Summary: Celebrating a very Happy Halloween with your loving Blutbad boyfriend.
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“Monroe-?”
You awoke early to the sounds of shuffling downstairs, making your way down to see that his decorating frenzy for Halloween multiplied over night, there's spider webs and ghouls and goblins everywhere, you nearly trip on a pumpkin on your way down… All the while he's grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, sticking an adorable ghost shaped mug in your hand full of your favorite breakfast beverage.
“It's amazing, right? I found some more things in storage. Did you know that this decoration is close to 100 years old-”
As usual he goes off on a rambling spree as you watch him with loving eyes, giving you a free history lesson on all the decor within your shared living space, your soft smile lighting up his world like it always does. Little does he know the effect his endless enthusiasm has on you, cutting him off with a kiss, trailing your hand up his chest as you set your mug aside. He was surprised at first but quickly melts into it, pulling you into his arms, kiss breaking after only a moment.
“I love it… And I want to know all about it - later. Right now I want you.”
You certainly caught him off guard as it takes him a second to process, once he does though he's swiftly scooping you up off your feet and toting you upstairs, more than glad to feed the beast you woke up with this morning.
“If I knew it'd have this effect on you I would've brought out all my old history books.”
He teased slightly as he plopped you onto the bed, though you're well aware he's not actually kidding - he would in fact break out history books for foreplay if you were into it. Stripping one another of your clothes he climbs atop you, settling between your thighs and kissing down your neck, beard rubbing pleasantly at your skin in the process. In the heat of the moment he woges, lips meet yours and body shifting to slip inside you, pushing in carefully so you adjust - setting a nice and steady pace, a low little growl leaving him. He howls when you grab at his hair, feeling feral again for a brief moment as his hands dig into the bedding, picking up the pace just a bit. He rocks the whole bed as he makes love to you like an - for lack of a better word - animal, forehead meeting yours while buried deep. He goes until you both come undone, woge wearing off as he slowly slides out of you, flopping down at your side - sweaty and breathing heavy.
“Wow…”
“Just wow?”
“No such thing as ‘just wow’.”
He leans over and kisses your cheek before dragging himself out of bed, intent on running a bath so you two can get cleaned up for the day ahead.
“How about some pumpkin shaped pancakes this morning?”
He smiles over his shoulder at you, knowing your love of cutely shaped things, happy to see you light up.
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Relationship: Monroe x Reader; Nick Burkhardt x Sister!Reader
Fandom: Grimm
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff, Brief Mention of Dead Parents
Word Count: 1,760
Main Masterlist: Here
Grimm Masterlist: Here
Summary: When his single baby sister, affectionately nicknamed Lady, comes to visit from the other side of the country, Nick finds himself dealing with yet another secret to keep.
Consider A Donation: Here
Nick was running about the house, trying to get it all fixed up in time. He had spent the better part of the day and a half that he had off from work cleaning the house, making sure that the guests room was ready for her arrival. As soon as the last pillow was tossed onto the bed, he checked his phone; three hours till her plane landed. Three hours till his baby sister was with him for two whole weeks.
When the youngest Burkhardt had told her big brother that she wanted to come visit him in Seattle, he jumped for joy. With her away in New York studying to become a teacher, and him as a detective in Portland, on the other side of the country; the siblings did not have much opportunity to chat or see each other. But that was changing in just a few short hours.
Standing around the airport with a little sign that he had thrown together, Nick was, weirdly, a little nervous to see his sister. So much had happened since they had seen each other last. Namely, becoming a Grimm. Would she have the same… abilities? That did not feel like the right word, but it was the closest her could find in his vocabulary.
“Kickey!” That was definitely her. Nick found his sister, carrying a suitcase that looked like it might be able to fit him inside, he happily ran up, and wrapped her in a bear hug.
“Hey, Lady. How was the flight?” Nick rested his cheek on top of her head.
“Okay. I slept through most of it.” Her words were muffled by Nick’s jacket covering his chest, where her face had planted itself.
Pulling apart, he happily wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her out. Their drive to Nick’s house was filled with soft chatter; the two siblings enjoying the ability to catch up and be near each other for the first time in a long while. Nick refused to let her pick up her suitcase when they finally made it out of the car, lugging the thing up the stairs while she trailed after him trying to take it back.
“Would you stop? I swear, most stubborn woman I know.” Nick chuckled, unlocking the front door of the house while shaking his head.
“It’s my suitcase, Kick. You’re already doing a lot for me,” came her protest, though she just ended up sighing. This was how he always was since they were children.
