A/N: So I might have made an eeny wheeny tiny mistake in telling you guys the chapter when the major time skip happens. it was actually chapter 27 where 2 year one happens, not chapter 26 (that has a smaller time skip). So after this one, there is another chapter and after that we are done with present times and can really move ahead with plot and problems that would come their way.
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The first thing I noticed was the heat.
Not the gentle, drowsy warmth of a lazy morning—the kind that murmurs, Stay, just five more minutes. No, this was something denser. A clinging, syrupy heat that draped over the sheets like a second skin, steeped in the musk of sweat, sex, and that suspiciously floral soap we'd both overused last night in a very enthusiastic, very slippery detour.
And also, if I was being honest, the lingering evidence of Vasha's… extracurricular activities.
My brain helpfully replayed the highlights: The buzzing. The moans. The way she'd collapsed onto me afterward like I was a glorified towel.
Stars help me.
Vasha's arm was slung over my waist, her fingers curled possessively against my stomach like I was some kind of stolen treasure. Her breath against my neck was slow, steady—deep in the kind of sleep that suggested she'd earned it.
Perfect.
I shifted, just enough to glance over my shoulder.
And then—
Oh.
Oh no.
At some point in the night, she'd rolled onto her stomach, one leg hitched up, the sheets tangled just so around her hips. The curve of her spine disappeared beneath the fabric like the opening scroll of a very inappropriate Star Wars spinoff.
And that meant—
The ass.
Front and center. High-definition. A full IMAX experience in blue.
My brain short-circuited like a droid hit with an EMP.
The sheets covered just enough to be considered decent—if decency had a laughable, theoretical definition. Because those cheeks? They were flourishing. Living their best life. Glowing in the morning light like a pair of freshly polished beskar gauntlets, slightly flushed from last night's activities (and, let's be real, probably from her solo encore performance), practically gleaming with the kind of confidence that made me want to fold like a bad hand of sabacc.
I swallowed. Hard.
This was not the time for my body to file a formal complaint with the Rebellion.
But… in the name of science—
I propped myself up on one elbow, adopting the solemn focus of a scholar examining an ancient, forbidden artifact. The kind you weren't supposed to touch. The kind that probably cursed people.
The same kind that had nearly broken me last night.
The curves were artistic. Mythological. The kind of ass that deserved its own epic poem—or at least a very detailed holonet fanfic. (Preferably one with less buzzing.)
My fingers twitched.
Just one touch. A quick, respectful assessment. For research.
And maybe a little revenge.
I traced the outer curve with the lightest brush of my fingertips. A slow, experimental swirl. Half-expecting her to wake up and kick me into next week.
But she didn't move.
Encouraging.
I got bolder.
Left cheek first. Full palm. It spilled through my fingers with a bounce so smug I nearly apologized. Like it knew it was winning. Like it had a personal trainer and a sponsorship deal.
Then the right.
Slightly softer. A different vibe. Same glorious species, but distinct subspecies. One was a noble warrior. The other had a bounty on its head and a reputation.
I tapped it.
Just a little boop. A test.
A shiver rippled across the surface like I'd disturbed the water in a pond made of sin and bad decisions.
I blinked.
Did it again.
Then—because my self-preservation instincts were on vacation—I gave it a proper smack.
Thwap.
The sound echoed.
Not a little slap. No, this was the kind of impact that should've triggered seismic sensors on the other side of the planet. The kind that made the Force itself pause and go, "You good, bro?"
The blue skin flushed a deeper purple, then settled back into its usual perfection, like this was just standard maintenance.
I did it again. For science. (I regret nothing.)
And then, in a moment of pure, unfiltered audacity, I went for the full dual-handed grip. Maximum coverage. Optimal squish.
She made a noise.
A soft, sleepy mmph that hit me like a stun bolt to the chest.
I froze.
Hands mid-squeeze. Heart attempting escape maneuvers. Face locked in the oh kriff I'm so dead expression.
But she just nuzzled deeper into the pillow. Still out cold. Still lethally attractive.
Naturally, I kept going.
I pressed my thumbs into the plush underside, right where cheek met thigh—the danger zone. The kind of territory that came with a warning sign and a liability waiver.
It was catastrophically soft. The kind of soft that could topple governments. The kind of soft that made me want to write hasty revisions to my life choices.
