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Hot Training Session	By : PnKnG Category: +S through Z > Wakfu Views: 2217 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Wakfu, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. else there would be way more smut in the show :P

Chapter List
- 1-Hot Training Session
- 1
This fanfic is a cowriting between me and Freerunnercho ( http://cartoon.adult-fanfiction.org/authors.php?no=1296872251 ) so check her profile for more smutty goddess ^_^

As always, the bow sat steadily in her hand, no tremble of strain, no subtle shift of poor aim, just an extension of her arm, her body, her Wakfu itself. Eva slowly, much more slowly that she would in actual combat, of course, touched the center of the hold, pulling back to form the simplest of arrows, glowing softly as she strung it, tightened and prepped it for what she already knew would be a perfect release.
“Hello, my Evangeline,” Tristepin’s voice appeared at her side, Eva’s concentration shattering, her shoulders tensing and the arrow flying… in the completely wrong direction. Tristepin wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a finger to his chin. “Hmmm,” he cocked his head to the side as though in curiosity. “I always that you were a better shot than that.” Eva held her tongue, yanking herself out of his grip with a defined rolling of her eyes.
“You distracted me.” She said simply, chin raised, as she aimed again, but Pinpin’s chuckle was demanding too much of her focus.
“You’re saying I’m distracting enough to fault a Cra with her bow?” He hummed. “I’m flattered.”
Eva closed her eyes, trying to decide whether her shoulders were shaking from anger or suppressed laughter. She opted for the latter and spun around to face Pinpin, arrow still poised for a shot. Tristepin backed up, hands raised in surrender, but Eva just smirked. “Let’s see you try it then.”
Pinpin’s hands fell slightly in confusion. “Excuse me?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and she grinned.
“Let’s see you do this, Mr. Distraction,” she repeated teasingly, turning back towards the tree that held her target some fifty feet away, and releasing the taught string, arrow embedding itself in the bulls-eye with definite ease.
Pinpin only stared, offering an eloquent, “Um…” before straightening and clearing his throat, taking on the familiar demeanor of dutiful Iop as he stretched a hand out for her bow. “Of course. A Guardian of the Shushu can conquer any challenge.” Eva rolled her eyes, though her grin was unwavering as she handed the weapon over, heart warming at his obvious nervousness. With every ounce of beginner’s awkwardness, he raised the bow, trying his best to imitate her form, only to raise his hand for an arrow that wouldn’t come. He tried again, multiple times, before glancing over her shoulder at her in a panic. “I think I broke it.” Eva couldn’t help but laugh at that, coming up behind him and placing her hand over his, straightening his posture while simultaneously forming an arrow for him to practice with.
“You’re too tense, Pinpin,” she whispered softly against his neck, focusing on the target as he was, holding his position with him, letting her hands travel the taut muscles of his arms, relaxing them. “Archery is not about strength. It is about focus. Energy. The bow an extension of your hands, your straightness the arrow’s straightness. Feel it’s power here,” she placed a hand lightly above his navel. “And here.” The touch traveled upward, resting on his chest, over his heart.
“R-right,” Pinpin swallowed, nodding with so much enthusiasm that Eva had to stifle a laugh. “Energy. Focus.”
“That’s right,” Eva smirked. “Now pull back from the elbow, not the shoulder,” she said, voice low, instructing. He did so. “Aim,” she all but whispered. His eyes narrowed on the spot, his concentration almost impressive for a Iop. Waiting a beat, Evangeline leaned in just slightly, kissing him on the cheek. “And release.” Tristepin shuddered at the touch, firing the arrow out of reflex, the mark missed by a good foot and then some. Pinpin blushed, turning to face her defensively, Eva all but lost to a fit of giggles.
“Now who’s distracting?” He huffed, turning away from her, arms crossed. “Some teacher you are.” Evangeline wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close, cheek resting against the curve of his back, her lithe form nestled between his shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry, my Iop,” she said warmly, the subtle tremors of her laughter vibrating against his back. He softened some, turning to face her, the Cra fitting easily into his arms.
“I want to try again,” he smiled, though his eyes suggested something more than a simple teaching, a shiver of excitement running down Eva’s spine. She nodded, stepping away just long enough for Pinpin to turn back towards the target, bow already raised, the shift of his gaze all she needed to position herself behind him again.
Without a word, Eva ran her hand from bow to string, another glowing arrow poised and waiting in the hold as Tristepin covered her grip, both of them holding the arrow in place. It was electric, being so close to him like this, over something that was as natural to her as breathing, sharing that breath, that life, that energy with him. It was an intoxicating sensation of closeness that left her dizzy, unfocused.