“Yeah. Well, you’re my baby sister, and I’m going to continue to treat you as such.” He finally managed to get the door open, bringing her, and her suitcase in. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
“Oh this place is gorgeous, Kickey.” She took a moment to just look around the room as her brother shut the door behind them. It was so cozy, so homey. Definitely something that she could see her brother living in. As she looked around, she noticed little things; books left out, monstrous drawings, and an open journal with multiple different handwritings.
As if realizing that his sister was looking at specific items, Nick hurried to tuck them away. The journal was shut. The drawings stuffed into the book, which was then turned face down.
“Sorry about the mess,” he started quickly, chuckling nervously.
“It’s alright. You working on a novel or something,” she asked.
Nick paused, turned to face his sister with his hands on his hips, and a deer in headlights expression. He clapped his hands and pointed, “yes.”
She arched an eyebrow at his reaction but brushed it off. “Okay…”
“You want something to eat?” He shot out quickly, heading to the kitchen.
“Yeah, I’m starved.”
“I got stuff for pasta if you’re in the mood.”
“Perfect.”
Dinner in the Burkhardt home was wonderful. The siblings talked and talked about anything and nothing. They cooked together; Nick laughing genuinely as his sister flung dry pasta at his head. He retaliated by smudging a bit of sauce on her cheek.
“You know, mom would hate to know that we’re still having food fights this late into our twenties.” She giggled as she helped dish out the meal.
“I think she’d just be happy that we’re together,” came his reply, squeezing her shoulders in a side hug as he passed to go to the dining table.
Their conversation flowed naturally through dinner. Talk of her studies, his cases; redacted of course. When the conversation shifted, Nick got a small smirk on his lips. “So, anyone I should be giving the big brother talk to in New York?”
His sister barked out a laugh. “Ha! As if. No one wants to touch me with a ten foot pole. I guess it’s just an energy I give off.”
Nick’s smirk shifted to a sympathetic grin. Reaching across the table, he held her wrist in his hands, and gave a gentle squeeze. “You’ll find someone, Lady.”
When they had made it to the couch, a beer in his hand and a glass of wine in hers, continuing to catch up about all they had missed, that was when a knock came to the door. Not a normal knock. Something frantic.
“You expecting someone?” She asked, as Nick furrowed his brows while setting down his drink.
“Just stay there.” He got up, hesitantly peering through the peephole. However, Nick’s shoulders drop as he sighs, opening up the door. “Hey, man. What are you doing he—?”
“Nick, thank goodness,” Monroe shoved himself inside, talking rapidly as he watched the door close. “Okay, so I know you were saying that I shouldn’t be concerned, but I can’t help it. How can I not though? And I think that other blutbad is onto me which means that you’re going to owe me big time if I get ostracized—”
“Monroe!” Nick shouts, as the man was completely ignorant to his friend’s attempts to subtly make him stop. He stopped, eyes wide as he watched Nick cut his eyes to someone that Monroe failed to notice.
The female Burkhardt stared at the new man in the house, waving with a shy grin, and she lets out a soft, “hey.”
“Hi,” he replied like a deer in headlights. Turning around to face his friend, Monroe looked confused as he pointed. “Who is this?”
“This is my little sister. She’s visiting from New York.” He said awkwardly, adding her name at the end. “Lady, this is a— uh— friend of mine, Monroe.”
She got up first, holding out her hand as she made her way over to them. “It’s nice to meet you, Monroe. Nice to know that my brother has friends here instead of staying cooped up at his desk all day.”
Monroe floundered a bit as he stared at the woman. She had the same eyes, same straight brown hair as Nick, but she looked like a goddess in his eyes. He scrambled to shake her hand, only after her brother hit his shoulder. Her hand was so tiny and soft compared to his own. “It’s… it’s nice to meet you too. Nick hasn’t said much about his family, but he only speaks of good things about you.”
There was a beat of awkward silence, where the their hands still touched, their eyes still locked, and uneasy smiles were on everyone’s faces.
“Okay,” Nick shot out, clapping Monroe on the shoulder again. “Hey, why don’t you head upstairs to your room? I imagine you want to sleep after the long day you’ve had traveling.”
His sister nodded, finally shaking herself out of the trance she found herself in. “Sounds good, Kickey. Hope to see you around, Monroe. Goodnight boys.”
She pulled her hands from Monroe’s, who still was just staring at her. A quick hug, and Nick pressing a kiss to her hair later, and his little sister went up the stairs to her room for the evening.
As soon as the door closed, Nick turned on his friend. “What the hell was that?”
