#demi!reader

You didn't want to do it, this stupid rite of passage. No, it wasn't exactly like you'd be forced into a room until you "did the deed," However, you knew to refuse would be to cement your reputation as a lame prude who wouldn't know fun if it crawled up her ass. But still, you really didn't want to.

After all, who would want their first time to just be some random fuck for the sole purpose of "Becoming a man/woman" and an "official part of the crew."? Yes, you wanted more than anything to be accepted, like Peter or the others, but you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved and cared for. Now, this isn't to say that you weren't currently a respected member of the crew, but things were just... different. You knew things would change if the others knew you didn't want to go through with it. You'd be less "one of the guys" and more "the chick with the stick up her butt." You didn't want that.

You stood and took a deep breath, readying your facade before leaving your quarters to make your way down to breakfast.

As always, there were many other Ravagers also making their way from the crew quarters down to the mess hall. And, just how it had started happening the closer it got to that dreaded date, you'd encounter someone looking to congratulate you with a clap on the back, saying things like, "Ayy! How many days is it now? Bet ya can't wait, huh?" or more often, high-fives and fist bumps as your crew mates cheered you on for your upcoming "big day."

You took it all in stride, just like every other day. Big smiles, return the high-five, maybe throw in some finger guns, toss in an affirmative and that you "couldn't wait."

But each time you died just a bit inside. How long could you put on this charade? You knew you wouldn't be able to go through with it. What was going to happen then? What would the rest of the crew say when they found out? Normally it wouldn't be such a big deal for so long, when other guys came of age it was usually forgotten by the others after a few days. However, you were going to come of age the very day of the next scheduled shore leave, which was going to happen in just a few days, and for some reason this just bred excitement among your peers and they wouldn't drop it.

You tried to put these thoughts out of your head as you entered the Mess Hall and got your breakfast.

Today you got to eat in relative peace, the attention being taken up by the story Narblik was telling about his last job on an icy planet and how he hadn't been sure he'd make it back when the blizzard hit. It was when you got up to turn in your tray and leave when a few other's started back up again.

Scrote whooped when he saw you stand, crying out a "Get 'em!" at you and someone else shouted back that you were "Gonna be a man!" until someone shouted back at them "She's a girl!" earning an apology and a correction that you were "Gonna be a woman!" that earned some laughter from the others. You knew the laughter wasn't directed at you, they weren't insulting your looks. Some species on the ship just had a hard time getting genders right because the concept of gender just wasn't a thing on their homeworlds.

You passed Horuz and a young green man named Rahi who high-fived you with an "Ayyy!" as was becoming the custom greeting for anyone wanting to congratulate you on it being almost your big day. You returned the greeting. He had just turned 17 three days before along with another young man he often ran around with, and you heard him talking with some others (There were about 5 or 6 of you all either about to turn the big 17 or who recently had since the last shore leave 3 months ago. It was an abnormally large amount of young people coming of age this time around, which you suspected was further reason why some were making such a bigger deal about this upcoming shore leave.) about being excited for shore leave, as that's when they'd be able to 'become men,' aka, would be able to find a whore to screw. Younger crew often had more of the cleaning jobs aboard the Eclector, and unless assigned with an older crew mate, didn't get to go on many away missions where they could try and woo a willing partner, and even then, Yondu liked quick turnarounds on jobs so there wasn't a whole lot off "goof off" time without being reprimanded. There was no real rule about screwing crew mates either, but most avoided it just in case things got weird after. Easier to just bang someone random on shore leave and then get back to work. No muss no fuss.

Horuz teasingly asked if you had any studs picked out yet and you just laughed and said "Ha, one of these lot? You're joking!" as you put your tray away.

You heard Yondu playfully scold the two from a couple tables over, telling them, "Oh, leave the poor girl alone, yer embarrassin' her!" as he laughed. Horuz just shouted back, "Aw now, I didn't even get to tell her about Oblo here's first time!" This was met with Oblo, who was sitting nearby, choking out a "Hey!" and punching Horuz in the arm.

Kraglin laughed now, "I think she's already heard that one! Let's not ruin anyone's meal now."

You shivered. You had heard the story before. It involved a broken member and many stitches. You weren't looking forward to hearing it again. "I'm out!" you say, looking for a way out of this conversation. "Got work to do." With that you turned and started to leave the mess hall.

"That's what I like to hear!" Yondu laughed from behind you. "Some of you lazy gits should start acting like her, don't wanna work unless yer told to." He knew you were just escaping having to hear the story again, but he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to razz up some of his crew.

You finally make your way out of the mess hall and allow your grin to fall. You run a hand over your face, making your way toward the laundry where you had been assigned to repair one of the machines. You were grateful it was both early in the week as well as early in the day as you entered the room. Most of the crew waited until they were completely out of clean clothes to do their washings, which typically resulted in most of the crew crowding the laundry at the end of the week, so you were sure to have at least an hour or three alone to yourself.

You made your way to the back left-hand corner of the room towards the broken machine. It should be an easy fix, the complaint was that it wasn't draining properly, so you figured it was just a clogged drain hose.

Upon opening up the machine you found you were right. it was just a clog. You retrieved a plumbing snake from a nearby supplies trunk and got to work fishing it out. Unfortunately this menial task gave you enough time to dwell on your problems rather than engaging your brain enough to force them into the back of your mind.

You kept thinking the word "broken" over and over. You couldn't get it out of your head how you couldn't bring yourself to just be excited over something everyone else seemed to love.

Your chest tightened. "Broken.. Loser..." Why couldn't you get over it? Why didn't you have these feelings like all the others?

You latched onto the clog and worked to pull it out. "

Broken..." Why was this so hard? "Broken... Stupid... Wrong..." What was wrong with you? "Stupid... Broken..." Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?!

With that last thought you pulled the clog out with an audible "Pop!" that almost made you fly backwards. You looked at it in disgust and dropped it into the nearby trashcan before re-attaching the hose and sliding down to the floor. No one was going to show up to the laundry this early, might as well take advantage of this time to wallow in your own misery.

That's what you told yourself at least. In truth you could feel tears burning your eyes and didn't want anyone to see you cry. Better to let it happen alone than risk another crew mate seeing you and thinking you were weak.

What you didn't know was that Yondu was also well aware of his Ravager crew's laundry habits, and took advantage of the empty communal laundry room at the beginning of the week to wash his own laundry undisturbed. He made his way down after breakfast, actually having forgotten he had assigned you to fix one of the machines, and was therefore quite surprised to walk in on you sat in the corner crying.

"What d'we have here?" he asked, more puzzled than anything. He never once seen you cry, which now that he thought about it was rather surprising. He saw grown men cry at least twice a week, most of them Peter, but still. He tried to cover up any concern with humor. "Did Halfnut leave his dirty drawers in the machine again? Smell's bad enough to make anyone cry."

You had been startled when he first walked in and you were currently trying to quickly straighten yourself up. "Nothing. Sorry Captain." you said, not looking him in the eye as you bent down to pick up the plumbing snake. "Nearly done here." you say, unable to hide a sniffle.

Yondu plopped his laundry basket on one of the long steel tables running up the middle of the room and sighed, turning to walk towards the door.

You look up in surprise as you heard the lock engage.

He looked at you, arms crossed, and said, "Ya really think I'm gonna buy that? Yer not leaving here until ya spill it. Now what's wrong? Somebody bein' mean to ya? Yer feminine-ly cycle -or whatever it's called- hurtin' ya again?"

You blushed and gave him a sharp look before placing the plumbing snake back where you found it.

Yondu rolled his eyes as he moved his basket over to a machine and tossed his clothes in. "Fine, be that way. But I meant what I said. Ya ain't leavin' til we sort it out. Might as well talk or it's gonna get mighty borin' in here." He turned on the machine and hoisted himself up to sit on the table, patting the space beside him.

You begrudgingly approach, not meeting his eyes, and lifted yourself up to sit down on the table.

"Now what's wrong?" he said again.

You fix your gaze on your lap and sigh. "You're just gonna make fun of me." You say sadly.

Yondu smirks. "Maybe. Still wanna hear it though." Upon seeing your face fall further he elbowed you and said, "I'm jus' kiddin'! What's the long face?"

Your eyes remain down and you quietly say, "I... don't wanna do it."

Yondu raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I don't wanna do it." you repeat.

"Ya dun wanna do... what?" he asks in confusion. He at first assumed maybe you didn't want to do your assigned morning task of fixing the machine, but it seemed like you had already finished it, so he had no idea what you could possibly mean to even begin to be angry for any disobeyed orders. Also, he doubted he found you crying over something as silly as not wanting to fix a washing machine.

"It," you say, "You know, IT." you make a crude gesture with your fingers, forming a circle in one hand with your thumb and index finger and inserting the index finger of your other hand in and out of it, to hopefully get the point across.

Yondu's eyes widen a bit. "Oh!" he says in surprise, before continuing in confusion, "I don't get it? Ya seemed just as excited as could be a bit ago?"

"I've been faking it. Don't want the others to make fun of me."

"Come now! They won't ma-"

He's cut off by you giving him another sharp look. He looks forward again and nods, sighing, "Yeah, yer right. They will."

The two of you were quiet for a couple moments before Yondu awkwardly broke the silence. "Ya mind if I ask why? Like are ya scared or somethin'?" he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, slight concern painting his features.

He remembered his first time. As a battle-slave he didn't exactly see much action; the Kree weren't exactly fond of the idea of their battle-slaves reproducing or having any fun; and by the time Stakar freed him he was in his twenties. It was shortly after when with some other young Ravagers that the subject came up and he admitted he had never done it, only for his mates to excitedly cheer that they were taking him with them on shore leave so he could "become a man." He had been nervous, though he never expressed it out loud, not wanting to appear weak. He knew they meant well, but screwing a random whore just to fit-in and say he had wasn't something he had exactly been looking forward to, however peer pressure had encouraged him to go through with it. It wasn't too bad, he realized, but even knowing that he himself had come to enjoy the act, he always remembered the knot in his stomach leading up to his first time, and hearing you say that you might be scared of doing it made a similar knot form, only higher in his chest and feeling more like... pity? No, that wasn't quite it. Empathy? Yes, that was probably more accurate. Damn sentiment.

"It's not anything like that... it's just... I don't feel anything like that. I'm not even sure I'd know what that feeling is. It's just not there. I'm not scared, or even disgusted, I just feel... nothing."

"I'm not sure I follow..." Yondu said honestly. He supposed you feeling nothing was better than you being scared, but he still didn't quite understand.

"Ok, like, imagine you're surrounded by a feast, with everything you could ever want to eat, but you're not hungry. That's how I feel. I just don't want any of it," you said. Your voice cracked as you continued, "...and it's just so frustrating. Everyone else gets to be normal, while I just don't feel... anything. I don't want to do it-with anyone. When I think about it I feel nothing- it's like I'm broken." You covered your mouth, still not meeting Yondu's gaze as you tried to hold back frustrated tears.

Hearing you say that you thought you were broken tore at Yondu's heart. He wrapped an arm around you tightly and said in a firm voice, "Ya listen here. Yer not broken. I don't wanna hear that again. Look here."

You reluctantly do as he asks.

"Yer not broken," he said again, his face stern. "Sex doesn't make a person whole, so how could ya ever be broken, girl?"

You inhaled sharply as fresh tears pricked at your eyes. You hadn't realized until then that that was exactly what you needed to hear. You quickly wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest to hide your tears.

Taken aback at he sudden gesture, Yondu patted you on the back comfortingly and returned the hug. Good thing he locked the door. He doubted that any of his crew would be bothered to wash their clothes this early, but still, it would halt the possibility of new rumors that he was "going soft on the Terrans." He honestly wasn't sure he'd sleep tonight if he had to scold you for crying to save face with his crew right now.

You pulled back almost as soon as you went in, straightening up and quickly wiping your eyes.

"Feel better?"

You nodded.

Yondu sighed, "What to do now..." he said thoughtfully. "Ya know, I never actually liked this whole 'rite of passage' thing, to be fully honest. Crew just gets too wound up. Yer not the first to have reservations 'bout it. Handful of lads have come to me over the years, confiding that they were nervous, but scared of being bullied by the rest of the crew if they didn't go through with it. I suspect there might have been more, but were too scared of lookin' weak to tell their captain. I guess I can understand that."

Surprised by this honesty, you asked, "What did they do?"

"Faked it. They'd go on shore leave, pay a whore to put on a good loud show, yelling and banging on the walls 'n stuff, then lap up the congratulations of the rest of the crew for 'becoming a man.'"

You were further surprised that any of the the crew would have been that open with their captain to admit faking it. "Really?" you ask. "They told you about it after?"

"Who d'ya think told 'em to do it?" Yondu said, huffing a laugh out his nose.

That makes you smile, though you aren't quite sure why. After a moment of thought you say, "If you don't like the whole thing, why don't you stop it?"

Yondu sighed. "I don't think I could if I tried. It's widespread over all 100 Ravager factions. Doubt it do well to tell one faction they couldn't participate. Enough of them look forward to it they'd probably riot." Yondu laughed sardonically. "Not that I haven't thought about trying to steer the culture around it in a different direction. I can tell some of my older crew have the same thoughts, even if they won't admit it."

"How do you know if they never said?" you asked.

"The way they keep passing off horror stories as funny tales to the younger crew. Or did ya miss the story about how Vorker-"

"Nope! Heard it!" you cut him off suddenly. "I remember! I don't need to hear it again, please!" You held up your hands almost as if defending yourself from hearing it again, eyes wide. You most definitely did not need to hear a retelling of the time Vorker caught something very nasty off a girl he met on a job and the details that came with it. There were some rumors that it was how he really lost his eye, but you weren't sure of the truth behind those claims.

