A Wolf's Love Lasts Forever

by Ziane

Summary:

Once upon a time, there was a Big Bad Wolf with a big heart and a hothead. He was in love with a lonely princess who ruled them all with an iron fist in a velvet glove. With no kingdom, riches, or palace the wolf never allowed himself to hope for her love. After all, is there any chance for an old wolf and a broken princess to attain their own happily ever after?

Notes:

I took inspiration from the videogame and the comic books.
The story is set following "The Wolf Among Us" timeline and Episodes, so beware of spoilers if you haven't played yet.
English is not my mother tongue (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Chapter 1

Notes:

After Episode 3: "A Crooked Mile" and the beginning of Episode 4: "In Sheep's Clothing"

The heartbreaking howl of a lone wolf tore through the night, waking up mundys and fables alike. Although only the latter recognized the chilling fear it awoke in them as something oddly familiar. Someone had been murdered, and the Big Bad Wolf was responsible as it had always been since the beginning of times. Fabletown shall never forget.

Only another lonely soul sympathized with the wounded wolf as he bled out in her arms. Tears trickled down her cheeks, though concealed by the untimely rain that muffled her cries for help. “Don’t you dare die in my arms, Bigby,” Snow White muttered in a futile threat.

Plunged in a deep slumber, the beast left her plea unanswered, his yellowish eyes closing, his lungs empty of air. Snow trembled in fear, not for the monster that rested lifelessly in her arms, but the friend within. If only by will alone were she able to heal his wounds, past, present, and future.

 

***

 

“We can’t keep meeting this way, Mr. Wolf,” Dr. Swineheart says.

Upon listening to his words, Snow springs out of her reverie, taking in the dreadful scene before her eyes. Bigby Wolf, Sheriff of Fabletown, is a bloody mess, but at least he’s alive. Her eyes sting, but she’s unable to avert her gaze. Somehow in the scheme of things, this is her fault, her responsibility because ultimately, she’s the one that brought him back.

When their eyes meet, her heart skips a beat for the tenth time tonight. “You’re awake!”

“What the hell happened?” Bigby asks in a low grumble. “Auch, my arm!” The attempt to move his left arm translates into excruciating pain as he eyes broken bones and torn flesh.

“That’d be a question better answered by Miss White, but I can tell you what will happen if you take another silver round near your heart,” the physician points out, glancing back and forth between Snow White and Bigby Wolf.

“We lost Crane to the Crooked Man and you almost got killed in the process,” Snow says. “I…”

“But you ended up in the hands of a skillful physician. Lucky you.” Swineheart resumes his work, unbothered.

“Everything’s a bit… fuzzy, but it’s coming back,” Bigby grunts as he tries to run a hand through his hair and it’s reminded of the situation with his arm.

“Can you do something about his arm, Dr. Swineheart?” Worry tinges her words.

“If it concerns him so much, he can set it himself.” The physician focuses on the tedious task of finding and extracting silver pellets out of his body. “I’m a bit engaged saving his life at the moment.”

“Bigby?” Her eyebrows tie together in concern, but before she takes a step forward from the corner she was standing by, Bigby twists his arm and snaps the loose bone back together. His supernatural nature will take care of the rest, but the pain painted in his countenance breaks her heart. She draws closer, noticing his whiskey-colored eyes are back and the hint of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. Her hand lands daintily on his shoulder but she can’t help the nervous trembling that invades her. The wolf notices.

“Are you okay?” Bigby inspects her clothes drenched in blood and frowns, almost forgetting the metal instrument prying his side for more deadly silver. She’s not injured, not a drop of blood belongs to her, and yet, his scent all over her undoes his insides better than any silver bullet.

“You’re the one with a few extra holes, not me,” Snow jests.

“Hollow-point bullets are a nasty business. Stay away from them,” Dr. Swineheart points out, glancing up at Snow. “He didn’t listen to me before, maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Snow nods, turning his gaze back to Bigby. “But he’ll be okay, right?”

“This time, yes, but if he keeps this up...”

“I’m still here, ya’ know,” Bigby groans. His hand flares open and closed, testing the rapid healing of his reattached forearm. “Snow,” he swallows, throat still imbedded with the taste of blood and raw instincts. “Can you get me the bottle of whiskey?” he finally asks. “It’s in the kitchen.”

Snow graces him with a disapproving gaze that soon dissipates. His blood-covered chest rises and falls with a laborious breath while the doctor busies himself with a nasty open wound. He’s earned that drink. “Sure, Bigby,” she complies.

A quick trip to the kitchen allows her to take in the smallest apartment in the Woodland. One room, one bathroom, and a poor excuse of a kitchen. It’s a mess, but she guesses the sheriff spends a good amount of his time somewhere else. Inside one of the cupboards, she finds what she was looking for and returns swiftly to the main room.

“Glasses?”

“Just gimme the damn bottle,” Bigby grunts, reaching for it as soon as Snow is close enough despite the doctor’s complaints.

“Stop moving, Mr. Wolf.”

Bigby chugs down the poison until it muffles his senses even though it lasts just a few seconds. “Thanks,” he sighs. “It helps me calm down after I turn into…”

“I didn’t say anything,” Snow interrupts with a gentle smile.

“Ah, finally.” The doctor shows off a tiny shred of metal that shines under the yellow lights of the apartment. “You’re all set now.” He makes quick work wrapping up the still bleeding wounds knowing by morning, he’ll be mostly healed. “Try not to get into a fight for at least a few hours, will you, Mr. Wolf?” Dr. Swineheart stands with a sigh, picking up his instruments with expertise.

“Miss White.” Snow peels her eyes off Bigby upon listening to her name. “Light duty, understood? He should sleep through the night.”

“I haven’t had a night’s rest in days,” Bigby grumbles, taking another long gulp of whiskey.

“That’s my prescription, then. I’m sorry I can’t do much about the pain.” Bigby waves him off in understanding. His true nature makes him immune to almost any poison or pain killers whether they come from the old days or this world.

Snow nods. “I’ll see you to the door, Dr. Swineheart.”

The few steps that separate that old blue couch from the door seem too far away, and almost unconsciously, her hands intertwine nervously. No matter how many times she repeats it’s his job to put himself on the line she hates herself for being the reason he gets hurt so often. If every fable knew of their sacrifices maybe things would be different. But he pays for all and gets nothing in return.

“His body will eventually give out,” the doctor points out in a low voice. Snow smiles, knowing Bigby will listen nonetheless. “He’s overdone it.”

“I know,” Snow says with a jerky nod.

“Take care of him, please.”

“I’ll stay, at least until he’s out of the woods,” she promises.

“That’d be wise. Goodnight Miss White.” With a tip of his hat, Dr. Swineheart leaves the apartment in complete silence except for the persistent rain outside.

Snow White sighs in relief for the first time tonight, brushing off a few relentless tears that wouldn’t let her be. They’ve risked so much for this investigation and they’ve barely uncovered the tip of the iceberg. What Bigby turned into shouldn’t happen no matter the circumstances. Either he solves this for everyone or dies in the process.

“Snow?” Bigby calls.

He always knows when her mind isn’t at ease; when she’s had a bad night’s sleep, when she’s worried sick or overworked. It used to irk her, the way he always knows things, but she’s learned to appreciate the connection. It makes her feel less lonely in the world. She could run far, far away and Bigby would always find her. The thought is as terrifying as it is comforting, and lately, it gives her peace of mind, which she never expected. Because he would only find her if she wanted him to. That she knows.

“How are you feeling?” Snow takes a seat on an abandoned chair at the opposite wall. It doesn’t get used much but she cannot care about the light dust that covers the surface. For the first time tonight, she’s aware of how tired she is.

“I’ll be fine,” Bigby says, resting his elbows on his knees. A grimace of pain overcomes him, and he fidgets with his hands to cover it up. “Thanks,” he mumbles, his gaze fixed on the raw wooden floor below his feet. “For all that back there.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They lost Crane in exchange for his life, but what Bigby doesn’t know is that Snow would’ve given Fabletown itself to save him if that’s what it would have taken. That is something she struggles to admit to herself even now. The thought of him gone for good hurt too much, left her hopeless and helpless. Those feelings are easy to conceal when everything goes well and the mundanity of their lives rules, but she can barely hold them inside her chest on nights like tonight.

“Do you need something?” Snow asks.

“Stick around, will ya’?” Bigby lifts his gaze, and a pair of big, watery eyes pierce through her.

“Of course.” She smiles. “Doctor’s orders.” But her smile vanishes as a gloomy thought crosses her mind. “Bigby,” she sighs. “You killed one of the Tweedle brothers.”

“Tweedledum.” He remembers, wishing he had done differently. “M’sorry you had to see that.”

Snow stands as if her words mattered more this way. “They gave you no choice!” she says a tad too loudly. Bigby smiles appreciatively although she’s wrong. He always has a choice. “But the others… They’ll think you’re back on the old ways.” Her shoulders slack, defeated by the amount of paperwork and explanations that will follow up a hellish night like this. As if the pain of watching Bigby close to death wasn’t enough.

“Always the Big Bad Wolf no matter what,” Bigby shrugs. “I’m used to it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Snow decides, putting the matter off until tomorrow morning.

Only the tapping of the rain against the building fills the room, and the realization of a long night ahead assaults Bigby. Snow paces uncomfortably, unbuttoning her jacket and finding out the shirt underneath is also soaked in blood. “You can go,” Bigby says, standing a bit unsure on his feet.

“Go where?” Snow shoots him a defying glare.

“Your apartment. I’m fine.” Bigby waves her off and finds a pack of Huff n’ Puffs on the table. He rummages in his pocket for the lighter while Snow crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. A cloud of smoke lingers between them before she dissipates it with her hand.

“I’m not leaving you,” she states. “I’m putting you to bed.”

“Are you going to tuck me in, too?” A wolfish grin spreads on his lips as fast as a blush covers Snow’s cheeks.

She turns around, eyeing the unmade bed on a corner of the room. That’s a problem she’ll solve later. “But I need to change out of these clothes,” she mumbles. “I’m a mess.”

A husky chuckle makes her turn around, eyes narrowing. “I ain’t complaining,” Bigby says with an insouciant shrug.

“Bigby!” Snow chides. “Offer me something I can wear!” she huffs, watching the smoky grin smiling at her. “Nevermind, I’ll swing by my apartment and be back in a jiff,” Snow ponders, taking her knuckles to her lips as she considers her options. Exactly how to move through the Woodland building in a bloody outfit without raising any questions or many eyebrows.

“Fine,” Bigby concedes all too soon. He traps the cigarette between his lips as he mumbles a curse. On the first drawer of the dresser, he finds an old but clean white t-shirt and offers it to Snow.

“Thank you,” she says with a triumphant smile. “Good enough, I guess.” Snow turns toward the bathroom. “You should take those off too,” she says, closing the door shut behind her. 

“What the…” Bigby glances down at the white bandages already tinged with blood and the dried-up mess on his trousers. He toes off his shoes with a grumble.

The bathroom is small but surprisingly clean. It doesn’t seem that it gets used much. Her fingers reach to touch the razor Bigby never uses. Not that Snow minds; or should mind. Then she finds her reflection in the mirror and catches herself red-handed in a genuine smile. It’s easy to forget the grueling world outside when he’s around and off the hook.

While she’s out of sight, Bigby puts down the smoke and makes quick work of removing the blood-stained garments and replacing them with some grey sweatpants. Unfortunately for him, his last clean t-shirt has a new owner for the night. Part of him wishes he was left alone to lick his wounds and sleep for at least twelve hours, but considering the last few days perhaps it’s best if Snow stays here with him where he can protect her. The image of her severed head still haunts him to this day.

Bigby’s about to light another smoke to aid his rumbling thoughts when Snow comes out of the bathroom. The t-shirt covers her up from neck to knees. She looks almost adorable and innocent, like the perfect reminder of the past. A smile creeps up his lips unannounced, but it doesn’t last much.

