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Sentimental

Summary:

It's been an exhausting day of training and you can hardly move, but you're far too stubborn to admit that to your girlfriend Phasma.

Notes:

RIP chrome dome. Love you.

Work Text:

Muscles aching, you collapsed with a soft thud on the couch and dropped your blades, a sigh of relief wheezing out of your mouth. Twisting your helmet to the side until it clicked, you felt the cool air finally hit your face as you removed it from your head. Dragging a gloved arm towards your face, you bit down on the leather from the tip of your middlemost finger, pulling your hand out of the glove. Doing the same with the other, you forced your body to roll to the side, using your feet to kick off your boots. Exhausted, you gave up on the second foot, letting your eyes drift shut. 

An old wound on your bicep screamed in pain, the muscles straining from a lack of rest. Another, sharper, jolted up your knee when you walked, a constant reminder to be quicker and more accurate. A yellowing bruise covered your collarbone and extended to your sternum, the ghost of a mallet colliding into your chest. There was the phantom slice of a longsword at your face, and the scars covering your ear and hands to prove it. They were constant reminders of your failures as a Knight of Ren - of Minolauth's weaknesses.

Kriff, you were so tired...

Hearing the sound of entrance to your quarters opening, you opened an eye as Phasma strode into the room, chrome helmet turning towards you. Immediately, she ripped the helmet off and crouched down to your level, gaze travelling up your leather-clad form, her brows furrowed together as her mouth set in a familiar firm line. Bringing a gloved hand to your face, she brushed your locks away from your forehead.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself."

"Yeah," you replied half-heartedly, a small smile on your face.

Shifting, you suppressed a hiss as you moved yourself upright, the pain in your bicep intensifying as you put weight on it.

"Stop stop stop," Phasma chided, the words shooting out of her mouth. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she pushed you softly into the back of the couch. Shaking her head, she frowned. "You're being stupid."

"It's not that bad Phas, otherwise I'd be in the medbay." You reassured her.

"Sure," Phasma replied, standing and removing the gloves from her hands. Padding over to the bedroom, she began to remove her arm guards and several pieces of armour from her underclothes. 

Lifting your head to peek over the back of the couch, you watched as she nodded.

"Are you going to get changed out of all that leather? I know you don't think it's very comfortable."

"I know you like it," You deflected.

Phasma placed her shin guards on inside the chest of drawers. 

"I'd prefer you to be comfortable."

Turning back around to face the door, you sighed as you tried to muster up the strength to walk. Shifting forward, your whole face scrunched up in pain as you put your weight on your injured knee, and you attempted to stand up, only for your legs to buckle. Falling back onto the couch, you closed your eyes as the stabbing sensation down your leg began to subside, a sigh escaping your lips. 

Walking back to the couch, Phasma had changed into a simple black singlet and shorts, torn between smugness and concern as she crossed her arms. Flickering your eyes open, you watched her in the fear that she'd genuinely be upset. A beat passed like that before the blonde's lips curled into a smile, kneeling back down to tug off your remaining boot. 

"You're lucky you're pretty, or I'd leave you for someone less reckless."

Smiling, you watched as she wrapped her fingers around the sole of your boot, pulling it off and throwing it unceremoniously behind her. Gesturing for you to move your arms, you laughed as she struggled to tug your coat off of your stiff body, unable to get the collar past your shoulder. Leaning forward, you gave her some leverage as the leather coat slipped off of you, Phasma frustratedly tossing it away to join the boot. Hands creeping up to your belt and unbuckling it, she pulled it from the loops of your trousers and folded it up, placing it beside her. 

You couldn't contain a smile at her frustration, understanding that you were the only person in the galaxy who Captain Phasma of the First Order would willingly help undress.

"Yeah, I am pretty lucky." You said quietly, the laugh dying in your throat. 

Looking at you with suspicion, Phasma sighed.

"Do you want the pants?"

"Kriff, no."

She scoffed at your brashness. Lifting your hips off of the couch, you winced as Phasma got some leverage around your belt loops and tugged, bringing your trousers down to your ankles. Pulling off your socks, she tossed them aside in disgust. Eyes drifting to the sown wound above your knee, she halted her movements for a moment.

"You need to be more careful out there (y/n)." She said, tugging the trousers from your ankles and dropping them on the floor. "You need to give yourself a break. I can speak to Commander Ren."

You peered down at her.

"If I was one of your stormtroopers you wouldn't be saying any of that to me."

"Lucky you're not one of my stormtroopers then."

"You're such a hypocrite." 

"You do that to me."

Standing up, Phasma leaned over and helped prop your back against the arm of the couch, kneeling between your legs and grasping the clasp of your shirt. Raising a brow, she waited as you nodded at her. Undoing the clasp, you watched her face fall at the sight of the yellow-green bruise plastered across your chest, completely visible despite the coverage of your bra. Giving you a glare, she stretched your bicep back, causing you to groan in pain as she guided one arm out of the overshirt, and then the other. Once it was off of your body, she looked towards the pile of leather clothes and threw the shirt over.

"And I thought the leg wound was bad." She mumbled, still looking at the pile of clothes.

"Maybe you could kiss it better?" You asked.

Head turning to face you, she rolled her eyes.

"I don't know, (y/n), kisses aren't a very effective healing method."

Letting out a breath of obviously fake laughter, you took a hold of her hand and tugged, craning your head to press your lips against hers. Smiling into the kiss, Phasma brought her free hand to the side of your face, cradling your scarred ear and humming in contentment. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you ran your fingers down her side hastily, dotting a faster series of kisses down her neck. Laughter began to bubble out of her throat uncontrollably.

"Wait, stop, you know I'm ticklish you-"

Pressing a chaste kiss against her lips again, you hushed her. 

"Stop complaining. I'm trying to be romantic."

Laughter bubbling again, Phasma playfully patted you on the shoulder before wiping her hand down her face and leaning against the back of the couch.

"You're doing a great job." She replied sarcastically, though there was no venom behind it.

Pulling her down to lie beside you, you shuffled over to leave some space between your side and the back of the couch. Lying down beside you, Phasma tucked her head between your chin and shoulder, arms wrapping around your torso and legs dangling over the other arm rest. It never quite made sense - given her height - that she was always resting on your shoulder. Even in bed, her feet were alarmingly close to hanging from the edge of the mattress. But she never seemed to care, so long as you were holding her.

Placing a kiss to your shoulder, Phasma beamed up at you and gave your hip a reassuring squeeze. 

"I know you're really not that sentimental," you began, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "but I'm really glad I get to come back to my quarters and see you every day. I hate retiring for the day when either of us have to go off-base. It's lonely without you."

"Lonely?" Phasma asked, eyes scanning your face.

"Yeah. I'm lonely without you."

Warmth lighting up her features, Phasma smiled as she took your hand in hers and planted a kiss on your knuckles, holding both of your fists against her chest. Closing her eyes, her breaths began to even out as you drew circles on her elbow with your free hand. A few moments passed like that, the only sound in the room being the deep, blissful breaths you shared and the soft whir of the moving ship.

"You know I love you, right?" You said abruptly. "That I'd give any of this up for you?"

Eyes fluttering open, Phasma pushed herself up from your chest with a slight frown.

"Of course I do," she said reassuringly, "I love you, (y/n)."

Smiling in contentment, you studied her bright blue eyes and relaxed.

"I love you too Phasma."

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