Warings: Heavy swearing, intense Thad Castle energy, non-stop screaming, aggressive consumption of mojitos, public displays of affection, and zero boundaries.
Word Count: ???
A/N: Finished Blue mountain state sucks there's nothing about it but i had this thought(Reader is described as petite I'm trying to widen my descriptions)
✨️Masterlist✨️
The Goat House was a war zone. Bass rattled the cheap drywall so hard that empty beer cans were vibrating off the kitchen counters. Somewhere in the backyard, a freshman was screaming because he’d just been tackled into a inflatable pool full of lime Jell-O. It was a standard Friday night, completely unhinged and completely loud.
You stood near the bar, looking entirely detached from the absolute chaos around you. Your gorgeous complexion that sat perfectly in that middle ground radiant, glowing under the strobe lights, with your hair styled in neat, bouncing curls that framed your face. You were also tiny. Petite. Barely cracking five-foot-two on a good day, with a small frame that made you look like a literal doll compared to the absolute monsters that made up the Blue Mountain State football roster.
You were just trying to take a sip of your drink when the front door didn't just open it practically flew off its hinges.
"THE GOATS ARE HUNGRY TONIGHT!"
Thad Castle stormed into the living room. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He was wearing his football pants, his cleats clacking loudly on the ruined hardwood floor, and a captain's C written directly onto his bare chest in thick, black sharpie. He looked entirely insane. His jaw was clenched so tight his teeth were practically grinding into dust, and his eyes swept the room like a silverback gorilla looking for a fight.
Then, his eyes locked onto you.
The terrifying, psychotic look on his face instantly vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unadulterated, manic glee.
"MY LITTLE POCKET PRINCESS!" Thad bellowed, his voice easily booming over the 120-decibel trap music blasting from the speakers.
Before you could even set your drink down, six-foot-three and two hundred and forty pounds of pure, terrifying muscle sprinted across the living room. The crowd of freshmen parted like the Red Sea, terrified of being trampled by the star linebacker. You didn't even have time to brace yourself before Thad’s massive, tree-trunk arms wrapped completely around your waist.
With a loud, guttural grunt, Thad hoisted you straight up into the air.
He didn't just pick you up; he lifted you like a trophy, your feet dangling a good three feet off the ground. Your small hands immediately grabbed onto his broad, sweaty shoulders for balance, your fingers sinking into the hard muscle of his back.
"Thad! Put me down, you absolute psycho!" you laughed, though you weren't actually mad. This was just what happened whenever you were within a ten-foot radius of him. The man was completely, utterly obsessed with your size.
"NEVER!" Thad screamed back, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck. He nuzzled his face against your skin aggressively, like a giant, over-enthusiastic golden retriever, his sharp jawline scraping against your collarbone. "You are too small! You're like a little teacup! If I put you down on the floor, some idiot freshman is going to step on you and crush you, and then I’ll have to murder their entire family!"
"I can walk perfectly fine, Thad," you said, winding your fingers through his messy blonde hair as he carried you across the kitchen. He was holding you effortlessly against his chest, one massive forearm locked under your thighs to keep you secure, while his other hand splayed flat against your back, pulling your small frame completely flush against his heated skin.
"No! The floor is for plebeians!" Thad declared, walking straight over to the kitchen island. He didn't put you down on a chair. Instead, he carefully set you down on top of the counter, keeping his hands firmly clamped on your hips so you wouldn't move. Even sitting on the counter, you were barely eye-level with him.
Thad leaned his weight forward, trapping you between his massive arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, his blue eyes entirely dilated as he stared down at you. He reached up, his thick, calloused thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone. The contrast was ridiculous his hand was practically the size of your entire face, his pale skin contrasting beautifully against your smooth complexion.
"Look at you," Thad muttered, his voice dropping from a scream to a intense, vibrating whisper. "You’re so tiny. Your wrists are like toothpicks. I could snap you in half. It makes me want to protect you. It makes me want to rip someone's throat out."
"Please don't rip anyone's throat out," you smiled, reaching out to cup his jaw. You ran your fingers over his jawline, completely amused by how intense he was. "Are you going to get me a drink, or are you just gonna stand here and squeeze me all night?"
"Both!" Thad yelled, turning around and grabbing a giant plastic pitcher filled with a neon-green liquid. "I made mojitos! With real mint! I hand-crushed the mint with my own knuckles to extract the maximum amount of flavor and aggression!"
He poured some into a red solo cup and handed it to you. You took a sip it was actually surprisingly good, sweet and heavily alcoholic. "Wow. Good job, Thad."
Thad’s chest puffed out so hard you thought he was going to split his sharpie captain's C in half. "Of course it's good! I don't half-ass anything! Especially not for my girl!"