Snow takes the smoke from his lips. “Get in bed already.” An impertinent finger points toward the bed. “The doctor says you need to sleep.” Bigby glances back at the bed that, most nights, looks hard and lonely but after tonight it almost looks soft and appealing. Still awfully lonely, though.

“The doctor ain’t here,” Bigby crosses his arms over his chest.

“I say so then,” Snow retorts. A single finger prods his folded arms and Bigby arches an eyebrow at her. Unafraid of the glare, he complies, sitting on the bed and reclining his back on the headboard. Snow smiles complacently.

“That wasn’t that hard, was it?” She leaves the unlit cigarette on the table and hangs the almost ruined pencil skirt on the chair while her shoes rest below. It’ll have to do in the morning.

Before considering her options, Snow sits by his side, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt that reveals the skin of her thighs. Tucking a strand of long, inky hair behind her ear, she exhales a deep sigh. What can they say to each other that isn’t already understood? She should let it be, but her heart aches more than ever.

“You stopped breathing…” Her lips betray her, and no matter how hard she tries to seal them together, her chin trembles. “You scared the Hell out of me.” A big, gentle hand lands on her knee. It’s warm and comforting, his touch always is.

“You care about me?” Bigby whispers hoarsely.

“Bigby.” The way his name leaves in a painful sigh makes the sheriff regret the stupid question. “Of course, I do.” She fidgets with the hem of the shirt until his warm, callous hand takes both of hers into its hold. “I thought I’d lost you,” she confesses.

When Snow lifts her gaze, she finds a wolfish grin staring back at her. “I deserve your mockery,” she mumbles, eyes fixed again on her lap. “You’re not mine to lose.” She graced him with those same words not long ago, and even though they weren’t meant to hurt, she knows they sliced through his heart like a sharp blade. Bigby thought she was dead and she paid his kindness with an unfair retort.

Bigby lifts her chin up with his knuckles and meets her eyes. “You can’t lose me, Snow.”

“After tonight, I…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Unless you want me to.”

Snow smiles shyly, pleased by his words. Shrugging off the hand on her chin and the one down her lap, she stands. “I should let you rest.”

But Bigby wraps a hand around her slender forearm. “And I should let you go,” he says in a raspy whisper. His head bumps back against the headboard while his thumb strokes the softest skin he’s ever felt.

“Bigby…”

It takes him a second to let go of her, but he does. “I know, I know.”

Her hand cups his face, fingers grazing his stubble. At a loss for words, Bigby leans into her touch. “Sleep tight, Mr. Wolf,” she teases with a last caress on his jaw. Her touch lingers on his skin like a burn. “I’ll get some shut-eye on the couch,” she decides, crossing the room and landing as comfortably as possible on that old, weathered seat that she guesses is Bigby’s favorite spot.

She turns off the single lamp that was on, expecting at least a couple of hours of rest before the skies clear up and the sun comes up. But before Snow closes her eyes and as a yawn leaves her mouth, a pair of strong arms pick her up effortlessly. The uncomfortable furniture is replaced by Bigby’s tight hold, both arms sliding under her knees and upper back.

“No way, princess,” he says with a painful grunt.

“Bigby! Your wounds!”

“Colin sleeps there sometimes, so that ain’t happening,” he explains, walking back toward the bed.

“Colin should be at the farm.” Her frown dissipates when Bigby drops her -a tad higher than he should’ve- on a warmed-up bed.

“You sleep here, I’ll take the couch.”

Leaving no room for an argument, Bigby slumps on his usual sleeping spot and takes a deep breath. “Bigby,” Snow calls.

“Stay there, Snow,” he grumbles, his eyes finally closed. The weariness is starting to take over, and the sooner he falls asleep, the faster he’ll heal.

As if the wolf couldn’t hear her, Snow stands quietly, walking barefoot to the couch. Bigby opens an eye. Even in the dark, he can make up her figure standing beside him. Without uttering a word, Snow takes him by the hand and tugs. Bigby sighs but follows dutifully, as if he could fight her. She drags him to the bed once again.

“I’ll just fetch ya’ back here while you’re asleep,” Bigby warns.

“Scoot over,” Snow says, rolling her eyes.

Bigby always thought his bed was big enough until tonight. He scoots to the other side, his eyes widening in the dark when Snow slides under the covers beside him. A thin sheet separates them, and although his breath is caught up in his chest, Snow’s is calm and even.

“It’s big enough for the two of us,” she says mid-yawn.

“That’ll do,” Bigby says, clearing his throat and settling down on the pillow.

In the darkness, he glances up at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes or feign sleep. Not until she’s sound asleep. Bigby is having enough trouble trying to repress the urge to wrap arms and legs around her body and never let her go. He swallows thickly, plotting to escape to the couch as soon as he’s able or he won’t get an hour of sleep.

Snow turns around abruptly, facing him. “Does it hurt?”

“The usual,” Bigby says.

Her delicate fingertips trace the bandages wrapped around his torso and covering what could’ve been a fatal wound. “Can silver bullets kill you?”

“I don’t know,” Bigby answers honestly, letting an arm slack over his eyes so he can focus on the subtle caress of her fingertips mapping prickled skin. “They sure as Hell hurt.”

“That’s one weakness we didn’t foresee,” Snow says pensively.

“Not the only one.”

In the dark, a wolfish grin bares white teeth. Her stomach curls nice and warm. Anyone would be scared to death sharing a bed with the Big Bad Wolf, but Snow smiles back at him before she rests her head back on the pillow. Bigby turns on his side, her hand still gently pressed against his chest.

A lock of hair tickles his nose, and he takes a whiff of that intoxicating scent that haunts him day or night since the day they met. Snow shifts closer, so close he feels her breath puffing against his skin. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbles.

“And you won’t let me sleep either,” Bigby quips. A lightning bolt fills the room with a blinding light for an instant, and the loud thunder that follows makes Snow tremble. “Scared of a storm?” he jests.

“I’m not,” Snow grumbles. “I’m wired by today’s events, that’s all.”

“You’re safe with me.”

“I’m taking care of you, Bigby Wolf, let that be clear to you.”

“Sure thing,” Bigby chuckles. “Come closer.” He lifts his arm invitingly, allowing her to wrap an arm around his torso and rest her head on his shoulder. Snow does, and whatever discomfort Bigby feels vanishes once her scent and closeness invade his senses. He breathes her in, his hand toying with a lock of silky hair. If what happened tonight led them to this, he’d do it all over again.

“What if everyone finds out the Big Bad Wolf is a softy?” Snow teases, her fingers running back and forth through a spot on his back that isn’t wounded or bandaged.

Bigby exhales a throaty chuckle. “Don’t fool yourself,” he answers, his chin resting on the crown of her head, his hand traveling to her upper back to hold her closer. “I’m still a wolf, princess,” he whispers. She nuzzles against his chest, ruining whatever courage he had gathered to tease her and his last hope to sleep soundly tonight.

“You’re not so bad for a wolf,” Snow mumbles, succumbing to sleep in his strong, comfortable arms.

“You’re not so bad yourself, princess.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep,” she says, curled up against him and wondering how long can she avoid sleep to enjoy for once the safety of loving arms that ask nothing in return.

“I promise,” Bigby answers.

“Here, with me.”

Bigby tightens his embrace as they settle in bed. “That okay? You sure?”

Her arm slacks around his side, her legs brushing his thighs even underneath the sheets. Snow lets out a long breath against his warm skin. “Yes.” She muffles her answer against his chest, blessing the darkness, the weariness, the decisions she would never regret in the morning, and finally, the rain that taps gently on the windowsill and leads her to a peaceful slumber along with the beating of his heart.

This wolf won’t run away to his improvised couch-bed because unbroken promises have no place over his shoulder. So Bigby sleeps, holding Snow for dear life fearing it will be the one and only time. The princess really does know when to throw a bone.

Chapter 2

Notes:

During Episode 4: "In Sheep's Clothing"

Morning came faster than expected, with Snow sound asleep in the arms of the wolf and the menacing dawn bringing unwanted light to their haven. The truce lasted less than one full night, and Snow already dreads reality seeping through her dreams and waking her up. She tries to move only to realize Bigby traps her tightly against his firm body, with an arm around her waist, the other tucked underneath her neck. The sheets are tumbled at their feet while her heart tumbles in her chest. His deep, rumbling breath is a lullaby that drags her to a blessed stupor over and over until she can no longer ignore the first rays of sun coming in through the open blinds of the apartment.

They’ve overslept.

“Bigby, are you awake?” Snow mumbles in a drowsy whisper. Duty calls for both and it’s bad enough that they’ve indulged in an improvised sleepover. And nothing else, she reminds herself. If neither of them shows their face soon, Fabletown will assume, or worse, invent, what befell the night before.

But how can Snow peel herself away from soft lips brushing her neck, his tamed breathing coaxing her to draw closer and the pair of arms that promise to stay around her for a lifetime and beyond? A shiver runs down her spine, and despite her better judgment, Snow leans back into his embrace as if she was starving. Perhaps, after so many centuries on her own, she is; after so many lies, intrigues, and betrayals. They matter nothing when Bigby holds her against him with no shame or remorse for consequences. 

But the voice of reason won’t let her be. Unfulfilled promises from an old wolf are the last thing she needs. Better safe than sorry, Snow grasps Bigby’s hand and moves it away from her waist, freeing herself from the wolf with ease. Her heart hammers in her chest so loudly she’s sure Bigby can hear it. She glances at him over her shoulder, frowning. If he wasn’t sleeping like a log.

Snow stands and finds her skirt, pulling it up around the oversized t-shirt since wearing anything else would result in a bloody mess. “We have to go,” she says, trying to trick Bigby into waking up. “The investigation…” She halts as she turns around, finding Bigby in the same blissful position as before but without her. “Oh, never mind just stay there pretending you’re asleep,” she chides childishly.

Upon receiving no answer, she draws closer, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “Bigby?” Gentle snoring is his sole answer. “Are you awake?” she whispers, brushing off a strand of hair out of his forehead. He looks so peaceful and calm she’s glad her rustling around hasn’t woken him up, but how? Bigby is always bragging about his amplified senses and yet she can sneak out of his bed without him noticing. She bites back a tiny tad of disappointment since she was ready for their usual back and forth. Bigby made it all too easy.

Snow leans down, hovering over his face, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you really sleeping, Bigby?” she mumbles with a smile, her fingers inadvertently combing out the hair out of his face. There’s a subtle furrow between his eyebrows, and she smoothes it out with her thumb. It’s always there, even when he isn’t working on a case, he’s sulking or brooding, but it usually goes away when he notices her. Who knows what torments him so often.

“I’ll leave you be for a few minutes then,” Snow decides, stroking his stubbly cheek one last time.

Snow puts on her shoes and finds the telephone near the front door. A quick call to the office seems like the best way to start the day and begin damage control.

“Good morning, Bufkin,” Snow says.

As soon as she’s close to the door, his eyes spring open, finding her swiftly. Bigby relaxes when he realizes she’s just making a phone call and not actually leaving yet. His mouth curls in a smile as he stretches his limbs and takes in the scent she’s left all over his bed and himself. A blissful night’s sleep curled around her has done wonders for his wounds, not to mention his mood. Snow hasn’t noticed him yet, with her back turned at him, so he indulges in a quick readjustment down his groin. Man or wolf, there’s nothing he can do about the side effects of her close company.

“I’ll come by the office in an hour… Yes, I’m with Bigby… Oh, who? … Alright, I’ll pass on the message. Thank you, Bufkin.”

Bigby listens to the one-sided conversation as he lights up a smoke and reclines back against the headboard, just as Snow hangs up the phone and finds him there smoking with his usual nonchalance.

“Finally, you’re awake,” Snow says, walking toward him to brief him in. “We need to go.”

“Unless I can convince you to come back to bed.” Bigby exhales a puff of smoke as a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not even going to answer that,” Snow says, glaring at him. “I’ll go by my apartment first, for obvious reasons -she lifts her hands and looks down at her improvised outfit- and you need to stop by your office.”

