#sub loak

Lo’ak is not meant to be the submissive type. He has a wild streak and rebellious nature that has kept his parents and older brother running after him since the day he learned to walk. 

So that is how he knows that joining the omega retreat today would not only have been a waste of time but furthermore humiliated him as his incompatible personality would clash with that of docile omegas. 

That being said, he knows how important his participation in this retreat is to his father. Jake had pulled some special strings to get the event to occur months earlier than planned, a joint effort that his mate was sure to be in on. And it’s the thought of Ezar’s knowledge of his disobedience that has Lo’ak’s stomach twisting into knots. His patient, but strict, alpha who has put up with more mischievous antics and woos from an omega than perhaps every other alpha combined. There’s no telling what sort of lecture and punishment awaits him at home, so Lo’ak takes the most reasonable course of action. 

He hides. 

Although, he doesn’t prefer to call it hiding. It’s simply…spending some quality alone time. 

However, now it has been over five hours since he has eaten anything but wild berries, a problem that wouldn’t exist had he attended the retreat and partaken in the great feast there, so Lo’ak is driven back to the village by the sizzling scent of roasting meat. He’s strategic with his path, knowing better than to nonchalantly trot back for dinner and assume that his absence has not been reported. From this trail he is hoping to reach the outskirts of the communal fire, hidden by the growing shadows of eclipse and therefore able to snatch a piece of meat before cowering to safety once more. 

When he reaches the outskirts of the gathering, a cocky smile spreads across his face in triumph. His family can be seen on the other side of the fire, messing with Tuk’s tangled braids as she whines incessantly. There isn’t enough attention left for him, a fact that used to make Lo’ak angry but now has come to show endless benefits. 

It's when he braces himself forward to sneakily drag a piece of meat on a leaf plate back that Lo’ak feels the warmth of a hand gripped around the back of his neck. His airway isn’t cut off in the slightest but it’s firm just enough to set his omega instincts alight. A thumb swiping over his bonding bite gives the stranger away immediately. He is brought back to his feet slowly until he can feel the solid toned chest pressed against his upper back. 

“There you are.” Lo’ak tries to hold back the thrilled shiver that rackets through his body, the luring deep voice rattling his bones. A cloud of heated breath tickles at his prickled skin. “I just had a very interesting chat with your brother.” 

Neteyam.

Lo’ak has to admit that his older brother’s efficiency in tattling on him mere hours after his disappearance is impressive. A greater diligence than he would’ve expected, even from the golden boy himself. He glares an imaginary hole into the back of Neteyam’s head where his brother sits obliviously across the fire, rebraiding Tuk’s hair. 

“Well I know how much you two enjoy your Lo’ak gossip sessions.” He grits out between clenched teeth even though Ezar’s darkening makes his knee threaten to buckle. 

“Lo’ak.” His name is spoken as a hissed reprimand, enough to momentarily have Lo’ak biting his tongue regretfully. 

“You didn’t even bother to show up.” Ezar’s sigh sends goosebumps racing across his skin. Irritably Lo’ak swings the grip off his neck and turns to stomp away from the communal fire. He’s not surprised to hear thudding footsteps practically nipping at his heels. Ezar’s own shadow stretches over Lo’ak’s along the forest floor, spreading a wave of anxiety as his headstrong will and submissive nature clash. 

“If you didn’t want to go, then you should’ve talked to me.” Ezar snatches his arm, forcing the boy to spin on his heel. 

It’s true. Lo’ak mentally scolds himself for not reaching out to his alpha earlier about the issue, but somehow that realization only spurs on his rebellious spark to burn brighter. He has no desire to admit his own wrongdoings, stubborn pride prompting him to glare up at the alpha. There is a spark of challenge alight in his eyes as he feigns a nonchalant confidence and squares his shoulders assertively. It takes every fiber of his being to not heed the small voice in the back of his head urging him to shrink beneath that alpha’s intense glare. 

“I don’t have to report every detail of my life to you. I can go and do as I please.” Lo’ak’s chin tilts up in counterfeit confidence, ignoring the way Ezar’s head tilts jarringly slow.

“Is that so?” Ezar’s voice is as level and smooth as fine silk, a natural aura of ease radiating off of him tangibly. Lo’ak is surprised to see how quickly such a simple question sends warning bells ringing through his head. His throat physically strains in an effort to not visibly gulp as the older male prowls forward with fluid steps. 

They’ve played this game before. Somehow it always ends with Lo’ak backed up against a tree, trapped by his mate’s impressive physique till atoning words flow from Lo’ak’s lips. His heels twitch slightly with the natural instinct to step back with every progression of Ezar’s path. This time, however, he stops himself. He plants them forcibly in the muddy soil and imagines that they are held by the same concrete seen at Hell’s Gate. 

