[ Bigby's still not quite used to people knocking on his door as often as they have been as of late — the only time he received any type of attention back home was when a Fable would be courageous enough to pursue him for assistance without going straight to the town hall to have Snow or Crane demand the sheriff to do his job. as much as he would like to pretend he isn't there (and you already know he's done that a time or three), he has gotten better. this is fortunate for Rosalind, because damn, would it suck to be stuck out (in the cold? is it cold? idk) with nowhere to go.
he's opening the door only to see Rosalind standing before him. she looks just about as presentable as he had been when she found him in an alleyway of all places, clothes tattered and bloodied. there's no knives lodged into her legs from what he can see, at least. don't mind Bigby as he stands there for several seconds, looking her up and down with as flat of an expression as one might expect. ]
There's a story to this, I'm assuming. One that you aren't going to want to tell me right now.
[ she looks just about as pissed off and tired as he does during a normal day. that speaks volumes. at least it should say something when he opens his door wider and steps to the side, allowing her to step inside if she chooses. she's opened hers for him enough, after all. ]
[She kicks off her shoes, at least, not wanting to trail in dirt (he likely doesn't care, but she has her pride). It's only once the door closes behind her that she turns, glancing up at him with just a hint of tentativeness.
She's going to utilize his shower regardless; that's non-negotiable. Indeed, she's already tugging at the buttons on her blouse, because it's all she can do not to simply turn on her heel and race for his bathroom without another word.
But even Rosalind isn't presumptuous enough to demand she get a place to stay for the night without asking first. And though they've slept together, though they're apparently friends (is that what they are? She isn't certain, but he seems to care for her), she isn't certain he'll say yes. Why should he? She can hardly pay him or offer him something in compensation.]
I . . . require a place to stay for the evening. I was hoping it might be here.
[ there's an important, yet awkward fact to point out about what Bigby was doing prior to Rosalind arriving at his doorstep. it may be clued in on him being shirtless, with a towel draped over his shoulder at that. he has shown more than enough flesh to her to be uncomfortable about her seeing him half-naked, but that doesn't stop him from looking at her speculatively. the fact that she needs to bathe is little of a surprise, but if she thinks he's enough of a gentleman to decline him of his own... ]
You know you don't have any clothes here, right.
[ he's already assuming that Rosalind will ask for a button-up to sleep in, and he has to shrug away the imagery of her wearing his over-sized clothing. that may or may not provide incentive towards allowing her to stay. Bigby lets out a defeated sigh of sorts as he pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping forward and assuming she would follow him towards the bathroom connected to his bedroom. ]
I suppose I owe you, so I'm not going to be a dick and kick you out.
[ even if those stitches popped out of his leg before he went to sleep that night. that doesn't matter, though. not important. ]
There's that gentlemanly kindness that drew me to you.
[He's clearly about to shower, and that's all well and good. There's not a chance in hell she's going to wait even ten more minutes before she bathes, but if he wants to join her, that's more than fine. She's already got her top open and shrugged off by the time they reach the bathroom; her skirt soon follows, and for once it's not a matter of lust. She's just really, really desperate to be rid of the outdoors, yeah?
Honestly, she's not even that filthy. Two days isn't that bad. But she's tired and angry and feels dirty, so this is a shower for emotional catharsis as much as it is sheer physical need. She flits ahead of him, turning on the taps. Hopefully he doesn't mind it hot.]
And I assumed I'd borrow yours. You're big enough I can just wander in a shirt; it's not as if you haven't seen every inch of me by now. A pair of bare legs oughtn't scandalize you.
[There's an irony to her saying that as she unclasps her bra and drops her panties. Rosalind gives him a wry little smile as she heads forward, ready to claim the shower first and foremost for her own.]
You can lose the sarcasm as quick as you are leaving the trail of clothes.
[ sarcasm is shtick, okay. not yours. just because you're having a bad day (or series of days) doesn't mean that he's going to let you have it. that being said, she sure is nonchalant about leaving said trail of clothes, and he is having a hard time trying to focus his eyes towards areas of her body that would be more appropriate to look at.
it's fine. it isn't a matter of lust, so it is fine. she just wants to take a bath. that's all. ]
And when you leave? [ that's her panties dropping. dang. Bigby grabs onto both ends of the towel and tightens his grip as he steps forward, making it clear that he wasn't about to give her privacy if she was looking for it. said towel is pulled off of him and placed somewhere that will remain dry, working to unbutton his pants and tug them down his hips. if she can be casual about it, so can he. ] —Why the hell are you even out this far? Yes, there's a story you don't want to talk about, but you can at least tell me how you got yourself lost in Wyver again.
[First of all, before she answers any questions, she's going to enjoy her hard-earned shower. It's hot and steamy and no, the water pressure isn't spectacular, but on the other hand, it's perfect, because it's the first shower she's had in two days. Rosalind sighs happily, shuddering appreciatively as hot water runs in rivulets down her body. She's not really covered in dirt, but still she imagines she can feel the dust and soil of the jungle running off her.
So that's nice.
Her basking takes a solid minute, during which she has to duck to get her hair wet as well. It's only once she's satisfied and fully soaked that she pulls back and takes a breath, ready to answer him.]
