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Wade presents it to her one evening as they get ready for bed, wrapped in pink tissue paper, blushing furiously.
The weight of it felt nice in her palms. For a long moment she simply admires the craftsmanship, the smooth, blemish free surface, the swirl of pink and orange minerals dancing up the shaft. It was a pretty little thing– obviously made by a talented glassmaker.
He watches her examine it like it's just some trinket, turning the glass dildo over in her hands. Squinting, running a finger from the head to the base in a way that felt entirely too scientific. He felt like imploding.
“Sooo?” He presses, laughing nervously. “Do you like it?”
“It’s well made.” She hums an affirmative. If she is trying to seem unaffected she is succeeding. She runs the pad of her thumb against the maker's mark on the base and Wade grits his teeth, watching intently. “Where’d you get it? I don’t recognize this signature.”
He breaks, never particularly good at playing this game, too pent up after a week of hiding this from her.
“Emmmberrrr.” He whines, “Quit making fun of me.”
Ember looks up, blinking away a cloud of thoughts she’s used to only having at work. Her head tilts, a sweet smile creeping to her features.
“I’m not, baby blue.” She takes his hand, then places the toy back in his palm to keep it from melting with her heat. His body simmers, hisses where it touches. “What did you have in mind?”
He swallows thickly, his mind swimming with one singular imagined scenario, already looking as dazed as he does when he's buried inside her. She imagines how embarrassing it was for him to buy this, how nervous he must have been to show her this, to even consider buying this for her at all. It is hopelessly endearing. It is her turn to blush.
“I can’t fuck you as long as I’d like to.”
The vulgarity of his words hits like a bucket of water to the face. Her whole body gives a whoosh of surprise, her flames jumping bright white. He looks just as startled at the admission, but he continues despite the sweat rolling down his face in large droplets.
“I want to use it on you.” His voice goes soft, shy, “If that's something you think you’d like?”
“Oh.” She breathes, eyes wide both in surprise and confusion. The idea is appealing, but not particularly feasible with her… anatomy. “Uhh, sure, but—”
The innocent joy on his features at her acceptance shuts her up very, very quickly. She had, over the years they had been together, found out gift-giving was definitely his love language— his favorite way of showing just how much he adored her. She could not bring herself to crush his hopes, not right now, not with words, anyway.
She softens, cups his cheeks and kisses him lightly.
“You’re very sweet.” She murmurs when she pulls back, watching relief flood his features. He was worried she’d find this embarrassing, or worse, insulting. He wasn’t quite sure how a talented glassmaker viewed someone using her craft to make… this.
“I know this is weird, but I saw it and I—”
Ember leans back against her pillow, listening, feeling a strange surge of confidence ripple through her. This was going to end poorly, but she could at least make it worth his while while she was at it. She opens her legs, fingers pressing, parting white-hot flame.
He moves towards her as if pulled by gravity, nearly forgetting the toy in his hurry to observe, his mouth parted.
She raises her eyebrows, motioning for him to continue, dipping two fingers into herself. He gulps, eyes flicking up then down and back again to watch her slowly work herself open. It's a beautiful show she’s putting on.
“—It looked like something you’d made. The colors and all. And I thought it might be good for you to, you know.”
He touches her inner thigh, spreading her legs just a bit further apart.
“ You know? ” She grins, teasing, feigning innocence.
“To— to have. When I can’t.” He mumbles, unable to meet her eyes, transfixed by the sight in front of him. She’s burning hot, maybe hotter than usual. He can feel the heat on his face like sunshine.
Ember lets a little sigh escape, tilting her head back against the headboard, her lips parted as she breathes in quicker, shallower breaths.
“Do you normally go to, mmh , sex shops?” Her voice goes irresistibly breathy, amusement at the edge. A whine threatens to rise from his throat, his mind fighting to continue this conversation when all he really wants to do is fuck her until she can’t think. The casual conversation while she was doing this made his thoughts feel like syrup. He rubs his thighs together and chases any friction he can get.
“ No .“ He protests weakly, “First time, I wanted to get something for you and it was… recommended. By one of the cashiers.”
