In His Wake - snippet
this is part of the long fan fiction im writing about Luke over on my wattpad
its daddy!luke and is set 2015-16 time, with a planned sequel.
unfinished, but nearly done and ive poured my heart and soul into it, id really appreciate it if you checked it out!
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In His Wake
51 | when there's a jolt
ETTA ♛
"Merry Christmas," Luke's back tensed, his muscles growing taut across his skin and he jumped a little, consequently dropping what he was holding in his hands, it clattered down onto the kitchen counter.
He turned, slowly, a scowl on his face, "you scared the shit out of me, fucking hell," but the glare was soon replaced by a frown when Luke scanned her figure up and down, "Merry Christma-you're not wearing my shirt..." he observed, and it was true, Etta had changed the second she woke up because...well, she thought Luke had left and was a little bit angry, disappointed maybe, although she shouldn't have expected any different.
So she took his shirt off, and replaced it with one of her own. But there Luke stood, at half ten in the morning, only in his boxers and focusing deeply on making...
"Are you making pancakes?" Luke ignored this,
"You didn't answer my question."
"You didn't answer mine."
"I asked first."
"Yeah, but mine's more important, are those pancakes, Hemmings?"
"is that my shirt, Brown?"
With an exasperated sigh, she looked down at her feet, embarrassed by why she had changed but she didn't think he would've even noticed, let alone cared enough to question it, "no it's not, I changed."
"Why?" He asked as soon as she'd finished her last word, his jaw clenched and eyes guarded.
"I...it doesn't matter, I mean I was just-it smelled," Etta winced at her stammered, weak excuses, and she could've sworn Luke was amused, but he was doing a great job of fighting a smile.
"It smelled?" His brows raised, tongue poking out to lick at his lips.
"Y-Yeah," of you.
"That's funny," slowly, he approached Etta, squaring up to her and she turned, but he followed and before she could change her path, Luke had her trapped against her fridge, "because you definitely didn't complain last night."
"I-I didn't?" Of course not, dumbass, because it never fucking smelled.
"No, sweetheart, in fact I remember you smiling quite happily when I gave you it, ring a bell?"
"It might," she mumbled, looking down to avoid his piercing stare.
"Really? Well then maybe I'll just have to fuck you again, to jog your memory?" By that time, Luke's hand had crept up from her waist, trailed up the side of her arm, and was now brushing his fingers against her jaw, studying it carefully. Staring at the bruises.
"Um...wh-what?"
Luke smirked, brushing her hair off of her face, "kidding," he hummed, and then placed one hand on the fridge behind her. Using it, he pushed away, and turned back to what he was doing, "so, pancakes, yeah?"
Do that again and I won’t let you leave.
I mean, "yeah, pancakes."
"Good. They'll be done in ten, you could take a shower if you want? You don't need to hang around if you don't want to."
"Okay," she agreed lightly, wondering how Luke had known that she'd want to shower. Then again, considering they were too tired to last night, Etta was in definite need of one.
On her heels, Etta turned, and began to walk out of her kitchen, but Luke's voice stopped her in her tracks, "Etta," he spoke, not bothering to spin around to face her, instead, his head moved slightly to the side, as if he was looking out of the corner of his eyes, "when you're finished, be a good girl and put my shirt back on."
