Tumgik
#and the mando skirt cant forget the mando skirt
ddeck · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
im babygirlifying him as if my life depends on it
3K notes · View notes
downwiththeficness · 3 years
Text
A Need So Great-Chapter 13
Tumblr media
Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.
Word Count: ~4,400
Warnings: Crime Scene (murder, graphic),
A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.
Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve 
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21
The club was the largest in the city.  Lights were flashing, catching on the smoke rising from the crowd.  Eva threw back the shot and winced, the alcohol burning her throat. Music pounded in her ears, the vibration of the bass hitting her square in the chest.  Connie leaned over and yelled something, but Eva couldn’t hear it.  She looked angry, maybe a little concerned. A second later, she saw the officer.  He was speaking to their assigned body guard for the night, gesturing towards them.
He looked deeply uncomfortable in his uniform, and he was drawing not a few unkind stares.  Connie dragged her out and it wasn’t until they hit the street that Eva could hear her cursing loudly.
“We were supposed to have the night off—She was supposed to have the night off.”
The officer looked remorseful, replying in Spanish. She caught the apology. She also caught Javier’s name. Her interest piqued.
“What’s going on?”
Connie flicked her hair back from her face, hands on her hips, “They want you to come to a crime scene.”
Eva was a little more than shocked, her mouth dropping open, “What? Why?”
She shrugged, “He won’t say.”
Eva rolled her eyes, thinking that this was probably yet another time where Javi needed her eyes. She just wished it hadn’t come at a time when she was just this side of tipsy and on a girl’s night with Connie. Their outings were generally kept to a minimum, the attacks on agents, police, and their family members escalating.
Following the officers, Connie at her side, Eva headed for the jeep parked not far from the club’s entrance, her heels clicking on the pavement.  She really wished she hadn’t taken that last shot. The alcohol ran rampant through her system, and she could feel herself smile at the absurdity, even through the frustration of being called to work when she was supposed to be having fun.
The ride over was tense and almost completely silent, the streetlights passing in a blur as Eva did her best to sober up a little.  She smoothed the wrinkles of her dress, a bright red, flowy thing that swung around her knees as she walked.  She’d picked out a pair of gold high heeled sandals that were impossible to dance in for the specific purpose of being able to complain about her feet so that Connie couldn’t drag her to the dance floor every three minutes.  
When they arrived, it was to what looked like a closed scene.  Connie was asked to stay by the car and Eva was escorted towards the front door of a small office building.  It was nondescript, glass doorway, stone facing.  As she stepped towards the walkway an angry voice called out loudly behind her.
He was livid.  She could see it in the forward cant of his shoulder, in his clenching jaw, in the narrowing of his eyes.  He moved quickly, booted feet sounded across the pavement.  Eva glanced at the office at her elbow and felt not a small bit of pity. Carrillo had obviously not been informed of the invitation she’d been extended. Eva was apparently in breach of several protocols.
What surprised her was that he didn’t yell.  Carrillo spoke in a low, threatening tone that even Eva could understand.  When his head tilted to the side, she knew he’d asked a question and expected and answer pretty fucking fast. The officer stuttered and Eva almost stepped in, physically took a step forward, stopping when he shot her a look of fierce censure.
The door opened behind her and Eva swung around to see Javi walking through it, both hands up, mouth already moving.  He spoke to each of them, hands flexing as he (very likely) explained the situation.  The officer muttered something, and Carrillo hissed a reply that made the officer literally flinch, then scurry away.
“Listen, man, I was going to talk with you,” Javi started, “I just got distracted by…”
He waved towards the doors of the building. Eva followed the movement, curious about what she was about to be walked into.
Carrillo put his hands on his hips, glaring, “She shouldn’t be here.”
Javier rolled his eyes, “She’s got good eyes and we fuckin’ need ‘em.”
Not comfortable with being talked about as if she weren’t hearing it, Eva scoffed, “She is standing in high heels and would like to either get to it, or go home.”
Carrillo’s eyes dropped down, taking in her shoe choice.  Then, his eyes followed the line of her legs to the hem of her skirt, higher to the cinched in waist, sweetheart neckline, and the dainty gold chain around her throat. She preened a little, gratified by the interest sparking in his gaze.
Javi pulled his pack out of his breast pocket, tapping out a cigarette, “This is a bad one, Eva. Really gory shit going on in there.”
