#yes the man who avoids eye contact for everything except manipulation and cannot sit still despite massive amounts of chronic pain has | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wri0thesley · 3 years

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Request: Ghiaccio x chubby reader?

All the icy boy wants to do is caress and grope her soft body. Every time he sees her, he just stares at her, and that kinda freaks her out because she doesn't know that he likes her.

Anonymous said: Ghiaccio x chubby reader All he wants to do is squeeze and kiss the chubbiness

beneath the cut: headcanons (some nsfw) with a chubby fem reader! <3

♡ Ghiaccio runs cold, and is all hard muscle from his constant ice skating - he keeps himself in as tip-top physical condition as possible, because his stand relies a lot on how fit and active he is and how well he can manipulate his surroundings to his advantage. So it’s no wonder that he can’t stop staring at you and wondering just what your soft flesh would feel like under his calloused fingers. You sit down next to him for a meeting once and he can practically feel the warmth emanating from you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop the thoughts of reaching around and pulling you in and basking in how squishy and warm and different to him you feel. His fingers clench on his knees and he shoots you a look from the corner of his eye with his teeth clenched - and you react to the look the way any team member of Ghiaccio who sees it would. Your eyebrows furrow as you mouth a ‘sorry’ at him and try and shift so you’re not so close. You might not know how you’ve made him angry, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to risk making it worse.

♡ Thoughts of you absolutely haunt him. He literally cannot take his eyes off of you when you’re in his vicinity - and when you’re not, his mind is still playing back images of you. He’s haunted by the way that you curve out, when you wear clothes that seem just a little too tight, when he sees you press against someone and he watches how your plush flesh indents. He can’t stop thinking about the roundness of your thighs and how his fingertips would dig into them and leave bruises - about burying his head in your chest, about your soft arms wrapping around him, about how perfect your hips would feel in his grip. He has to wrap his hand around his cock and pump it just to stop himself being driven absolutely wild by the thought of you, the pillow he’s humping soft like you but nowhere near as warm or as tight or as perfect as he knows you’d be.

♡ You, on the other hand, have begun to avoid Ghiaccio as much as possible. Whenever you see him, his face seems to change, and you’re absolutely certain that it’s not a compliment. The way his teeth grit and he seems to go red and his fists clench makes you feel like you piss him off merely by sharing the same air as him. You go to Melone for advice, because the two of them are so often partners, and the blond merely gives you a pitying look. “You haven’t worked it out, bambina?” He says, rolling the words around on his tongue. The pity turns to a smirk. “Oh, we all know exactly what his problem is.” You try and get Melone to tell you, but he simply laughs and gives you a pat on the cheek. “He has to figure it out on his own,” he purrs. “Don’t worry, though. He definitely doesn’t hate you.”

♡ Everything comes to a head one day when you and he are the only ones in the base. Ghiaccio is not the kind of man who talks about his feelings, but even Risotto has noticed that he’s on edge - and after a quiet word with the capo and Risotto telling him that if his personal feelings (that every person who knows him except you have read all over his face and body language) are getting in the way, he should do something about it. If somebody who finds it as difficult to deal with with his own feelings as Risotto does is telling Ghiaccio that he’s emotionally constipated and needs to man up, even Ghiaccio knows that he should. Besides. He’s been getting sloppy in his work, he’s not able to properly concentrate on anything when you’re around, he nearly slipped whilst he was training with White Album the other day because Melone and you had appeared at the edge of the frozen lake - yes. He has to do something about it.

♡ Ghiaccio doesn’t like beating around the bush. He doesn’t want his words to be misconstrued. When he comes into the common area of the hideout and sees you on the sofa and immediately flops down next to you, your entire being seems to pull up into tension and anxiety - what is he going to do? How have you pissed him off this time? You’re not expecting a flush to rise to his cheeks, him to reach up to fiddle with his glasses, and for him to admit in words that seem to take him an effort to push out exactly the reason that he’s been so weird around you. You’re self-conscious about yourself at the best of times - hearing Ghiaccio say out loud that he can’t concentrate because he wants you so badly sets you all off-kilter. He sees the trepidation in your eyes, the tight knot of your body, and he reaches forward to cup your chin with his hand. He meets your eyes head-on - this is unusual. Eye contact is difficult for him at the best of times. But his face screws up and he looks at you and his cheeks are red and flushed and there’s genuine emotion in his eyes - so when he leans forward, and he kisses you, you throw caution to the wind and you kiss him back.

