Chapter Text
PING!
Bant groaned, blinking the tiredness out of her eyes slowly as she realized she had fallen asleep in the archives again, her skin drier than normal from being in a low humidity environment for so long.
PING!
PING!
Someone was trying to get a hold of her, most likely one of her friends. It might be Garen, who was between missions with his master, potentially Siri wanting to do girls' night again, or perhaps Obi Wan was back from his own mission and wanted to meet up during the rare time he had in the temple these days?
PING!
With a huff, or a close approximation of one, Bant sat up in the stiff wooden archive chair and reached towards her standard issue leather belt and began digging through one of the many pockets she had on said belt. Eventually, she found what she was looking for, pulling out the still ringing com, and without checking the caller ID, answered.
“Padawan Healer Eerin, how can I help you?”
A beat of silence passed before the being on the other end answered.
“Bant, it’s Quin. Jinn abandoned Obi on their mission again .”
Bant’s face contorted slightly in her species’ version of a frown, scaled skin wrinkling ever so slightly.
“Again? How? Wasn’t it supposed to be some sort of relief mission? Especially since Obi was injured so badly on their last one…” Not that Obi-Wan was getting the proper treatment for said injuries, the redhead was famous for avoiding the Halls of Healing, and the healers that worked there, herself included, be it for small cuts and burns or full on concussions and stab wounds.
“Well I had just come back from one of the solo missions Master Tholme has me doing every now and then, and I had to give my report, I even put on an outer robe Bant, and the Padawan at the desk said I could enter the chambers but right as I was about to knock on the doors to the inner chamber I heard Jinn’s voice, apparently they ended up taking down the blockade instead of sticking to the original mission which, you’re right, was a relief mission, and along the way Jinn supposedly didn’t realize that Obi had gone off to confront the crime organization, which first off doesn’t sound like him at all, but second, Jinn is claiming he can’t sense Obi-Wan anymore and that there was lots of destruction. And yet, I can feel Obes clear as day, even though he’s far away, and he feels happier than I’ve felt from him in a long time, and that’s with him still far away from us-”
Bant quickly cut the Kilflar off before he could continue
“You don’t think he’s going to claim Obi went Dark do you? He’s done it before, during Melidadaan, and with Mandalore, and that time on Alderaan…”
Bant could hear her friend’s frown, the silence stretching between them thick and unnatural.
“If he does, then I’ll do whatever it takes to prove once again that Obi is the Lightest and brightest of us all”
Bant closed her eyes. “I like to think we all will. May the Force be with you Quin”
“May the Force be with you Bant”
---
The wind was blowing, coarse grains of sand and bits of glass pelting his armor. He was running, running, from what? What was he running from?
An explosion, loud and violent, sweeping him off his feet and throwing him forwards into the harsh dry sandy ground.
He looked up and saw blue, bright blue light deflecting blaster bolts back towards others in blue and gray armor. Kyr'tsad. The wielder of the blue light turned to face him.
Obi Wan opened his mouth, but Jango couldn’t hear the words coming past the omega’s lips. There was a ringing in his ears, an annoying hum that put him on edge.
“... help… safe… hope… fix…”
Fog rolled into his vision until Jango felt like he was falling backwards, his heart was beating faster and faster until he felt like he couldn’t breath and then-
Jango opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he came to awareness. He began to sit up, only for something to squeeze his arm. Panicking slightly, Jango turned to confront whatever was trapping him in his own bed only to see his omega (not his, not yet) wrapped around his forearm, a frown on his face causing his forehead to wrinkle. The omega was warm, almost unbearably so, against his bare skin, and he was trembling ever so slightly. The alpha sighed, knowing from the heat and scent the omega was putting off that the heat was beginning to pitch again.
The omega’s skin was shining with a thin layer of sweat, brow furrowed as whatever getal’ika was witnessing in his dreams played out.