Eva thought he was probably forgetting that she’d bludgeoned someone to death and had dealt with that trauma rather effectively. There wasn’t much that could make her truly sick, anymore.
She shrugged, “If its too much, I’ll say so.”
Javi looked from Eva to Carrillo, who sighed, “Fine.”
He walked around Eva and opened the door, gesturing for them to enter. The lobby was elegantly decorated, a plush red carpet, smooth wooden furniture.  Eva followed Carrillo’s steps through a hallway to an office door. He stopped in front of it, looking at Eva seriously.
“You don’t have anything to prove in this room.  If you want to leave, you leave.”
Eva’s heart gave a little hiccup, her mind too curious to see what was in that room to refuse the opportunity to assuage it. She nodded, patting Carrillo’s chest and turning to look at the contents of the room.
Javi was right. This was some seriously gory shit. Eva paused, taking in the scene. Her hands gripped her clutch a little too tightly, the closure digging into the meat of her palm.
Carrillo made a sound of contempt, “Okay, let’s go.”
Eva shook her head, “No, I’m fine. What’s one more for the nightmare file, right?”
She entered the room, the smell of blood immediately assaulting her nose. Careful to follow the mapped out path the officers had created to keep the integrity of the scene, Eva made her way to the body. The room was an office—large, two storied.  A staircase led upwards towards a bookcase that lines three of the four walls on the upper mezzanine. At the back of the room was a large and ornate desk.  Sitting at the desk was a man.
His button up was open to the middle of his chest, his hands braced on the armrests of his chair. His head was tilted back and his throat was slit open, the muscles separated and the tongue pulled through to rest over the gaping wound.  
Eva was glad she’d drank a little that day.  If she hadn’t, she might have turned tail and run. As it was, she merely handed Javi her clutch and picked out two rubber gloves from the box sitting on the floor.  Taking slow, even steps, she circled the desk and leaned over the body.  His eyes were closed, but his mouth had frozen in a pained grimace.
She looked at the wound, “Whoever did this probably has medical experience, maybe a vet.”
Javi pulled his notebook from his back pocket and started scribbling.  Eva glanced around, looking at the desk and the floor.
“They didn’t do it here—or, they laid down plastic.  There’s no blood splatter.”
More scratching of pencil on paper.
The fingers of the right hand were strange, posed so that the first and middle digits were straight out, as if...Eva followed the direction. On the upper floor, there was a space between the bookcases.  In a gilt frame was a painting, or possibly a print of a painting.  Eva was pretty sure the “Birth of Venus” was hanging in a museum somewhere.
Curious, she stepped to the staircase, easing up it carefully in her heels.  
“What is it?” Carrillo called out, his arms crossed over his chest.
“That painting,” Eva answered, already moving towards it. “Its a Botticelli.”
From behind her, Eva could hear Javier give a rough chuckle.  Her attention was on the way the frame was just a little off center, hanging oddly to the left. Leaning in, she noticed a tiny red arrow, pointing towards the frame.  She eyed it, looking for further clues, widening her scope with every pass. Other than the print looking tacky when put into such an expensive frame, Eva couldn’t see anything else out of the ordinary.  She looked at the arrow again. Maybe…
With careful hands, Eva pulled the frame from the wall, setting it aside.  When she looked back at the place where it had been, she wished so fucking hard that she hadn’t touched it.  Drawn in hard, red paint was a large oblong circle, a slash striking through it from the top right to the bottom left.  Stumbling back to the railing, Eva stared at it, feeling tears forming in her eyes.
Swallowing, she tried to take a breath—tried and failed. As if from far away, she could hear her name being called.  Black spots appeared in her vision. She couldn’t get air. Her hands gripped the rail as she fought to stay upright.
This could not be happening. This simply couldn’t happen.  Eva still couldn’t breathe, a croak bleeding out from her throat. Wavering, her vision narrowed to pinpoints, the patterned carpet design swirling. She fell. She fainted.
Waking was a difficult thing. Her eyes felt scratchy, her head hurt. She was staring at the ceiling, a face appearing from her peripheral.
“Eva, talk to me. Are you alright?”
He looked...like he was freaking out. That was to be expected.  She’d just passed out at a crime scene.
“I’m…,” she had been about to say ‘okay’, but that wasn’t true. She was not okay.  She might never be okay.  
Sitting up, Eva scooted back to lean against the rail. Carrillo was on one side of her, Javier on the other, both of them kneeling. She sighed, looking up at the spray painted warning on the wall.
“I have good news and I have bad news,” she said, pushing her hair over her shoulders. “The good news is that I know who your killer is.”
Javier’s brows drew together, “How the fuck do you know that?”
Eva ignored the question, choosing to offer the good news first, “His name is Alexei Volkov, sometimes called “The Russian”, but more notably known as,” she pointed to the wall, “Zero.”
“What kind of name is that?”
Eva worked to stand, saying, “Stands for how many people he’s left alive.”
Next to her, Carrillo hovered, looking unsure as to whether or not he should touch her. His hands curled into fists and released.
“What’s the bad news?”
She swallowed, willing herself to say the words, “The bad news is that you are looking at a dead woman.”
Below, Steve hollered a tentative, “Hello?”
“Up here,” Javier called down, arching over the railing.
Tired, Eva pushed through them and headed down the staircase, walking through the room and sitting on one of the low stools near the door.
“What happened to you?” Steve asked, his voice an amiable drawl.
“Oh, you know,” Eva joked, “Just coming face to face with my own mortality.”
“What does that mean?” Horacio asked, standing nearby, his spine straight and alert.
Eva her head in her hands because she couldn’t look at any of them when she told this story, “Zero was one of Josh’s hitmen. He was brutal, efficient, and stupidly patient.  He could wait out a mark for months, as long as there wasn’t a deadline.” She pulled her toes towards her shins, relieving some of the pressure on her feet from the heels, “He was also Josh’s best friend. They spent every waking minute together, when Zero wasn’t out on a job. He was fucking everywhere.”
There were many nights Zero sat patiently in the den while Josh did whatever he was going to do to her, sometimes he watched. Most of the time, he got up and left. Passive acceptance that, if Josh couldn’t hurt her, he’d end up making some idiotic decision that would affect the influence of their trade, something Zero would have to clean up. Zero wasn’t a fan of cleaning up Josh’s messes.
She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling, “And, he was such a fucking drama queen—liked to taunt his victims, let them know he was coming for them beforehand. That’s what this,” she pointed to the wall above them, “Is about. He’s letting me know that the family has finally called in the hit on me.”
There was a beat of silence, Eva still unable to look at them.
And then Javier said, “Fuck.”
She pointed blindly at him, “Very succinct. And accurate. He’s been following me since I got here, at least. Possibly before I even left the states.”
Lifting her head, she chanced a glance at Horacio. She could see the wheels turning in his head.  He was working through this, and she knew he was already forming a plan. Her heart hurt for the fact that she would definitely have to thwart it. Zero didn’t let people get in the way of his target. She didn’t know what she would do if he became collateral damange.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she said slowly.
“One thing?” Steve asked, his voice high.
She stood, eyes glancing around the room, “He couldn’t be sure that I would find the mark, he wouldn’t know that you’d call me down here.  What he would do is make sure the message got delivered, one way or another.”
The move with the painting was artistic and flamboyant, but kind of a gamble.  Eva looked at the body. This kind of dissection wasn’t his bag.  He usually used guns, or poison if he needed to, knives if he needed to be quiet. This was too much work.  Squinting, Eva approached him, her hand reaching out for the wound.  Biting back the bile, she lifted the tongue. Yeah. There it was. With her other hand, she pushed her fingers into the throat, grasping the little container and pulling it free.
With half a turn, she held it up, “Steve, can you get these developed quickly?”
He was already opening up a plastic evidence bag, “I know a guy.”
And then she was left staring at Carrillo and Javier.  Eva pulled off the glove of one hand, balling it up in the other, and pulling the glove of the other hand over top, throwing them into a designated waste bin. She moved out of the room without another word, her mind already working through the options.
She could get home, get packed, and be out of the country in less than six hours.  Mentally, she was already going through her belongings to identify what was essential.
A hand caught her arm, stopping her. Eva turned on her heels, looking up at Horacio’s concerned face.
“Where are you going?”
She shrugged, “I have to pack.”
He frowned, “You’re going to run?”
Eva nodded.
“Won’t that break your contract?”
Shit, she’d forgotten about that. She debated the pros and cons—she’d have to keep running, both from Zero and from the US government.  In for a penny…
“No,” he said with finality, “You’re not leaving.”
Eva lifted a brow, “I’m not?”
He shook his head, taking her arm and leading her out of the building, “We’ll go to your apartment and pick up a few items.  I’ll make some calls while you pack.”
She blinked up at him while she walked, following him out to the truck. He hoisted her inside, closing the door and moving around to the driver’s side. Quick, calm, effective. It wasn’t until that engine turned over that she spoke.
“I assume you have a plan in mind,” Eva drawled, feeling just a little bit ireful. The logical part of her kept yelling that she had to put distance between them, that she had to beg as far away as possible. And yet, here she was, going along with him.
He gave one sharp nod, “There’s a safe house deep in the forest.  I’ll take you there.”
She scoffed, “Oh, sure, isolated safe house in the middle of nowhere. He’d snipe me from the trees.”
Carrillo shot her a glare that could have curdled dairy, “Its surrounded by a rock face on three sides.  Just one entrance in and out. From what you said in there, this is personal. He’s going to want to get his hands dirty—no distance kills.”
He was goddamn right. Eva felt herself scowl.
“That still leaves the trees. He’s not stupid, and he could wait us out. You can’t stay there for months on end—you have a job to do.”
“I have an omega to protect,” he countered, hands tightening on the wheel.
God, that felt good to hear.  Eva had to full body tackle the impulse to touch him, to relay how grateful she felt.
“You don’t have to,” she whispered, torn. “I can just...go. Slip out of the county—I probably have some contacts I could get ahold of, to cover my tracks.”
He made a sound that Eva couldn’t quite place, a strangled groan of deep distaste.  His hands turned the wheel, his feet applying the brakes, until they slowed to a stop on the side of the road.  
Turning to look at her, he asked, “Is that what you want to do? Leave?”
She croaked, “I want to live.”
This was a new feeling for her. Eva had spent more than half of her life either wanting it to end or existing solely for the benefit for another. And, now, when she was so close to being able to make her own choices in all things, she was faced with the realization of her own imminent demise.
Horacio cup her cheek, his thumb pressing to the little divot below her lower lip, “I’m gonna make sure that happens. Trust me.”
She wanted to. Eva wanted to trust in him more than she’d wanted anything in her entire life.  
“He’ll kill you,” she muttered, “Just to get to me.”
This was the truth. Zero had no qualms with taking out obstacles to his targets. He’d once systematically offed an entire bloodline over the course of a year in order to eliminate a fierce competitor of Josh’s.
Horacio smiled, “You think he’s the first hitman I’ve ever had to deal with?”
Involuntarily, she smiled, “With all due respect, this isn’t your typical hitman. He’s Russian, and therefore bat-shit crazy.”
Mouth quirking, he replied, “Then, he’ll fit right in with the others.”
“Horacio,” she pleaded, “I’m serious. He is dangerous.”
Taking both of her hands, he laid a kiss on both, his thumbs rubbing over them, “So am I.”
And that was that. He took her to her apartment and led her to the door, a gun in his hand and his eyes scanning for danger. Standing at the door, she watched him sweep the apartment before he let her more than two feet inside. Leaning against the wall, she smiled at him, warmed by the way he took no risks.
After he’d cleared each room, Eva dropped her clutch by the door and headed for the bedroom, tapping her answering machine as she went by.
You have one new message: “Hello, Eva.”
She froze, eyes closing as a voice from her distant past sounded in her ears.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed your reprieve,” he said, his accent thick over the modulated line, “I hope you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions. I’ll see you soon, Birdie.”
Birdie. Josh had called her that for most of their marriage, the moniker so prevalent that most of his men called her that, too. She hated it. Just hearing the name made her feel like she was fourteen again, crying and shaking because she was so God damned scared of the man she’d married.
Her name sounded—her actual name. Eva opened her eyes, staring blankly at the hallway ahead. He said her name again, and she blinked, breathing deeply.
“I’m gonna pack,” she said, stepping forward, her shoulders set. “I’ll be quick.”
And, she was. Eva put her entire life into three bags—her clothes, a few pieces of jewelry she cherished, her toiletries. It all fit into such a small amount of space that it reminded her how much she hadn’t set roots down—always moving, always leaving things behind. Quickly, she changed out of her dress and heels, setting them inside the closet.  She wouldn’t be needing them, not in the near future.
Movement sounded at the door, Horacio was tentatively stepping inside the room, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, pulling the bags up from the bed and hoisting one over her shoulder, “I’m ready.”
He spared her only a momentary glance before he was walking her out of the apartment building to his truck. From there, they drove maybe an hour, winding through the city, taking turn after turn, until they had to stop for gas.
While they waited for the attendant, Eva kept her gaze out through the window, “What about you?”
He hummed in question.
“Do you have to get your things?”
Horacio shook his head, “Trujillo is stopping by my place. He’ll meet us at the gate.”
And then they were back on the road, driving for almost two more hours in a winding path. Eva had recognized about thirty minutes in that he was checking for a tail. She thought he was doing a pretty good job of either annoying the shit out of them or losing them entirely. When they made it out of the city, the road got narrower, and it would have been very clear if someone was following them.  As it was, everything around them was dark.
The forest got thicker, crowding around them and blocking out the moonlight overhead.  Eva chewed on her thumbnail, not liking that their field of vision was so diminished. After a while, they came to an iron gate.  He pulled off the road and hopped out, gesturing for her to follow. From the bed of the truck, he pulled out her bags, setting them on the side of the road.
“Well,” he said, hands on his hips, “You’re going to get your wish.”
Eva shot him a confused look.
“We’re going to have to hike.”
Headlights appears from over the hill, coming from where they had driven in. Horacio pushed her back behind the treeline, pulling his pistol and waiting until a figure stepped out of the car.
“Carrillo!”
Next to her, Horacio relaxed, holstering his weapon, “Aquí.”
They talked for a moment, Trujillo handing off a large duffel to the other man. Eva kept her eyes on the world around her, listening for anything that might signal danger.
“We need to move,” Horacio urged, swinging his bag over his shoulder and picking up one of hers.
Looking between the two vehicles, Eva flicked out her fingers, “Won’t the truck be a dead giveaway.”
He nodded, “Trujillo will take care of it. Means we’ll be pretty much stuck up there. I’ve got supplies coming in by air tomorrow.”
She stared at him, her mouth wide fucking open in shock. When did he have the time to...how did he manage?
Pulling the bag further up onto his shoulder, he nodded to the trail, “C’mon.”
Eva mirrored him, hoisting one bag over a shoulder and carrying the other. The path wasn’t well trod, overgrown. Eva stumbled a few times, but kept pace with him as he soldiered through the brush, sweat running over her brow. They’d gone maybe a mile before the path widened drastically.  In the moonlight stood a small cabin, two stories, inviting porch. Behind it, and all around Eva could see the drop off, could hear the roll of waves.  He’d taken her clear to the ocean.
After keying in, they set their bags down in the living room, the furniture covered in sheets of varying colors.  Eva watched as he turned on a light and kicked on the air. Then, the turned her attention to the cabin, itself.
Calling it a cabin was, perhaps, not accurate.  It was a house, decorated elegantly—hardwood floors, smooth copper fixtures, splashes of bright colors here and there.
“This is...not what I imagined a safe house would be.”
He smiled, approached and taking one of her hands to lead her deeper inside, “Its a family home, on my mother’s side.”
Eva stopped, “This belongs to your family.”
Looking back, he nodded, tugging her along.
“Horacio,” Eva bit out, suddenly angry, “This would be public record. He’ll find it, and he will come here.”
His smile, when it came, was not genial, “I’m counting on it.”
“The fuck does that mean?” She pulled away, leaving them standing there, looking at each other, in dim light. Crossing her arms, she waited for an answer.
“Follow me,” he prompted, already moving down the hall again.
Against her better judgment, she did.  He led her down to what she was pretty sure was the master bedroom. It was large, windows lining one wall, a massive bed pushed against them.  Carrillo walked to a small nook in the corner and pressed one hand against it. A fucking secret door.
Eva closed her eyes, trying to quell some of her anger, before she stepped forward and through it. A small cot, a desk, and a large bureau were all that were inside. He opened the bureau and showed her a considerable stock of guns and ammunition.
“The walls are padded with three inch steel. There is an auxiliary power source and several days of rations.”
Eva’s gaze narrowed, “Its a panic room.”
She was suddenly reminded that he’d been living under the threat of assassination for a long time, and had probably had this contingency plan set up for himself, should the time come.
He nodded, “When he comes, you’ll be in here, and I’ll deal with him.”
The words caught so hard in her throat that her voice cracked, “And if he kills you.”
Stepping into her space, her pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Then, you deal with him.”
40 notes · View notes
kunoichi-ume · 5 years
Text
Dressed for the Occasion
@cinlat sent me several prompts from a list I cant find anymore so here is the first one from that round: 
“Is my outfit too festive/not festive enough?” (Noara/Torian: Give our girl Holiday feels!)
The streets of Nar Shaddaa were even more lit up than normal as Torian made his way toward the space port. It was impressive that they could find anywhere to hang up more lights between the abundant neon signs and advertisements but between the orange and yellow signs for casinos and bars were green and red trees, golden stars and white snowflakes. It should have looked gaudy and overdone, but it had a charming effect on the grimy setting.
Torian had always enjoyed Life Day but he was especially looking forward to this year. It was the first year he would get to spend the holiday with Noara and to make it even more important, it was the first year she was going to get to experience it at all. It seemed so unfair to him; the Jedi deprived her of a family, of a happy childhood, even being able to express her emotions without feeling guilty about feeling them. But holidays? How were holidays something they took away from their people? Life Day was a special day to celebrate the diverse life across the galaxy and honor the fallen, how could the Jedi have an issue with that? Thinking about everything they took from her, and the way it still affected her today no matter how hard she tried not to show it, made him angry. He tried not to show it, anger outside of battle made Noara nervous because she didn’t understand it, but he couldn't help it. She deserved to be happy. He wanted to make her happy, so happy it made up for everything she had missed out on. That meant this first Life Day needed to be perfect.
He was planning on doing everything he could to make sure of it. 
The first step was their dinner tonight, a holiday celebration with the soldiers that made up her family and a few close friends - mostly Mandos Fynta had introduced to the rest and he knew she wanted to look her best for the occasion. Torian had bought her a necklace, a fine silver chain with a single pendant of green and red crystals. He didn’t know much about jewelry, the women he had dated before Noara would sooner have a new blaster than a gemstone, but he thought she’d prefer this.
Personally he would rather have gotten her the blue pendant that was in the shop, it was almost as light and clear as her eyes, and he was still thinking about going back for it. But this one was Life Day colors and just a few days ago Noara had said she wished something in her wardrobe was properly festive for the party.
It wasn’t a full outfit, not like what she wore for Halloween - the black and red gown he still dreamed about - but it was something Torian hoped would make her less nervous about the unfamiliar event.
Torian didn’t pause before making his way up to the airlock of her ship. He had come and gone so often it almost felt like a second home to him and Noara had assured him he was welcome to come and go as he pleased - even if Cormac glared at him when he passed the galley on the way to Noara’s room and growled out that he better “keep the door open”.
The overprotective soldier still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the corruption of his adopted little sister. Torian was sure the man would try to kill him in earnest if he knew he details of what exactly went on between them behind closed doors. He waved the large man’s words off but had no intention of doing anything with Noara that needed privacy, at least not until after the party when there was more time.
Though if she decided a locked door was required far be it for him to protest.
As it was Noara’s door was already open when he reached it. Torian stopped just in the entryway at the sight of her lounging on her bed with a datapad. It wasn’t the way she was lying that stopped him in his tracks, reclining against the headboard with her legs folded to the side and giving him a rather nice view of her bottom, but her clothing. Tight green leggings under a matching skirt paired with a high necked sweater in shades of dark green and red.
He should have realized she wouldn’t need his help to dress up for the party, Fynta and Cormac had a way of talking Noara into spending the meager stipend the Jedi gave her on things for herself. Embarrassed by his assumption she would be unprepared for the night, he slipped the small box he had been holding back his pocket.
The movement drew Noara’s attention and she grinned at him. “Torian! I didn’t think I was going to see you until later,” she said, setting the pad aside and standing.
Instead of moving to meet her, Torian leaned against the doorway and watched her walk toward him. The outfit she procured hugged her figure, showing off every lean, toned curve as she moved. His heart sped up at the sight of her and he suddenly wished they didn’t have plans tonight. There was nothing he wanted more than to sweep her up into his arms and show her just how much he enjoyed her company.
Instead he waited to see what she would do when she reached him. It would kill poor Cormac to know how often Noara took the lead in the bedroom but Torian liked to let her have her way. It thrilled him how comfortable she was with him now compared to the skittishness of their first few months together.
Noara stepped up to him and slid her arms around his waist. She looked up at him and rose on her toes to tempt him into leaning down to meet her lips with a kiss. Torian smiled at the warmth of her mouth on his and, hands on her sides, pulled her tight against him. Her hip hit the box in his pocket, digging the corners painfully into both of them.
Pulling away, Noara’s eyes drifted down to his pants. “What do you have in there?
“Nothing,” he said quickly, stepping backward when she reached for his pocket.
“What are you hiding from me?” She grinned, darting forward.
Torian dodged her lunge, skirting past her and further into the room to put some distance between them. He turned around to face her just in time to be tackled to the floor. They went down in a pile of tangled limbs and laughter, finally coming to a stop with her straddling his waist and pressing his arms into the floor with the Force.
“Now what does the Mandalorian have in his pockets?” she asked, smiling smugly and leaning back to reaching for his pocket. As soon as he felt her pull the box out he bucked his hips to knock her off of him. Noara fell to the side with a surprised squeak, and the box went flying across the room. They watched it arc through the air and land near the foot of her bed.
They exchanged a look before both were scrambling across the floor. Noara pulled slightly ahead of him and Torian shoved her to the side with his shoulder. She fell to the side with a laugh as he reached out to grab the box. Just as his fingers were brushing the edge of the box it flew out of his grasp and toward Noara’s hand.
“Hah! I got it!” She cheered, grinning proudly and sitting up to examine her prize. Torian watched with bated breath as she opened the box, unsure how she was going to react to his presumptuous gesture.
The victory grin fell off her face when she saw the pendant. Red and green crystals, arranged to look like a snowblossom. “Oh Torian, it’s beautiful, but why-” Noara looked up at him and frowned, “is it for someone else?”
“What? No!” he gasped, moving across the room to kneel in front of her, shocked at her assumption. “There is no one else, you know that. I just thought,” Torian sighed and cupped her cheek, running his thumb across her scar, “I thought you might not have anything festive to wear to dinner but it seems I didn’t need to worry.”
Noara looked down at her outfit, to the necklace before smiling at him. “You for this for me? All because I felt under dressed the other day?”
Torian nodded before she lunged forward and landed in his lap. He grunted as she wound her arms tightly around his neck, hugging him tightly. His arms encircled her as soon as the surprise wore off. “Does this mean you like it?”
“Like it?” Noara pulled back to look at him, “of course I do. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever had why wouldn’t I like it?”
He gave a half shrug. “Never seen you wear jewelry, wasn’t sure if you’d want it.”
“Never had any before,” she said before smiling softly. “I kinda like the idea of you giving me the first piece I own.”
“I kinda do too.” Torian picked up the box from where she had dropped it to throw herself into his lap, “can I help you put it on?”
“Yes please.”
He removed the necklace from the box and, undoing the clasp, leaned forward to reach around her and fasten it around her neck. Before he pulled back, she gave him a quick kiss.
“I love you Torian, you know that right?”
Torian pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too.”
Noara beamed at him before looking down at the pendant. “How does it look? Is my outfit too festive? Not festive enough?”
Pulling her forward so she was straddling his lap properly Torian grinned. “You look good enough to eat,” he said before lowering his face to her neck. Noara’s laugh turned into a moan as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive skin below her ear. She buried one of her hands in his hair and closed her eyes, lost in the feel of his lips.
Her body was against his tight enough Torian knew she could feel his arousal against her thigh. His hand found the hem of her shirt and slipped under it, smoothing his way back up her spine and pulling her shirt up. She shifted, grinding against him and he groaned against her throat.
Torian was about to work on getting her shirt all the way off - he wanted to see the necklace he gave her nestled between her breasts - when a throat was cleared in the doorway behind them. Pulling away from her throat, he looked over his shoulder to see Cormac standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his massive chest.
“Did you forget why you have to keep the door open?” The soldier growled, disapproval evident in his tone.
Torian fought the urge to sigh or roll his eyes and was grateful when Noara saved him from having to respond to the upset soldier.
“Did you need something Balic?” Her voice was so causal it was as if she didn’t notice the glare the large man was sending her boyfriend.
Cormac’s attention shifted to the Jedi and his expression softened, all hostility gone. “It’s time to head to dinner, don’t want to be late for your first Life Day feast.”
Noara grinned, jumping to her feet and reaching down to pull Torian up as well. “We can’t be late, I don’t want to miss any of it.”
Torian smiled at her excitement. “Can’t have that,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her toward the door. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to her temple as they walked. “Happy Life Day Noara.”
21 notes · View notes