× ... daniel 🌑

The carnival was as lively as ever, filled with the laughter of children and adults alike, the screams of those on the terribly put-together rides, and the conversation between friends and family.

The rev of motorcycle engines.

The carnival was only in town for a few more weeks, arriving early summer and leaving early fall.

You didn’t originally want to go, preferring to avoid the high prices and scams. 

But friends can be very convincing when they mention a handsome motorcyclist.

It took a while of begging, but after finally agreeing to their pleas, they dragged you to the carnival, specifically a small tent near the back.

You all rush in late, the stunt show having already started by the time you're situated near an empty corner of the tent.

The announcer’s voice booms through the tent, showing off every move, commenting on the trio as they work.

Standing in the small tent, your friends on both sides, your eyes held wonder as you watched the three motorcyclists, promptly dubbed Luke and the heartthrobs.

They bobbed and weaved around each other in the ball cage, the voice of the announcer becoming background noise as one even goes upside down, your amazement only growing.

So entranced with what was before you, the motorcyclists carefully left the ball cage one by one. It took one of your friends gripping onto your arm and dragging you out before you finally snapped out of it.

But your gaze remains over your shoulder, watching as the group of three leaves on the other side, barely catching a glimpse of blond hair as he removes his helmet.

Your group of friends all stand together outside the tent, their words going in one ear and out the other, your mind still recalling the events of just the past few minutes.

Eyes wandering over the different groups of people exiting the tents, your eyes find a man standing off to the side in the middle of a group of kids. His blond hair instantly catches your eyes, as do the tattoos that litter every inch of his skin.

He stood, an unlit cigarette limply sitting between his lips, muttering something to the group of children while signing a piece of paper.

His eyes glance up, sharp and blue, as if sensing you staring at him.

Your breath hitches, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before you quickly look away, following after your group of friends as they head towards the area of booths that held the corny carnival games, their voices talking about which stuffed animal they wanted to win.

A soft chuckle follows you as you go.

The next night, after hours of mental debate, pacing back and forth in front of your bed, you decide to head back to the carnival. 

Without your friends this time.

You spend way too long checking yourself in the bathroom mirror before you leave the house, straightening the skirt you wore, adjusting every strand of your hair until you find it perfect.

The lowering sun in the bedroom window was your tell that you needed to hurry.

The show, once again, had already started by the time you had entered the same tent as last night, finding yourself front and center as you watch the stunt show with the same wonder-filled eyes.

The roar of engines and the shout of the announcer fill your ears, but just as last night, they all become background noise to the show in front of you, your eyes following the rider with the red jacket.

Every cell in your body tells you that it's him.

The confidence that oozed from every upside-down turn, like he knew he was putting on a good show with every move he made.

Yeah, that was him.

The show ended as quickly as it started, your body being led by the group of people as they head out of the tent, your eyes shooting over your shoulder multiple times to watch as he heads out the other way, his form hidden behind the tent flap as it closes.

You quickly step off to the side once the cooling night air hits your face, away from the crowd as they disperse into different parts of the carnival. Your eyes move without you telling them to, looking around for something, but what catches your eye is the group of kids that run past you.

Their hands held pieces of paper and a myriad of pens or pencils, their smiles as bright as the sun, with their cheeks rosy, excitement flowing off their little bodies in waves as they made it towards their destination.

Him.

That blond hair and those sharp, blue eyes. The tattoos that were painted on every inch of his skin.

He entertains the kids with the same indifference as last night, signing their papers and mumbling soft words down to them. This time, a lit cigarette was held loosely by his lips, the smoke framing his face as it flowed out of the burning end and up towards the night sky.

And just like last night, his eyes flick up in your direction, catching your gaze before you can look away.

His lips quirk into a grin, silent and teasing like the cat that caught the canary, and he sends the kids off with few words.

Your heart was already racing as you stared off in a random direction, feigning interest in the group of game booths that were in front of you, your cheeks already warming to the touch at being caught in your staring.

Crunching of grass under boots only causes your heart to skip, your hands gripping onto the fabric of your skirt as you will your mind not to make a fool of yourself.

“Hey.”

His voice was a rumble as he made his way to stand beside you, his body just close enough that you could smell him.

Motor oil, cigarettes, and a faintness of cologne.

After a few moments, your eyes finally flick up to meet his gaze, finding him staring intently at you, his cigarette glowing between his fingers and that same grin upon his lips.

“Hello.”

Soft voice.

That’s what instantly caught his attention.

Just a word spoken from between your glossed lips, and he could already feel the sugar rush that bled through his very veins.