“No distractions,” she whispered, more to herself than to him, a reminder. But the longer they stood there, touching but not touching, not in the way that she suddenly longed for, the harder it was to concentrate. “Ready?” She swallowed, glancing up at him, his eyes locked on the target; was he as effected as she was? “Breathe,” she whispered, feeling his back and chest expand as he did so. She licked her lips. “And release.” The arrow left them with a twang, flying not into the bulls-eye, but close, the upper edge of the target marred by his hit. Quickly, she released him, heart pounding in her ears. “Well done,” she tired, the words a little too squeaky for her taste. She cleared her throat before trying again, looking away from him. “Not bad for a Iop.”
Abruptly, she felt herself yanked forward, a hand on the small of her back while the other steadied her, lightly gripping her upper arm. Her startled yelp was swallowed at once by Tristepin’s lips against her own, Evangeline melting into that demanding but gentle embrace. The kiss deepened, Eva’s lips parting involuntarily, wanting more, searching for it, and Pinpin abided, holding her close, tongue delving past those lips into the warmth and wetness of her mouth. Eva broke away when she felt the target at her back, her chest rising sharply with a breath she hadn’t realized she’d needed. When she raised her hazy focus up to Pinpin, she couldn’t help but notice his similar panting, their hunger mutual and evident.
No exchange was needed, Eva pulling the black fabric of her top over her head as though it had been expected of her, smiling when Pinpin did the same, cloak already crumpled and forgotten at the foot of the tree by the time she’d returned attention to her Iop. Taking a moment to offer him a look that spoke volumes, a look that made Pinpin blush adorably, Eva worked herself out of the rest of her clothing. When Pinpin tried to follow suit, however, in a fluid, defining motion, Eva knelt in front of him, hands working at his pants like they’d been trained to do so, stopping only once they were pooled around his ankles, arousal no more than an inch away from her lips. Lips which wasted no time swallowing him up, Pinpin’s eyes rolling back, a hand finding the top of Eva’s head almost out of reflex, fingers tangling themselves in soft, blond strands.
“E-Eva…” He choked, trembling as she hallowed her cheeks around him, bobbing her head in a way that made him dizzy with need, spark of pleasure lighting fireworks behind his eyes. He bit back a groan, arching into her mouth with the sudden threat of his own release, a release he thwarted by pulling out, away from that perfect sensation, lifting Eva to her feet and kissing her deeply, the taste of himself lingering on her tongue.
Pulling back just enough to kiss her tenderly on the forehead, he slung his arms under her legs and lifted her up, Eva reading his intentions like a true Cra and locking her ankles at the small of his back. Then, with a final, intimately shared glance, he lowered her onto his length, entering the perfect tightness of her quivering form.
Eva trembled around him, fingers gripping almost harshly onto his arm and the back of his neck as she adjusted, the sensations overwhelming them both. But soon, being still was no longer possible, the tree bracing Eva as she bucked her hips, Tristepin groaning at the movement and burying his head in the juncture between Eva’s shoulder and neck, kissing, licking, biting at that spot as he matched her, moved with her, thrust into her.
“Y-Yes…” Eva groaned, throwing her head back, panting out incoherencies that sent tendrils of fire straight to Pinpin’s core, his motions quickening almost without his consent. Until he was pounding into her, his grip on her hips hard enough to leave bruises he’d be forced to apologize for later, his teeth scraping the delicate skin over her pulse point as he grunted against her neck.
“My Evangeline,” he panted out over and over again. “My Evangeline. My Evangeline…” All at once, she was tightening around him, crying out his name like a beautiful sort of music, a music that unwound him, broke him, and rebuilt him all at once until he was crying out too, emptying himself into her, shaking against her, every ounce of strength still in his wasted body used for holding her up. As he always would.
“Gods…” Eva swallowed, panting lightly, their chest pressed together in such a way that both erratic, but steadily slowing heartbeats could be felt. Pinpin smirked, pulling out carefully before lowering her back to her feet. She stretched, her naked form, perfect in every way to him, sending a twitch of still lingering desire straight to his groin. “You really do have a knack for the bow,” she looked said, looking over her shoulder with a wink as she bent to pick up her clothes.
“I could never be as brilliant as you, Eva.” He replied, working his legs back into his pants with a shuffle that had her giggling softly to herself.
“And I could never master the sword as you have, Pinpin,” she offered back, an underlying message hardly going unnoticed. Tristepin paused, grinning at the obvious playfulness of her gaze.
“It’s all about the form,” he held his hands out as though Rubilax was in his grip, swinging at an invisible opponent. “I’m sure with a few lessons…”
- 1
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