[ Once her tongue breaks his defenses, it's all hands on deck - or in this case, reaching for Pyrrha's back, right underneath her shirt. It's a familiar setting, they've been here before, way back when they got drunk. Strangely, he doesn't feel any more sober now.
However, what happens now is that it creates this awkward poor timing in which they both fumble with each other's clothes. He can't remove her shirt when she's trying to solve the puzzle that are his belts! Nevermind that their faces are still practically glued to each other. Momentarily, Jaune abandons the idea with a smile as his own tongue makes itself known.
He's not helping with the belt at all, though. :) ]
Mm -- [ Yeah, it isn't easy! She's eventually able to pry apart the buckle on his belt, tugging the two leather ends apart and partly out of his jeans. Not all the way, however. Correctly or otherwise, Pyrrha believes they have time, and a darkened, empty house; she sees no reason to rush.
Well, in theory. There's still the heat flushing through her, an emotion left unhitched and given too much material form in this strange world. Every kiss felt like it could be her undoing, far past the welcome delirium of love and closeness and Jaune, into something else, something so strong it frightens her a little, although not enough to stop. Her heart is beating mercilessly, its little trembles becoming quakes that almost leave her nauseous, except that sensation is overwritten by something gloriously swooping, like staring over the edge of a cliff. His arms encircle her, and Pyrrha's grateful for that too, for something strong to support her, for the sphere where she can feel safe and loved, wanted.
So, perhaps she's not exactly rushing, but she is eager. Even with simple kissing, Pyrrha barely feels like one person anymore. There's a frantic edge to her exploration of his mouth, tongue gently probing as if it had never done so before.
Her hand does eventually drop from his chest - (bye, rockhard pecs) - and there's the faint hiss of leather sliding through cloth as his belt is pulled from the loops. It's dropped unceremoniously and then she's assisting his own effort, arms rising above her head.
In a moment, she'll notice his sash, her tribute, and that won't be something she'll be able to remove without his explicit permission, but (fortunately) we're not there yet. ]
[ Her arms go up, and so does her shirt! For a brief fraction of a second, the fabric of her clothing broke Jaune's eye contact with her. For one tiny, arguably insignificant moment, Jaune could no longer see her - Pyrrha was gone (again), and then she was back (again!!). It hits Jaune in such an unexpected way that he has to pause as her shirt lands next to his belt. Every thought, feeling and emotion he has ever experienced thanks to (and for) Pyrrha starts to come back to him in this one condensed moment.
His eyes remain locked with hers, as if he had seen her come back to life again for the first time. She may catch him on the verge of welling up, but he quickly finds himself back in the moment - here, now, where it matters. ]
Pyrrha...
[ Before he could say anything more, his tongue plunges back between her lips, tasting her again as both their tongues twine around each other. His hands drive into her lush red hair, grabbing a handful as he starts taking a few steps backwards, towing her along.
The room begins to vibrate a little. A vase falls.
He tries to lead her towards the bed as they continue this kiss, but he feels his pants begin to slip and abandons Pyrrha's hair with one hand to catch the jeans from sliding down (only because he didn't want to trip over them......).
A hanged painting starts to melt off its canvas, and then the canvas falls, too.
Something's happening. ]
this tag took so long to write that the form submission borked
[ Her shirt falls, becoming little more than a forgotten puddle of fabric on the floor, but Pyrrha can barely get her thoughts together long enough to consider the next step. Jaune is here, seizing her mouth with his fervency, drawing a startled - (but not displeased) - little sound from the pit of her throat. That small noise escalates into a mewl, not protesting, when his hands wrench through her hair, compromising the integrity of her ponytail and pulling at the roots. These are all sensations that stop just at the saccharine edge of painful; his force is abrupt, intense, perhaps just a little excessive, but Pyrrha responds in kind, her nails scoring down his back as she presses closer, deeper, kissing him like she fights. If she could crawl down his throat, she would.
She thinks, something is wrong.