Monroe was startled, like a deer in headlights. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s my sister, dude. My little sister. Stop staring like that.” Nick shot back in a hushed tone, trying to keep the woman from hearing them despite her absence. He went over and collected his beer and her wine which had now gone warm, and dumped them out in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Monroe was following him aorund like a lost puppy.
“Isn’t she also like you?” He asked, watching Burkhardt lean against the counter.
“Like me,” Nick questioned.
“You know,” Monroe made vague hand gestures to his friend. “A Grimm?”
Nick sighed, long and deep. His arms crossed over his chest, looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole. “No, she doesn’t. And unless she presents the way that I did, I don’t want her knowing about this— this— she can’t know, Monroe. The further away from our world she is, the better.”
Monroe’s face scrunched up. He obviously did not agree with keeping the sister of a Grimm in the dark. Even if she did not inherit the trait, she was still in danger. The family of a Grimm was just as good in the eyes of lots of wesen. He also knew that meant he needed to stay away from her as much as possible too, which he really did not want to do.
“And no dating her either,” came Nick’s sudden declaration. That made the blutbad shoot up his head like he had been electrocuted. He began stammering as Nick stared him down. “I’m serious. I see that look in your eyes and I’m putting my foot down on this. You cannot date her. Besides, she’s going back to New York to be a teacher. She’s not staying.”
Monroe tried finding words, but none came to his tongue. He was truly, genuinely, frightfully speechless. So he settled on a simple nod of his head as he averted his gaze to the floor while shoving his hands into his jeans pockets as deep as they would go.
Nick let another beat of silence follow before clearing the air. “So what is it that you needed to talk to me about?”
And just like that, the two men sat down in the living room talking about their latest case, both pretending like everything was normal. Monroe pretended that he was not glancing up the stairs every three seconds hoping for one more glimpse of Ms. Burkhardt. And Nick was pretending to not notice Monroe doing so.
Warnings: Canon-compliant mentions of violence/death, drinking, set in season 1, Monroe deserves better
Your attention was ripped from your book as a frantic, heavy knocking filled the living room. Someone was banging against the front door, sounding desperate to get in. You weren’t sure anyone in this area really knew Monroe enough to need his help personally, so it must have been a true emergency.
You set your book aside, using a loose scrap of paper as a bookmark, and hurried to the door. You yanked it open, ready to usher in a woman scared out of her mind, or a child crying, or a man bloodied and bruised. Instead, you saw a woman with rich red hair and a black leather outfit standing on the porch. Her eyes flashed hotly at you and she looked you up and down. It was less like she was surveying the competition, and more like she was eyeing up a meal.
“Who are you?” she barked, which surprised you. Shouldn’t you be the one asking that question? You were, after all, the one who lived here.
“Who are you?” you shot back. “Why are you trying to break down my door?”
“Your door?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe this house belongs to Monroe.”
“How do you know Monroe?”
Her lips twisted into an annoyed smirk. “How do you know Monroe?”
“Babe?” came Monroe’s voice from down the hall. He came shuffling into the living room, using a towel to dry his hair. He was dressed in his bathrobe and looked like he was ready to take a nap, which he probably was. Both of you enjoyed a midafternoon nap together. “Who is it?”
You turned and stared at him, and you could feel the mystery woman’s eyes looking past you at your boyfriend. He looked at you expectantly, and you saw his eyes slowly move over your shoulder to the woman at the door. His expression twisted into a mix of shock and horror.
“Oh crap.”
“Hi, babe,” the woman sneered. “Long time, no see.”
“Angelina, what are you doing here?”
“I came by to see you, Monroe. You know that.” Her voice was low and seductive. It made your skin crawl.
You turned on your heels and set your jaw in anger. “Monroe–”
He hurried to you, placing one hand on your shoulder. “I’ll explain later. Just … give me a few minutes, okay?”
You turned a sharp look back at Angelina, who tauntingly wiggled her fingers in a goodbye wave at you. “You better have a good explanation for this.”
“I promise, I do. Just hang out in the bedroom for a while, okay?”
You snatched your book off the couch and felt your entire body burn with envy as Monroe approached the front door. The last thing you heard before you locked yourself in the bedroom was Angelina asking, “Can’t I come in and sit down? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
Perhaps it was childish to be seething in the bedroom, contemplating locking the door to keep Monroe out (whenever he decided to show up and give his explanation, that is), but you couldn’t help it. You didn’t know Angelina, but you knew what she was. Blutbad. Just like Monroe. You could just sense it.
Although you were neither Grimm nor Wesen, you could sense when someone was. You hadn’t met any Grimms other than Nick, but you’d encountered a lot of Wesen. You never could see their true forms, but there was always something about them. You didn’t know if it was a pheromone, or just a way they held themselves. To you, they always felt different.
