hi!! i hope ur doing well
could you plsssss do a lyle wainfleet x na’vi reader smut? you can do whatever with the story but if its possible could you add a part where lyle swears and readers confused bc the navi dont know swearing/english well(ofc if you dont want to add this thats okay!)
thank yew😊
not so different after all. lyle wainfleet
x fem!na'vi!reader. third-person-pov
this is such a cute idea 😩 hope you’re well too :)
context. [ takes place in ‘avatar: the way of water’ ] after weeks of being imprisoned by the recombinant squad of the rda, a na'vi finds herself alone with lyle wainfleet, who had been assigned to take the first watch of the night. suspicious curiosity about their differences quickly changes into something else.
warnings. [ SMUT ] fingering, cum-eating (he makes her taste herself), cultural/language differences, dirty talk, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, sweetheart)
a/n. yes it’s me again with the THIRD story where lyle fucks a prisoner. yes i may have a thing for stockholm syndrome
2.1k words
“Shit,” the sky man muttered under his breath, as he worked on his metal weapon and clicked things in place she didn’t understand.
Her ears flicked. She had never heard this word before. Some words of their language she knew, but not a lot and not this one. “What?”
He looked up, shooting her a look of confusion and, probably, annoyance. “What?”
“That word,” she said. “What does it mean?”
He frowned slightly. “Swearing. Cursing. You know, bad word.”
Her expression remained blank, ears tilting forward in confusion.
Lyle exhaled through his nose, trying to figure out how to explain this. “Words that you say when you’re pissed off.”
“Pissed off?”
“Angry. Frustrated. Whatever,” he tried to explain. “They ain’t polite, though.”
“Why would you say words you are not supposed to say?” she asked.
He let out a short laugh. “‘Cause sometimes it feels good to say ‘em. When you’re pissed off or—” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “I don’t know, just happens.”
She considered this. “So… they are words of anger?”
“Yeah, somethin’ like that. Makes things sound more serious, I guess.”
“Do all sky people use these words?”
“Most of ‘em, yeah.” He smirked. “Some more than others.”
Another strange custom of the sky people. Another thing that made them different from her people.
“You use them often.”
“Guilty,” he admitted with a shrug, returning his attention to his weapon. A short moment of silence followed.
“Don’t you have words for that in your language?” the recom asked.
“No.”
He shot her a glance. “You guys are weird as hell.”
A sharp breath left her nose. “At least we are not destroying other people’s homes.”
Weird.
It was the first word that came to mind, as the Na'vi woman studied his captor a few feet away from her.
Unnatural.
Their clothes, their hair, their faces, their demeanor, their language. Everything seemed so unnatural, despite them looking so similar. The height, the color, the tail, the ears. Yet, every true native could see it instantly — They were not from here. Demons in false bodies. Inadvertent from Eywa.
Trying to fit in, but still holding onto their way of life, the life of the sky people.
Her ears twitched, as the sounds of the nightly forest reached them. Distant hooting and chittering, leaves rustling around them. The fire crackled, illuminating the small clearing they had made camp on.
She had told them lighting a fire was stupid, that it would attract animals, but they did not listen. Only held up their metal weapons as an answer. They would never change their stubborn thinking, so she had stopped trying.
Sharp eyes kept flickering from the fire to him, then back to the fire. He had been the first she had noticed, on the day they took her from her people.
His skin glistened in the low light the fire casted, beads of sweat now even more visible on his smooth skin. Impressive muscles rippled beneath the stripes. Only one glance at him sufficed to see he was a warrior. The tattoo of a human skull on his right upper arm only enhanced the authorative aura he possessed. Unfortunately, she could not read what stood written underneath it, as it was not in her language. It sparked a curiosity inside her she didn’t know how to respond to.
As her shameless staring became a bit too obvious, he raised a brow.
“What you lookin’ at?” he threw in her direction, his voice gravelly.
Her eyes snapped up to meet his, ears flattening slightly. “You.”
Direct, Lyle thought. And not in a friendly way.
“You people look… different,” she stated, tilting her head. There was something guarded in her voice, like she was trying to figure him out.
He scoffed. “Different, how?”
A beat passed between them.
“Wrong.”
Despite himself, a smirk crept onto his face. That was probably what all Na'vi thought when they looked at him and his team. Not quite human anymore, but not quite Na'vi either. A demon in a false body.
“Wrong, huh? Why’s that?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely asking or mocking her. Either way, she didn’t like it. His appearance was strange enough, and his behavior made it worse. Must be a sky people thing.
“I have never seen this before,” she said carefully, her gaze dropping to his hands before flicking back up. ”Your clothes and… everything.”
“You know, it ain’t nice to judge people based on their appearance,” he said, leaning back casually which only made her tense up.
“Not judging,” she shot back. “Just watching.”
“Relax,” he scoffed. “Was just a joke.”
She blinked and held his gaze, unflinching. “It was not funny.”
Lyle didn’t react to her shutting down his ‘joke’ with her seriousness. He had to admit, it wasn't one of his best. But something about the way she stared at him, like he was some kind of puzzle she couldn’t figure out, kept him from looking away.
The girl’s gaze dropped to his hands again, lingering there longer this time. Her expression was hard to read, somewhere between suspicion and curiosity.
“That is wrong, too. Your hands.”
Five fingers. Not four. It made her skin prickle, though she wasn’t sure why. Something about it felt strange.
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with ‘em.”
He understood that this must look unsettling to her, in the same way that Na'vi hands had freaked him out at first. But the way she kept staring, like she wanted to reach out and touch them but didn’t dare, made the air between them feel heavier.
