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weemssapphic · 6 months

Note

Good evening, my internet-lawfully wedded wife. I would like to request that Hanahaki Phasma story please? 🥺🥺🥺

Hello 💖 Thanks for the request, lovely 🥺 I finally had an idea for how to write this and I am very happy with how it turned out - and nervous as I've never written for Phasma before. I hope you like it, regardless of the angst 🥺 Thank you to @dianneking for beta-ing and helping me with the title, it means a lot 🫶🏼

Forget-me-not

Captain Phasma x f!reader

Summary: Of all the people you could’ve fallen in love with, it had to be Captain Phasma. Could your love for her be your death sentence?

Words: ~3.1k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: Hanahaki disease trope, angst, no happy ending, mentions of blood + death, character death, briefly nsfw (light smut - minors DNI)

Icy blue eyes stare deeply into your own, pale pink lips are curled up into a devilish, seductive smirk. Phasma’s face is flushed and her pupils are dilated as she watches you come undone above her, bucking your hips against her and coating her abdomen in your arousal as you chase your high.

You’ve had sex with Phasma a handful of times now, which is strange in and of itself. You’ve heard plenty of stories about her since starting with the First Order – stories of one-night stands, lovers being used, abused, and discarded – threatened into silence, fired, even disappearing.

It would be dangerous to assume that you’re special – that you somehow mean more to Phasma than the other women she’s slept with. No one means anything to Phasma, that is one thing she has made abundantly clear. Phasma is the only person who means anything to Phasma. Everyone else is disposable, a means to an end – in this case, the end being her own sexual pleasure.

But then why has she let you into her bed time and time again? At first, she was demanding and dominating, relentless; taking, taking, taking. You cried during your first time with her – you were so overstimulated, yet she wouldn’t let up, and she punished you any time you tried to touch her. After that, you feared you’d be discarded like the rest – but then it happened again. And again. And then, one night, Phasma even allowed you to touch her. Watching the Captain Phasma reach the height of her pleasure on your fingers was something akin to a religious experience – you were ready to worship the woman, to give your soul over to her after hearing her moan and feeling her body shudder against your own. She’d taken her helmet off for the first time that night as well – you were immediately struck by her beauty. The planes of her face had a softness to them that had thrown you off-guard, her eyes – blue, oh so blue, oceans you could drown in – felt hypnotizing as they pierced your own. She’d been reluctant at first, but somehow – somehow – you’d managed to convince her – it must get quite hot and uncomfortable under that helmet after all. After the threat of torture methods that you hadn’t even heard of, ensuring you would never so much as think of telling a soul about seeing the great Captain without her helmet, she’d revealed her face to you.

And now, looking down at that charismatic, captivating smirk through the lustful haze of your fourth orgasm, you know you’ve gone and made the most fatal error you could possibly make.

You’ve fallen in love with Captain Phasma.

~~~

And what a fatal error, indeed.

After your latest rendezvous in Phasma’s quarters, you see her next at training the following morning. The bright fluorescent lights bounce off the chrome of her armor, flawlessly polished – though your mind is rather stuck on what lies underneath. Silken blonde locks, slicked back to emphasize her cheekbones, the curve of her jaw. Long, muscular arms and large, slender hands; rock-hard abs and legs that seem to go on for miles, with thick thighs that you can’t help but picture wrapping around your head. After seeing the fearsome Captain outside of her armor, you fear you can never unsee it – and you’ll always be left wanting, yearning for more.

Perhaps there would be a way to convince her that you’re worth more than a quick fuck – you can’t stop thinking about those strong arms wrapping around your waist in your post-coital haze, fingertips tenderly caressing your bare flesh as soft lips press chaste kisses all over your face. You would look into her eyes – which would fill with affection – and tell her you love her, and she would say it back with a smile on her face.

Cough.

You’re caught by surprise at the sound that bubbles forth from your chest, tickling your throat.

“FN-196, is something the matter?”

Phasma’s voice is cool and collected – dangerous. You shouldn’t have made a peep – but you can’t help it. Another cough tickles the back of your throat and forces its way out – you try to stifle it but that just makes the coughing fit worse.

“N-no-“ cough “I’m sorry-” cough “It w-wo-“ cough “It won’t happen again, Captain.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and straighten your back as Phasma stalks towards you, stopping right in front of you. She’s inches away from your face, though she’s tall enough that you’d have to crane your head back just a bit to look up at her. You don’t – you think she might kill you if you do, so you look straight ahead at your reflection in her armor.

She looks down at you for a moment, her head tilted ever so slightly – you wish you knew what she was thinking. Does she really hold any shred of affection for you, does she favor you at all? Or is she plotting the quickest way to dispose of you?

“One more sound and I’ll have you scrubbing TIE fighters all weekend.”

Merciful.

You nod curtly. “Yes, Captain.” You don’t dare say anything else.

~~~

After your little coughing fit, you briefly worry that you’ve caught a cold. You seem to be in the clear, however – you don’t cough again after that, not for a few days.

But then it happens again, as you’re walking past Phasma in the corridor. One moment you’re fine, the next you look up and see her walking towards you. You come to a halt and step aside to allow her to pass, a sign of respect. She affords you the smallest of nods – an acknowledgement that makes you swoon – and that’s when it happens. You cough, more violently this time, as though your lungs have run out of air and are shriveling up as a result.

Phasma stops in her tracks and turns towards you, staring. Waiting for the coughing to stop. It does, eventually, and you feel your cheeks burn. You know she can’t see it underneath your helmet, but you’re certain she can sense your embarrassment in the way your shoulders droop and your hands begin to fidget as you stutter out an apology.

“Are you ill?”

“N-no, Captain, I don’t think so.” You shuffle from foot to foot – you can feel another coughing fit coming on, and you really don’t want Phasma to be around for that. “Just a tickle, must’ve breathed in some dust.” Right. Through your helmet. As if Phasma would believe that.

She hums, giving you a once over. You squirm.

“Good.”

She turns and starts to walk away. “Come to my quarters tomorrow night.”

Your heart flutters as you watch her round the corner, disappearing from view.