That was partially what attracted you to Monroe in the first place. He was pretty quiet and reserved, and he wasn’t like most of the other men his age in the area. He kept to himself and never seemed all that interested in hooking up with people he met at the bars, unlike your friends. While your friends would disappear with their boyfriends, or the guys they’d met that night, you were often the one left behind. Or, usually, you were the designated driver. It was during one of these nights when all of your friends had dispersed into the night with men on their arms, that you finally got up the courage to talk to Monroe. He’d been sitting at the bar alone, steadily drinking his beer. You’d seen him plenty of times, and you thought he’d seen you, too, but you couldn’t be sure. That night, though, you were going to make sure he noticed you.
It felt like it was ages ago that you’d said your first words to him. As soon as you sat next to him at the bar, you could sense something about him. You’d chalked it up to the atmosphere of the bar, the smell of liquor, but after you’d gotten his information and met him for a proper date the next day, you knew it was something else. It took a while before you discovered he was a Blutbad, and his friend Nick was a Grimm. They were worried their world would seem strange and frightening to you, but it wasn’t. You’d grown up on fairytales and had watched monster movies at every slumber party you’d ever attended. It almost felt like the universe was preparing you for this, for Monroe.
Monroe kept such a low profile and rarely associated with other Wesen, that you knew right away something was wrong with Angelina. Aside from giving off the vibe of being a Blutbad, she just screamed bad news. It was killing you to wait in the bedroom while Monroe and Angelina talked, but what else could you do? As much as you wanted to hear everything they were saying, you trusted and respected Monroe. If he asked you to wait here, that’s what you were going to do.
You were almost thankful that it took a while for Monroe to come back to the bedroom. It’d given you enough time to cool down and work through your anger. He knocked gently on the door before cracking it open, peering in. He looked almost sheepish, like he was worried you were going to throw something at him or curse him out. If he’d come in ten minutes earlier, you might have.
“Babe?”
“You can come in,” you said firmly but not unkindly.
Monroe sighed in relief and swung the door open. He sat on the bed beside you but kept his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“That you had to meet her. And meet her … that way.”
“Who was she?”
Monroe took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping. “She’s my ex-girlfriend. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
You’d never heard Monroe talking about ex-girlfriends before. You didn’t know he’d even dated before. It stung a little, knowing there were parts of his life that he hadn’t shared with you, parts that he had kept secret. You knew he had the right to keep parts of his life locked away, but you thought your relationship was good enough that he didn’t feel he had to.
“What did she want?”
Monroe let out a bitter laugh and muttered, “Me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean … she wanted to get back together with me.”
You swallowed hard, anxiously picking at the cuticle on your thumb. “What did you say?”
Monroe looked at you in disbelief. “What do you think I said? I told her no, that I’m with you.”
“And that took almost twenty minutes to say?”
Monroe studied your face for a long moment, his eyes almost unreadable. He scrubbed his face with his large palm and groaned. “Okay, she … she wanted a lot more than that.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Maybe not, but you have the right to know. She wanted …” Monroe took another heavy breath, but he couldn’t look at you anymore. He turned his eyes down to his hands, staring at his calloused palms. “She wanted me back, and not just as her boyfriend. She wanted me to embrace being a Blutbad. She wanted … She wanted me to fang out again. To go on the hunt. To kill.”
Your heart twisted in your chest. You wanted to reach out and grab Monroe’s hand to comfort him, to let him know you were there, but you weren’t sure if that’s what he needed. Monroe had given up that life long before he ever met you, but you often wondered if you had any influence in his choice to stay “sober,” as he called it. He wasn’t abstaining from his instincts simply because he was afraid you’d discover what he truly was, because you already knew what he was. Did he keep from running in the woods and killing animals – people – other Wesen – because he didn’t want to disappoint you? Or did he feel like you were holding him back?
You finally decided to reach out and grab his hand. You laced your fingers with his and squeezed tight. “Why would she want that?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess because she thinks I’m easier to convince? Because I’m the only Blutbad around that doesn’t have her on my hitlist? She could just be screwing with me, just seeing if she can undo all my progress. I never was able to figure out what goes on in that head of hers.”
You steadied yourself before asking the question that was beginning to burn a hole in your chest. “Monroe … what do you want?”
He looked at you, eyebrows knit together in confusion.