Before you could even finish your second sip, Thad’s hands were back on you. He couldn't help himself. He was completely addicted to the physical sensation of handling you. He grabbed your waist again, easily sliding you off the counter and wrapping your legs around his waist. You let out a small gasp, holding your coffee-cup tight so it wouldn't spill as he carried you back out into the living room, completely unbothered by the hundred people watching.
Alex Moran walked past, holding a beer, and stopped to look at the two of you. "Thad, seriously? Are you ever gonna let her walk on her own two feet?"
"Shut up, Moran!" Thad snapped, glare-bombing him. "She doesn't need to walk! Walking is a waste of energy! I am her chariot! Go back to being a backup quarterback and letting everyone down!"
Alex just rolled his eyes and walked away, completely used to the madness.
Thad carried you over to the dirty leather couch in the corner of the room. He sat down heavily, but he didn't put you next to him. He pulled you right onto his lap. Because of your petite frame, you basically disappeared against him. You sat sideways across his massive thighs, your head resting against his chest, right over his pounding heartbeat.
This was where the heavy petting started. Thad had absolutely no chill, and when he was in "affection mode," it was a full-body experience.
His huge, heavy hands started running up and down your bare legs, his palms warm against your skin. He traced the curve of your calf, his long fingers easily wrapping all the way around your ankle with room to spare. "Look at this," he whispered loudly into your ear, his breath hot. "My thumb and my middle finger touch. I can lock my hands around your leg. You're like a little doll."
"You've told me that like fifty times tonight, Thad," you giggled, leaning back against his shoulder.
"Because it’s a miracle!" Thad insisted, his hand moving up to grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh firmly but carefully. He was hyper-aware of his own strength, always balancing his psychotic football energy with a weirdly gentle caution whenever he was touching you. He ran his hand up your torso, his palm flattening against your stomach, feeling the contrast of your soft skin against his rock-hard, athletic build.
He leaned down, burying his face in your curls again, inhaling deeply. "You smell like cocoa butter and vanilla. It’s driving me crazy. It makes me want to do ten thousand squats."
"Go do them later," you murmured, tilting your head back to give him better access.
Thad didn't hesitate. He started pressing heavy, unhurried kisses along your jawline, his lips surprisingly soft for a guy who spent four hours a day smashing his face into plastic helmets. He kissed his way down to your collarbone, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you even tighter against his lap. His hands moved under the hem of your shirt, his large palms dragging up your ribs, mapping out every inch of your small frame. He was completely entranced by the sheer daintiness of you.
"You're mine," Thad growled softly against your skin, his hands moving up to cup your shoulders, his thumbs massaging the tension out of your neck. "If any of these regular-sized losers even look at you wrong, I'm going to throw them into the sun. I mean it. I’ll clear the whole room."
"I know you will, big guy," you said, reaching up to pull his face down to yours.
When Thad kissed you, it wasn't a gentle, polite affair. It was intense, possessive, and full of teeth, his massive frame completely enveloping yours. He cupped the back of your head with his giant hand, his fingers tangling in your curls, holding you perfectly still as he deeply tasted you. His other hand stayed locked onto your waist, his fingers digging into your hip bones, anchoring you to him like you were the only stable thing in his chaotic, drug-fueled, football-obsessed universe.
The heavy petting continued for twenty minutes right there on the couch. Thad’s hands never stopped moving tracing your spine, running down your arms, marveling at how small your hands looked resting against his massive chest. He was completely obsessed with the physical proof that he was bigger, stronger, and completely capable of carrying you away from the rest of the world whenever he felt like it.
Suddenly, Sammy Cacciatore ran past the couch wearing a full pirate outfit, being chased by Craig Shilo holding a fire extinguisher.
Thad didn't even blink. He just kept his arms locked around you, his chin resting on top of your head, a deep, satisfied rumble vibrating in his chest as he held his favorite, perfect little doll right where she belonged.
okay so boom..
I'm a 19 year old black girl navigating through college. i love coffee, red bulls, and boba, they're always my go to drinks. and basically I'm just here to share my deepest thoughts with you. JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE. yes I smoke and drink (4/20 friendly lol).
ps: if I say any of my kinks in this blog lets not judge okay :)
interest/fandoms: black girl everything, anime (AOT, Sk8, JJK, ect), chase atlantic, the weeknd, Lana del ray, SZA, pierce the veil, Waterparks, any genre of music actually, reading (dystopian, romance, thriller/horror, YA, fantasy), gym, TVD, TWD, Grey's Anatomy, Merlin (tv series), Blue Mountain State, Roblox, BL, manga, monster high, dance, A03, wattpad, sims 4, Kpop (enhypen, EXO, BTS, etc), WWE, marvel, GOT, musicals (hamilton, heathers wicked, etc) any dystopian movies, fashion, AND A WHOLE LOT MORE.
- Im just a multifandom girl and baddie :)