♡ The fact that you come with him to bed is a surprise, but it’s not an unwelcome one. Ghiaccio is so glad to finally be able to touch you - his hands on you are rought but reverent, as he squeezes where you’re soft and kisses you all over with hungry passionate lips, nipping your soft skin so he can leave bites and bruises as a reminder to both you and him that you’re his. He’s not good with compliments. He understands words incredibly well, but actually being able to push them out if they’re about his feelings is not a strong point - which is why he’s so glad he can show you how he feels with his fingers, with his hands, with his grip and his kisses and the feel of his cock digging hard and hungry into your thighs. Despite the roughness of Ghiaccio’s treatment, the next morning you’re going to be left in absolutely no doubt that the reason Ghiaccio has been acting so weird with you is the debilitating crush he’s been harbouring - and you find that you don’t mind being the object of his affections. Expect to be regularly dragged away from meetings or jobs or just relaxing in the common rooms of the hideout because your shirt has rolled up to show the softness of your tummy, or your skirt is too short and Ghiaccio can’t stop staring at your thighs, or simply because he saw you. Now Ghiaccio has you, he doesn’t ever want to let you go.

#not sfw #jojo headcanons #ghiaccio x reader #fem reader #jjba #jojo postin #ghiaccio #Anonymous

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inkognito97 · 7 years

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Youngster VIII

Sequel to Youngster VII

First Part can be found here.

Summary: A Sith Knight battles his emotions... and challenges his old Master...

“We have been contacted by the Jedi Council,” Dooku stated without any emotions in his voice. Yet he stood tense on the small bridge in the garden Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had build so long ago. His wrinkled hands rested on the railing and he was looking at the clear water.

Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgement. He was standing right next to his Grandmaster, his grandfather. His posture was relatively relaxed, except the arms he had crossed over his chest. He too looked at the water below them.

“I had expected them to react sooner or later. Anakin, Ahsoka and I never arrived on our intended goal after all… and we did not contact them, like we were supposed to.”

“You do not sound worried,” the older male observed.

“No, why should I? As far as they know, we have done nothing wrong, they cannot even prove that we lied to them. We could just say that we encountered you during our trip and decided to pursue you and somehow, all connections failed. And even if they suspect anything, what can they do? Throw us out of the Order? At this point not even Anakin and Ahsoka would care, they told me after I ordered them to leave. They refused, of course.”

“They share this lineage’s stubbornness,” he said fondly.

A smirk appeared on freckled features, but he did not explain why he smiled. Instead he said, “What did they sent? What were their words?” Dooku tilted his head in thought. “They demanded to know what you are up to. The Council explicitly ordered you three to return and they threatened with certain sanctions, should you refuse.” He did not need to elaborate.

“I see. Perhaps I SHOULD order Anakin and his Padawan to leave. We should pretend to need them to spy for us, otherwise they would just continue to refuse.” “What about you though? Are you ready to throw away the only life you have known until now? You are aware that Qui-Gon is on the best way of rehabilitation, he does not need you to be around the whole time, not anymore.”

“I am aware…” he hesitated, “but my place is no longer with the Jedi. I… I cannot forgive what they have done, I cannot forgive and I will never forget.” “Revenge is not our way,” his voice sounded warning and he finally turned to the younger man. When he did not immediately receive an answer, he stepped closer to the red haired Sith. “Obi-Wan…”

“I know,” he snapped and briefly turned his head to the older male, before gazing back into the blue river that reminded him so much of his father in all but blood. “I know,” he repeated in a calmer tone, “and I am not planning to take my revenge. But… but I cannot sit back and watch how the Jedi Order threatens and destroys everything I care about. I am not just talking about Qui-Gon, or you for that matter.”

“Obi-Wan, I am not sure I understand.”

