Daddy Issues

Closer than ever

It was past midnight, but neither of them had moved.

The room was quiet - too quiet. The kind of silence that seemed to hum with unsaid things, with unspent energy. Aleks lay on her side, one hand tracing slow, meaningless shapes on Steve’s bare chest. Her leg was hooked over his, her skin hot against his thigh. He hadn’t spoken for a while, but she could feel the tension in his body - tight, still, like he was holding something back.

She looked up at him.

“Are you thinking?” she asked softly.

He blinked. “Always.”

“About her?”

Steve didn’t answer right away. Then: “Not anymore.”

Aleks shifted closer, her face brushing against his jaw. “I want you to think about me now.”

He turned to face her, their noses almost touching. “I am thinking about you. Aleks… I haven’t stopped.”

Her lips curved faintly, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes - need, deeper than before, a kind of hunger that wasn’t just physical. It was the need to be chosen, completely, without doubt.

“I want to feel you,” she whispered. “All of you. I want you so close there’s no part of me you’re not touching.”

Steve’s took a deep inward breath. God, she was young. Not just in years, but in the way she asked for what she wanted without shame. There was no armour with Aleks - just raw longing.

“Are you sure?” he murmured.

She nodded, her voice a breath. “I don’t want space tonight. I don’t want distance. I want to melt into you.”

That did it.

He pulled her to him with sudden urgency, their mouths crashing together, breath mixing, hands desperate. She climbed over him, straddling his hips like it was instinct. And maybe it was. Their bodies remembered something their minds were still trying to process: that this - this - was where everything made sense. The world didn’t exist beyond the warmth of skin and the tangle of limbs and the way their hearts raced when they kissed too long.

Aleks moaned softly into his mouth, grinding her hips down, chasing the heat building between them.

“Daddy…” she breathed, that single word laced with desire and need and trust.

His hands slid under her shirt - his shirt - fingers skating along her spine, coaxing goosebumps from her skin. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He exhaled sharply.

“You drive me mad,” he whispered, mouth at her throat now. “Do you know that?”

“Good,” she said, gasping as his lips moved lower, his tongue trailing fire. “I want you to go mad for me.”

Her body arched into him, pliant, eager. Every kiss was a promise. Every touch was a reassurance: I’m still here. I’m still yours.

They took their time. It wasn’t hurried or frantic - it was worshipful. Steve kissed every inch of her skin like he needed to memorize it, as if touching her was the only way to convince himself she wouldn’t disappear.

Aleks responded with equal intensity - kissing him deeply, her hands all over him, clutching his back, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer every time he tried to pull back. She didn’t want breathing room. She wanted his weight, his scent, his voice in her ear.

“I love you,” she whispered as their bodies moved together, as the rhythm built and spiraled into something that blurred the line between pain and pleasure. “I love you, Daddy, I need you.”

Her words broke into whimpers as he moved inside her, slow and deep, filling the silence between them with the sounds of skin and breath and whispered names. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders like she was terrified of falling apart.

Steve was barely holding it together. Her tightness, the warmth of her, the way she looked at him like he was the center of the universe - it was almost too much. Almost.

“Look at me,” he said, voice low and rough.

She did. Eyes wide, vulnerable, pupils blown with desire and something deeper.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said, thrusting gently, drawing a moan from her throat. “You hear me? You’re mine. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes again, even as her body climbed higher toward release. “I’m yours,” she breathed. “I don’t want anything else.”

And when she came - loud and trembling and clinging to him like he was air - Steve followed with a groan, burying his face in her neck, overwhelmed by how much he felt for her.

After, she curled against him, skin flushed and sticky, heart still pounding.

Neither of them spoke for a while. There was no need.

Steve kissed her forehead, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel lost.