Yondu chuckled, patting you on the back. His expression changed when he said. "That's prob'ly what ya should do."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fake it, I mean." he clarified. "Ya should wait til ya want to do it, with someone ya want, if that should ever happen. Not just go through with it to fulfill some dumbass rite of passage." He stared off into the space in front of him. "I can't really see another way to go 'bout it." he admitted. "If I called out for a change among the crew now they'd no doubt see the connection, think I was going soft 'cause yer the only girl here, and then it'd blowback on you. I ain't gonna let that happen." He gave you a look that you understood without him having to explain further. He actually cared about you, in a way similar to how he cared for Peter. He didn't want to see you hurt or bullied over something stupid like this.

You nodded in understanding, returning your gaze to the floor.

"Next shore leave is in a few days. I'll take care of it." Yondu said, his words surprising you.

"What?"

"Consider it a gift." he said, lightly punching you in the arm as he said, "Don't say I never gave ya anythin'."

"I don't understand?" you say, lightly laughing in confusion.

Yondu dramatically rolled his eyes and said, "Guess I gotta spell it out fer ya... I'll arrange for a "fake visit" from a nice whore-bot for ya. It actually costs more for them to fake it, if ya can believe it."

You stared at him, speechless. "I- thank you?" you finally say, blushing. You give him another quick hug.

"Ya, don't get used to it." he replied in his usual gruff fashion when you released him, but you knew better. The old softie.

Just then the machine buzzed, alerting that Yondu's clothes were finished washing. He stood from the table to switch them into a nearby dryer. Once done he turned back to face you. "Well, ya probably got other duties ya need to get to. Better get on 'em."

You smiled, giving him a mock-reluctant, "Yeah," before following him to the door.

You weren't expecting what happened next.

Yondu opened the door and exited, you following out behind. The hallway was no longer empty, and you heard the same young man from earlier, Rahi, call out from a group of two other Ravagers, "Ow Ow! Looks like she finally lost it to the Captain!"

No doubt he thought he was being funny, but he really, really, shouldn't have done that.

Yondu's whistle pierced the air, his arrow quickly finding its way to rest against Rahi's throat. "Ya wanna try that again?" Yondu growled.

Rahi couldn't find any words, just babbled out incoherent nonsense as he nearly shit his pants. The other two Ravagers in the group weren't laughing, just cowering with their friend afraid they'd be next once Yondu finished with him. Other crew mates standing within the hall also stopped to stare in stunned silence.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't run my arrow through ya for speakin' to yer captain like that? Even worse offense for implying I'd screw around with a child." Yondu's eyes were dark and full of rage. Even you were a bit frightened, enough to almost let the child comment slide, and you weren't even the target.

"Dude! He's so old! Ew!" you shout over to the terrified young Ravager, hoping to help the situation by making it clear that nothing like that was ever going to be a thing. And, if you were to be honest, slight payback for Yondu calling you a child.

Yondu whipped his head around to you, and you caught a momentary expression of "You little shit!" before he said, "And don't ya forget it!"

He turned back to Rahi. "I'm waiting." he said, still glowering and crossing his arms expectantly.

Rahi was still busy freaking out. It looked like he was about to cry. He eventually managed to squeak out a, "I'm sorry!" among his pleas for Yondu not to kill him.

Yondu called back his arrow. "That's what I thought. For yer smart mouth you and the other two there are gonna wash the outside of the Eclector, and yer all gonna keep at it until the whole ship's clean." With a smug smile he added. "Guess yer all gonna miss out on shore leave."

This obviously didn't go over well with Rahi's friends, who were now glaring and smacking him at the back of his green head. The next shore leave after the upcoming one wouldn't happen for another 3 months.

"Ya heard me. Git going. And yer still all responsible fer yer other duties too." Yondu added.

The three young men begrudgingly started making their way past when Yondu stopped them again with an, "Ah, Ah, Ah." making them turn back, dreading what else he might have to add.

"I think ya better apologize to this young lady too, for thinking she'd want her first time to be with someone so old." He looked at you pointedly as he said this and you squinted back at him, a nervous giggle escaping your throat as you rubbed the back of your head. Shouldn't have spoke up and called your captain old, now he was going to have to make an example of you as well for mouthing off. "Yer gonna be cleaning out the brig for that one, missy." he said, loud enough for everyone else to hear. Had to make it look good, after all.

Rahi muttered out an apology before scurrying away with his now very irritated mates, but not before Yondu cried out after him with a, "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." He said this with a thick veil of warning. It was a threat, and one you hadn't expected to hear after the conversation you just had with him.

It was clear that no one else in hallway had expected to hear this from their captain either. Looks of shock were exchanged among the Ravagers in the hallway. Rahi and his buddies' eyes all widened in shock when his words finally sunk in and their scurry turned into a sprint to get away before they could make things even worse. That comment Rahi made had apparently pissed the captain off bad.

"What the rest of ya staring at?" Yondu said, startling the rest of the hallway dwelling crew into motion. "I know ya'll got shit to do, get on it!" He looked at you and cocked his head as if to say "Get moving." and you obeyed, making your way toward the brig to complete your extra cleaning duties.

Yondu did his best to hide a smirk as he made his way down to his quarters. He knew rumors would start spreading like wildfire about Rahi nearly causing Yondu to put an end to the rite of passage after that display. It was bound to piss more than a few of the younger crew off. He didn't care much for the lazy shit anyway, so it was better the crew think he was the reason for any upcoming changes rather than you, and if it succeeded in helping him end the whole culture around that particular thing, even better. They really did get too wound up about it.

***

The morning of shore leave came and you were nervous as hell. Yondu had pulled you aside the night before to let you know he had taken care of what he promised, and described the whore-bot he paid to help you fake it so you would know which one to accept. Still, even knowing it was taken care of you couldn't help the growing pit of nervousness in your stomach, though you did your best to hide it.

Since clearly the Eclector couldn't dock on the planet, being about a mile and a half long and all, Ravagers on shore leave would pool together on M-ships for the journey to and back, kind of like a funny buddy-system.

As per usual, you pooled in a ship with Yondu, Kraglin, and Peter along with Tullk, Oblo, and Horuz. Yondu and Kraglin sat up front to pilot, Tullk, Oblo and Horuz filled in the middle, while you and Peter got put in the back, as always.

While the older men laughed and carried on in front of you, you felt Peter nudge you in the arm. You looked over to see him looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You ok?" he asked, having noticed how you were unusually quiet and fidgety.

"Yeah, I'm great." you lied, "Never better."

Peter rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. "Don't give me that. Are ya nervous?" he asked, obviously knowing full well what everyone expected you'd be doing on this shore leave. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

You gave him a look, saying, "No!" before coming clean with a, "Fine. A little." as you turned your gaze down into your lap to fidget with your watch some more.

"It'll be ok," he assured, "I was a little nervous my first time, too," he admitted. Peter was a few years older than you at 20, and it was hard for you to picture him having been nervous about it, seeing as he now seemed to be trying to work his way through every cute girl in the galaxy.

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"Yeah. I mean, I was still super excited, but I was a little nervous too. Those horror stories the older guys tell us really get to you."

You giggled with him, remembering what Yondu had told you the other day.

Peter continued, "But anyway, you're gonna be fine. But I did want to give you this." He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you. It was a condom.

"Peter!" you whisper-shouted, blushing.

"Hey, if you're gonna do it, I wanna know you're being smart about it. Always use protection. Even with the Love-bots. Can't ever be too careful." He held his hand out more insistently.

You blushed harder and accepted the gift, even though you knew you wouldn't be needing it. "Thanks."

"Come on now, don't get all frowny on me. I'm just looking out for you." Peter teased, aiming a few pokes at your ribs, knowing it always got a good giggle or two out of you.

It worked. Giggles escaped your throat as you twisted in your seat and swatted at his hand, "Quit it!" you squeaked, but his mission was accomplished anyway, you were smiling now.

"There we go!" he teased, grinning at you.

"Shush!" you replied, sticking your tongue out at your friend and laughing when he flicked you in the arm for it. Soon enough the two of you were in a slap battle. You weren't really fighting, and neither of you struck with the intent to hurt (well, not much anyway) it was just how the two of you played sometimes. This carried on until you heard Yondu announce that you all had made it to your destination, and then the nervousness started to creep back into your belly.

Peter and you were the last off the ship. Yondu and the other men headed off, leaving the two of you to your own devices with calls to behave yourselves, but "not too much" *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

You almost wished he had stuck around longer, but you knew he had already done his part. It would look weird if he stuck around to hold your hand, so to speak. You look to Peter, wanting to stall just a bit longer. "So, ya hungry?"

"Figured you'd want to get right to business," he teased. He knew you were probably stalling, but decided to go along with it anyway rather than abandon you straight away. You had been here before, but he knew this time was different. This time there was a pressure to do something new, and you had already admitted you were nervous about it.

"Uh, can't do it on an empty stomach," you say, forcing a smile.

He ruffled your hair. "Good point. I'm starving." He suggested you two grab some fries at the nearby bar inside the brothel (the whole place was the brothel, let's be honest) and you followed him.

When you both had finished you tried to think of something else to stall, maybe play some pool? However, you never got the chance, for a whore-bot with green hair and looking to be around your age came over to your table to greet you. It was the one Yondu told you to look for, and it asked if it could "show you a good time." You looked nervously at Peter who shot you a thumbs up while trying not to laugh. You glanced back at the bot and tentatively nodded, which Peter took as a sign to high-tail it out of there, leaving you alone. The bot asked for your ID, as you knew it would, and part of you wished you "forgot" it back on the ship, knowing that the bots were programed to refuse service to anyone under the age of 17 and required ID of younger-looking patrons to prove it.

After scanning your ID, the bot took you by the hand and flirtatiously led you across the room to a set of stairs. You began to hear some cheers as you ascended the stairs behind the bot and you were blushing too hard to even attempt to ham it up for their benefit.

Once in the room the bot turned to you. "I understand this isn't meant to be an ordinary engagement. Mr. Udonta left instructions to only perform counterfeit coitus, correct?"

You blushed and nodded, taken aback by the professionalism of the sex-bot, before wondering if you were being rude by assuming otherwise.

"Have you done this before?"

You shook your head, still blushing.

"It's alright. There's plenty of time to figure it out. I've been booked for three hours."

You sputtered. "Excuse me?!" you cried, trying not to be too loud. "Three-? What are we supp-"

The bot gave a laugh and held up its hand. "Do not worry, Miss. I was paid extra to deliver that joke. Mr. Udonta felt it would be very funny. I've only actually been booked for an hour, the standard amount of time."

You let a sigh of relief. You still felt that an hour was going to drag on, but at least it wasn't flarkin' three. "So, what do we do?"

The bot took your hand again and led you to the large bed in the center of the room. "Lie down here." You looked at the bot nervously and it clarified. "The noises will be more realistic if both our weights are on the bed."

You did as the bot instructed and it climbed over you. "I understand this may be awkward, but I'll ask that you trust the process. I will do this," the bot began to rhythmically rock its body back and forth, each rock ending in its hands hitting the headboard and making it knock into the wall behind it. "and then you can start making moaning sounds, you can repeat after me." The bot then started moan, encouraging you with a gesture of its hand when you were too busy blushing to follow the lead. You did your best to mimic the sounds. "We shall continue like this for 10 minutes, and then rest." the bot instructed, ushering you again with more hand gestures when you paused to give it a puzzled look.

After several minutes the bot prompted you to get louder, and then louder again still a few moments after. You realized it was coaching you to simulate you approaching the climax and you got nervous again, not knowing what to do when "that moment" was meant to happen. The bot read your face and told you to relax, just follow it's lead as it thumped against the wall faster and it moaned louder.

You followed its lead until it told you to make a last few loud "Oh's!" and then it began to slow its thumping before coming to a stop.

Whoops and laughter could be heard from the bar outside the door shortly after, and you blushed harder as the bot crawled off of you. "We will now have a few minutes of rest before beginning another simulation."

You sat up. "So we'll just keep repeating like this until the time's up?" you asked.

"Not quite," answered the bot. "We'll change things up a bit, different positions, different sounds, helps to keep it interesting."

"This seems like a lot of work?" you say.

"Yes, well we're paid to put on a show here. Might as well ensure it's convincing," the bot answered with a shrug and a smile.

You winced as you realized you could hear similar noises you had just faked coming from the rooms next to yours and then more whooping and cheering once they, too, stopped. "The walls are kinda thin in here, huh?" you say awkwardly.

The bot smiled sympathetically, "It seems that way, but not really. Only the louder noises make it out. Normal conversation levels are typically left unheard from outside the rooms, so you're clear to speak freely if that was a concern."

"Good to know," you say. You honestly had been a little concerned about that. "So, do we just sit around then?"

"I could give you a massage, if you'd like."

"That... actually sounds really nice. Sure, thank you." You accept the offer, realizing you could use a little stress reliever. "What's your name, by the way?" you ask, feeling a bit guilty for not having asked the bot's name before then and wondering if you should feel silly about that or not.

"You may call me Finn," the bot answered, not seeming fazed in the slightest. "Would you prefer to remove your clothes or leave them on?" The bot- Finn- motioned for you to turn around to give it access to your back.

"Um, clothes on, please?" you say, reaching for your zipper. "But I'll take off my jacket."

"Alright." The bot said, it's tone not caring in the slightest, and you supposed it very likely didn't care one way or another. It went straight to work, starting slow by gathering your hair and pulling it back and up almost as if it were going to tie your hair in a ponytail, but instead of securing an elastic it just repeated this motion a few more times. It was actually very relaxing, and it made you wish you had someone around to play with your hair more often.