It was addictive.

Everything about him was rough; everything about him screamed trouble. He wasn’t made to be around a girl like you.

Soft and sweet, your eyes held a look in them that just screamed to him that you shouldn’t have even been here alone.

But he liked indulging himself every once in a while.

He takes a breath of his cigarette, flicking the ashes beside him. He turns his head away from you, blowing the smoke up into the air, before his gaze quickly moves back to you, smoke still billowing from his lips and nostrils.

“Name’s Luke, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

You did.

The announcer said his name almost every other sentence.

But that didn’t fall from your lips. Instead, you give him your own name, watching as he takes another drag before your name leaves him in a gentle hum.

It sent a jolt through your spine at the way he said your name.

A word you had heard your entire life, and Luke said it in a way that made it feel like it was truly special.

Flicking down his cigarette, he stomps it out with his boot, his hands stuffing into the pockets of his jeans as he looks into your eyes, his grin only widening with his next words.

“Want a ride?”

—

This was not the ride you imagined Luke talking about.

But, oh, did it feel so good.

You sat, perched on his lap, his cock nestled deep inside you.

Underneath you, he rested against the pillows, that same grin upon his lips curling around the fresh cigarette that he had lit just before, as his hands rested warmly against your waist.

Your thighs tremble on either side of his hips, hands planted firmly on his chest as you take a moment to get used to his size.

One of his hands lifts from your hips as he takes a drag from the cigarette, blowing the cloud above him instead of in your face, despite how badly he wanted to.

Despite himself, knowing he should give you as long as you needed, he can’t help the way his hips buck at the squeezing of your walls around him, smile widening at the yelped moan that bubbles past your lips at the movement.

“Come on, pretty. Give those hips a swirl.”

His voice was a drunken hum, even though not a drop of alcohol had passed his lips, his hand returning to your hip.

Luke was drunk on you, on the feeling of you around him, on top of him.

Eyes half-lidded and biting your bottom lip, your perfectly manicured nails dig ever so slightly into his pecs as you begin to slowly roll your hips, leaving him with a delicious sting that he would chase forever.

Luke’s head falls back, releasing a huff of smoke as your hips move, causing you to squeeze him even more.

“That’s it, pretty girl.”

His words were released in a drawl, fingers digging into your hips enough that you would find beautiful bruises in the shape of his hands the next morning.

Keeping his grip tight, he helps guide your movements, watching the way your eyes roll back when he occasionally bucks his hips.

His grin turns wolfish as he feels your walls tighten in a way he has grown familiar with, hand slipping from your waist to your front as he begins to thumb at that sensitive bundle of nerves, rewarding him with a whimpered moan as your body tries to curl in on itself at the sudden addition of pleasure.

“Luke… Luke…”

“Sound so pretty, baby. Let go for me, yeah? Cum for me, pretty.”

A mix of moans and whines escapes you as he feels that familiar rush, the tightening of your walls, your nails digging enough to draw little specks of blood.

He wasn’t far behind, having come so close just from resting inside you earlier, with just a few more bucks of his hips, he groans your name around his cigarette as he releases deep inside you.

Your body slumps against him, body instantly exhausted from release. With your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat was the sound that lulled you to sleep.

Luke stares down at you, silently shocked at how easy it was for you to fall asleep. Something curls deep within his heart at the sight of it, his fingers slowly curling in your hair as his other hand stubs out his cigarette.

A feeling he didn’t want to ignite.

—

When you woke the next morning, the bed was cold and Luke was nowhere to be seen. Shakily, you gather yourself and your things, looking around his trailer once more.

It was stupid.

Leaving behind a small note with your number on it and your name (just in case he forgot).

Giving yourself false hope as you walk home, alone, legs trembling and embarrassment bleeding through every cell in your body.

But the call never came. The phone never rang.

Your heart dropped as you heard about it while walking through the store. The carnival was gone.

And with it… him.

Used.

That’s the word that echoes through your mind every time you think of that night with him. Of his blond hair and blue eyes. Of his words he whispered in smoke.

A mistake.

That’s the word that echoes through your mind as you stand in front of the mirror every night, watching as it slowly begins to grow with a life that was never meant to be.

You told your friends in a mixture of sobs and cries, realizing that your life would never be the same after a night that you could never take back.

They held you tight, whispered their support, and made sure that you knew that they would be there every step of the way.

Why need a father who was probably a deadbeat when the baby would have had such a large, supportive family already?

You hear that first little heartbeat at a doctor’s visit, and the second word instantly melts from your mind.