“I’ll go find a lead on the Crooked Man,” Bigby decides, leaping out of bed as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “Far from my office.”

“No,” Snow says, crossing her arms over her chest. “The lead is already waiting for you there. Hopefully, so.”

His thick eyebrows tie together. “Who?”

“A girl named Nerissa.”

“Really?” Bigby ponders his options, putting out the smoke pensively. Why is she back after what happened last night? She helped him once, maybe she has more dirt on Crane or the Crooked Man. Bigby walks past Snow and disappears into the bathroom. Anything that can throw some light on Lily and Faith’s murders is worth looking into. Somehow they’re connected to the Crooked Man, and the more they have on him, all the better.

“Now you’re in a hurry?” Snow hisses.

“Can’t I take a piss?” Bigby retorts, closing the door of the bathroom and shouting his next words so Snow can hear him. “She might have some information about the case!”

“Fine! I’m leaving for the office then.”

“Goddamnit, wait!” Bigby runs his hands briefly under the cold stream of water and opens the bathroom door. Snow is there, standing, arms crossed over her chest. “Can you help me with something?” he says with a grin. Snow arches an eyebrow at him, unmoving. “With my bandages, princess,” he clarifies, disappearing inside the tiny space.

Snow cranes her head inside and finds Bigby peeling off bandages stained with dried-up blood. She steps inside, grabbing his forearm and turning him around to face her. Taking charge is like second nature to her. Between the sink, his broad frame, and the opposite wall Snow barely fits there, but they manage. After the close distance they shared last night, what else could happen?

“Does it hurt?” Snow takes over the task, removing carefully the long gauze wrapped around his right arm.

“I’m mostly healed,” Bigby replies, helping her out. “I’ve had worse.”

“This one isn’t healed yet,” Snow mumbles, removing the dressing on the side of his torso. The wound is closed, but far from healed. Bigby hands her a new lint and some gauze and she does her best while he takes care of the rest.

Last night, his left arm was a fleshy mess and now there’s barely a pink scar, his skin growing and healing faster than she’s ever seen in any fable considering he put nothing there but a bandage. But his right side, where the silver pellets pierced through, is still sore and bruised. Far from a deadly wound now, but enough to bring last night’s nightmare back into her mind.

“Bigby…” her eyebrows tie together in concern. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” She meets his eyes, and the wolf senses the sincerity of her words.

“I’m pretty hard to kill,” Bigby replies.

He lifts his arms as she secures the new dressing and wraps the lint around his torso. Snow can’t help but notice the strong muscles covered by a blanket of dark hair, and a few scars that his human form couldn’t deal with. She wonders if the tear on his side will leave a similar white mark to remember, and fears the day he goes beyond his capabilities. Her hand presses against his chest, right above his heart, feeling the strong, rapid beating that last night lured her to sleep.

“I’m fine, Snow,” Bigby says, taking her hand into his.

With her other hand, she reaches for his face, cupping his jaw and feeling the permanent stubble there. “Just don’t do that again, okay?” she says with gentle, fearful eyes. They pierce right through Bigby, melting him on the spot. Being cared for is not something he’s used to after centuries of running amock in the woods with the moon as his sole companion. That was so long ago he can barely remember life without her.

“I can’t promise you that,” Bigby says in all honesty. He would never lie to her. That’s something Snow wouldn’t forgive. Her gaze drops as her hand slides down his neck. “Listen,” Bigby says, lifting her chin so their eyes find each other. “You know why I took this job?”

“Because I asked you to.”

“Yes, and because the worst that could happen is that I die protecting those that I care about.” Snow opens her mouth but Bigby interrupts her. “Those I love.” He squeezes her hand, the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Bigby…” He cups her face, his thumb smearing a treacherous tear that was running down her cheek. “You can’t say those things.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Snow chides. “We’re walking on thin ice, here.”

“What I’m sayin’,” Bigby sighs, “is that I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can’t promise me that either,” Snow retorts.

Bigby steps closer, a hand rounding her back to keep her close, to keep her from running away when he’s so close to sending everything to Hell. “Yes, I can,” he breathes out. He feels her body giving in, her arm sliding around his shoulders as if the closeness didn’t bother her in the least. That’s something he loves about her: she has no fear, she’s never been afraid of the Big Bad Wolf ever since the day they met.

“Bigby,” Snow mumbles, pleading into his whiskey-colored eyes for a truce. But his hand grips her waist a little tighter, and his ragged breath puffs against her lips. She’s a second away from forgetting all the things that they shouldn’t do in favor of all those they really shouldn’t do. She stands on her tiptoes to shorten the distance between them, and Bigby welcomes her with a grunt.

“I can’t afford to lose you,” Bigby whispers, his hand trailing down the dip of her spine and giving Snow goosebumps. “Ever.”

Her heart hammers in her chest, heavy lids closing, mouth parting invitingly. Snow threads her fingers in his hair right at the base of his neck. His skin is warm and pleasant, his breath tamed like a beast ready to slay her prey. But Bigby’s waiting for her to make the last move as if giving her a choice would change the outcome.

How can something that is so wrong feel so right? Her breath seizes as she wets her lips, mumbling his name one last time before… Before Bigby snaps his head toward the bathroom door and an angry furrow settles between his eyebrows. She’d even swear his chest rumbled with a low growl.

“Neither of you noticed the pig in the room, huh?”

“Colin,” Bigby warns.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Colin says, dropping his rear on the floor while his eyes glint with mischief.

Snow clears her throat as she peels herself off from Bigby’s body.

“What are you doing here?” Bigby grumbles.

“Good question,” Snow quips, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring down at the pig. She doesn’t know if she’s more upset about the interruption or that the Woodland is no place for non-glamoured fables.

“Don’t look at me like I’m breakfast,” Colin says, ignoring Snow. “You can’t do that anymore, Bigby, besides, since you blew up my house I have a right to crash here whenever I want.” He finishes his speech with a huff.

“Seriously?” Snow pins Bigby in place with a disapproving stare.

“It ain’t my fault,” he defends himself. “Colin, get out of here. Now!”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout,” Colin says, getting up and disappearing into the living room. “I’ll wait on the couch!”

Bigby sighs and Snow softens her countenance. “We’ll continue this conversation,” he says.

“We were done talking anyway,” Snow says, a blush suddenly spreading on her cheeks. Bigby grins. “I mean…” she babbles.

“I’ve just decided I’m gonna eat that damn pig alive,” Bigby teases.

“Bigby,” Snow chides, stifling a chuckle.

“I can hear you!” Colin shouts from the dubious safety of the couch. “Miss Snow, I’d like to fill an official report on an attempt on my life.”

She muffles a peel of laughter with her hand. Taking advantage of the moment, Bigby takes Snow’s hand into his. “Anyway,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Don’t mention it,” Snow blushes, getting goosebumps while Bigby’s thumb caresses the back of her hand. “I… have to go.”

“See ya’ later, then.” Bigby releases her hand and accompanies Snow toward the door, ignoring Colin’s complaints about his empty threats.

“Colin,” Snow calls, her ice-cold deputy face already on.

His head cranes from behind a wall, fearful. “Yes, Miss Snow?” When he planned to drop by Bigby’s apartment he never expected to find Snow White there.

“Get a glamour or you’re off to the farm.” With those last words, Snow closes the door shut and leaves.

A wolfish grin stretches on Bigby’s lips, and for a moment, he forgets Colin is there and that he should dress and stop by his office as soon as possible. He still has a crime to solve and evidence to collect. If he can get Snow out of his mind at all.

“Aren’t you a happy pup, huh?” Colin interrupts his track of thoughts and taints his mood with his observations. “So, you’ve been bumping headboards with Snow? Really?”

“Shut up, Colin,” Bigby groans.

“You haven’t done a good job if she’s in that shitty mood,” he quips. “Telling me to get a glamour,” he huffs. “Doesn’t she know I have no money and no means to get it?”

Bigby turns around, looming over the pig as his eyes turn yellowish and his voice husky. “One day you’re gonna lose your head and become bacon,” he threatens.

“But not today, my friend,” Colin says, but his trembling betrays him. “Can I borrow a smoke?”

Chapter 3

Notes:

During Episode 4: In Sheep’s Clothing

Later that day

 

“Thank you for your help,” Bigby says, putting out his smoke next to Nerissa’s.

“I didn’t want to waste your time…” Nerissa sighs, her hand inadvertently reaching for the ribbon around her neck.

“You didn’t.” As expected, Nerissa could only say so much or insinuate enough for Bigby to figure out a few things about the Pudding n’ Pie and the ribbons. “But if you find a way to tell me what I need to know, you know where to find me,” Bigby finishes, a friendly hand patting her shoulder.

A knock on Bigby’s office door makes Nerissa jump off of her seat, a frightful expression on her face. “No one can find out I’m helping you,” she whispers.

Bigby stands. “It’s okay, it’s Snow.”

“Please,” Nerissa grabs his arm, her palm sweaty and her eyebrows tied in concern. “Don’t tell her I’m helping you with… these lips are sealed…” she wrinkles her eyes shut.

After another quick knock, the door springs open. “Bigby, I think I...” Snow blinks at the scene before her. “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Nerissa releases Bigby’s arm as if it was a burning rod. “Miss Snow,” she greets, fixing her purse around her shoulder uncomfortably.

“Told ya’ it was Snow, can’t fool this nose,” Bigby jokes, tapping the bridge of his nose and making Nerissa relax a little as a shy smile stretches on her lips.

Snow crosses her arms over her chest, unamused. “I just wanted to inform you that I have a new lead, although I don’t know how solid it is.” She looks back and forth between the sheriff and his visitor, but Nerissa averts her gaze. “Beauty and Beast want to speak to you.”

“Sherif,” Nerissa interrupts, ready to leave. “You should go on to your next business,” she says, her big, brown eyes staring into Bigby’s. “Miss Snow,” she mumbles as she walks past her and leaves the office.

“That was… abrupt,” Snow frowns, closing the door. “I didn’t mean to rush her out.”

“She just pointed us in the right direction, hm,” Bigby ponders, reclining back on the edge of his desk.

“What did she have to report? Was it helpful?” Snow asks, all business as if that morning she wasn’t snuggling back into his form and refusing to get out of bed until she had no other choice. He was plenty awake for most of it.

Bigby smiles at the fond memory, but it only makes Snow arch an eyebrow at him, expecting an answer. “Long story short,” Bigby begins, “the ribbons are cursed. They prevent the girls from talking and if they take them off...” He motions a finger across his neck.

“Isn’t the Pudding n’ Pie taking his discretion policy a bit too far?” Snow says. “The evidence points to their pimp, right?”

“Georgie is the one with access to them and the one to force them to wear those damn ribbons in the first place,” Bigby explains as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. “But I think this is more than securing the clients’ privacy,” Bigby says. “We know how Lily and Faith died, but what I haven’t figured out yet is why .”

“Makes sense, but…” Snow reclines on the desk right beside him, their arms brushing.

“How do their murders connect with the Crooked Man?” He glances at Snow, and she nods. “I don’t know yet, but my instincts tell me they are.”

Snow sighs, slightly disappointed that they still are a step behind and that they will never uncover the truth unless they find the Crooked Man. “So…” she hesitates, her lips pursing slightly. “Nerissa is the one you made an appointment with?”

The way she says the word puts a wolfish grin on Bigby’s mouth. “Yes, who told you that?”

“Beauty.” Snow glances up at him. She knows Bigby probably had a good reason to do so, but she couldn’t help the pang of jealousy when Beauty blurted it out without dwelling on the context or the details. She was too busy explaining why she worked there as a receptionist and why Snow, as the new Deputy Mayor, should help her and Beast out financially.

“Nerissa couldn’t talk to me, so she suggested I book a night with her,” Bigby says, his smile widening as Snow narrows her eyes, a withheld smile on her lips. “That’s how I found the hotel room where Lily was killed and a bunch of evidence against Crane.”