With a final gentle tug the bot moved one hand to your forehead while the other worked at the back of your neck, kneading where the nape of your neck met your skull, making you close your eyes and sigh deeply.

To your delight the bot then threaded its fingers through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. A soft hum escapes you as you stopped yourself from leaning into to touch out of shyness, and you almost let out a whine when the scratching stopped. However, you were soon soothed by the bot beginning to knead into your neck and shoulders.

You had just barely stopped yourself from moaning once when the bot then pressed into another spot that made it impossible to not make a sound, though you tried. Finn speaks up. "Let yourself relax fully," the bot encouraged. "It's alright to allow yourself to be noisy here, may even work to your benefit under the circumstances."

You giggled slightly and blushed. Finn was right, after all. If there were any time to just let go and relax it would technically be here and now. Before you could think much further Finn had dragged the knuckles of each thumb up each side of your spine with just the right amount of pressure to coax a genuine moan out of you, surprising you as it happened. You had never really realized before just how much stress your work as a Ravager took out on your back. You began to wonder if these Love-bots were also designed to be professional masseuses, because Finn seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and it was amazing.

Finn ended the massage a bit later by working back up your back and working their fingertips back into your hair for a last bit scalp massage.

You were almost disappointed when it ended, but when it was over you turned to look at the Love-bot. "Thank you, that was really nice." you say.

"Anytime." Finn smiled. "We still have twenty minutes left, shall we begin another simulation?"

You sighed. "I suppose. He paid for an hour, might as well act like I'm using it." You smiled, not feeling quite as bitter about the situation anymore after the massage. Finn really did have magic fingers. Or state of the art massage programing. Probably the latter.

"Indeed." Finn answered. "After all, there are no refunds."

You let out a slight chuckle at the bot's bluntness. "Alright, so what now?"

The next simulation involved you both standing on the edge of the bed with the wall to hold your balance as you bounced slightly up and down to make the bed squeak. The bot encouraged your to make similar noises as before, but to also throw out some curses, like, "Oh! Fuck!" It even did the same, occasionally calling out a "Yes! Right there! Oh, yes!" that made you raise an eyebrow. You had to fight from giggling the whole time at the situation. It was pretty funny after all. You were both jumping on the bed like children.

When that simulation had finished you sat down on the bed and looked at Finn. "Do you guys... er...-bots?... feel anything?" you asked, referring to the language the bot had used earlier. "Or are you just supposed to say stuff like that as an act?"

"We don't have nerve endings, and therefore we don't really 'feel things' like you might, but there are certain sensors that can be activated during a session with a client and prompt a correct response. However, as this session is only a simulation, I suppose you can call my dialogue 'acting.'"

You half-grinned when the realization of the bot's words hit you. "Are you saying... you're like a 'sexy' arcade game?" you say, trying not to giggle, before becoming suddenly afraid that might have been offensive. "I mean- obviously you're not a toy- I mean- I didn't mean to offend you."

The bot chuckled. "There's no need to worry. There are certain similarities, one could see how you might draw that conclusion."

You blushed again and attempted to change the subject. "So... what are we going to do with the last simulation?"

"You have a couple options. We can simulate against the door, or we can simulate bending over the bed. We could also simulate oral, but the noises you made during the massage more or less already worked in its favor."

You blushed at that. You already knew the door was out of the question, as you had an admittedly irrational fear that it might pop open as you were faking the deed. "We can try over the bed."

"Very well. This one will require less movement of you, you may remain seated there." Finn said as they stood up and moved to stand with their legs between your own. "This one may also be a bit awkward," the bot warned, "as it requires thrusting into the bed on my part. Ready?"

You nodded hesitantly and the bot began a steady rhythm of motion against the bed, making it creak.

The bot was right. This was more awkward, and you were grateful when it was finally over with about five minutes to spare.

You stood from bed and grabbed your jacket. "Thanks. This wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." you said truthfully. In fact, you really almost thought you'd come back if for no other reason than to get another back rub.

"You still have five more minutes, is there anything else I can do for you today?"

You smiled shyly and said, "Well, I won't argue if you play with my hair again..."

***

You were of course greeted with congratulatory cheers and high-fives when you exited the room along with the other few crew mates who had recently come of age... and had still been allowed to attend shore leave that is. R.I.P Rahi and his friends. (They hadn't died, but you can bet they were probably really regretting pissing Yondu off.)

A few fellow Ravagers bought you some congratulatory drinks and the rest of the night seemed to fly by.

Eventually you caught back up with Peter and shortly after that Yondu announced it was time to head back, which of course received some disappointed grumbling among the crew. However, nobody argued, knowing it might cost them their next shore leave if they got "fussy like toddlers" as Yondu would say.

You and Peter got back to the ship to find Tullk and Oblo already there waiting. Horuz showed up just after and sighed to see Yondu and Kraglin weren't there yet. Yondu and Kraglin were the only ones with keys to Yondu's M-ship, so you all had to stand outside and converse among yourselves as he took his sweet time getting there.

He was probably just paying the Sneeper woman who owned the place and would be there any minute, but 'any minute' still felt like forever when it was cold.

Eventually he and Kraglin did show up and unlock the ship so you could all get in.

Once inside the ship and mostly everyone had strapped in Kraglin called back to you from the co-pilots seat with tipsy laughter in his voice. "So d'ya have fun? Feel any different? Any horror stories to add to the list?" He looked teasingly at Oblo and Oblo flipped him the bird.

Yondu swatted at him, saying, "Aw, leave the girl alone," but there was also laughter in his scolding, so he wasn't that serious.

You answered anyway. "Ya. Had a blast, Kraglin. Smooth sailing. Just a little sleepy."

This made the other men chuckle, though you weren't entirely sure why, although you could guess.

Yondu piped up. "If she falls asleep Quill's gotta carry her in."

Peter scoffed with a laugh. "Why do I gotta?" he said, before turning to you to add. "You better not fall asleep then."

"Well if you fall asleep I ain't carrying you in! Probably break my back if I tried. You can just stay sleeping in the ship." you laughed back.

"Why you little!" Peter cried out with a grin, aiming to poke you in the ribs, but you dodged him, returning a swat of your own to his arm. And, like on the way over, the two of you were engrossed in another slap battle. The others just let you two carry on, busy with their own conversations and laughing amongst themselves.

Eventually you and Peter did tire yourselves out and Yondu chuckled to the other men when after docking the ship he noticed you had both fallen asleep, curled up in your respective seats. Oblo snapped a picture, cooing, "Aw look! Ain't that precious!"

"Send that to me." Yondu said with a grin. "Might blow it up, hang it in the Mess Hall." This earned a laugh from the others. He looked at Tullk with a grin before exiting the ship. "Ya better wake 'em. I'm sure as hell not carryin' them to bed."

***

The next morning Yondu was alone in his quarters when he decided to call up Stakar.

After a few rings Stakar's face comes up on the screen, and the two men give a Ravager salute in greeting before Stakar asks what's brought Yondu to call him.

"I wanna talk to ya about that whole coming of age and having sex thing."

Stakar raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Younger crew just get too wound up about it. It ain't healthy." Yondu responded.

Stakar still looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Ya know what I mean." Yondu said firmly. "They get all wound up like it's the most important thing in the world, and it's because everyone makes a big old deal outta something silly like that."

"It hasn't been a problem before?" Stakar said thoughtfully. "What's changed? It's that Terran girl isn't it? Of course. She just came of age." Stakar shook his head. "I don't care what you say, you're soft on her and Peter. You can't get attached and let them influence your judgement like that, Yondu."

"No, it ain't like that," Yondu said, trying to cover his ass and continuing before Stakar can interrupt him. "It's got nothin' to do with them. I just can't have my crew bullying their mates just cause they don't wanna fuck yet or lettin' the whole thing get to their heads makin' them all disrespectful-like. Almost had to keel-haul a few boys who suddenly thought they were big enough to start disrespecting their captain over it."

Stakar looked at him suspiciously. "No, we can't have that... What do you propose then? It's not like we can stop them. You tell young people they can't do something, they're only gonna do it more."

"I know that- Look. I'm not sayin' we do away with it entirely. I could care less what they do on shore-leave. But we can maybe make them realize it's not such a big damn deal. Ya know, slow-like. Maybe they'd stop getting so wound-up about it." Yondu said, quickly adding, "If they're less focused on that maybe they'd work harder."

Stakar thought for a bit. Yondu was right, he thought. He had noticed the younger crowd getting a bit wound up about it, and sometimes they did let the excitement get ahead of their duties... "Maybe you're right," he conceded. "If it's affecting their jobs maybe we should try and change the culture around it... I'll talk with some of the other captains and get back to you."

Yondu grinned and nodded. "All I ask."

***

You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It was the day after shore-leave and no one had brought up how you "Became a woman" at all. It was as if the previous week's excitement had been completely forgotten, and you couldn't be happier.

You did notice in the following days that Rahi seemed to be getting a bit of flack. He hadn't been particularly well liked before, always trying to push his duties off on other crew mates or blaming others for things he had broken, but now he was practically a pariah. Even his buddies didn't seem to want much to do with him, though that could be because they were still mad that they had been dragged under into his punishment despite not having done anything to deserve it other than be with him at the time.

You almost felt bad for him until Peter explained that along with the 'written' rule that Ravagers don't deal in kids; harming or forming inappropriate relationships with children and teens (i.e: having sexual relations with younger crew) was also a HUGE no-no. Even worse if the offender is someone high-ranking. Rahi, though he just thought he was being funny, had more or less unwittingly falsely accused Yondu of breaking that part of the code with the joke he made, hence why Yondu had been so offended and pissed. Peter was honestly surprised Yondu had let him live after that.

He also added that no one wants to be around someone who thinks it's funny to make those particular jokes. Real accusations of that nature are taken very seriously among Ravager Clans, so if someone is found to just be flippantly saying crap like that, the general feel is that it makes it harder for real victims to be heard, so the crew will tend to shun the offender to make it clear that behavior isn't acceptable. And well, if the offender didn't learn their lesson pretty quick and get back into the good graces of their captain and crew, they'd quickly find themselves to be cannon fodder.

Even Ravagers know there's a line between raunchy and unacceptable.

There may have also been the matter that when Yondu had said "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." much of the crew, after the rumor had gotten twisted up a bit via game of telephone, had taken it to mean that Rahi had almost gotten shore-leave taken away from everyone- forever. And well, that just didn't sit right with a lot of folks. It was a final nail in the coffin, if you will.

However, what you didn't know was about Yondu's conversation with Stakar.

Stakar did go talk to the other captains, and more than a few did finally admit similar instances among their younger ranks after having heard through the grapevines about a giant stink a lad called Rahi had caused on Udonta's ship. They admitted to instances of bullying, pressure, and disrespect occurring and directly related to the particular rite of passage and collectively agreed with Yondu that a change surrounding the culture could be beneficial, much to Yondu's surprise, and also his relief.

He never did tell you about his conversation with Stakar, though he was sure you may start to suspect if everything went well and things started changing regarding that particular aspect of life. As long as no one else had to feel like he saw you feeling that night in the laundry, he'd be happy.

You had come to his quarters the day after the visit to Contraxia, knocking almost as soon as he had hung up with Stakar. You had wanted to thank him him for helping you, both with the advice and with the Love-Bot. You told him how you felt so much better after having that talk with him, and how you no longer felt broken.

He'd never say, because screw sentiment, but it warmed his heart to know he helped you realize there was nothing wrong with you, that you had never been damaged. You two parted with a hug and he let you know to not be afraid if you needed to come to him about stuff like that in the future, just not to make a habit of telling the others lest they accuse him of going soft.

You were his little girl, something else he never intended to say out loud, because again, screw sentiment. He felt a responsibility for your well-being, even if you could be a little shit like Peter sometimes.

Ah, fuck sentiment. He knew you two were his kids, and he was damn proud.

***

About a week after shore leave you and Peter happened across Yondu outside the Mess Hall doors as you were heading in for supper.

"Hey, look! It's Terran One and Terran two!" Yondu said, oddly loudly.

"Um, hi?" You gave him an odd look. "What's up?"

"Now why would ya think somethin's up? Can't a captain greet his crew outside the Mess Hall before dinner?"

'Something's definitely up.' you thought, sharing a glance with Peter who was clearly thinking the same thing. "Are we in trouble? Did we do something?" Peter chuckled nervously. He didn't know about you, but he had maybe definitely rigged a supply closet in the control room with some firecrackers, and he wasn't sure if some poor soul (probably Kraglin) had already fell victim to it, meaning he was about to be in hot water.

You were also grinning nervously. You didn't know about Peter's firecrackers, but you had also maybe definitely hidden some poppers under the cushion of Yondu's desk chair that morning when he was busy on the other side of the ship, but you weren't going to just turn yourself in without more information, now were you?

"I dunno, you tell me." Yondu said, smirking. "Are you in trouble? Ya'll got a guilty conscience?"

You and Peter shared a nervous glance. You both knew you both were most definitely guilty of something, however you two had a code. Never turn yourself in, and never turn your buddy in. You looked back at Yondu, suppressing a nervous giggle. "No? I don't think so?"

Kraglin then came outside the Mess Hall doors to stand with Yondu. Kraglin had a big shit eating grin on his face, almost as if he were trying not to laugh when he saw you and Peter there.

Yondu threw him a glance which Kraglin returned with a nod. You noticed this and you exchanged another look with Peter. Something was definitely up. This felt like a trap.

