Work Text:
You have always been fascinated with hands, especially Calum’s talented ones.
His strong hands that effortlessly helps you with everything you fail to do using your own strength, like lifting your heavy luggage for you whenever you encounter a flight of stairs during your trips together and opening jars with insanely tight lids; his strong hands that grab yours instantly and never let go when he realises that you are going through a tough time, to keep you from spiraling further downwards into your depths of despair; his strong hands that finds yours instinctively in a crowded street to keep both of you connected as you weave past the mass of bodies, in fear of you getting lost amongst the sea of people; his strong hands that hold you close to him every night as you sleep, his grasp on you unfaltering to make sure that you can’t slip away from him when he’s far away and dreaming; his strong hands that are placed on your waist whenever you accompany him to special events as his plus one, providing you a sense of familiarity and comfort to calm your nerves because he knows that unlike him who’s used to attention of all sorts, you get terribly anxious around strangers; his strong hands that possess an astonishing amount of agility that allows him to deftly move across the fretboards of guitars or basses and across the keyboard of a piano;
His strong hands that are always so careful when he cradles your cheeks, no matter if he’s kissing you or not, as if you are the most delicate thing he has ever known and he’s afraid of accidentally breaking you, his most prized possession, the love of his life.
There’s nothing his hands can’t do, you are sure of that and there is probably nothing else in this world that you love more than them.
And you never ever miss any chances to make that fact clear to him.
Especially one like tonight where it’s just both of you silently enjoying each other’s presence, sharing the plush double bed that’s more than big enough for two. Your chin is rested on the palm of your hand as you lay propped up on an elbow with an open novel placed in front of you but instead of reading, you are watching him play the guitar. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him looking extremely at peace, his features soft except for the slight furrow in his brows as he focuses on his fingers that dance around the strings, ensuring that they land on the right positions to get the right notes, causing a beautiful melody to fill the room. He doesn’t even have to sing for your ears to be blessed.
He glances at you and his heart warms instantly when he takes in the sight of you looking at him with nothing but sheer adoration. You always have this starstruck look on your face when he’s in his element and not a day goes by where he isn’t grateful for a supportive girlfriend like you. “You sure love to watch me play, don’t you?” He chuckles, hands gradually stopping their movements on his instrument.
You don’t shy from his question, nor do you blush when you’re caught staring, only flopping onto your back as your lips stretch into a joyful grin, eyes sparkling like the stars that don the vast night sky outside of the window. “Mhm-hmm, always,” you nod eagerly. You love everything he does and you aren’t afraid to admit it over and over again. Your boldness is one of your best qualities that prompted Calum to fall for you in the first place and time has yet to wash away his love for your beautiful soul that he is lucky enough to call his.
“I love you,” the eight letters slip out of his mouth naturally, the spark that ignites an explosion of butterflies in your stomach. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing those words, no matter how many times he has said it to you. He places his right hand on your cheek, stroking it with the utmost tenderness and you cover his hand with yours to keep it close.
“Love you too, Cal,” your eyes close as you lean into his touch, your fingers habitually tracing the veins on his broad hand that dwarfs yours. “Especially your hands,” you mumble softly, not thinking much about your words.
He is thankful that he followed his instincts of shifting the portable guitar stand to the side of your bed before he started playing because he is reluctant to detach himself from you after witnessing how content you look at the moment. With his free hand, he returns his guitar to its stand, choosing to pour all his attention to you instead. “Oh, my love,” he laughs lightly, highly amused. “After all this time, my hands are still what you love most about me?”
You hum approvingly. “They’re always so nice and warm,” you muse tiredly, followed by a yawn. “And so good at making me sleepy.”
“C’mon sweetheart, head on your pillows,” he instructs, his voice filled with a loving tenderness. You let go of his hand so that he can help to shift your body. Not even a second later, your head hit the fluffy pillows. “Gotta make sure you sleep comfortably.”
“But I don’t wanna sleep, Cal,” you whine, tugging on his sleeve.
“Then what do you want?”
“Your hands,” he doesn’t need you to specify your request to know what you actually mean and it’s definitely not about wanting him to hold your hands.
“But baby, are you sure you have the energy for that?”