“ Oh. ” She adds another finger, pumping them in and out in a rhythm now, a thumb on her clit. “You asked them for recommendations for things you could fuck me with?”
The thought of her water guy sheepishly asking around for something she could use when he couldn’t stand the heat long enough to please her the way he wanted makes her head spin. She is not the only one affected by the vocalization of this confession, though. She feels an unpleasant gush of wetness against her belly and her head darts up to look at what’d caused it.
Wade’s body had gotten very close to hers, and the dark blush racing across his face is as good a clue as any to what he’d done, if the sight of his cock quickly retreating back with an embarrassing slosh of water was not enough. He leans away, recoiling, mortified, covering his face with his hands.
“I’ mm sorry.” He mumbles, muffled by his palms, “Sorry. You know I can’t handle watching you.”
She bites back something teasing, instead letting a moan escape as she feels herself flutter around her fingers. Sweet thing. She was so unbelievably lucky.
“It’s okay.” She soothes, then withdraws her hand with visible reluctance. Now was as good a time as any to see if that toy worked for its intended purpose, she supposed. “You want to try it now? I’m all prepared.”
“Yes,” he blurts quickly, swallowing. “Yeah.”
He gets close again, bringing his body nearly flush with hers, his legs folded neatly under him. He hooks an arm under her left leg and pulls her hips up, canting them, folding her lower half into the small space their bodies afforded them. The position left her feeling open, exposed, her sex bared to him. A little sigh falls from her lips.
A cool object is pressed to her entrance, angled down with the slope of her hips. His right hand is grasped around the base of the toy. He looks focused, enthralled by the sight, his gaze flicking back up to meet hers just as he starts to press in.
“Alright?”
Ember hums, nods, looking unusually catty underneath heavy lashes. She continues on with her earlier train of thought. “This cashier, were they water?”
His hand stalls, confused. “Yes?”
Ah.
She impatiently splays her hand over his and pushes, easing the toy into herself with an aching slowness. His confusion is forgotten, for a moment, as he watches her part around it. It is one hot, slick glide until it sinks in.
“Did you tell them you were getting this for a fire girl?”
“No? I don’t see why I—”
The glass in his palm heats, simmering where it touches. His fingers begin to indent wherever they hold it.
“ Uh .”
“Uh-huh.” She grins. It is not a particularly unpleasant sensation, feeling it melt within her, more funny than anything and… disappointing. It was a good, warm fullness for the twenty or so seconds it lasted.
His face falls as he pulls his hand back, the toy emerging as a glowing, formless column of molten glass. She pats a hand to his chest, snickering.
It bends under his gaze, drooping pathetically to one side. His shocked, open mouth begins to curl at the edges, a rush of amusement and embarrassment flooding him. “I’m so stupid.”
“Nooo, you’re very thoughtful.” Her body untangles itself from underneath him, sitting up so she can give this the full attention this requires. “It was a good idea. You’re just going to need to find something more fireproof.”
And that does cheer him up, the thought of getting to do this right. He wanted to, he wanted to work at her for hours and hours in a way his body wouldn’t exactly approve of. Something that could handle her heat better.
Ember takes the deformed, quickly-hardening glass in her hands and heats it back to melting point. It was a shame she had to destroy someone else's hard work, but his face when he realized his mistake was just too good . She pinches, pulls molten glass until it resembles something phallic again, her tongue peeking out from her lips as she focuses. She does, perhaps self-indulgently, add a few embellishments, improvements here and there. When she is finished, she places it back in Wade’s hands to cool.
He blinks away steam until he can see the new form of the toy. It is the same color, a pretty vivisteria-pink and orange— It is what drew him to it in the first place— but now it's a bit shorter, with a more pronounced curve, and just slightly top-heavy. It was a shape not unlike his own. Startlingly close, actually.
It was a shame he couldn’t use it on her.
“Better?” She hums, looking as bashful as she always does when presenting something she’d made with her own hands. “I’d like to think I have a good idea of what you look like, but I’ve never sculpted something like this before.”
There is an intriguing, deep blush rising on his cheeks as he turns it in his hands, quietly taking it in, lost in contemplation. His voice comes out oddly breathy when he next speaks. “Better.”