I am unmovable, Lo’ak mentally chants. 

“I don’t need an alpha babysitting me.” The omega is proud of how stern and steady his voice comes out despite his nerves twisting together into a tight ball. For a moment he lets himself imagine what an alpha would do, what his father does, what Ezar does, and he uses this knowledge to his advantage. His chest puffs out and hands naturally settle themselves along the dips of his hips, stance wide and rigid. 

Ezar laughs. 

That asshole laughs.

Not the usual carefree laughter that shakes the male’s chest after one of Lo’ak’s well played jokes. This sound comes out with an arrogant timber and amused smile that makes Lo’ak’s nails dig into his palm. He is caught between apprehension and anger as he stands there and purses his lips into an unintended pout. 

“Is that what I do, yawne? Babysit you?” Ezar drawls, trapping Lo’ak’s chin between pinched fingers. The alpha’s head tilts to the side and Lo’ak’s spots the glimmer of sharp incisors poking between the male’s tempting lips. It feels like a trap, one that the alpha is just waiting for Lo’ak to stumble into. Still, it’s too late to back down now. 

So Lo’ak does what he does best.

He digs in his heels. 

“Second only to your favorite pastime of bossing me around.” 

Lo’ak can practically feel the alpha’s hairless brow raise as they are nose to nose. Warm saliva pools along his tongue, sharp teeth aching to bite his bottom lip. Ezar’s even fall and rise of his chest presses the defined muscles against the omega’s own chest. Lo’ak prays to Eywa that Ezar is too distracted to notice the essence of his arousal whisper in the air. 

“And what alternative do you propose, omega?” Their lips brush together with every word coming from Ezar’s mouth. “You feel it better if I let you be in charge?” 

The alpha’s head shakes to give a fleeting eskimo kiss before dipping down to trace the curve of Lo’ak’s neck. The Sully boy struggles to lift his eyelids as a long kiss is placed directly over his mating mark. Ezar knows how sensitive the area is, how directly linked the physical depiction of their connection is to Lo’ak’s submission. Still, the omega bites his tongue and forces himself to look over his head, straight at the nearest tree. 

It becomes increasingly more difficult to decipher Ezar’s mood in these situations, something that alpha has used to his advantage. Lo’ak is under no illusion that he will wiggle out of retribution after the stunt he pulled today, but he craves to keep this charade going longer. He needs to see how far he can assert his own dominance. He is convinced that it is an effort made to prove something to himself, but deep down he knows it’s to challenge his alpha.

To see the real evidence that this man is worthy of his submission and trust. That no matter how hard Lo’ak fights and bites and drives the male to the edge, he will always put in the effort necessary to bring him into that tranquil state of abiding his natural instincts. To demonstrate that he will never be abandoned or forgotten. 

So with that in mind, Lo’ak clears his throat and manages to clearly say, “As I said, I don’t need someone else telling me what to do.” 

“Oh I see.” Lo’ak can feel the pull of a vicious smile etched along his alpha’s face as it trails upwards till they are cheek to cheek. Calloused fingers dance with a feather-like fragility over the omega’s hips and sides. “You poor thing,” comes the husky whisper against his right ear. 

“Being looked after,” The seductive touches drip lower. “Taken care of,” Lo’ak barely holds in a gasp as curved knuckles slowly trace the bulge in his loincloth. Heat like molten gold settles in his belly, fire steaming to reaching anywhere from his toes to fingertips. “All that coddling must be so infuriating for someone as independent as you, hm?”

Lo’ak’s posture falls to shambles with that large hand slipping past the waistband to wrap around his base. His hips buck involuntarily into Ezar’s grip. 

“Someone who would rather take care of things themselves.” The smooth glide of Ezar’s grip accompanies the words. The pad of his thumb drags over the head and Lo’ak finally gives into the urge to bite his bottom lip harshly. The omega’s cock is easily nestled in Ezar’s hand, being a considerable number of inches shorter than the alpha’s own. “No need to have some alpha take care of this pretty little cock, no?” 

Lo’ak panics slightly when he feels the male’s hand retreat, only to then be confused by his wrist being grabbed and pushed down the front of his own loincloth. 

“So then take care of it.” Ezar encourages. Forcefully wrapping Lo’ak’s hand around his small shaft before recoiling entirely.

As Lo’ak silently sputters, frozen in place, he mourns the loss of his mate’s heat and touch, who  now stands several feet away with his hands on his hips. Upon recovery, he gathers every tendril of fervent anger together to glower up at his lover. 

“Go on.” Ezar simply states with a wave of his hand. 

Lo’ak can feel the fever of his blushing cheeks spreading over to the tint the very tips of his ears, but he tenaciously keeps his brows furrowed and tempestuous filled eyes pinpointed on the smirking male. He is caught between getting himself off desperately and storming away to pout. His decision hinges on which one will express his indignation to his mate in the most profound fashion. Completely mortified, he finds his cock twitching in his palm, apparently unruffled by the predicament. 

