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So I read through some of the reader's feedback regarding the last chapter, some of them had deleted it after posting but just to inform them, I can see them still in the inkstone's dashboard.
As people are uncomfortable with the scene that was given previously, I have made major edits to this chapter which had much more sensuality, removing any graticuous/sensual details and changing its tone more toward funny-ness rather than sensual-ness. Ezra's attitude has been changed to make it more psychological.
The warning is still in effect. The previous offer still stands about me just giving summary of these two chapters in next one. [EDIT] I am really conflicted about the chapter ya know. I am typing this cuz of how many comments I am stiff getting about the dynamics at play in the scene even after removing the explicit narration, so just for sake mental peace, of mine and any disgruntled readers, I am gonna do a fade to black till the end of chapter. I will move the original scene to auxullary content if anyone wants to read it in, but would make this chapter totally non-explicit. That means, this chapter is gonna go from 1.5k words to something like under 0.5k, but whatever.
ALSO SHOUTOUT TO Sp4rt4n_ii7 who has brought the Jedi Grandmaster Tier that was just on my patreon for aesthetics and thematic purpose. Love you, no homo.
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[Ezra's POV]
The moment she turned, presenting her back fully, I realized I was in way over my head. The towel clung precariously to her hips as she leaned forward, water streaming down her spine. I grabbed the soap like it was a thermal detonator about to explode and got to work—because what else was I supposed to do? Panic? Absolutely. But also massage.
Her skin was warm, slick from the water, and tense with knots from hauling scrap all day. I focused on kneading the muscles between her shoulder blades like my life depended on it. She sighed, relaxed under my hands, and I immediately regretted every decision that led me here.
…
The bath was a disaster. Every second was a battle between my screaming adult mind and the absurdity of the situation. I kept thinking of calling it off—half out of guilt for exploiting her innocence, half because my own traitorous thoughts were getting harder to ignore. But pride (or maybe sheer stupidity) made me double down.
That is, until I was washing her legs. My mind drifted, hands moving on autopilot—and then my fingers brushed something far too personal.
Vasha went rigid. For one horrifying second, I was certain my cover was blown. But desperation makes for excellent improv. I forced my hands away,, cranked up the "clueless kid" act to maximum. "Did I poke you? Your legs are like durasteel cables!" I chirped, sounding approximately 200% more innocent than I felt.
Vasha recovered fast, though her shoulders stayed tight. "Just ticklish," she muttered, comparing her inner thigh to an elbow of all things. Sure, Vas. And Tatooine's a ski resort. But I wasn't about to argue. If she wanted to pretend this was normal, I'd play along like my life depended on it—because honestly, it kinda did.
I babbled something about pruny fingers and cold water, waving my hands like a malfunctioning droid. Vasha's gaze flickered over me, a mix of relief and lingering suspicion, before she practically leaped out of the shower. For someone who'd been lounging around naked without a care, she suddenly moved like a cadet in inspection line—grabbing a towel with military precision and wrapping it around herself in record time.
"Enough spa day," she announced, her voice strained but firm. The hair ruffle she gave me was more reflexive than affectionate, her fingers lingering just a second too long. "You did good." The praise should've felt like a win,but Force knows why it didn't.
Then came the kicker. As she strode toward the door, still gloriously nude, she tossed over her shoulder, "Your turn, kid. Wash every part of yourself with at least half the enthusiasm you did with mine"
A tiny, choked noise escaped my throat, something between a squeak and a wheeze, as my brain short-circuited between the sight of her retreating backside and her last remarks
Damn those cheeks. Damn them to Mustafar.
Vasha either didn't hear or chose to ignore it. But as the fresher door hissed shut behind her, one thing was painfully clear: I'd survived the encounter, but the war was far from over.
And worse? She'd probably want a repeat performance. Hell nah, Interstellar FBI might just end up arresting Vasha, and I loved her just too much to subject her to such legalities.
So I did the only sensible thing and turned the water to cold. Freezing cold.
Let the rising peanut shrivel into oblivion....
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The original version of the chapters with all the sensualness and shit is on Patreon if someone wants to get hot and bothered. (Chapter 22, 23 summing together to 7.1k words)
For comparison, the current 22+23 is around 3.5k words (Edit: Now 2.5k around)..... I had to cut out sooo much content lol
If you want to support me or read advanced chapters, you can do so at Patreon. I would be highly appreciative of that and it would support me very much in my writing endeavors.
Link: www(dot)patreon(dot)com/Abstracto101