You awoke quietly to the feeling of being the perfect temperature. You know the one, the one where you're completely and utterly happy to lay in bed for another hour and doze. You snuggle into your comfortable nest more to discover a nice, firm body pressed against your back. You remember about last night, how you fell asleep together after he asked you to stay. Your heart warms at the thought.
Then, you notice something else about Grillby's body, something hard. Instantly you feel yourself becoming wet at the prospects of this new piece of information. Grillby has a cock. You almost moan at the revelation, but what dignity would you have?
You feel Grillby start to stir. You bit your lip, his motions making his cock rub against your ass. You fought the urge to buck into him. He stiffens.
"...Sorry…" He says, and starts to pull away. You stop him with a hand on his hip.
"I could take care of that for you," you say, unable to keep the heat from your voice. This may be a bit forward, but no time like the present right? You hear him groan, sliding his own hands down your thighs. You feel him nod against you and you turn, hooking him with your leg and straddling him. You work your hands up his sides, and he melds to your touch. He cups your chin and brings you to his lips. The kiss is languid, full of unspoken passion. You love how he kisses you. It sends little electric pulses down to your toes. You roll your hips over Grillby's bulge. He gives another deep groan that makes your eyes flutter and brings a dirty grin to your lips. He kisses it off you and runs his hands up your shirt. His thumbs brush your breasts delicately and you give a gentle moan. You can feel his cock twitch and it reminds you of your plan to suck him off until he can't remember he's a bartender.
Your kiss trails down his jaw and to his neck, where you give a tender love bite. He grips your hips and hisses positively. You undo his buttons as you pepper more kisses down his chest. You work your way down…down until you get to his belt. You ghost your hands over his cock as you undo it, pulling his zipper down and Grillby out of his fabric prison. His cock is proportional and the same color as the rest of him. All except the vibrant orange precum leaking from his tip.
"I hope you're ready for this," you say with humor, quick to run your hand over his length. He sucked in a breath and you leaned down to taste him. The precum wasn't burning hot like you expected from the color and the glow. It tasted like mesquite smoke and sweet metal, and you wanted more.
You circled your tongue around the tip, watching for the subtle reactions Grillby was putting off. A flick of a flame, a gasp, a twitch. All went into your arsenal of how to please him. His hand went to your hair as you swallowed him down and sucked. You took in his smooth scent and came up with a pop. Licking the tip, you swallowed him back down. He purred, a low rumble in his chest as he stroked your head lovingly. You started a slow bob and worked him with your tongue, enjoying the buck of his hips and the hisses and crackles you wrought from him. You enjoy a pleasant pace for a moment before adding some flair with suction and tongue, getting him deeper in your throat.
The reaction is immediate, he starts to hiss and writhe. Your mouth is too busy to smile at yourself or you'd gloat. You show no mercy, determined to suck this man dry. He tries to tug your hair up and you can guess he's saying he's close, so you hum and keep the pace up. This man, you think. I could just fuck him for days. The tug on your hair, the taste on your tongue, the smell of his smokey musk, the noises Grillby is making; all these culminate in the most fulfilling blowjob you've ever given. You don't ever want to stop, but Grillby is bucking into your mouth and you want to see what his fire does when he cums. So you trail your hands up his thigh and work your tongue double time.
He cums with your name on his lips, his flame burning a wonderful purple and blue. The taste of fire kissed citrus hits your mouth. You lap at it like a cat and clean him while he softens. He's stroking your head as you tuck him back in his pants. You lean back to take a look at your handiwork, Grillby looks wrecked. You take the time now to smile and gloat since your work here is done. Grillby pulls you up to cuddle against his chest.
"I'd give you a kiss but…" you stick out your tongue. "You know where I've been."
In response, Grillby leans over and catches your tongue in a kiss. You blink, a little dazed. Then, you smile happily at your kiss.
"Thank you." Which earns you a chuckle from Grillby.