Swirling between the two options, it seems that there is no legitimate strategy to getting what he wants while also maintaining his pride. 

So he lets the volcano of emotion erupt.

“Fuck you!” He spits, yanking his hand out and rushing past the looming alpha. 

A sharp shriek departs his lips as the root of his kuru is trapped and tugged harshly. He stumbles to find footing, only to fall back against his mate’s warm chest. Strained by the hold on his kuru and arm caging his waist, Lo’ak finally feels the reality of this trap lock into place. 

“How many?” 

Lo’ak’s ears immediately droop, unhappy to know exactly what the alpha is asking. 

“Five, sir.” He grumbles between barely parted lips. Hoping to work on Lo’ak’s overuse of foul language, Ezar had been rewarding every dirty word with five spanks. Some days it’s left Lo’ak with a red ass perceivable to the common eye, hiking up his attitude and embarrassment to new heights. 

“Good boy.” It’s the first sample of praise to leave Ezar’s lips that day and Lo’ak tries not to acknowledge the radiating relief he feels blooming in his chest. His jaw locks together and he refuses to show any hint of enjoyment at being praised, like some perfect little obedient omega. 

He’s toppled over one of Ezar’s propped knee in a flash before a quick succession of five hard spanks are laid down on his vulnerable behind. It’s impossible to keep his shrill cry in. Ezar’s upper body strength is greater than many Na’vi that Lo’ak knows. The alpha’s muscular biceps has Lo’ak drooling one day and begging for mercy the next. He wonders if he had been better at keeping a poker face during the first spanking he had ever received, if the alpha would still use it as the go to effective retribution. 

Swiftly Lo’ak is pulled back to standing in the alpha’s arm, face hiding against his chest as the omega tries to recover his composure. Ezar gently pats his head and Lo’ak frowns at how incredible the nonchalant touch feels. 

“Now, let’s go yawne.” 

“Home’s the other way.” Lo’ak protests as Ezar starts guiding them back the direction they came. Large hands squeezing his plush hips to steer him properly, the omega’s cheeks clench to keep the dribble of slick from coating his inner thighs. 

“I know. We aren’t going home.” 

Lo’ak’s feets slide against the slippery mud when he realizes they are returning back to the dining area. He’s sure at this point that there is at least a faint blush left upon his bare cheeks and even if  it is not so, he has lost all appetite. Or rather, all desire to be around others, especially his father who is yet to chew him out for disappearing. 

“I’m not hungry.” He twists to turn the other way but all that accomplishes him is being picked up with one arm around his waist and carried further towards their destination. 

“Funny, I don’t remember asking.” Ezar adjusts the omega in his arms till Lo’ak’s feet are kicking in the air. “Besides, it’s where you were headed in the first place. And since you’re in charge now, it seems only fair to return you to where you were found.” 

Lo’ak knows the fight is over. Every scrap of energy he had left to bait his mate has melted into a puddle of scorching desire spreading into every crevice of his body. 

Being forced to sit on his alpha’s lap was surprising, usually Lo’ak was at least afforded the choice of where he wanted to sit. Still, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Or at least that is what he thought until he was shifted to have his ass lined up perfectly over Ezar’s growing bulge. The friction was almost non-existent but that didn’t seem to matter when it came to his omega hindbrain, especially after going all day without his mate’s presence or affection. 

It seemed all of this played perfectly into Ezar’s hand as his touch began to gently travel further and further up Lo’ak’s inner thighs. His own cock strained against the restrictive fabric of his loincloth, all too aware of the pleasure that was almost his minutes earlier. Ezar's affectionate touching was occasionally ramped higher with random kisses left on Lo’ak’s cheek, neck, mating mark, and shoulders. He didn’t plow ahead with brutal force to mold the omega back into a docile headspace, the alpha was too patient for that. He knew Lo’ak too well. 

So once ten minutes had passed with these torturous comforting and seductive touches mixed together, Lo’ak couldn’t handle the constant clenching of his hole and hunger for real intimacy therefore leading him to quietly beg for what his hindbrain had been purring for since Ezar first grabbed his neck. 

Naturally, Ezar complied…that is, technically. 

Lo’ak shifted once more, trying to angle his mate's massive length against his prostate but failing miserably. The rough texture of his mate’s hands smoothed over his plush thighs leisurely before pushing the omega’s hips back into place. Lo’ak recognizes the coppery taste of blood leaking from his inner lip, clamping down in effort to keep in his wanton moans. Time has warped into a frenzy of confusion, his thoughts only focused on the wicked desires thrumming through him. 