"Well, what're ya waiting for? Get in there and grab some supper!" Yondu ordered, grinning strangely. He opened the door for you- oh shit something was absolutely up here.

You and Peter eyed him suspiciously but obeyed, entering the Mess hall without a word.

Once inside you noticed the rest of the crew inside were all oddly quiet, all staring at the two of you with grins and some suppressing giggles behind their hands. You heard the doors shut behind you and turned to see Yondu and Kraglin standing in front of them, both donning the biggest shit eating grins of all time.

"Cap'n has a surprise for you guys, d'ya- do ya like it?" Kraglin asked, trying to suppress his own giggles.

You heard Peter exclaim a, "Oh hell no!" and you turned to see what had caught his attention, noticing the crew had finally broke out into loud raucous laughter around you.

Hanging high on the wall about 10 feet to the right of the Mess Hall entrance doors was a humongous blown up photo of you and Peter. It was the photo you guys didn't know Oblo had snapped when you returned from Contraxia. It showed the two of you each curled up asleep in your respective seats of Yondu's M-ship. Peter was sucking his thumb. You were cuddling one of Yondu's softer dash toys.

You both paled as you stared up at the giant poster hung high on the wall. Hung conveniently high enough that neither of you would be able to reach it to rip it down, although Peter made a few good attempts.

Your eyes narrowed at your captain as he approached you, his laughter matching that of the crew. He pulled you towards him and ruffled your hair as he asked. "What's the matter? Ya don't like yer surprise?"

You glared up at him as Peter was now climbing up on a chair in a vain attempt to reach and pull the photo down. "This so means war, blue man!"

"Don't pick fights ya can't win, pipsqueak." Yondu laughed. "Consider this payback for those poppers in my chair, and ya can tell Peter this is for those firecrackers in the supply closet."

You sighed and punched him in the arm, but he only laughed and pulled you in close to ruffle your hair again, "Oh lighten up! Ya don't really expect me to just let my kids have all the fun, huh?"

You jerked your head towards him with a surprised expression, and it seemed it was only then he realized what he had said. Grateful that no one else would have heard it over his noisy crew he attempted to backtrack. "Uh, don't read too much into it." he said, clapping you on the back and announcing to Kraglin that he was going to grab some food. Kraglin, who was busy laughing at Peter, who had seemingly given up his attempts to rip down the photo in favor of walking dejectedly back over to you, nodded and joined his Captain in obtaining some supper.

Peter and you turned to face the photo again, the laughter from the crew still not having died down. Peter spoke first. "This means war, right?"

"Definitely. I had already set up a dye pack in Yondu's shower earlier. He'll be a weird shade of purple by morning," you affirmed with a grin.

"Nice. We gotta get one on Kraglin too."

"Absolutely," you reply. "After supper?"

"Yeah. After supper." Peter agreed.

The two of you made your way to get your supper, ignoring the laughs and teases of the other Ravagers along the way and discussing further options of getting Yondu and Kraglin back for this.

“I’ll try my best,” you say as he reaches for his phone and places it in front of you to swipe between two photos. You didn’t exactly know who they were of, but you recognized what was happening immediately. Tom had talked your ears off about his wife’s affair at this point. He was obsessed and while you, Frankie and the rest of the guys had tried to be supportive at first, it was becoming more and more of a concern to you all. You had thought you would bring it up with him tonight when you saw him but when you got to the bar and he seemed fine- cheerful even, you thought maybe he had made some progress. Maybe you didn’t need to intervene. That was until you looked down at the phone.

“Tom,” You sigh, looking between the pictures of two men you had never seen before. The ones you assumed he suspected his wife was cheating on him with. “I’m not Molly.” You say with a sympathetic look in your eye when you look up at him again.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you had to choose.“ He said, waving away your comment to swipe between the two photos for you again. To choose? Choose what? Which one seemed most likely to wear flip flops instead of sneakers? Which one you would lend a quarter for a shopping cart at the grocery store? Which one you’d choose to help you plot a murder? You knew what he meant but you didn’t see how your answer would help, or if you even had an answer to give.

“I don’t know, they’re both good-looking I guess.” You shrug. 

“Just pick one.” He insists a little more forcefully than before. You knew he wasn’t always the happiest drunk but you had never seen him this way before and you weren’t a fan.

“I think there’s a lot more that goes into your wife’s decision to sleep with another man than appearances.” You interjected. You didn’t know Molly particularly well and you weren’t defending her but you knew Tom hadn’t been acting like much of a husband in recent years and who were you to blame if she went looking for affection elsewhere.

“You’re overcomplicating the question.” He groans in frustration. “Don’t worry about Frankie, he’s got thick skin. He knows you’re looking.” Looking? Looking at what exactly? The ceiling? The ground? The bottom of your glass in hopes that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t see you and you might be able to drop the subject? You’d hardly noticed the way your hand squeezed Frankie’s a little tighter under the table much less if it was reassurance for him or yourself but you could feel your patience running thinner as what had started out as mild irritation morphed into sheer discomfort with the situation. 

“Tom, I know nothing about these people!” You scoff far more defensive than you had been before. You didn’t want to have to make up an answer but you were getting pretty darn close. You could understand aesthetically. Guy number one’s hair was nice to look at, guy number two had kind eyes, guy number one had a little bit of scruff that reminded you of Frankie, guy number two wore a Black Keys shirt that you liked. None of these things made you feel anything though. Not like Frankie did. But Frankie wasn’t the answer to the question Tom was pressing you with.

“No- Just at a glance, gut reaction, which one would you rather fuck?” He says and you’re not sure if your mouth drops from the shock of him asking you that point-blank or at the gall he would need to have had to ask you such a thing in front of your boyfriend but before you can even think to come up with an answer, Frankie steps in.

“Tom!” He snaps. “She doesn’t want to answer the question! Now back off.” He says quite firmly. Something you knew wasn’t easy for him given that he was a close friend and someone he looked up to. He thinks that should be the end of it but Tom is quick to try and wave it off as though Frankie was the one acting out of line.

“C’mon man! Let her speak for herself!“ He says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat a little more. 

“Tom, you’re drunk, you’re pissed off and you’re hurting but that does not give you the right to harass my girlfriend!” 

“Harass your girlfriend? All I did was ask her a question-”

“Her answer is not going to change what happened!” Frankie just shy of shouts, managing to turn a couple of heads from nearby tables. You realize now that the frustration that had been building up over Tom’s pity party for the past three months had been affecting Frankie as bad if not worse than it had you. “It’s not!” He reiterates a little quieter now as though trying to recover from his sudden outburst. “Your wife screwed another man. That fucking sucks but it’s not going to undo itself anytime soon. So I don’t know what you need to do to process that but you’ve gotta get this out of your system and figure out a game plan for what you’re gonna do next because you are making it harder and harder for us to feel sorry for you right now.” Frankie lets out a heavy sigh and a slight shake to his head when he brings the bottle that his grip had tightened on so much throughout the conversation that his knuckles had gone white, up to his lips.

You watch as Tom’s jaw ticks to the side and he smooths a hand over his face, a minuscule nod as his gaze drops to the table. The silence hangs thick in the air for what feels like an eon until Benny shoulders into the booth on the other side of you just about squishing you against Frankie who has since adopted a similar posture to Tom. 

“Who died?” He asks, tossing you a goofy look that makes a smile tempt your lips as you shake your head and Will slides in across the table from you. 

“No one.” You assure him as you graciously accept the fresh drink Will places in front of you. “Speaking of not dead... Anyone heard from Santiago recently? It’s been a while, he’s got me worried.” You say in an attempt to change the topic despite you and Frankie both knowing you had spoken to him hardly 24 hours ago. Your attention seems to slip away from the response though when Frankie’s hand squeezes your knee in a silent thank you and you let your face tug into a soft smile when you look up at him, content that you’ve successfully changed the topic and made it stick.

***

“I’m sorry,” You hear Frankie say from next to you as you make your way out the door armed with the excuse of having to work in the morning when in reality you could sense that you and Frankie both were getting a little tired of being social tonight. 

“For what?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion as the cool air hits you and you plunge your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

“I’m sorry he was being such a jerk to you in there.” Frankie clarifies and you find yourself stopping halfway across the slowly emptying paring lot to turn and face him.

“He’s going through a lot right now.” You reply carefully, your exasperation from earlier having worn off by now only to leave the pity you had felt when he let his gaze drop after Frankie had told him off. 

“That’s not an excuse for his behaviour though.” Frankie insists and you nod. 

“Maybe not.” You muse. “But I know how much he means to you and I don’t want to get between that.” You shrug. “He needs you.” You say. “He needed to hear that from you.” You clarify, reaching your hand out to lock your fingers in his. Knowing Frankie he’s likely beating himself up over snapping at him like that already when you’re sure his conscience should be clear. He did everything right. “Thank you for standing up for me.” You smile on a lighter note and watch as a similar expression brightens up his features.

“You know I’ve always got your back, right?” He asks and you nod in return, hardly realizing the way your feet have managed to shuffle you closer to him as he dips his head down to kiss you. You can just about feel his breath fanning your upper lip when-

Bonk

The bill of his cap collides with your eyebrow and you both break out laughing, your hand bracing you on his arm as you hunch over in hysterics and you wind up stumbling slightly with the few drinks in you before you bump into his chest which still shakes as he holds you to him in an attempt to keep you both from toppling over. You’ve hardly recovered before he musters a “Is this better?” and you glance up to see the salt-stained cap placed backwards on his head instead which only makes you burst out laughing again as you flip it around to place it backwards on your own head. 

“I far prefer being able to do this anyway.” You hum through your persisting smile when you slide your hands up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. 

“This is a good look for you.” He teases, eyelids lazy with contentment as his hands grip your hips and tug you just a little closer to him. 

“You’re a dork.” You beam with an amiable shake of your head “Let me kiss you.” You plea and he obliges. 

You pick Frankie.

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His name was Steve, and he lived in the back room of the Gas n’ Sip. At least, that’s what you gathered from the sleeping bag, toothbrush, and the singular change of clothes.

Steve was a peculiar man, but the whole staff could tell he tried hard to be a good employee, so no one really gives him too hard of a time. He does work, he is polite to all the customers, and he takes even the smallest tasks seriously. It was endearing, actually, the importance he placed on properly stocking the slushie machine.

Steve was your favorite employee to have to work with for those very reasons. Plus, he was just fun to talk to. He asked so many interesting questions that lead to many in depth, thought provoking discussions, it was different from the people you had grown to know over your time here.

But Steve seemed to have a past he wouldn’t talk about. There were times when he would clam up during conversation, change the topic abruptly, and no one was really sure what he could have to hide. Other than being a little lacking in some knowledge of the modern world, he was rather normal. What could he have to be running from?

“Steve, check out that car in the parking lot.” You told him one day. “Old school, sleek, and just like new. Now that’s how to drive in style.” When he turned to look, you leaned your head towards the black Chevy Impala that clearly wasn’t from this decade. Steve froze when his eyes laid on the car. He stopped breathing, a look of fear seeping into his eyes. He looked like he wanted to disappear from the very spot he stood in.

Your eyebrows pinched together in concern. “What’s wrong Steve?” But he wouldn’t answer you. Instead, he turned and rushed to the backroom, throwing an incomprehensible excuse over his shoulder, just before the bell above the door jingled upon opening.

Tall, flannel-layered, and bowlegged, the man walked in and scanned the store with his green eyes. It didn’t seem like he was looking for a specific type of beer or chips.

“Is that your car out there?” You asked, grabbing his attention. He glanced from you, to his car, and back to you again, a smile on his face now.

“Yeah, most reliable car I’ve ever owned.” He grinned as he spoke, patting his coat pocket where his keys must have been.

You laughed a little in agreement. “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, do they?”

He shook his head. “Nope, sure don’t.” He glanced around the store once more before approaching you at the counter. “I’m here to visit a buddy of mine, is he in today? Slightly shorter than me, squinty blue eyes, kinda...”

“...Peculiar but well-meaning?” You finished his thought for him as he tried to find the right words to say.

He snapped his fingers. “Exactly! That’s him!”

“I’ll go look. Can I tell him who is looking for him?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of how to respond. It was a behavior that seemed familiar to you, from a time so long ago now. “Dean.” He finally responded.

You gave Dean a nod. “Be right back.” Turning, you made your way back to the stockroom, where Steve was furiously pacing in the very small space. He didn’t even look up as you opened the door, so you knocked on the wood to get his attention. When his head snapped up, his blue eyes were confused and darting around in a flighty manner. “Steve, there’s a friend of yours here to see you. Said his name’s Dean. Tall, green eyes, looks like he stole his wardrobe from a lumberjack, drives an old Chevy?”

Steve exhaled fast and sharp, as if you had just confirmed something he didn’t want to hear. “Tell him...” He let his sentence trail off. He seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do. “Tell him...I...I’m...”

“Is everything okay, Steve?” You put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.” He assured you. He was lying, of course, but he did his best to sound stable. “I’ll be out in a second.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder, still giving him a concerned look, but relenting at his words. He went to walk past you and out the door, but you stopped him before he could. “Hey Steve?” He turned to look at you, still frazzled. “I know what it’s like, to have your past come back to disturb the waters. You don’t have to go out there, but if it’s what will help you, than do what is best.”

Steve took a calming breath, a little of his anxiety fading away. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You gave him a half-smile, remembering being in his shoes. “I’m here if you need anything, okay?”

He gave only a silent nod in response, and left the room.

You left a few moments after, trying not to eavesdrop, but it was kinda hard with a store so small. Things needed stocked and cleaned, and when business was slow, the conversation could be picked up over the quiet hum of the TV above the counter. Bits and pieces stuck out to you: “Sam and I...case...leads...help...Please Cas...”