The color on his face worsens when he notices her staring, watching the emotions flicker across his face. Her curiosity is sparked, and her irises shimmer with it. He knows that intense look too well and shifts under it shyly.
“Do you want to try it?”
Her own bravado shocks her, but she presses on, keeping her voice sincere, “It would be nice if at least one of us could get some use out of this.”
He meets her gaze and sweats, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “I— I don’t know.”
And he truly doesn’t know, not particularly sure if it is something he would enjoy. But then her hand comes up to grasp his arm, steadying, coaxing, and he continues. “Maybe.”
Then Ember is kissing at his neck, clamoring upon him, and a vision of her with the toy she sculpted strapped to her hips, plowing into him with her pretty smile, ripples through him with such an intensity it makes all the breath leave his body. And his resolve slips away by the second.
“Maybe?” She repeats, her body above his now, her eyebrows raised expectantly for something a bit more enthusiastic.
“Yeah.” He swallows thickly, mind racing, beads of water rolling off of him. It is all he can manage to croak out, his heart in his throat.
She leans back with that analytical, focused look in her eye again, eyes raking over the curve of his chest and down to where his cock twitches, neglected against his stomach. She didn’t actually expect to get this far, and now there was figuring out how this would work. Had she thought about doing this before? Maybe, but not with much thought to specifics.
She hums, running a hand down his thigh in thought, “How do you want me?”
Wade looks up, feeling embarrassingly fucked-silly even though nothing had really happened yet. Words come slow, like they’re freezing in his head before they can make it out of his mouth. Positions flicker across his vision faster than he can really comprehend them.
“ Uhm. ” He sits up, the ideas in his head all simmering down into one new, fuzzy desire. “I want to see you.”
Ember smiles, eyes narrowing fondly, and pats his leg. “That can be arranged, pretty boy.”
His head falls back against the bed with a strangled noise, wondering rather vividly if she could make him cum just through words alone. It certainly feels possible, the way he can feel it coiling hot in his stomach as she murmurs sweet-nothings, nicknames and praises as she coaxes him into sitting against the headboard— the same place she was moments ago. It’s a position she’s been countless times before, except now it was him feeling the press of something threatening to breach him, his hips tilted up to meet it, one hand keeping his legs raised just right.
She has one hand grasped around the base of the toy and another tracing soothing circles on his inner thigh, a ring of bubbles erupting where she does so. It is hard to focus on much of anything though, not with how she looks at him. Dewdrop , he had brought out something in her that had her hotter than a bonfire— viciously eager to see him unravel.
“Ready?”
There’s already a blush running down the water of his chest, down from his face and across his shoulders. It worsens terribly when he blinks some clarity to his features and moves a hand down to the crux of his legs.
She removes the toy for a second, watching him instead dip a finger into himself, working himself open. His cock twitches. She has half a mind to mimic the action before she remembers she can’t quite physically manage that, not the way he can, lest she leave with two fingers extinguished.
She realizes, then, just how easily Wade could have possibly forgotten that a glass toy would not work for her. Perhaps they are both equally matched in levels of arousal-induced foolishness.
He adds another finger and she wishes terribly that it was hers, watching very closely as he scissors them, stretching then retreating, little beads of water clinging to them as he pulls back, surface tension rippling.
“Ready.” He murmurs, eyes wide and doe-like when he looks back up at her. His legs fall further open, relaxing or surrendering.
It is achingly slow as she presses in, so gentle with it that it makes him tear up. The softness of it all keeps him from bracing against the intrusion, feeling every inch as it sinks into him glass-smooth. It is an unfamiliar, vulnerable sensation that has him screwing up his face for a moment.
“Ok?” She asks, her eyes quick to catch his discomfort.
He exhales a deep, shaking breath, nodding despite the strange expression he wears. “Weird.”
“In a good way?”
“I think?” He shifts a little, adjusting his body beneath her until he finds a slightly more comfortable position. “It’s not bad .”
“Do you want me to keep going?”
“Yeah.” He breathes out. “Yeah.”