“Just a quickie, please,” you drag the last syllable, making your sentence sound like a question. You look up at him with pleading eyes that you know are impossible for him to say no to. “Really need you, Cal.”
He bites his bottom lip in contemplation, eyes fixated on your petite figure beneath him. You indeed look ravishing in your skimpy little nightgown and he can’t deny the fact that he has been slightly worked up ever since the moment you walked out of the bathroom dressed in that flimsy piece of fabric that isn’t exactly revealing yet managed to showcase your curves and edges perfectly. But is it right for him to keep you up when you’re obviously exhausted?
Then again, it isn’t right for him to leave you unsatisfied too, right?
He eventually sighs and a triumphant smile appears on your face right away after knowing that you won. “Okay,” he kisses your forehead once, then your nose and finally your lips. His lips don’t linger on yours for long though, a chaste kiss is all he offered. You pout, disappointed, hands already latching onto the front of his jumper, intending to pull him back in for more. “Nuh-uh,” he grabs your wrists to your surprise, the sudden motion causing your grip on him to loosen on reflex. “You’ll only take what I give tonight, sleepyhead. Don’t be a greedy girl, yeah?”
He releases your hands and you let them fall to your sides right away, not daring to try anything else. You’re reluctant to oblige his request but that’s what you did, because the last thing you want is for him to change his mind and you’ll receive nothing at all.
He sits back on his knees and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing your calf before letting it sit there. “Good girl,” his two simple words are enough to make you whimper and from the smirk you can feel on your skin as he trails his lips towards the apex of your thigh, you know he takes joy in knowing that you are always needy for him and only him . “Gonna make you feel so good, my love,” he says confidently, lips reaching your clothed core at last. He leaves open-mouthed kisses over it, watching in pure delight at how your body responds wonderfully to him, panties dampening with arousal and legs clenching his head to keep him there. “Gonna show you what my hands are truly good at.”
“Oh my gosh, Calum !” you yelp in shock when you hear the sound of your panties being ripped apart.
“Shh, honey,” he tosses the shreds to the side and you stare at him incredulously. First he says he doesn’t want to go rough but now this? “About time to buy you prettier ones anyway,” he silences your thoughts by kissing your bundle of nerves. Your head sinks further back into the pillow as your mind goes completely, utterly blank when he starts sucking slowly but steadily, to get you ready for what he has in mind. He groans at your sweet juices that enter his mouth, the vibration of sound against your heat sending a jolt of pleasurable electricity up your spine. He uses all his self-control to pull away, however—before he gets too addicted to your taste and chooses to eat you out all night instead—and replaces his mouth with the calloused pad of his thumb. There’s a time for him to take all his sweet time to rail you until your body and voice turn sore the next morning but tonight, he’ll make things quick but pleasurable for you, so that you can still get enough rest afterwards to prepare for an early work day tomorrow.
He lifts your nightgown up so that he can lay his head on your bare stomach, relishing the lewd sounds of your breathy moans that’re tumbling out of your mouth non-stop as he continues his languid ministrations on your clit, rubbing it fast enough in various patterns that make your fingers tangling through his hair to find support. “Feels good, baby?” He asks lazily despite knowing what your answer will be.
“So good, Cal,” you breathe, eyes already rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy at the fast pace he’s rubbing your clit.
“Is it okay for me to slide a finger in now, sweetheart?” He turns his head to the side to kiss your belly once. He always asks for your consent before doing anything, just to make sure that he’s not going too fast so that you feel comfortable and blissful.
“Yes, oh gosh , please… fuck , Calum ,” you let out a particularly loud curse when he slips his middle finger into your dripping wet cunt, his thick finger stretching your taut muscles, the cool rings around his fingers adding to your pleasure as they come into contact with your warm pussy.
“Mhm…love it when you say my name like that,” his voice is thickly laced with lust and desire, the deep raspy tone driving you crazy. “Must be the luckiest guy on earth to score a girl like you, eh? Making such pretty noises when your little hole is being fucked by my fingers,” You can only mewl pathetically in response as his finger continues plunging in and out of your pussy at an increasing pace to the point where he has to hold you still with another hand because you’re squirming too much underneath him. “Keep still, baby.”