“She tricked the ribbon’s curse… smart girl that one,” Snow ponders, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Don’t tell me you were jealous,” Bigby says, lowering his voice.

“You wish.” Snow pierces him with a death-threatening look.

“Not even a little?” Bigby bumps his shoulder against hers. “You know I’m only sweet on you, princess,” he teases, baring white teeth at her.

“Bigby!” Snow chastises.

“What? Don’t shut me down again,” Bigby says.

“I never do such thing,” Snow retorts.

“As soon as I flirt with you, you get your knickers on a twist.”

“You shouldn’t flirt with me in the first place,” Snow chides, pointing a finger at him.

“How could I not, Snow? You’re adorable when you flirt back,” Bigby teases, that unnerving grin still on his lips. He waves her accusing finger away and lifts her chin with his knuckles. “Although it doesn’t happen as often as I would like to.”

“I absolutely do not flirt back…” Snow pats his hand away, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“C’mon don’t get mad at me,” Bigby bumps her with his shoulder again. “I’m just teasin’.”

“It’s not appropriate, Bigby,” Snow sighs, averting his gaze. “I’m the Deputy, you’re the Sheriff and we have to work together.”

“So what?”

“We’re colleagues and there are boundaries we have to respect. Both of us,” she finishes the last sentence in a thread of voice.

“What do you propose we do?” Bigby turns to stand in front of her.

“We need to be professional, for once,” Snow glances up at him, pretty sure that she’s winning the argument this time around. Hopefully, they can both focus on the investigation and not their personal life from now on.

“What if I tell you, Snow,” Bigby brackets her against the desk, looming over her and showing off that disarming wolfish grin that makes her weak on the knees. His hands spread on top of the desk, closing the distance between them. “That I don’t give a damn.”

Snow presses a hand against his chest, pushing him away just enough to switch places. Now, she’s the one cornering him against the desk, but far from losing his smile, Bigby looks amused. “You better start giving a damn, Bigby Wolf,” she warns. “Because I’m not about to ruin our relationship because you can’t bite your tongue and behave while we’re working.”

Bigby graces her with a disgruntling pout. He grips the edge of the desk with white-knuckle force to avoid linking his arms around her, ending her nonsensical complaints. He knows for a fact she enjoys his attention. After last night and this morning, there is no doubt that she has feelings for him that go beyond a mere professional relationship. Bigby can smell it all over her the second she’s around him.

“Just while we’re working?”

“Because that’s the only time we see each other!” Snow protests.

“Maybe we should fix that,” Bigby says, an almost shy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “If you were to let me buy you dinner someday or take you to the movies.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” she chides, but the soft blush on her cheeks betrays her. That and the way she hasn’t moved an inch away from him despite her perfume intoxicating his senses, and her chest rising and falling faster than usual. She’s struggling to fabricate any attempt to stay away from him, and Bigby is ready to sabotage them all.

“You know where I stand, Snow,” Bigby says, glancing down at those dark eyes that always hide behind a facade of efficiency and perfection. But the real Snow, the one he knows by heart after so many centuries, that’s the one that tames the wolf and muffles his senses with happily ever after dreams.

“Bigby,” she sighs. The hand on his chest falls at her side. “The cupboard is bare, it’s been for too long now. I have nothing to offer.”

“Keep trying until you come up with an excuse that actually convinces you,” Bigby retorts, irritated by their never-ending back-and-forth. It’d be so easy if Snow just let him prove himself, show her that he’s not anything of all the things that truly scare her. He has nothing to do with the bastard that broke her heart and burst her bubble, he’s a damn wolf for starters, not a prince.

“It’s not an excuse,” Snow says. “We simply can’t.”

“Then do what you were about to do this morning before we were interrupted,” Bigby challenges, fighting for a chance.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Snow replies, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Let’s get this over with.” Bigby lifts her chin and smiles smugly. He wets his lips, sinking his teeth on his bottom lip. Her eyes shift quickly, pupils widening before she blinks and glares up at him again.

“One kiss and you’ll drop your foolish flirting?” Snow says defiantly.

“One word from you and I wouldn’t even try,” Bigby confesses, always leaving room for Snow to back away. She never does, but she wants things her way. “But why is that the only word that never leaves your mouth so I stop chasing you?”

“Don’t tempt me, Bigby Wolf,” Snow snarls, her hands curling into tight fists at her sides. Right now, she’d rather take a swing at him than kissing the old wolf.

“I’ll settle for the kiss though,” he replies with an insouciant shrug, turning his head to the side as an invitation. “Because that’s exactly what you wanted to do this morning, don’t you, princess?”

But an untimely knock on the door interrupts their wrestling, unfortunately for both.

“What now!” Bigby and Snow growl in unison.

“This ain’t over,” Bigby grumbles, and Snow stifles a chuckle.

Upon opening the door, a very confused youth with a weird cap stands nervously outside the sheriff’s office. “Hey, Flycatcher, what are you doing here?” Bigby says, inviting him in. His office is packed with the three of them, unlike the ample Business Office that could hold a fifty-people meeting easily.

“Hello, Sheriff. Miss Snow,” Ambrose, also known as Flycatcher for his taste to eat bugs in public, greets them.

“What is it?” Snow asks.

“Oh, yes, Bigby told me to swing by the office to get my janitor job back,” he explains.

Snow turns to Bigby, who smiles fondly at the youth. “Crane got rid of him months ago and I found him working at the Tweedlers’ Office.”

“I see.”

“Can you take care of this?” Bigby asks. “I’ll go see what Beauty and Beast have to say about the Crooked Man.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Come with me, we’ll reinstate you immediately,” she says, accompanying Flycatcher outside the office. “We’ll see how many hours of community service you have left with us before Crane disposed of you so unfairly.” Snow turns around to look at Bigby who smiles and winks at her in silent agreement. 

At least that’s one guy out of the Crooked Man’s reach and yet another unfinished conversation between them.

Chapter 4

Notes:

Toward the end of Episode 4: In Sheep’s Clothing

Later that night

 

After a crazy day getting beaten up yet again and chasing one far-fetched lead after another, Bigby steps into the elevator of the Woodland with a spring on his step. At the last place he expected, he found the missing mirror shard that they needed in order to fix the Mirror and find the Crooked Man. Or at least, that’s how they believe Crane kept tabs on him.

The elevator chimes when it reaches the floor of the Business Office, and he hurries outside at the same time Toad enters. “Hey, Bigby,” he greets.

“What are you doing here?” Bigby asks. “If Snow sees you like this…”

“Too late,” Toad replies. “I came to ask for help, but since none of my problems will get solved here, I’m leaving.”

“You just need to get a glamour, it’s not that hard,” Bigby bickers.

“You have no idea how expensive that is, do you? Maybe I should turn to someone who actually cares about Fabletown.” He sounds angrier than usual.

Bigby arches an eyebrow at him, stopping the elevator doors from closing. “I do care, Toad.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye Sheriff,” Toad grumbles, hammering the elevator button while holding Bigby’s stare. He finally gives up and lets him go, heading toward the Business Office to find Snow. 

After the last few days, he can’t believe some of the fables still think he doesn’t give a shit about Fabletown. If they believe they would be better off under the Crooked Man’s reign maybe they should get a taste of what that would be. If you don’t pay, you get beaten up or killed, if you can’t afford a glamour you would be dead on the streets which is a fate even worse than the farm, and so on.

Bigby sighs, exasperated. The bad guys always make things seem so easy when they actually aren’t. Even Snow gets shit for managing the office according to the rules they agreed upon arriving at this new land. Bigby halts at the door, he hesitates for a moment, glancing down at his blood-stained clothes.

“Shit,” he curses.

At the Lucky Pawn, another one of the Crooked Man’s minions had the courtesy of sprinkling some salt over open wounds, and though things didn’t end up as they did with Tweedledum, it was close enough. Not to mention the Woodsman was there, and that can go south very fast.

Since they have little to no time to waste, Bigby enters the business office only to find Snow fighting with Bluebeard near her desk. “Great,” he mumbles, and as soon as he does, she snaps her gaze at him, the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Excuse me,” Snow says, walking toward him and cutting off Bluebeard not as politely as she uses to. Bigby half-smiles at the gesture. 

“I found it,” he says once she’s close enough.

“Finally, some good news,” Snow sighs in relief.

“Seems like your dog wants a bone just for doing his job,” Bluebeard retorts, following right behind her.

Snow glares at him. “I’ll be with you in a moment if you’ll excuse us.”

“No need. I was just leaving,” Bluebeard says, giving sheriff Bigby an unfriendly once-over as he walks toward the door. But as he grabs the doorknob, he turns around, a devilish grin on his face. “Sheriff, will you solve this case before or after we’re all under the Crooked Man’s thumb?” he says, leaving them to their business.

“Fuck you, Bluebeard!” Bigby shouts as a muffled laugh reaches them from the hall. But Snow’s hand on his forearm makes him forget the anger boiling down his stomach.

She eyes his blood-stained clothes with concern. “You got into a fight again?” Snow says, trying to find wounds where there are only superficial bruises. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, I got it rough at the Lucky Pawn, but I’m fine,” Bigby says, rolling his shoulders back. “Jersey is just another one of his minions and he put up a fight while I was questioning him.”

“Is the whole Fabletown engaged with the Crooked Man?”

“We’ve neglected some of their problems, so my guess is that yes, they are,” Bigby answers with a hint of weariness in his voice. This investigation is taking the better of him. “Glamours, loans, prostitutes… This is bigger than we thought, we need to find him.”

“Even if we do, we haven’t solved Lily and Faith’s murders,” Snow points out.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bigby promises.

“But at what cost, Bigby?” Snow asks, a deep furrow settled between her eyebrows. 

The sheriff rummages for the shard in the inner pocket of his coat and offers it to Snow. At least they still have a chance to find him and make him pay for his crimes against Fabletown. And eventually, they’ll find Crane too. Bigby holds a special place in his heart for that motherfucking bastard since he found out about his obsession with Snow.

“I’ll get this to Bufkin so he can start fixing the Mirror now,” Snow says, walking swiftly toward the little helper that hurries to meet her as soon as he guesses what’s in her hand.

Bigby prowls his way toward the main desk, which used to be Crane’s desk, and lights up a smoke. He takes a long drag until his lungs are full and the only thing he can smell is the awful tang of his Huffs n’ Puffs and Snow; always her. He takes another quick drag as he eyes Bufkin fly excitedly around Snow and the missing piece.

As soon as Bufkin starts working on putting the Mirror back together, Snow returns to his side, a gentle smile on her lips. “It’ll be a while, but you could use a respite,” she says.

“And a whiskey,” Bigby groans. “By the way, what was Toad doing here? I came across him on the elevator.”

Snow rolls her eyes. “He came to see if I could help him and his son get a glamour.” Bigby eyes her suspiciously, guessing how that turned out. “I told him he’s off to the farm if he doesn’t get a glamour on his own by the end of the day since the office can’t afford to pay for every fable that wants to live in the city.”

“That’s how the whole town is leaning on the Crooked Man instead of us because he gets things done,” Bigby points out, annoyed. “Even though they turn against them in the end.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Snow says, defeated by the circumstances. “I wish I could. Now that I’m Deputy Mayor…”

“That glamour rule is gonna bite us in the ass sooner than later,” Bigby mumbles. 

There are so many fables wanting to get out of the Farm and into the Woodland that it’s impossible to accommodate everything and every one; not if they need to keep their existence a secret from the mundys. The waiting list for an apartment is a hundred feet long already. Even though the Farm is far from a prison, its residents are not allowed to go outside. The problem is, the more human-like fables don’t care that others can’t live in the city or travel the world and are confined to a secured area far from the mundys.

“We set those rules and we have to abide by them,” Snow protests.

“Still,” Bigby quips, putting off the smoke on Crane’s old desk. Snow gives him a disapproving glare.

“That’s my desk now, Bigby,” Snow scolds him.