Cough.

~~~

“Mmh, oh- f-fuck,” you mewl, as Phasma’s hips slam into yours at a brutal pace, her dildo disappearing inside of you as she thrusts the entire length into your cunt. A bead of sweat collects at her temple, rolling slowly down her flushed cheek. Her hair sticks to her forehead, falling into her eyes – hungry eyes that devour you as she ravishes you. Her lips are parted to let out quiet grunts, her abs ripple with exertion and her biceps flex as she holds herself above you.

Your eyes roll back in your head as the dildo reaches deep inside of you – your breath quickens and you feel a guttural moan tear from your throat as your orgasm hits you, your walls clenching around Phasma’s cock. She’s relentless – she doesn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm and even after, as you sink into the mattress and try desperately to regulate your breathing.

Phasma reaches her own peak and tumbles over it, and it’s a glorious sight. Her jaw goes slack and her eyelids fall shut, a broken moan slips past her lips. Her entire body trembles a bit and her hips stutter in their movements. The fact that she can get off by watching you cum is incredibly arousing to you, and it makes you feel special.

She removes the harness and the dildo and tosses it on the floor beside the bed, before lying down next to you – not to cuddle, no, never to cuddle – just to rest for a moment and recover from her orgasm. You turn your head to glance over at her. Her eyes are shut, allowing you to admire her openly. She’s breathing heavily, her cheeks are red, her forehead is sweaty. She looks heavenly, divine even.

You wish she would let you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close. You wish she would let you feel her lips against your own. You wish she would let you card your fingers through her hair and caress her jaw and tell her how much you love her, and you wish she would say it back. You wish-

Cough.

Oh no. Not again.

Phasma’s eyes shoot open and she looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. You avoid her gaze as your lungs constrict and you cough again, and again. Something tickles your throat – it’s as if something is stuck there. You cough harder – it has to come out. Covering your mouth, you cough again, and feel something soft hit your palm.

A small, blue flower petal. Your eyes widen in horror as you stare at the petal in your hand.

No. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. It can’t-

“What is that?” Phasma asks. Her brows are knit together and she cranes her neck to try and get a look.

“N-nothing” cough “it’s nothing.”

But Phasma isn’t one for playing games. Long, slender fingers curl around your wrist, vice-like in their strength – a snake devouring its prey, and she forces you to show her what you’ve coughed up.

Her upper lip twitches.

A billion micro-expressions cross her face, too quickly for you to place any one of them. When she looks you in the eyes a moment later, her face is devoid of any expression at all.

“It’s time you leave. Don’t be late for training tomorrow.”

You don’t need to be told twice – the hard edge to her voice scares you, so you clamber out of her bed and dress as quickly and as quietly as you can, your cheeks burning as you feel Phasma watching your every move. You hurry to leave, leaving the flower petal nestled among the sheets.

Phasma stares at it as you leave. She knows what it means. She’s no fool – she’s seen the way you look at her, how eager you are to please her – both in work and in sex.

An intense, burning rage fills Phasma - her insides suddenly feel like molten lava, her heart pounds viciously. If you die, Phasma will lose one of her best stormtroopers - and one of her best lovers. And you will die, if it's Phasma you’re in love with.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to love you back. There’s a reason she’s let you warm her bed for so long, after all. You’re skilled with your tongue, certainly, and you look so enticing when you’re being fucked into oblivion. But there’s something else – something Phasma doesn’t quite understand, something she’s never felt before. It’s not love, at least she doesn’t think it is – it’s nothing like how other people describe love, a feeling that Phasma doesn’t ever recall feeling.

But it’s something, and it’s been so long since Phasma has felt anything. Around you, in those brief moments after sex just before she kicks you out of her bed, she feels just a little lighter. Her usual anger is subdued, a dying ember where there’s usually a roaring flame.

It’s not enough, though. She knows this. She knows you know this – you must know this.

You’re a fool – a damned fool – Phasma thinks. Only an idiot would fall in love with her.

~~~

As is to be expected, your illness gets worse. You begin to disrupt training with your coughing – Phasma finds this annoying as is, but what she finds even more annoying is the unfamiliar sense of guilt that gnaws at her stomach, knowing she’s the cause of your… distress.

She dismisses you from training – the others will get suspicious, and your performance is lacking anyway. It’s best if you stay in your quarters.

She goes to check on you one day, in the middle of the night. Briefly, she wonders if she should have come at a more reasonable hour, but then she hears the coughing through your door and she knows you haven’t been able to fall asleep yet anyway.

You answer the door, your eyes bleary and your face pale. There’s blood trickling down your chin and a few small, crushed flower petals cling to the sweaty fabric of your nightgown. And yet, you smile at her. She tilts her head – why are you smiling? You’re a fool – a damned fool.

“It’s progressed then?” she asks. The modulator in her helmet keeps her voice level, and for that she is grateful.

Your eyes fill with sadness but your smile – soft, gentle – never wavers. You nod and open your mouth to speak, but you’re interrupted by another coughing fit, and bloody flower petals spill out of your mouth and onto Phasma’s boots.

Phasma looks down at the stained chrome, then back up at you.

“I-I’m” cough “sorry” wheeze “I-I’ll c-clean it-“

“Leave it.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks redden, but you don’t dare argue.

Phasma turns her head to the right, then to the left. The corridor is empty. She takes a step towards you, into your quarters, until she’s nearly flush against you. Lifting her hands to her head, she removes her helmet, and cool blue eyes pierce your own. Your smile is back now, and she doesn’t understand – in fact, it makes her a little uncomfortable. A smile like that has rarely been directed at her (even if there is blood dribbling down your chin and your eyes are slightly unfocused) – it takes all her willpower to maintain eye contact.

“You shouldn’t have fallen in love with me.” Her tone is lacking noticeably in bite, though neither of you acknowledge this fact.

“I know.”

Cough.

“You’ll die.”

“I know.”

Wheeze.

Phasma’s lip twitches and her eyes dart between your own. Your smile is steady and true, even as your eyes fill with tears.

Phasma knows what she should say – what anyone else in her position would say. ‘I’m sorry’. Except she can’t say it, because she isn’t. Is she? She’s unsure – she’s never actually felt sorry for anything, not even for betraying her own family. Why should some random woman, a subordinate of hers at that, change that?

She remains silent. She nods curtly. You stifle another cough as you nod back, blinking slowly – it appears as though, somehow, you understand. As though you know that Phasma even bothering to show up in your quarters at all before your body leaves this galaxy is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

“You d-don’t h-have” cough “to love me b-back. Just d-don’t” cough “for-forget me.”

You chuckle. Phasma doesn’t think it’s funny. She blinks, puts her helmet back on.

“Goodnight, FN-196.”