The same soft that had been pressed against me last night, trembling through her fifth—yes, fifth—climax.
Ding.
The kitchen timer in the next room detonated the silence like a thermal detonator.
I jumped, yanking my hands back like I'd been electrocuted. Nearly kneed myself in the chin. My heart was now attempting a new hyperspace speed record.
Vasha?
Didn't even flinch.
Just kept breathing. Kept being the single greatest threat to my sanity.
Just like last night.
"Kriffing hells," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.
Mission Report: Cheeks assessed. Survival questionable.
Time to go.
Before I did something stupid. Again.
I slipped out of bed, stealing one last glance at her sprawled out like a personal invitation to ruin my entire life.
Yeah.
This was going to be a very long day.
__
Vasha surfaced from sleep like a diver breaching murky water.
The first thing she noticed wasn't the usual gritty fatigue, but a distinct... dampness. Cool, clinging wetness beneath her hip and thigh.
She blinked against the harsh light streaming through the fresher window. Kriff, what time was it?
The chrono on the far wall came into focus. 10:00 AM.
Ten? Seriously? She never slept that late. Not even after hauling engines all day.
She shifted, trying to escape the wet spot, and the sheet slid lower. A cool draft kissed bare skin.
Oh. Right.
She was completely naked. Utterly, gloriously bare.
The sheet was a mess, tangled around her legs and offering zero coverage. She stretched, long and slow, pulling every muscle taut. A groan rumbled up from her chest.
Stars, she felt... wrung out. Like she'd gone ten rounds in an arena match. That deep, full-body ache buzzed through her core and limbs.
Last night.
The memories hit her all at once. Vivid. Unapologetic.
The shower. Ezra's surprisingly talented hands working out tension she didn't even know she was carrying. That accidental brush. Kriff. And then... everything else.
The main event. Or, really, the events. Plural.
Her cheeks warmed. Not out of shame — not even close — but from the sheer, vivid clarity of it. The desperation. The release. That blissful moment when everything finally snapped loose after being pent up for way too long.
Five times? Had it really been five?
No wonder she felt like a landspeeder had hit her. She'd almost forgotten how good that little blue egg could be, especially when paired with some extra-frustrated motivation.
Yeah, she might've overdone it.
Passed out afterward without even bothering to pull on sleep shorts. Classic.
And Ezra...
Her gaze shifted to the other side of the bed.
Her half? A disaster zone. Damp sheets. Total chaos.
His side? Weirdly pristine. Empty.
Of course he was already up. Kid probably woke with the dawn, full of annoying energy like always.
A lazy smirk tugged at her lips. He'd seen her. Totally sprawled out like this, bare as birth.
So what?
It wasn't like he hadn't seen the goods yesterday when that damn towel betrayed her. Twice.
Nudity wasn't exactly scandalous where she came from. Communal baths were just normal on Ryloth. Core Worlders might freak out over some exposed skin, but she sure wasn't about to start wearing a curtain just to spare a kid who probably saw nothing beyond "blue skin" and "big bubbles."
He was innocent. Sweetly, wonderfully oblivious.
That's how she liked him.
Innocent.
Sure, the kid was a tech genius. Could probably rebuild a hyperdrive blindfolded. But this stuff? The messy, sweaty, adult stuff?
Galaxies away from his little-kid brain.
She'd teach him the basics eventually. Where babies come from. How to be decent to a partner, maybe. But that was way down the road.
Years away. A decade, even.
He was only eight. Still small enough to curl into her side at night.
Just a baby, really.
Her gremlin. Her responsibility.
And keeping that innocence intact? That felt right. Important.
She yawned, arms stretching high over her head. The satisfying pull in her back and shoulders made her groan softly. The sheet slipped off completely, pooling around her hips.
The damp spot under her was officially uncomfortable.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cool floor with a quiet thud. The air was thick with the remnants of last night — sweat, sex, and that stupidly floral soap. She wrinkled her nose.
Yeah. These sheets needed to be burned. Or at least run through the washer on "aggressive punishment" mode.
She stood and padded toward the fresher, not bothering with modesty. The room was empty, and her skin didn't exactly have secrets left to keep.