“Can’t, Cal, I want more… need more ,” you say between ragged breaths, barely able to speak properly.
He chuckles, looking up at you from where he’s laid with his cheek pressed against your tummy. He’s more than pleased when he sees the erotic expression on your face that consists of a pair of half-lidded eyes and plump lips that have fallen open in an ‘o’ shape. He always tells you how beautiful you look—regardless if you’re dressed in a fancy dinner dress with heavy makeup or plain pajamas with hair so wild it resembles a lion’s mane—because you indeed are the most stunning woman in his eyes under every circumstances but there’s something about the way you look during sex that makes him realize how much he needs you to stay his forever. To be the only one who can make your pretty little mind forget everything except his name and how easily he can make you see stars just by touching you.
“So fuckin’ needy,” he taunts darkly but you know he means it as a compliment for he loves it when you’re a moaning mess, begging him for more. “Don’t even remember your manners now, hmm?”
“ Please , Cal,” you plead breathlessly, rolling your hips against his hand, emphasizing on how much you’re yearning for more friction. “Want you to make me full .”
He groans at your straightforwardness, trying to ignore the growing tent in his own pants. “Okay, baby, I got you,” he slips another finger into you and you cry his name out to the ceiling. Wet squelching noises of your entrance squeezing his fingers tightly are the only sounds that can be heard in the room aside from your quick, uneven pants. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says lowly and speeds up, thrusting his fingers into and out of you repeatedly while his thumb continues to work on your sensitive nub until you are chanting his name like a sacred mantra and that’s how he knows you’re close to your peak. “Are you close, my love?”
“Yeah, oh yes... shit, Calum !” you scream his name when you feel him hit your sweet spot. Once. Then twice. Then over and over again. You almost burst into tears when he curls his fingers inside you, flicking them at a fast pace, the sensation created too overwhelming for you to bear. “P…please let me cum, Cal.”
“Go on, princess,” He plants kisses all the way down from your belly to your southern region, pupils dilating as he sees the way his fingers, rings and all, disappear into you and are stained with your juices when they reappear. It is terribly painful for his... member ...who’s still stuck in the confines of his sweatpants but he doesn’t let it show. He merely looks up at you with his signature warm smile plastered on his face. “Let it all out for me, yeah?”
He doesn’t have to say another word for your climax to split you open with a loud cry, washing white, hot, unbridled pleasure over you. “That’s a good girl. My good girl,” for a moment, you’re blind, floating elsewhere as Calum continues to mumble strings of praises, still fingering you through your throes of pleasure. “You did so well, baby,” with one final kiss on your clit, he removes his fingers and moves away from between your legs. You are out of breath, your face flustered and oh how much Calum wants to take you right then and there .
He doesn’t act on his desires though, refusing to let you do anything even when you ask him if he needs help to settle the bulge in his pants. He kisses and tells you not to worry about it for it’ll go away naturally soon, although it is incredibly painful for now.
You watch him help you clean up the mess between your legs with a damp towel, a hint of hunger evident in his dark brown orbs. You offer him again. “Baby, are you sure? It’s unfair that you…”
“Shush, sweetheart,” he smiles assuringly, cutting you off. “Sleep, ‘kay?” He finds another clean pair of panties for you from your wardrobe and helps you to put it on. “I’m fine but you’re not gonna be tomorrow if you don’t sleep now.”
You hate that he has a point. You have no choice but to silently make a mental note to make up to him another day. You scoot over to your side of the bed and pull the covers over you. “Fine, goodnight, Cal.”
You sense the bed dip afterwards, before the bedside lamp is turned off. Strong arms wrap around your body to pull you closer to his muscles body that’s currently covered with what you think is the softest jumper that’s ever made. His scent engulfs yours and you can’t help but inhale a lungful of it, loving the comfort that it brings. In his arms, you feel safe, you feel at home .
“Goodnight, my darling,” he says, his deep voice holding all the love in the world. His hands draw invisible shapes on your stomach in an attempt to lull you to sleep. “And I still love you, even though you only love my hands.”
You only snuggle closer to him with a smile on your face.