The young Sith turned around and leaned against the railing leaning his head back, so that he could look up at the sky. “The galaxy is changing and it is clear the Jedi won’t adapt, won’t change their ancient ways. Let us not make the same mistake as them. We have a duty, to us and to the Force. We cannot leave the galaxy in darkness, not in the darkness Sidious wants it to fall.”

A sigh escaped the grey haired man and he suddenly looked his age. Also, sadness clouded his eyes. “I am not sure that we are able to do what you say. I am not the youngest, neither is my old apprentice… You… you and Ventress are our only future and the two of you cannot fight a whole war, it is not possible.”

“Perhaps not… perhaps it is. We will never know if we become cowards and hide… like them.” There was a gleam in his suddenly golden eyes that Dooku had only seen ones in his long life.

He had seen that look just one time, and it had been in Qui-Gon’s eyes, when he had brought a dirty ginger haired boy back home. When he, looking bad and dirty himself, had brought a small but determined child with him, which had given him a new purpose in life. Dooku had been skeptical about the lively boy at first, but he had also known that Qui-Gon would not abandon him at this point. The older Sith had soon discovered what the boy truly meant for his former apprentice and he had soon realized that he had saved the stubborn long haired male, in more ways than one, but mostly from himself. Obi-Wan had truly been a great addition in their small family, he had become their dark star, their hope and their strength.

A sigh escaped the older Sith and he slightly shook his head, but when he looked up again and locked his yellow eyes with Obi-Wan’s golden ones, everything was said. He would follow Obi-Wan, to the end of the galaxy and beyond.

“Thank you,” the accented voice was soft and with a last nod, Obi-Wan pushed himself away from the wooden railing and walked the way towards the sleeping area. He needed to talk to a certain blonde and a certain Togruta. He would not be responsible for their downfall, he had made a promise after all.

“But Obi-Wan,” the ginger haired Sith had expected his former Padawan to argue, but that he was THIS stubborn…

“Enough!” he bellowed and therefore surprised both him and Ahsoka. Even though they had got to know the more passionate side of him, they had not seen everything just yet. And perhaps this was even for the best. He took a deep breath. “Anakin, we need you back in the Order, I need you back in the Order. You and Ahsoka are the only ones that I can trust.”

Obi-Wan knew that he was playing dirty. He was toying with their guilt and their connection to him, but so were the ways of the Sith.

The young Knight was obviously battling with himself. Behind his eyes, raged a storm of emotions. He would have made an excellent Sith Warrior, but he had not been destined to become one, the Force had decided for a different fate and of course, Obi-Wan had followed its will.

“Are you sure that there is no other way?” he sounded almost broken, but the Sith could not let his attachment overrule his sense of duty and the Force, not now.

“I wish there were, believe me. I would rather have you at my side, both of you.” He pointedly gazed to the troubled female, before stepping over to the two sitting Jedi and putting a comforting hand on their shoulders.

“Will you be alright?” these were the first words the young Padawan spoke since Obi-Wan had called them into his private sleeping rooms.

He gave her an encouraging smile. “Of course I will, I won|t be alone after all.”

“I still don’t like it,” Anakin protested, but it was only half heartedly.

“I know,” he looked sad for a moment, before he shook his head and before he took a few determined steps towards his former Padawan. He kneeled down in front of the younger male and leaned up, until both their foreheads were resting together. This simple gesture alone, said more than a thousand words could and the Sith could feel the other’s inner turmoil start to calm. It was a beginning, even though it was a hard one.

“May the Force be with you, Master.” Anakin mumbled.

“And with you two,” Obi-Wan whispered right back.

“I had not expected them to leave so soon,” a sad baritone voice sounded behind the ginger haired Sith, who had felt the other’s presence a while ago.

“They do what the Force wills them to do,” he simply answered. What else was he to say? The truth? No, Qui-Gon would not understand it, or perhaps he would. But he would not approve of Obi-Wan’s choices.

“And what about you?”