No good deed goes unpunished is the short version. We were asked to help the newly awoken orient themselves. I, already thinking of going to the station to visit the pods, decided to be charitable for once in my life.
[She glances over at him, her eyes darting up and down pointedly before meeting his gaze.]
Instead, what I got was a mission out of hell. We were to pilot a bloody spaceship, and when they inevitably crashed, we were stuck two days out of Wyver. So we walked, and camped, and now when I tell people I hate nature I can decidedly say I've tried it.
[A beat, and then she adds:]
Coming?
[. . .]
Into the shower, I mean.
[There's something in her smile that suggests she meant that. Turns out it's easy not to fluster when you've already fucked a man, how about that.]
[ there's a very obvious, selfish reason as to why he hasn't joined her yet. that's because he is happy to watch as the dirt and grime washes off of her, slicking curves and pale flesh in an appealing fashion. Bigby's excuse if she pries is that he is being a gentleman, letting her get settled underneath the water before he jumps in and hogs it from her. yeah. that sounds legitimate enough. ]
Oh. Well. Wish I could say you didn't practically sign up for shitty situations, but...
[ his underwear is off by then and kicked to the side before stepping closer, not shy about showing himself bare in the slightest either. she talks of piloting spaceships and he can't help but snort at the visual of her at the helm. whoever her poor partner was would be dealing with the true mission from hell, not her. ]
And you have experience flying them? Huh. Something new to learn about you, I guess. [ he's been teasing, but Bigby can only imagine someone like Rosalind would have a tough time acclimating with the outdoors. it almost makes Bigby envious. the days of roaming from one biome to another, living off of things further down the food chain... dreamy sigh. ] Yeah, I'm coming, alright.
[ he'll actually give her a smile in return, possibly as a reward for making it out of her nightmare in one piece. of course he meant that as well. true to his word, Bigby steps in, sliding the (glass door? what kind of bathrooms does Wyver have, idk) shower closed so they would retain the warmth of the building steam. now their chests are almost touching. hm. ]
Since you've so kindly occupied my bath, I hope you're ready to put your hands to use.
[Oh. It's rather startling (and nice) to see him smile, especially when it isn't a smirk at her expense. It softens his features, making him look far more approachable, and settles her enough that she isn't so inclined to teasingly push him away when he gets in her space.]
I suppose that depends.
[She takes half a step closer, pressing herself firmly against him. The shower beats down against her back, hot water keeping her slick and relaxed, and she smiles.]
What precisely did you have in mind, hm? I can think of a lot of uses for my hands.
[--which are wandering up him, actually, sliding up his torso and draping carefully around his neck. It's been a long time since she's shared a bath (or shower) with someone; she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed it. Before he can answer, she rises to her toes, catching him in a swift kiss. Against his mouth, then:]
[ it's fairly clear that she is eager to move past the events of the past few days, both mentally and physically. Bigby has to give credit where credit is due; he can only imagine that her limbs are sore and whatever energy she has remaining is spent keeping her legs standing and her weight secure. perhaps that is why he's inclined to remain close, within arms reach to keep her grounded if she ever loses her balance.
or perhaps he just wanted to be close to dat booty. who knows. ]
Was thinking of making use of the extra set of giners. Get those hard to reach places for me. I'll consider the same if you keep being nice.
[ and then she's kissing him, which is enough to surprise him even when it shouldn't. he doesn't immediately kiss back, looking down at her while one hand rests itself between her shoulder blades before sliding lower and settling at the dip in her back. ]
Which... makes me wonder why you're being nice. You're not playing it safe to make sure I don't kick you out, are you.
[Both her eyebrows raise, and she frowns up at him.]
Good god, Bigby, I'm not whoring myself out to ensure I've a bed for the night.
[Which could be the start of an argument, except she's a bit too worn out for that. So she stays pressed close, arching her back, trying to get him to lower his hand a little. She likes it when he gropes her, what can she say. Him grabbing her ass in the middle of a hot shower sounds ideal, frankly, and heaven knows she deserves a bit of spoiling after the last two days.]
No, I'm staying regardless.
[She's almost positive he wouldn't kick her out, frankly, not now that he's invited her in. Rosalind sighs as she leans forward, tipping her head so her forehead rests against his shoulder. A little muffled, then:]
Is it so shocking to you I can be nice when I'm inclined? Or is it that you imagine I have a hard time being nice to you? Except it was at your doorstep I showed up, so what does that tell you?
What— no one called you a damn whore, Rosalind, fuck—
[ Bigby's lips sputter, if only because he wasn't looking to duke it out with her verbally for once in his goddamned time knowing her. he may regret his choice of words slightly, but when she doesn't make an effort to pull away and make things Difficult, he doesn't linger on it much.
she makes it obvious where she wants his hand and he won't shy away from scratching his nails in a more southern direction, only stopping when that large palm of his is secured against her backside. it'd be oh-so-easy to take a deep squeeze, to claim it as his own like he typically does. he doesn't. Bigby likes what she is doing now, playing nice and wiggling her body to get more of what she wants herself. ]
There's nice as in you stitching up a knife wound, and then there's nice where you're literally kissing and touching me all over. So, yes. Consider it shocking.
[ his free hand decides to at least act somewhat more kind than the other, running its fingers through her hair in an attempt to work through inevitable knots as gently as he can. ]
Not exactly used to anyone being nice, so don't take it personally.