Cas? You thought to yourself as you placed candy-bars in the front counter. Is that supposed to be Steve?

“Dean, no...I’m no help to anyone anymore...I’m not...hunter...I can’t.”

You froze in your tracks, breaking the chocolate bar you meant to place on the rack at the front counter.

Hunter.

Was Dean...was Steve...? Impossible, you thought, this is Steve we are talking about. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t hustle pool at bars, doesn’t know the significance of beef jerky...he can’t be.

Dean sighed a dejected sigh. “Fine,” He said, more audibly now, “think it over, you’ll know where to find us.” His boots fell heavy as he walked out the door, and the bell echoed through the store as it closed behind him.

You didn’t mention it the entire rest of your shift. You kept conversation small: simple-work related questions and favors only. Steve’s blue eyes held storm clouds and you figured it was best to let a few of them pass on their own.

At four o’clock, you bought two sodas and found Steve by the back of the store. “Cherry or Grape?” You asked, leaning against the wall by the time clock, holding the drinks out for him.

He almost questioned you, but decided against it. “Grape.” He took the soda and unscrewed the cap. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Penny for your thoughts, Steve?”

“My woes are not worth monetary value.”

You chuckled a bit. “I meant, want to talk about it?”

He hesitated a moment, internally debating his answer, until he replied in an exhausted voice, “I’d like that.”

Leading the way, the two of you sat on a bench a little ways from the store. You cracked open your drink and let the carbonation bubbles fizzle away. “So what’s up. You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet since your friend left.” Steve stared at the bottle in his hands for a moment, not responding to you right away. “That...was a friend, right?”

“At first he was a colleague. We grew close the more we worked together, him, his brother, and I. But our jobs are-- were --stressful. We had a lot of close calls, a lot of losses, and mistakes were made. I specifically made a pretty bad one. Dean is trying to get me to come back.”

“But you don’t trust yourself?” You asked carefully.

His head dipped a little. “I caused a lot of heartache and pain because I thought I was doing what was right every single time I tried to help. I don’t know if I can face them both, Dean and his brother, and go back to everything like nothing happened.”

You let the silence stretch for a moment before asking, hesitantly, “What did you all do for a living.”

Steve actually laughed at your question. It was really a slightly more forceful breath through his nose, but a small, somewhat pained smile played at his lips. “We were...cops.”

You just nodded in response at first, not sure whether or not he was telling the truth. Cop is a damn close comparison to hunter, at least in your mind, and if you were in his shoes (you had been, technically still are), you’d say the same thing. “I’ve been there, Steve. In fact, that’s the reason I live in this little town and work in this little gas station. I ran from a mistake I couldn’t handle. You know what that did?”

Steve tilted his head. “What?”

“It made the healing process take a hell of a lot longer.” You informed him in a serious tone. “So if you want my advice, I’d at least hear them out, see what’s up, and help just this once. Get one win under your belt, and then work from there. If you pack it in a box and put it on a shelf, it’s gonna sit there in your peripheral vision and nag you with its presence more than if you take it down, open it up, and sort through the contents.”

Steve was silent for a long time. He felt there was truth to your words, a kind of truth that only comes from years or reflection and the realization that one has a little too late. The truth that one wishes to have heard years ago. He hasn’t known you for very long, but what he does know is that you are a good person who is genuinely kind in even the most silent of ways. So when you became verbal with your thoughts, it was because you thought it was important to hear.

“I...I think you make a very good point, Y/N.” Steve admitted, gazing at you with eyes of a calm blue. “Would you mind...I don’t have a car and Dean’s motel is a few too many miles to walk...”

“Of course.”

Last time you checked, cops didn’t stay in sleazy motels and keep multiple shotguns and rounds of ammo on their beds in plain sight next to open containers of beer. That was something hunters did.

The tallest of the two was the one to open the door. His eyes widened and a surprised grin grew on his face. “Cas!” He pulled Steve into a hug before he could protest. “It’s good to have you back.” He looked over to you and squared his shoulders a little bit. “Who’s your friend?”

“Um...Y/N.” You answered slowly, glancing behind him to see the spread of news articles and leads on the table next to a laptop. Dean stood from the bed nearby, shock on his face. “I work at the Gas n’ Sip with...Steve...?”

The tall one looked between the two of you with a guilty expression. “Does she...?”

“No, I haven’t had the chance.” Steve/Cas explained.

Tall guy nodded and moved from the doorway. “Why don’t you both come in?”

The two of you entered in silence. Dean walked over and hugged Steve/Cas as well, thanking him for coming to help. Duffle bags sat open at the foot of each bed, and they had bags of salt and silver flasks full of what you assumed was holy water. You also saw the glint of a few knives buried under pairs of clothes. It literally screamed hunter in this room.

“You guys are so obvious that I am actually physically pained by it.” You stated, crossing your arms over your chest. All three men looked at you, slack jawed, not sure how to respond. Steve/Cas had his head tilted so far to the side, it could have fallen right off his shoulders.

“Excuse me?” Dean finally said in a defensive tone. “Who are you again?”

“Y/N. Unlike some people, I kept my name when I left the life.”

“You were a hunter?” The tall one exclaimed. You nodded, and he shook his head with a laugh. “Of course Cas finds a hunter friend. I’m Sam, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and you shook it, gears turning in your head.

“Sam...and Dean...Winchester?” You asked, looking between the two boys.

“Yep, in the flesh.” Dean did a mock bow.

“When I was hunting with my mom, we ran into John Winchester a lot. Talked a lot about you two. I only heard mumblings after I left about you guys.” You turned to Steve/Cas, who was still looking at you, but his expression shifted to one of awe. “So where do you come in? I may not have heard much, but I never heard of you before. Though that’s probably because Steve isn’t your real name, is it?”

Steve/Cas hesitated, trying to figure out what to say, how much to say. Y/N? A hunter? What are the odds?

“Busted.” Dean muttered under his breath. Sam whacked him in the arm and hissed at him to shut up.

“I’m a friend of theirs, we met years ago on a hunt and we just kind of...stuck together.” He explained slowly. It wasn’t exactly a lie...but it wasn’t the full truth, and he knew it. He couldn’t admit to something he wasn’t anymore. “My real name is Cas.”

“Cas...” The name felt peculiar on your tongue, but somehow it fit him better than Steve ever did. “Nice to meet you, Cas.” You held out your hand for him to shake with a half-smile on your face.

Cas felt a little bit of the weight fall off his shoulders as he took your hand and shook it, a faint grin on his face as well. “Likewise, Y/N.”

Dean took in the mood of the room, and then clapped his hands together. “Alright, now that everything is settled, let’s get down to business.”

“So did you know she was a hunter when you met her?” Dean asked Cas as they loaded up their bags. Sam had taken you to the car to help pack the supplies and double check everything.

“Nope.” Cas answered as he loaded his shotgun with rock-salt rounds. “I had no idea. She seems to have been out of the life for awhile, mentioned once she’s been moving around the area since 2005.”

Dean hummed. “That’s a long time. No wonder she didn’t recognize us at first. She’s never heard of anything we’ve done.” He zipped his duffle shut and gave his friend a serious look. “Is that why you lied to her? So that she didn’t have to fall into the complecated shitshow the life became since she left?”

Cas heaved a sigh and shoved his gun in his bag. “Somewhat, yes. I didn’t want to have to admit I was something that, currently, I am not. I’m not an angel anymore. I may never be an angel again. What’s the use explaining it to her? It’s easier for her to just keep on as if I’m just a normal human hunter.”

“But you’re not just a normal human hunter, Cas. You’ve hardly been a human and a hunter at the same time. You’ve shot a gun maybe once? You’ve maybe absorbed a good amount of knowledge from us, second hand, but how are you gonna keep this up?”

Cas zipped his bag shut forcefully and slung it over his shoulder. “I have to try.”

Dean sighed but relented. He just got his friend back, now was probably not the time to be lecturing him on morals. “Alright, we better head out then.”

Cas remembered why he hated car rides as the four of you rode to the sight of the ghost haunting. It felt like everything took ages, but it actually only took 30 minutes. It was a fairly easy salt and burn with minimum amount of ghostly attack. For you, getting back into the life was like riding a bike-- you never really forgot in the first place. But for Cas, it was almost as if he never learned to ride in his lifetime. Every time he shot at the spirit, he missed, and the kickback shook him to the core each time. You had to knock him out of the way of flying objects more than once. He was better when he lost he sawed-off and picked up an iron bar from next to the fireplace. He was probably going to have a bruise for a while, he could feel it starting to form.

Clean up was simple, since it was a salt-n-burn, and once everything was back to normal, the four of you got back in the car and headed back to the motel.

“So Cas,” You prompted, “Do you prefer using blades or guns to hunt? You did a lot better when you had that bar in your hands than the shotgun.”

Cas shifted a little sheepishly next to you in the Impala. He chose to ignore Dean’s pointed glare in the rearview mirror. “I have more experience with blades than guns. I can trust my skills more than I can trust a machine.”

You nodded. “I can respect that.”

“Cas was usually the brains and strategy behind our hunts.” Dean chimed in. “He didn’t see much real action out there.”

Sam chuckled a little bit. “Yeah, he’s a walking encyclopedia of extensive knowledge on everything except how to accurately fire a shotgun, apparently.”

That made you smile. “I’d love to pick your brain about obscure monsters sometime then.”

Something stirred in Cas’ stomach and made his heart quicken, but he wasn’t sure why. “I’d like that.”

Dean and Sam shared a silent but knowing look in the front seat as the sky continued to darken around them. Both of them wondered what would come of the two of you. Would Cas stay for good, or would he go back to the Gas n’ Sip with you? Would you come back to the life, after so many years, and convince Cas to come too? Sam didn’t mind a new face, especially one that was still that good at the job so many years later. Dean didn’t mind too much either, since a clear head is something the both of them needed to keep them in line.

When they pulled up to the motel, they began to haul in their things and unpack for the night. You and Cas hung back, the both of you considering your options. Cas thought of the advice you had given him earlier. He felt a little better, having helped with something as simple as a vengeful spirit, but he certainly didn’t think he had redeemed himself for that. There was a part of him that wanted to go back, and a part of him that was still terrified to. He looked over at you and saw clouds in your eyes as you took stock of your duffle. It seemed like you were thinking the same things.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Cas asked, nudging you with his elbow. It made you smile a little through your concentration.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve worked a case with other people, and I forgot how much I liked having people to trust and to rely on.” You explained quietly. “A lot of people would count me lucky, being out of the life for as long as I have been. But I can’t help but feel like I ran like a coward all those years ago, and that I needed to stay. I’ve had that thought before, picking up solo cases when things came into town, but it never felt this strong before, the pull to come back.” You looked at Cas in the light of the streetlamps. “Should I go back?”

There was something in your expression that Cas had never seen before, vulnerability mixed with loss and guilt, uncertainty topping it all off. He was suddenly properly struck, for the first time that day, with the realization at you were a complex human being with more sides and experiences than he was lead to believe. “If there is one thing I learned in my time in the life, it’s that we have the free will to make whatever choices we want to make. If you want to go back and give it another shot, go ahead, because you still have the ability to leave again if it gets to that point. Even if you aren’t sure at first if it’s the right decision, go with it anyway, because you can change your mind later.”

Your eyes got a little misty, listening to his words. There was a wisdom to Cas that he hid well when you knew him as Steve. It was always diluted when you spoke in the store, now it was shining for all to see, and it gave you a comfort you had never known. “Would you go back with me?”

He smiled gently at the request. “If you’ll have me.”

You nodded and lugged your duffle off the trunk and onto your shoulder. “Let’s go celebrate our first successful hunt then, shall we?”

It never really occurred to you how fast time flew by when you lived a life as a hunter. Working in the Gas n’ Sip made everyday pass by painfully slow, seeing the same people and doing the same menial tasks day in and day out. But getting back in the life made time speed past without a second thought. Something new needed ganking in a new place every few weeks, with breaks in between for the four of you to hang out in the bunker or hustle some pool at local bars (you were so good at it that Dean didn’t know how to process it for a while, but now he uses it to his advantage). You got used to Sam and Dean’s bickering, and they got used to your cleaning every weekend and need for a movie marathon night about once a month. They showed you new tips and tricks for living in the life, and you showed them the better aspects of life that are worth living for.

You and Sam would nerd out over the old books in the library of the bunker. Dean would debate which food is the best as you made dinners for the group. But Cas...you’d stay up with Cas for hours on end some nights, talking about past hunts and different ages in history (Sam wasn’t kidding: Cas held 5 million libraries in his head), and just the randomest life things that either of you stumbled upon. Whatever you knew of him from the Gas n’ Sip only grew, and the two of you became practically inseparable. Of course, you’d get into arguments every now and then, mostly following a stressful hunt (and a needlessly reckless action one of you took to keep the other safe). It would usually simmer down and you’d both just be happy the other was alive at all. A year or so went by like this, and no matter what the life threw at you, you never regretted getting back in. You wondered if it was because Cas came with you. It occurred to you one day that you’d go anywhere with him.

And that was the day he wouldn’t let you.

“What do you mean I can’t come?” You pressed as Cas packed his duffle. “Is it because you think I can’t handle myself?”

“No!” He exclaimed, turning to you and sighing. He placed his hands gently on your shoulders. “No, Y/N, I promise it’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

“Sam and Dean found a lead pertaining to an old case of mine. It was...” he took a heavy breath, “It was the case where I caused so much pain and hurt that I ran in the first place. It involves things you’ve never seen and never fought before. It’s dangerous for you to go, so you need to stay here.”