Sitting on the very outskirts of the gathering, the orange glow from the fire barely has a hold on the pair and it’s this thought that give Lo’ak solace. He’s tiptoeing the edge of humiliation, surrounded by his family and friends while Ezar is balls deep inside of him, casually lifting pieces of food to the boy’s lips. If only they knew the state he is held in, the true obedience that lies beneath his facade of teeth and obstinance. 

His nerves and arousal, however, weave together sinfully till the omega is confused about whether or not he would enjoy such a truth being revealed. It’s wrong and it’s risky, yet somehow it fuels the flames of his desire and therefore the ache of this torture as he is forced to stay in place. 

This is not what he envisioned upon begging for his mate’s cock sweetly. 

“Open.'' Another scrap of meat is held up to Lo’ak’s lips but he simply groans and throws his head back against Ezar’s shoulder instead. “Come on, you’re being so good for me. Why stop now? Don’t you want to make me happy?” Ezar coos against Lo’ak’s lolled head. 

Lo’ak’s not sure why that works, and he has no interest in investigating it further, but it does. His lips part slowly and he soaks in the whispered praise as he chews the meat with weakened stamina.The pattern continues with every bite reluctantly being pushed past his ips until his alpha has decided it’s been a sufficient meal. 

Still, he makes no motion to move. 

“Look at you,” The alpha’s voice resounds deeply into a purr. “Warming my cock like a good boy. I knew you had it in you, baby.” His toes curl into the dry dirt and he looks around to make sure no eavesdropping ear has caught the whispered praise. However, his diligence in masking their crude acts is quickly slipping, being replaced by the inherit need to be properly fucked by his alpha. 

Despite the throbbing of Ezar’s cock inside the warm channel of his hole, the alpha appears to be in no rush. He pacifies every hushed whimper with fond pets and kisses, enticing the omega’s body to completely fall back against him. After being repositioned for the fifth time, Lo’ak feels as if he is about to cry on the spot. Drafting pheromones betray his temperament, but instead of giving the boy what he really wants, Ezar softly guides Lo’ak’s face to nuzzle against his neck.

He can still hold on to the last bit of resolve it takes to not let physical tears fall from his golden orbs, but it’s shakable and wavering. Pressed against the part where his alph’s scent is the strongest, Lo’ak becomes intoxicated with the sensation. His body finally goes limp, apart from the occasional shuffling, and he allows himself to melt against his alpha. It’s been a long day and now the only thing that he is convinced will make him feel better is being filled with his alpha’s seed. 

It’s something Lo’ak would never dream of admitting out loud. On most days it takes considerable encouragement and patience on Ezar’s behalf to pry those words from Lo’ak’s lips in private. Sitting here, however, split open and on the brink of ecstasy after a long day, he’s having a hard time holding himself back from begging in front of everybody. 

“Such a pretty boy.” Ezar murmurs against Lo’ak’s temple, the omega’s signature front beaded braids rolling between them. The flat of his hand travels across Lo’ak’s chest, rolling over the boy’s nipples, bringing forth another muted whine and wiggling of hips. 

“Not fair.” Lo’ak gripes against his pulse. The painstakingly slow petting along his chest feels as if it is lighting his skin on fire, effectively causing a burning to ignite from the inside out. It’s the drag of Ezar’s hips moving for the first time that has the omega clamping down on the soft flesh above his mate’s collarbone. 

“What’s not fair, baby?” The silky braids twist around Ezar’s fingers as he lazily plays with them. “You said you should be in charge and I’m letting you. We ate dinner like you wanted.” Another kiss to his forehead, the skin warm against Ezar’s lips. “You wanted my cock and I gave you that.” The tone drops to a lower octave but Lo’ak no longer cares enough to check the safety of their private conversation. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He whines and turns further into the alpha but that only causes a new angle to be hit and another wave of pleasure to shake through him.

“Then tell me exactly what you want.” Ezar’s pelvis rolls forward, and like a hunter knows every inch of their weapon, his alpha knows exactly how to find his little bundle of nerves perfectly. Lo’ak’s mouth pries open in a silent scream, mind going blank for a prolonged moment. It’s only Ezar’s hand coming up to gently close his jaw that keep him from looking like a fucked out omega and ultimately blowing their cover. 

He shakes his head stubbornly, eyes clenched shut as he tries to regain some sort of mental clarity. There is no way he will be begging for his alpha publicly twice in one night. Knowing the explicit detail his mate will require, Lo’ak is hell bent to suffer in silence rather than risk humiliating himself. 

Or at least that is what he thinks, but as the pressure on his bundle of nerves increases and his alpha waits stubbornly for a response, he starts to wonder how much more of this torture he can endure. Were it any other night he would have already been fucked to half an inch of his life and snuggling close to his mate in their hut while sharing stories from their day. Some nights Ezar is kind enough to rub away the tension that gets lodged in his shoulders, a massage that to his credit is never put as a bargaining chip for anything in return. All of that sounds like a dream now. A dream he is desperately starting to consider sacrificing everything for.