[Ah, and this really is a treat. She sighs, tipping her head back, all but melting against him as he runs his fingers through her hair. She hasn't had anyone do that in . . . mm, however long it's been since she's been here. Four months-- yes, four months, that's it. That's how long she's been gone from Robert.]
Mm, well. Savor it while it lasts.
[It won't forever, heaven knows. They're both too stubborn (and arrogant, and combative, and dominant in personality) to stay sweet for long. But just here and now, standing in the shower with him, Rosalind feels inclined towards sweetness. Maybe it's exhaustion at work. Maybe she really is just that fond of him. Who can say?
She tips her head, nosing against him, unaware of just how apt any animalistic action really is.]
Keep-- keep doing that . . . mm, I'd tell you to keep your other hand where it is, but I don't think there's much risk of you moving that.
[ it's probably hypocritical of him to call her out for being nice. after all, the Big Bad Wolf is acting kind enough to run his fingers through her hair and massage her scalp. the last time he did that involved cramming his cock down her throat. does he let that stop him from thinking it strange to see this tired, grumpy woman show affection to him in return? absolutely not. ]
Says the lady getting the VIP treatment right now. I told you to put your hands to use.
[ notice how he doesn't stop, though. he continues his best attempts at washing her hair with nothing but water, only pausing to scrunch his nose up at the feeling of hers brushing along the tip of it. while it has been four months since she has last been tended to, Bigby can't even recall the last time he's shared a bath or shower with someone. go figure. ]
There's plenty of risk. I can pull away any second. Going to snatch it back up and place it back on your ass if I do?
[ he decides to do just that. there's the softest of paps at the side of her rear before retracting from it altogether, letting it fall limp to his side. just because he is being nice doesn't mean he isn't going to tease. ]
[She'll wash his hair, anyway. A blowjob might have to wait until they're in bed together, but who can say? His hand drops, though, and that's not fair; she squirms against him, humming softly in displeasure.]
That was as much treat for you as it was me, Bigby.
[She tries to put some severity in her tone, but he'll feel the curve of her smile against his neck. How odd, how easily that comes to her. How easy all this is, standing in the shower with him and doing nothing but teasing. Mm. That'll require some thought, but not right now. Right now, Rosalind wants nothing more than to stop thinking and simply enjoy herself.
Which means she's quick to reach blindly for his wrist, grabbing it and pushing his hand to settle right where it was. Stay, and she arches her back again, pushing her ass into his hand.]
You're always so eager to grab . . . don't try and pretend you don't want to right now.
[ and he's the one spoiling her? this is not how things are supposed to work for him, dammit. there's probably going to be a time where he regrets letting certain people get close to him, if only because he will forever feel like they don't know what they're signing up for when they do. no one in Fabletown would jump in a shower with him, let alone allowing his fingers to get so much as close to any particular limb.
yet here Rosalind is, so eager to be touched by his large, firm palm that she reaches back to guide it right onto the curve of her ass once more. fortunately, his mind doesn't wander to more negative territory right now. he lets her move his fingers as he sees fit, and when she tries to call him out for his preference, his shoulders rise to form a light shrug of defeat. ]
You must think you're getting to know me so well, huh.
[ she is, at least in a physical sense. his palm squeezes deeper now, giving her something she would be much, much more familiar with. the other hand is working at the back of her neck now as well, rubbing along her ears and squeezing at certain pressure points to alleviate what he can only imagine is sore as all fuck. ]
There's some soap behind you. In case you want to actually get cleaned and not just felt up.
[ and soap benefits them both, if the cock that's slowly growing erect and brushing along her v-bone has to say about anything. how easy it would be to just shift it between her thighs, but. he is being a good boy right now. miraculously. ]
[She doesn't move for a few moments, though she probably ought to. But his fingers feel sinfully good, rubbing against her neck, pinching here and there, giving her relief in a way she hadn't even thought to seek. It'd take another minute before she'd simply melt against him, pliant and warm in the best of ways. That might be a bit embarrassing, because then she'd be only half a step away from mumbling affection, and that . . . probably wouldn't go over well with him.
So he's right . . . she probably ought to wash up a bit. The outer layer of dirt has long since washed away, but a bit of scrubbing (even with his soap, and she can't imagine it's anything like the rich stuff she buys) would do her good. With a little sigh she squirms just enough to get him to pull his hands back, turning in his arms so she can reach the soap.
If that means his cock is pressing against her ass, well. That seems to be a personal problem for him. She's busy getting cleaned up, thanks, and what a lovely sight that must be for him: her soaping herself up, running a sudsy washcloth over wet skin, over her breasts and between her thighs, humming softly as she does.
She's through, because this isn't just meant to be a tease.]
I know what you like in bed, anyway. Though I wouldn't mind hearing more about where it is you come from. All you've really told me is about your powers-- and that isn't meant to be blaming, before you start. But I'm curious.
[She half-glances behind her, not so much trying to catch his eye as simply address him.]
