focus | azriel
summary; you've had a bad day, and you're just trying to work out some of the stress before bed.
word count; 3729
notes; there is not even a semblance of plot here.
āYou're not focusing!ā Azrielās voice echoed off of the stones of the training room, your eyes narrowing on him as you swung the sword again, drove your elbow up again, twisted at the angle heād shown you again, and⦠and stumbled, again. He let out a ragged sigh, like his frustration was something comparable to yours, and at the sound, your final nerve seemed to fray away.Ā
āI didnāt ask you to be here, Azriel!ā His eyes widened a little at your snap, and you through the wooden training sword down at his feet, shadows scattering like birds from trees as it dug into the sand and dirt of the ring floor. His eyes followed it, hands held tightly behind his back, and when his gaze returned to you, it had narrowed into a calculating glare. āYou came up here and ruined my training session, and now youāre being a dick about it! I didnāt ask you for help, or guidance. This isnāt our weekly training session, so stop being such a prick!ā
You hated the way your lower lip wobbled as your clamped your jaw shut, hated the burning in your eyes as tears threatened to spill over, but it had been the day from hell. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. And then, everything else seemed to follow suit. Youād been shouted at and looked down on and given the most crippling disappointed looks all day. Youād missed lunch and been starving, youād almost missed dinner, your workload was behind, and to top it all off, youād been soaked in the rain on your way back from the town.Ā
By the time youād managed to just about winnow yourself up from the bottom of the mountain to the balcony, your knees had buckled as youād fallen that short gap through the wards, resulting in a dull throb you knew would be worse by morning. With a full stomach of Cassianās leftovers and a chill creeping along your spine that you really hoped wouldn't become a sickness, youād fallen into bed.Ā
Only for sleep to escape you, tossing and turning for hours.Ā
You were at the end of your tether, and Azriel was only making it worse. The person who was usually so calm and collected, the man who normally helped you solve your problems, who would make you smile on days you didnāt think it possible and laugh when you shouldnāt be, was making it so much worse.
āI thought you were angry.ā
āYou thought wrong.ā You sniped, deciding that you really didnāt have any strength left, any more witty comebacks, as tension roiled under your skin. Youād hoped that frustration at the day and the stress building up inside of you would be released through exercise, but it seemed to only be making it worse. You were so wound up that you stumbled, and tripped, and could barely think straight for the flying thoughts, making the feelings ten times worse than they had been when youād stepped foot out here an hour ago.Ā
The stars were twinkling away in a clear night sky, the moon shining down, not a single trace of any of the storm clouds that had soaked you through hours ago, and you tried to calm yourself by looking out at the pretty picture. āI thought-ā
āIāll see you tomorrow morning, alright?ā
Spinning on your heel, you barely made it two steps before a darting shadow was whipping out, cold entity wrapping around your wrist in a daring move, as Azriel let out a dissatisfied sound behind you. āDonāt turn your back on me.ā
āExcuse me?ā There was that fire, that rage, that spark you thought had gone out today, reignited with indignation at the sound of his voice. When you spun again, he was closer, silent steps carrying him towards you with such determination you almost wanted to step back. Almost. Stubbornness kept you rooted to the spot, until he was stopping with merely a foot between your bodies.
āI said, donāt turn your back on me, Iām trying to talk to you.ā
āNo, youāre yelling at me, and making me feel even shittier about an already shitty day.ā Golden eyes searched your own, a piercing stare that was hard to hold when you felt too small now, shadowed by his large frame, wings flexing each time they drooped low enough to touch the sands.
āWhy are you really up here?ā His murmur was soft, much nicer than the harsh shouting heād been resorting to for at least the last thirty minutes, and a wash of comfort soothed over your skin, like cold water on a hot day.Ā
āWhat does it matter, Az? Itās not productive, weāre both wasting our time.ā
āIt matters, because I canāt help you if you donāt tell me.ā His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out, before he was curling it into a fist by his side instead. āI thought you were angry. I thought you were up here trying to beat out your sensations on that punching bag, so I figured yelling was what you needed. I heard⦠the shadows say youāve had a bad day. I thought tough love was what you needed.ā
His throat bobbed as you stared up at him, his shoulders rising and falling scarcely an inch in a shrug youād not have even noticed if you werenāt standing so close to him. āIām not angry, Azriel. Iām stressed. I had a shitty day, and none of it was my fault but I got all the blame. I was cold, and wet, and hungry. When I decided to just sleep it all away, I couldnāt even do that. Iām not mad, Iām just tense.ā
He nodded, bright eyes sweeping over you once, assessing. You allowed yourself to do the same, though you were sure it wasnāt for the same reasons. Heād forgone the usual training gloves, leather with cut-off fingertips, bare skin trailing up from scarred hands to smooth flesh over his arms, across biceps that seemed to bulge even when he relaxed. All the way up, to the hastily cut-off sleeves of a tank top, flowing so loosely you could see traces of the swirling black ink across his chest with each tiny movement, and you choked down thickly, before diverting your gaze behind him, forcing yourself to look away.