She's right, because the few tea candles she has on her dresser suddenly flicker to life, wicks alighting with flames that briefly threaten to scorch the ceiling, that make her feel like she's holding her face up to a furnace. They settle in size after a beat, but that doesn't change the gravity of the situation.
She thinks, I should stop.
There, she doesn't quite know if she's right. She doesn't want to stop. Little things are escaping her purview, things that would previously have been important. For instance, with her shirt off, he would have been able to see the scar left by Cinder's arrow, the fatal wound she has no cause to boast of, the reason she now hides her neckline. On a typical day, she's too conscious of that scar, to the point of imagining the tissue constrict and itch whenever she feels threatened, or afraid. That's just one example. Her usual sense of restraint is another, her content toward taking things slow, her responsibility, her sense of planning and opportunity -- Pyrrha feels so little like herself, or a different version of herself. She knows that what she's feeling is real, and overwhelming, and can only be sated to livable levels by giving herself to him.
So, if something's happening, well - fine. Let it happen around them. She set him and her love for him aside once, she has no wish to do it again. Inexplicable (but unquestioned) urgency fills her once more, higher, more pressing. Naked sentiment squeezes her heart so tightly, it feels difficult to breathe, or it would, if he wasn't filling her with his breath.
The room hasn't quite stopped trembling, either. The mirrors and windows have all fogged up, moisture from some arbitrary heat running down their glassy surfaces in rivulets. Fortunately, the effects seem to stop at the closed door, not that Pyrrha is thinking too hard about that.
His name breaks from her lips like a gasp, ] Jaune—
[ She can't get much out aside from that. Their shared awkward shuffles around the room does eventually get them to the bed, balancing sacrificed as they fall in a heap. Pyrrha quickly clambers to straddle him, wrapping her legs around his waist as her lips find the spot just below his ear. ]
[ This time, he can barely say her name before breath escapes him. This is too much, and yet at the same time, it's not nearly enough. A hunger surges inside Jaune, and he wants more - he demands more, which is typically uncharacteristic of him, but they seem to have thrown any sense out the window the moment they sullied the bed with all that mud on them. It's probably a good thing that Pyrrha has him pinned down, getting a grip on him in this slippery state could be a bit of a challenge.
Pyrrha's newly exposed skin is clean and dry, however, at least until Jaune wraps both arms around her back and presses her down against his unwashed self. He needs to feel her body against his, her scarred chest (that he had already known about!) against his own. The need for touch overwhelms him. It feels like they're melting together.
...or maybe something's just happening to the bed? It's as if they're sinking, though Jaune's attention seems to be more focused on undoing Pyrrha's bra (he won't make it!). ]
[ She's pulled down on top of him as she covers his face in kisses, slow and sensual but with an underlying desperation, feeling his mud-damp fingers slip up her spine and work with the clasp of her bra. It does come undone, but before she can lift her arms to slide the the straps off her shoulders...
A few bolts pop loose off the bed, dropping to the floor. This is followed by the mattress caving in, buckling under their weight and bending to touch the floor as the boards supporting the box spring underneath give way.
Finally, each side of the bed bursts off, the headboard slamming against the wall with enough force to damage it.
However, with the mattress still underneath them, just... on the floor now, Pyrrha can't quite find this enough of a reason to stop, still trying to fumble her way out of her bra.
Someone else may disagree, though. That was quite a loud disruption! ]
[ and walking up the stairs and just outside the door is the world's cutest cockblock, penny! she definitely heard the slamming of a wall being damaged and something falling when she was on the lower floor, and is now investigating like a good housemate should.
it did sound like it came from pyrrha's room, so that's where she heads first! she's been working on social cues so she doesn't barge in right away, but she's about three seconds away from doing so. ]
[ Sitting up, with her thighs still clamped around his waist, Pyrrha reaches behind her to slip her bra's clasp back together. Jaune had been right, there are footsteps coming down the hall, either towards the door or past it, but she isn't especially inclined to take that chance.
Hurriedly, she pulls her shirt back on (backwards) and then,
... hands him her winter coat?
