Note:This is a gift for my naughtiest Thaddeus lovers😝
Cw:nsfw,mdni,mdom, slightly yandere,fsub, jealousy, power/size play, degradation,spanking,orgasm denial, after care
⚠️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK⚠️
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Two damn hours since your last message, claiming you'd be home in five minutes.
"Five my ass," Thaddeus muttered, refreshing your chat over and over.The repetitive tapping of his fingers on the phone screen echoed through the quiet room. Each refresh felt like a punch of impatience. The air seemed to hum with his irritation, thickening around him like a storm about to break.
This time, he wasn’t going to let it slide.
The front door cracked open, and Thaddeus remained standing in the dim glow of the living room, his eyes fixed on the figure stumbling inside. The sound of your heels clicking against the pavement was sharp in the quiet. He watched as you drunkenly shrugged off your jacket. He glanced at the clock: 4:45 AM...
You were late—too late. His fingers clenched into fists, and the tension in his jaw was unmistakable.
"Had fun playing dress-up?" His voice was low, sarcastic, trembling with anger—and something more he couldn’t quite control.
"Oh my God! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you exclaimed, jumping at the sudden sound of his voice filling the room.
Thaddeus studied you as you shrugged off your jacket. His gaze flickered over your dress. It was too much—too tight, too revealing, a constant reminder of how others would be looking at you. The dress hugged your curves in a way that made his stomach tighten. Part of him was mesmerized by your beauty, always confident and smiling. But the darker part of him wanted to lash out at anyone who dared to look at you the way he did. Why did you have to wear that tonight? He didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to feel possessive, but it was hard not to when the image of other hands on you flashed through his mind, and it burned. It wasn’t just jealousy; it was the helplessness of knowing he couldn’t control you. He hated this feeling—hated how it made him overthink everything.
When you finally looked up to face him, you could sense the storm building behind his eyes.
"Yes, I had a lot of fun with my friends," you answered nonchalantly as you made your way upstairs. His eyes burned into your back as the sound of his footsteps followed you into the bedroom.
"You were supposed to come home earlier." His words came out colder than he intended.
You liked watching him unravel. Watching him lose his 'good guy' facade was intoxicating. His calm mask cracked, and beneath it, something darker took shape. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with restrained fury. There was something so alluring about him like this, raw, untamed—no longer pretending. The real him was a dangerous allure, and you found yourself craving more.
You shrugged, letting the words roll off. “You know how it is—time flies when you’re dancing.”
You couldn’t help but lean into it, wanting to challenge him further, to see just how far he’d go. You knew this was dangerous. That his intensity was suffocating, but it turned you on more than you cared to admit.
"I also received a lot of compliments tonight," you added, taking off the heavy jewelry. It was true, though—several guys had tried to hit on you.
The way his nostrils flared told you everything you needed to know. He was losing it, and you were enjoying every second of it.
Thaddeus’s hand shot out, pulling you toward him. His breath was heavy against your ear. He hated that he couldn’t control these emotions. But the thought of losing you was far worse than the anger consuming him. The physical sting of his touch mirrored the ache inside him.
"Stop playing games with me," he growled, his voice thick with frustration. His words were barely controlled, a warning, a demand. "You think you can just—run around like this? I won’t let you."
He leaned in closer to you, a sour smile on his face."You're mine. Every part of you. Every thought you have, every breath you take—you’re mine. Heart and soul." With that, he claimed your mouth. His kiss was rough, filled with frustration.
A series of soft moans escaped your lips, lost in the heat of his mouth as his hands gripped you, spinning you and slamming you gently but firmly against the cold wall. The shift in power was electric, a heady mix of vulnerability and desire flooding your senses. Each movement felt both controlled and reckless, as though he couldn’t decide whether to devour you or protect you from the intensity he was unleashing.
Thaddeus bit your lower lip before pulling away, his breath ragged, eyes dark. He stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to decipher something that eluded him. His hands pressed against the wall beside your head, but they trembled—not from anger, but from the ache of wanting you—needing you, in a way he couldn’t control. He was losing his grip, and it terrified him more than he wanted to admit. He let out a frustrated breath, and for a second, you could see him—vulnerable, unsure.
“I’m too selfish to share you with anyone else,” he said, his voice strained, each word feeling like it took everything out of him. “I don’t want to lose you.” The words hung between them, heavy with desperation.
He exhaled sharply, as if the confession was choking him. “You’ve become my obsession.” His breath caught, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence.
He leaned in, barely audible now, as though the truth was too painful to speak. “It’s driving me fucking crazy.” His voice cracked, the words slipping through his chest like something breaking apart inside him.
You could smell the faint scent of his cologne, musky and rich, a stark contrast to the sharp, metallic tang of your own arousal that hung in the air between you.
You wanted him—just as badly as he wanted you.
With gentleness, you cupped his face. “You’re the only one I want, Thaddeus. You’re everything I need. I don’t care about anyone else—just you.”
Those words weren’t meaningless: there is no other man who could compare to Thaddeus in your eyes. You fell in love with his soul before you even touched his skin.
No matter his dangerous job, the countless fights, or the many mood swings you both endure, you’re always there for each other. Because this is love: you can love someone and still not know how to express it perfectly. You learn how to love each other because love is a journey.
And you will never give up on him.
It will always be Thaddeus.
Because he never gives up on you.
He picked you up, carrying you to the bed, and laid you down gently, claiming your lips once again.
The sound of his labored breathing mixed with the wet, frantic noises of your kiss, each movement coming faster, harder, as if time itself was slipping away from both of you.
“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his lips trailing down your collarbone. “I love you.”
He pressed his forehead gently against yours, his breath shallow.