“I too, am following the will of the Force,” he simply answered, without turning his eyes from the slowly shrinking transport ship on the horizon. He would miss them, Anakin, Ahsoka, as well as the clones and he made himself no false illusions in denying it. He would not hear from his former Padawan and his Grandpadawan anytime soon, they would be under supervision from now on, even when the Council believed their lie. They would be searched for any sign of darkness and it was to be expected. They would tell the Council that they had encountered Dooku and had been captured by them. Anakin and Ahsoka had escaped, while Obi-Wan’s status was… unclear. They would not say that he had abandoned the Jedi, Obi-Wan knew they wouldn’t. They would most likely tell them that Dooku was manipulating him. He mentally scoffed, as if he would allow that.

“Are you? Following the will of the Force, I mean,” there was a lot of doubt in his voice and Obi-Wan barely kept his temper in check.

Had he not been doubted enough in his life? The man had been imprisoned for years and despite their talks and the information and news they had provided him with, he did not really understand what had happened, what they had suffered through. And Obi-Wan would not allow him, even though Qui-Gon was technically his Master, to question his decisions, not know, when the future of the galaxy was threatened.

“Yes,” he finally turned around and locked his fiery golden eyes with Qui-Gon’s surprised blue ones, “Believe it or not, you are not the only one, following the Force’s guidance.” “I never said that,” the older male in the hoverchair protested.

“You did not have to,” he walked past the weakened Sith, not saying another word. In silence, did Obi-Wan cross the threshold and entered the palace like building, fully intending to meditate in his private rooms, where nobody would disturb OR question him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan should have expected the other’s stubbornness and persistence.

“I’m tired,” he said instead, avoiding actually answering the question. He could feel Qui-Gon’s irritation in the Force. It had steadily grown these last few days and it would be only a matter of time until the long haired Sith exploded. Until then, Obi-Wan would continue with his little games, like nothing was happening.

“I am too, yet you do not hear me making false assumptions,” his tone held a certain edge to it, that made Obi-Wan stop dead in his tracks and whirl around to face the stubborn man.

“You are right, I don’t hear any assumptions from you. But that is not because of your so great control, but because you never share your thoughts to begin with. You never did when I was your apprentice and you still don’t now, when I am technical your equal.” He hesitated. “Though we both know, who would win in a fight…” he let the words trail off.

Qui-Gon seemed shocked by the sudden outburst and the unexpected hostility from the younger man. He was searching and fighting for words, until he opened his mouth again.

“How… how DARE you speak to me like this? I am your Master,” Qui-Gon said slightly irritated.

“Are you?” he questioned, completely emotionless.

Midnight blue eyes blinked. “What do you mean? Or course I am. What has gotten into you all of a sudden?”

Obi-Wan hummed, “I wonder… are you still the same man that the Jedi took all those years ago, or have you changed?”

“I have changed of course, but so have you and…” he did not come further.

“Then how do I know that you are still my Master? How can I be sure of that, how can I be sure of anything? Everything around me is falling apart, everything is changing so quickly. The unifying Force is in uproar and yet…” he abruptly stopped talking.

“Child?”

“Never mind,” he vehemently shook his head to clear his thoughts, “I need to meditate.”

“Very well,” he was clearly not happy with the way Obi-Wan had ended their conversation. The younger Sith could actually see the hurt and betrayal in the other’s eyes, but right now, he could not bring himself to care.

He needed time, he needed rest. He was losing his mind, his sanity and Obi-Wan knew it. When he didn’t find a solution or at least some serenity soon, then Dooku would have another mental case under his roof. And who would protect the innocent and the galaxy then?

Obi-Wan slightly bowed his head to the sitting man, who made no move to copy the small sign of respect. The young Sith was not surprised. Qui-Gon felt insulted, his pride was deeply hurt and he would undoubtedly continue to be offended for a little while. Obi-Wan could not care less. He was not the one, who had nightmares almost every night and needed soothing. No, he had Force visions, but during the time without his Master, his father, he had learned how to deal with them, alone.

Without another word, the ginger haired male turned around and left the man in the hoverchair behind him, without looking back and without noticing the longing look in midnight blue orbs.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” his voice was quivering, but Obi-Wan didn’t care. If there was one person in the whole galaxy that he could trust with his feelings and fears, then it was his soon to be wife.

“I wish I could help you,” Satine replied. Her eyes were sad, he could see that even through the holo transmission.