Everything to finally feel him move. 

To finally be taken and broken down to his natural state, mask torn away and bare before his lover with nothing but the truth. To give in to his second gender and allow himself the luxury of being coddled and loved and sometimes being railed till he can’t walk. 

It’s difficult to remember why that was such a bad thing to want in the first place. 

“Come on, love. How am I supposed to let you lead if you won’t give instructions?”

A pained laugh leaves his lips without warning as small tears gather at the corners of his eyes. Ezar quickly shushes the boy and smooths his braids away from his glimmering face. Luckily the sounds are swallowed by boisterous laughter and chatter rippling across the clearing. 

“D-don’t-” He sucks in a sharp breath as the mushroom tips readjust against that special spot inside of him. “D-don’t want to say.” 

Ezar softly coos away the stream of whimpers that build within Lo’ak’s chest. The soothing caress of his mate and slight rocking motion he provides is enough to have the omega finally closing his eyes and letting the tears fall fully. 

“I know you don’t want to, baby.” The heavily accented drawl sings like a lullaby in the night, coaxing Lo’ak closer to the headspace that leaves him floaty and pliant. “Do you know how I know?” 

Shaking his head seems like an exhausting effort, but he manages. 

“Because I know you, Lo’ak.” Ezar circles his palm around the front of the omega’s neck, reveling in the spike of arousal that follows instantly. “I know what lies beneath that stubborn tough act of yours.” The alpha grins when he senses the familiar feeling of a slim tail curling itself around his calf. 

“Deep down you know what’s there too.” He shuffles his hips once more, acting as if it’s to reposition the omega’s weight on his lap. “You know that only I can touch you in the way you crave. That only your alpha can satisfy that yearning in the back of your head.” 

His thumb runs over the apparent mating mark and the loss of tension in Lo’ak’s body is tangible, almost visible in the dim light of eclipse. 

“There’s my sweet omega.” 

Lo’ak’s hips begin to rut back against the thick cock inside of him, brain too fuzzy to worry about the consequences both social and those from disobeying his mate. Luckily, Ezar takes that as their cue to leave. With careful planning he is able to subtly slip himself out of the boy when it appears that all other heads are turned. It takes a hand over his mouth to keep Lo’ak quiet enough, another arm to manhandle him as the omega tries to rut back against him as if he could somehow capture his length again.  

The crowd continues on in friendly conversation without a hitch. While carefully lifting the boy over his shoulder it appears that the rest of the Sully family has finally caught sight of them. Jake Sully gives him a respectful nod, and Ezar is quick to return it, their way of confirming that Lo’ak is in good hands. 

If there is one thing he has learned from his time being mated to Ezar it’s that the sight of durable leather cords means he isn’t going to get what he wants. 

Far past caring about the humiliation, Lo’ak tries to form an adorable pout and pretty words of apology as the alpha ties his wrists to the intruding tree branch in the hut, but the only answer he receives is a little coo and pat to the cheek. Now, laying here naked with his arms over his head dramatically and small cock twitching on display, he tries using the last bit of mental lucidity to find a way to flip the situation to his favor. 

His thought process however seems to be tangling into an inconceivable web as the alpha runs his tongue along his lower abs and hips. Each swipe ends with another sweet kiss placed slowly. In random patterns, these kisses are intercepted with a sudden pain that then blooms into a bite mark or purple hickey. Ezar has always been very intentional and particular about his placement of marks along his body. While some alphas have a hay day, driven by heated lust to cover their mate’s body till there is no doubt in anyone’s mind who they belong to, Ezar prefers a more tactical approach.

From the moment they mated, he has diligently scouted and mapped out every inch of the boy’s beautiful slim body. He takes note of the shifts in body language and noises at each point he has reached with teeth, tongue or hands. It’s in those special spots, the areas where Lo’ak’s eyes blow out and whimpers becomes a hushed whine, that the alpha choses to leave his mark. The benefits that profess from that decision always makes it pay off. During those random encounters in the days to follow with him brushing past those small marks, innocent to the common Na’vi eyes, but Lo’ak knows what it means. Another silent reminder of the alpha’s hold on his pleasure, and promises of more to come. 

Lo’ak doubts he will ever admit how many times he has had to find a secluded place to get off after these small interactions. 

Currently the victim of his mate’s aggressive teeth and tongue is the spot right above his upper thigh, mere inches away from his straining cock. It’s enough to have him bucking and kicking his feet and since the alpha does not appreciate efforts of throwing him off from his carefully chosen spot, the behavior is quickly nipped into a bud. Strong hands harshly pushing hips down and he repositions himself to capturing the boy’s legs with his flexed thighs on either side. 