Her reflection caught her eye in the mirror on the fresher door. Tousled lekku. Soft, sleep-flushed features. That faint afterglow still clinging to her blue skin. Her body looked relaxed, loose and powerful, like it remembered exactly how good last night had been.
She smirked.
Damn. That was a good night.
With that, she nudged the fresher door open, ready to wash off the memories and deal with the day. And deal with the sweet, oblivious little gremlin who had—without even trying—helped make it so memorable.
The sonic shower erased the stickiness and sweat with high-frequency hums, leaving only the faintest echo of soreness and clean, damp skin.
She towel-dried quickly, deciding comfort beat modesty. Her only clean shirt was an old grey work tee, soft and stretched from years of use. It hit around mid-thigh. Close enough.
Workpants could wait until they hit the garage. No point sweating into them early.
He's seen it all anyway, she thought with a shrug.
She pushed open the fresher door, cool air brushing against her bare legs. Goosebumps bloomed across her skin.
The first thing she noticed was the smell of caf. Sharp, bitter, amazing.
Then she spotted him.
Ezra was hunched over the rickety dining table, nose deep in a massive, grease-stained manual titled Advanced Droid Motivator Theory & Interfacing Protocols. His fingers traced the edge of a schematic like it was sacred scripture.
Her chest tightened slightly. Her little genius. Already elbows-deep in things that left grown techs weeping into their hydrospanners.
"Morning, rat."
She crossed to the caf pot without waiting for a reply.
Ezra glanced up, eyes flicking from the pages to her legs, to the oversized shirt that rode up as she reached for a mug. Then back to her face.
No blush. No awkwardness. Just a lazy, mischievous grin.
"Morning Vas," he said, tapping his temple.
She leaned against the counter, taking a long, grateful sip.
His nose suddenly wrinkled as if remembering something.
"Hey, why's your side of the bed all... wet? Like, really wet?" He pointed over his shoulder toward the bedroom door. "Did you spill your water flask? Or... wait, do Twi'leks sweat that much?" He tilted his head thoughtfully, brow furrowing. "Is it like a desert adaptation thing? I read some species have nocturnal evaporative cooling…"
Vasha choked mid-sip and nearly sprayed her caf across the counter. The damp patch.
"Kriff off, you little menace!" she rasped, coughing between snorts of laughter.
Stars, he was so kriffing innocent. Sweet as a tooka pup.
"No, it's not sweat. And it's definitely not pee—before you get that idea." She aimed her mug at him like a blaster. "And no, we don't magically leak coolant while we sleep. Sometimes... stuff just happens. Grown-ups get warm. They kick off blankets. Maybe drool a bit."
Weak. So weak.
She grimaced internally.
"And it's normal," she added quickly, gesturing to herself. "Kind of. And you aren't one to point finger little man!"
Ezra puffed up like a loth-kitten trying to look intimidating.
"Yeah, but try not to leave a whole pond behind! And I wear shorts! Mostly!"
She snorted again.
He looked back down at his manual, muttering something about pressure regulators, then perked up like he'd just remembered something.
"Speaking of weird stuff," he said, eyes locking onto hers with that unnervingly sharp focus, "when I was looking for my book earlier, I saw this... blue thing. On the table. Kinda smooth? About this big." He held his fingers a few inches apart. "Looked like a droid part. Maybe a specialized actuator coupler? Or a repulsorlift node interface? But it didn't have any input ports or power leads. Totally sealed."
His eyes widened with curiosity. "What is it? Some kind of Twi'lek tech? It tasted wierd"
Vasha froze.
The egg.
Her stomach flipped, heat creeping up the back of her neck. Thank the stars for lekku—nobody could see you blush through those.
He thinks it's a droid part. Of course he does.
That innocence was both terrifying and absolutely priceless.
She forced her face into a look of tired exasperation, leaning hard into the cover story.
"Nosy little gremlin," she muttered. "It's private. Not droid tech. And its dirty, why were you licking it anyway!"
She pushed off the counter, sauntering toward the table with deliberate ease. As she passed, her bare thigh brushed his arm. Not intentionally—not entirely—but she didn't shy from the contact either.
Ezra didn't even blink. Just adjusted his elbow to keep it from slipping off the table and looked up at her expectantly.
Still laser-focused on the real question: What was that thing?