LOOK SHE'S NOT THINKING VERY CLEARLY RIGHT NOW
Regardless, seeing feet peek out from under her door, she'll call out, ]
[ The shirtless Jaune uses Pyrrha's winter coat to tie it around his waist, even though his pants are still loosely on him.
Don't ask.
By the time Penny enters, Jaune is standing over the broken bed. It's quite dirty with mud and so is he, not to mention the broken decorations around the room. ]
P-Pennyyyyy... heyyyyy...
I-I was just, I-- Pyrrha just, I'm, we're, I'm, uh, helping Pyrrha with, uh... that... that thing... you know that thing...
Salutations, Pyrrha! [ oh hey. ] And hello to you as well, Jaune! I didn't know you were here, too.
[ honestly, penny thought she was the only one in the house. everyone else seemed to be out and about, but it's good that she knows they're here now! now they can spend some good quality friend time together :)
still, she's at least observant enough to have a look around. the two of them look pretty dirty... and flushed... and the bed frame is broken! wowzers! ]
It sure is a mess in here... Did you guys make that sound?
[ Pyrrha glances behind her, none too subtly, at the bed... and then notices the way her coat is helpfully shielding Jaune's probable erection. (Oh, boyfriend.)
She turns back at Penny, smiling broadly. It's a bit over-compensating. ]
A few bolts popped loose off my bed. Jaune was just... he came by to help me fix it!
[ That explains precisely one (1) of about twelve different things Penny could remark on. ]
[ Jaune, too, over-compensates by turning his back to Penny as he pretends to inspect the bed. ]
A-Ah, yup, that-- hahah... that sure is a... a broken bed... damn, whoever installed it seems to have used the N-49 bolts instead of the... GXPK27. [ ?????? ] That-- yeah, that's your problem.
[ Jaune comes to the conclusion that it wasn't believable enough, so he adds more flavour to the story: ]
Also, you were jumping on it too much. Didn't we talk about this before? Yeah, we did, I-- yep. So, y'know. Stop that.
[ said completely genuinely! why else would the bed have broken? it isn't like sleeping is a very strenuous activity, and jumping on one sounds like it would be very fun. ]
Did you need some help? You both look like you're very out of breath.
Oh, thank you very much, Penny, but - um - we're fine!
[ They are quite out of breath, yes. Pyrrha can't imagine they'll pick up where they left off before the interruption, but the emotional hangover, as it were, is overwhelming Pyrrha a bit.
... Out of nowhere, she turns her head to hide her smothered laughter. ]
[ Pyrrha's suppressed laughter is starting to give Jaune the giggles, too. He's not even sure why they're laughing, but the more he tries to stifle it, it just fills him with more euphoria. ]
A-Ahahactually I think I might take a cold shower, hahah! How about this heat, you guys? Pffwh...!
[ and people say that she's weird! she's not sure what's very funny about a bed being broken, and both jaune and pyrrha seem to be acting very oddly. the emotions in the air are palpable enough to be a bit confusing for her...
leaving them be sounds like a good idea. ]
...I will leave you guys to that! But if you need any help, I'm a mind message away.
[ hopefully by then they'll be acting normally. for now, she'll be shutting their door closed again with no finesse whatsoever. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
However, what happens now is that it creates this awkward poor timing in which they both fumble with each other's clothes. He can't remove her shirt when she's trying to solve the puzzle that are his belts! Nevermind that their faces are still practically glued to each other. Momentarily, Jaune abandons the idea with a smile as his own tongue makes itself known.
He's not helping with the belt at all, though. :) ]
no subject
Well, in theory. There's still the heat flushing through her, an emotion left unhitched and given too much material form in this strange world. Every kiss felt like it could be her undoing, far past the welcome delirium of love and closeness and Jaune, into something else, something so strong it frightens her a little, although not enough to stop. Her heart is beating mercilessly, its little trembles becoming quakes that almost leave her nauseous, except that sensation is overwritten by something gloriously swooping, like staring over the edge of a cliff. His arms encircle her, and Pyrrha's grateful for that too, for something strong to support her, for the sphere where she can feel safe and loved, wanted.