She doesn’t spare you another glance as she leaves.

~~~

Early one morning, Phasma is called to your quarters – as your superior, if something has happened, she needs to be informed.

And Phasma immediately knows what’s happened. Underneath her helmet, her eyes scan your body – limp, pale, covered in blood and flower petals. Even worse off than the last time she saw you. Usually, such a gory sight stirs up a sort of crazed bloodlust deep within Phasma’s soul, a gleeful sort of giddiness. Only now, when it’s you covered in blood and sweat, unmoving, she feels no such thing.

Her lips curl into a frown – wrong way, wrong way, she should be smiling! She shouldn’t be upset!

Sometimes, when one is confronted with death, they regret. They think of all the things they wished they’d said, they wish for one more moment with the person they care for.

Phasma doesn’t regret. She knows she couldn’t have told you how she feels about you anyway. How does she feel about you? Perhaps, she could have told you that when she’s with you, she feels for the first time. But would that have been enough to save you? No, probably not. And perhaps it’s better this way. It would have gotten messy – Phasma doesn’t mix work and relationships (only casual sex, only ever casual sex, only with people who are disposable). She’s not even sure she was built for a relationship – in fact, she’s certain she wasn’t.

So, no, Phasma doesn’t wish for one more moment with you in which she would profess her undying love (is she capable of such a thing?) and see the bright smile on your face when you realize your affection is returned. But her heart does ache a little – just a little twinge, really, in a very foreign sort of way – and, when she thinks of never feeling your silken skin under her fingertips again, her stomach twists.

The stormtrooper tilts his head. “What should I do with her, Captain?”

Phasma’s gaze never leaves your body, even as she’s addressed directly. What should one do with you? The thought of doing anything at all makes her heart clench.

But she can’t show weakness.

She can’t.

She swallows thickly. Discreetly.

Blinks twice.

Then her face hardens. The stormtrooper can’t see it underneath her helmet anyway, but it’s part of her mask. She has to play the part if she’s going to keep the respect of her troops. Self-preservation has always been vital to her, after all.

“Take her away.”

The stormtrooper shrugs and slings your body over his shoulder, before carrying you out of the room – carelessly, like a doll. Phasma grits her teeth – you should be treated like a precious thing, carried bridal style and showered with kiss- no. What is she thinking? You’re nothing but a corpse now, it hardly matters how your body is treated. Except, for some reason, it matters a lot to Phasma, though she cannot let on to that.

She waits.

She waits until the door closes and the footsteps of the stormtrooper’s boots against the cold metal floor fade.

Her gaze falls to the floor where, amongst a few droplets of blood, a single, tiny, blue forget-me-not petal rests.

A single tear drips down her cheek, catching on the inside of her helmet.

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milfmuses · 1 year

Text

Assistant Captain

A/N: Phasma fic time! This is a long fic, so get comfy and prepare for a little fun ;) Comments requesting fic ideas are always welcome! I love feedback, especially with your thoughts and reactions. Many many thanks to the lovely @weemssapphic for being a beta reader, I look up to you sm! Please go check out her blog <3

Captain Phasma x femreader

Summary: Becoming the right hand to Captain Phasma has some unforeseen results. After moving into her quarters, your ever-growing feelings for your superior blossom.

Warnings: rough smut, fluff, masturbation, strapon (reader receiving), soft and dominant Phasma, submissive reader, use of safeword, filthy dirty talk

Today was the day. You had been waiting eagerly to prove yourself to Captain Phasma and become her right hand. The Captain requested skilled soldiers and lieutenants like yourself for interviews, searching for the one to aid her against the Resistance by her side. As a self-taught skilled fighter and educated lieutenant, you immediately prepared for the opportunity once the Captain made the announcement.

-----

You march confidently down the flagship halls, making your way toward Phasma’s office. You straighten your hat and uniform collar, wanting to present yourself as a professional. Surely, the Captain would only expect perfection from her right hand, so perfection you will embody. Inside, however, you are quite the opposite. Your hands are sweaty and your head spins with anxiety at what is to come. Captain Phasma is a decorated woman who exudes strength, power, and coldness. She prides herself on efficiency and order, using fear and calculated tactics to keep her soldiers in line. Although you are only a rank below her, Phasma instills a nervousness within your body and mind that you cannot shake.

You shake your head to rid yourself of any last-minute anxieties as you near the door to her office. With a quick, sharp knock, you wait patiently with your hands clasped together behind your back.

“Enter.” Phasma’s piercing voice muffled by the metal door falls upon your ears. You take a deep breath and press the button. The door opens instantly, and what you see as you step into the room causes the pit in your stomach to grow.

There stands the Captain behind a cold metal desk, her shining armor reflects the overhead lights that remind you of the interrogation chambers. She is almost completely still, the only sign of humanity is her chest rising and falling with each breath.

You rapidly walk to the seat at her desk, not daring to sit until after you address her properly.

“Captain,” you greet with a nod.

“Lieutenant, you may sit.” Her voice echoes through her mask and you lower onto the hard seat.

You keep eye contact, afraid that any signs of hindering confidence will reduce your chances of getting the promotion. Captain Phasma sits too, the slight clank of her armor breaking the deafening silence.

“So Lieutenant L/N, I have reviewed your file and studied your work from a distance. I do believe you are a fine candidate for this assistant position. You are aware that although your rank will be changed from Lieutenant, this is most certainly a promotion?”

“Yes Captain, I have reviewed the announcement fully and I also understand that I will be staying in quarters next to your own if I am to be promoted. I would be honored to serve next to you as an exceptional aide and personal soldier. I take pride in being the best at what I do and aim to serve directly under you with undying loyalty.”

Phasma sits in silence for a few moments, as if considering your words carefully and studying your appearance. You pray she misses the way your hands clasp tightly together in your lap and the way your breathing is almost too even to be natural as if you are forcing yourself to appear collected. Certainly, she cannot see how your confidence is a mere farce, can she?

The painful quietness finally ends as she reaches forward with her gloved hand to push a stack of documents before you.

“After careful consideration and observations of each candidate over time, I would like to offer you the new position, Lieutenant L/N. If you accept, I will send someone to fetch your belongings and move you into your new space, effective immediately. I just need you to read and sign below to officially solidify you in the position.”

You bite back a smile, excited that you succeeded in the interview and are about to start the new position. After picking up a pen and signing your name, you look back up to your superior. Phasma tilts her head as if waiting for something until you remember you need to formally accept.

“Thank you, Captain, I accept the position and I am ready to begin.”

The tall woman rises before you and extends her arm for a handshake, and you stand as well to place your hand in her grasp.

With a firm single shake, she speaks again.

“From here on out, you will be regarded as Assistant Captain L/N, the right hand of Captain Phasma. I will personally see to it that you are given clearance above Lieutenants and are treated in a similar fashion to myself. I will not tolerate any slacking or any mistakes, nor will I accept less than absolute excellence. Do you understand?”

Anxiety floods your veins at the pressure of remaining exemplary under the Captain’s wing, but you ignore it and remember how large this opportunity is to pass up.

“Yes Captain Phasma, I understand. You have my word.”

“Very well then, let me lead you to your new quarters.”

The Captain rounds her desk and signals you to follow.

-----

A dark chrome door much like the armor of the woman in front of you opens as she enters a code, the lights within the room switching on.

You follow directly behind and are now in a small entryway, with one door on the right, one on the left, and one straight ahead. It is symmetrical and uniform, just how you expected Phasma’s quarters to look. Not a single image or decoration graces the barren grey walls, leaving a clean but dull look to the room.

“There is a large walk-in closet on the right with areas to store your armor and weapons. Any item requests like soap and polish will be delivered to that room. I have strict security and all deliveries must be scanned and dropped off by my personal messenger, so please do not worry about your privacy or items being stolen.”

You nod and move with her away from the closet and between the two remaining doors.