[ giving genuine affection is just about the quickest way for him to stumble backwards, slip on water and bust his ass. so yes, it is good that she is able to restrain herself to an extent. Bigby can deal with the murmurs, the sighs and the shifting of her hips, the latter being that he benefits from the fact that she is rubbing up along his cock in the process. he almost regrets telling her of the soap, because she's pulling back and he is left standing there, looking down at his erection with furrowed brows.
it doesn't help that she's turned around and pressed her backside into him in just the right angle so that his length lines up between the crease of her cheeks. he's the one murmuring to himself now, eyes dancing between the connection of their lower bodies and the way her hands begin to cover herself with the soft suds of soap. she may not have meant for it to be teasing, but Bigby takes it as exactly that. both hands slide up to her hips, now, pulling her back into him so that she can feel the girth of him more directly.
maybe it would have been better to listen to her before he did that, because now he has to answer a legitimate question as he grinds himself into Rosalind. hm. ]
Which one? I've had quite a few.
[ he assumes she is talking of worlds, but even then — he has had quite a few. then there's the question of his home as Bigby, or his home as the Big Bad Wolf. the heat in the water is going to be lost before he can get through all of that. ]
[She smiles as he tugs her back, rolling her hips just to give him an extra thrill. She's really not up to anything too vigorous, but on the other hand, she's perfectly pleased with the way he's grinding up on her. He can keep doing that for a fair bit, Rosalind decides, magnanimous even in her mind.]
Whichever you consider to be your most recent one, I suppose. Beyond here, that is.
[But that's a curious answer. Everything about him is curious, really. It's a good thing they're both immortal, because it's going to take ages before she stops pestering him with questions.]
[ ah, well. the good news is that Rosalind won't have to subject herself to anything too vigorous, because Bigby will be the one putting forth the effort. he appreciates the way she makes a point of grinding him, but it's his fingers sinking tighter into her skin to ensure she doesn't go anywhere. one hand moves closer to her pelvic bone just south of her navel, rubbing any leftover suds into her skin as she continues to coerce more information out of him.
he should probably convince her not to worry about bullshit related to him right now, to instead worry about feeling better and enjoying the heat of the water. or the cock sliding up against and into her ass. she's the type to not let something go once he piques her curiosity, however, so he clicks his tongue against his defeat as a form of accepting defeat. ]
Describing anything about my home is going to sound "interesting". I guess maybe because you're what we would call a Mundy in Fabletown.
[ he purposely leaves it at that. she's going to want clarification on what a Mundy is. he knows this. but he's too busy idly thrusting his lower half into hers, sorry. ]
[The good news is that she is enjoying the heat of the water. All the questions in the world can't distract from the fact that this is the first shower she's had in two days. Rosalind ducks her head forward, getting her hair wet once more, before squirming against him in a pointed tease. The glide of his hand against her stomach is just bonus; Rosalind sighs softly, delighted by the contrast of rough fingers against soft skin.]
Mundy . . .
[But it doesn't take a genius to figure out what that might mean.]
Mundane? Those without powers-- so you come from a world where you're not in the majority.
[She assumes. It's not such a leap in logic, though, given his initial reluctance to tell her about himself. Mm . . . she shivers as he rocks forward against her again, her back arching despite herself. Just like that, and perhaps she won't be so upset if he fucks her after all.
. . . though, she thinks, it would a bit more fun if they were in a bed. It'd be a lot more fun if she-- yes, she decides, and doesn't move just yet, too eager to hear this explanation to bother with teasing him just yet. He's far from coming; she has a fair bit of time.]
Fabletown . . . that's a bit on the nose. Vampires and werewolves and witches populate it, I assume . . . are you all stars of specific tales, or is it more a wry commentary on what the rest of the world stereotypes of you all?
[ he doesn't really come from Fabletown. not literally. it's not the realm he was born in, nor was it for anyone else that resided there along with him. but she did ask for him to elaborate on the one most recent, so he doesn't bother to clarify.
there won't be any impromptu fucking in the shower, though. at least not right now. Bigby is satisfied with the skin-on-skin contact, idly thrusting himself forward into the woman to remind her that she has an erect cock lined up with her ass at all times. he opts for a change, and without asking, the fingers on her stomach move down to spread her legs enough. before she thinks he's aiming for any particular hole to plunge into, she'll find him sliding between her thighs instead.
at least she will have some relief in the form of him rubbing along the bottom of her cunt now. ]
I didn't come up with it. Besides, the people that live there had just as cheesy names. [ Snow White. Beauty. Beast. Big Bad Wolf. ] We'd be freezing our ass off in cold water if I tried to explain in detail, so yeah, let's go with the "specific tales" thing. Some of them bigger than others.
[Ah, and her breath catches, her hips rocking back against him now and again. If he wants to fuck her thighs, that's more than all right by her, but she won't deny she's getting some enjoyment out of the heat teasing against her.]
I've badgered stories out of all the other immortal men I know. You might as well tell me one and complete the set.
[The worst part about that is that it's entirely true. Ardyn and Nightingale both had told her things from their past; Ardyn had even framed it as a fable. Rosalind squirms, pressing her legs tighter together to give him a thrill.
A beat, and she glances behind her.]
Were any about you? Or were you lumped in with werewolves in general?