Although the leather is soft, Lo’ak can already feel the imprints along his wrist from tugging relentlessly against the bonds. His skin is an inferno, heated to the touch. This condition is one that Lo’ak has only ever seen in himself during harsh heats and that revelation makes him realize what pathetic of a state his mate has truly put him in. 

Matters only worsen, when Ezar scales down his body and finally rises back to stand on his feet. Within a few fluid swipes of his hands, the male flicks his loincloth to the side, revealing himself fully to Lo’ak’s ogling gaze. 

“Just for a minute!” Lo’ak pleads, hands yanking at the bonds in hysterical fashion. 

“No, Lo’ak. You’ve lost the privilege to touch tonight.” 

And just like that Lo’ak is condemned to watch his naked mate with a God-like body loom over him seductively without the slightest ability to enjoy the toned muscles he is so fond of. 

Lo’ak knows he has been careless in laying his cards out on the table. From the moment they started courtship and then mating, he has underestimated Ezar’s knack for observation. It didn’t take the alpha long to realize how much Lo’ak enjoys gliding his hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, even leaving his own hickies in trails adjacent to the toned muscle of his thighs. It’s one of the first things that the omega springs for when they are alone, and therefore the first privilege he loses after misbehavior. 

As much as Ezar yearns to see and feel his little mate worship his body, he is resigned to teach the omega a lesson. Besides, he finds that the stream of whimpers and glazed over glimmer in his poor boy’s eyes is almost as enjoyable as feeling his small fangs against his stomach. 

With his alpha prowling over him completely bare and taking his sweet time teasing his inner thighs once more, Lo’ak throws caution to the wind and yanks on his binds with all of his strength, sore wrists be damned. He needs to feel the smooth toned skin. He needs to sink his teeth into something. Or at least have his mate sink into him. Either would be accepted at this point. However, there is another danger to being tied up, and that is the twisted pleasure and hazy mindset that inevitably follows. 

Perhaps this makes him a masochist, but the tight capture and smooth leather against his wrists has always brought a rush. However, more than that it has provided an escape from his own mind. Submitting willingly is difficult for Lo’ak, his intrusive thoughts constantly second guessing whether or not it is pathetic of him to yield to an alpha so easily. The binds, however, eliminate this fear and self loathing. After all, he can’t hate himself for a situation that is not entirely his fault. He sinks into that feeling freely. Level by level he’s falling down into that swirling abyss where thoughts are muddled and worries drift away with the wind. 

Ezar grins like a Cheshire cat upon detecting the shift in demeanor, his sweet omega finally letting himself enjoy the pleasure of submission. The boy’s hands fall limp against the soft leather, and those beautiful golden eyes peek up at him through slitted lids. 

“That’s it, pretty boy.” Ezar is quick to reward the behavior with tender kisses peppered along his neck and cheeks till finally reaching his lips. Lo’ak’s mouth is warm and wet as his lips move lazily against the alpha’s own. The omega’s tongue sluggishly yields to whatever direction his own manipulates it into and when his teeth sink into the boy’s plump bottom lip, a wanton moan slips free. 

So delicate and soft beneath his touch, Ezar savors the feel of his mate preening close and shifting in whatever way he pleases. He’s putty beneath his hands, glassy eyes musing up at him with the smallest smile. Reaching down between his thighs, a rumbled growl vibrates his chest upon finding the area already dripping with slick. He rolls the sticky substance between his fingers and without bending down to put them close, he is able to fully breathe in the mouth watering scent of undisturbed desire. 

It’s moments like these that Ezar has to reel himself in, take a second to clear his thoughts and keep that primal beast inside of him at bay. In some ways it is easier to do so when Lo’ak isn’t fighting his every other word. Open rebellion has a tendency to stir his instincts into proving his claim once more, even if it is to his own omega. There are times for that, however, times where the alpha is smart enough to recognize that Lo’ak himself is the one to instigate it. 

For now, however, he is focused on slipping his pretty omega deep into subspace for as long as possible, showing him the true ecstasy that comes from being obedient for him. He prays to Eywa that tonight will be enough to keep the boy in line for at least a few days. If not, Lo’ak is sure to just egg him on for another rough railing that leaves them both satisfied and delirious. 

His eyes never leave his mate’s face as he situates the boy’s legs around his waist and trails a finger along his puckered hole. With the little strength left, Lo’ak’s legs cinch around him and try to bully his ass against Ezar’s heavy hanging cock. The alpha rolls his eyes fondly. Leave it to his little spitfire to find subtle ways to try topping from the bottom. 