“But I can help! I can research! I can be backup at the motel!” You countered. “I want to help.”

Cas gave you a sad smile, guilt building in his chest. “You can help best by staying here, and staying safe. Knowing you’re out of harm’s way is going to do more than any backup ever could.”

You huffed a sigh that made a few stray hairs flutter around your face. “Fine,” You grumbled, “I'll stay here.”

Cas squeezed your shoulders. “Thank you. I promise to come back in one piece.”

“You better, or so help me, I will bring you back and kill you myself.” You warned, wagging a finger in his face. He chuckled at the action. “Don't laugh at me, I mean it.”

Cas shook his head and felt the familiar sensation around his heart that happened when you acted this way, all fiercely protective and concerned. It was extremely endearing. “I know you mean it, that's why I'll make sure you don't have to make good on your threats.”

That made you smile. “Good.”

“Time to go Cas!” Dean shouted down the hall.

“Coming!” The both of you replied.

Sam, Dean, and Cas stood by the Impala as it idled outside the bunker. You insisted on seeing them off, and they knew better than to protest.

“We'll be fine, Y/N, we promise.” Sam assured you as he gave you a hug goodbye.

“You keep a level head out there, and don't bicker with your brother.” Dean laughed, and you turned your head towards him. “Same goes to you too, mister.”

Sam chuckled as he let you go, and you went to hug Dean as well. He gave you a solid pat on the back and held you firm. “Don’t forget to stock up on some pie for when we get back.”

You pulled away and laughed. “You come back safe and sound, and I'll have one just for you.”

He flashed a wide grin. “You rock.”

Flipping your hair semi-dramatically, you responded with a haughty, “I know.”

The brothers walked over to their respective car doors, leaving just Cas to say farewell to. The two of you said nothing at first, just holding each other's gaze and trying to figure out what to say. Taking a deep breath, you moved in to hug Cas as tight as you could. Cas held you just as firmly, closing his eyes and trying to memorize this feeling, this emotion, before he left. His heart was beating rapidly and he hoped you couldn't feel it jumping out of his chest. You felt like a helium balloon was being inflated in your chest cavity, and filed this moment away in your memories to keep safe. The two of you held each other as if the world didn't exist, and Dean and Sam shared a knowing look from the car, both of them wondering the same thing: will things stay the same, if the mission goes off without a hitch?

Finally pulling back, but not letting go just yet, you looked up into Cas’ blue eyes and said, “I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for on this hunt, Cas, be it revenge or closure or forgiveness, whatever you need most.”

The sides of his mouth turned up slightly, feeling a mixture of comfort at the sentiment and sadness at the context. “Thank you, Y/N. I'll be back soon.”

And with that, the two of you let your arms fall to your sides. Cas picked up his duffle from the ground beside him and walked over to the Impala. The three of them opened their doors and got into the car, and Cas turned to wave out the back window.

“Are you sure about this?” Dean asked carefully as you became a spec in his mirrors.

Cas took a deep breath, and turned forward in the backseat. “Yes.” But his answer didn't hide the tone of fear in his voice.

Castiel stood in his suit, tie, and trench coat, staring at his hands. He flexed them, balled them into fists, turned them over, inspecting every inch. He took a long, deep breath, and let it hiss out slowly. He closed his eyes and let the wind play at his face as he felt the world turn beneath his feet for the first time in ages. Angel radio hummed in his ears, indistinguishable chatter mostly, and he opened the wings invisible to the world, spreading them wide and proud, even if it stung. Castiel was back, whole once more.

“Everything okay, Cas?” Sam asked as he leaned against the car with his brother.

Castiel turned to them and nodded. “Yes, everything is as it should be.”

Dean looked his friend up and down, not sure whether to be happy his friend was back at his prime, or worried that this could mean a factory reset on his humanity and all the things he ever experienced in the last year or so. “Good to have you back, buddy.” He walked over to the trunk and swung it open, grabbing their things. “Let’s head in.”

The sound of the bunker door screeching open made you bolt upright from your couch in the den you had made out of one of the spare bedrooms. Instinct made you want to reach for the gun hidden behind a few books, but once you heard Dean, you leapt up and ran down the hall.

“You got my pie, Y/N?” He shouted from the steps as the three of them descended into the front room.

“In the kitchen!” You yelled in response, practically sliding into the table and chairs, beaming at them. “You made it back!”

“We told you we would!” Sam said, laughing and shaking his head.

Castiel, however, stood mid-way down the steps, jaw slack with awe. He had never seen you as an angel did a human, but what he viewed before him took his breath away. Your soul seemed to shine brighter than any he had ever seen, practically gleaming from your eyes. He had known you were beautiful before, but when he saw the soul within, he knew. The feelings he experienced as a human never changed, they became enhanced with his returned sense of the world through an angel’s eyes. Castiel shook himself out of his trance and continued down the steps.

There was something different about Cas. Not just the new wardrobe, but the air about him just seemed...new, in a sense. Or maybe it was just your relief at seeing him come back in one piece. You didn’t care. He reached the bottom of the stairs and met you halfway, scooping you up in a hug. The material of his trench coat was new but welcoming, and you buried your face in it as he held you close.

“You seem different.” You remarked after a moment, “What’s with the wardrobe change?”

Cas stalled for a moment, as if time froze around him. What do I say? What do I do? Lie? Tell the truth? Run? “I needed it to go undercover and, well, I got used to it I guess.” He stammered. “Do you like it?”

You tilted your head to the side and stepped back out of his arms. You gave him a once over, taking in the suit, the shoes, the trench coat and the tie. It was very unlike the everyday clothes you were used to seeing him in, and it didn’t phase you in the slightest. “I love it, you wear it well, Cas.” His smile was wider than you had ever seen. He was radiating brightness, the room seemed brighter now that he was here. But that couldn’t be possible. Surely it was your imagination. “I guess you found what you were looking for, huh?”

Castiel looked into your eyes, seeing close up the light that sparkled within them from your soul, and felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest, just as it did less than a week before. “I guess I did.”

The both of you held the stare and came to the same simultaneous realization: I have feelings for this person.

The both of you came to the same follow up realization: uh-oh

A few weeks went by and the two of you kept things as they normally were, but with a 80% increase in blushing and 75% increase in gazing at one with the other absolutely oblivious to the action.

And, frankly, Sam and Dean were sick of it.

One night, Sam was fed up--more so than usual--and decided to confront Castiel about his secret. They had just finished a movie marathon and the two of you had cuddled for the entirety of the night, you using Castiel’s trench coat as a blanket and Castiel holding you close, as if that’s where you were meant to be.

The two of you were basically dating, and it was time to make it official, in his opinion.

“So, Cas,” Sam began as they cleared up the mess in the den, “when are you gonna tell Y/N?”

Castiel nearly dropped the half-empty bowl of popcorn and tripped over the coffee table. “I-I-uh- tell Y/N what?”

“Oh, I don’t know, that you’re an angel of the lord, that you have feelings for her...” Sam gave Cas a pointed look that made it plain and clear: he was busted.

“Sam, I can’t-”

“-Don’t hit me with that crap, Cas, you can and you ought to.” Sam sighed and sat down on the sofa chair next to the couch. Cas sat along with him, feeling for a moment like a child about to be lectured by a parent. Sam regained his composure and continued. “Look, first off, you and Y/N are amazing for each other. You click in a way that I have never seen in any couple, ever. You can’t just let that pass you by. But, you also can’t keep lying to her and pretending to be human. You not only risk losing her friendship, but if you keep hiding it during hunts, it could put her in danger.”

Castiel huffed and looked at his hands, sorrow clouding his eyes. “I know. I feel awful for lying for this long, especially now that my grace has been restored. But I’m so...” he almost didn’t want to admit it, “...afraid, Sam. What if she thinks I’m some sort of...freak or monster? She has never dealt with angels before, and she hasn’t heard of my past deeds or mistakes. What if this changes everything?”

Sam pressed his lips together into a thin line. This was a tough set of questions, and the truth was that Sam wasn’t entirely sure how to answer them. But he tried nonetheless. “She knew you when you were nobody. She was friends with you as Steve the gas station employee, she didn’t even get mad when she found out you were in the life and hid it from her. From the year and a half that I’ve known her, Y/N is an understanding person who doesn’t care about all that complicated past crap. She just cares that you are a good person who does what you can to help people.”

That made Castiel smile through his worries. “That is part of what made me fall for her.”

“Now, there is a chance she’ll freak out a tiny bit at the fact that you’re, you know, a godly warrior of heaven and all that.” Sam warned. “But give her time and she’ll be just like normal. You can’t keep lying to her, Castiel. If it comes from anyone other than you, she’ll feel betrayed and never forgive you.”

Castiel sat for a long while, staring at nothing in particular, lost in thought. He needed to come clean, about his past, about his state of being, and about his feelings. All of it terrified him. He shoved it down and away, and gave Sam a strong nod. “You’re right. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

Sam grinned and gave his friend a pat on the back. “Perfect. Don’t back down, okay? Or I’ll do it myself, and that will not be pretty.”

Castiel took a shaky breath and smiled uneasily. This was going to be the longest night of Castiel’s celestial life.

-

“You know, Y/N, if you and Cas want the place to yourselves one night, all you gotta do is ask.” Dean hinted in a knowing voice as the two of you walked down through the bunker and to the wing where the four of you slept.

You slugged him so hard in the shoulder that he actually winced. “Knock it off, Winchester. It isn’t like that.”

He hissed a painful breath, but continued. “Oh, c’mon, you two are crazy about each other! It’s as blatant as the sun rising in the damn sky at ungodly hours of the morning! I’m surprised I haven’t walked in on something at this point.”

Your face burned with discomfort and embarrassment, and you clenched your hands into fists at your sides. “Cas doesn’t like me like that, Dean, he wouldn’t. That is never going to happen. It can’t happen, not between us.”

Dean chuckled and smiled slyly. “Never say never, Y/N. It could start as a simple movie night, and one thing could lead to another and the next thing you know-”

“-I’M ACE!” You shouted in a growl of frustrated anger. The two of you stopped in front of your rooms, you trying to control your rage and Dean trying to comprehend what you just said. Suddenly aware that two other beings could be walking down the hall at any moment, you grumbled and grabbed Dean by the wrist, dragging him into your room and shutting the door.

“Pause, rewind, play: you’re what?” Dean asked, concern and confusion growing as you paced back and forth before him.

You stopped your nervous habit and clapped your hands together. “Okay, this might be difficult for you to understand. I’m going to take this slow, and if you are confused, say so, okay?”

“Okay.” He said with a firm nod. “Fire away.”

“Sexual attraction is when you feel a want to do...things...with a person.”

Dean gave you a perplexed look, but answered. “Yes...”

“For a lot of people, that’s an everyday thing. That’s normal. They don’t give it a second thought. It’s like when you ask someone who their celebrity crush is, and they respond with someone they want to...do stuff with.”

“But with you...”

You wrung your hands together and bit your lip. “For me...that’s not really...a thing...”

Dean blinked for a moment, then walked over to your bed and sat at the edge, putting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “Okay, elaborate.”

“There is this spectrum of people called asexual. Asexuality is where you don’t feel sexual attraction to anyone, like at all.” You repeated carefully. You memorized it long ago.

“So if you see a hot guy, you don’t immediately want to get in his pants?” Dean asked, a bit of shock in his voice.

Your face burned a little. “Yeah, something like that. It’s lack of attraction, and it’s different for everyone. Some people are sex positive and ace, some people are sex repulsed and ace. The only thing that matters is the lack of sexual attraction, kind of like if I see you as a brother, that’s a lack of romantic attraction towards you. Anyway, there is this subgroup under asexual, called demisexual. That is actually what I identify as, but since it’s under the umbrella of ace, sometimes it’s easier to use ace.”

“So what does that second one mean? Demisexual?”

“Demisexuality is when you feel sexual attraction when you have a strong emotional bond with the person. Again, it’s different for everyone. For me, I need to know the person for a while, be comfortable with them and have a strong emotional bond to even consider any of...that.” You ran your hands through your hair as you spoke. “Even then, the sexual attraction is only towards that one person, and it takes being in a relationship for a bit of time to form that, if it forms at all.”

Dean felt as if a lightbulb had lit up over his head. “You think because you don’t want sex in the way that most people do, Cas won’t want to be in a relationship with you?”

You hugged your arms around yourself and nodded solemnly. “I know relationships are more than just sex, but for a lot of the people I’ve met and had an interest in, that’s been a deal breaker. They try to seduce me regardless and the more they try, the more it doesn’t work, and I’m worried Cas will see me like they did, like a freak or something. I like Cas a lot, Dean. I care about him so much, as a person and a friend, and I really want to see if a relationship would work. But he’s a human guy, and I’m terrified I’ll lose him as a friend if things go wrong.”

Dean took a good, long, hard look at you, and for once, he tried to think of his life without the countless one night stands. He tried to imagine looking at everyone and not feeling that attraction, as if they were simply people, and not sexual objects, even if they were appealing to the eye. It was a hard thing for him to do. Then he imagined living like that all his life thinking that was normal, but being told by friends, by romantic interests, and by society, that it was wrong to be that way, that is was unnatural, that he was broken or a freak. That was...unimaginably difficult. Then he imagined having all of that nagging in the back of his mind as he looked at someone he really wanted to be in a relationship with, someone he wanted to spend his life with, growing and learning together, and being petrified with terror that the very person they hold dear could turn around and say the very same things.