Grillby, however, was not done with you. His hands begin to roam. Your thighs, your ribs, a ghost of a kiss on your neck, you close your eyes and enjoy them. Then, a hand trails down your stomach and into the line of your panties, a teasing touch that makes your breath catch. You feel anticipation growing as he slowly dips lower and lower until his fingers are trailing up and down your folds, middle finger circling around your clit. You heave against him, shuddering. You know you're going to finish quick, getting Grillby off got you going. He uses two fingers and does lazy circles over the hood of your sex, just enough to build pressure but also frustrating. You bite your lip, wiggling your hips to get more pressure.
Grillby chuckles again, a deep sound that goes straight to your abdomen. You can't hold back a moan anymore, and he rewards you with a firmer touch. You let yourself be loud, and Grillby growls low in his chest which adds fuel to the fire. He drags a finger down to your entrance and dips his middle finger inside, making you sigh contentedly as he begins a steady pace. He curls his finger and drags out a gut punching moan from deep inside you. He's perfect, the perfect pace, the perfect touch. You have no idea how he just innately knows your body, knows what it wants before you do. Grillby is sucking kisses on your neck. You hope they stay. He continues to work it until you're writhing and dripping. If you were in the right mind, you might worry about the moisture and Grillby's wellbeing, but you were too far gone for any kind of thought bigger than six letters.
Instead, you're cumming around his finger as he holds you, your hips bucking as he works you through your orgasm. Your mind whites out for a moment and all you can do is breathe. When your mind comes back you look at Grillby and find the smuggest of all fire elementals. You blow a breath out your nose in amusement and bury your face in his armpit out of embarrassment.
"Yeah you got me back pretty good," you concede. There's a quiet moment where you just exist in each other's arms, before Grillby spoke:
"...Permission to wake you similarly…?" He rumbles. You grin.
"Granted."
Working the bar that night was something else. There was a different energy around you and Grillby. It felt cute, loving, fluffy with little hints of heat. Now? Now it was electric. You both had a pep in your step. Grillby worked the bar with effortless zeal, and you tossed drunks out past their bedtime like sacks of potatoes. Your eyes trailed Grillby's form at the bar with open lust. Grillby leaned closer to you, sticking a heart shaped lollipop in your mouth meant for cocktails, while you sucked on it suggestively. Even the thickest bar patrons could see the blatant flirting.
"Maybe this year will have new nose nuzzling champions," Doggo comments, taking a drag off his dog treat. You turn around and grin at him. You really were a lovesick fool, but you let yourself have this. This was a nice thing, and you didn't have many of those.
And Grillby was the nicest thing. He made you feel desired, warm, loved. He brought you back from the brink of death, carried you in his arms. He was so sweet and charming and seductive all in one captivating package. He could cook, he was amazing to look at, and don't get you started on his voice.
What a catch, you think dreamily, watching Grillby heat a hot cider with his hands. But why would he want to date me? This thought takes up space in your head, but a logical part whispers: Grillby shows you how much he likes you all the time. The poisonous thought bites back: but what if it's just rose colored glasses and he realizes what a mess I am. Then a reply: but we get along so well…This feud continues, until you conclude that you'll hope for the best and prepare for the worst. The worst being Grillby exiting the honeymoon stage and fleeing at the discovery of all your flaws.
Distracting you from your thoughts, the crowd cheers:
"SANS!" And he begins his quips and puns as he makes his way to the bar. Grillby has a bottle of ketchup waiting already. He sits next to you.
"Hey Sans, how's it going?" You ask politely, but you can't keep your mood out of your voice.
"better than you i think. somebody let your guard down?" Sans jokes but is also concerned.
"Nah I'm just being an insecurity guard." You reply, casting your eyes down at your drink. Grillby is in the back preparing a large order of food for a group that just came in. "Wondering what makes me special enough to stick around for," you shrug. Sans hums. He's quiet for a moment before he replies.
"you're pretty loud about monster rights, you almost died for it. you don't mind putting yourself on the line for others. i think that's a strong and admirable character," Sans says seriously. "frankly you put your money where your mouth is." You blink at him, almost in disbelief that he didn't sneak a pun in there, but Sans was often serious with you. You wondered if that was a privilege. You nodded thoughtfully.
"You think that wins out over all the other bullshit?" You ask honestly.
"you mean the bullheadedness and anger issues? i think you vent those out on the customers pretty well," he quips.