Ge’tal really was a fitting nickname for the man, his hair a coppery red that glinted ever so slightly in the right lighting, soft pale skin covered in a light dusting of freckles. The Ven’alor frowned as he noticed quite a fair number of scars across the Jedi’s body, old and new, as well as a few bruises that could do with some treatment.
Jango carefully slid out of the bed, watching as the Jedi padawan, and oh Manda his buir was going to have words with him about the entire situation, curled around the pillow Jango had rested his head on, likely finding the scent left behind by his glands soothing.
Speaking of his buir, Jango felt that he should probably send some sort of heads up, just in case.
A soft yet still audible growling noise echoed from his stomach.
First, he needed to keep himself going so he could take care of the omega in his care.
Wandering out of the bunk, Jango slid on a pair of pants, grabbed his comm, and headed for the small kitchenette to prepare something for when the omega woke up, and something to fuel his own body as well.
The curly haired man grabbed the needed ingredients out of the designated storage with practiced familiarity, programming the small stove with similar ease. The pre made meal kits Jaster insisted all traveling comandos stock were certainly useful, and not terrible tasting, if not as good as a completely from scratch homemade meal. Jango set a timer for the food to cook and settled himself into the small booth to wait.
Jango took the time to try drafting a message to send to his buir, growling in frustration as he struggled to find the words to explain the situation he had found himself in. Writing was always difficult for him, preferring to speak face to face where his tone of voice and body language would help him get his point across, and in turn used them to better understand whom he was speaking to. After what seemed like forever, the timer on the small appliance oven dinged, and the young bounty hunter let out another sigh, gathering the meals and some electrolyte drinks onto a tray.
As the Mandalorain walked back into his bunk, he found the omega was already awake, rocking his hips softly into the bedding, a sweet, spicy, heat filled smell saturated the room. The omega’s head turned towards him, nostrils flaring slightly to take in his sent, a keen making its way from his throat.
His call to his buir would have to wait, it seemed, his last attempt at a message would have to do.
The mandalorian set the trays down, quickly pressed send on the last message he had drafted to his buir and took his pants off to join the omega in the bed. Hopefully what he had written was good enough.
‘It should be fine. Besides,’ thought Jango, ‘what’s the worse that can happen?’
—-
The Force, the Ka’ra, the Manda, Mother Nature, Magic, whatever you chose to call the energy that bound the known universe together, granted its blessed a variety of abilities. From the use of the energy itself, to foresight, to better reflexes and a stronger physical body, Obi Wan Kenobi had inherited many gifts from the Force.
The one that served him the best was what his friend Quinlan affectionately called his ‘bullshit detector.
As the thought of ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ passed through Jango Fett’s head as he walked into the room, Obi Wan Kenobi, despite being delirious with heat fever, slick slowly dripping from him, thought the words that, to anyone who knew him even slightly, spelled nothing but trouble.
‘Oh dear, I’ve got a bad feeling about something.’
The Force user lay there, hips gently rocking into the bed below him, feeling sore but not in pain. The soreness was, dare he say it, pleasant, the alpha helping him more so.
A soft keen left his throat as Jango turned towards him, inhaling his spicy aroused scent as the bounty hunter set down what was in his hands and walked towards the nest.
“Su cuy, Getal’ika, you need another round?”
Obi Wan whimpered, the sheer sound of the alpha setting his instincts off. He still had some of his wits about him though, and gathered his thoughts to answer Jango.
“Y-yes, please, I-“
“Shh, Jetii, I’ve got your six
Jango carefully yet firmly flipped him over, spreading his thighs, crawling between them, and using his own legs to keep them pried open. Warm calloused fingers brushed against his dripping hole, the tips of the mandalorian’s finger catching on the sensitive skin. After a few moments of rubbing, Jango pushed the tip of his pointer finger into Obi Wan’s ass.
