#DatSnippetTho

[delicateartisantrash]

Chapter Excerpt: LS Book 2 - WTCBS

I sure FUCKING HOPE this is a book 2 excerpt or imma actually die of thirst

;) the scene snippet itself is technically sfw.... but seeing as it's the intro the smut scene with Knockout, it carries overt sexual themes.

I decided to share this one on my tumblr for everyone instead of the Ko-fi as a monthly reward perk, because i waaaaaasn't quite sure if it'd be allowed on there, so enjoy another preview ;3

Snippet below the cut~

You freeze in front of the kitchen sink at the sound of quiet, familiar mechanical noises behind you, followed by the softest --tink-k, tink-k, tink-k-- of Knockout’s pedes on the tile. The faint notes of alien music his engine and mechanical systems make would go unnoticed by most, but your sensitive ears pick it up over the white noise of your household. The water’s still running, the soap is still tipped over the sponge you’re now possibly squeezing too tightly in one hand, and yet you still feel like time has completely stopped.

“Well, now,” he purrs quietly, that familiar, suave tone doing dangerous things to your insides as you try to keep your breathing calm, try not to give away just how badly you-- “Look at you, getting all wet in front of me.”

You suck in a sharp breath.

How does he make a PUN sound SEXY?

“Th-the uh, dishes left party, s-so I’m rubbing the plating. Plates. DISHES!” you squeak out and stars above if there’s mercy in the world, he’ll stop doing this to you, stop tormenting you, stop dragging it out.

You can’t tell. You can’t fucking tell anymore if he’s flirting with you or if he thinks he’s just being funny. How do you know it’s real? How do you know you’re not gonna flop on your face like a moron and maybe ruin the coolest, most meaningful and weird and absurd but you don’t care you fucking treasure it friendship you have? There’s a glaring hole of logic and self-fulfilling doom prophecy there if you were to look hard enough, but you’re… frozen with fear over the idea of said doom prophecy.

You’re terrified to make the first move, even as every movement and biological function of your body plainly broadcasts your turmoil and desire to the space man behind you who’s perfectly aware of every tic. Even when you’ve already told him exactly how down you are to fuck. You’d gotten… the most fucking non-answer encouragement without commitment you’d ever heard in your life.

Your heart is thundering in your chest, your knees are starting to feel weak, you have to consciously remind yourself to resume breathing, and the muscles below your belly are twisting into knots.

Knockout takes a single step closer to you.

Tink-k.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to force your mouth to work, to cut through the thick tension suffocating you and squeezing a problem out into your pants that wasn’t there thirty seconds ago.

Tink-k.

He chuckles, light and low. You feel warm, dry air puff over the back of your neck ,and your eyes screw shut as you shiver.

Tink-k.

He stops.

“Shameless,” he comments in a mellow tone that has no right sounding so suave or so packed, like he just shoved a whole paragraph of dirty dialogue into a single word. What should be an accusation of condemnation sounds very much like a compliment.

Or a warning.