“I mean … do you want to keep living like this? Abstaining from the hunt? Or do you want to join her? Do you want to act like a Blutbad again?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Because, I need to know where your mind’s at, where your heart’s at. If you want to … to join her, to go out and kill, then … then you should do that. I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want to make you into something you’re not.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not a Wesen, Monroe. I’m not even a Grimm. I’m nothing. I just … I don’t know what I am. I can sense when people are different, but I can’t do anything with that information. And I can never be like you. I can never fang out or go hunting or … or kill. I’ll never be able to relate to you the way Angelina can. I can only love you like a human could, and I don’t know if that’s enough.”
Monroe silently reached out with his free hand and brushed tears off of your cheeks. He cupped your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up until you were staring into his eyes. His eyes were filled with unshed tears and his voice wavered when he spoke.
“Don’t you ever say that about yourself again, do you understand? I don’t want to hear you talk bad about yourself – ever. You’re not nothing. You’re everything. Okay? I don’t want to go hunting or to kill things. I don’t! I mean, no offense, but I didn’t stop doing those things for you, you know? I stopped before I even met you. But it feels like meeting you was the reward I got for stopping that part of myself.”
“Monroe–”
“No, just listen to me. It’s true, Angelina may get me on a level that you never can, because she and I are Blutbaden, but … Angelina only knows the old me. She doesn’t know the me that you know. And I don’t want her to, because I don’t want her in my life anymore. She doesn’t want what’s best for me. Even when we were together, it always felt like her goal was to try to get me killed. I … I couldn’t live like that. And I told her that when she was here. I told her that the Monroe she was looking for didn’t exist anymore, and that she wasn’t welcome back here.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. Or else she’d keep coming back and keep coming back until I gave in or …” He shook his head. “I don’t want to think about it. But just know that I’m done with that part of my life. Some days, I’ll admit, it’s hard to fight it. It’s hard to not join the others and act on my instincts, but … I think about what I’d be giving up, what I’d lose. My progress, my dignity, you.” Monroe leaned forward and placed a firm kiss on your lips. “I’m not going to lose you.”
You pulled your hand free from his and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard. He grabbed your waist and helped you slide onto his lap. Your tears peppered his cheeks as you kissed him all over his face, your laughter mixed with soft cries.
“I love you, Monroe. I promise that you’re never going to lose me.”
“I promise you’re not going to lose me. I love you, too, babe.” He planted his hands on your hips and kept you on his lap. “You ready for a nap now? I know crying takes a lot out of you.”
You shook your head. “Not yet.”
“No? Oh.” Monroe laughed and kissed you deeply again. “We need to do our make up ritual, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
Monroe grinned and hoisted you up, turning around to toss you onto the bed. He climbed on top of you and planted kisses all along your neck and face. “I promise to make it up to you, over and over and over again. As many times as it takes. And then some.”
☆ it's a little confused all the time but he gets the spirit !!! unconditionally supportive of everything even if he makes casual banter and jokes abt it
☆ tries to cook for you whenever he has the chance after work, it rarely works out though because he can't cook 💔 but it's the thought that counts
☆ lets you wear his leather jacket all the time, he complains abt not having it at work when it's cold but he'd rather him be cold instead of you being cold when he could've prevented it
☆ takes you to the trailer surprisingly often, it becomes sort of a safe haven for him as only him, monroe, and you know abt it. he likes rereading the books while you find new hidey holes
monroe:
☆ your own personal heater fr ‼️ blutbaden run on a higher temp than the avg human so he's always warm and toasty even when it's cold out
☆ he loves giving gifts, he's always fixing up antique and vintage clocks that remind him of you (which happens to be a lot of the clocks). he even makes a couple of pocket watches for you to always have w your person
☆ can actually cook, granted it's vegetarian and even sometimes vegan but it's the good vegan food. he's always looking to try new recipes from pinterest bc he's an avid pinterest user
☆ plays the cello when you're having trouble sleeping, he's always happy and eager to help so he ends up having the cello by the bed along with sheet music of lullabies
sean renard:
☆ SUGAR DADDY TO THE MAX 🗣‼️‼️ he's always buying and spoiling you w random shit that you glanced at while walking around. even gives you a credit card that is automatically paid for
☆ doesn't necessarily talk or name-drop you to any of his family or the precinct, but it is well known (at least to the precinct) that he's taken
☆ has people waiting on you hand and foot, you basically get the royalty treatment without the fame and danger of it. he still does heavy background and monitors the people though without them knowing
☆ only allows himself to relax around you, while it's not fully relaxed it's as relaxed as renard can be. he lets you hold him occasionally but mostly it's him holding you to his chest protectively
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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A Willahara was passive by nature, commonly had large families, and kept to themselves. They weren't the strongest Wesen and were commonly hunted for their feet. Your mother had told you about the murders in the community and your family was preparing to flee the area to avoid a similar fate.