“I know… and you have no idea how much that means to me.” That was the truth.

A gentle smile appeared in the female’s features and her eyes were suddenly full of love. Oh, how the young Sith wished Satine were here, but he could not, would not, threaten her life just to see her.

Obi-Wan sighed. “It feels like I am reaching the end of the rope. I know that Sidious is closing in and that his darkness threatens to take over… and now I have the Jedi to worry about. And Qui-Gon… he… he doesn’t see that he still needs time to recover. He doesn’t realize that so much time has passed, that both Dooku and I have changed. He treats me like his apprentice, like I was just knighted…”

“It is hard for him,” she said gently. “What would you do, beloved? Imagine your places were switched. Imagine that you spent years in captivity, cut from the Force and from everything you know and care about.” She shook her head, “Obi-Wan, you don’t know what they told him. He could have believed you dead for all we know. It is a normal human reaction of him. His mind cannot, does not want things to have changed and therefore he treats you like this.” Obi-Wan understood what his almost wife was saying, he understood it perhaps better than anybody else. “He has to adapt,” he said lamely.

“And he will, I am sure of it. He just needs time beloved… and he has to see and experience his limits on his own.”

“You are right,” there was a sad smile on his bearded features. “As always you are absolutely right. Why haven’t I contacted you sooner?”

The blonde shrugged, “Probably because you are a very stubborn man.”

“I got that from him, no doubt.” He was actually able to chuckle at this. With another sigh he leaned back into the comfortable chair again, snuggling into the soft cushions. His Grandmaster did not only have style, he knew how to make his home comforting and cozy as well. “Yet… I still don’t know what to do about the rising threat.” “What does the Force tell you?”

Obi-Wan smiled at her pretense to understand the ways of the Force. In all reality, she had no idea how it worked, just like all the other non-Force users, but at least she tried her hardest. “It is silent on the whole matter.” Satine made a humming sound and seemed to ponder about it. “Perhaps… perhaps it just wants you to continue what you are doing. What is the last… order, the Force has given you?”

The young Sith closed his eyes and searched his memory. It was a tedious task and usually he would have entered a light meditation for it, but this time, he refrained from doing so. He didn’t want to lose himself in the chaos that the Force currently was, it always gave him a headache and he did not need that now, not on top everything else.

“The last time it spoke clearly… it wanted me to safe and take care of Qui-Gon,” he eventually replied hesitantly.

She nodded. “Perhaps this is still what you are supposed to do. You know, people who have suffered through such traumatic experiences, tend to have a relapse more often than not. This might be the Force’s way of telling you to stay put.” Obi-Wan nodded in thought. “I will think about it, thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Satine shrugged and wore a challenging smile on her features, “I think it is better that we don’t have to find out,” she winked and Obi-Wan could not help but join her merry laughter.

After they had exchanged their goodbyes and promises for a better future together, especially on Obi-Wan’s part, the ginger haired Sith shut down the connection. His almost wife was right, as usual. He should be patient and wait for the Force to tell him more. Forcing the issue would not help him at all, he should know better, he did know better, but sometimes… sometimes it needed somebody with a clear head to look through the fog. A sudden thought hit him. Neither Qui-Gon, nor Dooku knew about his engagement yet, he had forgotten to tell them during the whole commotion. A mistake, he had to rectify immediately. And who knew, it might cheer them all up again. The Force knew they could need it.

Dinner was a dull affair. Dooku was deep in thoughts and staring a hole in the table, Qui-Gon was sulking and not in a good mood and Asajj had caught the mood and reacted by keeping silent. The tension was heavy, even when Obi-Wan entered. Dooku briefly nodded at him, Asajj sent him a genuine smile and a brief shrug of her shoulders and Qui-Gon did not even look his way.

Midway during dinner, the ginger haired Sith couldn’t take the depressing silence anymore. “I ehm…eh… I am engaged,” he had absolutely no idea how to say this, it was not like he got engaged every day.

Dooku spoke first, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Engaged Obi-Wan? Engaged in what?”

Even Qui-Gon looked up in interest. Obi-Wan put away his flatware and leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, across from Dooku, who was seating the head of the table. Thankfully the table was small enough to hold a normal conversation, without screaming and yelling.

