Title: Teenage Insecurities
Author: The Fallen Sky
Rating: M just to be safe
Pairing: Kick-Ass(Dave)/Hit Girl(Mindy)
Summary: She hates having doubts and insecurities, but it's par for the course when you're a teenager, even if you're Hit Girl.
Warning: None
A/N: This is an AU story told from Mindy's POV. It's the sequel to my story, Ruminations of a Teenage Boy. You should probably read that story first to better understand what's going on in this story.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!
What does he see in me?
She's been asking herself that a lot lately, and she hates it.
She hates that she cares enough to even ask that question, hates that the answer to that question matters so much to her, hates that it matters at all.
Things like this, stupid teenage girl shit, never mattered to her before. All that mattered to her was her Daddy's approval and The Mission and being the best superhero she could be, winning every fight, killing the bad guys and saving the day.
All those things still matter to her, but what matters most to her is Dave, what he thinks of her and how he feels about her.
What's really stupid is that she's questioning Dave's feelings for her, his reason for being with her.
He loves her.
She knows he loves her.
She's pretty sure he loves her.
She hopes he loves her.
He loves her.
She can see it in his eyes every time he looks at her. She can hear it in his voice every time he says her name. She can taste it on his lips every time he kisses her. She can feel it every time he touches her, when he holds her hand, when he brushes a stray strand of hair off her forehead, when he traces the curve of her cheek with his fingertips.
She's absolutely pretty sure that he loves her.
And yet...
And yet she can't help but wonder why.
Certainly, she's got some very good qualities. She's smart, tough, strong, outgoing, driven, passionate, independent, brave and a bunch of other things superheroes are supposed to be. She also likes to think she's pretty funny. She's able to make him laugh, at least, which is a definite plus in her book.
Her personality isn't really what has her questioning things, though. Obviously, if he didn't like her, he wouldn't be friends with her, and he certainly wouldn't be fucking her. Then again, most teenage boys will fuck anything with tits and a pussy, so maybe that's not the best measure of whether or not he likes her. Still, she knows Dave, and he's not like all the other boys. He would never risk their friendship just for sex, and he certainly wouldn't risk her wrath for some pussy.
The real issue she has is why he chose her over Katie.
No matter how hard she tries, she can't think of a good reason why he'd choose her over Katie, and it's driving her nuts.
Granted, she's never liked Katie, so she's not able to look at things with complete objectivity, but she's not blind or stupid, either. She knows Katie is pretty, and, to some people, Katie is also really nice and completely normal.
Maybe that's it. Maybe she's freaking out because she isn't normal.
But...that can't be it. Dave knew she wasn't normal from the first moment he saw her slice up Rasul and his thugs and all the while with a huge smile on her face.
No, Dave doesn't care that she's not normal. In fact, she's pretty sure he likes that she's not normal. Hell, it's probably what drew him to her in the first place.
Then maybe...
She feels embarrassed and ashamed and stupid for even thinking it, but maybe she's afraid that she's just not that pretty.
Her looks have never been a source of concern before. Sure, she likes to look her best, but who doesn't? Still, it never mattered if anyone thought she was pretty before. It didn't even matter to her, because she had no reason to even think about it before. Now, though...
She's constantly wondering if Dave will like the way she looks in certain outfits and has been spending more and more time agonizing over what to wear as a result. She even started buying frilly lingerie, simply because she thinks he'll find it sexy. So far, she hasn't noticed any change in his reaction when she strips down to her underwear. He loves seeing her in lacy black panties and a push-up bra as much as he loves seeing her in a sports bra and her Hello Kitty panties.
Of course, maybe he's more concerned about what's gonna happen when the underwear comes off than about the underwear itself and how she looks in it.
So, maybe that means Dave thinks she's pretty, after all. Then again, he could just be excited by the prospect of sex.
She hates all this doubt that's crept into her head.
Still, she can't help but doubt, and it's all his fault. If he had just dumped Katie's skanky ass, she wouldn't be questioning everything. But, as he explained, if he just dumped Katie out of the blue, she'd get suspicious as to why, and that could lead her to suspect that he's seeing someone else, which he is, and if Katie found out exactly who he's seeing, both of them could get into a lot of trouble.
It made perfect sense at the time, and it still does on some level. After all, he's 18 and legally an adult, but she's only 13. If people found out, Dave could go to jail, and she's not willing to risk that, even if it would alleviate all this doubt that's fucking up her head.