“We belong to each other,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. But then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he continued, “You’ve been a bad girl.” He smirked mockingly. “I need to punish you.”
In mere seconds, he pulled you over his lap, lifting up the little fabric that was "covering" your ass.
"Wha-what are you doing?" you said, trying to pull down the dress.
"I'm giving you exactly what you need, doll face," he said seductively, his hand moving urgently as it smacked sharply against your bottom, making you yelp in surprise.
The sting of his hand against your skin sent a wave of sharp heat through you. Thaddeus paused, taking in the mark he'd left. His hand lingered against your flesh before delivering another hard spank.
He stopped for a moment to take in your bruised flesh. "You know... you look good with my handprints all over your ass," he said, laughing.
"W-wait," you said, flustered, hiding your face. The sting of his touch surged through you, a confusing mix of pain and an overwhelming desire to feel more. It wasn’t just physical anymore—it was a shift deep inside, where need and defiance collided.
"Baby, look at me," his voice softened, his brow furrowing as he studied you, his concern evident. "Do you want me to stop?" He feared he might have pushed you too far.
You met his gaze, your eyes betraying what your lips couldn't say. His look deepened as your body responded to him in a way you couldn't ignore—wanting more, craving it. Embarrassment tugged at your pride as you shook your head slightly, not ready to voice the truth. Too proud to admit how much you needed him to push you further.
"Use your mouth, pretty girl," he chuckled darkly, pausing to admire the mark he had left on your skin.
His voice was low, dangerous, his eyes burning into you as he delivered another sharp spank. "You’ll take everything I give you, just like the good little toy you are, won't you?" he murmured, his words heavy, as if testing the limits between pleasure and pain. His hand rested on your skin, his touch both possessive and delicate, demanding your submission without a single word.
You bit your lip, nodding as you struggled to suppress the quiet whimpers escaping you. The thought of his rough hands spanking you sent a shiver down your spine.
The sharp crack of his hand against your skin reverberated through the room, filling the silence with its sting. Your gasp echoed back at you, a mix of surprise and anticipation.
"Oh? Looks like someone enjoys being degraded," he chuckled. Despite your innocent appearance, he knew how much of a little brat you were: always trying to challenge him only to get your guts rearranged.
There’s a part of you that loves how he takes control—how his strength, his dominance, makes you feel so small, so claimed. But there’s another part of you that hates how much you crave it, how much you need it. You’re not supposed to want to be controlled. You’re supposed to be your own person, independent. But every time he touches you like this, you forget about everything else. The heat of his hands, the possessiveness in his kiss—it makes you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be. And you can’t stop wanting more.
You could feel the bruise forming where his hand had landed, the mark of his possession still burning. His fingers traced over the newly-formed imprint, sending a jolt of mixed emotions through you.
"Fuck..." he slid his thumb under your panties. "You're fucking wet." He began circling your sensitive clit, emptying your mind. You didn't care anymore, and the moans you tried so hard to keep in left your mouth.
You were a mess—a wet, sloppy mess—your hair obscuring your view as you whimpered.
"This is what you wanted, right?" he murmured against your ear. His words were a challenge, but beneath the teasing, there was something else—an attempt to figure you out, as if he wasn’t entirely sure who had the power anymore.
Your clit ached so much it was almost unbearable. You needed his touch right there—and without shame, you started grinding eagerly against his thumb.
Thaddeus smirked as he felt your body tense, your orgasm right on the edge.
Finally, he slid a finger into your needy cunt, fingering you fast and hard as he kept rubbing your clit.
"Ughh! Ah!" you opened your legs more, bucking against his passionate touch.
"Not yet, doll face," he teased, slowing his movements and rubbing your clit more gently.
You pouted, tears building in your eyes. He was edging you, and you couldn't take it anymore. You needed that sweet release.
"You're going to come when I say so," he commanded.
You began begging, "Please, Thaddeus, please." You looked over your shoulder, giving him pleading eyes. "I need it." Your nails dug into his arms as you tried to hold back.
"Tell me you're sorry for making me jealous," he demanded. "For making me lose control like this."
You nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry." Thaddeus, satisfied, started fingering you mercilessly, in and out, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars.
"You're mine, and I'll keep reminding you of that until you understand," he said, speeding up his movements.
"Yes! Yes!" you screamed as your orgasm hit you, but suddenly, Thaddeus stopped his lewd touch, ruining your climax. You protested, your desperation clear.
"Don’t look at me like that..." he said, smirking devilishly. "That’s your punishment, doll face." He gave you one last hard spank, enjoying the needy look in your eyes.
The passion had left you breathless, but now the quiet was filling in the spaces with something else—something more fragile.
"Come here," he said, sitting you in his lap, as if he was babying you. He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace that was protective, almost as if he was trying to shield you from the storm he'd just unleashed.
As you began to relax in his arms, you noticed the way his touch had changed. There was no longer any urgency, no rawness in his movements—just the steady comfort of someone who cared deeply and wanted to protect you.
"You’re safe," Thaddeus murmured. "I’ll take care of you now."
He placed a soft kiss on your temple as his hand caressed your head.His scent wrapped around you, a warm, comforting presence. His skin smelled like him—familiar and safe. The sharpness of his cologne had faded into something softer, more intimate, like he was home
"I’m here," Thaddeus repeated softly, his voice like a promise. "We’re okay."
There’s a tenderness in the way he holds you now, like he’s protecting you from everything else. And in that soft silence, you realize it’s not just the heat of the moment that matters—it’s this: the gentle calm after the storm, where love is a promise, unspoken but understood, wrapping you both in a peace you never knew you needed.
As you drifted into a peaceful slumber, the last thing you heard was the steady beat of his heart, and the feeling of being cared for, deeply and completely.
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