The young Sith groaned and he dropped his forehead in his hand, because of his stupid choice of words. “No, not…” he sighed, “I am engaged… like in a marriage.” A cluttering sound could be heard and it sounded like flatware that hit an empty plate. “Wait what?” this was Asajj’s voice.

He looked up and regretted ever saying anything. This was highly embarrassing. “I am going to be married.”

Dooku and Qui-Gon exchanged looks and Asajj simply stared at him, mouth gaping and in utter disbelief. “You, I mean you of all people, are getting married?”

“Asajj,” Dooku’s tone was scolding and he glared at her. The white haired man sat straighter and he too put his flatware away. He leaned forward and braced his chin atop his clasped hands, while his elbows came to rest on the table. “And who might this lucky woman be?”

“Or man,” Qui-Gon added and he shrugged at the disgusted look Dooku was sending his way. The long haired man had always been more open to same-sex relationships, than Dooku. Hell, he had even told Obi-Wan in private that, if he truly preferred the same gender, he would still love him very much and also support him in any way possible. Obi-Wan had not needed the reassurance, but it had still been a nice gesture.

“You know her,” he sent a significant look towards his Grandmaster, who seemed more at ease now that the gender was clear. Always those tradition loving people, Obi-Wan thought amused. “She is the duchess of Mandalore.” “Satine Kryze,” Qui-Gon interrupted in awe. His eyes were suspiciously bright and his lively spirit seemed to return to him.

“Oh great,” Asajj groaned, “more royalty…” She was ignored by everyone.

“And when will the festivities take place?” Obi-Wan wondered why Dooku always fell into formal speech as soon as others were present or when – in his eyes – important things needed to be discussed.

Obi-Wan avoided everyone’s gazes and instead focused on the half empty plate in front of him. “We decided to postpone the actually wedding to a time, when the war is over.”

“Bullshit,” exclaimed the female Sith.

“Asajj Ventress, guard your tongue. I do not want such fool language at my table or anywhere else in my home,” Dooku sounded everything but amused.

“She is right though,” Qui-Gon again, “Why wait? Especially in war you should act. You cannot be sure that you survive, neither can Satine for that matter. Who knows, afterwards it might be too late.” Had Obi-Wan mentioned that he hated to talk about his personal feelings? “I don’t want to make a rash decision,” he mumbled.

“Obi-Wan, sometimes…” the bald Sith assassin sighed in annoyance and leaned on her elbows, closer towards the ginger haired man, “The fact that you are this cautious and that you want it to work, should be reason enough to just do it.”

“Indeed, why postpone?” asked Dooku. Obi-Wan did not say anything. He didn’t know what he was supposed to reply. Suddenly a large hand landed on his thigh and squeezed in a comforting manner. Startled, he looked up, only to find himself gazing into compassionate blue eyes.

“Don’t listen to them, do what you think is right,” his smile was gentle and reassuring and Obi-Wan could not help but smile back. He took the larger hand in his own and squeezed right back. And once again, Qui-Gon was reassuring him, telling him he was his own man. It was as if nothing had changed.

A sudden realization hit him. A lot of time has passed and some things have changed, but not everything. Qui-Gon would always come to his aid and tell him to be his own man, he would always assure him that his decisions – especially concerning personal matters – were his own and therefore always right, at least as long as he was satisfied with them. Perhaps this was exactly what Satine had meant...

“Congratulations, little one,” Qui-Gon said.

It was an impulsive decision on Obi-Wan’s part, when he stood up and took the few steps towards the long haired man, just to hug him tightly. “Thank you,” he mumbled against the long haired man’s neck, “father.”

He felt Qui-Gon release a shaky breath, but before he could comment on it, did the older Sith tighten his own embrace. When he pulled back, midnight blue eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Make no mistake child, I fully expect to properly meet my daughter in law as soon as possible.”

“Of course,” he said.

“Qui-Gon,” Dooku demanded attention, “I hope you understand the responsibility you will have then. Not only as father, but as grandfather. It will be your duty to attend to the little ones’ needs and it won’t be done with spoiling them, let me assure you.”