Still wanting to draw this out to make a point, he uses one hand to skate his mushroom tips back and forth his mate’s plump cheeks and clenching hole. Their aroused scents are already coalescing in the air to create a beautiful essence of complimenting passions. The cold air chills the inside of his nose upon flaring his nostrils to greedily inhale more of that delicious aroma. It’s a perfume that the alpha has quickly become addicted to, possessive and delighting in the fact that he will be the only one to ever enjoy it in its full bloom. 

“Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Lo’ak sobs. It is then that he notices the tears sparkling along the omega’s dark skin, running fast enough to reach his collarbone. 

Ezar almost hates himself for acknowledging it, but his cock always strains and twitches at the beautiful sight of those tears. The way they flush against his reddened cheeks and create a dazzling glow over dazed eyes. His pretty little mate sobbing and on the brink of breaking, but only broken for him. Only him. This masterpiece to behold belongs to him alone. 

Lo’ak’s face is captured together in a firm grip, plush cheeks squishing beneath his fingertips, before he is being pulled slowly into a deep kiss. And then finally, finally, he feels the thick mushroom tip prod at his entrance, starting the path inside his gummy walls. 

It’s fascinating to Ezar how after so many times being filled and stretched, those slick walls still clamp around him like a vice, tight enough to require real force to get anywhere past the tip.  A pained groan is released into his mate’s mouth and his tail coils and flickers rapidly. Lo’ak’s random babbling and sobbing only serve as sensuous music to his euphoric pleasure. 

“God!” Lo’ak shrieks when he manages to make it an inch past the tip. The word still sounds foreign to the alpha, but he has picked up enough of the Sky Demon lingo to understand the heated emotion behind. 

“Had you sitting on my cock less than twenty minutes ago and your little hole has still managed to tighten up.” He breathes heavily into the omega’s neck. Lo’ak’s elbow almost hits his head while resuming his efforts to yank on the bonds. He contemplates scolding the boy for creating more unnecessary injury to his wrists but then the omega is clamping around him and Ezar has to use all of his control to not tip over the edge right then and there. 

Breath stuttering in his lungs, Ezar cools his zeal and slowly continues to glide forwards. Lo’ak on the other hand is fed up and tired of waiting. 

“Want it all! Please alpha please! Faster!” He cries uncontrollably and the alpha decides that his patience has run out too.

“Bossy little thing you are.” Snapping hips bring the tip racking against that sweet spot without stop or gentile. He wishes he had a camera to capture the absolute mess of sensations that flashes across Lo’ak’s face, almost as if he is buffering for a moment in time. Swollen parted lips, pink cheeks, blown out pupils, and those persistent two braids that Ezar is so fond of splayed across his sweaty forehead. 

He keeps his grip on his mate’s cheeks, forcing him to remain facing the alpha for his own viewing pleasure. 

Ezar pulls out to the very tip before slamming back inside and if that concoction of whimpers and dizzied expression that comes from his mate is not the most beautiful display to witness, he doesn’t know what is. He creates a sprinting pace, maliciously hitting that sweet spot over and over until Lo’ak is screeching with every assault. It takes considerable effort to keep himself from following his mate in getting lost through the haze of pleasure and lust. He allows himself the luxury of pounding away without a stop in zeal but only with a careful eye on Lo’ak’s reaction to every movement. 

This is meant to drive a point home, make Lo’ak realize what he is getting himself into with this disobedient behavior, but even Ezar knows that deep down this is what the boy wants. What they both want. 

So with that in mind, Ezar drives all of his energy into massaging that bundle of nerves with every thrust and pull possible. Lo’ak shakes and cries out in a ramble of incoherent nonsense. When the omega’s back arches upwards from the woven floor, those perky little nipples catch Ezar’s eye. Still relishing in the sensation of smooth velvety walls squeezing him for dear life, the alpha begins to lick a path upward from Lo’ak’s squirming pelvis. 

Their eyes connect for a moment, or at least the thin sliver of Lo’ak’s golden eyes that peek from weighted eyelids catch his own darkened stare. Lo’ak’s scent seems to grip him as hard as his rosebud clamps around his cock when he flicks his textured tongue out at the first nipple. The string of saliva shines on the boy’s skin from the swirling of his tongue around that already hardened point but it is only when he hears the sweet words “please alpha” fall from those plush lips that Ezar cinches his own around Lo’ak’s nipple. 

The thrust and pull of hips begin an electrifying rhythm with the suckling. Pull out, suck, slam back in, finish with a brief nip to the swollen area. It stirs Lo’ak’s hazy mind into a whirlpool of oversensitivity. He no longer recognizes what is his voice filling the air versus his alpha’s. Each ripple of pleasure along his nerves pulls him deeper and deeper into this mindless state while simultaneously bring him closer to completion. 