You were at home packing with your mother while your father and brother brought the moving truck to the house. Your mother was downstairs when Nick, Hank, and Monroe knocked on the door asking questions. You heard her shriek and rushed downstairs to find Nick trying to reassure her he meant no harm while Monroe told him about your species. Your mother woged and you panicked when she named Monroe a Blutbad.
You eyed the trio warily, your eyes focusing on Monroe who held his hands up. "I won't hurt you."
"He's with me," Nick added.
"I don't think that's helping," Hank commented.
"We're investigating two murders. We were told you knew the victims." Nick said.
Your mother nodded, changing back to her human form. "We've been neighbors for over twenty years. Our children grew up together."
Nick nodded, pleased she was beginning to talk to him. "Can we come in to ask a few questions?"
You glanced at your mother when she slowly nodded. As she led the trio to the living room, she whispered for you to call your brother to keep away for a while.
You set up a tea tray and carried it to the living room, setting it on the coffee table. You sat on the floor, asking the trio how they liked their tea, handing a cup and saucer afterward. As you handed Monroe a teacup and saucer, you swallowed as you met his gaze, and he could smell your fear and apprehension. A Willahara was known for being easily spooked, but he still felt like he was imposing, sending you a small grateful smile that he hoped made him look less intimidating.
"Thank you."
You sent him a nod, "You're welcome."
You were drawn into the conversation your mother was having with Hank and Nick when she asked, "You spoke to him that day, didn't you Y/N?"
You nodded, "He told me he was going to run some errands." Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought about your conversation.
"What?" Nick and Monroe asked at the same time.
You looked at the Grimm, then at the Blutbad who leaned his elbows on his knees. "He told me to be careful. There were a lot of new faces around. He looked a little shaken. I didn't think much of it at the time."
Your mother frowned, "What new faces did he see?"
"He didn't say." You replied.
Your mother's frown deepened.
"He was a Willahara?" Monroe spoke up, drawing your gaze again.
You nodded, "They both were. It's a small community here."
"It's nice." He complimented, looking around the living room, and sending you a smile.
You slowly returned the smile. "You are the strangest man I have ever met." You said with a shake of your head. To someone else that may have been regarded as an insult, however in this case Monroe knew it was the biggest compliment he could receive.
Monroe sensed your fear fading the longer they stayed while your mother remained wary. You walked the trio to the door and held it open as they stepped out.
"Thank you for the tea." He turned, flashing a smile that grew when you mirrored it.
"You're welcome."
You saw the trio the next day. You were leaving work when you felt eyes watching you. The feeling made you rush to your car and you gasped when you heard a growl. You ran down the street, your bag falling off your shoulder and you gripped it tightly as you fled, hearing heavy footsteps following. You reached your car and unlocked the door, a shriek leaving your lips when you were grabbed and held against the window.
You stared in horror at the Leporem Venator. You had heard stories and your father had shown you a book containing a drawing of the Wesen. It had scared you as a child, and now you were face to face with one.
You screamed, trying to break free, and he tossed you to the ground. You whimpered, backing away as he walked towards you, raising his axe.
A growl sounded through the air before he was tackled to the ground and your eyes widened when you saw Monroe, and the sight of his Blutbad form made your heart race. His eyes met yours as he fought against the rabbit hunter. "Run!"
You scrambled to your feet and looked at him before running away. You were close to home, running through the woods, taking a shortcut when you heard a gunshot. Moments later the Leporem Venator appeared, chasing after you, and you screamed as you forced yourself to run faster, concerned for Monroe.
"Hey!" You woge as you ran, straining your ears and recognizing Nick's voice.
You ducked when the Leporem Venator threw his axe, narrowly missing you and lodging itself into a tree trunk. You saw Monroe running towards you, blood on his shirt.
You darted aside as the two fought, Nick and Hank quickly helping Monroe fend off the Leporem Venator, their guns knocked aside. You gasped when Hank was pinned, the handle of the axe cutting off his airways, and looked around, finding a large tree branch. You hit the rabbit hunter on the back, drawing his attention and his eyes narrowed as he approached you.
Monroe tackled him before he could reach you and when Nick reached his gun, he fired three shots, the bullets creating a triangle shape on his shirt before he fell.
You shifted back to your human form, wide-eyed as the life left the hunter's eyes. You went to Monroe who had shifted back to his human form, helping him stand.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded, "I'll be fine. Nicely done by the way." He mimicked the way you hit the rabbit hunter with the tree branch and you smiled. He mirrored the smile.