“Sorry,” he smiles, but Snow isn’t buying his nonchalance tonight.

Seeing her upset reminds him of what’s been bothering him all day, and his expression darkens. He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Look, Snow,” he begins. “I think we should have that conversation now.”

“Bigby, we’re at war, this is…”

“I need to say what I need to say before I go find the Crooked Man,” he says, taking her hand into his so she won’t fight him on this anymore. He’ll say what’s been on his mind and heart for too long already and she either listens to him or it’s his cue to leave Fabletown for good. “In case…”

“Don’t say it,” Snow hisses, squeezing his hand, her eyes stinging as the memory of Bigby bleeding out in her arms comes back to haunt her.

“In case something goes wrong and I don’t come back at all,” Bigby finishes despite the pain he reads in Snow’s countenance. He can even feel her tremble at the mere thought of losing him. He’ll do anything to come back to her whether she wants him or not, but it may not be his choice this time. “I don’t know what he’s got up his sleeve and wherever I’m going, I’m going alone.”

Snow nods, glancing quickly at Bufkin who is still busy figuring out how to fit the shard on the Mirror. Then, she beckons Bigby to follow her although she never releases his big, warm hand. Bigby peeks down at their joining hands and his heart swells at the simplicity of the gesture and how at ease he feels. If everything was that simple as holding hands and cherishing this odd warmth in his chest.

The business office is humongous, and far from the desks that frame the entrance, there are ample rooms full of relics older than all the fables together except, maybe, the Big Bad Wolf. It took them centuries to explore these chambers, and there are some secrets still hidden in the dark. Bigby knows about a few of them.

Near the huge magic tree that hoards a good portion of the main room, Snow seems to relax. They’re away from prying eyes or ears that would tarnish their conversation. Nonetheless, a whiff is enough for Bigby to confirm they’re as alone as they’ll get tonight.

He follows her close until they stop behind a huge marble column.

“I don’t think we’ll get more privacy than this,” Snow says, finally releasing Bigby’s hand. She’s expecting that words start coming out of his mouth, and yet the wolf remains silent, pinning her in place with a dark, piercing stare. He even looks unsure. “What I said this morning,” Snow babbles, breaking their silence. “I… it’s just to make things easier for us.”

“I know, and I’d love to make things easy for you, Snow, but…” Bigby struggles to find the words. He runs a nervous hand through his hair and swallows around the lump in his throat. A thousand lifetimes swarming the worlds and he gets tongue-tied in front of Snow. He reclines back on the column, the cold stone seeping through his clothes.

“Bigby,” she mumbles, drawing close and reaching for his face so he looks at her.

“I want you, Snow,” Bigby says in a raspy voice. “And I think you want me too.”

“Why now?” Her gaze lits up, and it almost seems like the ice around her heart melted upon listening to his words. How could she have any doubts that everything Bigby does is because of her?

“I’ve wanted you for a long time,” Bigby confesses. “Longer than I should.”

“Want me how, Bigby? Because if this is just something you need to scratch off your bucket list I’d ask you to save us the trouble,” Snow says, her eyes narrowing. But her heart pounds in her chest unbridled. Despite everything, she cannot afford to want this, to want him .

“You know me better than that, Snow,” Bigby says. “I don’t act on impulse and I would never hurt you on purpose.”

Snow sighs, her hand sliding down his chest and then wringing his shirt into her fist. As overwhelmed as she is, as pleased to hear those words; even hopeful that they are true, a treacherous tear trickles down her cheek. Bigby picks it up with his knuckle, caressing her face in the process.

“I’m sorry, okay?” he mumbles, pleading into her bleary eyes. “I know what’s at stake with this investigation, the bullshit that happened with Crane, and the Crooked Man running havoc all over Fabletown. I know you have a lot on your plate.”

“Bigby, it’s not…”

“My timing is far from impeccable,” he says. “I won’t mention any of this again, but I needed to tell you, and I’ll even keep my distance if that’s what you want,” he sighs, “what you need.”

“Bigby…” An amused smile stretches on her lips as he goes on and on. “You, big dumbass,” Snow teases, throwing both arms around his neck on a whim.

Her body falls gently against him, and Bigby has barely time to wrap his arms around her waist to hold her for dear life. “You can’t say what I need to hear just like that,” Snow whispers, her arms closing around his broad shoulders, her feet tiptoeing on the floor to make up for the height she lacks to level with him. Bigby’s firm body is as warm and strong as she felt the night before.

“If that’s not a no, what do you want?” Bigby asks, reclining back on the cold stone in case his wobbly legs fail to keep him upright.

“I have no idea, Bigby,” she breathes out against his lips, turning her head to the side as her half-lidded eyes stare into his whiskey-colored gaze. A thousand years look back at her, tinged with the fear of first love, the impulse of a new lover, the regrets of a beast that’s run wild without a care in the world, except now. Because of Snow. “But I think we should find out together.”

“I mean it, Snow, all of it,” Bigby promises, a hand slowly moving up to cup the back of her neck. He notes her ragged breath and beating heart against his body, his other hand falling down the small of her back. Her body trembles under his touch, her scent filling his senses like an intoxicating drug. “I can wait, and I can follow. I’ve been called your dog enough times to believe it, and I don’t mind,” Bigby whispers against her lips, still finding not a single trace of remorse or regret, of doubt or hesitation.

She leans her body against him, her mouth parting as the tip of her tongue wets her bottom lip. A groan comes out of his lips, and on his next breath, Bigby takes the air right from her mouth, hovering over her plump lips until, with a smart push of her feet, Snow seals their mouths in a blissful union. The sweetest moan of relief comes out of her, and Bigby drinks it all like a cold glass of water in a hot summer. If the ice around her heart isn’t gone yet, he’s determined to melt it with the heat of what he thought was unrequited love.

Snow; his Snow. She parts her mouth and stretches her tongue to taste him. A happy growl rumbles in his chest, letting her explore and control the kiss for just a few moments. Bigby enjoys the attention and freedom in which Snow spares open-mouthed kisses all over his lips. But his instincts tire of waiting, of being tamed and repressed, and Bigby takes her mouth with a muttered groan, stealing yet another delectable moan from her lips.

Bigby repays her attentions in kind, trapping her kissable, red lips into his mouth, parting them with a swipe of his tongue, and sliding inside to fight and conquer. Snow pants in between kisses, her arms tightening around his neck, her mouth struggling to catch up with desire she’s never known until now. The kisses are deep, wet, desperate; unbridled of joy and lust. In her heart, there is no doubt about how Bigby wants her; all of her, and if she’d let him, he’ll take it here and now.

The thought curls her stomach nice and warm, her leg bending around his side as if climbing him up was her sole purpose. Bigby grins into the kiss, a husky chuckle interrupting briefly the exchange. He turns them around, pinning her against the wall as gently as he’s able to. His hands shake with impatience, but they squeeze her waist and her thigh greedily. Damn the clothes that stand between them for he only wants to feel her skin against skin and nothing in between.

His stubble scratches her skin in the most enticing way, she’s lusted beyond reason, and it makes her slick and hot between her legs. Under the raw desire of the wolf, Snow halts his relentless kisses, biting his lower lip as she gasps a thready moan that ignites something lascivious in Bigby, the space in his trousers getting uncomfortably tight. Bigby thrusts upward with a growl, his gaze darkening.

The space between them is non-existent as they breathe the same air, share the close embrace, and feel the heat of their bodies sliding against each other at the rhythm of their unbridled breaths.

“Bigby,” Snow mumbles, her eyes lost in his, her body giving in to whatever Bigby wants. The pulsing between her legs follows the lead of her heart, and knowing they’ll have to break apart soon, she lets her tongue out to taste one last time the wonders of his lips. They taste like true love and it scares her. Salty and sweet at the same time, the warmth of his mouth calling her to surrender.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bigby states as if he had just found out. Everyone knows who’s the fairest of them all, but only he has seen her true beauty as she comes undone under his kisses. But how long has it been already and how much longer do they have?

Her swollen, red lips stretch in a smile far from shy. “Bigby, we need to…”

“I know,” he grumbles, sliding her leg back to the ground and leaning on the sturdy stone to keep himself upright and somewhat apart from her. It aches, but Snow maps her hands over his chest and eases the sting of the separation. The scent of raw lust all over her makes his cock twitch inside his trousers, his hand palming the jutting bulge to get some relief. The only relief he’ll get here and now.

Snow’s smile widens, kissing gently his cheek as she steps to the side to breathe some air. They need some space to ground themselves. “That was a good damn kiss, Bigby Wolf,” she says, watching Bigby run a hand through his hair, the other looking for something inside his pocket. He takes out his Huffs n’ Puffs and taps the packet, taking one smoke between his lips.

“I got many more where that one came from,” Bigby teases, a wolfish grin on his face.

“The Mirror’s ready!” Bufkin’s shouting sounds distant, but knowing the flying monkey, he’ll find them quickly. “Hello? I said the Mirror is ready!” His voice echoes in the chamber, and Bigby and Snow share a knowing glance and a quick smile before they walk back to where they can be found.

“Bigby,” Snow calls as he exhales a cloud of smoke in front of them. “Be careful.”

“Always,” he answers.

“I mean it, you better come back.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Bigby says with a mischievous smile, “I intend to finish what I started.” He grabs her forearm and halts, landing a sweet, long kiss on her unprepared lips. A kiss almost chaste compared to the ones they shared moments ago. It still leaves her breathless and surprised at how natural it feels to receive some unexpected affection from him. 

“Now let’s find the Crooked Man.”

Snow watches him go and takes her fingertips to her still swollen lips. She tastes him behind the unpleasant tang of tobacco, and somehow, she senses a hint of fear as if Bigby truly thought this was not just their first but their last kiss. And now that fear conquers her too.

Chapter 5

Summary:

NSFW (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

Notes:

After Episode 5: Cry Wolf

The next day

 

Bigby awakes in his bed, swathed by the darkness of the night and nothing more. He blinks his eyes open, stretching sore limbs since he’s still recovering from the last days on the hunt. He sits upright, finding himself alone except for the noises of the city coming in through a cracked window. He’s been sleeping all day.

After an exhausting night, it only followed a boring day of bureaucracy. Bigby brought the Crooked Man back for a fair trial. Snow insisted, although if it were for him, he would’ve killed the bastard in the spot just to make things easier for everyone. But Fabletown demanded justice, and he was the sheriff; he had to do things by the book now.

Hours of useless conversations about the Crooked Man’s alleged innocence preceded the final verdict: the bastard ended up thrown down the witching well. Suited Bigby just fine after what he had uncovered during the past few days. His investigation confirmed that the Crooked Man’s influence had branched all over Fabletown doing more harm than good. Most of the implicated parties were happy with the result, even the new Deputy Mayor, Snow White. 

The Crooked Man had used, extorted, and coerced half the community and it didn’t do him any favors. Nerissa also came to testify against him, which irked Bigby. Not just for the timing of her arrival but the accusations he had no way to prove. But believing in her testimony made things easier. The Crooked Man was guilty, he was responsible for ordering Lily and Faith’s murders and he already paid for it; so did Georgie and Vivian.

Bigby sits at the edge of the bed with a grunt, his head between his hands. After the trial, he couldn’t find a moment alone with Snow, and as soon as he did, she sent him over to Dr. Swineheart. He had hoped to find her later in the day, but now it’s too late. Bigby checks the nearest clock, confirming it’s almost midnight. He only fell into bed following Swineheart’s orders, but he didn’t expect to sleep the whole day away.

As he stands, he turns on a light and heads toward the bathroom. Bigby starts the shower, letting the water warm up as the noise fills the room. He takes off his clothes and steps inside, groaning from sheer relief when the hot stream hits his sore muscles just the right way. He makes quick work of showering, wondering what should he do now, awake at these wee hours and with no pending cases to solve. It’s strange how he drives himself through work, dreading it, and then feels empty when there’s nothing to do. Although there is always something going on in Fabletown.

