Gwynriel Training/Pinned Against The Wall Headcanon
Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie sat beside each other on a couch eating snacks, all of which the house had provided at their request.
“Nesta stop drooling and pay attention”. Gwyn teased, indeed, Nesta was staring directly at her mate, eyes slightly darker as she took in his shirtless form and rippling muscles.
A snort, and the three females knew Cassian had heard her, he flexed slightly more, confirming everyone’s suspicions.
“Of course I’m drooling” Nesta drawled, scowling as she watched Cassian’s arrogant smile. “How can you look at Azriel and not drool” the three females all snickered, watching Cassian’s face drop into a scowl.
“Jealous Cas” Mor teased, sauntering in and plopping down onto the couch beside Emerie.
Indeed, Gwyn turned her gaze towards the shadowsinger, his body broad and muscles rippling, skin gleaming with sweat. He was not as wide as Cassian, but with his shadows surrounding him, he looked graceful and deadly all at once- like an angel of death, Gwyn thought.
Gwyn followed his movements, the way his arms moved, and cleared her throat, quickly looking away, cheeks burning, turning back to Nesta and Cassian’s argument.
“You’ve had five hundred years more training compared to us, and yet we’re close to beating you” Nesta scoffed, looking towards her mate. A bald face lie the three females knew, Cassian and Azriel were close to legends, but still, their egos didn’t need to hear that.
“I think we’d be able to beat you, or come close to, anyways” Gwyn added, looking at Azriel’s raised eyebrows and smiling.
“Is that so” he drawled, arms crossing his chest.
The two Illyrians began prowling towards them, and Gwyn stood up and walked towards the shadowsinger.
“Pick Az, either you trained us well or you didn’t” she smirked, watching Azriel stare down at her.
He stepped slightly closer to her. “I know how well I trained you.” His eyes scanned her face, and Gwyn’s eyes gleamed and sparkles under his perusal. “But we’re better” he finished smugly.
“Humble, aren’t you” she teased. Their chests touching, her thin Illyrian leathers the only thing separating them.
“There’s a few things I don’t need to boast about” his wings twitched behind him. “But apparently you need reminding that I could have you flat on your back on that mat in seconds.”
Gwyn swallowed, her imagination running rampant and her blood heating, Azriel smirked watching her reaction, and walked past her towards Cassian, turning his head to look at her and smirk once more.
Gwyn sent him a vulgar gesture.
He smiled, opening his mouth to respond.
“Cassian put me down!” Shrieked Nesta, where Cassian had thrown her over his shoulder.
“Tell me again who’s stronger” he said smugly, carrying his mate as if she weighed nothing.
Gwn and Azriel laughed watching the two, whilst Emerie and Mor shouted ways for her to detangle herself, and the afternoon continued in much the same manner.
“Train all you want, I’ll still beat you” Azriel drawled, walking into the training room at midnight. Gwyn stuck her tongue out at him, going back to her punches against the bag, shaking her head to clear the image of Azriel shirtless from her mind so she could concentrate.
“Feeling threatened shadowsinger” Gwyn raised an eyebrow, her punches consistent as she felt Azriel come towards her.
He grabbed the bag, using his strength to hold it steady.
“You’re at a disadvantage Gwyn” his eyes followed her body, slowly scanning every inch of her in her Illyrian leathers.
“Why’s that” she asked, breathless.
“I’ve seen you fight at your best- helped you get there. But you’ve never seen me”
He sounded so smug, Gwyn threw all her weight into the next punch, Azriel didn’t even falter.
“I’ve seen you spar” she wiped the sweat from her brow.
“You’ve seen me and Cass friendly spar, but that’s low stakes, no threat. You’ve never seen me fight”. His wings twitched, and his shadows swarmed, probably remembering the war and battles he’d fought.
Gwyn looked into his eyes, losing herself in her imagination, she could picture him on the battlefield; commanding, vicious, deadly.
“I can imagine it” she added, her voice breathless for reasons that had nothing to do with her sparring.
Gwyn raised her arm, and Azriels eyes followed his shadows that wrapped around her hand.
His eyes held hers for a second, and Gwyn smiled.
“Still don’t think it would be all that impressive” she added cheekily.
He moved away from the punch bag, coming to stand in front of her. He lifted his hand, his fingertips touching hers.
Gwyn watched amazed as his shadows swarmed and blended seamlessly with those wrapped around her hand.
His fingers intertwined with hers, and she watched transfixed as his shadows danced between the two of them.
“What!” Gwyn shrieked, as her body was hauled. Suddenly, she was pressed against Azriel, her back to his chest, one of his arms across her shoulders, the other wrapped around her waist.
“Get out of my hold Gwyn” he spoke in her ear, and Gwyn shivered as his breath brushed her neck.
“What?” She asked, her brain fuzzy, fixating only on all the points where Azriel was touching her.
“You seem to think you could win” his hold on her waist tightened as she struggled to free herself.
“Use all that training, this is as basic as it’ll get.”