She reached past him for the sugar, letting the oversized shirt gape slightly at the neckline. Again, no reaction. His gaze never wavered from her face. He wasn't looking for skin—he was chasing answers.
"Well?" he pressed, brow furrowed. "If it's not tech, then what is it? Looked expensive. Is it a weapon? Some kind of jammer? A cloaking node?"
Vasha straightened, sugar in hand, and gave him a grin that was all teeth and mischief.
"Wouldn't you like to know, scrap rat?" she purred, letting just enough implication hang in the air.
Ezra narrowed his eyes, not suspicious—just deeply annoyed.
"You're being weird, Vas," he muttered, like he was personally offended. "And secretive. Is it illegal?" He dropped his voice dramatically, like he was about to uncover some huge smuggling ring.
She laughed. A low, rich sound that came from somewhere deep in her chest.
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just grown-up stuff. Way too complicated for your tiny brain."
She ruffled his hair with her free hand, making him squawk and duck.
"Focus on your droid motivators, genius. And leave my... specialized equipment alone."
With that, she turned toward the bedroom, hips swaying exaggeratedly.
Just for fun.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him scrunch his nose again. Not in embarrassment, but maybe in raw, unsolved-puzzle frustration.
Adorable.
As she passed his chair, habit kicked in.
Morning routine. Muscle memory.Cuteness Aggression Protocol: ENGAGED.
Vasha pivoted mid-step, dropping into a crouch beside Ezra's chair in one smooth motion. Before he could even blink, her hands were on his cheeks—squishing mercilessly.
"Alright, scrap rat," she growled, voice low and playful. "Pay the morning toll."
His face crumpled under her fingers, lips puckering into a ridiculous fish-mouth like he hadn't expected it to happen. How innocent, how oblivious. Like she is gonna forget this part of her day ever!
She planted three loud, smacking kisses on each cheek:
MWAH! MWAH! MWAH! Left.
MWAH! MWAH! MWAH! Right.
Ezra flailed, voice muffled. "Vashaaa! Sto—mph! I'm reading! Important droid—ack!"
"Toll is toll," she declared, releasing his cheeks only to yank him into a crushing hug. She buried her face in his shoulder with an exaggerated NOM! "Mmm. Tasty genius gremlin. My favorite flavor."
She let him go with a final squeeze—lifting him an inch off the chair—and leaned back, grinning at his disheveled hair and damp, reddened cheeks. "Paid up. You may proceed." She tapped her own cheek. "Now gimme. Don't be stingy."
Ezra sighed, long-suffering, but leaned in obediently. Normally, his kiss was a quick peck—dry, chaste, over in half a second.
His lips lingered. Just a fraction too long. There was a soft, wet pressure—a slight suck—before he pulled away.
FWAP.
The memory hit her like a stun bolt:
His mouth. Warm. Sealed tight. The dizzying pull as he—
Her breath caught. Her lekku twitched. For half a second, her entire body locked up, caf turning to ice in her stomach.
Ezra wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, already turning back to his manual. "There. Happy?" He flipped a page, brow furrowed. "Can I finish now? This motivator bypass is weird."
Vasha stayed frozen, crouched beside him. The ghost of that damp, suctioned kiss lingered on her cheek.
Stars, Vasha. Get a grip.
She forced herself to exhale.
He was a kid. Probably had syrup on his lips.
She was just... oversensitive today. That's all.
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, voice strung a half-octave too high. She sprang upright, swiping at her shirt like it was covered in dust instead of her own discomfort. "Focus on your bypass, genius. Try not to detonate the apartment before first meal."
Her hand ruffled his hair before sauntering back to the kitchen.
Behind her, Ezra's manual rustled. His fingertip traced a circuit diagram with meticulous focus.
If the corner of his mouth twitched in a mischievous smile—just for a nanosecond-before he got back to that neutral annoyed face?
Well.
She walked away before she could've possibly seen it.
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Chapter for today. Do you thing, vote for the book. This week is gonna go great, I know it.
Top 10 for a bonus chapter, top 20 for another,
and 500 stones for another chapter.
(after seeing how good you guys did last week, i think you deserve more )
So basically same scheme as last week.
Thanks. (PS I am travelling rn so network is sooo bad that I can't even play games...and guess which dumb-ass forgot to download movies to watch...)