So, perhaps she's not exactly rushing, but she is eager. Even with simple kissing, Pyrrha barely feels like one person anymore. There's a frantic edge to her exploration of his mouth, tongue gently probing as if it had never done so before.
Her hand does eventually drop from his chest - (bye, rockhard pecs) - and there's the faint hiss of leather sliding through cloth as his belt is pulled from the loops. It's dropped unceremoniously and then she's assisting his own effort, arms rising above her head.
In a moment, she'll notice his sash, her tribute, and that won't be something she'll be able to remove without his explicit permission, but (fortunately) we're not there yet. ]
no subject
His eyes remain locked with hers, as if he had seen her come back to life again for the first time. She may catch him on the verge of welling up, but he quickly finds himself back in the moment - here, now, where it matters. ]
Pyrrha...
[ Before he could say anything more, his tongue plunges back between her lips, tasting her again as both their tongues twine around each other. His hands drive into her lush red hair, grabbing a handful as he starts taking a few steps backwards, towing her along.
The room begins to vibrate a little. A vase falls.
He tries to lead her towards the bed as they continue this kiss, but he feels his pants begin to slip and abandons Pyrrha's hair with one hand to catch the jeans from sliding down (only because he didn't want to trip over them......).
A hanged painting starts to melt off its canvas, and then the canvas falls, too.
Something's happening. ]
this tag took so long to write that the form submission borked
She thinks, something is wrong.
She's right, because the few tea candles she has on her dresser suddenly flicker to life, wicks alighting with flames that briefly threaten to scorch the ceiling, that make her feel like she's holding her face up to a furnace. They settle in size after a beat, but that doesn't change the gravity of the situation.
She thinks, I should stop.
There, she doesn't quite know if she's right. She doesn't want to stop. Little things are escaping her purview, things that would previously have been important. For instance, with her shirt off, he would have been able to see the scar left by Cinder's arrow, the fatal wound she has no cause to boast of, the reason she now hides her neckline. On a typical day, she's too conscious of that scar, to the point of imagining the tissue constrict and itch whenever she feels threatened, or afraid. That's just one example. Her usual sense of restraint is another, her content toward taking things slow, her responsibility, her sense of planning and opportunity -- Pyrrha feels so little like herself, or a different version of herself. She knows that what she's feeling is real, and overwhelming, and can only be sated to livable levels by giving herself to him.
So, if something's happening, well - fine. Let it happen around them. She set him and her love for him aside once, she has no wish to do it again. Inexplicable (but unquestioned) urgency fills her once more, higher, more pressing. Naked sentiment squeezes her heart so tightly, it feels difficult to breathe, or it would, if he wasn't filling her with his breath.
The room hasn't quite stopped trembling, either. The mirrors and windows have all fogged up, moisture from some arbitrary heat running down their glassy surfaces in rivulets. Fortunately, the effects seem to stop at the closed door, not that Pyrrha is thinking too hard about that.
His name breaks from her lips like a gasp, ] Jaune—
[ She can't get much out aside from that. Their shared awkward shuffles around the room does eventually get them to the bed, balancing sacrificed as they fall in a heap. Pyrrha quickly clambers to straddle him, wrapping her legs around his waist as her lips find the spot just below his ear. ]
no subject
[ This time, he can barely say her name before breath escapes him. This is too much, and yet at the same time, it's not nearly enough. A hunger surges inside Jaune, and he wants more - he demands more, which is typically uncharacteristic of him, but they seem to have thrown any sense out the window the moment they sullied the bed with all that mud on them. It's probably a good thing that Pyrrha has him pinned down, getting a grip on him in this slippery state could be a bit of a challenge.
Pyrrha's newly exposed skin is clean and dry, however, at least until Jaune wraps both arms around her back and presses her down against his unwashed self. He needs to feel her body against his, her scarred chest (that he had already known about!) against his own. The need for touch overwhelms him. It feels like they're melting together.