After a short shower, he drops in bed drenched in water with the towel still around his waist. The only thing that awaits him is a sleepless night waiting for the morning to come. Then a thought settles in his mind. “This is ridiculous,” Bigby grumbles.

The urge to make it a reality takes form as soon as he’s dressed and rushing outside the door of his apartment. Regret will catch up on him later once he’s at her door and his courage fades. That’s if he manages to go up a few stories in the Woodland building without being noticed. Luckily for him, stealth is one of his strong suits.

 

***

Snow White, the newly appointed Deputy Mayor of Fabletown, has been tossing and turning in bed for the past hour. What keeps her awake has nothing to do with the amount of extra work that her new position threw over her shoulders or the complaints about how the sheriff mishandled the matter. What won’t let her sleep is the need for an old wolf wrapped around her frame.

Snow grunts in frustration, kicking the sheets for the tenth time tonight. Her eyes open wide as her mind refuses to let her sleep. She thought about finding Bigby at his apartment hours ago, but she assumed he’d be sleeping, resting, or simply gone. Perhaps he needs some time to think about what happened between them, or worse, second-guess the rushed decisions they made in the heat of the moment. They no longer have a hanging threat over their shoulders.

The sweet memory keeps seeping into her mind and replaying on a loop. She turns around, face-first on the pillow, muffling a groan there. She’s angry at her own reaction to the memories, but her body aches and demands more of those breathless kisses; of that firm, muscled body against her accompanied by the husky whispers of his voice into her lips. She’s had a taste of Bigby Wolf and now she wants seconds.

Snow lies on her back again, staring at the empty ceiling. Her bed is way too big for her now, and awfully lonesome for Bigby. She wishes he was here now, sparing those lustful kisses all over her body without interruptions or life-threatening missions. Just a never-ending night of his mouth tracing every dip and mound on her body. Her fingers stroke her neck and down to her collarbone, a long, needy exhale emptying her lungs.

Outside, the night is in full bloom and a round, white moon stands proudly in the sky. The view is one of the few privileges that come with the job. The full moon brings an unsettling feeling to her heart, and Snow leaps out of bed in a swift movement. “I’m over this,” she grumbles.

She stomps her way outside the bedroom, grabbing a long coat from the entryway closet and covering her body with it as she makes up her mind about what she’s about to do. But as soon as Snow opens the front door of her apartment, she gasps in surprise.

“Bigby!”

Bigby Wolf stands outside her door, his fist in the air as if he was about to knock on her door.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says, lowering his hand a bit embarrassed.

“You didn’t even knock,” Snow snorts, amused by the situation. “Why are you all dressed up at my door? It’s almost midnight,” she points out.

“Why are you wearing your coat over your gown?” Bigby quips, arching an eyebrow at her.

“I had an important matter I had to discuss with you,” Snow says, lifting her chin proudly. “It couldn’t wait until morning.”

“Barefoot?” Bigby glances down at her feet and takes the opportunity to roam his gaze all over her body until he meets her eyes. She pins him in place with a glare. “Don’t kick me out yet, princess, didn’t you want to see me?”

Out of the blue, Snow darts forward, crashing against him, arms winding around his shoulders. “Oh, Bigby…” she buries her face in his neck, taking him in with a deep inhale.

Bigby holds her tightly against him with a sigh of relief and a huge grin on his lips. He lifts her up enough to walk them both inside her apartment. A kick of his foot takes care of the door.

“You’ve been gone all day, are you okay?” Snow mumbles, lips brushing the skin on his neck.

“Yes, dear,” Bigby says, returning her back to the floor. “You were going to find me, weren’t you?” A wolfish grin bares his teeth.

Snow backs away to glance up at him, a blush spreading on her cheeks. “You know damn well I was, but you saved me a trip.”

“Happy to help,” Bigby says, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

After a surreptitious smile, Snow takes off her coat, returning it to the closet. Bigby clears his throat upon seeing the silky, white gown she was hiding underneath. Ignoring the shameless ogling, Snow takes Bigby’s hand, guiding him inside her apartment without uttering another word or explanation. Not that Bigby needs any to follow suit.

As they cross the living room, Bigby whistles playfully. “I do really live in the smallest apartment in the Woodland, don’t I?” he grumbles. “I should ask for a raise.”

Snow tugs at his arm, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Is that what you came here to discuss, sheriff?” she teases, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Absolutely not,” Bigby chuckles. He enjoys being manhandled by Snow, always bossy when she knows what she wants and how to get it. And for centuries now, he’s been all about pleasing her.

The long nightgown ripples at her ankles as she walks, the white silk revealing the sinuous curve of her spine, the fullness of her hips, and the shape of her waist. The low cleavage on her back reveals perfect, smooth skin. She’s a vision in white, and Bigby licks his lips, wanting to find out what’s softer, the satin she wears or the skin underneath. He already knows the answer. Bigby swallows, his mouth parting to get a much-needed intake of air. 

But the lustful thoughts and the playfulness of their stroll end when Bigby realizes they’re inside her bedroom. Snow halts, spinning around to look at him. “Why were you at my door, Bigby?”

Caught red-handed in one last long stare at her backside, Bigby lifts his gaze. “I woke up alone, and…” he smiles almost shyly. “I missed ya’.” Snow returns his smile.

She slides her hands underneath his coat, mapping his shoulders as she helps Bigby shrug off the heavy layer. Snow leaves it on a chair nearby, then motions her hands to unbutton his shirt. She slowly reveals the dense body hair underneath, but on the third button, Bigby takes her hands into his, thwarting her attempt to undress him. 

“Snow?”

“You’re not getting in bed with your clothes on,” Snow answers, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I could get used to this, are we going to make it a habit?” Bigby says, indulging her. Snow finishes with both cuffs and slides the garment down his shoulders. This time, the shirt falls unceremoniously behind them.

“You’re lucky I’m fond of you,” Snow teases, her hands running down his torso until her fingertips sneak underneath the belt and the hem of his trousers. She licks her lips, his gaze heavy on her.

“As long as you let me in your bed, dear,” Bigby quips, his throat dry, his cock waking up by the mere sight of her, not to mention the deft hands undoing his belt. His stomach curls nice and warm every time she brushes the happy trail below his navel.

“I don’t think I can do without you tonight,” Snow confesses, glancing up at Bigby with her dark, innocent eyes. They lose the naivete once she bites her lower lip to stifle a mischievous smile.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Bigby says in a husky voice that undoes her insides.

Snow smiles at the statement, because she’s thought that same thing a few times already. “I’m glad you made it back in one piece,” Snow mumbles as her hands unbutton his trousers and pry open his fly.

“Me too,” Bigby whispers more distracted by her doing than the conversation.

Her hand palms gently the jutting bulge on his boxers, and Bigby’s lips part in a groan. “You can take care of the rest, yes?” Snow gives him a peck on the corner of his mouth, leaving him there standing with the trousers hanging around his hips and his mouth on the floor.

First, Snow turns a dim light on, then she sneaks under the covers of the bed, her black hair spreading on the pillow invitingly, almost as tempting as the way she folds the covers open by her side and beckons him to join her. Bigby almost trips on his own clothes as he toes his shoes off and steps out of his discarded garments.

He crawls into bed and curls around her. She feels like home if he ever had one, the place he wants to return after a long day, his haven, his sweet dream. Snow is and always will be his happily ever after; if he even deserves one of those. He buries his face in her hair, hands wrapping tightly around her in a cage of limbs. Her scent awakes instincts he thought long gone in his human form, makes him desire her even more.

“Are you okay?” Snow whispers, kissing his forehead as her delicate fingers brush a few strands of hair out of his face. It’s slightly damp.

Bigby meets her eyes, propping himself up on an elbow by her side and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I am now.” Bigby ponders his next words. “Are you sure you want me here?”

Snow smiles, finding his mouth for a soft kiss. She moans deliciously right into his lips, and Bigby mumbles a curse. “I was going to find you,” Snow whispers quietly, “determined to convince you to let me inside your bed.”

It takes the better of him not to laugh. “I wouldn’t need much convincing, princess.”

“You’re pretty easy, Bigby Wolf,” Snow teases, escaping his lips only to fall back into them on her next breath. “But don’t worry, I’m a lady and I won’t tell.” Bigby breaks into a peal of laughter, bringing her with as she drapes over his body. She looks at him amused, curious of seeing him happy perhaps for the first time ever.

It’s not until he calms down that she kisses him again, and again, until her lips are full and plump and slick with his saliva. His fingers stroke timidly her back, giving her shivers of pleasure down her spine. Meanwhile, her hand traces and maps his strong chest, threading her slender fingers on the fuzz there.

“Should I get the light so we can rest?” Bigby mumbles, the spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Bigby Wolf,” Snow chides, “did you think I brought you to my bed to sleep?” Snow climbs on top of him, already discarding the sheets that pool at their side. She braces herself on his body, sinking her hips into the heat of his groin.

“I didn’t want to assume…” Bigby hesitates, but his hands are already groping for her thighs, and when she rolls her hips he groans. “Snow,” he mumbles huskily.

“What?” she teases, leaning forward as she hovers over him. “Not what you had in mind?”

Bigby moves his hands up to her backside, squeezing all the way over the silky gown. “You have no idea what’s been on my mind,” he mumbles, bucking his hips upward. “I want this more than anything, Hell, I don’t even think I’ve ever wanted anything until I met you.” Snow’s lips stretch in a gentle smile, her hair falling at both sides of her head, a strap of the gown sliding down her shoulder. “But what’s gotten into you?”

“I’m tired, Bigby,” she says, settling down on his stomach while his big hands coax her to keep talking. He strokes up and down her thighs, his whiskey-colored eyes staring at her. “I’m tired of pretending to be someone that I’m not,” she shrugs, “or to not want something that I wholeheartedly do.”

“What do you want?” Bigby asks, his heart aching for her.

“I want you, Bigby Wolf, here and now with me,” Snow says, the corner of her mouth pulling upward in a sincere smile.

“You really know how to make me a happy wolf,” Bigby says, propping himself up with one arm so he can reach her mouth. Their smiles melt into one, into an open-mouthed kiss full of intent and promises untold until then. They’ve been hiding in plain sunlight for too long.

“Unless,” Snow mumbles, pushing Bigby down to the mattress as she stands tall and proud on top of him. He arches an eyebrow at her, expectant. “Unless you’re badly hurt and can’t perform…” she teases, leaning down to kiss his neck, her hands finding solace on his shoulders. His chest rumbles with a low chuckle as he gropes for her buttocks again.

“I’m glad you figured out you don’t want a prince, Snow,” Bigby whispers into her ear, making sure his lips brush her earlobe. “But are you aware you got a wolf instead?”

Snow sits upright, crossing her arms as she gathers the silky gown up and slides it over her head with a swift movement. The garment falls off the bed and onto the floor of her bedroom. Although she’s barely naked, she’s never felt more herself in a long time.

Bigby mumbles a curse, swiping his gaze all over her, afraid to miss any detail of her beautiful complexion. Snow owns him to the core, straddling him while wearing just a pair of lacy panties and her soul. He almost needs to pinch himself in case this is just a treacherous dream.

“Does that answer your question, wolf ?” Snow teases.

His hands trail up her stomach until he cups her breasts, taking them into his greedy hands. He fondles them gently, watching her face bloom into a rosy pink, her lips plump by her own bites and the previous kisses, her breath seizing up in her chest whenever he squeezes gently the soft skin of her bosom. Snow’s hands wrap around his wrists, encouraging his caresses, her hips shyly riding him all the while. She notes the hard cock that’s still trapped in his boxers, the dampness of her own underwear anticipating the inevitable.

“So what about being colleagues and keeping it professional?” Bigby teases, returning his hands back down her hips as he sits upright, his mouth level with her breasts.

“Bigby,” Snow moans when his tongue darts out and licks a patch of her skin. “Are you trying to change my mind?” Bigby ignores her, mouthing his way to a hard nipple and suckling around it. The blue streak of nonsense that comes out of her mouth makes him tease her even more. He flicks his tongue over the hard nip, his fingers sliding underneath the sides of her underwear. “Because your actions don't match your words,” Snow says.