"He hasn't seen the nightmares or any of that yet," you hunch in on yourself a bit. The thought of Grillby seeing an episode of yours doesn't bring you comfort.
"grillby is older than he looks. he was a general in the war, if anybody would understand it's him." Sans says.
"Oh," you reply. You should have seen that. He didn't carry himself like a soldier, but the human monster war was over 1,000 years ago. Maybe civilian life helped heal him. You hoped so. "Maybe he will," you reply with a hopeful tone in your voice.
Grillby comes back after delivering his food to the table and you look at how strong he is as he serves them. His sleeves rolled up showing off his arms as he carried the heavy trays. You sigh in adoration, and Sans chuckles at you. You roll your eyes.
"One day you're gunna be in love and I'm gunna turn this around on you ten times more," you threaten.
"i'm immune to romantic love," he says dramatically.
"What? What was that? Set you up with all my friends you say?"
"what friends?" He snarks, "all your friends are here," he says, and you clutch your chest, making a noise of the falsely wounded.
"Damn Sans why are you so accurate all the time," you huff. But you have to say, Sans always improved your mood and knew what to say to make you smile. You wished you could do the same for him. He who laughs the proudest cries the loudest after all. "You're a good guy Sans," you say, in lieu of a joke. Sometimes your humor failed you, so you went with sincerity.
Sans didn't respond. Instead, you sat in companionable silence, listening to the bar around you.
After that, things went pretty smoothly. You only had to send some people home early instead of tossing anybody out for the next couple days. You've kind of unofficially moved into Grillby's house. You and Grillby continued to explore each other with your hands while kissing, and kissing became a lot hotter, no pun intended.
Then, it finally happens. You are curled up in Grillby's arms when a nightmare hits you. You toss, you turn, you feel nothing but arms around you and you panic. The memories of what happened blur with reality until a thump hits the floor. You look around dazed to find Grillby groaning and holding his face, sprawled out on the floor, and the realization of what you've done hits you. You hit Grillby.
"Grillby?" You ask tentatively, "I'm so sorry–I'm, I–sorry," you begin to sob. Your mind is already going a million miles an hour about how this is the end of your relationship. You're shaking. Not only did you have a shit nightmare, but it cost you your boyfriend. He picks himself up and comes toward you. You're shaking, in shock of what happened, and you let him wrap himself around you.
"...I forgive you…" He whispers as he hugs you tight. And a dam falls away, you break down completely.
"What did I do to deserve you?" You cry into his shoulder. Grillby hums into the crook of your neck. He brushes the hair out of your face.
"...You're you…" he says, like it's obvious. He tugs you back into bed, and somehow, after a time, you both fall back asleep.
Grillby makes good on his promise to wake you up a similar way. He must have thought you needed it after last night. That morning, you find yourself with a fire elemental between your thighs with his lips around your cunt. You cry out as his tongue wets your clit. The heat of his mouth with the cool of his saliva hitting the air drives you wild.
You're embarrassed with how quickly he drives you to chanting his name, his fingers inside you pumping readily as he works you with his fiery lips. His magic tingles and sends electric vibrations through your nerves with every lick.
"Fuck–Ah, Grillby I'm already close," you warn. He continues what he's doing until you're on the edge. Then, the motherfucker. He waits until you're bucking into him, crying, almost there. Then he licks you fully one last time before drawing back and blowing on you.
"Aaaah!" You whine, so close it's painful. You narrow your eyes. "You cruel man, how could you do this to me," you say unseriously. You get an actual laugh, his face dancing with mirth, before he descends back onto your sex.
It only takes a moment of his tongue on you before you give a final cry, desperately grasping the bedsheets. But he doesn't relent, he extends your orgasm by continuing until you are shaking, your legs quivering as you continue to gush around his fingers.
"Please, please!" You beg, and he relents, letting you rest. Your chest is heaving, your muscles are tight, but you are satisfied. You fantasized about him going down on you, what the heat would feel like. It was far quicker than expected, but that was your fault. It was so much better than you could have ever imagined. You felt giddy, ready to face anything.
"I love you," you said, before you could catch yourself. Grillby props himself up to look at you, and for a moment you're afraid you made a mistake.
"...I love you too…" he replies, and your heart soars.