“The room in the center is my quarters, while yours is past the door on the left. You have a personal bathroom within your room along with proper accommodations. I think you will find it much more comfortable than your previous living area. As my Assistant Captain, you have the honor of sharing my quarters, do not make me regret opening my personal area to house you or I will not hesitate to fire you.”

You shift uncomfortably at her harshness, the giddiness of being hired starting to wear off. Nonetheless, you mutter a quick affirmation and look to her for further instruction.

“Now, I am about to do something that nobody has ever done before. You will never speak of what occurs here now or any other instance within these quarters do you understand? I will have you used as target practice for the next batch of pathetic soldiers to practice on and personally have a front-row view of your laughable death. Answer me.”

Your heart hammers as the cruel threat is processed in your mind, fear pushes you to respond more panicked than you intend.

“Yes Captain, I understand.” You stand at attention but remain tense, as you expect some sort of inhumane initiation into your place as her aide.

Rather, the towering woman brings her hands up just under her helmet, lifting and releasing the air-tight seal as you gape in shock. The image you see next you want to repeat over and over until it is burned into your mind.

Pale white skin hits the light as her helmet is removed. Pink lips are drawn into a harsh line and blonde eyebrows are furrowed in a serious manner. What really draws you in is those icy blue eyes, piercing and beautiful, staring directly at your face. Her hair is a mess of loose blonde curls, short and slightly unkempt from the helmet always on her head. You cannot deny that she is a stunning woman. How she has kept that natural beauty hidden beneath her suit of armor for so long, you will never know. But for now, you are sinfully delighted to be one of the few or maybe the only one to gaze upon your superior’s face.

Your gaping is interrupted by the Captain’s voice, stunning you even more at how attractive it sounds unaltered by the technology within her helmet.

“Since you will be spending a lot of time with me here, on missions, and anywhere else we are needed, I find it necessary to show you my face. You are to be my confidant and keep secrets only we can know. Therefore, I share with you a secret that only a select few in my past have kept.”

If you weren't trying to keep your fluttering heart under control before, you certainly are now. Sexuality is an untouchable topic within the First Order. It isn’t that homosexuality was looked down upon, but the serious environment and professionalism that all soldiers and members must maintain prevent any sort of personal conversation from taking place. There was no way that the gorgeous woman staring back at you could know that you were attracted to women. You would never let your emotions get in the way of work, especially since acquiring this rare role in the First Order, so you did your best to conceal any hint of attraction towards Captain Phasma.

“Thank you Captain for sharing your appearance with me, you have my loyalty and promise of confidentiality when it comes to anything between us.”

You applaud yourself internally for keeping it professional, but the Captain seems to sense that you are hiding some sort of reaction or emotion. Whether she notices or not, she dismisses you to explore your new room and enters her own.

You hear her door slide shut and you take in the space that now belongs to you. Your items from your Lieutenant quarters are placed in the closet already, and your private items are placed inside the drawers. Remembering a certain collection of adult toys that you had in the back of your previous closet, you shove your clothes around searching for the box in a panic. Thankfully, you find that the box is unopened, and breathe in deeply to settle your nerves.

You continue your journey throughout your new space and find that there is a rather large shower, sink, and toilet in the bathroom. Once the small tour is complete, you lay back against the plush pillows and run your fingers over the silken sheets. You could get used to this.

-----

Now in your soft pajamas and tucked under the covers, your mind wanders to all that occurred today. A new job, a new room, a new rank, and most interesting of all, a new superior. Oh, how that gorgeous face is etched into your mind.

Her helmet hair that you so want to run your fingers through. Her sharp cheekbones that your thumbs ache to run over. Those pursed lips that your own beg to melt against. Those electric blue eyes that hold your gaze like a trance. Your brain is holding onto the professionalism hammered into you over the years, but your heart craves something much less innocent than acceptable.

You come to the realization, the horrifying truth, that you, her right-hand woman and most trusted soldier, are infatuated with your Captain.

Before you allow your mind to dwell on this fact any further, you get up and turn off the lights. Maybe sleep can rid your growing emotions and shameful thoughts, so you lay back down while tugging the blankets over your body, squeezing your eyes shut, and hoping that you’ll drift off. The mental toll on your body that the day caused finally caught up to you, so exhaustion aids in your sleep when you easily slip into unconsciousness.

-----

Bright overhead lights bring you back, your alertness slightly lacking from how amazing you slept. Your groggy state reflects how wonderful your new bed is treating you, the warmth and plushness of each pillow and blanket make you feel so relaxed. Not wanting to slack on your first official day as the Assistant Captain, you rise and get ready for the day. The cold bathroom floor helps wake you up as you brush your teeth and go through your morning routine. You notice that there is a new armored uniform in your closet that you must have missed last night. You lay the new clothing across your bed, smiling to yourself.

The armor was somewhat thin but protective, the same chrome as Captain Phasma’s now embellished on your ankles, knees, elbows, chest, and shoulders. There are red fabrics sewn within the undersuit mixed with black, mirroring the cape that Phasma wore. A blush overtakes your face knowing that your uniform was tailored to match your Captain’s. You slip into your new outfit and face the floor-length mirror beside your bed. You look good. Really good.

Pulling your hair into a neat bun, you finish the attire with your favorite combat boots. Just as you are about to tie your laces, three loud knocks sound against your door.

Finishing your last knot and pressing the button to open the door, you are greeted by Captain Phasma. Her entire chrome armor set is adorned, gun in holster and all. When she focuses on your presence, you are unsure if her rising chest pauses for a split second.

“Good day Assistant Captain, I assume you rested well in your new chambers?”

“Yes, Captain, I slept well. Thank you for the new armor, I will take good care of it.”

Your captain nods, accepting your thanks graciously.

“Today we will be overseeing a new training exercise for our soldiers. I would like you to act as my eyes and ears in deciding which troopers have potential and should be considered for specialized squads. I will be there as well but focusing on the success of our new evaluation system. I am trusting you with the future of our First Order troopers, so this will be a first test of your adequacy.”

Normally Captains do not give this much power to those ranked below them, so Captain Phasma handing you such a significant role instantly surprises you.

“Yes Captain, you have my full devotion to this task and I will not disappoint.”

“As I expect, Assistant Captain. I have already eaten my meal in my room so I will meet you at the training area after you are finished in the dining hall. You are dismissed.”

She struts past you, her red and black cape billowing behind her. You once thought her presence was fear-inducing, but after seeing what is underneath that armored helmet, your heart skips a beat at seeing her confidently march away.

You open the closet door and find a room lined with shelves, clothing hooks, a wall of weapons, and a table in the center with drawers built into the sides. There is a large box in the corner that you assume deliveries are slipped into. Making your way to the armory wall, you pick a standard blaster rifle that almost matches your captain’s. It has the same chrome finish, but red lines are adorned on the grooves of the barrel. It is a beautiful weapon, one that you promise to wield with care.

After the rifle is hooked onto your belt, you leave the closet and head out the front door towards the dining hall.

-----

Training went well, and so did your observation skills. Captain Phasma agreed with your picks for the top troopers, leaving you full of pride in your work and happy to please your captain. Her day was successful as well, the new assessment methods and exercises made the process more efficient, yet thorough.

The first day is over, so you and your captain return to your quarters, both pleased with today’s results. Handing your weapon to Phasma, you thank her and she wordlessly nods. You head into your room and strip off your armored uniform, putting it carefully into place in the closet.