So, she's left to stew in her self-doubt, forced to pretend that she and Dave aren't a couple, forced to watch him act like Katie's boyfriend, hold her hand, kiss her and fu-
She has to stop that thought, because she feels a sharp pain in the center of her chest, feels like someone punched her in the gut and knocked the wind out of her.
She's okay with Dave playing the role of Katie's boyfriend in public, mostly. She always feels the sting of jealousy when she catches a glimpse of Dave doing something boyfriend-y with Katie. The hand-holding is okay, but every time she sees Dave kissing Katie, she has to fight the urge to grab Katie by the hair and punch her in the face. So far, she's managed to keep it together, but it's getting more and more difficult the longer she and Dave are together.
It's the times when Dave and Katie are alone together, outside of school, that she worries about. To his credit, he's cut down that alone time significantly, but it still happens. And when it does, she's left worrying and wondering what they're doing, if he's playing with Katie's tits, sucking on her nipples, if he's fingering Katie's pussy or going down on her, if Katie is sucking his dick, if he's fucking Katie.
It makes her sick and sad and angry and depressed. But, he always comes to her after his "dates" with Katie, and he assures her that nothing happened, and as much as she doesn't want to, she always believes him. And in her relief, she always ends up initiating sex, and he's always an enthusiastic participant.
When the sex is over, she always wraps herself around him, trying to get as close to him as possible, like she's marking him, claiming her territory. In her weaker moments, she wonders if Katie can smell her on him, if Katie somehow knows that he's been fucking another woman. Sometimes, she likes to imagine Katie's face, the stupid ass look she'd have if she found out the truth, that a 13 year old stole her man.
Still, for as much fun as it is to picture Katie's pain and humiliation, she can't seem to shake the nagging doubt that continues to plague her. She hopes that the doubt will disappear for good once Dave makes it official and dumps Katie, but she has a feeling it won't be that simple or easy.
She's so frustrated by her doubt and insecurity, her constant worry and fear that she's not good enough, that Dave is just going through a phase, that he'll wake up one day and realize that he'd rather just be her friend than her boyfriend, and it makes her want to scream and cry and kill someone.
To her shame, she's even taken to comparing herself to Katie, physically, in an attempt to figure out why she's so freaked out about this whole thing. Not long ago, she just happened to be at the gym where Katie works out and just happened to be in the locker room at the same time as Katie and just happened to see her naked.
And now she's in her bedroom, standing in front of the floor length mirror, completely naked, and measuring herself against Katie.
Fuck, she's pathetic.
Katie is tall. Katie's legs are long and shapely, and they're smooth and tan, the skin seeming to glow. Katie's ass and hips are round and full, very feminine. Katie's pussy is shaved or waxed or whatever the hell girls do that results in it being completely hairless. Katie's stomach is kind of unremarkable. Sure, it's flat and tanned, but that's it. Katie's tits are big, not gigantic but more than a mouth or handful, and they're real, nicely shaped with perfectly placed, dusky rose-colored nipples. Basically, they're perfect. Katie's face is perfect, like supermodel perfect, with perfect bone structure, perfect nose, full, pouty lips and blue eyes that are both sultry and sweet. Katie's hair is pretty luxurious, like the finest silk, dark and shiny, long and wavy.
Basically, Katie is gorgeous, a prime piece of ass.
She isn't tall. Her legs are short, kinda skinny but very toned, and they aren't so smooth, mostly because she hasn't really gotten the hang of shaving them yet, so she's often got little nicks and cuts, but she also tends to have bruises from either training or patrolling, and her skin most certainly does not glow. If anything, her skin is pale and kind of unremarkable. Her hips and ass are small, less feminine and more boy-ish. Sure, her ass is firm and tight, but she really wishes she had a little more junk in her trunk, a little more sway in her sashay. Her pussy isn't hairless. In fact, it's almost completely covered by untamed blonde curls. She's never understood why some girls feel like they have to shave down there, never understood the appeal of looking like a little girl below the waist. Her stomach is also flat, but it's toned to the point where her muscles are visible when she exerts them. She's extremely proud of her six-pack. She worked hard for it, and having a strong core is important in her line of work. Her tits are on the small side, definitely less than a mouth or handful. Obviously, they're real, but she thinks they look like two bumps on her chest instead of something alluring and enticing, and her nipples are small, puffy and so palely pink that, in certain light, it's hard to tell that she's got nipples at all. If there's one part of her body that she's really not pleased with, it's her tits. Her face isn't so perfect. For one, it's kinda round, and her chin is a little too pointy. Her nose is fine, though. She has no idea if her green eyes are sultry or sweet, and her lips might not be pouty like Katie's, but they're a bit fuller and 'very kissable' as Dave likes to say. Her hair may not be luxurious, but it's pretty nice. In fact, she likes her hair. It's long, like Katie's, but golden blonde, maybe not as shiny as Katie's, but it's got nice body and just the right amount of waviness.