...or maybe something's just happening to the bed? It's as if they're sinking, though Jaune's attention seems to be more focused on undoing Pyrrha's bra (he won't make it!). ]
no subject
A few bolts pop loose off the bed, dropping to the floor. This is followed by the mattress caving in, buckling under their weight and bending to touch the floor as the boards supporting the box spring underneath give way.
Finally, each side of the bed bursts off, the headboard slamming against the wall with enough force to damage it.
However, with the mattress still underneath them, just... on the floor now, Pyrrha can't quite find this enough of a reason to stop, still trying to fumble her way out of her bra.
Someone else may disagree, though. That was quite a loud disruption! ]
no subject
Coming-- I, uh, someone's coming!
[ Jaune can definitely hear footsteps and immediately sits up, trying to fumble the bra back together, not letting it come off. HELP ]
--Pyrrha!!
no subject
[ and walking up the stairs and just outside the door is the world's cutest cockblock, penny! she definitely heard the slamming of a wall being damaged and something falling when she was on the lower floor, and is now investigating like a good housemate should.
it did sound like it came from pyrrha's room, so that's where she heads first! she's been working on social cues so she doesn't barge in right away, but she's about three seconds away from doing so. ]
no subject
Hurriedly, she pulls her shirt back on (backwards) and then,
... hands him her winter coat?
LOOK SHE'S NOT THINKING VERY CLEARLY RIGHT NOW
Regardless, seeing feet peek out from under her door, she'll call out, ]
Come in!
[ no that was the absolute wrong thing to do ]
no subject
Don't ask.
By the time Penny enters, Jaune is standing over the broken bed. It's quite dirty with mud and so is he, not to mention the broken decorations around the room. ]
P-Pennyyyyy... heyyyyy...
I-I was just, I-- Pyrrha just, I'm, we're, I'm, uh, helping Pyrrha with, uh... that... that thing... you know that thing...
[ PARTNER HELP??? ]
no subject
[ honestly, penny thought she was the only one in the house. everyone else seemed to be out and about, but it's good that she knows they're here now! now they can spend some good quality friend time together :)
still, she's at least observant enough to have a look around. the two of them look pretty dirty... and flushed... and the bed frame is broken! wowzers! ]
It sure is a mess in here... Did you guys make that sound?
no subject
[ Pyrrha glances behind her, none too subtly, at the bed... and then notices the way her coat is helpfully shielding Jaune's probable erection. (Oh, boyfriend.)
She turns back at Penny, smiling broadly. It's a bit over-compensating. ]
A few bolts popped loose off my bed. Jaune was just... he came by to help me fix it!
[ That explains precisely one (1) of about twelve different things Penny could remark on. ]
no subject
A-Ah, yup, that-- hahah... that sure is a... a broken bed... damn, whoever installed it seems to have used the N-49 bolts instead of the... GXPK27. [ ?????? ] That-- yeah, that's your problem.
[ Jaune comes to the conclusion that it wasn't believable enough, so he adds more flavour to the story: ]
Also, you were jumping on it too much. Didn't we talk about this before? Yeah, we did, I-- yep. So, y'know. Stop that.
[ ....yeah. ]
no subject
[ said completely genuinely! why else would the bed have broken? it isn't like sleeping is a very strenuous activity, and jumping on one sounds like it would be very fun. ]
Did you need some help? You both look like you're very out of breath.
no subject
[ They are quite out of breath, yes. Pyrrha can't imagine they'll pick up where they left off before the interruption, but the emotional hangover, as it were, is overwhelming Pyrrha a bit.
... Out of nowhere, she turns her head to hide her smothered laughter. ]
no subject
A-Ahahactually I think I might take a cold shower, hahah! How about this heat, you guys? Pffwh...!
no subject
leaving them be sounds like a good idea. ]
...I will leave you guys to that! But if you need any help, I'm a mind message away.
[ hopefully by then they'll be acting normally. for now, she'll be shutting their door closed again with no finesse whatsoever. ]