"Thank you." You looked at Hank and Nick, "All of you."
While the two detectives stayed with the body of a now-human Nigel, Monroe walked with you through the woods, and when you arrived home, you invited him inside, offering to take care of the cut he had gained fighting the hunter.
You sat on the coffee table while he sat on the sofa, cleaning the wound. "I have heard stories of Blutbad all my life." You began, turning your head to pick up the bandage, meeting his gaze when you turned around again. "You are not what I expected."
"I'll consider that a compliment."
"You should." You smiled softly, wrapping the bandage around his arm. "That should hold."
"Thank you."
You closed the first aid kit, and when you met his gaze, you felt something shift in the air between you. You had to be a good judge of character when you were a Willahara, and Monroe proved to be a kind person, good-looking, but he was a Blutbad. And today was proof he could pose a threat, but you weren't afraid even if everything you were taught told you, you should be.
Weeks went by, and you became a new fountain of knowledge, granting access to your family's diaries and books that documented facts about Wesen in great detail. As a Willahara it was important to know everything about your enemies - anyone who would cause you harm.
During this time you and Monroe grew closer. Your feelings for the Blutbad were conflicting. Your family was already wary of you befriending a Grimm and if they found out you were falling for a Blutbad you were sure they would freak out, but you knew there was nothing to fear when it came to Monroe. He proved time and time again that he could be trusted and he became a great friend, but lately, you felt the potential to be something more.
It wasn't common for you to join the two in searching for a Wesen, but today, you did, and you were glad Nick had spent so long teaching you how to shoot. You pushed the Wesen off of you, groaning from the claw marks on your shoulder, looking at the clouds in the sky before the view was blocked by Monroe.
"Are you okay? Whoa, you are so not okay!"
"We need to get her to a hospital," Nick spoke up.
"Okay! Okay! Don't panic. Nobody panic!"
He picked you up and you groaned from the movement of your arm. "Sorry." You rested your head on his shoulder as he walked and placed your uninjured arm around his shoulders. "No more hunting Wesen for you."
"I'm okay with that." You agreed.
"Good shot though."
You lift your head to meet his gaze, sharing a smile before you giggle. "It was, wasn't it?"
Monroe stayed with you while Nick took the Wesen into custody, arranging for the police doctor to patch him up. Your shoulder was bandaged up and you were relieved to know you were going home. You met Monroe in the hallway where he had been waiting, and he looked relieved to see you.
"Have you been out here all this time?"
"Of course. A you-know-what nearly took your arm off." He replied.
You sent him a small smile, "I was given the all-clear to go home."
He sighed, "That's good. I'll drive...if-if you want me to?"
You nodded, "Thank you."
He smiled as you walked out toward the elevator. You went to his car and he drove you home, quieter than usual. It had been a long day, filled with fear and adrenaline, but it was quickly wearing off.
"You've been quiet ever since we left the hospital. Is everything okay?" You turned to him when he walked you to your door.
"Do you want to have dinner with me? As a date?" He asked. You were stunned as he quickly added, "There's a certain ladder in the Wesen community. Lines drawn in the sand. Predator vs prey. But that doesn't matter to me. It hasn't been for a while..." He sighed, "I guess what I'm trying to say is -"
You knew exactly what he was trying to say. In the Wesen community, it was rare for different species to mix, especially something as feared as a Blutbad and an easily intimidated Willahara, and the news would spread fast. There would be some isolation, cutting remarks but you knew you could face it. And it would be worth it.
"I'd love to."
"Really?" You nodded with a smile. "How about this weekend? I'll pick you up around six thirty?"
"Okay." You smiled brightly, and he returned it. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, your smile never faltering as you pulled away. "Goodnight."
"Night."
You entered the house, closing the door, your smile turning into a wide grin. You knew there would be a lot of confusion and discrimination from the Wesen community - more so given that you were friends with a Grimm. But you didn't care. You had a date this weekend and for the next three days, it was all you could think about.
The ringing woke you up from a rather pleasant dream, and you slapped your hand on your phone in an attempt to bring it closer to you. It slips off your bedside table, and the crash is what officially wakes you up. You squint at the call screen and answer it.
“This had better be good, Monroe.” You say sleepily, rubbing at your eyes as you disconnect your phone from its charger and roll over in bed.
It’s silent except for a sniffle.
That was your first clue that something was terribly wrong.
You are alert in an instant.
“Roe? What’s wrong?” You say and sit up in bed. It was too early for him to be awake. Weren’t you just nagging him that he needed all the sleep he could get before the triplets came?