He turned his head to her other side. “Prove me wrong Gwyn”.
Hearing how smug he was, Gwyn scowled, willing herself to calm down, and looked down at where he held her.
She could feel every ridge and muscle of his chest, and she had to will herself to concentrate.
She placed her foot outside of his, and turning her body, she simultaneously elbowed him, and used her other hand to grab his arm at her neck, pulling down and away from her.
“Well” she asked smugly, waiting for his praise.
Azriel shrugged, and Gwyn scowled.
“Nyx could have gotten out of that hold, I’d hardly call it impressive”
Gwyn scoffed, and a plan slowly formed in her head.
“Let’s spar then” she added, eying the mat.
Azriel laughed, a booming laugh that sounded like music, like a melody Gwyn wanted to memorise and sing to herself.
She ran at him and punched, hoping she’d have the element of suprise on her side.
“Is that the best you’ve got?” He grabbed her arm and spun her round. She tried to kick his shin, and in return he grabbed her thigh and held her in place.
“You forget something Az” she said, balancing on one leg whilst Azriel gripped the other, he squeezed her thigh in warning. She was so aware of every point of his chest that touched her, of his fingers, her skin burning at the points on her thigh he held.
She elbowed him. Azriels grip loosened marginally, and with one leg she kicked up at his chest, twisting her body into a roll as she pulled away from him.
“Nice trick” he smiled, rubbing at his chest lightly.
“You let me get out of that didn’t you” she squinted at him, staring at the mass of muscles that lined his body, at the innate strength he possessed.
He smirked, and inclined his head, crossing his arms across his chest and flexing them ever so slightly.
“Again” she beckoned him, and with one last gaze at her, he ran at her.
Gwyn pulled her arm out, aiming for the flesh of his neck, but he was so fast, he grabbed her waist, flung her upwards as if she was a doll.
She free fell for a second, but then she was in azriels arms, one of his arms under her knees and the other supporting her back, he absorbed all the impact.
“That’s 2 for 0 if I’m counting correctly Gwyn”. He held her in his arms, both breathing heavy, this close he could see every freckle, and every speck of colour in her eyes.
He slowly put her back on her feet, her body sliding against his. She gripped his shoulders, and squeezed once playfully.
“Do I look like I’m giving up anytime soon Az?” She questioned. Azriels eyes raked down the length of her, slowly taking in every inch. The look in his eyes was not the gaze of a teacher assessing a students form.
It was dark, heated, and Gwyn gripped his shoulders once more, appreciating the corded muscle and the heat of his bare skin.
Gwyn spread her fingers on his shoulders, and before he realised what she was doing, applied pressure to a small joint between his shoulder and neck.
“What the-“ Azriel flinched instinctively, and Gwyn used his distraction to elbow him once in the stomach, and brought her leg up to his shin.
Gwyn bought her elbow to his side, hoping to throw him off balance, but Azriel had recovered from his slip. Before Gwyn could take a breath, Azriel had his hands on her waist,and flipped her so fast the breath was knocked from her.
Gwyn ended up on her back on the mat, Azriel caging her with his arms on either side of her head. “What just-” she was still recovering, her head slightly dizzy and even though Azriel had absorbed most of the impact, he’d still thrown her onto her back.
“Tap out Gwyn” he leaned in, his hair tickling her neck and cheek, the length of him against her, he was huge, and she felt tiny against the bulk of him.
“I’m being nice Gwyn” he smirked watching her stubbornly refuse. He leaned down even further, right into he crook of her neck, his arms flexing on either side of her head. “Tap. Out” he growled.
Gwyn, her head a mess surrounded by so much of the Illyrian above her, slowly let a plan form. “Never” she gasped out, her legs wrapping around his waist, twisting her upper body and trying to knock Azriel sideways.
He shifted only slightly, laughed once, and in the next breath, they flew to the wall on the opposite end.
“Cheat” she gasped, her legs wrapped so tightly around his waist, every inch of their fronts melded together. Azriel held both of her hands in one of his above her head. He pulled on her arms once, and her back arched off against the wall.
“I win” he whispered, dragging his eyes across her face, lingering on her lips.
“You cheated” she retorted, leaning her head slightly against his shoulders, her arms beginning to ache.
“Did I” he smirked against her, loosening his hold on her arms so it wasn’t punishing, but still holding her.
“One day Az” she looked into his eyes. “One day, it’ll be me who has you flat on your back.”
They were walking such a fine line. Even now, she knew what he was thinking, what they both were. What they were imagining.
“I’d love to see that happen Gwyn. But I promise you this.” She watched his throat move as he swallowed, felt the way his heart beat slightly faster against her. “I’ll let you think you’re winning. And then” he release a jagged breath, dropping his hold on her arms and gripping her waist instead.
“And then, just like now, I’ll have you pinned down before you’ve even taken a breath. But I won’t be kind and I won’t be soft. And that time. That time, I won’t let you up. Not until you beg.”
Slowly, he slid her down his body to the floor, and with one last look, they both left, the promise in his words filling both their heads.