[ oh, dammit. now she wants him to talk about people he's known for decades. centuries. Fables that are either stashed away in stasis chambers or gone forever. Fables that would be hoping and praying it was him in the pod right now — that or just outright dead. maybe if he thrusts harder and faster, she'll become distracted by his cock running along the lips of her cunt. that sounds good. he's going to do just that.
another sharp stab of his hips and it's loud enough to make her ass slap back against his lower abs. he lets out a grunt, the first solid indication that this is actually arousing and pleasureful to him. as if the swollen cock hadn't given that away already. ]
I'm sorry, can we talk about the fact that you know multiple immortal men? Are you just snatching them up for some kind of collection or something?
[ again, deflecting. but he is also surprised to hear there are others that come from their respective worlds. maybe not too far-fetched when considering his own origins, but still. Bigby lets out a groan at her last question, but he concedes and gives her something. ]
Plenty of stories about me. Some real, some fake. Most of them real. And no, not lumped in with werewolves.
[ because he isn't a werewolf, but he doesn't want to linger on that. ]
[Sort of. She sort of collects them, it's a fifty/fifty thing, let's not linger on it. She's drawn to the supernatural and bizarre, she can hardly help that; it's just that people who are different in some way are so much more interesting than boring, ordinary human beings.
Which might neatly explain why it's him she's grinding back against, rolling her hips down and shivering at the way his cock presses up against her. She's half-tempted to tell him to simply fuck her already; god knows she's gotten wet enough.]
So tell me one. Or do you want to wait until we're in bed?
[She glances behind her, smirking a little.]
That's sweet. Aren't you hospitable? Letting me sleep here and telling me a story, my.
[ Bigby doesn't know if he should be feeling jealous or if his ego should take a blow for not being the only """immortal""" she knows. upon considering the chances becoming more likely with the number of universes and worlds merged into one, he figures he shouldn't get too pouty over something ridiculous. he doesn't even know Ardyn is grouped in that same pool, however. what a pain in the ass that conversation will be when it ever comes... ]
Mm. Don't know about that. Not unless you're looking for nightmares before I tuck you in.
[ he says it with a playful enough spin, but truth be told, it's only added to ensure he doesn't make the situation tense. his stories are far from ones he would want to give to someone in an attempt to flatter or humble himself. Bigby is used to them being told by others, and even when they aren't bloated and dramatized more than they needed to be, they all drove home the same point — if you ever meet the Big Bad Wolf, you were fucked.
hardly the thing he wants Rosalind to think about when his cock is hard and her cunt wet. he tries to deflect for as long as he can, giving another sharp jab before one of his palms slide up her stomach to cup a breast into his hand. he gives a deep squeeze as his thumb finds one of her nipples, sure in the fact that it would be a proper distraction. ]
If you actually wash me off like promised, I might even wake you up with breakfast. Who knows.
[ spoiler: he won't be waking her up with breakfast, but it is a nice thought to have. way better than one of him eating people, right. ]
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he's opening the door only to see Rosalind standing before him. she looks just about as presentable as he had been when she found him in an alleyway of all places, clothes tattered and bloodied. there's no knives lodged into her legs from what he can see, at least. don't mind Bigby as he stands there for several seconds, looking her up and down with as flat of an expression as one might expect. ]
There's a story to this, I'm assuming. One that you aren't going to want to tell me right now.
[ she looks just about as pissed off and tired as he does during a normal day. that speaks volumes. at least it should say something when he opens his door wider and steps to the side, allowing her to step inside if she chooses. she's opened hers for him enough, after all. ]
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[She kicks off her shoes, at least, not wanting to trail in dirt (he likely doesn't care, but she has her pride). It's only once the door closes behind her that she turns, glancing up at him with just a hint of tentativeness.
She's going to utilize his shower regardless; that's non-negotiable. Indeed, she's already tugging at the buttons on her blouse, because it's all she can do not to simply turn on her heel and race for his bathroom without another word.
But even Rosalind isn't presumptuous enough to demand she get a place to stay for the night without asking first. And though they've slept together, though they're apparently friends (is that what they are? She isn't certain, but he seems to care for her), she isn't certain he'll say yes. Why should he? She can hardly pay him or offer him something in compensation.]
I . . . require a place to stay for the evening. I was hoping it might be here.
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You know you don't have any clothes here, right.
[ he's already assuming that Rosalind will ask for a button-up to sleep in, and he has to shrug away the imagery of her wearing his over-sized clothing. that may or may not provide incentive towards allowing her to stay. Bigby lets out a defeated sigh of sorts as he pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping forward and assuming she would follow him towards the bathroom connected to his bedroom. ]
I suppose I owe you, so I'm not going to be a dick and kick you out.
[ even if those stitches popped out of his leg before he went to sleep that night. that doesn't matter, though. not important. ]
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[He's clearly about to shower, and that's all well and good. There's not a chance in hell she's going to wait even ten more minutes before she bathes, but if he wants to join her, that's more than fine. She's already got her top open and shrugged off by the time they reach the bathroom; her skirt soon follows, and for once it's not a matter of lust. She's just really, really desperate to be rid of the outdoors, yeah?
Honestly, she's not even that filthy. Two days isn't that bad. But she's tired and angry and feels dirty, so this is a shower for emotional catharsis as much as it is sheer physical need. She flits ahead of him, turning on the taps. Hopefully he doesn't mind it hot.]
And I assumed I'd borrow yours. You're big enough I can just wander in a shirt; it's not as if you haven't seen every inch of me by now. A pair of bare legs oughtn't scandalize you.