“She’s gone.” He whimpers over the phone, and you feel your heart stop.
There was a multitude of people that could mean. But if he was this distressed…
“Monroe, what happened.” You cradle the phone between your shoulder and ear as you rifle through your closet for clothes and shoes. You end up just putting on yesterday’s clothes, and by the time you are on your way out to the car, Monroe has dissolved into tears. He’s making incoherent sounds, and all you can gather are the words “labor,” “complications,” and “bleeding.”
None of which sound good.
Eventually, you get out of him where he is and speed all the way to Providence Portland Medical Center. Literally, your foot is pedal to the metal the entire way, and you’re pretty sure you run at least half a dozen stoplights.
But it was three-thirty AM on a Tuesday. You weren’t too worried about hitting anyone. All that mattered was getting to Monroe. Somewhere along the way, he hangs up.
You do a horrible job at parking and all but run inside, barking out Monroe and Rosalee’s name to the receptionist at the desk. She hurriedly gives you a room number, and you’re sprinting up the stairs, taking two at a time in your haste to get to the room.
Nick is in the hallway outside and spots you before you spot him. He is about as half-dressed as you and looks just as stressed. He runs a hand through his hair and meets you halfway down the hall.
“What… happened...” You huff, hands on your knees, as you try to catch your breath.
“It isn’t good—” He gets cut off by the hospital door opening, and Monroe steps out.
He looks awful… Dark bags under his red-rimmed and puffy eyes, shirt rumpled, and you spy dried blood on his hands from where he had been supposedly clenching his fists. He sees you, and you’re all but yanked off your feet and into a hug as he dissolves into tears again. He’s taller than you, but he seems oh so small as he clings tightly to your shoulders. Wrapping your arms around his broad back, you rub up and down as you try to help calm your best friend.
Now isn’t the time for answers.
But you get them anyway as a body covered in a white sheet is rolled out of the hospital room and down the opposite hallway.
Oh no…
“Did Rosalee—”
“She went into labor late last night. She didn’t make it.” He says, and you hate how his voice sounds. It sounds torn, as if all the emotion in the world is poured into his words. He had always been an emotional man. It was something you admired about him. The fact that he could wear his heart on his sleeve.
Now wasn’t the time for reminiscing.
You whisper what you hope are words of encouragement in his ear as he cries. Nick steps away to make some phone calls, probably to Adalind or Hank. Monroe stands there, hugging you so tightly it almost hurts, for what seems like hours, but in reality is likely only minutes.
Eventually, the doctor comes out of a room down the hall and approaches you all.
“Mr. Monroe?” He says gently, and Monroe jumps in your arms before pulling away to face the man.
“Yes?” He says, voice cracking in the middle.
“Would you like to see the triplets?” He asked, and Monroe paused before wiping his nose on a handkerchief and nodding. His hand clutches yours, and you can’t bring yourself to make him let go. So you follow. There was only so much you could do in this situation other than just be there for him.
Given it’s so early in the morning, the neonatal unit is quiet. There’s the odd sound of a baby crying, but overall, most of them are sleeping. You squeeze Monroe’s hand, and he squeezes back as the doctor instructs you to wait outside and look in through the glass as he shows you Monroe’s children.
They’re tiny, pink little things swaddled in white blankets. Two pink hats, one blue hat. Two girls and a boy?
They were precious.
“What are their names?” You ask softly, and Monroe jumps, fingers tensing where they had been resting against the glass. His eyes had been locked on the three little cribs that held what was left of his wife. You were delighted to see the beginnings of a smile on his lips.
“We—we decided on George for the boy. After her dad.” He said, and you smile, they were ever the nostalgic couple.
“And the two girls?”
“Marie, after Nick’s Aunt Marie. We felt it was appropriate, given what Nick has done for us. And Winifred after Freddy. Rosalee said—” He scrubbed a hand down his face with his free one, “Rosalee said she always liked the name.”
You squeeze his hand again and lean your head on his shoulder.
“They’re wonderful names. You guys did a good job.” You say, and he barks out a harsh laugh.
“I did barely anything. Rosalee was—”
“Don’t do that to yourself.” You say gently and pull him into another hug. He gets snot on your sweater, but that’s the least of your worries.
“You are going to be a wonderful dad. You already did so much for Rosalee while she was pregnant. Playing the cello at odd hours of the night when she couldn’t sleep? The absolute batshit crazy food runs she’d send you on? The—”
“Alright, alright, I get it!” He says, chuckling an actual happy laugh this time. Well… as happy as he could be at this point in time. He holds you close, and you rock him back and forth as the babies begin to wake up and cry for their mother.