He moved, taking barely two steps until he was behind you, hands settling on your waist and your spine straightened in a gasp. His fingers flexed, smoothing a little further down to sit on your hips.Ā
āYouāre not using the right form, youāre slouching because youāre tired and youāre probably sore.ā With one hand still on your hip and the other on your stomach, brushing across the bare skin exposed by your cropped raining shirt, he pushed. Your body jerked under his movements, core muscles tightening as he shifted your hips to how you knew they should have been, engaged and active, making it easier to move.Ā
One foot between your own, his boots tapped roughly, kicking your ankles apart, and his knee dragged up along the back of yours, until he was pressing behind, your body dropping down, no longer locked up.Ā
āLike this.ā His breath was a whisper over the shell of your ear, baritone voice all but a rumble as he spoke softly. The hand on your hips squeezed, the thumb on your stomach swiped delicately, a caress that lasted barely a few stroked before he was pulling his hand back. āYouāre still not letting yourself hold it.ā
āWe can try again tomorrow.ā
āYou just need to loosen up a little.ā Heavy hands clamped down on your shoulders, your body locking up all over again as he stepped up closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sweat and earth and mist that exuded from him. Your lungs couldnāt take a full breath, wouldn't take a full breath, eyes fluttering a little as he applied pressure. āLet me help you relax a little.ā
His fingertips pressed into your collarbones, dipping under the straps of your tight workout bra, while his thumbs began to rub soothing circles into the tight muscles of your shoulders. His grip was tight but not harsh, rubbing slowly at every knot and pull, and your head slipped forwards, a groan spilling from your lips as he worked at the muscles in your neck.Ā
He chuckled, touch moving outwards just a little, to your shoulders, rubbing there gently, shadows once again pooling around both of your feet now, encasing you in a dark cloud as they rose up your calves. āGood?ā
āGood.ā You mumbled, his touch sliding down to the tops of each arm, squeezing, pressing, like he knew just where to touch to press out every bit of tension you were holding onto. The further down your arms he got, the closer he pressed, until your back was up against his front, your body seeming to go weak as he worked, roughly scarred fingers moving down and down along your arms until his fingertips were weaving with your own, holding tight as he pulled them back, settling both sets of joined hands on your stomach. āIām sorry for shouting at you.ā
āSāokay. You were only trying to help.ā Your mind was foggy, head rolling back onto his arm, a dulled smile on your lips as you sagged back into him, not taking even a second to think about what you were doing. This was your mentor, your trainer, your best friend, and his thumb was slowly swiping back and forth across your knuckles as you let him bear your weight, drowning in his scent with your eyes closed.Ā
He hummed, one hand detaching from yours, your arm falling back to slackened at your side, and you thought heād pull away, before his fingers were back on your body, your breath hitching and eyes snapping open at the jolt his touch gave you. He dragged his finger slowly, so slowly, up and down your stomach, goosebumps rising on your skin each time he brushed the hem of your leggings, or the seam of your bra. His chin came to rest on your shoulder by the fifth turn, and his fingertip dared to drag a little higher. Bumping over the material he normally stopped at, that same finger dared an inch higher, sitting in the dip just below where your breasts would meet in the middle, daring no higher, before he was dragging down again.Ā
āAz..ā
āShh, sāokay. I got you.ā He dragged back up, daring higher again, that finger dragging up until he was pressing over the fabric sitting directly between your breasts, your chest heaving with heavy breaths, and he paused, waiting. Waiting for you to pull away, to give him a sign, to say something. The air was crackling between you both, hanging on the precipice of something else entirely, and you didnāt think youād be able to speak even if you wanted to. Instead, you opted to squeeze at your still-connected hands, getting one squeeze back, and a kiss on your shoulder.Ā