[There's an irony to her saying that as she unclasps her bra and drops her panties. Rosalind gives him a wry little smile as she heads forward, ready to claim the shower first and foremost for her own.]
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[ sarcasm is shtick, okay. not yours. just because you're having a bad day (or series of days) doesn't mean that he's going to let you have it. that being said, she sure is nonchalant about leaving said trail of clothes, and he is having a hard time trying to focus his eyes towards areas of her body that would be more appropriate to look at.
it's fine. it isn't a matter of lust, so it is fine. she just wants to take a bath. that's all. ]
And when you leave? [ that's her panties dropping. dang. Bigby grabs onto both ends of the towel and tightens his grip as he steps forward, making it clear that he wasn't about to give her privacy if she was looking for it. said towel is pulled off of him and placed somewhere that will remain dry, working to unbutton his pants and tug them down his hips. if she can be casual about it, so can he. ] —Why the hell are you even out this far? Yes, there's a story you don't want to talk about, but you can at least tell me how you got yourself lost in Wyver again.
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So that's nice.
Her basking takes a solid minute, during which she has to duck to get her hair wet as well. It's only once she's satisfied and fully soaked that she pulls back and takes a breath, ready to answer him.]
No good deed goes unpunished is the short version. We were asked to help the newly awoken orient themselves. I, already thinking of going to the station to visit the pods, decided to be charitable for once in my life.
[She glances over at him, her eyes darting up and down pointedly before meeting his gaze.]
Instead, what I got was a mission out of hell. We were to pilot a bloody spaceship, and when they inevitably crashed, we were stuck two days out of Wyver. So we walked, and camped, and now when I tell people I hate nature I can decidedly say I've tried it.
[A beat, and then she adds:]
Coming?
[. . .]
Into the shower, I mean.
[There's something in her smile that suggests she meant that. Turns out it's easy not to fluster when you've already fucked a man, how about that.]
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Oh. Well. Wish I could say you didn't practically sign up for shitty situations, but...
[ his underwear is off by then and kicked to the side before stepping closer, not shy about showing himself bare in the slightest either. she talks of piloting spaceships and he can't help but snort at the visual of her at the helm. whoever her poor partner was would be dealing with the true mission from hell, not her. ]
And you have experience flying them? Huh. Something new to learn about you, I guess. [ he's been teasing, but Bigby can only imagine someone like Rosalind would have a tough time acclimating with the outdoors. it almost makes Bigby envious. the days of roaming from one biome to another, living off of things further down the food chain... dreamy sigh. ] Yeah, I'm coming, alright.
[ he'll actually give her a smile in return, possibly as a reward for making it out of her nightmare in one piece. of course he meant that as well. true to his word, Bigby steps in, sliding the (glass door? what kind of bathrooms does Wyver have, idk) shower closed so they would retain the warmth of the building steam. now their chests are almost touching. hm. ]
Since you've so kindly occupied my bath, I hope you're ready to put your hands to use.
[ he meant that as well. ]
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I suppose that depends.
[She takes half a step closer, pressing herself firmly against him. The shower beats down against her back, hot water keeping her slick and relaxed, and she smiles.]
What precisely did you have in mind, hm? I can think of a lot of uses for my hands.
[--which are wandering up him, actually, sliding up his torso and draping carefully around his neck. It's been a long time since she's shared a bath (or shower) with someone; she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed it. Before he can answer, she rises to her toes, catching him in a swift kiss. Against his mouth, then:]
Or should I just guess?
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or perhaps he just wanted to be close to dat booty. who knows. ]
Was thinking of making use of the extra set of giners. Get those hard to reach places for me. I'll consider the same if you keep being nice.
[ and then she's kissing him, which is enough to surprise him even when it shouldn't. he doesn't immediately kiss back, looking down at her while one hand rests itself between her shoulder blades before sliding lower and settling at the dip in her back. ]
Which... makes me wonder why you're being nice. You're not playing it safe to make sure I don't kick you out, are you.
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Good god, Bigby, I'm not whoring myself out to ensure I've a bed for the night.
[Which could be the start of an argument, except she's a bit too worn out for that. So she stays pressed close, arching her back, trying to get him to lower his hand a little. She likes it when he gropes her, what can she say. Him grabbing her ass in the middle of a hot shower sounds ideal, frankly, and heaven knows she deserves a bit of spoiling after the last two days.]
No, I'm staying regardless.
[She's almost positive he wouldn't kick her out, frankly, not now that he's invited her in. Rosalind sighs as she leans forward, tipping her head so her forehead rests against his shoulder. A little muffled, then:]
Is it so shocking to you I can be nice when I'm inclined? Or is it that you imagine I have a hard time being nice to you? Except it was at your doorstep I showed up, so what does that tell you?
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[ Bigby's lips sputter, if only because he wasn't looking to duke it out with her verbally for once in his goddamned time knowing her. he may regret his choice of words slightly, but when she doesn't make an effort to pull away and make things Difficult, he doesn't linger on it much.
she makes it obvious where she wants his hand and he won't shy away from scratching his nails in a more southern direction, only stopping when that large palm of his is secured against her backside. it'd be oh-so-easy to take a deep squeeze, to claim it as his own like he typically does. he doesn't. Bigby likes what she is doing now, playing nice and wiggling her body to get more of what she wants herself. ]
There's nice as in you stitching up a knife wound, and then there's nice where you're literally kissing and touching me all over. So, yes. Consider it shocking.