“That...” Dean shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Y/N, I can’t even begin to understand what you must go through. Not completely, anyway, because I can’t know a life I’ve never lived. But I can empathize with you, and what you described sounds like hell. Just because you don’t feel a type of attraction that other people do, that doesn’t make you a freak or broken or anything, understand?” He was giving you an ernest look, as if he wanted to wipe away the past with his affirmations now, but knew it wasn’t that simple. “But Cas...he’s not a normal human guy. In all my time with him, he has never been like that towards anyone. In fact, the one time I took him to a strip club, it failed miserably.” Dean chuckled at the memory. “My point is that Cas is not going to care about that. Okay, wait, he’ll care in the sense that it’s not a deal breaker to him, and whatever you want or don’t want to do is fine by him. Cas is a good listener, he’ll understand, and he’ll be respectful on top of being his kind, dorky, protective self.”

A smile broke through the anxiety and fear that was churning within you. “Yeah, he is pretty dorky and protective, huh? That’s part of why I like him.”

Dean smiled gently as you began to relax a little. “I meant what I said, by the way. None of that makes you any of the things you’ve been told in the past. Y/N, you are an awesome person and a kick-ass hunter, and your attraction of the sexual nature--or lack thereof--doesn’t change any of that.” You couldn’t stop the water that welled up in your eyes as you brought a hand up to hide the slight quiver to your lips. “Oh, come here.” Dean stood up and ushered you over, giving you a big bear hug and letting the emotions pass. Normally he wasn’t one for chick-flick moments, but he was okay if it meant his friend felt better.

“Thank you, Dean.” You whispered into his shoulder. “I needed that.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. If anyone ever gives you hell about that again, I will beat their ass into next Tuesday.”

You gave him a slightly touched, yet slightly offended look. “One, we’re within a year in age difference, so don't call me kid. Two, I can beat some ass fairly well on my own, thank you very much.”

Dean rolled his eyes mockingly. “Fine. But I’m whooping everyone from your past that gave you hell, deal?”

“Deal.”

Dean chuckled and made his way to the door, but before he opened it, he turned and said, “Promise me you’ll ask Cas out tomorrow, and tell him about all that? It’s better to discuss that ahead of time as opposed to later down the road.”

You took a deep, cleansing breath. “Okay, I will.”

Dean cracked a grin. “Night Y/N. Sleep well.”

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and flopped onto your bed. This was going to be the longest night of your life.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Cas asked the next morning, handing you your coffee exactly the way you liked it.

“Well, thank you.” You responded, sipping your coffee and hoping it would calm the churning within your gut. “Thanks again for letting me steal your coat the other night.”

Castiel chuckled to himself and fiddled with the coffee cup in front of him. He didn’t need coffee anymore, since becoming an angel once more, but he kept it up for appearances. “You can steal my coat anytime.”

Crimson spread over your cheeks and you looked down at the table. “Noted.”

Silence stretched thick between the two of you, both having something to say and neither having the guts to say it. Sam and Dean came in a few minutes later and rekindled the awkward conversation. Dean read articles in the paper while Sam scoured the internet for new cases. They threw options back and forth at each other while you got up to start breakfast, and it took a good 5 minutes for the both of them to realize that something had changed.

Dean looked at you, keeping you back turned to the group, busying yourself with your cooking. Sam looked at Castiel, hyperfocused on the half-empty coffee cup on the table before him, not looking at anyone or anything other than that.

Dean and Sam shared a look of complete hopelessness, and then got to work.

Sam scooted his chair closer to Cas’ spot at the table. “Have you told her?” He whispered, shooting a glance at you and Dean.

“No.” Cas whispered back.

“Cas! You said you would!”

He scowled at Sam. “I can’t just look at Y/N and say, ‘My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the Lord’, it isn’t that simple.”

“Yes it is!” Sam protested is a slightly louder and more frustrated whisper. “That is literally what you did to Dean and Bobby!”

“And that got me shot and stabbed!”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it in exasperation. He wasn’t wrong there. Sam ran a hand over his face. “You are impossible.” He grumbled.

Dean stood next to you at the stove, handing you ingredients as you needed them. “So, did ya spill yet?”

“No.”

“Y/N!” Dean chided. “We talked about this!”

“It’s not something I can just blurt out with no sort of warning or explanation!”

“That’s exactly what you did to me!”

“Yeah! And it took an extremely long and in depth conversation before you actually understood what I was telling you! It will be even more difficult to explain it to Cas and follow it up with, ‘but I like you so are you still willing to date me?’ That can’t just be dropped like it’s nothing!”

Dean clenched his jaw and sighed hard through his nose as he passed the pepper for the eggs. “You are impossible.”

Dean and Sam both walked over to the doorway of the kitchen, a scheming look in their eyes.

“Y/N won’t say anything?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “Cas either, apparently?”

Sam sighed and let his shoulders drop. “It’s hopeless, he’s too scared of what she’ll think of his angelic background and all the things that entails.”

“And Y/N is afraid of what Cas will think of her when she tells him she’s ace.”

Sam furrowed his brow. “Y/N is ace?”

“Yup. Demisexual, specifically.”

Sam looked over at you and nodded. “That actually doesn’t surprise me.”

“Wait, you know what that is?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

He simply nodded once. “Yeah. I scour the web constantly. You read up on things that way.”

Dean blinked a few times, but dismissed any questions he may have had. “How are we gonna get them to confess?”

Sam shrugged. “We tried being subtle and giving them a nudge in the right direction...”

Dean pondered the options for a moment. “...I guess we need to be obvious and give ‘em a shove instead?”

Sam pursed his lips. “I don’t have a better plan.”

Dean strode over to the stove, where you were portioning out the scrambled eggs, and took the spatula from your hand. “Hey!” You exclaimed as he grabbed your wrist and walked you out of the kitchen. “What the hell are you doing, Winchester?”

“Helping.” He stated, no other explanation given.

Sam, simultaneously, took Castiel by the shoulder and hauled him out of his chair, following behind you and Dean. Castiel struggled under his grip, “Sam! Unhand me!” He demanded.

“Nope. I gave you the chance, now we do this the hard way.”

They marched the two of you through the bunker and into the den, closing and locking the door behind you. “You can come out when you’ve both spilled the beans!” Dean shouted.

Castiel balled his hands into fists and contemplated smiting both of the brothers from here. He refrained as you ran up to the door and began pounding on the sturdy oak.

“Let us out, you assholes!” You roared through the door. “You can’t keep us here like prisoners!”

“Wanna bet?” You heard Sam tease. The anger in you flared again and it summoned a new bout of attacks.

Castiel watched with turmoil in his mind and his heart. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Tell you the truth or be stuck in there for as long as Sam and Dean deem worthy. Knowing them, they wouldn’t be relenting anytime soon.

The rage you felt had a short half-life, and began to diminish as rapidly as it had began. Your fistfalls slowed and softened to taps, and finally your hands stilled. This was hopeless. The boys were more stubborn than a room full of oxes. They wanted an outcome and they were gonna get it, no matter the means.

The both of you seemed to accept your fate at the same time. Turning to face Cas, you took a deep breath and said, in unison, “There’s something I need to tell you.” It caused both of you to laugh nervously.

“You first.” Cas insisted.

“No, it’s okay, you first.” You assured him.

He smiled, noticing for the millionth time how endearing you were. “Same time then?”

You bit your lip, terror rising up in your gut. “Okay. On three.”

“One.” Cas began.

“Two.” You continued.

In a jumble of rushed words, the both of you spoke. “I’m an angel of the Lord.” “I’m demisexual.”

Cas tilted his head. “What?”

You blinked at him, mind spinning. “I’m sorry, repeat that please?”

Cas took a hesitant step towards you, speaking slowly and clearly. “My full name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the lord.”

Still blinking, you let your mind process. “Angels...are a thing? And you...are one?”

Castiel could only nod his affirmation.

“How long...I thought you were human...I’ve stitched you up, and it took weeks to heal...I don’t understand...” Confusion began to cloud in your eyes and you ran a hand through your hair.

“I lost my grace--what makes an angel, an angel--before I came to work at the Gas n’ Sip. It was stolen from me by someone I trusted. I thought we were going to help with our plan, but I was wrong and manipulated into serving an ulterior motive. When I met you, I was human. When we first met up with Sam and Dean, I was human then too. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago, we got that lead, and-”

“-You came back an angel.” It slipped out as the gears in your head began smoking. “The wardrobe change, the lights shining brighter, the new air about you...you had restored your grace.”

“Exactly. I no longer need to eat or sleep, I heal myself and heal others, I see and hear things most mortals can’t perceive.”

You stood on your tiptoes to look behind Castiel. “I don't see any wings. And how in the hell are you as young as you are, if you’re an angel? How are you even here?”

“This is a vessel I am occupying. Years ago I took residence in this form to meet Dean and assist him in fighting a very large evil. He died a long time ago, his soul is peacefully residing in heaven. It’s just me now. My real form will blind you if you ever lay eyes on it, and my wings are not visible to humans unless I allow them to be, and even then it is a mere shadow.”

You hugged your arms around yourself, mind reeling. All this time, he’s been an angel, or a fallen one at that, and he never told me? “Prove it.”

Castiel pressed his lips together into a thin line, picking up on the hurt in your voice. Without a word, he bowed his head and closed his eyes, lifting his wings and spreading them to be seen. The lights flickered and you swore you heard thunder rumble softly as the outline of large, black wings appeared on the back wall. An instinctive gasp left your mouth and you threw up a hand to cover it, taking a reflexive step back.

Castiel snapped his head up and the lights returned to normal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He explained apologetically, taking a step towards you. “I won’t hurt you.”

You looked him over, noting the expression of guilt and pain on his face and the half outstretched arms, not sure whether to comfort or refrain. He looked the same as ever, but deep inside you, it was like the wool was lifted from your eyes. The knowledge, the lack of experience with firearms, the fierce protectiveness, the peculiarity that had been there since he introduced himself to you as Steve--it was due to being a whole different being other than human. Something that existed long before and would be around long after the human race. Something with unfathomable power, both to repair and destroy. A being that wore a trench coat and liked movies with a happy ending.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly.

The sorrow on his face grew as he hung his head in shame. “I hated lying to you, but at the time we met, I was human with no hope of ever returning to my former state. When we joined up with Sam and Dean, I wanted to spare you the details of my past mistakes, the complications of the life that even the brothers were avoiding. When I regained my grace, I...” He let out a harsh breath and shook his head. “No, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to see me as a monster or freak after knowing me to be human for so long. I didn’t want this to change anything, and I was so afraid you would see me and see the awful things my brethren have done that I just...couldn’t say otherwise.”

A sad smile slowly spread across your face. “Castiel,” You began, trying his true name on for size, “I understand why you hid this from me, but I promise you that I will never see you as a monster. I don’t care what you have done, or what the other angels have done. I have seen nothing but a good heart and good intentions and the perseverance to see them both through since the day I met you, be it with something as small as refilling the slushie machine to keeping your friends safe from werewolves. The angel thing is gonna take some getting used to, I’ll admit that, but to me, it’s just another thing I’m learning about you.”

Castiel could have fallen to his knees from the weight being lifted from his shoulders. His smile of relief was wide and the lights in the room seemed, once again, to shine brighter along with it. “Thank you, Y/N. I promise, I will tell you anything you wish to know from this point onward.”

You mirrored his grin. “I will keep that in mind.” Realizing it was your turn to spill the beans, you absentmindedly scraped at the floor with your shoe. “I, uh, guess it’s my turn to explain, huh?”

“If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to-”

“-I have to, Castiel, it’s important.” You insisted, cutting off his well-meaning words. It was now or never, so you spit it out as fast as you could. “I am demisexual. I don’t feel sexual attraction unless I have a strong emotional bond with the person, and I’ve known them for awhile, and I’ve been in a relationship with them for some time, and even then there is a chance that I don’t feel the attraction at all. I didn’t want to tell you because for a while it wasn’t important, but I really like you, Cas. I like you and I want to be more than friends, but I was so terrified you were-” You laughed in spite of yourself, “-like every human guy I’ve met and would see me as a freak or broken when I explained. I didn’t want this to change anything.”

Castiel took a few slow, steady steps towards you, and wrapped you in to a hug. One hand rubbed your back and the other smoothed over your hair and you held him tight. “Nothing would ever make me think, even for the most fleeting of moments, that you are broken, Y/N.” He said gently. “Being an angel, I don’t function the same way that humans do. I don’t care about any of that. What I care about is you being happy and feeling like you are loved. And even as a human, I felt the same way. Does that make me broken?”

You pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Then why should you think that of yourself?”

You were speechless. Castiel was looking at you like you were the brightest star in the sky, and it dawned on you that he gave you that look all the time. “So, are you saying...you like me too?”

“Yes, Y/N, I like you very much. I have for a while, but it took me some time to realize what it was. Human emotions...I’m still learning about them. My time as a mortal gave me some insight that stayed with me when I regained my grace. I needed to tell you the truth about who I was before I could ask you if you would like to...what’s the phrase...be my girlfriend?”

Your head moved before your words could escape with them. “I’d love to, Castiel. I would absolutely love to.”

Castiel felt his heart swell in his chest. Overjoyed, he placed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you back into an embrace. You held him tight in return, feeling accepted and loved and happier than you had ever felt in your life.

Castiel pulled back suddenly, concern etched in his features. “Wait, was that okay?”

You cocked your head to the side. “What, the forehead kiss? Yeah, Cas, that was fine. I don’t mind that.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I want you to tell me if anything ever makes you uncomfortable, okay? Promise me you’ll communicate that with me? I don’t want to push you in any way, accidentally or otherwise.”

“I promise, Castiel. It means the world to me to hear you say that.”