The hot shower water along your skin causes it to redden, your body releasing any stress from the first day nerves. Showers offer you a quiet and peaceful moment to think, so your brain runs through each thought that passes through. One thought that lingers and has done so all throughout the day is none other than your chrome-clad obsession. The way she carries herself is attractive, with so much confidence and power in just her body language. But her face, oh that face. Yes, her expression was nothing soft, but her unique features bring out a softness within your heart.

Thinking harder, you realize how kind and supportive she was today. When you were unsure of your place in the training area, she guided you next to her wordlessly, not making you feel ashamed of your unfamiliarity with being in a Captain position. Furthermore, she even offered to alter your rifle to your preferences, something that no other captain would even consider doing for a subordinate. The most memorable action though was when she taught you the front door code. She stood behind you as she allowed you to test the keypad yourself with her directions. After entering the number sequence, you turned around to confirm you input it correctly. What you didn’t expect was Phasma’s helmet peering much lower than the back of your head. She snapped her gaze up immediately, your face growing hot from catching her staring at your backside.

Still in the shower, you run your hands over your breasts, feeling the way your nipples harden from the touch. You shake your head trying to rid your mind of yearning for your captain, but the slight throb between your legs makes it near impossible. Rinsing your soapy hair off and drying yourself with a towel once the water shuts off, you walk naked to your bed.

Laying on your back with your head against the pillows, your hands wander again. One hand grasps lightly at your chest, a thumb rubbing softly against your stiff bud. The other hand grazes down over your stomach, trailing over your hips and inner thighs, teasing yourself. Your breathing grows heavy as you work yourself up, finally spreading your legs and dipping a finger between your folds. You instantly gasp, holding back a moan of pleasure as you rub circles around your swollen clit, throbbing in need. Wetness grows with your arousal, dripping, and your fingers spread it up and down your sensitive cunt. You pinch your nipple, tugging slightly, causing a pang of pleasure to overwhelm your senses. You close your eyes and focus on the way your fingers feel on your skin. Once you keep a steady pace of rubbing, only one thing is on your mind.

Her. The way she shows her subtle praise through kindness, the way she stands like she owns everyone and everything around her, the British accent in her deep seductive voice, and of course, the heavenly image of her face. Nothing is more alluring than her at this moment, so you quietly moan out for her.

What you don’t know, is that your captain had worked in her room on your rifle herself, ready to surprise you with your new weapon specifications. She strides to your door, knocking lightly in contrast to her morning knocks. Without her gloves on since she removed them to work on your blaster, her hands do not have the distinct clang of metallic collision. Thinking you may not have heard her knock, she decides that she will just enter your room and place the weapon on your bedside table since you may be in the restroom. Opening the door, she stands speechless at what she sees.

There you are, bare on the bed with your chest heaving, groping one breast, and pleasuring yourself. She can’t look away, the way your face is scrunched in ecstasy and your irresistible body is covered in a sheen of light sweat. Your fingers work passionately chasing your high, your breaths matching the circles your hand makes. And the sounds. My god, the sounds. Your moans sound addictive, the way your gasps are cut off from another whimper and are almost drowned out by how loud your sopping pussy is. She is about to turn around and shut the door, embarrassed to catch you in such a vulnerable state, but that's when she hears it.

“Captain- oh god please.”

There was no way she heard you correctly, right? Just as she is about to decide that she had heard incorrectly, there it is again.

“Feels so good Captain oh fuck-”

The woman of your words is in disbelief. Nobody on this ship and in the entire First Order for that matter knew of her sexuality. The hard exterior she portrays leaves no room for personal conversations and her position absolutely does not allow romantic relationships. However, at this moment, she sees a deliciously attractive woman whom she has secretly admired from afar, moaning out for her in sexual frustration. Almost as if your sounds and body intoxicate her, Phasma grows hot, beginning to sweat in her armor. Not knowing what to do, she clears her throat to hopefully alert you of her presence.

Hearing a familiar noise close to the door, you open your eyes and inhale a gasp of terror. There stands your captain, the woman who you have been moaning out for and imagining, staring at your naked body. You curl yourself up in a ball, sitting up and refusing to make eye contact with the woman across the bed. Even when you hear her voice, you can’t bring yourself to meet her helmet-covered eyes.

“I- I’m sorry I was going to drop off your weapon since I had customized it for you. I was going to leave immediately… but I heard something that I thought you might want to explain.”

Your heart somehow pounds faster than it already was, fear enveloping your body as you take a second to gather your thoughts and form a response that wouldn’t get you thrown into the trash compactor.

“Captain, I am so sorry. I cannot deny that you are a phenomenal woman, especially with your strength and conviction. And seeing your face- well, I was consumed by your attractiveness. I apologize greatly, I understand if you wish to fire me. I will remove my things and return to my old room, I am so sorry that our arrangement was ruined by my foolishness.”

Tears threaten to shed from your eyes, being in such a vulnerable state and the embarrassment of being caught by your superior making you ashamed beyond anything you've felt before.

“Y/N, look at me.”

The use of your first name stuns you into looking at your captain, her hands in the process of removing her heavy helmet.

You meet those blue eyes that hold something unexpected. Something so opposite of the Captain Phasma that you’ve known since joining the First Order. You see softness. You see emotion. You see even a hint of lust.

“Y/N, I am not going to fire you. You are an exceptional aide and I specifically chose you out of over 20 candidates. I must admit that yes this is completely unprofessional, but I may have chosen you for reasons other than just business. I have watched you grow over the years, your talent and leadership reminding me of my own. I saw from a distance how you succeed somehow by being my opposite. While I am cold, you are supportive. When I yell insults, you reassure and inspire. These are qualities that I lack, making you a good partner. Seeing you as a Lieutenant demanding obedience and respect made me… feel things I have not felt before.”

She hardens her face as if trying to mask any sign of emotion. For a second, you become worried that she will change her mind and throw you out. But she lets her guard down again, her eyes once again gaining the concern that shone before. She continues,

“I pushed it down for this long, but I cannot deny it any longer. Y/N I am attracted to you. I believe you even caught me staring at your figure before we walked through the door. It is hard for me to show emotion, but I want to try now. It will take time, but I believe we could pursue at least some sort of friendship and more. I will do everything in my power to hide this from the Supreme Leader.”

You smile hard, not believing that the stone-cold soldier you see barking orders loudly and effortlessly bringing enemies to their knees is pouring her heart out. She wants you. Not only does she want you now, but she has wanted you for a long time.

Still in a state of undress and somewhat shy about being fully nude, you turn to her but keep your arms and legs covering the most intimate parts of yourself.

“Captain, I would love nothing more than to have a relationship with you. I’m sorry that you had to find out this way that I return your feelings.”

You lower your head in shame, but a cold finger lifts your chin.

“If anything, I am delighted that I found out this way.”

Her smirk causes you to laugh, and you see it for the first time.

The toothiest grin on her adorable face. Something so unimaginable for Captain Phasma. The headstrong and cruel captain smiles like a complete dork.

Suddenly, she surges forward as she leans over you, tossing her helmet and your blaster to the floor with a loud thump.

Her lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, your lips meeting with warmth and roughness. You both moan into each other’s mouths, her deep hum vibrates your chest as you let out a whimper. She pulls away and you chase her lips, not wanting the kiss to end.

“Hold on, how am I supposed to please you dressed in all this armor?”

She begins removing her armored plates, starting with her feet until she is standing in only a black bodysuit with bare armor attachments. She neatly piles them on the floor and starts unzipping her suit. It gently falls down her body, revealing her broad, full shoulders and her breasts contained in a black sports bra. Phasma’s arms are muscular and faint scars paint her forearms. Her abdomen is toned but not completely chiseled like you imagined, leaving you swooning that her softness is not only hidden in her emotions. Her square hips support the waistband of black boxers, her insanely built thighs looking stronger than any you’ve seen before. Although they are still slim, her legs hold power and are deliciously pale and smooth.

