#THIS IS SO SWEET TY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellinistical · 16 days ago

Text

Dtghhdhgtuht tysm!

in which you get him to crush a watermelon with his thighs. And then ask for your head to be next. The thing is, you didn’t expect him to take you seriously. suggestive. a/n: I know its still winter I just wanna be crushed.

tw: not proof-read wc: 2.1k

It was summer. It was hot- of course it was.

Unfortunately, your loser boyfriend was a bit too….

You walked in on Caleb getting ready for the gym, his shorts tight and his wife-beater even tighter. Dear lord was this man too much.

And normally, you’d have some decency. Some modesty with your gaze.

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “You could crush a watermelon with your thighs.”

Caleb froze mid-reach for his sneakers, looking up at you in faux confusion, his ears tinged pink for a split second before giving a smug look. “Oh, could I?” He stands up, flexing his right thigh a little.

You rolled your eyes so hard you might’ve seen your own brain. "Don't let it get to your head," you muttered, trying to recover from the slip, but your face was already heating up like the summer sun outside. "I’m just saying. Objectively."

"Objectively, huh?" Caleb stood up, taking his sweet time, his grin never wavering. "You sure it’s not, like, a little subjective? ‘Cause you’re staring pretty hard."

You scoffed, folding your arms. "I wasn’t staring. You’re just... in my line of vision. Stop fishing for compliments."

"Fishing? Pipsqueak, you just handed me the biggest catch of the day." He leaned down to grab his gym bag, giving you a corny wink. "Watermelon-crushing thighs, huh? Maybe I’ll give you a demonstration later."

You sit up suddenly. Later? Definitely not. “We have a watermelon in the fridge.” He stares back.

***

And that’s how you ended up in the kitchen on the floor beside him, with a towel under his legs and the poor watermelon that you took a shelf out of the fridge so it could fit between his thighs.

Caleb glances down at the watermelon, then back up at you, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. "You're actually making me do this?"

"You said you'd give me a demonstration," you say, cross-legged on the floor beside him. "I'm just holding you accountable."

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head like he can't believe he's actually about to attempt this. "This is the dumbest thing we've ever done," he mutters, shifting his legs slightly to adjust the watermelon between them.

"That's a lie," you counter, watching intently. "Remember the time you tried to parkour over the couch and took out the coffee table instead?"

Caleb groans. "Okay, fair. But this is up there."

You grin. "Just shut up and crush the fruit, colonel."

With a dramatic sigh, he tightens his grip on the watermelon, muscles tensing as he applies pressure. For a second, nothing happens. Then, the faintest crack echoes through the kitchen.

Your eyes widen. "Oh my god."

Caleb's expression shifts from mild skepticism to determination. He presses harder. The crack deepens, the rind splitting just slightly, juice starting to bead along the surface.

"Holy shit," you whisper, half in awe, half in horror. "You’re actually doing it."

"Obviously," he grits out, adjusting his hold. "Told you I could."

"This is stupid," you say, even though you’re the one who suggested it. Even though you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor, elbows on your knees, watching Caleb size up the watermelon like it personally wronged him.

Caleb adjusts his position, rolling his shoulders back. "You doubting me?" He smirks, gripping the sides of the fruit like he’s about to perform some kind of ancient ritual. "Because I feel like you’re doubting me."

“No- no, I’m not doubting you. I’m just saying-”

He exhales sharply, placing his hands on the floor for balance. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he tightens his grip. You watch as the muscles in his legs flex, the watermelon shifting ever so slightly under the pressure, the cracks in it becoming more tense.

There’s a beat of silence. Then another.

Another tiny creak.

"Wait—" You barely get the word out before the watermelon explodes.

Watermelon juice explodes everywhere. Across the floor, up Caleb’s arms, splattering your shirt. The halves break apart with a sickening squelch, chunks flying onto the cabinets.

For a long second, neither of you move. Then Caleb, dripping in sticky pink juice, turns to you, smug as hell. “Well?”

You stare at him. Then at the carnage. Then back at him. “Great. Now do my head.” You pop another piece of the melon in your mouth.

“What.” “My head. Crush it with your thighs. It's a thing.” “A thing.” “Mhm. Suffocate me with your thighs. Lemme die with honor.”

Caleb stares at you for a moment, blinking as if processing whether you’re joking or genuinely asking him to... well, suffocate you with his thighs. His lips twitch like he's trying not to laugh, but you can see that he's really considering it.

After a moment, he gets up, pulling you up with him. "Lets get cleaned up then I'll do it."

You blink, looking up at him in confusion. "Wait, seriously?"

He nods, wiping the juice from his chin. "Seriously. But first, let’s not get more fruit juice everywhere. I have standards, you know?" His hand brushes against yours as he tugs you toward the bathroom, his playful demeanor somehow making the whole situation feel... different.

"But—" you begin, incredulous. "You’re actually going to—"

Caleb just laughs. “Besides, I think I’m gonna enjoy this.”

***

Caleb stretches out on the bed, his movements slow and relaxed, his usual playful energy softened into something more gentle now. He props himself up on one arm, looking at you with a little smile. "Well, you said you wanted me to suffocate you with my thighs. So... I'm just gonna take it slow, okay? No rush."

You, on the other hand, find yourself suddenly way more bashful than you expected to be. The way he's looking at you so calmly, like this is just a casual request, catches you off guard. It’s almost like everything that had been funny and carefree just a moment ago shifted into something heavier.

You fidget with the hem of your shirt, your cheeks pink. "I— I didn’t actually think you’d take me seriously," you mutter, your voice quieter now. "I was just messing around."