Then, that finger moved. Scraping across to the side, firmer and firmer until pressing down on one taut nipple, and you arched up into his hand on a shaky breath, a whine. He remained a moment, before his hand was encasing you entirely, squeezing until your head was rolling against his shoulder, a plea you could barely get out on a breath. He left a single kiss on your cheek before freeing his other hand to join, fingers skating up your arm, leaving goosebumps in wake of his featherlight touch, before joining the first on your chest.Ā
He took his time, slow and teasing, leaving kisses dotted along your neck each tie your head tipped a little further back. You were solely dependent on him to hold you up now, back arching against his chest as he toyed with you. He pinched and twisted, enough that you cried out at the jolts of pain, before he was soothingly rubbing once again, distracting you with his tongue and teeth against your neck. When youād finally stopped panting, heād be back at it again, winding you tighter and tighter, until your head was spinning, and your gasps had melted into incoherent babble.Ā
āAzriel, please, please, just do something, youāre driving me out of my mind!ā
āThatās the point, sweetheart.ā He left a particularly rough bite to the juncture of your neck, lapping at it with his tongue when you cried his name, letting it bounce around off of the walls like his shouts at done not so long ago. āWeāre trying to get you out of your pretty little head, stop you thinking so much.ā
āBut- please.ā You didnāt even know what you were begging for, too wound up to think properly, too wound up to think at all, and he tugged the love of your ear between his teeth softly, before finally giving in. You felt like you were on fire, panting like youād run across all of Velaris as his fingers inched back down, lower and lower, taunting as they smoothed along the hem of your leggings.Ā
āI can smell you, sweetheart. So sweet and needy for it, youāre practically rubbing yourself against my cock through all these layers.ā You didnāt know when youād started rolling your hips, and somewhere in you, that strong and stubborn vice was yelling at him, but the feeling of his touch and the pleasure he gave long since obliterated any pride you had left. āThis isnāt the first time. Dāyou know how distracting you are, always walking around in your tight little leggings, smelling so good when you stare at me, thinking I donāt know. Now look at you, letting me put my hands all over you, huh?ā
His fingertips dipped below the waistband before you could talk back, before you could protest with anything, not that you would, and you all but trembled in anticipation. You were right there on the brink already; his teasing, his taunting, his talking, it had dragged you so close to climax that you were shaking for it, and when one rough fingerpad pressed your clit, you exploded. Your nails were digging into his arm as you gripped him, the other sliding around your body to hold your squirming form to him, head tossed back in bliss.Ā
The dark chuckle he gave should have humiliated you, should have been enough to shove him off, but you didnāt care, not when that same finger was dipping lower, lower, swirling through the gush of arousal, your panties soaked, and he seemed happy with what he found. A choked groan left him, swirling slowly, finger prodding at your entrance only once, before dragging back up to smear over the still sensitive bundle of nerves heād barely even had to touch.Ā
His body shifted behind you, planes of solid muscle shifting against your back and thighs before he was kicking your legs further apart, your knees shaking from it, opening you up wider for his touch.Ā
āSo fuckinā wet for me, love. This all mine?ā He pressed at that bud again, your hips jerking up into his hand with a soft cry, and when your head fell to the side, twisted to him, his nose brushed your own. He waited, and when no words came from your lips, he pinched at your clit harshly, enough for your knees to give way, only his arm around you holding you up. āAnswer me when I talk to you.ā
āYes! Yes, yes, yes, Az, please,ā Tears felt like they were lining your eyes, your throat was raw, the sheer intensity of your need was so surprising you couldn't breathe, and when he sunk a single finger into you, his resulting moan was like music to your ears.