The omega squirmed, the sensation strange yet oddly pleasurable, if not in the same way having his cunt penetrated was. Jango carefully worked his finger deeper, gently twisting and crooking it ever so slightly to stretch him. Obi Wan knew from reading that while being in heat certainly helped with the process of sex, proper stretching and preparation was still just as important in heat as it was outside of a heat. Before long, Jango was working his middle finger in, beginning to carefully scissor them to stretch him further. A crook of his fingers caused them to brush against a spot inside him that had him seeing stars.
“Ahh, there we go, good omega” rumbled Jango, his voice laced with arousal.
The pleasure began to coil in his gut until the omega was thrusting backwards onto Jango’s fingers, which kept occasionally brushing up against that spot that made his body light up in pleasure. Obi Wan was slowly drifting in the sensations, not noticing Jango adding a third finger, but he did feel it when Jango reached to grab his cock, gently stroking it in time with his thrusts, and it felt wonderful, but he needed more .
Obi Wan let out a whine that Jango seemed to understand.
“Shh, kuur, omega, I don’t want to hurt you, you need to be nice and stretched. Can you come for me?”
Another breathy whine escaped him as he chased the high of orgasm. After a few more moments, Jango’s fingers touched that sweet spot that finally sent him over the edge, eyes rolling back, ass clenching around the fingers inside them as slick gushed from his holes and cum spurted from his cock.
Obi Wan panted as Jango removed his fingers, feeling the bounty hunter rub his back soothingly.
“There was go, now you’re all nice and loose. Are you ready for more?” Rumbled the alpha
“Mmm, yes, please, more.”
Jango slid two fingers back in him before withdrawing them, seemingly satisfied with his work, reaching between Obi Wan’s legs to gather more slick from his pussy and slathering it onto his cock. The mandalorian carefully lined up before finally pushing in.
The slight stretch was wonderful, the thick cock rubbing against spots Jango’s fingers hadn’t, sending spark after spark of pleasure up his spine.
A ragged moan escaped as Jango began to gently thrust, the wet sound of flesh hitting flesh ringing in his ears.
Obi Wan arched his back, desperate to feel more, letting his mind drift into the growing haze of pleasure and heat. Time lost it’s meaning as Jango trusted in and out, in and out, rubbing against his tender walls. It could have been hours, minutes, even seconds, Obi Wan had no clue, but the edge finally approached, and Jango, one step ahead as he always seemed to be, shifted just right and the redhead tumbled over the edge, cock squirting cum again, and both of his holes clenching even as they grew slicker. Jango’s knot expanded, and Obi Wan was pleased to note in his heat hazed mind that the mandalorian didn’t try to pull out this time.
Obi Wan panted, and Jango gently laid atop him, nose nuzzling his hair and helping ground him after an intense orgasm. After a while, Jango’s knot deflated, and Jango rolled off to lay beside him.
“I don’t know about you, Ge’tal’ika, but I’m starving.” Jango turned to face him properly, a hand reaching out to turn Obi Wan’s face towards his. “You good to get cleaned up real quick and get something to eat and drink? I already made something for you.”
Obi Wan blinked, and a moment later, his stomach let out a soft growling sound. Jango was once again aware of what the redhead needed before the Jedi himself even knew.
“That would be wonderful, yes.”
---
Mand’alor the Reformer Jaster Mereel took off the glasses that he wore when he was out of his helmet for long periods of time, pinched his fingers on the bridge of his nose, and sighed. Where has he gone wrong with his ad?
Glancing again at his comm again, Jaster groaned aloud right as one of his trusted council members, Kal Skirata, walked in.
Kal’s eyebrow raised in what Jaster called nosiness and Kal simple curiosity, the man giving him a look before finally speaking.
“What’s happened now? Kryze giving you issues?”
Jaster shook his head. “No, this time it’s ner’ad.”
Kal’s eyebrow raised further. “And what has our esteemed ven’alor done now?”
Jaster simply tossed his comm at the supercomando.
Buir,
Found a Jedi, stole him, he’s in heat. On my way home.
“Karking sith hells, Jaster, what is the ad thinking!?” Kal exclaimed
“That’s exactly what I want to find out.”