My first sequel! Aren't you proud? Hope you enjoy.

I own nothing. It's all DC.

Over the Edge

For the first time ever, Jinx found herself with free time on her hands. She was shocked to learn she had no clue what to do with it. Now that they were completely moved into his apartment in Star City, she had decided to give crime fighting (as well as crime) a break. The problem was, what to do now?

When she was little, most of her time was spent trying to hide her powers. Then, once it became too hard to hide them, she was busy trying to control them. Soon after that was when she had been recruited by Hive Academy; it was the bidding of Slade, then later Brother Blood, that took up most of her time. Once she was free of them, though, she spent her time using her power and will to control others, the Hive Five mostly, the Teen Titans once or twice, even Kid Flash at first, but she quickly learned he was about as controllable as an atomic particle. Or a puppy.

He always seemed to know what to do with his free time, so she went to him with her problem. "I'm bored," she'd said to him one day.

Being as fast as he was, free time was something he had a lot of. Of course, he didn't taker her seriously right off the bat. "You're bored?" he'd parroted, that roguish grin appearing on his face. "I know a great way to pass the time."

Not entirely keen to conversational tropes, she'd responded with a genuinely interested, "What's that?" He then proceeded to show her exactly what he meant, indeed succeeding in passing time. They passed time for about three hours before he gave her any actual suggestions of what she should do. By then, she was too tired to try any of them that day, so they passed some more time in bed until he went out on patrol.

At first, she took some of his suggestions and caught up on a world of popular culture she had completely missed growing up. Every day she watched a smattering of movies, read a plethora of books, and listened to a score of albums. First, raiding his DVD collection and TiVo, she became fairly well versed on the intricacies of CSI and the artistic methods of Seth Rogan and Will Farrel. Next she covered the classics, from Homer to Twain. Then she worked her way through history by way of Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald, The Beach Boys and Kurt Cobain. She paired this quest for knowledge with several hours of people watching each day. She realized that once you stopped to actually look at people, they were really quite interesting. She started bringing her sketch pad with her on these excursions, drawing the particularly interesting individuals she spotted. It wasn't always the person that made it interesting, though, usually it was what they were doing; the way that their bodies were contorted in joy and sadness, the way their hands moved as they went about some tactile task, the angle at which the light caught the contours of their clothes or shone in their hair.

He came upon her one day while she was sitting on her customary bench. She felt his presence instantly, not merely because of the gust of wind that lingered after his arrival but because of certain way her senses heightened when he was around. It tingled like static at the base of her spine when he was near. She didn't stop her sketching though, finishing the line of a child's arm as she reached up for ice-cream from a vendor. When she was done, she put her pencil down and faced him. He was in his normal clothes, something she (at the time) was still getting used to since, at that point, she normally saw him in his costume or out of it.

"Whatcha' drawing?" he asked. She smirked at him, pleased he had learned to ask to see her sketch pad rather than look whenever he decided. Rather than answering, she handed the pad over to him.

He looked at the finished picture, examining it silently for near to a minute. Jinx started getting anxious. He never took this long to look at something unless it was her. He must not like it, she thought as she started picking beneath her finger nail.

"This is what you should do!" he finally exclaimed.

"Huh?" was the only response she could manage to get out.

"Drawing! Art! You should go to art school."

Snatching back the sketch pad, she slammed it to the bench on the other side of herself, out of his reach. "Don't tease me. The unicorns incident was bad enough."

"I'm being serious, Jinx," he insisted. Moving closer, he angled his body toward her and put his arm around her. "You have talent that's begging to be let out. The right school could help you do that."

I've heard that before, she thought, remembering the way the Hive Academy had been pitched to her.

"It was just a thought," he remarked nonchalantly.

As hard as it was to take his thought seriously, she did. Jinx began looking up different art schools in the city. A lot of them had requirements she couldn't really meet. She signed up for a class in the mornings. It helped her gain some technique and inspiration for a couple of pieces she'd want for a portfolio. Her poorly hidden excitement at the whole thing made Wally feel a bit smug. Often, she'd feel the gust of wind that told her he was home followed by a prideful comment. Like today.

"Homework?" he asked in a baiting maner, peering over her shoulder at the recent charcoal etching she was working on.

She didn't even bother looking up from what she was doing. "No," she told him, flatly. "I'm devising your death. These are the plans. Haven't I told you? I'm going to be bad again."