She returns to the side of the bed, drinking in your body while you do the same to her.

“You will address me as either Captain or Mistress, whichever you prefer at the moment. Understood?”

Your thighs clench together hearing her demand, urgently responding with a quick,

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good girl, now let’s help you finish what I gladly interrupted.”

She hovers over you while still standing, leaning down to hungrily take your lips against her own. You groan at how soft her lips feel and how skilled she kisses you, taking your bottom lip between her teeth and tugging to elicit a groan. The bed sinks slightly as she now kneels above you while pushing you to lie down against the pillows.

The kiss is paused as she leans back and just admires your body, the way your breasts are rested, each one slightly fallen to the side from how your back is almost parallel to the bed. Your stomach with a soft appearance in contrast to her own. The way your hips curve and complement your thick thighs, while her toned muscles flex and push against her skin. She can’t help but glimpse at the patch of hair between your legs and just below it, where she sees the wetness still messily covering your lips and inner thighs.

She brings her eyes back up to you, seeing the desperation and want in your own. Strands of your hair have been wisped away in multiple directions from your earlier pleasure-chasing and the hint of blush hasn’t left your cheeks. Your lips are parted as small pants exhale between them, your arousal apparent in the way your breathing is stuttered.

Your Captain practically drools, wanting so badly to take you. Her heart yearns to watch you come undone, but her mind wants to destroy the absolute goddess below. She settles for a compromise, remaining harsh in demeanor but using soft touches and words to capture your heart.

“So beautiful Y/N, you look so fucking delicious.”

Your heart hammers at her praise, your breathing quickening even more.

“Thank you, Mistress, you look gorgeous yourself. I need you, please I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Not wasting any time, Phasma places her hands on either side of your head, holding herself up while she again cuts your breaths off with her mouth. Your hands wander to her strong shoulders, down the curve of her spine, and then back up again. She pulls away suddenly, standing up and pulling her boxers down her long legs, revealing a sight that has you utterly ravenous. Her trimmed blonde hair leads down to a clearly wet set of lips, the details of her folds hidden between them. Once finished stepping out of her boxers, she brings her fingers under the band of her sports bra, lifting and releasing a perky set of slightly smaller breasts. They look picture-perfect in your eyes and the way her nipples stand hard against the cold air heats your core.

She tosses her bra to the ground and in seconds, is on top of you again. This time, biting and sucking at your neck to leave marks. You feel her nipples pressed against your chest and arch your back into her, needing more. Her teeth and lips create angry marks along the expanse of your neck, red and stinging soothed by her tongue that licks stripes and sends shivers down your spine. Wandering lips travel to your earlobe, and her teeth tug gently as she whispers in your ear.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. How badly I wanted to take you back to my room and absolutely fuck you speechless.”

An obscene noise leaves your mouth, somewhere between a moan and a cry. All she does is laugh and sit up, staring down at you so predatory that you feel instant submission to your Mistress.

“I know you are far from innocent, with how well you touch yourself there have to be some fun toys to help every once in a while, aren’t there? I wonder if you even have a harness and dildo for me to use…”

Your eyes widen at how accurate her guess is, and you see her knowing smirk grow larger at your reaction. You nod quickly, confirming her words.

Suddenly, a hand shoots down, and strong fingers wrap around your throat. Nothing too tight, but a sign of power and control that makes your thighs clench and your breath halt.

“Now y/n, you have some learning to do, don’t you? Funny thing is, you’re supposed to be a decorated soldier, but I have you reduced to a pathetic mess. You will always respond to my questions with a verbal answer. Do you understand?”

Her hand loosens, giving you an opportunity to speak without the pressure of her palm pressed against your vocal cords.

“Yes, Mistress. I have a box of toys in the bottom drawer of my dresser and inside there is a harness and dildos, and a few more things.”

A mischievous smile overtakes your Captain’s face, her hand pulls back, and she stands while she responds to your obedient confession.

“See what happens when you follow my orders? Now, I am going to look through your things and pick out a dildo that I believe a good girl like you deserves to be pounded with.”

You redden and avert your eyes, her nude body bending over and hesitating while searching for the perfect strap. Of course, your eyes drift back to her ass, strong and firm yet surprisingly round compared to her square frame.

Unbeknownst to you, your Mistress sees your largest dildo and immediately knows it’s the one she is going to use. Although this is her first time being intimate with you, the enticing opportunity to fuck you into a state of complete submission and exhaustion is too good to pass up. She grabs hold of a plain black harness, fitting the giant red dildo onto the front, and then turns to face you with her selection in clear view.

Your jaw drops in shock seeing the massive dildo your Captain chose. Although it was in your box of toys, that dildo is unused since you typically use one of your average size toys to fuck yourself with.

“I- Captain… I haven’t used that one before. I don’t even know if I can take that size-”

“Quiet.” She cuts you off with a sharp, dominating tone. “You can and will take it.”

You visibly gulp and pale, knowing that the girthy length will soon be sheathed inside of you.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“That’s my good slut.”

She fastens the strap onto her waist and tightens it. The red dildo stands at attention, contrasting her creamy skin and piercing blue eyes. With a predatory glint, she stalks toward the bed and studies you.

Your chest heaves in fear and excitement, arousal and nervousness flowing through your veins. The woman towering above you is a sight you’ll never forget. Especially when she moves onto the bed, staring you down as if locked onto her next target. To be at the mercy of one of the most dangerous, powerful, and respected women in the galaxy is a feeling unlike any other. Pure lust and hunger on her face have you trembling, but you trust her with your body and heart. As if to prove that your worries are unnecessary, she speaks in a softer tone than her previous one.

“If for any reason at all you want me to stop, please use the word ‘Red’ and I will immediately pause whatever I am doing. I truly care about you Y/N, and I want to assure you that even when I am rough or demanding, it’s because I want to give you everything I have.”

Even with her stoic face and domineering position on her knees above you, the tenderness in her voice conveys what she feels inside. You understand now. The goddess of a woman who is about to fuck you senselessly is offering you her version of loving consideration. You never thought you’d see any insecurity within this ethereal being that you call your Mistress, but the intimacy and emotion at this moment reveal the truth. The mighty Captain Phasma has a hard time showing affection, so using only what she knows, strength and power, she shows you how much she adores you. It warms your heart, and you grin up at her.

“Thank you, Mistress, I care about you too. I know you aren’t expecting me to say something like this, but I adore you, and the fact that you want me to feel safe means everything to me.”

Your Captain is taken aback by your sweetness, faltering a bit and blinking away the emotions that rise to the surface.

“Of course Y/N, I don’t know what to say. It’s hard for me to show emotion often but you deserve to hear this. I… I want to make you feel good. I want to give you pleasure. Looking down at your phenomenal body, makes me want to fuck you over and over again until you can’t speak.”

Your chest tightens in a mix between love and lust. Rather than replying teasingly and risking your Captain’s trust, you soothingly speak.

“Mistress, I promise that even if you have a hard time showing emotions, I can feel them. Thank you so much.”

Back is the mischievous glint in your Captain’s eyes, her confidence now growing as her eagerness cannot be contained any longer.

‘Let’s get you ready to feel me then. Although, it seems you already did some warming up before I walked in here.”

She chuckles and sets her knees on either side of your hips, pushing your thighs up so that they are spread apart for her. The red dildo plops down onto your bare pussy, making a lewd slapping sound as it comes into contact with your dripping wetness. Your lips part and a whimper escapes, allowing your Mistress to surge forward and slot her tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Her mouth explores your own, moans escaping both of you in passionate desperation. The strap slides between your folds, causing a mewl to be captured by your Captain’s mouth. She pulls away while continuing to move the length up and down, teasing your slit with her silicone cock. Her breathlessness shows by the way her breasts rise and fall with each intake of air.