She knows she's not gorgeous like Katie, but she likes to think she's pretty. If nothing else, she knows she's not ugly, but she also knows she's not a prime piece of ass. If Katie is steak, then she's hamburger.
Her physical assessment complete, she continues to stare at herself in the mirror, her doubt and insecurity seeming to stare back at her, not feeling any better about herself than when she started, if anything, she might feel worse.
In her mind, she doesn't quite measure up to Katie, at least physically, and it bothers her. She hates that it bothers her, because she's not in competition with Katie. But, at the same time, she kinda is. After all, they both want Dave, and he's been with both of them, so he has to have compared the two, measured them against each other, and she knows that she's come up short.
But that's just stupid, because Dave chose her, not Katie. She's the one he's constantly stealing kisses from, regardless of where they are and who could catch them. She's the one he casually gropes while they're out on patrol. She's the one he fucks at the drop of a hat. She's the one that makes him cum. She's the one that saw his potential to be a hero. She's the one that trained him and helped him become a better hero. She's his partner. She's his best friend. She's the one who needs him. She's the one who loves him.
So why does she continue to torture herself with these thoughts and feelings that nag at her, cause her to doubt herself and threaten to drive her insane?
She wants to cry and yell and scream and smash the mirror, but all she does is continue to stare at her reflection, seeing every tiny little flaw and imperfection, seeing her unworthiness, seeing the doubt that seems to ooze out of her.
Why is he with me? She asks herself. Why would he be interested in me at all? I certainly don't have the body that Katie does, so what is it? What is it that drew him to me in the first place, and what keeps him coming back?
Try as she might, she can't think of one good reason Dave would want her or would choose her over Katie. And that's when a very disturbing and depressing thought occurs to her.
Maybe Dave is only interested in me because I'm Hit Girl. Maybe he likes being the first and only guy to fuck Hit Girl.
She's pulled from her dark musings by movement in the mirror.
Refocusing her eyes, she sees that Dave is standing behind her. She was so focused on her silly bullshit that she didn't even hear him come in.
Her eyes meet his in the mirror, but she doesn't turn around, doesn't even make a move to cover her nudity.
Without saying a word, and without breaking eye contact, he steps closer to her, pressing his body against her back and wrapping his arms around her waist, his hands coming to rest on her stomach, his cheek, rough with stubble, lightly pressing against hers.
She can feel her body react to his, her heart speeding up, her breathing a little more shallow, her skin tingling where ever it's in contact with his.
She wonders if it's the same for him, if his heart is pounding, if it's harder for him to breathe, if his skin is tingling. She can't really tell, because she's having a very difficult time controlling herself, keeping her body in check, keeping herself from turning around, kissing the hell out of him, tearing his clothes off and fucking him until he can't remember his own name. Still, she hopes he feels the same things she does, the same excitement and struggle to maintain control.
His eyes betray nothing, other than a deep affection and admiration that causes a familiar fluttering in her stomach and a growing heat between her legs.
She wants to fuck him, wants him to fuck her.
There's an annoying whisper in the back of her mind that, despite her body's growing arousal, wants to ask him what he sees in her, if he thinks she's beautiful, if he loves her. It shames her, and she's thankful that she can't seem to find her voice, but she can't maintain eye contact with him for fear that he'll see her insecurity, see that he was wrong to choose her, see that she's not the one he really wants.
She looks away and can feel heat climbing up her cheeks as she tries to fight her embarrassed blush, but she makes no move to leave his embrace. Instead, she places her hands over his, entwining their fingers, drawing strength from the connection.
Moments pass in silence, and she finds herself growing more confident the longer he holds her, but she's still not ready to look him in the eye yet.
The silence is broken when he speaks, his voice low and soft, the sound vibrating against her cheek.
"I ended things with Katie today."
It takes a moment for his words to register, and when they do, her eyes immediately find his in the mirror.
Did he just say what I think he said? She asks herself as she tries to overcome her surprise and keep control of herself until she's certain of the answer.