Grinning against the left nipple now, Ezar is pleased to note his omega’s pretty little cock poking at his stomach. He nestled the mushroom tip of length to press instantly at that special spot inside, resting there heavily without reprieve before languidly stroking the soft tanhi freckled length of Lo’ak’s member.

The boy comes undone with a cry that is sure to be heard back at the communal fire. He shakes and whimpers continuously as euphoria overtakes him and the sticky white fluid is painted between them. It takes the alpha’s pelvis pressing against the omega’s own to keep him in place during the orgasm and another hand at his wrists to prevent inflicting more red outlines. 

He tsks lowly, hand coming up to show the mess his little mate has made all over him. A hint of clarity finally ripples across Lo’ak’s face as he realizes his own mistakes. 

“C-can I cum, alpha?” 

Ezar laughs fondly, sharp teeth nipping at the boy once more to see him squirm. For a moment Lo’ak thinks he is off the hook, his mate having found humor in the slip up, but then he feels the length stretching him full begin to slide out at a sinfully slow pace. Their eyes connect once more and the Sully boy tries to give a wary little smile, he likes to think of himself as charming enough in the most difficult of conundrums. 

“A little late for that, don’t you think, little one?” 

And then they are starting again, the alpha railing him with uncontrolled ferver. Lo’ak is mortified to find his own cock already springing to life. Every tickle of his nerves feels like a zap of electricity in his overstimulated state. He goes to plea and beg, for mercy or more he is not sure, but soon his mouth is occupied with his mate’s long sticky covered digits. He suckles and groans around the fingers obediently. 

“Don’t worry, baby. We just won’t count that one.” 

Lo’ak’s heart rams against his rib cage at the thought of reaching an orgasm again so quickly. His muscles and energy are completely spent, having been bound up for hours and releasing all in one moment. He’s not sure if there is enough left in him to go again. That doesn’t seem to matter however. If there is one thing Ezar is, it’s relentless. It takes this level of determination to chase after his little omega day in and day out. A heavy hand to bring him back into line while also reassuring him that there is always comfort to be found in his arms. 

Struggling only causes him to gag and slobber over the digits while furthermore draining his energy, so Lo’ak finally gives in to the onslaught of sensations. Whispered words of approval along his ear cover him like a warm blanket, tucking his own reservations away easily. 

Ezar beams with pride down at his little mate. So docile and soft beneath him. Taking everything that is given to him with only muffled whimpers and hooded eyes. The sight alone has his balls tightening in anticipation. He’s held off for so long, longer than he would’ve imagined but this time he is determined to tip Lo’ak over the edge again first. Wouldn’t want the boy to get away with too much, Eywa knows he already gets too many mischievous ideas of getting away unscathed daily. 

“Still want to be in charge, baby?”

It’s a rhetorical question but Lo’ak gurgles around his fingers in efforts to respond. Chaste kisses are peppered over the omega’s face to shush him, two digits pressing down firmly on his tongue now. 

In the dim light of their candlelight hut, their shadows dance and stretch across the floor as the sound of primal grunts and slapping skin fills the air. Lo’ak can barely tell up from down let alone keep track of the time that passes, completely enraptured by his dominant mate pulling him closer to the point of ecstasy once more. 

That coils in his lower abdomen tightens at an alarming pace. His legs kick out and muffled words in search of permission slip past his filled mouth. Luckily Ezar requires no further clarification. He can feel the omega cinching around him, another key sign he has learned means the boy is almost past the point of no return. 

“It’s ok baby. Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

As expected that is all it takes to get him spasming beneath him in a wave of pleasure. In the midst of it Lo’ak feels a bloom of warmth erupt in his core. The familiar sensation of being filled to the brim spurs on his orgasm to prolong and erupt in an unfathomable amount of pleasure. Ezar groans out spewed words of praise and sensuous promises into the crook of his neck as he tries to keep his full body weight off of the boy. 

Fingers slip from his mouth slowly, tethered by a string of saliva, and Lo’ak gasps for air. The world blurs around him, making it feel close to an out of body experience as he floats in the post orgasmic haze. He barely registers the bonds being cut and drags of a wet cloth clean him up before his body is tucked against the alpha. The warmth of his skin is luring and his hindbrain is quickly obeyed upon releasing its desire to nuzzle close, to get drunk off of the heavy essence securing him safely in place. 

Ezar knows better than to try and speak sense into the omega at this point. Instead, he lets times pass leisurely as he admires his little mate close to passed out on top of him. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for Lo’ak’s brain to come back online and with that comes the omega’s worries. Unsurprisingly, the first concern pressing at the forefront of his mind is his father’s reaction to the events of the day. Ezar, however, sternly quiets those concerns with promises of talking to Jake Sully in the morning. 

“Sleep now, my omega.” 

And Ezar is ecstatic to find him obeying immediately. 

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