"Good to know," he replied, kissing her quickly on the crown of her head. With another whoosh, he was in the bedroom. He emerged in the clothes he most liked to wear around the apartment: a t-shirt and a pair of loose sweat pants that hung low on his hips. Lifting his arms in a stretch, his shirt rose up a bit, revealing the sharp cut of his pubic bone along with the light trail of red hair that ran down his abdomen and disappeared into his pants. Jinx stared across the table she sat at, completely mesmerized.

How am I supposed to get any work done? she wondered. Damn masculine wiles!

With a huff, he unceremoniously dropped onto the couch and began flicking through t.v. channels with the remote. Jinx did her best to continue working but all she could think about was the complete contradiction the man she was living with was. He was super fast but could loaf around with the best of couch potatoes, he was a complete goof in conversation yet could be gravely stern in bed, and while some of the dumbest things came out his mouth, he was extremely well read, as his dog-eared book collection testified. It was then she remembered she needed to paint a portrait of someone she knew before the class was over in a couple of weeks.

Turning to a new sheet of paper, she began sketching him, first the broad lines of his frame, then the detailed creases of his clothes.

He noticed her concentration on him. A look of puzzlement came across his face.

"Are you drawing me?" he asked. She wasn't quite sure of his tone, so she answered playfully.


"Oh," he said, then went back to watching t.v., though a good deal more fidgety.

"You need to sit still," she implored him.

"It's hard when you're scrutinizing me like that!"

"I'm not scrutinizing. It's just a sketch, not going to be anything final. Just relax; do what you do every day. I just happen to be drawing it."

He returned to watching t.v., a suspicious look on his face every few moments that he turned to look at her. Soon he stopped, a slow smile spreading to his face. Very discreetly, he reached down into his pants. His hand stayed there for a while. Jinx had thought he was just scratching or readjusting himself, as guys were prone to do, but as she started working on the details of the picture, she realized he had pulled his hardened member out of his pants and saw what he was doing. For a moment she was once again captivated by the sight of him, completely clothed and pleasuring himself. He let out a soft moan that made her skin crawl with nervous excitement. After that, she was able to shake it off.

"I can't draw you like that."

"Why not?"

"You're supposed to sit still," she told him, trying very hard to sound serious and annoyed.

"You said to relax and do what I do every day. So, I'm doing it."

"Do you normally jerk off to cooking shows?"

Turning to her with a lazy, lecherous grin, he exhaled as he spoke: "It's not exactly what's on my mind at the moment."

She felt herself blush and saw his grin cut deeper into his cheek, showing a dimple. Their eyes were locked now. It was stupid. How can anyone have eyes that blue? she thought, though she was one to talk; her eyes were pink.

Jeez! He's so freaking distracting! He's barely been in the room for more than five minutes and already I wanted to rip his clothes off and...

His eyes shut as his head lolled back, his lips just barely parting.

That's it! Closing her sketch pad, Jinx crept over until she was standing in front of him. Kneeling down, she ran her hands up his thighs. His eyes popped open, genuine surprise in them. So caught up with himself, he hadn't heard her approach him. His ability to become so easily preoccupied was another thing about him she found annoying at times but mostly endearing. Training her hands farther up, she joined him in pulling and rubbing on his now very hardened member. For a moment, she watched as both of their hands traveled along his length, trading off in strokes, cupping his balls while the other pumped. Soon she leaned forward and took his tip into her mouth. A small series of pants fell from his mouth, all punctuated by a soft moan as she released him with an audible pop.

Daintily, she ran the flat of her tongue up the underside of his cock. With deep breath, he tangled one of his hands in her hair, not really pulling or pushing, just holding it tight in a fist. Not wasting any more time, she took most of him deep into her mouth and sucked, moving her tongue along him in varying rhythms. He responded with a deep moan as his head fell back again. Eagerly, she reached under his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his stomach flinch and contract against his will. She bobbed her head up and down, humming with satisfaction as his hips jerked forward in an involuntary thrust. "I'm gunna' cum," she soon heard him whisper between shallow pants. And he did. She swallowed what she could, though most of it spilled down her chin and into his lap. Once she had sucked him dry and he lay panting and still, she crawled up his body, wiping her face on his shirt and gripped the back of his head, demanding a kiss from his lips. Though not entirely coherent, he complied, parting his lips and inviting her tongue and the taste himself into his mouth.

Before she realized it, his hands had worked their way under her shirt and were inching closer to the clasp of her bra. Noticing this, she disentangled herself from him, pulling away with a quick lick of his chin. Strolling back to the table, she continued with her sketch.

"Are you kidding me?!" he exclaimed.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him, an expression of complete disbelief plastered to his face.