Ember pulls out and thrusts in, tip to base, as far as it’ll go. Still so gentle but with more conviction this time, a little less afraid of hurting him. The bulbed head and narrower base has it pop in with a satisfying little tug and sit firmly within him, without her needing to hold it at all.
He wheezes like he’s been punched in the stomach, his eyes widening as they stare up at the ceiling like being shown some holy vision. A droplet of precum rolls from the head of his cock, down the curve of his stomach and onto the bed.
“Oh.” He breathes, looking down at himself like he's not quite sure where that came from. He can see the thing buried in him through the transparency of this body, the sight both obscene and woefully arousing.
The grin she flashes at him is all teeth and all self-satisfaction. It makes him shudder. “Good?” She coos, knowing the answer.
“Do that again.” He all but commands, finishing with a shy, cursory, “Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” She laughs softly, and repeats the action with a quicker, dexterous flick. It earns her a sweet little moan, his eyes fluttering. It is warm within him and growing hotter by the second, the current of his body wicking the heat until he can feel his whole form rise a few fevered degrees. He can imagine this is what it feels like to really get fucked by her, and the thought has him leaking in an embarrassing quantity against himself.
He was the one who was supposed to be doing this. Now, he was on his back and her eyes were sparkling with desire, one hand on his cock and one pulling, pushing a glass dildo she had sculpted in his own image into him in a building rhythm.
“ Ember .” He gasps, overcome, “Emberrrrr .”
“I wonder if they have fireproof harnesses.” She quips, unaffected and ignoring his pleasured, delirious chanting, now pumping a curled hand around him. His body simmers where she touches, flushing violet with the mixed colors of their bodies, flame-on-water. “If they don’t, I can probably make one. Would you like that?”
A whine is all she gets back in reply, his hips twitching weakly with each thrust. He imagines it and it is too much to bear. She strokes his cock slowly, careful not to overstimulate him, carful to let the toy do most of the talking.
The slick noises his body makes with each movement is so obscene it makes her flush vibrantly. Was this how she sounded? She had never been so clear headed during this, so attuned. He had fallen apart in her arms and she was lucid for every moment.
“You look so pretty like this, Wade.” She cocks her head, voice sincere and brimming with adoration. Heavy, wobbling tears gather at the corners of his eyes and threaten to spillover. “We should have tried this sooner.”
He can’t formulate any kind of response, laid low by the praise. Instead he grasps at her wherever he can reach and holds onto her tightly like she’ll stop fucking him if he doesn’t. The rising feeling of his oncoming orgasm feels perilous, overwhelming, frighteningly strong. He needs the anchoring feeling of her flame hot against his palm, needs her somehow closer so bad it aches.
“I’m going to —” He warns, and the tears are coming in a steady stream now, little hiccuping breaths along with them. “Gonna cum, baby .”
“Already?” She teases sweetly, and he nods with his lips parted, a string of saliva connecting the two halves of his mouth. He his completely and utterly consumed by it, her , the sensation of being fucked and being told he looks pretty while taking it.
It is too much for him to process all at once. Her heart pangs with love at the sight of him so lost to it. She cups his cheek, leaning in.
“Then come for me, Wade.” She murmurs against his mouth, pushing in roughly once more, and then he's shuddering, sobbing, thick spurts of cum striping up his belly as his cock pulses.
Just as he is told.
His fingers do not unclasp from where they grip onto her for a long time, and she doesn’t mind at all. She grants him all the time in the world to lay there and recover, less basking in the afterglow and more wondering why the earth felt like it had shifted on its axis.
When he does permit her to pull away she gets right to work cleaning up the mess, tongue flicking out against the droplets on his chest and tasting sea salt in the steam as it evaporates. Wade wipes at his face and runs a shaky hand through the flames of her head, tugging her upwards until he can kiss her, the taste of him in her mouth.
She breaks away for a second just to ask, just to hear him say it, “Good?”
He responds with a tired, affirmative hum, his eyes lidded and dreamy, and kisses her again. She smiles into it, crawling up to straddle him, her legs around his middle.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He’s stroking down her back, sliding his body down until he’s flush against the bed. The rawness of his voice startles her. “I didn’t know you could get like that.”