[ his free hand decides to at least act somewhat more kind than the other, running its fingers through her hair in an attempt to work through inevitable knots as gently as he can. ]
Not exactly used to anyone being nice, so don't take it personally.
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Mm, well. Savor it while it lasts.
[It won't forever, heaven knows. They're both too stubborn (and arrogant, and combative, and dominant in personality) to stay sweet for long. But just here and now, standing in the shower with him, Rosalind feels inclined towards sweetness. Maybe it's exhaustion at work. Maybe she really is just that fond of him. Who can say?
She tips her head, nosing against him, unaware of just how apt any animalistic action really is.]
Keep-- keep doing that . . . mm, I'd tell you to keep your other hand where it is, but I don't think there's much risk of you moving that.
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Says the lady getting the VIP treatment right now. I told you to put your hands to use.
[ notice how he doesn't stop, though. he continues his best attempts at washing her hair with nothing but water, only pausing to scrunch his nose up at the feeling of hers brushing along the tip of it. while it has been four months since she has last been tended to, Bigby can't even recall the last time he's shared a bath or shower with someone. go figure. ]
There's plenty of risk. I can pull away any second. Going to snatch it back up and place it back on your ass if I do?
[ he decides to do just that. there's the softest of paps at the side of her rear before retracting from it altogether, letting it fall limp to his side. just because he is being nice doesn't mean he isn't going to tease. ]
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[She'll wash his hair, anyway. A blowjob might have to wait until they're in bed together, but who can say? His hand drops, though, and that's not fair; she squirms against him, humming softly in displeasure.]
That was as much treat for you as it was me, Bigby.
[She tries to put some severity in her tone, but he'll feel the curve of her smile against his neck. How odd, how easily that comes to her. How easy all this is, standing in the shower with him and doing nothing but teasing. Mm. That'll require some thought, but not right now. Right now, Rosalind wants nothing more than to stop thinking and simply enjoy herself.
Which means she's quick to reach blindly for his wrist, grabbing it and pushing his hand to settle right where it was. Stay, and she arches her back again, pushing her ass into his hand.]
You're always so eager to grab . . . don't try and pretend you don't want to right now.
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[ and he's the one spoiling her? this is not how things are supposed to work for him, dammit. there's probably going to be a time where he regrets letting certain people get close to him, if only because he will forever feel like they don't know what they're signing up for when they do. no one in Fabletown would jump in a shower with him, let alone allowing his fingers to get so much as close to any particular limb.
yet here Rosalind is, so eager to be touched by his large, firm palm that she reaches back to guide it right onto the curve of her ass once more. fortunately, his mind doesn't wander to more negative territory right now. he lets her move his fingers as he sees fit, and when she tries to call him out for his preference, his shoulders rise to form a light shrug of defeat. ]
You must think you're getting to know me so well, huh.
[ she is, at least in a physical sense. his palm squeezes deeper now, giving her something she would be much, much more familiar with. the other hand is working at the back of her neck now as well, rubbing along her ears and squeezing at certain pressure points to alleviate what he can only imagine is sore as all fuck. ]
There's some soap behind you. In case you want to actually get cleaned and not just felt up.
[ and soap benefits them both, if the cock that's slowly growing erect and brushing along her v-bone has to say about anything. how easy it would be to just shift it between her thighs, but. he is being a good boy right now. miraculously. ]
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So he's right . . . she probably ought to wash up a bit. The outer layer of dirt has long since washed away, but a bit of scrubbing (even with his soap, and she can't imagine it's anything like the rich stuff she buys) would do her good. With a little sigh she squirms just enough to get him to pull his hands back, turning in his arms so she can reach the soap.
If that means his cock is pressing against her ass, well. That seems to be a personal problem for him. She's busy getting cleaned up, thanks, and what a lovely sight that must be for him: her soaping herself up, running a sudsy washcloth over wet skin, over her breasts and between her thighs, humming softly as she does.
She's through, because this isn't just meant to be a tease.]
I know what you like in bed, anyway. Though I wouldn't mind hearing more about where it is you come from. All you've really told me is about your powers-- and that isn't meant to be blaming, before you start. But I'm curious.
[She half-glances behind her, not so much trying to catch his eye as simply address him.]
What was your home like?
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it doesn't help that she's turned around and pressed her backside into him in just the right angle so that his length lines up between the crease of her cheeks. he's the one murmuring to himself now, eyes dancing between the connection of their lower bodies and the way her hands begin to cover herself with the soft suds of soap. she may not have meant for it to be teasing, but Bigby takes it as exactly that. both hands slide up to her hips, now, pulling her back into him so that she can feel the girth of him more directly.
maybe it would have been better to listen to her before he did that, because now he has to answer a legitimate question as he grinds himself into Rosalind. hm. ]
Which one? I've had quite a few.
[ he assumes she is talking of worlds, but even then — he has had quite a few. then there's the question of his home as Bigby, or his home as the Big Bad Wolf. the heat in the water is going to be lost before he can get through all of that. ]
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Whichever you consider to be your most recent one, I suppose. Beyond here, that is.