Her throat is suddenly dry, there's a fluttering in her stomach and a growing tightness in her chest, like something inside is threatening to burst, and she's not sure if it's a good thing or bad.
He hasn't said anything else, just keeps looking at her with those adoring blue eyes filled with affection, patiently waiting for her to grasp his words and react to them.
She's not sure she can speak and is surprised when she hears her voice, small and filled with tentative hope and disbelief, whisper, "What did you say?"
He gives her a reassuring squeeze, and she thinks she can see a smile in his eyes as he answers, "I broke up with Katie."
He broke up with... She can't even finish the thought, because she's overwhelmed with emotion, so much so that all she manages to do is stare at him dumbly.
Apparently, that's not the reaction he was hoping for, but he seems to take it in stride, maintaining his hold on her while filling the silence with words he thinks she wants or needs to hear.
"I'm so sorry it took me so long. I know how much you hate Katie, and I can only imagine how much it had to bother you to see me with her at school, acting like I was her loving boyfriend. And I know it had to drive you nuts to think about me and her...doing things together, but I promise that, after you and I started doing things together, I never did things with Katie."
She can hear the sincerity in his voice, see it in his eyes, as he apologizes for not breaking up with Katie sooner and assures her that he stopped fucking Katie when he started fucking her. His inability or unwillingness to saying it so bluntly is cute and warms her heart, reminding her of one of the many reasons she loves him.
He pauses briefly to gauge her reaction, but she continues to stare at him, her expression unreadable, her emotions remaining bottled up inside, waiting for the right moment to be released, and he takes her lack of reaction as a sign that he hasn't said the right things yet.
"I know I should've manned up sooner, but I was afraid that if I handled things wrong, you and I would've found ourselves in a world of shit. I mean, I don't care how old you are, but the law cares, and I wouldn't put it past Katie to turn me in for having sex with a minor. She's got a vindictive streak. And then there's Marcus. Shit, if he found out that we've been having sex, he'd fucking kill me. And that's if I'm lucky."
She understands his concerns and knows they're valid. She always knew Katie was a bitch, and she wouldn't be surprised if Katie threw Dave to the wolves just to spite him. The thought of Katie doing anything to hurt Dave makes her blood boil, and she has to fight to keep herself in check. She hasn't let Katie ruin what she and Dave have, and she's not about to start now. Katie aside, Dave's fear of what Marcus would do to him if he found out they're having sex is justified. As much as she loves Marcus, he's a bit overprotective and not exactly rational when it comes to her. He'd never believe that Dave isn't taking advantage of her, that she wants Dave as much as he wants her, and even if Marcus did believe it, he wouldn't care. He's all about the law, and, as stupid as it is, Dave is breaking it. Still, she'd never let Marcus do anything to Dave. She'd never let anyone do anything to Dave.
Caught up in her inner musings and the swirl of emotions raging within her, she still doesn't respond, and he pushes on.
"Okay, so the whole getting busted by the law or killed by Marcus is a weak excuse, especially since we've been flouting the law for years with the whole costumed hero thing. The truth is, I'm just a huge pussy. I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize what you and I have, and me pretending to still be Katie's boyfriend while being your actual boyfriend in secret was working, so I figured why rock the boat. But you deserve better than that."
For some reason, hearing him say that last line breaks through the mental and emotional fog that's been clouding her brain, and she finds herself looking at him in a way she never has before, like she's seeing him for the first time.
His tone and expression become suddenly and unexpectedly somber as he continues in a quiet voice.
"You deserve better than me, too."
She hears his words, but she doesn't understand them and is confused as to why he said them. Regardless, she has a sinking feeling in her gut and is very uneasy about where this is going. Still, she manages to remain calm, on the surface at least, and waits for him to explain.
"I know how lucky I am to have you. Believe me. But..."
The pause and what he's saying have her on the verge of panic as her worst fears seem about to come true, and she feels helpless to do anything about it. It's all she can do to keep her breathing under control, even as she feels the threat of tears looming.
"But I worry this is just a phase you're going through, that you're only with me because of the whole superhero thing. I mean, you and I have fought and bled together, saved each other's lives, and that's bonded us in a way I've never experienced before. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade our time together for anything, but I'm not exactly on your level when it comes to being a hero, and I keep wondering when you'll realize that I'm holding you back. And if I'm not your partner on the streets, then you'll have no reason to hang out with me, which means this whole you and me thing, in and out of costume, will be over, and I don't want that. I think...I think that's why it took me so long to end things with Katie. I was afraid to let her go even though I didn't want her anymore, because I didn't know how much longer I'd have you, and if I don't have you, then having Katie is better than being alone."