“Little ones? As in more than one?” Asajj grinned, “A good thing that I am just the aunt, who can spoil them rotten!”

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan stood facing both his sister and grandfather in all but blood.

“I agree with Obi-Wan, no children!” Qui-Gon said.

“Hah, you only fear being called ‘old’,” the female Sith boldly replied.

“Careful Asajj, you are not only insulting me with that statement.”

The female in question furrowed her brows, not quite sure what he meant. Dooku decided to ‘help’ her, by clearing his throat and raising an eyebrow in his typical manner. Sudden realization hit the female and a sheepish grin appeared on her features.

“I speak only the truth,” she said, though she shouldn’t have, for it was the start of a heated bickering between Asajj and her Master.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to sigh. When the two were at it, it could take hours until they had calmed down again. He sent a brief glance towards Qui-Gon, who was shaking his head and wore a suffering look on his bearded features. He looked like Obi-Wan felt.

Deciding that he could only succumb to his fate, did the ginger haired Sith put his hands on the backrest of his former Master’s chair and leaned on it. Qui-Gon did not seem to him, he actually leaned his head back to gaze up at him. He gave in to his brief desire and leaned down, circling the older Sith’s neck with his arms so that his left cheek was still pressed against Qui-Gon’s right one. Almost immediately did a hand rise to cover the free side of Obi-Wan’s face and a single thumb made soothing motions.

There was a brief hesitation, before Obi-Wan uttered his next, carefully chosen words. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. You will always be my Master and more, it’s just…” he sighed, “I guess I am under a lot of stress…” he trailed off.

“I know,” Qui-Gon whispered right back. They did not have to talk so loud, they were right next to each other after all. “You have become your own man, Obi-Wan. You learned to be independent. You had to look out for yourself and for your Padawan after all. And you did an amazing job.”

A small smile found its way on Obi-Wan’s features and he allowed himself to just enjoy the moment for a few seconds. Dooku and Asajj were still bickering in the background and therefore completely oblivious to the important dialogue between former Master and former apprentice, between father and son.

“I missed you,” the blue-green eyed Sith eventually said.

“I missed you too.” Obi-Wan felt the other’s movements and he knew that Qui-Gon had closed his eyes. The taller man took a deep breath, “I wanted to give up so many times, but… but every time I was on the verge of, you know, death… you sprung to the front of my mind and I was reminded that there is still something, someone out there, for whom I had to fight.” This revelation hurt and the younger male was battling against unbidden tears. He had to press his eyes tightly shut to keep them from falling and he pressed his lips together to keep from sobbing. The hand on his head, tightened its hold and pressed him even closer.

Only when Obi-Wan had more or less gained control over his emotions again, did he speak up once more, “I am glad you did.”

“So am I, my son, so am I.” His voice was suspiciously shaky and when the younger man pulled back, just enough so that he could look into the other’s face, he saw wet and glistening midnight blue eyes.

Without thinking about it, Obi-Wan leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss against a bearded cheek. It was just as lovingly returned.

“I am glad to have you back.”

“I am glad to be back… though a lot has changed.” A sigh, “Perhaps you are right. I need to step up from my high podium. It is about time that I realize that things are not like I want them to be anymore. I simply have to be patient to find my place again.”

“I will gladly help you,” it was vow and promise.

“I know you will,” he smiled.

“But,” Obi-Wan briefly looked in the direction of the bickering pair, “for now I suggest that we make a hasty retreat and leave them to their bickering. Perhaps we can find a more pleasurable activity to waste our time.”

“Yes, please,” Qui-Gon replied laughing.

The ginger haired Sith stood up and helped his elder do the same. They did say nothing else, just walked out of the dining room, it was not like Asajj and Dooku would have noticed anyway.

“So…” Qui-Gon began when they were in the hallway and he had a tone in his voice that caused all alarm bells to spring to life in Obi-Wan’s head, “Satine Kryze…”

Obi-Wan groaned.

#youngster au #part 8 #sith!dooku #sith!qui-gon #sith!obi-wan #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #dooku #asajj ventress #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #sith family #hurt/comfort #stress #satine kryze #obitine #my fics #ao3

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