[But that's a curious answer. Everything about him is curious, really. It's a good thing they're both immortal, because it's going to take ages before she stops pestering him with questions.]
Or whichever one you think is most interesting.
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he should probably convince her not to worry about bullshit related to him right now, to instead worry about feeling better and enjoying the heat of the water. or the cock sliding up against and into her ass. she's the type to not let something go once he piques her curiosity, however, so he clicks his tongue against his defeat as a form of accepting defeat. ]
Describing anything about my home is going to sound "interesting". I guess maybe because you're what we would call a Mundy in Fabletown.
[ he purposely leaves it at that. she's going to want clarification on what a Mundy is. he knows this. but he's too busy idly thrusting his lower half into hers, sorry. ]
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Mundy . . .
[But it doesn't take a genius to figure out what that might mean.]
Mundane? Those without powers-- so you come from a world where you're not in the majority.
[She assumes. It's not such a leap in logic, though, given his initial reluctance to tell her about himself. Mm . . . she shivers as he rocks forward against her again, her back arching despite herself. Just like that, and perhaps she won't be so upset if he fucks her after all.
. . . though, she thinks, it would a bit more fun if they were in a bed. It'd be a lot more fun if she-- yes, she decides, and doesn't move just yet, too eager to hear this explanation to bother with teasing him just yet. He's far from coming; she has a fair bit of time.]
Fabletown . . . that's a bit on the nose. Vampires and werewolves and witches populate it, I assume . . . are you all stars of specific tales, or is it more a wry commentary on what the rest of the world stereotypes of you all?
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[ he doesn't really come from Fabletown. not literally. it's not the realm he was born in, nor was it for anyone else that resided there along with him. but she did ask for him to elaborate on the one most recent, so he doesn't bother to clarify.
there won't be any impromptu fucking in the shower, though. at least not right now. Bigby is satisfied with the skin-on-skin contact, idly thrusting himself forward into the woman to remind her that she has an erect cock lined up with her ass at all times. he opts for a change, and without asking, the fingers on her stomach move down to spread her legs enough. before she thinks he's aiming for any particular hole to plunge into, she'll find him sliding between her thighs instead.
at least she will have some relief in the form of him rubbing along the bottom of her cunt now. ]
I didn't come up with it. Besides, the people that live there had just as cheesy names. [ Snow White. Beauty. Beast. Big Bad Wolf. ] We'd be freezing our ass off in cold water if I tried to explain in detail, so yeah, let's go with the "specific tales" thing. Some of them bigger than others.
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[Ah, and her breath catches, her hips rocking back against him now and again. If he wants to fuck her thighs, that's more than all right by her, but she won't deny she's getting some enjoyment out of the heat teasing against her.]
I've badgered stories out of all the other immortal men I know. You might as well tell me one and complete the set.
[The worst part about that is that it's entirely true. Ardyn and Nightingale both had told her things from their past; Ardyn had even framed it as a fable. Rosalind squirms, pressing her legs tighter together to give him a thrill.
A beat, and she glances behind her.]
Were any about you? Or were you lumped in with werewolves in general?
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another sharp stab of his hips and it's loud enough to make her ass slap back against his lower abs. he lets out a grunt, the first solid indication that this is actually arousing and pleasureful to him. as if the swollen cock hadn't given that away already. ]
I'm sorry, can we talk about the fact that you know multiple immortal men? Are you just snatching them up for some kind of collection or something?
[ again, deflecting. but he is also surprised to hear there are others that come from their respective worlds. maybe not too far-fetched when considering his own origins, but still. Bigby lets out a groan at her last question, but he concedes and gives her something. ]
Plenty of stories about me. Some real, some fake. Most of them real. And no, not lumped in with werewolves.
[ because he isn't a werewolf, but he doesn't want to linger on that. ]
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[Sort of. She sort of collects them, it's a fifty/fifty thing, let's not linger on it. She's drawn to the supernatural and bizarre, she can hardly help that; it's just that people who are different in some way are so much more interesting than boring, ordinary human beings.
Which might neatly explain why it's him she's grinding back against, rolling her hips down and shivering at the way his cock presses up against her. She's half-tempted to tell him to simply fuck her already; god knows she's gotten wet enough.]
So tell me one. Or do you want to wait until we're in bed?
[She glances behind her, smirking a little.]
That's sweet. Aren't you hospitable? Letting me sleep here and telling me a story, my.
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Mm. Don't know about that. Not unless you're looking for nightmares before I tuck you in.
[ he says it with a playful enough spin, but truth be told, it's only added to ensure he doesn't make the situation tense. his stories are far from ones he would want to give to someone in an attempt to flatter or humble himself. Bigby is used to them being told by others, and even when they aren't bloated and dramatized more than they needed to be, they all drove home the same point — if you ever meet the Big Bad Wolf, you were fucked.
hardly the thing he wants Rosalind to think about when his cock is hard and her cunt wet. he tries to deflect for as long as he can, giving another sharp jab before one of his palms slide up her stomach to cup a breast into his hand. he gives a deep squeeze as his thumb finds one of her nipples, sure in the fact that it would be a proper distraction. ]
If you actually wash me off like promised, I might even wake you up with breakfast. Who knows.
[ spoiler: he won't be waking her up with breakfast, but it is a nice thought to have. way better than one of him eating people, right. ]
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