He hums pleasantly, savoring the taste of her flesh and enjoying even more the luscious melody of her moans. “Answer me,” she whines, tugging at his hair until Bigby reluctantly lets go of her abused, reddened breast.

“I want to make sure you don’t regret this in the morning,” Bigby confesses, swiping his tongue over her nipple once more, his thumb tracing circles on her hip bone. “Or ever.”

Snow braces herself on his shoulders. “I don’t act on impulse, Bigby Wolf, you should know that by now,” she says, throwing his own words back at him.

A wolfish grin stretches on his lips. “Fair enough, princess.”

Grabbing her hips with both hands, Bigby turns both of them around until she’s lying flat on the bed and he’s hovering on top of her. Snow gasps, surprised, and watches Bigby hook his fingers on her panties, sliding them down her legs and leaving her blissfully naked and under his mercy.

Bigby moans out loud at the downright mouth-watering spectacle that is her body bared just for him. “What did I do to deserve you, Snow?” Bigby asks, glancing one last time at the black shadow of her sex before he leans forward and takes her mouth in a deep kiss full of tongue and raw desire.

Snow opens her mouth to savor his kisses, her legs spreading around his broad frame, her heart beating unbridled. He kisses her chin, licks her neck, and comes back to bite and suckle at her lips until she’s gasping for air and mumbling his name.

Her hands sneak across his sides to tug and pull at his boxers. She lifts her ankles to aid the task, but there’s no need. Bigby shimmies them off and kicks them out of the bed along with the sheets. They won’t need them. His warmth will swathe her, and his body will heat her up. His cock springs out of his trap, firm and ready, and when he comes back to her, it rests against her lower belly. The feel of his length against her makes her moan.

Now that they’re skin against skin, Snow arches her spine, her spit-licked breasts brushing against his hairy chest, his weight comforting and promising against her own lithe body. She writhes and searches for his mouth, his smirking lips, the pulsing vein on his neck. Overwhelmed and trapped underneath, she bites him, but his sole response is a low growl and a soft bite down her neck, repaying her in kind.

“Snow…” he says her name like a plea, like a mantra of love and reassurance.

Then his mouth fills with her again, tracing the mounds of her breasts, the dip in between, the sinuous path down her navel. “Bigby, please.” Snow aches, overstimulated as the need of him fogs her mind and wets her sex.

“Wait,” Bigby says knowingly. He can smell it all over her, the want, the desire, the need of him finally getting the better of her. “Let me taste you,” he pauses, smiling teasingly. “But not how I tasted you all these years ago.” 

Her eyes widen as a memory of a big wolf comes to her mind. The day they met and sealed more than a bargain to cross to this world. Was that the spark that ignited everything that followed? Snow sure dreamed of the Big Bad Wolf in the years to follow, but always dreams, never nightmares. Had he howled to the moon for her after that day? Had he missed her on lonely nights? When he was still part of the Homelands and she was building Fabletown?

Snow gets a glimpse of white teeth and a pair of pointy fangs that she would swear wasn’t there moments ago. From her firm belly, his tongue trails an invisible path that gets lost in her pubic hair. Her legs sprawl inadvertently, her knees drawing closer to her waist. And yet Bigby wraps both his arms around each of her thighs spreading her even wider for him.

Bigby inhales her scent, burying his nose in her dark curls. “You smell good enough to eat,” he teases, his voice deep and growly.

“Aren’t you starving, Bigby Wolf,” Snow says with a scarlet smirk.

“If you knew…”

Bigby buries his face on her tender flesh, tasting her slick cunt for the first time. One swipe of his tongue has his cock leaking, and his balls drawing up ready for release. Snow moans at the gentle touch of a warm, wet tongue against her. Her legs tremble, and Bigby grips them tighter, his mouth opening for another taste.

He strokes the silky, soft skin with long swipes of his unashamed tongue, opening her up with the tip, savoring her scent, and her tangy taste. Bigby glances up at her and is surprised when her eyes are fixed on him and far from bashful. Teasingly, he lets his tongue out for another lascivious lap. Snow is unabashed by everything he does, toying with his hair, fingertips caressing his scalp, and following the movements of his head as he eats her up. Her glazing eyes and sexy smile work as the best encouragement, and Bigby forgets his cock swells painfully at every passing moment. He’s never been more ready to take her and make her his for the rest of his miserable life.

Snow watches, mouth agape, how Bigby wraps his mouth around his clit and suckles, flicking his tongue for a few seconds before he comes back to a slow pace of spreading her pussy open swipe after swipe of his skillful tongue.

She struggles and writhes under his hold, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better view. She wants to be devoured because she’s been starving too. Bigby plays her to no end, biting her inner thigh before staring right into her eyes. He slowly lowers his flat tongue to her swollen clit, licking it in slow, tender swipes that make Snow thrash her head back until she eventually falls flat on the mattress, the pillow hugging her head. “Bigby,” she moans, wringing the sheets at her sides.

She glances down at him again. “It’s been so long,” she whispers, her hands gripping his hair, her hips curving upward against his hot mouth. 

Then Bigby leaves her hanging like the tease she knew he’d be. “I doubt it’s been longer for you than it’s been for me,” he confesses, licking her inner thigh, then where the hip meets the leg. Bigby only strokes her with his tongue whenever he pleases, when she moans for it or when the desperate rocking of her hips manages to find the treat. 

“You’re evil,” she pouts.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bigby quips, briefly amused by the desperate attempts of Snow to get more of his mouth. “But I can be good too…”

A silent moan leaves her lungs when Bigby breathes hot and slow into her cunt, followed by a flat tongue and swollen lips taking her back where she belongs and high into the skies. He glances up at her, watching the wave of pleasure conquering her countenance. Her beautiful, dark eyes flutter shut, her mouth agape as she pants.

“Bigby, please,” Snow pleads, “come up here and take me or give me some relief.”

Bigby chuckles, circling her clit with his tongue inside the cave of his mouth. “Alright, princess, I think I’ll do both.”

He spreads her pussy with his tongue, finds her slick entrance, and laps the essence of her with a groan. His hips thrust against the mattress trying to find some friction, but nothing but her slick walls will do tonight. Bigby eases his hold on her, allowing Snow to wind her legs over his shoulders.

“Don’t stop now,” she demands, pushing down his upper back with her heels.

Stifling a grin, Bigby sinks his tongue into her sweet warmth. Her taste invades his mouth, his tongue fighting its way inside her. He stretches an arm to grab her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple as he fucks her with his tongue. Her juices run down his chin, her hips pushing upward at the def plunging of his tongue.

Despite the immense pleasure he takes in this, he flicks his tongue over her slick entrance and runs his mouth upward, tasting tender flesh aroused by his doing. Bigby traps her clit into his heavenly mouth once more, sucking rhythmically as he squeezes her breast.

“Oh, please,” Snow moans, a hand gripping a handful of his hair to angle his mouth exactly where she wants it.

Bigby complies, pushing his tongue against the sensitive spot, brushing the flat tip over her swollen clit over and over. He enjoys the pride and beauty of being the reason she comes undone in his mouth, and keeping the image close to his heart, Bigby closes his eyes and offers her exactly what she demands, what she needs, what he aches to give her.

Her climax overcomes her in an unexpected wave of pleasure. Her body stiffens, and trembles, her legs fall slack over his shoulders, her hips pulsing against his gentle tongue that still moves and rides her orgasm with her. Bigby doesn’t part with her, offering every last bit of pleasure he can before it’s over and she falls slack on the bed again. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

As her ragged breath eases, Bigby spares kisses on her inner thighs, watching the wet mess he’s made of her and the beauty of pure love in her sex. He tastes her one last time, enjoying that sweet spasm of overstimulation when his tongue brushes past her clit. He’d spend a lifetime between her legs and never tire of it.

“Ah,” Snow moans, the hand on his hair easing her grip, her eyes fluttering open as she glances down at his proud and smug wolf. “Eat me any day you want, Bigby,” she says with a smirk, “I don’t even care if I survive the deed or not.”

Bigby chuckles, trailing his mouth up her body, biting and kissing in equal measure. “My sweet, sweet love… pure as driven snow…” he mumbles, making her laugh. He levels with her blushing face, her recent orgasm making her even more beautiful and carefree.

Snow seals their lips together, tasting herself along with the comforting taste of Bigby. Despite her recent release, the kiss turns deep and heated, tongues tied as her legs wrap around his waist to draw him closer. She tries to cling to him with both arms too, but Bigby traps her wrists and pushes them down against the pillow at both sides of her head.

“I gave you a chance to get away,” Bigby whispers huskily against her mouth, his body settling heavier on top of her. “Now I’ll get my fill and I’ll make sure you get yours too,” he promises.

Snow stifles a laugh, trying to move and finding herself bested by the wolf. She’s never wanted to be anywhere more than underneath his body as he gives in to years of piled-up lust. “Such a bad wolf,” she teases, parting her lips and lifting her head off the pillow for a brief, longing kiss from his lips.

“Don’t forget the big part, princess,” Bigby arches an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

“Are you just bragging?” Snow says with a surreptitious smile “Because you haven’t even let me touch you yet.”

Bigby releases her wrists, bracing himself on his forearm and knees, his fingertips tracing the curve of her lips. “I was busy giving you the pleasure you so insistently asked for, dear,” he says, “and you were busy receiving all of it.” Upon seeing her bright smile, Bigby gives a peck to her cheek, mouthing his way down her jawline and neck for a gentle bite and more tender kisses. Her skin prickles under his touch while her hand travels down his strong torso and firm stomach, muscles rippling under her caresses.

“Though there’s only one way for you to find ou… ohhh,” Bigby finishes with a low moan, his forehead dropping gently against her chest.

Snow wraps a far-from-timid hand around his cock, giving him a long, measuring stroke. She enjoys the way his body trembles and answers to her shameless caress. “Hm,” she hums against his ear, stroking up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace. He’s thick and long enough to make her shiver, her sex already pulsing between her legs. Bigby turned out to be everything she never knew she wanted, and it took her too long to realize it. 

She traces circles with her thumb over the dripping tip while Bigby exhales another low growl against her skin. Snow’s far from disappointed, her legs brushing both sides of his body, her hand fisting his cock and receiving the gauged thrusts of the wolf. She’s pretty sure she could coax him to completion alarmingly fast. But that’s the opposite of what Snow wants.

“Okay, Big Bad Wolf,” Snow teases, slowly releasing him. “Are you going to make good on your promises and finish what you started?”

Bigby sits on his calves, spreading his thighs to make room for her there. His glistening cock rests against her sex while his hands map her body once more from her stomach to her breasts and back again. They’re warm and rough, making her feel all kinds of vulnerable while also safe and cared for.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be finished with you, Snow,” he says with a grin. “But I’m a wolf of my word.”

Bigby rocks against her, his cock brushing her soft skin. Snow arches her back, mumbling his name like a plea. He leans forward, draping over her like the most tender but determined lover. She receives him with arms and legs around him, her hands stroking the little hairs at his nape as she opens her mouth and herself for him.

“Bigby.”

He muffles his name with a deep, intense kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth as his hips tilt back and upward. The tip of his cock finds her slick entrance. She’s hot and soft, his dreams never did her any justice. “Snow,” he whispers, glancing right into her eyes, a trail of saliva joining their bottom lips. He enters her in a long, slow glide forward, hips thrusting all the way, relishing the tender embrace of her slippery walls until he’s balls deep inside her.

Her legs tighten around his waist, and so does her, biting back a moan as she thrashes her head back in sheer pleasure. The satisfaction of being so full of him, so ready to enjoy the pleasures of sharing a bed with the one she wants, the one she loves even though she isn’t ready to confess that just yet.