“Does my needy whore like her Mistress’s cock teasing her pretty cunt? It sounds so fucking dirty, let me see how wet you are for me.”

You redden at her shameless comments, looking down at the red girth between your lower lips. Your Captain sits up and leans back, head tilted down and focused on the dildo now covered in slick.

“Fuck- you have such a gorgeous pussy. I can’t wait to pound it until it’s swollen and leaking cum. Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you, my sweet little slut.”

Her vulgar praise and promise of what’s to come have you squirming and slightly moving your hips.

“Are you trying to please yourself with my cock? And who gave you permission to do that? It sure wasn’t me, you greedy whore.”

She pins your hips down with a firm hand to your right hipbone. Her short nails dig into your skin and you feel marks form that will surely remain there for a few days. You hiss through your teeth at the rough grip she has, but the pain only heightens your pleasure.

“I’m sorry, please fuck me. Please- I need you. At least touch my clit, Mistress, I’m begging you.”

“Begging already? I’ve barely even touched you. You’re lucky I am feeling generous, I want to see how sensitive you are when I play with your clit.”

She angles her hips to thrust the strap directly against your swollen bud.

“Oh god, fuck- Yes yes just like that-“

Cut off by a loud groan, you throw your head back and shut your eyes tight, the pressure on your clit causing pangs of pleasure to overtake your senses.

Captain Phasma, the hardened soldier of fear, smiles at your reaction with adoration and pride. The rhythm of her hips and her skilled movements make you feel heavenly. Her happiness grows immediately and she feels something unknown within her heart. Brought back to the moment by another sexy whimper of yours, she decides to tease you.

“Yeah? Do you like how my cock feels rubbing on your clit? I bet you would love it even more with this big strap shoved deep inside that delicious cunt while I use my thumb to push you over the edge.”

Arching your back, you grip the sheets and cry out, her words making your walls contract around emptiness.

“Please please Mistress, I’ll do anything- just fuck me. God, you make me throb so hard, Mistress please- please pound me into this bed as hard as you want.”

“Such a good girl for asking so nicely, I think you deserve it. Eyes on me, that’s it.”

Eager eyes meet hers and she lifts your hips by scooting your butt up against her legs, creating an angle sure to bring you the most pleasure.

“Remember the safe word, I am not going easy on you. This greedy hole needs me to fill it and I wouldn’t dare deprive you. Eyes on me while I push it in, I want to see your face when I stretch you out.”

The red tip rests against your entrance and suddenly, her hips buck forward hard, sinking the strap inside of your aching pussy until she is as deep as possible. Your face scrunches but you obey her, keeping your gaze on her own. Your hands grip the sheets roughly and your breasts bounce with the harsh intrusion.

“Fuck! Oh god- wait- it’s huge- please let me adjust oh my god-”

Ignoring your pleading, she pulls out until only about an inch is still inside of you, then shoves the cock back in with an intense grunt. She fucks you without hesitation, causing slight pain that instantly turns into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt. Beads of sweat roll down her forehead while you gasp for breath and release obscene sounds. Even more obscene are the wet slapping noises of the strap fucking into you, your juices messily running down your inner thighs, and now covering your Mistress’s mound.

“Look how well you take this strap, such a good girl. You sound filthy, such a cockslut for me. I can feel how tight you clench around my cock, what a dirty girl. You fucking love this, don’t you? Being dominated by such a powerful woman. I can already see how your brain goes completely dumb for me, you’re just a fucktoy that I can do with what I please.”

The only response you can muster up is a low whine followed by a hitch of your breath. Your Captain looks at your body, the way your supple chest heaves and bounces, matching the pattern of her hips. Your soft belly wobbles slightly along with your hips. She can’t get over the way you look flawless in her eyes when she is destroying you, utterly ruining your gorgeous pussy. The strap hits the deepest parts of you, rubbing against the sweet spot that has you seeing stars. She can tell that you are getting closer to the edge by how the pitch of your moans rises and how her strap needs more force to bottom out.

“Do you want to cum for me? Does my perfect girl want to cum all over her Mistress’s cock? Go ahead and make a mess, I’m going to keep fucking you hard through it. Cum baby, be a good girl. Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

Just as she described earlier, your Mistress takes her thumb and uses the pad of her finger to swiftly rub back and forth on your clit. Small circles quicken and push you over the edge, driving you to orgasm.

“Mmm- ah, gonna- I’m gonna- fuck!”

Waves of pleasure overtake your entire body. Your eyes shut hard, head thrown against the pillows, back rising off the bed, hands tightly gripping the sheets, and your hips grind to take the full length of the strapon. She pounds you into the bed will full force, fucking you with absolute vigor and making you scream out as tears run down your cheeks. You feel a gush of wetness that releases onto your Mistress’s lap as you continue to ride out your orgasm.

“Good girl, so beautiful, you’re doing so well.”

Too sensitive to continue comfortably, you remember the safe word and sputter it out.

“Red. Too much-”

Your lover stills inside of you, face laced with concern but also satisfaction at making you cum so hard.

“Okay pretty girl, I am so proud of you. I’m going to pull out slowly and I will take care of you.”

You nod, not having the energy left to respond verbally. She looks at you lovingly and carefully slides the massive dildo out, making you groan as your walls adjust to the lack of pressure. To your surprise, she coos quietly at you, making you blush. You never thought that Captain Phasma would be so sweet after rough sex and neither did the Captain herself. In other escapades, she ushers her partner out quickly, not giving even a second thought if she should offer any sort of comfort or care. But with you, it is completely different. She regards you with respect and love, wanting to be nurturing and supportive, the opposite of her usual demeanor. Instinctually, she feels the need to hold you, to make sure that you are comfortable, safe, and happy in her arms. She takes off the strap, tossing it on the floor to worry about later. Right now, her priority is you. You, sprawled out on the bed with cum slowly trickling out of your abused hole. Even in such an erotic position, she finds your spent body to be the most alluringly charming sight. You look absolutely adorable in her eyes, your exhausted face half-lidded and peering back at her own is irresistibly cute. She becomes shy looking at your nude appearance in all its glory, unfamiliar with the desire to be affectionate and soft. You pick up on her discomfort, deciding to take the situation into your own hands.

Before speaking, you take a few seconds to catch your breath, spent from the vigorous lovemaking. With your best effort, you force together some words and finally talk.

“Thank you- I don’t even know how to explain how good that felt.”

You pause, out of breath, but muster up the strength to continue.

“You are seriously a sex goddess or something… Have you ever gone through aftercare before? I know I was the one to get fucked insanely hard, but I can guide you through the basics if you’d like.”

Your voice is kind and non-judgemental, almost as if speaking to someone fragile and timid. Normally, Captain Phasma would be enraged if spoken to in such a manner, but the vulnerability she feels and the thought put into your words has her heart melting.

“I’ll be honest, I have never done aftercare before. I usually kick out any sexual partners right after we finish. I’d really like to tend to you right now, please help me do it Y/N, you deserve to be taken care of.”

Her confession is so heartfelt and open that you feel special seeing this side of her. You’ll cherish her sweetness for as long as you live, it being so rare and thoughtful.

“Of course, is it alright if I show you how to be soft? Aftercare usually involves intimacy and I think you might enjoy it.”

She hesitates, stuck in thought. Finally, she answers with certainty.

“Yes, please teach me. I want to learn how to take care of my partner. I want to learn it all for you.”

Your heart flutters at her admission and you brighten up with a large smile.

“You may not believe it, but you, Captain Phasma, the feared First Order leader, have a precious soul.”

She shakes her head in denial but also hides her pink cheeks and tiny smirk with the movement of her head. Deciding to ignore her denial rather than continue making her feel vulnerable, you go ahead and begin winding down.

“For aftercare, I typically get a washcloth with warm water and clean up both my partner and me. Would you like to try cleaning us up?”

“Yes, let me get a washcloth from your bathroom and soak it.”