She shifted slightly, her eyes still fixed on his hand where it rested against his thigh. The firelight made the veins stand out, the extra finger somehow foreign and fascinating at once.
“Can I—” she started, then stopped herself.
Lyle noticed her hesitation. He felt a flicker of heat low in his gut, the kind that had nothing to do with the fire between them. She was curious, yes, but there was something else in the way she leaned forward.
“Can you what?” he prompted, his voice dropping lower.
She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze traveled from his hand up his arm, lingering on the muscle there, then higher. To his shoulder, his neck, the line of his jaw.
Txur, she thought. Strong.
Lyle’s smirk widened. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and I’m gonna start thinkin’ you want somethin’.”
Her ears flicked forward, eyes narrowing. “What?” His words confused her, but his change in voice made anticipation grow in her stomach.
He only grinned and shifted his weight, spreading his legs a little wider and letting his hand fall open on his knee. An invitation — if she wanted to take it. “C’mon. Look all you want.”
She hesitated, her tail swishing once behind her. Then, slowly, she moved closer. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin, could catch the scent of her hair.
Her hand hovered over his, not quite touching. Lyle watched her face, the way her pupils dilated slightly, the way her lips parted just enough to let out a soft breath.
His thoughts — predictably — went somewhere they probably shouldn’t. He wondered if she’d be this careful with everything, or if she’d lose that control once she got past her own hesitation.
“It won’t bite,” he said, his voice rough with amusement.
She shot him a look, but her fingers finally made contact. Just the tips, tracing along the back of his hand, feeling the difference in texture, in temperature.
Lyle’s jaw tightened. He told himself it was just curiosity. But the way her eyes scanned over him, how her — barely covered — chest rose and fell with each breath made his mind wander somewhere it shouldn’t.
She looked up at him then, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was thick, charged with something new.
Lyle’s gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up. He could feel his pulse in his throat, in his chest and between his legs.
She pulled her hand back suddenly, like she’d been burned, and put some distance between them. Yet, her eyes stayed on him.
“Different,” she repeated.
“Yeah.” Lyle leaned back, letting out a slow breath. “Real different.”
“They still look wrong?” he taunted, two of his long fingers sliding in and out of her slick pussy, her juices running down his hand.
Instead of answering, moan after moan ripped from her throat and made his ears twitch. Though, that wasn’t the only thing twitching — His erection strained against his cargos, begging to be released from its confines.
“C’mon,” he drawled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he curled his fingers inside her, finding that spot that made her back arch off the ground. “Answer me, pretty girl.”
She could barely form words, her hands gripping at the dirt beneath her or clawing into his clothes, her tail lashing wildly. When she finally managed to speak, her voice came out broken, desperate. “No. Not wrong.”
“No?” He pumped his fingers deeper, slower, drawing it out just to watch her squirm. “Then what?”
Her head tipped back, a strangled cry escaping her lips as his thumb found her clit, circling it with deliberate pressure. She was close, he could feel it in the way her walls clenched around his fingers, in the way her breathing became erratic.
“Tell me,” he pressed, his free hand sliding up her thigh, holding her open for him. “Changed your mind, huh?”
“Srane [Yes],“ she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand. “They are— oh— they feel so good!”
Lyle grinned, satisfied.
The tension coiled tighter inside her, every nerve ending alight with sensation. His fingers moved with practiced precision, two fingers stroking her insides, while his thumb stimulated her clit simultaneously. Both sensations sent jolts of pleasures through her, bringing her closer to the edge with every second she felt his tick fingers pumping into her.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice an encouragement against her ear.
Her breathing turned ragged, broken gasps mixing with whimpers she couldn’t suppress. The heat built and built, spreading from her core outward until it consumed everything.
When she felt her body finally tipping over the edge, her entire body went rigid as the orgasm crashed through her in waves and making her press her eyes shut. Her walls clenched rhythmically around his fingers, her hips involuntarily bucking up into his hand, as pleasure flooded every sense.
Lyle watched her come undone, his eyes hungry with satisfaction as he worked her through her peak, drawing out every last tremor until she was left gasping and shaking in his strong arms.
He kept his fingers buried deep, feeling her pulse around them as she came down from the orgasm — Lyle wasn’t done with her yet.
“Good girl,” he rasped, his voice low and rough as he slowly withdrew his fingers, making her whimper at the loss. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, chest heaving, unable to form words.
He brought his slick fingers to her lips, pressing against them. “Open.”
Her ears flattened, a flicker of defiance in her gaze even as her body trembled beneath him. But when he pressed harder, she parted her lips. She made a sound in her throat, half protest, half arousal, as her tongue moved against his fingers. He watched her face, the way her pupils dilated, the flush that spread across her cheeks.
“You know what else is different?” he asked, his voice dropping to that low, taunting rasp that made her stomach flip.
Before she could answer, his hands moved to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in the quiet night. Her eyes followed the movement, widening slightly as he undid his pants. When he freed himself, her breath caught. She stared, unable to look away, even as her ears flattened against her head in a mix of shock and lust.
“Still think I look wrong?” he drawled.
She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on him. Then she shook her head. The ache between her legs intensified, her body betraying her once again, and in her aroused state, she did not care at all.
“Come here,” he said.
She hesitated, her tail swishing once behind her. “No.”
“No?” he chuckled, dark and low. “Your body’s betrayin’ you, sweetheart.”
Her ears flicked back, heat rising to her cheeks. She hated how easily he read her, how he could see right through her defenses.
“I—” she started, then stopped herself, biting her bottom lip. “It will not fit.”
And he took that as a challenge. With only a scoff as an answer, he grabbed her waist firmly, pulling her into his lap with her legs now on either side of his hips.
“It will.”
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