I say?
Warnings: indulgent (aged up) nsfw, filth, p in v, oral, subby reader, mean dom Lo'ak
"Come on, Y/N. Do it right so I can go home."
A frustrated huff fills tense silence. Your right arm pulls back, muscles taunt, one eye sliding closed to help aim your bow. A slow breath is drawn through pursed lips before you release, the arrow slamming into a tree nowhere near the target.
With an angry grunt, you turn on him, fingers clutching the weapon tightly at your side. "I would've gotten it by now, if I had a better teacher."
"You would've gotten it if you knew how to listen." He's quick to retort, strong arms crossing over a broad chest.
Your lips pull into an irritated frown. Without responding, you nock another arrow and resume your practiced stance. Again, this one fails to land within the hastily painted circle.
"Oh my Eywa." He draws out the Great Mother's name, head lifting toward the sky. His eyes pinch tightly as he tries to contain his rising anger.
"Don't be so mean, Lo'ak." You've had enough of his attitude, hand raising to shove against his shoulder. He stumbles back a step, having been distracted by his own tantrum, and looks to you with surprise. "This is why you don't have any friends."
Without hesitation, he shoves you right back, though he makes sure the motion has no strength behind it. "Don't push me."
"Don't push me." All four fingertips poke into his chest, and this time he doesn't budge an inch.
"You know what? We're done." He throws his hands up in exasperation, turns, and walks away.
"Wait!" You're quick to chase after him, hand clamping around his elbow. "If I don't get this my parents will kill me."
"Not my problem." He shakes you off, throwing the words over his shoulder without stopping.
"Lo'ak!" He doesn't miss a step, toned back retreating steadily. You come to a stop with a huff, knowing you'll need to stoop low to make him listen. "I'll tell your dad!"
He comes to a halt begrudgingly, trusting that you would do it. His jaw grinds, hands tightening into fists at his sides. The toned muscles of his back and shoulders visibly tense. You always seem to find a way to get exactly what you want. It's so infuriating.
He turns, stalking toward you with a hard glare. Your eyes widen at his menacing demeanor, leaning back slightly as he grows near. He all but rips the bow from your hand, leaning over you to leer in your face. Bright yellow eyes bore into yours, shining with anger and something else. Something darker, hotter.
"You're such a brat, you know that?" His voice is low, hoarse as he spits the insult.
Your stomach dips, fluttering before the space between your legs warms. You shift on your feet, rubbing your thighs together to quench the ache. He's quick to straighten back to his full height and push past you, shoulder knocking yours along the way. You're momentarily stunned, gulping down the anxiety suddenly bubbling in your throat.
"No, that's not right." Lo'ak shakes his head, arms crossed tightly.
You've been at this for another hour, arms shaking with the effort of holding the weapon you can't seem to master. Your trembling stance releases, back bowing to relieve some of the painful tension.