Your Captain disappears into the restroom. You hear the sink turn on and run for a few moments. Looking down at your own body, you see the effects of the rough sex. Your body shines with sweat, breathing heavily to catch your breath. The warmth at your center is comforting, but the cum messily coating your thighs and slit starts to feel uncomfortable as it leaks down on your backside. If you weren’t so attentive, you might have missed the way your legs quiver and how the marks on your right hip sting. Growing needy for your lover’s attention, soft whines leave your mouth.

Hearing the cries of her lover from the bedroom, Captain Phasma turns the water off and rushes to the bed.

“Hey, I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’m going to clean you up now, okay? Tell me if I am being too rough or if anything hurts. This is my first time doing this so I would love guidance.”

Calmed by her presence and voice, you relax and quiet down. You watch the beautiful soldier rub the cloth across your inner thighs, putting light pressure to clean up any wetness left over. Her hand moves the small towel between your legs, and you jolt at the feeling. She pauses, looking at you and waiting for your permission to continue.

“Just, be very light when you clean near my clit. I’m very sensitive right now but you are doing amazing, thank you.”

Captain Phasma sees the adoring smile you give her and she beams back. Proceeding with cleaning your center, she listens to your instructions and barely touches your clit, only wiping the juices away with concentration. After she cleans the rest of you, including your sore hole and ass, she uses the unused portion of the fabric to swipe between her own thighs, cleaning the arousal away. Although she didn’t get to orgasm, making you cum was more than enough to satisfy her. Noticing the marks on your hip, she places a kiss on each one, hoping that they won’t be sore for long, but secretly loving how they look. She discards the cloth next to the strap on the floor and stands next to the bed, waiting for your next orders like the trained soldier she is.

“Thank you so much, beautiful. I hope using terms of endearment is alright. You can practice with me, I’ll let you know which ones I like. Come here, let me show you what I do next.”

“Okay… pretty girl. Was that alright? I quite like that, actually. I will definitely be calling you names like that more often.”

Giggles startle her into moving towards the bed, your amusement making her joyous. Your positive reaction to her sentiment spurs her confidence and she vows to continue pushing herself to be more loving with you. She climbs onto the bed and you pull her down beside you. Awkwardly laying there, you laugh and tease her in a kindhearted way.

“No need to be so stiff, silly. After all, you did just fuck me like nobody ever has before. It’s time for my favorite part, cuddles!”

You roll to face her, your breasts sagging to the side and her eyes are glued to them. She shakes her head to bring her attention back to your face, and she copies your movements. Now face to face, you both smile and observe your bodies. Locking eyes after getting to explore each other, you bring your hand to her cheek and lean in, kissing her with nothing but fondness and love. She mirrors your kiss, feeling protective and delighted that you are giving her a chance. Deep down, she is scared. Few times in her life has she ever been scared, and the thought of pursuing a relationship with you terrifies her. But at this moment, with your pillowy lips against her own, she feels complete and willing to do anything to have you as hers. You pull away at the same time, and you ask her an important question.

“Have you ever cuddled with someone before?”

She nods from side to side, signifying how inexperienced she is in physical affection.

“That’s okay! There are many positions. I will explain them quickly and you can choose whichever you feel will be most comfortable. One position is spooning. That is where one person lies on their side and the other person lies facing the same way, pressing their front against the other’s back. Another is face-to-face like how we are now. We can either have one of us positioned higher so that the other rest their face against the other’s chest, or you can rest in the crook of the other person’s neck, or whatever else works. There is also cuddling where someone lays on top of their partner, resting their head on top of the bottom person’s chest. Do any of those sound appealing to you? My favorite is probably either spooning or face-to-face.”

Your lover is a bit overwhelmed with the options, but sharing which ones you enjoy helps narrow down her choices. She feels possessive in a tender way, and spooning allows her to hold you protectively, so she decides on that position.

“May I spoon you… my beloved? I want to hold you badly, to wrap my arms around you.”

“Yes please, let me roll over. Thank you again for the sweet names.”

You flush slightly and roll over to face away from the beautiful woman now behind you. You feel her weight shift on the mattress and you grow flustered when you feel stiff nipples press into your back, eventually followed by the squish of her full breasts. Her abdomen is warm against you, and her crotch radiates heat against your ass, bringing a steady, comforting throb back to your clit. Her legs slot between your own and one of her sturdy arms reaches under the pillow to support your head on her bicep. The other wraps around your torso, and her calloused hand lays on your smooth belly. She loves that your body is different than hers, she treasures the feminine curves that contrast her own brawny, masculine build.

“Is this alright? I love this, you’re so warm and your skin is so soft. You’re extremely beautiful, I hope you know that. I promise to you, as your partner now, that I will remind you each and every day how stunning you are. Your personality, charm, generosity, and beauty are unmatched. Thank you for teaching me how to be intimate and romantic physically as well as emotionally. It will take me some time, but I will do my best for you. Thank you for letting me fuck you, my pretty girl. I can’t wait to explore your body even more and watch you come undone endlessly.”

You tear up and turn your head back to look at her over your shoulder. She holds the most endearing look on her face and you kiss her. She tightens her hold on you and a hand sneaks its way up to grope at your breasts. A loud chuckle breaks the kiss as you laugh at her antics, swatting her hand away playfully and snuggling back into her.

“Y/N?” She whispers so quietly that you barely hear.

“Yes, my angel?”

“I think… I don’t know what I feel. All I know is that I don’t want to let you go. Can you promise that you’ll stick with me? Even when I may be difficult and stubborn, I want this to work.”

Taking her hand in your own, you give it a comforting squeeze and hold it against the swell of your chest.

“I promise you, my beautiful fighter, that I will never let you go. I am right here and I want a relationship with you, no matter how complicated things get. I do think we should keep this a secret to maintain our images and professionalism in the First Order, but when it is just you and me, we will be happy as can be.”

“Thank you Y/N, I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I am terrifying and cold to everyone else, but you get to see me at my best. I can’t wait to conquer the world with you, my incredible little soldier.”

“You have a pure heart at your core, my dear Phas. I see you for who you are and I want to give you the intimacy that you deserve. We are gonna be an unstoppable duo, aren’t we?”

The nickname you gave her, “Phas,” has her heart beating rapidly and her face becoming warm. She feels at peace and becomes drowsy with sleepiness.

“Yes, we are the fearless First Order duo that secretly fucks each other and cuddles at night.”

“You’re silly, yes that’s true but it is so much more than that. It is devotion, admiration, and love-”

A long yawn cuts you off as your eyes grow heavy, sleep now evident in your voice.

“Let’s get some sleep now my love, I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.”

Your blonde protector speaks aloud the override command for the lights, the entire apartment controlled by her voice if needed. The perks of being a Captain come in handy, especially when she is holding onto the woman of her dreams.

“Goodnight Y/N, sweet dreams.”

“Sleep well Phas, goodnight.”

-----

Captain Phasma struts across the cold, grey floors. Her presence demands respect and attention, the Stormtroopers stand in perfect rows awaiting her orders. Across the room, you stare at her in awe, not daring to take your eyes away from her shiny form. That right there is your woman. The woman you hold at night and make smile like a total dork with your pet names and stupid jokes. Her helmet turns, directly facing you. Your breath hitches and you nod at her, a sign of courtesy and acknowledgment. You both know that under the chrome dome that covers her head, her lips are pulled into a smirk. Returning her attention to the troops, she barks instructions in a harsh tone.

“I want any rebel scum captured and brought back to me. I will be overseeing this battalion and I want absolutely no mistakes or I will send you to reconditioning. You will answer any and all orders from me and Assistant Captain L/N. Prepare your weapons and we will board the transport ship shortly.”

You beam with pride, following her clanking steps toward the ship. She enters the cockpit and you find your place in the seat next to hers. She turns to you, nodding in confirmation to begin flight prep.

“Alright Assistant Captain L/N, be a good girl and ensure the hyperdrive is intact, will you?”

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