“I could—” She stops, faltering, feeling his hands settle on her hips, nudging them up towards his head. “—I could say the same about you.”
“Well I could get used to you being on top.”
The obviousness of his statement makes her snort, “Yeah, I could tell.”
He does not reply to that with anything other than a bashful smile, but she does not miss the split-second flick of his gaze to the apex of her thighs. He pats her on the curve of her hip, murmuring a soft: “C’mon. Up.”
“Wade.” She warns, flushing, settling back into a familiar headspace. “You know what happened last time.”
She had burned a little too hot, his tongue against her like gasoline on a bonfire, her legs wrapped tight around his head. He got very, very close to evaporating, and also came harder, untouched, than he ever had in his life.
“I’ll be careful,” His eyes are sparkling, wide and pleading, “I can handle spicy food.”
“No you can’t .” She laughs, both fond and exasperated. But then Wade darts his tongue out against his bottom lip, eyelids heavy, and it is all the convincing she needs. She’s been pent-up all this time, still feeling the empty loss of her fingers within her, still dripping with the arousal that came just from watching him come undone as she fucked him.
“Okay. Okay. But tell me when it’s too much.” She says, and he nods rather unconvincingly, and then she’s sitting cautiously on his face with his hands guiding her down the rest of the way. The headboard becomes a tool for leverage, bracing against it in some vague attempt to keep her full weight off of him.
“Mmh .” He hums against her, simmering, the air growing humid. “You’re hot.”
His breath against her there is enough to make her gasp, flames flaring with the added oxygen. She can feel him grinning as he tilts her hips and laps at the wetness dripping from her core. It is molten heat, sizzling on his tongue. Her resolve falters.
He drags one long, slow stripe from there to her clit and listens intently to the flood of curses that it earns him. Such pretty noises, some that sound like the crackling of wood in a fire, some he’s sure are failed attempts at his name. And there, in their bed, a toy still glossy with his fluids on the bedside table, he devours her.
She deserves it, after a show like that.
Ember pants, pushing a hand into the waves on his head like she means to pull his mouth closer, but all she allows herself is a rough card-through with her fingers. At least until he wraps his lips around her clit and sucks , hard, and then all bets are off. She shoves herself into his mouth and whines, flames roaring, flaring. She knows just as much as he does that she has never been particularly good at holding back. And he is thrilled to let her loose.
He digs his fingers into her thighs and holds her there, not letting her pull away even an inch, even when she realizes just how much of her weight she’s pressing into him. He circles his tongue and sizzles like water in a hot pan.
“Waade .” She cries. “ Fuck .”
His body boils, bubbles catching her light at scattering it against every surface in every corner of the room. Not that he can see this, of course, the thighs around his head preventing him from doing much of anything except eating her out. It is a bit like being consumed while doing the consuming, all wildfire-recklessness. A divine way to go.
He does not let up until her legs shake, until there is a thick layer of steam dancing on the ceiling like rolling fog. He can feel her come, feel her shudder and arch violently against him, a gush of white-hot flame fizzing against his mouth.
She pulls herself off of him as soon as he lets her, as soon an ounce of clarity returns to her head, leaving him splayed out and panting on the bed looking dazed, lovestruck, wrecked , a string of something molten strung out between her sex and his mouth. He simmers for a long minute even after she is gone.
“You—” She gasps, heaves, her eyes wild and almost-angry, “You’re crazy.”
“I’m lucky .” He wipes at his face, murmuring drunkenly, the words barely enunciated enough to make sense. “God, I’m so lucky.”
She flops down a good few feet away from him, offering him a deliberate reprieve from a body he would happily die for, shaking too terribly to do much else. Wade turns on his side and watches her come back to her senses with a smitten, saccharine grin— a moth to a flame. Always.
"We should do that again." He says, stretching out liquid and oozing with satisfaction. His body aches in wonderfully new ways. "All of it."
"You need an intervention." She bites back, but her eyes are narrowed playfully and theres not an ounce of malice behind the words. She couldn't muster it even if she wanted to.