Congratulations, we've now moved into Princess Lemon Trash's kingdom. It's smut territory with fluff mixed in. I will try to mark smut episodes at the top so you can avoid them if you want, but be wary from here on out.

Moments - Smut-ish

It happened quite suddenly and unexpectedly.

Beast Boy remembered the exact moment he noticed the heavy, soft feeling, wrapping around his his heart, twisting like barbs. If you asked him when he realized he loved her, it would have told you it was the time she fell asleep on him during a bad monster movie, or the time she laughed at one of his poorly-timed jokes. Those were sweet, innocent things. Things that invoked sweet and innocent feelings that ran deep within his bones.

But the truth was, he didn't realize he loved her during any of those times.

No, the truth was that he realized he loved her the moment her hips were grinding against his own, her nails digging into his shoulders as she threw her head back in wild abandon. He realized he loved her as he watched the movement of her breasts, his hands securely latched onto her hips as she rode him like a prize-winning stallion. He realized he loved her when she raked her fingertips across his chest, deep enough to draw blood. When her eyes were clouded with lust and her body only concerned with the pleasure it was receiving… that was when he truly realized he loved her.

Sex was easy. So incredibly easy. They were five hormonal teenagers trapped in a house together without any real adult guidance, it was almost expected that things would get out of hand. Feelings ran deep and shallow at the same time, and connections were clear, attraction even more so. It was easy to give into those feelings and let them happen. It was easy to fuck her, because they both wanted it. They both wanted the sexual attention, the feeling to get off and get high on the hit of endorphins that raced through their veins.

It was easy to find each other alone in the monstrosity of "T" that they lived in. Whole floors ended up basically vacant for weeks at a time, and practically every room was soundproofed. He could steal her away to a vacant closet or old office, and fuck her like he never fucked her before. Or, if they were feeling a little more adventurous, they would maneuver themselves in more precarious situations. He remembered fucking her with wild abandon on the sofa in the living room, hearing the sound of their approaching teammates just outside of the door. Or the time he took her in the shower, pounding her against the wall as they left the door open, spilling her cries and his grunts into the hallway.

But the moment he discovered how deep his feelings ran, he saw how much things changed. He noticed little, weird quirks that brought him a strange feeling of happiness and delight. When she gave the low chuckle in stead of laughing at him. When her fingers tightened just so around her mug of tea after seeing him first thing in the morning. The sweet scent of jasmine and white tea that radiated from her hair as hit splayed across his pillow. All of these things made him fall even deeper in love with her.

When he first realized his feelings, he fucked her twice as often and twice as rough. He loved seeing her mouth move into the perfect "oh"-shape when he ground against just the right spot, or when she called out his name as she came, milking him of his own release. These were easy joys - moments of excitement from dwelling in their physical love and mutual attraction.

But slowly it became deeper. He found himself staying longer for pillow talk as she healed whatever injuries she caused to him during their activities. He liked the soft lull in her voice when she responded to his questions, knowing that the slight lilt came from her pleasured exhaustion. Even later after that he found himself enjoying actual time with her, movies, dates, things that real couples did. But most of all, he found himself no longer fucking her like an animal, but like a woman. Someone to be treasured and cherished - someone he loved.

These were little changes at first, slowly growing until something ran so deep that it was inextricable from his soul. She was his first love - most likely his only love - and there was something magical about that, something more than words could describe. And now, after all their time together, as she lay helplessly in his arms, her body nearly broken from what he had done to her between the sheets, he heard the three words longed to hear:

"I love you."