Caleb chuckles softly, his tone soothing. "I know, but you wanted to try something, and I’m happy to go along with it. No pressure, okay?" He leans back against the pillows, his gaze soft, inviting you to join him in that space of calm. "So, if you're nervous, just let me know. We can take it one step at a time."

You glance at him, still feeling a little caught off guard. Why is this so much harder than I thought? You swallow the nerves and finally sit down beside him, your legs feeling heavier than usual.

"So, um... no crushing skulls or anything, right?" you ask, trying to ease your own tension with a light laugh, but you’re definitely still flustered.

Caleb smiles, his voice almost a whisper now. "No skull crushing. Just... whatever feels right for you." He shifts closer, his warmth close enough that you feel his presence like a weight against your own. "And if you don’t want to go through with it, we’ll stop."

You smack your cheeks, shaking your head. “Okay. I’m ready. Mama didn’t raise no bitch. Crush me.”

Caleb laughs, the sound deep and amused as he watches you hype yourself up. "That’s the spirit," he teases, shaking his head before gently guiding you down. His hands are warm on your shoulders as he eases you onto your back, positioning you carefully between his legs.

You try not to think about how casual he is about this, how his fingers linger for just a second too long on your skin, how his touch is both firm and incredibly gentle at the same time.

"Comfortable?" he asks, looking down at you with the kind of care that makes your stomach flip.

You nod, even though your heart is suddenly pounding way too hard for something that was supposed to be a joke just an hour ago. "Yeah. Totally."

Caleb hums, adjusting his position slightly, his thighs resting on either side of your head without actually applying pressure yet. He leans over you a bit, his grin teasing but his voice soft. "Alright, baby. Deep breath in… and out."

You do as he says, exhaling slowly, your nerves settling just a little. Then, with a careful squeeze, he applies the tiniest bit of pressure.

Your brain short-circuits.

Oh.

You don’t know what you expected—maybe something overwhelming, something suffocating—but instead, it’s Caleb. Steady. Strong. Unshakable. The heat of his skin against yours is distracting, his thighs firm but still gentle, like he’s holding back just to make sure you’re okay.

You blink up at him, and Caleb chuckles at your expression, his fingers brushing against your hair. "You good down there?"

You make a noise��something between a hum and an incoherent help—because suddenly, words are really hard.

His smirk deepens. "What’s that?"

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to sound normal. "I’m fine."

"Yeah?" Caleb tilts his head, his eyes twinkling. "You sure? You’re looking a little…" He gestures vaguely at your face. "Dazed."

You narrow your eyes, mustering what little dignity you have left. "Shut up and do it properly."

Caleb grins. "As you wish."

And then—he squeezes just a little tighter.

Your cheeks burn—not just from the pressure but from the sheer insanity of the situation. Caleb, your sweet, smug, too-hot-for-his-own-good boyfriend, is up there watching you, his thighs snug around your head, very much enjoying this.

You don’t know what’s worse—the way he’s so calm about it or the fact that your brain is rapidly turning to static.

He tilts his head, his fingers absently brushing against your forehead. "You're blushing," he notes, amused. "Feeling okay?"

You let out a strangled noise. "Shut up."

His chuckle vibrates through the air, deep and easy, and for a second, he squeezes just a little tighter—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that he could.

Your breath hitches.

Before you can even process it, Caleb leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead—gentle, sweet, completely at odds with the absolute devastation he’s about to unleash on you.

And then—you’re smushed.

Completely.

Your entire world narrows down to thighs. Caleb’s thighs, warm and unyielding, pressing in on either side of your face like some kind of divine punishment (or blessing—you haven't decided yet).

Your hands instinctively fly up, grabbing onto his legs as if you need something to ground yourself. "Mmph—"

Your eyes widen as the realization hits you like a damn freight train. Oh.

Oh.

Ohhhh….

No wonder he’s such a fan.

This must be what he experiences when he goes down on you. The warmth, the pressure, the overwhelming sensation of being completely surrounded, the absolute helplessness of being surrounded, consumed, smothered in the best way possible—no wonder he’s such a fan of it. You suddenly have a whole new respect for the man’s enthusiasm.

Your fingers tighten slightly on his thighs, not sure whether to push him away or pull him closer. "Oh my god," you mumble, your voice barely a breath.

Caleb, of course, picks up on it instantly. His grin turns downright wicked. "Oh?" He tilts his head, feigning innocence. "Having an epiphany down there?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, groaning. "Shut up, Caleb."

You gape at him, utterly offended as he mocks you in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice.

"Shut up, Caleb," he repeats, fluttering his lashes dramatically like some damsel in distress.

You push at his legs—hard—but the bastard doesn’t even budge. He just grins down at you, thoroughly enjoying himself, and flexes his thighs slightly like he's showing off.

Your cheeks burn all over again, and you refuse to dignify that with an answer. Instead, you reach up, grab his smug face between your hands, and yank him down into a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Caleb makes a surprised noise before immediately melting into it, his hands finding your face in return, palms warm as they cradle your cheeks, his thumbs brushing lightly over your skin. Caleb deepens the kiss, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath his touch.

You swear you can feel him smiling against your lips. Smug bastard.

When you finally pull back, your breaths mingling, his grip on your face lingers, his eyes flickering over you with something dangerously fond.

“…Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, voice low, teasing but undeniably soft. “You definitely love this.”

Your heart stutters, but you refuse to let him win.

You huff, trying to look unimpressed despite the warmth spreading through your entire body. “Shut up, Caleb.”

And the worst part? He just grins.

#hellinistical #pandoras box opened #this is so sweet ty #caleb x reader #caleb fluff #caleb x you

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