"You're not doing that," he told her, turning off the t.v..

If he could play stupid, than so could she. "Doing what?"

"Get over here and finish what you started," he said, pointing vigorously at his lap.

"I did," she said, turning back to her work. "It's all over your shirt."

All she heard was a growl from his direction then, in a flash, he'd scooped her up and tossed her down on their bed. In the time it took for her body to bounce once on the mattress, he had stripped himself of his clothes. He looked wild standing above her, his hair in disarray from their kiss, the slant of sunlight through the window casting a shadow across his face, the beacons of his eyes shining through. She felt a chill creep down her spine as he slowly descended on her, small sparks coming off of the spots where their skin met as he pushed her shirt over her head, the internal hyper speed of his body's functions reacting with the magic surging through her. Her pants came next, then her bra, followed by her underwear, which he all but tore off of her with an elastic snap. Taking hold of her, he slowly started to part her thighs.

She wriggled in his grasp. "But I have to finish my assignment," she protested.

"You suck my dick then expect me to let you go back to doing homework?" He sounded shocked.

To her own disappointment, she lost her imagined resolve as his hand found the sweet spot between her legs. She let out soft sounds of delight as he rubbed in circles against her clit, completely contented by the sensation of running her fingers through his hair and the gentle strokes of his fingers. His kisses were slow but hungry. She felt the softest part of him go stiff again as it pulsed against her thigh. Gently, she lifted her leg to rub against him. His response was a slight moan as he kissed her harder, but no harsher than before. At the same time, she felt his hand dip lower and his fingers slip inside of her, pulling a small whine from her as she arched her hips up to his touch.

As he pulled away from their kiss, she saw a sly smile slip across his lips. Contagious as it was, she mirrored it. She began to get suspicious, though, when she realized he now wore the look he tended to get right before he did something he was particularly proud of.

"What are you planning?" she asked, curling a bit of his hair around her finger.

Licking his bottom lip before speaking, he said, "This." With that, his fingers moved back to her clit then went from 0 to 60 in less than a second, creating a powerful vibration that nearly made her leap out of her skin.
With a jump and a shout of surprise at the sensation, she tossed her head back, reveling in how wonderful it felt. She felt herself smiling uncontrollably and heard herself giggle, squealing girlishly and laughing at her own initial shock as she spread her legs farther apart. It felt absolutely delicious. She almost wanted to laugh louder at how ludicrous this situation would have seemed less than a few months ago, but she was too distracted by his tongue as it ran over his bottom lip again. Tangling her fingers in the orange mass atop his head, she pulled him down for a kiss, refusing to let him go. He began pressing harder against her clit as he rapidly ran his fingers over it, alternating pressure, as if he were sending out a Morse coded S.O.S..

He yanked his mouth away to kiss her neck just as she was mid moan.

"Wally!" she gasped, clawing at his scalp, "Why didn't you ever do this before?"

After a few gentle nips at her flesh he replied with his lips against her chin, "I need to keep some tricks up my sleeve. How else am I supposed to hang on to you?"

Had she not been so enthralled, she might have hexed him for the cheekiness in his tone. She sighed, her sigh becoming a sharp squeak when he pressed unexpectedly harder against her for a moment, earning a small chuckle from him. That playfulness in him was also something she couldn't have imagined up until recently. He'd started indulging her playful nature in bed, tentatively at first, though now possibly rivaling her at times. She realized, though, that he wasn't actually playing just now. This became clear when he didn't stop once her whole body began to squirm. Gradually, the smile on her face began to fade and her legs retracted the longer his ministrations went on. What he was doing still felt wonderful, but this was a new and intense level of pleasure that she wasn't used to and it was taking actual work to keep herself together. Her hands moved down from his hair to grip his shoulders, where it seemed there was something that could anchor her a bit more steadily. He seemed to know the effect it was having on her because he then propped himself up on his other arm, watching her reactions to his touch, a glint of anticipation on his eye.

"Quit teasing me," she spat out, a quiet whimper breaching her lips.

His only response was a slight cock of his head and a harder application of pressure without rest. Crying out, she pressed her hands against his chest, as if trying to push him away, but instead she began to rub her hands over him, her nails digging into him at times, her legs shivering uncontrollably against his thighs. Returning to the thick, orange mass of his hair, she ran her hands up the back of his neck and pulled him closer for a kiss.

"I want you inside me," she whispered against his lips.

"Not 'till you cum," he countered, growling into her cheek.