She's in disbelief, completely stunned by Dave's confession. She'd been preparing herself for him breaking up with her, and instead he tells her that he's afraid she'll break up with him. How fucking stupid is that? Why would she ever break up with him? Why would she ever want to? And what's this bullshit about him holding her back?
The whole thing is beyond absurd, but it's also a huge relief.
As confused as she is about Dave's fears and insecurities, she's also kinda happy to know that she's not the only one who has them, even if hers are more valid, at least in her opinion. Still, at least she knows that he wants to be with her, as friends, heroes and lovers, and that fills her with an incredible warmth, like nothing she's ever experienced before. At the same time, she's annoyed and angry with Dave for thinking he's holding her back, that he's not good enough, and thinking she'll what? Outgrow him? Like he's a passing fad, the flavor of the month? She wants to kick his ass, beat some sense into him, but she also wants to kiss him and show him she loves him, show him that she's not going anywhere, ever. She still can't seem to find her voice, though, but she hopes that her eyes are conveying at least some of what she's feeling, because she really wants him to know how much she appreciates, wants and loves him.
She can tell he's frustrated by her lack of reaction from the way he sighs and looks at her with an expression that screams 'what do I have to do?' But she's heartened by the fact that he doesn't loosen his hold on her, doesn't pull away. Instead, he squeezes her a bit tighter, looks into the reflection of her eyes in the mirror and continues laying himself bare, emotionally.
"I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for putting you through this, for dragging things out, and I hope you can forgive me. I also want you to know that I...love you. You're so unbelievably amazing, and I'm not talking about you being Hit Girl. I can't stop thinking about you, the way your eyes sparkle when you smile, the way you seem to glow when you laugh, the fact that your kisses taste like sunshine..."
"Stop." It's just one word, softly spoken, but it gets his attention.
She can feel the tension in his body as he waits for her to say something else, and she wonders, momentarily, if he thinks she's going to say something that'll break his heart but dismisses the notion, because he has to know that she loves him, right? Then again, maybe he doesn't. Either way, she has to make sure, can't leave any doubt in his mind.
Turning in his arms, she places a hand on the back of his neck, while the other hand cups his stubbly cheek, her thumb lightly caressing his lips.
Her eyes roam over his face, taking in every feature, before meeting his gaze. She's looked into his eyes plenty of times, but this is the first time she's truly been in awe of what she sees. Pure, unadulterated love, but also hope and fear. The emotion is so raw, so beautiful, it makes her want to cry. In fact, she can feel her eyes start to shimmer with the beginnings of tears. Normally, she doesn't like to cry, but, right now, she doesn't care.
She just wants to express to him exactly how she feels, how he makes her feel, how much she loves him. She wishes she could say something profound and beautiful and romantic, but that's never really been her thing. Instead, she goes with what she knows.
"Dave." She pauses for dramatic effect, stretching out the moment as long as possible. "That was...the sappiest bullshit I've ever heard."
She smiles to take the sting from her words before raising herself up on her toes while pulling him down and proceeding to kiss him like there's no tomorrow.
She pours everything she has into that kiss, all of her fear, doubt, frustration, hope, desire and love, every emotion she's ever felt for or because of him.
He doesn't react to her kiss immediately, clearly taken off guard, but as she continues to kiss him, he starts kissing back, his lips caressing hers. His hands, which had been resting on her lower back, slowly move down, skimming over the smooth skin of her ass, each hand cupping a cheek, gently squeezing. She moans in response, deepening the kiss and pressing herself closer to him, and that's when she feels it, a familiar hardness against her stomach, tangible proof of his desire, irrefutable evidence that he wants her, and it fills her with a heady sense of power.
Feeling brazen, she begins writhing against him, and she immediately feels him shudder, his hands gripping her ass tighter, pulling her closer to him as he grinds his hard-on against her stomach.
She can feel heat spreading throughout her body, starting between her legs, and she wants more, wants to be consumed by it, wants Dave to be consumed by it.
As much as she doesn't want to, she breaks the kiss, her breath coming in ragged pants as she looks into his lust-filled eyes and manages to say two words, "Fuck me."
He stares at her for a moment, pure, animalistic need in his eyes, and then, to her surprise and delight, he lifts her onto his shoulder and carries her to the bed.