The night might have been a mistake… but this baby was not.

And you steel yourself, already making a plan on how you would continue.

Without Luke.

—

The carnival was back in town.

A year had passed.

Ninth months of struggling through a pregnancy. A birth. And a little girl who was 3 months old.

Of course, she had to be born with his blond hair and blue eyes.

At least she had your nose and smile.

She was currently held against your chest, wrapped in a soft length of cloth to keep her from slipping, something your friend had seen in a magazine and taught you how to do.

You had been walking around, watching as her small eyes took in all the sights and sounds, your friends playing every game they could to win her more stuffed animals to fill her room.

The tent that held the revving of engines was one you avoided quite heavily; the trailer that you remember vividly was one you made sure to be out of sight from at all times.

Standing back, you watch as two friends work together to throw darts and pop as many balloons as possible, aiming to get the biggest teddy bear that was zip-tied to the frame, the smile on your lips soft.

They cared for the little girl against your chest as much as you did.

Behind you, you hear your name breathed out, like it was in reverence, like it was a word to be treasured.

There you find him.

You had been so busy watching your friends play that you had completely missed that the roaring of engines no longer echoes through the carnival.

That blond hair.

Those blue eyes, softening at the sight of you.

They flick down to the infant wrapped against your chest, taking her small form in, taking in the instant similarities.

“Is she-”

“Yours?”

Luke’s eyes move up to meet yours, looking over your face, watching as it switches between a myriad of emotions: regret, anger, sadness, before finally landing on something calm.

“Yeah… she is.”

He looks like he was going to say something, but is interrupted as your friends call your name, quickly swarming around you with heated glares thrown his way.

Luke wasn’t even given a chance as your lead away, more glares thrown over their shoulders, his eyes watching as you disappear behind a booth, his shoulders slowly drooping.

He had a daughter.

—

Luke’s motorcycle engine roars as he stops in front of a small house, quaint and so distinctly you, kicking out the stand and killing the engine.

Nerves roll through his entire body, more than had ever done so before.

He was used to one-night stands, never looking back and riding into the wind, never to speak to the woman again.

But then there was you.

Soft and sweet, you.

You, who had left your number in his trailer with a little heart by your name.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he slowly makes his way to the door, giving three sharp knocks and then shoving his hands in his pockets.

A slight shuffle is heard inside, your voice muffled as you speak to somebody, before the door swings open.

And the air is knocked from his chest.

Hell, he knew you were pretty, but seeing you now was downright ethereal.

Even with your hair a mess, even with the spit-up staining your shirt, you had a certain glow about you.

The little girl lying in your arms squirms slightly, her small fist gripping onto your shirt as she releases the softest of coos.

Luke instantly finds himself wanting to take a picture.

He watches as your eyes shift at the sight of him, not expecting his form to be what was taking up the small area of your porch.

“Luke?”

Your voice was still as soft as he remembered it, without the sounds of the carnival and your friends to drown it out.

“I wanted to see you.”

Your grip tightens around the small girl, a protective grip as you try to put up more invisible walls between you.

“You didn’t even call-”

“I screwed up, okay.” He interrupts you, grabbing a cigarette for comfort and placing it between his lips, not yet lighting it, “You were this sweet thing, and I always screw up anything good for me. So I just… stayed away.”

His confession was punched out, something he didn’t enjoy confessing to somebody in the open, but damnit, he wanted this life.

No… he needed it

Needed you and her in it.

“How did you even find me?”

You shift a little on your feet, adjusting your hold on the infant as her eyes finally drift over to Luke.

Eyes that looked so much like his, but brighter, so full of life.

“Will you hate me if I say I cornered one of your friends?”

A sigh rolls past your lips, having a feeling you knew which one spilled, they were always easy to cave under pressure.

You’d need words with them after this.

Your eyes stare up at him, before moving up and down, taking in his form with the slightest quirk of your lips.

“You won’t stop… will you?”

“Not a chance, pretty.”

His answer comes quickly, and he is sure of it.

Glancing down at the girl in your arms, you watch as she looks from Luke to up at you, giving you the smallest of smiles on her lips. Your shoulders relax ever so slightly before your gaze moves back to Luke.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Yes.”

That answer comes even quicker.

You wait until he shoves the cigarette into his pocket, carefully placing the precious bundle into his arms, making sure they are in the correct position to hold her. He seemed weary of holding her, like he was afraid that he was doing something wrong.

But his blue eyes soften even more, if that was possible, his voice softening to a whisper.

Crossing your arms, you lean against the doorframe, watching with a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips.