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Running

summary: just when reader thinks to be on the last maker-forsaken corner of the galaxy, they meet Pyre again.

relationship: Commander Pyre x GN reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

A/N: recently finished watching star wars resistance and uh,, yeah i’m simping for a golden tin can. what can i say.

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

The sky and ocean's blues engulf the Colossus as you go about your day on the station. It hasn’t been too long since you came here. You’re kind of on the run, but not really. It's more like you're looking for a fresh start. The First Order, The New Republic; they're all the same to you. The only thing you want is to be left alone. So you came here to work and save up some money to start anew.

Mainly you worked as a mechanic, but you’d also wait in Aunt Z’s tavern whenever you could and whenever she needed. You were friendly with everyone so any time someone had some credits to spare, you’d get decent tips.

Lately though there have been weird rumours going around, about the First Order coming onto the Colossus. You ignore them for the most part, as it seems highly unlikely; this is just a random platform out somewhere in the endless oceans of a planet in the Mid Rim. You fail to see any strategic value this place could bring to the First Order.

To your dismay, the next day you spot a command shuttle locking onto Doza’s tower. You feel the urge to run to your quarters and take a look into your safe hidden behind the desk, to see if you have enough credits to get out before they inevitably shut down the whole place, as you’re sure they’ll do. But before you can get out of the tavern, Aunt Z tells you that Doza asked for an order and you’re to bring it up to him and some "special guest".

You've been to the tower a couple of times before, when the Aces wanted to get something delivered to their lounge mainly. Other than that, you didn’t get to spend time in that part of the Colossus. It was actually rare for Doza to ask for drinks or food to the tower, but as you inspect the tray in your hands, you realise it holds the expensive stuff; the one that Aunt Z would stash away for special occasions, or for very esteemed guests, you suppose.

You get to the elevator and tell the guarding Stormtrooper what you’re here for. After taking a closer look at your tray, he lets you pass. Once the doors close and you feel the push upward, you can’t help the slight shake of your hands. Taking a deep breath you remind yourself that you’re not on the First Order’s radar, that no one here knows you, you’re good. Besides, I didn't do anything bad or commit a crime, so why am I this nervous?, you ask yourself.

Ah, but you know why. There is only one person in the First Order you’re familiar with, and the chances of him being here are incredibly slim, null really. And yet, that teeny tiny possibility is enough to have your heart racing, and you're not sure if it's excitement or dread.

When the elevator chimes as it arrives on the top floor, Doza’s office, you put on your best customer service smile, and start moving forward. The moment you take your first step though, the room starts spinning and everything comes to a halt all at the same time as your eyes fall on the ever shiny, unmistakable golden armour. The Commander turns around to look in your direction. If he recognises you, he doesn’t show it.

Taking a sharp breath, you quietly approach the desk, putting down two glasses and serving up the beverage. Captain Doza thanks you and you respond with a nod, trying really hard not to look at the Trooper sitting across from him. With a short bow in Doza’s direction you excuse yourself, quickly going back to the elevator. You're holding the tray so tightly in your hands you're scared it might bend.

Once you're out of the tower, you beeline for your room instead of the tavern. Pushing the desk with more force than necessary, you kneel down on the floor and are about to open your safe when you get comm'd by someone in the hangar asking for your help. With a sigh you respond you’ll be there shortly. Taking one last look at the safe, you shake your head and click your tongue in annoyance, pulling the desk back to where it was.

You make a quick stop by the tavern first to return the tray and inform Aunt Z you're needed for repairs, and she lets you go as business is quite slow right now.

With quick strides you make your way towards the hangar, mentally planning how much a transport out of here would cost, how far it could bring you, and what place you should choose next. Perhaps Rattatak, Takodana, or the Endor System? Your thoughts trail off to the Trooper you saw earlier. And you mentally reprimand yourself for the beat your heart skips when you think of him. You were so close to forgetting, to moving on. But no, he had to appear at the worst possible timing.

Coming to a sudden halt in the hallway, you look at your distorted reflection on the dirty and uneven metallic wall panel. You may not be running from the First Order as a whole, but you suspect you’re running from him.

Wherever he goes, chaos seems to follow. You had really wanted it to work out. But he’s too stubborn and arrogant for his own good. You tried showing him that the First Order is a lost cause, that history was repeating itself. You tried asking him to go away with you. But he chose his golden attire with a matching blaster over you.

What hurts the most though is knowing that under the mask, if you peel away all those betaplast layers, there is a man you could see yourself loving for a long time. You had given him your heart, your entire being, much too soon perhaps. And the truth is: you miss him.

Taking a deep breath, you avert your eyes from your reflection with a sensation akin to shame. The hangar isn’t far, and you should be there shortly. But just as you’re taking another step, you hear your name being called from behind you, and you freeze. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, no matter how modified it was through the helmet.

With a shaky breath you turn around to see Pyre with a Stormtrooper on each side.

“Leave us,” he commands, and the troopers obey, leaving you now alone with him in the deserted hallway.

“Well, if it isn’t the golden tin can,” you try to sound snarky but your voice lacks conviction.

He approaches you, and you instinctively take a step back. At that he stops in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the tone still pretty harsh.

“That’s none of your business,” you retort with a scoff, narrowing your eyes at the black visor of his helmet.

“You can’t keep running,” Pyre says, resuming to walk towards you, but slower this time.

“I’m not,” you lie.

“So, after seeing me, you weren’t planning on leaving tonight on one of the transports?” he questions rhetorically. “To Takodana perhaps?”

You grimace at how well he knows you; he could always read you like a book. Meanwhile you don't know what he was thinking half of the time because of that damn helmet of his.

Realising how close he is coming, you take a couple more steps back, only to be met with a wall where the hallway turns a sharp curve. Seeing the chance, Pyre takes the last couple quick strides needed, coming to stand right in front of you in an instant, one arm on each side on the wall caging you in. You avert your eyes to the side, unable to look at him even through the darkly tinted visor, as you know that he knows he has you wrapped around his finger.

“What do you want from me?” you ask, your hands coming up to his chest plate, in a weak attempt to push him away. He doesn’t budge, nor does he answer.

“Pyre, please,” you plead in a quiet voice. “Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want a part in it.”

“Why did you leave?” he suddenly asks, and you almost thought it was pain in his voice, but that would be highly unlikely.

“What do you mean why?” you retort with a dry chuckle. Your hands move on their own as they straighten up his shoulder pad, which was hanging a little low to the left. You blame it on muscle memory. “You made it plenty clear you didn’t want me by your side, and I don’t have to be told twice.”

“That’s not true,” Pyre says, and you raise a questioning brow at him.

“Which part? I took the hint–”

“I never said I don’t want you by my side,” he clarifies, and you’re not sure if you should be flustered or enraged.

“Uhm, yeah you did–” you try to freshen his memory but he interrupts you again.

“You essentially gave me an ultimatum,” he hisses, and you can hear him taking a deep breath to calm himself. “I am a Commander of the First Order, and that won’t change. But I still want you by my side.”

His hands slide along the wall and over your shoulders, until they gently hold onto your arms, as if to underline the point he’s trying to make. His touch alone, even through gloved hands and the thick fabric of your jumpsuit, sends sparks over your skin.

“Please, I- I cannot bear to be apart from you anymore," he whispers.

Your head starts spinning; one inner voice is telling you to run, while the other is telling you to take that damn bucket off his head and smash your lips against his. But you manage to keep some self-control. With a shuddering breath, your hands come up to hold the sides of his helmet. You can see your own reflection on it, but you look beyond, searching for the pair of eyes that hide behind it you know all too well, and yearning to see them again.

“Neither can I,” you admit, unlocking the helmet, which releases with a hiss, and you slowly start lifting it. You can already feel the stubble on his jaw with your fingers. Just a little more…

“Not here,” Pyre growls, one hand pushing the helmet back down to lock it into place again. You pout at him and he gives a low chuckle that sends tingles down your spine.

“Grab your things and I’ll meet you back at the ship,” Pyre offers, voicing it more like a suggestion than an order.

“Okay,” you say, pulling him closer by the shoulders so you can place a quick kiss on his helmet where his mouth would be. And with that, you go back the way you came.

You could still feel Pyre’s look on you as you walked down the hallway, heat prickling on your cheeks and neck. This man would be the death of you.

— — —

A/N 2: you're surprised i write for pyre? that makes two of us lol if you want more let me know!<3

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