He tucked a stray hair behind your ear and looked into your eyes, shimmering from the radiance of your soul. “I’d give you the world if I could, Y/N, but for now, I can get you something better. What do you want to eat along with the movies we are about to watch?”

A puzzled look spread over your face, but you couldn’t help the grin that threatened to break through. “Pizza?”

Castiel stepped back from you a few paces. “Wise choice.” Before your very eyes, Castiel disappeared and a ruffling noise filled the room. Before you could freak out, with another blink of your eyes, he returned with a pizza in one hand and two sodas in the other. “Cherry or Grape?”

“Cherry.” You answered in awe. “What...how did you...you can teleport?”

Castiel set the food and sodas on the coffee table and removed his trench coat, walking back over to you and draping it over your shoulders. “Something like that. Now, shall we take advantage of the fact that we now have the den to ourselves? I believe we have a few movies to cross off my list.”

Pushing yourself up by your tiptoes, you placed a quick kiss on Castiel’s lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Rex

Rex doesn’t really understand what you’re so upset about when you first tell him.

To him it sounds much easier, less strings attached.

There were a few times Rex had questioned if he was part of the few experimental batches that had been genetically sterilized.

He’d heard rumours about their lack of sex drive, but he’d also heard that a hormonal imbalance, as a result, made them less effective in battle and that the Kaminoans had decided to discontinue that strain.

Looking at his other batch mates he wasn’t really sure that described him.

So when you explained the whole thing to him he couldn’t help but feel relief.

He’d felt attraction before, but very rarely and hardly ever to the extent that it seemed to make many of his brothers act.

The idea of the hookups and one night stands he heard them talk about made him squirm a little and he’d always kind of wondered if there was something wrong with him. If he had some kind of mutation.

But hearing you talk about it more he couldn’t help but feel understood and he couldn’t help but love you more for it.

He wasn’t necessarily the best at telling you that.

He wasn’t the best at talking about or understanding any of this but when he hugged you afterwards you could feel the affection and relief pouring off of him.

You knew.

Fives

Is a little shit. You should’ve known better than to expect him to take this seriously

Of course, his first reaction is to make a joke because that’s how he deals with emotional vulnerability

“Ah don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll just go to [insert clone brothel name] next time I’m on leave”

That earns him a massive punch to the arm

“Ow! Hey, I was kidding!!! It was a joke! Don’t worry- shhh, stop trying to hit me! I’m trying to be serious here- Ow! You’re stronger than you look, you know?”

Finally manages to wrangle you into a hug which is really more along the lines of a very gentle restraint hold long enough to assure you that there is absolutely no obligation for sex, he’s just happy to get the opportunity to love you

In that sense he’s fairly certain he’s the luckiest clone in the GAR

Echo saw the whole thing unfold from a distance and is over there in an instant just cause he’ll take any excuse to tackle Fives

“What’d he do this time? I’ll put him in his place for you!”

Boil

Pretends he knows what you mean but really doesn’t have a clue

Nods along attentively and is really confused when you ask him “so you’re not disappointed?”

“Disappointed? Uh… no?” (has no idea what he just said)

Runs off to find answers the moment the conversation comes to a close because he’s beginning to realize how concerned you are about this

Tries Wooley first but he’s clueless

Then Waxer has a little more of a guess but really is just as hopeless

Finally, he gets a hold of a datapad and looks it up

Feels like a di’kut the moment he reads the definition because he must have come off so unphased for something so personal

Runs back to find you all panicked like “Wait! Wait! I’m sorry, it’s fine, don’t worry about me, I’m not disappointed at all!”

“I thought you already said that.”

He explains the whole “miscommunication”, gives you a big hug that he’s gotten more used to doing in recent years and tells you he loves you no matter what.

Waxer

Coming out to Waxer didn’t go great

It had nothing to do with the content of the message! He was more than fine with it once you told him

But the way you went about it caused a bit of a commotion

You’d gotten so in your head about what he’d think that you wound up stumbling over your words for ages trying to figure out how to phrase it and managed to use a few terms he’d been warned both by the guys and in the tacky holos they got their hands on, didn’t bode well for relationships

“Now don’t freak out––it has nothing to do with you… well it does, a fair bit I guess but really it's me and I don’t want anything to change between us but-”

Before you know it he’s wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head and- is he crying?

You finally realize what it must have sounded like and actually manage to let out a laugh

“Waxer, no I’m not trying to break up with you!”

“Then what are you doing?!” He sniffs, still clinging to you like his life depends on it

“I’m trying to tell you I’m asexual.” You finally get out

You’re just about to explain what that means when his arms drop and he straightens up

“Oh. That’s it?”

“That’s it.” You assure him “You’re okay with that?” The nervousness from before creeps back in

He’s hugging you again, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck where he’s buried his face

“As long as I get to hold you in my arms, I’m okay with anything”

His grip loosens for a fraction of a second

“We still get to cuddle right?” He asks

A smile splits across your face

“Of course,” you say, pulling him back into you

Waxer really was the best at cuddling

Silence overwhelms the small stakeout vehicle when you tell him.

He doesn’t get it.

“Oh.”

The disappointment that pours off of him is palpable.

This really wasn’t the reaction he was expecting to the heartfelt confession he had mustered up the courage for only moments ago.

“Javi,” You sigh, “It’s not like that. It’s not personal. I don’t feel attracted to anyone that way.” You reiterate but he still seems convinced that this is just an elaborate attempt to spare his feelings.

“You don’t have to do that, you know? You don’t have to let me down easy.”

“That’s not what this is. I really just don’t operate that way.”

You had seen the girls coming and going from his apartment across the hall. You knew how he chose to blow off steam after stressful days at work and you knew you couldn’t keep up with that.

“I don’t think I can be there for you like you want me to.”

It takes a moment for it to dawn on him what you mean and you think he finally takes the hint when another ‘oh’ escapes him.

“I don’t need-“ He starts up but cuts himself off when you give him a pointed look.

“I really, really wanted this to work.” He says after what feels like hours of you discussing all the reasons you would wind up resenting each other if you went down that path. All the fears you had of starting something up with him.

“Me too.” You hum solemnly when you deflate to lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He’s quick to shake his head and whisper a quiet “Don’t apologize.” When he wraps an arm around you and places a kiss to the top of your head.

You both walk away from that stakeout with heavy hearts but lighter shoulders and although it takes some time to heal you learn to show how much you care about each other in different ways.

Now he slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re getting unwanted attention on a night out.

You stay up drinking with him so he doesn’t have to brood alone after a particularly tiring day.

Soft touches and reassuring words come easier between you two.

Most importantly you’re both happy and you haven’t lost each other.

Marcus Pike

Marcus is a little less clueless.

He knows Asexuality exists and has a vague sense of what it is, he just doesn’t know a whole lot about it.

There’s not much pressure when you tell him.

It comes as a bit of a disclaimer early in your relationship and you try not to make a big deal of it. You just want to make sure that he’s aware as your relationship progresses.

Marcus, ever the sweet and compassionate boyfriend is attentive and understanding as you speak.

The words that seem to stick out in his mind come at the only point when the slightest bit of doubt weens it’s way into your voice, “I just wanted to make sure that that’s- that I’m enough for you.”

His heart stops and he’s overcome by a feeling of both shock and sorrow that you could ever think such a thing of yourself.

“Of course. Of course, you’re enough.”

“You’re more than enough. You’re… you’re everything.”

What you don’t see is the way that after this conversation he finds himself wracking up more and more questions that he’s too scared to ask you. Not because he’s afraid of the answer but because he doesn’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable.

So naturally, he turns to the next best thing.

The internet.

What he fails to realize is how broad a spectrum of asexuality there is and all he gets is more and more confused.

Marcus accidentally develops a following on Aspec Reddit forums for trying to ask people questions and them all just going “aww, Hun” at this poor clueless bean and swooning over how much he cares about you.

Despite the enthusiasm and volume of their responses, they don’t really add much clarity beyond “Hey, maybe you should ask your SO”

Instead, he runs around treating you like glass while he tries to buck up the courage to actually talk to you about it until on a movie night as he awkwardly tries to contort himself around you so he’s cuddling you… without touching you, you finally snap.

“Marcus! What is going on?”

That’s when he finally and rather sheepishly admits that he wants you to tell him more about your sexuality.

“Oh.”

You pause the movie and give him your full attention as you try and talk him through as much as you’re able to explain until suddenly you’re stuck for an answer and you look up at him with rather watery eyes as you admit you have no idea and suddenly you’re the one having the existential crisis.

“Oh, oh no. It’s alright, we can figure it out together! Shhh, it’s all fine. Please don’t cry! Reddit didn’t tell me this would happen!”

“Who-ddit?”

Din Djarin

Coming out to Din is rather anticlimactic.

He doesn’t have much to say beyond “Okay.”

You’re a little confused at first.

That went… too well.

It’s a while later when he brings it up again that you begin to realize why.

There’s no hesitation or taboo, he’s quite straight forward when he asks why you were so nervous.

At first, you’re not so sure what to say. Wasn’t that kind of obvious?

“Not everyone takes it so well.” You shrug thinking back to past relationships where your partners seemed to expect you to give them more than you were willing to.

You could practically see the gears turning behind his visor and it’s only now that you connect the dots and his reaction from before seems to add up.

To him, that was the norm.

It makes sense the more you think about it.

In all the time you had spent travelling with him, all the objectively beautiful women, men and everyone else in between that had crossed your paths, all the slurs that had been thrown at him by drunkards in cantinas about how he fucks with all that armour on, all the rather compromising situations you had found yourself in with him before and you had never caught his gaze wander or heard him express any indication of interest in yourself or anyone in that way.

You had always put it down to his creed. As far as you were aware such things were forbidden for people of his faith but you’re left with an odd sense of comfort as you realized that wasn’t the case.

Perhaps this was his strange little way of letting you know you weren’t alone.

Ezra

When you met Ezra you were prepared for the worst.

A guy as cocky and loquacious as him and you just trying to keep your head down in the busy bar and enjoy your drink in peace after a rough day.

You didn’t have high hopes when he swung into the booth across from you and started down whatever elaborate story he had decided would impress you enough to get you into bed.

“It’s my missing appendage, isn’t it?” he asks when you quite clearly don’t bite.

He’s already moving to leave you be when your eyebrows knit together in confusion and your eyes blow wide as you’re hit with a sudden wave of guilt.

You had grown used to deflecting advances like this but something about the way he said it, the bold, charismatic man suddenly looking like a kicked puppy made your guts churn.

You didn’t normally give an explanation, you didn’t feel you owed anyone that, especially not a stranger and yet here you were.

“What? No! No, I actually think you’re very good looking and charming and all those things people look for in a partner, I’m just not particularly one for casual hookups.” You say looking around the room where you now felt wildly out of place with just about all of its inhabitants presumably looking to get laid or trying to forget someone they couldn’t do so with.

“...Or any hookups really.” You correct yourself and watch as the disappointed look on his face morphs into a glint of curiosity.

“You a uh- a spade?” He asks resettling into the booth, an oblivious smile settling on his cheeks when you laugh at him.

You spend until last-call deeply enthralled in conversation and comforted by one another’s company.

That’s all either of you were here for in the first place, to feel a little less lonely.

You’re only pried apart by the closing of the bar, the nag of sleep hot on your heels and the promise that this wouldn’t be the last you saw of each other.

Frankie Morales

Frankie knew you were asexual.

You had told him before, he just didn’t entirely understand what that meant until much later on.

He seemed familiar with the term but his knowledge of the concept didn’t seem to extend beyond a basic definition.

Frankie’s first wife was his first for a lot of things. First girlfriend, first kiss, first love, first lover, first breakup.

He took the divorce pretty hard, as anyone would.

They’d gotten married so young, before he was deployed, that the guys had never seen him single before and neither had he really.

It took a long time for him to recover and by then he was content. ‘not in a particularly big rush to start down the relationship path and get hurt again’ is how he had phrased it to you once in confidence.

But another factor that he failed to recognize fully at the time was that he just hadn’t found anyone he was interested in in that way.

He’d tried going on a couple of dates but none of them clicked and it just left him feeling more alone.

It was after Tom died, almost five years after his divorce that the guys finally called him on it.

At first they just assumed the way he had been acting was about Tom and in a sense it was, Tom was the only one who had been through a divorce before, he was the only one who really understood and talked him through it when the going got tough.

Will was the one to put the pieces together and realize that the issue wasn’t Tom so much as Frankie getting more and more tired of being on his own.

His intentions were well meaning. They were just trying to help.

All they wanted was to see him happy but the more the boys seemed to try and set him up, the more resistance they were met with and even Frankie couldn’t figure out why until he was sat, venting to you about it one night.

“How did you know you were ace?” He blurts out suddenly and you’re a little lost for words, you weren’t really expecting this conversation to go this way but it was obviously something he had been considering for a while.

“Sorry that wasn’t a fair question,” He says when he notices you’re struggling, “I just- they keep trying to set me up with, who I’m sure are some really great people, but it’s all on this little tiny screen and all you see are a couple photos and maybe a blurb if you’re lucky and there’s just no…”

“Connection?” You suggest. Those big puppy eyes shoot up to you from where they were fixed on the counter in front of him and he gives you a slight nod.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He sighs and your heart breaks a little looking at him like that before you round the counter and pull him into a hug. “I’ve felt attraction before but I look at the guys and it feels like it takes so much more for me to get to that point than them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” You assure him gently, brushing your fingers through his hair when you pull away to give him a reassuring smile. “Sounds like you could be on the asexuality spectrum.”

“There’s a spectrum?”

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