Bigby stays still, grounding himself on his knees, a hand sneaking underneath her back and down her buttocks to hold her tighter against him. He’s so deep inside her his breath seizes in his chest, his heart hammering many emotions through his old soul.

“Move,” Snow gasps, pretty, dark eyes staring intently at him. She spurs him on with the balls of her feet, her hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

Bigby bares a pair of white fangs with his smile, lifting her up with a hand beneath her upper back. His thighs cup her frame to perfection, keeping her in place as he rocks halfway in and out of her tight heat. Snow moans as she thrashes her head back, trusting him implicitly as she hangs from his sure embrace.

“I’ve wanted this for so long now,” Bigby whispers, licking a patch of skin up to her neck. His other hand squeezes her thigh as he pounds his way inside her over and over. His mouth travels down her chest, finding a perked nipple and wrapping around it. He suckles and hums in unison with her soft moans, fucking into her as if he’d never have another chance.

Perhaps reason might caught-up with her, or his old ways will come back to snatch him, their time together over before Bigby even has a moment to believe this is happening. But none of that matters now, not when Snow whispers his name and brings him back to the present. “Bigby, kiss me,” she mumbles, breathless as her body welcomes his onslaughts with ease.

Bigby angles her head to find her willing mouth but is surprised when Snow takes over, her hips meeting his thrusts, her tongue sliding deep inside his mouth to taste him. A strong arm hooks around his neck as she refuses the tamed pace he had set. Whatever fear he might have felt vanishes and his heart aches for her. He’ll love her no matter what happens, always has, and always will. They have nowhere to be except inside each other.

As her breath hitches and her kisses turn heady and frantic, Bigby speeds up his pace, letting her go as he bites and mumbles a blue streak of nothings against her skin. “My beautiful, Snow…”

The sound of his husky voice, the needy grip of his hands, and the relentless pace of his fucking send her over the edge once more. Bigby thrusts deeper every time, and buried inside her, she comes, her orgasm washing through her. Her body jerks in his embrace as waves of pleasure overtake her. Snow empties her lungs of air, holding onto him, her face buried in the crook of his neck, her legs writhing around his body. Bigby remains inside her, noting the sweet tightness of his climax, and the rippling of his cunt. He enjoys satisfying her pleasure until she’s a sore mess who can barely babble his name.

Still hard and willing inside her, Bigby places her gently on the mattress, swathing her with his whole body. He nuzzles at her neck, peppering kisses on sensitive skin. But succumbing to his own lust, his hips resume a gentle rocking inside and out of her.

“Let go, wolf,” Snow whispers wearily against his ear, “make me yours once and for all.”

Defeated by her words, Bigby topples over her, reaching down and under her body to grasp her buttocks. His bodyweight is a mixture in between overwhelming and utterly comforting. Snow yields to everything he demands, taking every single inch of his cock over and over. Spent as she is, she can’t part with him just yet.

Her last words have ignited something animalistic inside him, something he never thought she’d ask for. Bigby has wanted to own her for so long, to imbed his scent into her, mark her as his and his alone. At the mere thought, his cock hardens, and his balls ache for release. He sinks himself inside her between grunts of pleasure and the gentle encouragement of her body. Her fingernails scratch his back while her ankles bump against his lower back at the rhythm of his slams. He wants this to never end, and yet he knows he’ll take her again, and again, until Snow tires of him or he’s exhausted and spent.

“Yes, Bigby,” Snow encourages him, “please…” Her whispers make him pick up his pace, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I’ve dreamed of this, of you taking me just like this.” A moan escapes her when Bigby sinks himself balls-deep inside her.

“Snow,” he grunts.

She rolls her hips to meet his thrusts as if desperate to chase another elusive orgasm. Bigby pounds into her harder, deeper, stretching her walls with his thick cock. He tentatively opens his mouth and finds the pulse point on her neck, teasing his teeth on her immaculate skin. He hesitates, wanting to bite her as he comes inside her.

Snow bites him on the shoulder, realizing what he means to do, what he needs to let go and join her in the blissful aftereffects of their lovemaking. She sinks her teeth deeper on his tough skin, her fingernails sinking in his muscled back.

Bigby clenches his teeth around a mouthful of her neck, feeling her flesh giving in, and her soft whine of discomfort. He wishes to leave a mark there as well as inside her. With that treacherous thought driving him mad with pleasure, he finally comes, thrusting as deep as he can, and refusing to leave the comfort of her cunt just yet. He breathes hot and long as he spills thoroughly inside her.

It takes him a moment to come back to his senses, settling in her loving embrace and dreading to wake up from a wet dream. While his softening cock remains inside her, Bigby licks the indentations of his teeth, mumbling an apology that only she can hear. Snow chuckles, hugging him close to her body and kissing his temple.

“You’re everything I want, my wolf,” Snow says with a smile.

They kiss gently in contrast with their unrestrained lovemaking moments ago. His cock slips out of her eventually, followed by a pearlescent trail of his lust. She feels suddenly empty of him, but for the first time in years, not alone. Bigby suckles at her lower lip, grunting softly when Snow stretches an arm and rolls on her stomach to reach the bedside table, leaving him hungry for more. The lights are off and only the full moon bathes them with its silvery light.

But Bigby follows her suit, rolling on top of her. His warm, big hand travels down from her neck, the side of her breast, the gentle curve of her hips, and the fullness of her thighs. A path he’ll learn by heart and will trail at every chance he has. Snow curls her spine with a moan, finding a half-hard cock swelling against the back of her thighs. “Bigby?” she says tentatively.

“Yes, dear?” A wolfish grin bares his teeth as he trails the sinuous curve of her neck with greedy lips and lustful intentions. Before she can convince him otherwise, he’s already mouthing his way downward.

“What are you doing? I’m exhausted!” Snow complaints.

A husky chuckle is his answer, his teasing fingers finding the tender flesh between her legs, still slick with her arousal and his cum. His mouth trails down her lush butt as Snow exhales a defeated sigh.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, right princess?” Bigby says, smearing his lips on her skin before he takes a lush bite of the flesh on her butt.

When his fingertips stop teasing and invade her, her answer is a low moan. Seems like as long as the moon is high in the sky the wolf won’t let her rest. Not that she minds in the least to indulge a little longer in the caring attentions of Bigby Wolf.

Notes:

The next chapter is a short Epilogue to wrap things up <3

Chapter 6

Notes:

After the ending on Episode 5: Cry Wolf

After a night full of the wonders of their newly-found love, Bigby woke up alone in her ample bed. His blissfully exerted muscles and her sweet scent reminded him of what befell the night before. But the grin that accompanied him in those foggy moments after waking up faded little by little as the day wears on.

Snow was nowhere to be found, so Bigby left her apartment and realized they still need to figure some things out because last night they didn’t do a lot of talking. Then, he got coldly brushed off by Snow back at the Business Office. She seemed distant and worried as she disappeared inside her office followed suit by Bluebeard and Bufkin. To make it even worse, an obnoxious amount of paperwork was waiting for him in his tiny office and that occupied most of his day, which always puts him in a terrible mood. Every time someone showed up at his door he hoped it would be Snow only to be disappointed instead.

By the end of the day, he’s pissed and a wave of insecurities seep into his heart. Not only did Snow escape from their bed without waking him up, but she also had no time to spare when he had her undivided attention last night. The thought of her having regrets shrinks his heart. Things were coming back to normal in Fabletown, except they are not normal at all; not for them.

If it comes to it, Bigby doesn’t know how to go back to how things were before, and he dreads having to do so for Snow’s sake. Perhaps he’s been a fool and they jumped the gun way too soon. Is it really so impossible to believe that they can be together and make it work?

He arrives at his apartment in the evening, slumping on his couch with a deep sigh. He thrashes his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He’s acting like a big kid, and he knows, but the most important thing for him is her happiness. Her scent lingers in his body as the perfect reminder of last night. A faint smile conquers his lips. The memories alone make him weak on the knees. Bigby closes his eyes and inhales deeply for any trace of her.

Then his eyes spring wide open. “Snow,” he mumbles, walking toward the front door and cracking it open. All the worries in the world vanish in an instant.

“Bigby,” Snow smiles as his name fills her lips.

He’s been a big fool worrying about her.

“What a day, huh?” Bigby says with a wolfish grin.

Inviting herself in, Snow gives him a peck on the cheek. “I had a busy morning, and afternoon,” she complains. “Why do you look worried?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

Bigby rubs the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle coming out of his mouth. “We didn’t get a chance to talk after…” he clears his throat, “...last night.”

“Because you were sound asleep,” Snow teases, “I even kissed you good morning, but you wouldn’t wake up.” She enters the living room, taking off her jacket. Bigby sits back on the couch, watching her attentively. He toys with a packet of Huff n’ Puffs in his hand.

“Are you sure? I don’t remember any kiss,” Bigby asks, cocking his head to the side.

Snow prowls her way toward him, casually sitting on his lap as if she had been doing it her whole life. “Considering the night we had… you deserved the extra sleeping time,” she mumbles before she presses her lips against his.

The cold Snow that greeted him this morning at the office is nowhere to be found, but the fear of not being able to make her happy clouds his judgment. He links an arm around her waist, tucking her close to him a tad needily as if the gesture would fade those thoughts away.

“Spill it, Bigby,” Snow grumbles, biting his lower lip and making him flinch. “I can hear you thinking.”

A nervous chuckle comes out of him. “I don’t know how to do this,” he confesses.

“Truth is, neither do I,” Snow replies.

“Do you think we’ll figure it out? That I’m what you want?”

“That’s what got you all worried?” Snow says with a smile.

“Look at what I can offer you.” Bigby opens his arms wide as if his messy apartment was a reflection of his persona. Perhaps it is because he’s been tumbling around life long enough to admit to himself that he’s one flawed wolf. “I know you’ve had it rough, but if happily ever after didn’t work out for you the last time, how is it gonna work for us? I’m just a wolf.”

“Bigby,” concern seeps into her voice. “What are you trying to tell me?”

The sheriff takes a deep breath as if his actions hadn’t spoken louder than his words for years and years now. “I fucking love you, Snow,” Bigby says, his whiskey-colored eyes pleading.

Snow’s lips stretch on a sultry smile. “I love you too, Bigby, wolf and all.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you,” Bigby mumbles.

“You didn’t have to. It happened and I’m glad it did,” Snow says, cupping his face with a slender hand. “I saw it coming for a long time.”

“You could’ve briefed me in,” Bigby jests, but then he gets serious all over again. “Can I make you happy, Snow?”

“You already do,” she presses her forehead against his, sighing. “Let’s take it day by day, okay?”

“So this is real? No regrets?” Bigby holds her tighter, their noses brushing gently as the evening light leaves them in semidarkness.

“Yes, you silly wolf,” Snow teases. “Or do you need convincing? Because I seemed to have succeeded last night and then you forgot all of it in the morning.”

Bigby stands as he lifts her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Her arms cling to his neck as she relishes in the safety of his embrace. With a wolfish grin, he paces his way toward the bed. “Where are we going?” Snow asks, narrowing her eyes, a withheld smile on her lips.

“Bed,” Bigby says as she stifles a laugh on his neck. “I think I’m gonna need daily reminders, morning reminders, evening reminders... hourly reminders!”

“Bigby!” Snow laughs as he lays her down on the mattress, draping on top of her. “You can’t possibly have that much stamina,” Snow teases.

“Oh, Snow,” Bigby chuckles, “but I do, and I’ve been waiting for you all my life.” He kisses her deeply, forgetting the doubts, the insecurities, and the worries about the past or the future. If there’s a happily ever after for them, he’ll fight for it with all he’s got, and he’s no one but the Big Bad Wolf who after a life of death and sin, finally found true love.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! (*ꈍ꒳ꈍ*)
I sure had a blast writing this, and I hope my brain will bless me with more Bigby/Snow stories in the future.

See y'all soon! ~ヾ(＾∇＾)

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading ╭( ･ㅂ･)و ̑̑ ˂ᵒ͜͡ᵏᵎ⁾✩