His voice, in that moment alone, nearly undid her. Her hands closed into fists against his chest and her eyes squeezed shut to bare the mounting pressure that was slowly overwhelming her. Tenderly, he kissed her cheek in encouragement.

"Cum for me," he urged her, slipping two fingers inside her and slowly thrusting them. She sucked in air, her teeth gritted. Her moans began to be interspersed with grunts of effort. His actions set her panting until they began to push her over the edge.

All at once, she felt it; her whole body froze and she went silent and her eyes popped open in surprise. A new tone spilled forth in a hushed moan from her mouth, almost a whisper, "oh...," as if in realization, then louder, "oh..." then leaping loudly to a shout as her back arched from the rapid spasming of her insides that tore through her body, a repetitive "OH!" bouncing off the walls. Against her will, a scream ripped from her lungs. She might have been able to quiet down, had it not been for the fact that, although he had stopped vibrating against her, he chose that moment to ram himself inside her. Gripping her thighs and spreading her legs farther apart, he pumped into her at an unforgiving pace, the speed creating a huge force, inching the bed across the floor with the strength of it. This time, accompanying her burst of screaming were his guttural growls. A sobbing gasp escaped her as his thrusting and harsh grunting persisted, both sending her reeling. Every part of her body was buzzing with ecstasy.

When they first started out, he probably wouldn't have been so rough with her, but being with him had made her stronger. Also, at this point they knew each other well enough to be certain of each others' limits, and he made a point of pushing her as far as she could go as often as possible. Furthermore, he knew she could give as good as she got. Case in point: sucking on her middle finger, she got it sufficiently moist before running it across his bottom and finding the tight hole that lay there. She noticed that he'd slightly spread his legs to her touches, a subtle sign that he knew what was coming. She smiled at her ability to read him and push him, gently, in whichever direction she chose, just as he did to her. Whereas he had his speed, she held the knowledge of an infinity of hexes that could drive him gaga. Pressing slightly against that tight spot, she sent a hex up his backside, not a very big one, just small enough to penetrate a few inches into him to that particular place that heterosexual men seldom learn about.

With a ragged cry, he lost his rhythm. Letting go of her legs he braced himself against the bed. Squeezing his ass with satisfaction, she shot another jolt of magic into him. Faltering further, he coughed at force of it.

"Oh God, woman," he moaned

"I know!" she exclaimed, taking hold of his ass as she met each one of his pounding thrusts.

Her lungs couldn't scream any more, but her body continued convulsing around him, her hands desperately clawing at him as his thrusts slowed considerably but increased in their strength. Hiking her legs high on his hips getting upon his knees, she could now his whole torso as it heaved in time with the powerful rocking of his hips. The sight of him, flushed and panting above her, inside her, because of her, made Jinx swell with lustful pride. The weak afternoon sun caught the strands of gold in his hair, making him seem like sweat-glistened Apollo. He's mine, she briefly thought with satisfaction, not coherent enough to consider the immensity of such truths. She could see his mounting strain and watched his face with rapt attention as he came, teeth clenched and jaw ridged, his eyes shut and head bent forward, completely taken by the force of his orgasm. Collapsing, he shivered violently against her. Her body also quaked, though to a lesser extent than before.

As expected, he recovered sooner than she did. Once his body had relaxed, he went about the adoring habit of what he called "taking inventory," checking every spot on her body with the gentlest of touches. He'd started doing this when they began going on patrols together, as a way to make sure she hadn't been injured during a fight. Now, even though she'd ceased crime fighting for the time being, he still did it most times after they made love.

His head cocked slightly to the side as he watched his hands travel lazily across her flushed body. "You okay?" he asked, running his finger tips along her ribs.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, running her fingers through her hair. "Just need to catch my breath."

"Maybe you need to cool off," he said, taking hold of her ankles. Drawing her legs apart, he began to blow a cool stream of air at the soaking juncture between her legs.

"Oh! Don't," she whined, angling her hips away from him and snapping her knees together. She was too overwhelmed to endure more pleasure. But his grip on her ankles was too firm, and he yanked her back the way she was, this time running the stream of his breath up and down along her opening. Tender and frustrated, she continued, half-heartedly, trying to pull away but found herself growing weak to his will and excited by the sensations he inflicted. She resorted to pressing clenched fists into the mattress.

"What's the matter?" he teased.

"Ugh! You're horrible!" she protested, not actually able or wanting to fight him any longer.