āFuck, youāre grippinā me so tight. So good, huh, you deserve it. Let me give it to you, let me take away all this tension.ā
āI want that, I want that.ā Tomorrow youād be embarrassed, that heād reduced you to such simple words, to such simple begging, but your hips were rolling down into his hand, a second rippled finger joining his second one and slamming back into you, the heel of his hand rubbing all the right places as he let you ride down onto his fingers.Ā
It was filthy, and wet, and when his lips met your own you swore youād never felt anything like it. His kiss was sloppy and unhurried and filthy, broken only by encouraging mumbles into your mouth that made you clench even tighter around him, by his own groans in response to your needy whines, fingers slamming in and out of you, stretching you wide, scissoring until the stretch bordered on pain, only for a third finger to join the mix.Ā
When he crooked them, dragging down your walls and finding the spot that made your entire body jump, come alive again, you came. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open, toes curling into your shoes so tight they cramped. With a pathetic scream of his name, one you were sure would have reached out between the open pillars and down to Velaris had he not kissed the sound away. A real kiss, his mouth over yours, lips dragging and tongue stroking and this was it. This was the kind of sex youād waited your whole life for, the kind of sex that made sweat break out on your skin late at night in Nestaās borrowed smutty books, the kind of sex that made you want to fall to your knees for him.Ā
He rode you through it, fingers slowing down as lewd sounds accompanied his movements, noises that should have been shameful were it not turning you on more. You pressed down, following his retreating touch, clenching around him to keep his fingers right there. Your nails dug into his arm, pleasure bordering on the brink of insanity as nonsense spewed from you.Ā
āMore, more, more. Azriel, I need- I need it, I-ā
His hand wrapped around your throat, cutting you off with a squeak and his fingers slammed back into you, so roughly you rose onto your tiptoes to follow his hand, and a bliss so intense curled at your lower spine, wrapping all the way up until your eyes rolled back overtook you. āMy greedy girl, you want to come again? I love the feel of you on my fingers, can only imagine how good youād feel on my tongue or my cock. So tight, and warm. Ask again, use your manners, maybe Iāll give it to you.ā
āPlease, please, give it to me, Az.ā You pressed down into his hand, and he let you, doing nothing to help but letting you ride against his fingers, whining and keening at his lack of movement, chuckling as he sucked a mark into your neck.Ā
āYou think you can take another one?ā He crooked his fingers, just enough to tease, and you thought you might actually be sobbing as need overtook you.Ā
āI can!ā
āI like you like this. Needy, begging, so good for me. Youāre always so strong, I like being able to take you apart like that.ā He repeated it, further this time, and a sob actually did leave your lips. āTell me itās only me, even if you lie. Tell me Iām the only one who can do this to you.ā
āYou are, you are.ā Your hips rolled, feeling his cock pressing into you from behind, a choked-off hiss on his lips. āIām not lying Az, itās only you.ā That seemed to be the trick, because just like that, he was moving again.Ā
His fingers were slamming in and out thumb swiping your clit back and forth, the abused bud throbbing desperately, overstimulated and pulsing and the spark of pain only made everything else so good. You were on your tiptoes, digging into him as you shook, holding onto him, every muscle winding tighter and tighter in your body as it crested.Ā
āLet it go, pretty girl. Give it to me. Itās mine, I want it.ā A press on your clit, a slam of his fingers, and you were gone. Vision-spotting ecstasy as you alternated between screams and sobs of his name, slick gush racing from you, making such a mess as he rode you through it all, kissing in a soft contrast to his brutal hand between your legs. āAttaā girl, let me have it all.ā
It seemed to go on forever, nerves firing in relief and bliss, finally unfurling as the orgasm washed over you again and again. You reached up, one shaking hand cupping his jaw as you twisted his head towards you, catching his lips in a sweet kiss. He was smiling, you could feel it against your lips as his tongue swept across your lower one, sucking lightly as he pulled back, leaving you to pant for air as your heart raced so hard it could bruise.
His fingers slipped from you, leaving you to feel cold and empty, slumped against him and watching with wide eyes as he rose three glistening fingers up, slipping them into that same mouth that had been claiming yours seconds ago. He licked them clean, a sparkle in his eye that promised nothing but filth and passion and mind-shattering orgasms as he hummed around the three fingers shoved in there.
You were slumped against him, shadows that had become a violent frenzy in their masterās arousal were finally calming, like a hurricane the two of you had been in the eye of, revealing the same dark sky, the training ring, the abandoned equipment once again.Ā
When you were finally stable enough to stand on shaky legs once again, he left one more kiss on your temple, before pulling back, wiping wet fingers on his shirt and smirking at your shocked stare. āNow, are you feeling better?ā
You could only nod, dumbfounded, and watching a spray of dirty sand come up as he kicked the discarded training sword over to you.Ā
āGood, weāre not going to bed until you get it right.ā We. There was a promise in his words, one that sent a whole fresh wave of excitement zapping up your spine. āNow, pick that up, and try again.ā
āGood, weāre not going to bed until you get it right.ā There was a promise in his words, one that sent a whole fresh wave of excitement zapping up your spine. āNow, pick that up, and try again.ā