The sex is fast and furious to start, Dave's clothes practically ripped from his body and tossed away, hands grasping and groping, lips kissing every inch of exposed flesh they can reach, tongues tasting the salty tang of sweat, bodies slapping wetly together, but by the end, it's tender and sweet, reverent caresses, lazy thrusts, loving gazes, sweet whispered words and soft, affectionate kisses.
When it's over, they lie in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs, their chests heaving as they come down from their high, bodies still trembling and tingling with the remnants of pleasure.
She never really understood the term 'afterglow' before, but lying in Dave's arms, seeing the lazy smile on his lips, the contentment in his eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath her palm, she gets it. She understands what all those stupid girls at school were talking about when they'd swoon over some douchebag. Not that she's swooning or would ever swoon, not even over Dave. Hit Girl does NOT swoon. Still, she really likes this feeling and wouldn't mind having it every day for the rest of her life.
It isn't long before Dave drifts off to sleep. She knows she's supposed to be annoyed that he fell asleep shortly after sex, but she isn't. Quite the opposite. She feels a sense of pride that sex with her takes so much out of him, that she's able to satisfy him so completely that he needs to recharge with sleep.
She's content to just watch him for a while, her eyes taking in every inch of his body, marveling at the fact that he's hers in every way. She never thought she'd say that about anyone, let alone a guy she didn't even know existed two years ago, never thought she'd want anyone like that, never thought she'd need anyone the way she needs him. And she does need him, more than she thought possible and more than he'll probably ever know.
She's not sure how long she watches him sleep, but before too long, she becomes restless, feeling the need to move, so she climbs out of bed, careful not to wake him. She doesn't bother with clothes, actually feeling empowered by her nudity.
Her legs are still a bit unstable, and she knows she's gonna be sore tomorrow, but she's looking forward to it. Not quite knowing what to do, she begins walking around her room, picking up Dave's clothes from where they were haphazardly tossed. She briefly considers putting on his shirt but decides against it.
As she gathers up Dave's socks, she catches a glimpse of herself in the floor-length mirror. Pausing in her task, she stands up and positions herself in front of the mirror, just as she had before Dave arrived.
Her reflection stares back at her, just as it did before, but it looks different to her somehow, which makes no sense, because she hasn't changed. Her legs are still the same, short and toned, marred with bruises and little nicks and cuts. Her hips and ass are still the same, small and boy-ish, tight and firm. Her pussy is still the same, covered in untamed blonde curls. Her stomach is still the same, flat, tight and toned. Her tits are still the same, small and unremarkable with pale pink, puffy nipples. Her face is still the same, kinda round with a pointy chin, green eyes and full, "kissable" lips. Her hair is still the same, long and golden blonde with the right amount of waviness.
Everything about her is the same, and yet it isn't.
Maybe it's the sheen of sweat that lingers on her skin and makes it appear to glow in the late afternoon sun. Maybe it's the slight dampness of her hair that makes it cling to her forehead. Maybe it's the way her lips appear to be swollen and slightly red. Maybe it's the satisfied look in her eyes, the sparkle that seems to make them shine.
Maybe it's all of those things or none of them. She doesn't know.
And yet, she's not nearly as critical of herself or her appearance as she was before. In fact, she likes the way she looks, likes the fact that she can see the places where Dave has marked her, his teeth on her shoulder, his fingernails on her ribs, his lips on hers, his cock in her pussy. It's then that she notices his cum leaking out of her, a trail of white stickiness slowly traveling down the inside of her thighs. She's mesmerized by it, torn between wanting to wipe it away and wanting it to coat as much of her as possible. She's also disappointed to see it leave her pussy. It's not that she minds having his cum on her, but she prefers it inside her where it belongs...where he belongs.
As she watches his cum slowly work its way down her legs, she realizes that she no longer feels any doubt about what Dave sees in her or why he loves her. She also realizes that it doesn't matter. All that matters is that he does love her. That's all that ever mattered. It's the most obvious thing in the world, and yet it comes as a complete revelation to her. She feels stupid for not knowing it sooner and for ever having doubts. She also feels stupid for not realizing that Dave had doubts about her feelings for him and his place in her life. And she feels really stupid for comparing herself to a skank like Katie and especially for thinking she didn't measure up.
At that moment, another revelation occurs to her, one far more disturbing than any of the doubts or insecurities she felt earlier.
I'm just like every other teenage girl in the world. She thinks with horror.