"And you're cranky. Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"No-!" she shouted, but her voice was swallowed by a cry as his lips came down over her clit. Immediately she felt the churning at her core begin again. Clutching his fiery strands, she arched her hips up to his mouth with a pained whine. Gently, his lips and tongue suckled her. His fingers entered her and worked in a familiar rhythm. He didn't need to do much else; she was already lost in sensation. Within another few moments she felt herself come undone for a second time, almost as loudly and harshly as before. Hugging her, he pressed sweet kisses against her neck as she held tightly onto his shoulders. After a few minutes she wiggled out from underneath him and laid on his back.

Jinx absolutely loved to lay on his back, her legs straddled on either side of his hips, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades. The curve of his spine created a wonderful cradle and his muscled body pressed delightfully against her flesh. The friction of his suit had made him mostly hairless, making it feel wonderful to slither against him, biting and nuzzling as she went. The gentle rise and fall of his breath lulled her into a sedate state until enough time had passed and she decided she wanted to take advantage of her position.

Sitting up, she began to massage the tight muscles of his shoulders and upper back. With a moan of a appreciation, he resettled his body, hugging a pillow beneath his head. After soothing him into as relaxed a state as possible, she turned her body around to face his rear and started massaging his thighs and his bottom. Instantly she felt tension coil beneath her fingers, a hint of anticipation giving way in the hitched breath she heard from him. Leaning down, she kissed his firm posterior. She could feel his whole body growing restless again and grinned at his fidgety nature. Spreading her legs further, her knees sunk deep into the mattress, securely pinning him beneath her. With one of his throaty moans, she felt the muscles in his back flex as one of his legs bent for leverage.

"Stay still," she ordered with a hard smack to his backside. With a quiet gasp, he settled back against the bed. A pleasing rosy tint began to rise to his cheeks, more a result of his rising excitement than her spank. "You're blushing," she informed him with a giggle and a second smack. At that he grew pinker. Kissing the spots she had hit, Jinx fondly recalled the first time she learned that he blushed on both sets of cheeks. Now, more than ever, she wanted to do what she was about to do. He had been far too smug earlier and she was going to make him pay for it.

Running her thumbs along the curve of his rear, she spread his cheeks, pressing one of her thumbs to his tight entrance. Careful not to overwhelm him on the first go, she sent a small hex up his tail. The energy of it wrapped around the plush, fleshy node she knew was hidden from sight, the spot she'd tickled before. She heard him let out a harsh breath as she sustained the energy there, showing just as much control as he had earlier when he played "Human Vibrator" with her. Sending another gentle jolt into him, his legs flinched with a small moan. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw the pillow he held was getting substantially crushed as he pressed his forehead harder against it. Sustaining a continuous coil of energy inside him, she managed to get him to cry out in earnest.

"That's it," she encouraged him as he let out a long, strained moan. Biting her tongue in concentration, she started slowly circling her thumb. His moan died down to a whimper before picking back up in a series of harsh cries as her circling sped up. She felt herself growing wet at the sounds of his reaction. Rocking against the small of his back, she did her best to rub between her own legs, succeeding marginally but growing immensely satisfied by his increasing punctuated wails of pleasure and muffled profanity.

Switching her strokes to an up-and-down motion, she slightly increased the intensity of the hex she inflicted upon him. With a shattering cry, his back snapped into an arc. His legs moved as if he were trying to crawl, finally succeeding in lifting himself to all fours. With a cry of surprise, she lost her balance and tumbled off of him. Quicker than she was able to register, she found herself beneath him once again, his cock thrusting inside her. He was close to her now, embracing her completely, his face buried in her neck as his hips rocked with steady determination. Within a few moments, she wasn't sure how he'd done it, but she was certain he was going to make her come again. Mirroring his embrace, she met him, thrust for thrust. In a pulsing tangle of limbs, they came together. Completely spent, their chests heaving, they remained locked in embrace, one inside the other, until they were able to make sense of the world outside their bodies.

He was twitchy, she noticed. It wasn't his I-want-to-be-inside-you twitchy, because he was inside her. There was something he wanted to say. She had a feeling that she knew what it was but suspected his reluctance was due to his own fear. Perhaps it was fear of having said it before without reciprocation, or at least being the first to say it, especially with his reputation of "falling in love easy," as she had been warned before they were together. She decided to make things a bit easier for him. She would say it first.

Running her hand up the back of his neck, she tangled her fingers in his hair.

"I love you, Wally," she whispered.

With a gasp he hugged her tighter, almost crushingly so. In spite of how harshly he held her, his lips pressed against her chin and her temple with reverent caution.

"I love you, Jinx," he repeated with each kiss. "I love you."