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June Moone never used to wear glasses. But she never used to be possessed by an ancient deity either, so in the grand scale of how much things in her life had changed recently, the glasses were just a detail. She liked them, actually. They helped her feel grounded in her newly appropriated human body. They were like a talisman that reminded her of her true nature, something to fiddle with to ease the tension when she was being scrutinised by Government officials. Like the very mature pantsuits, the PTSD and the prehistoric witch ; they were part of the new June Moone. An odd package deal. Gone was the funny, careless daredevil who preferred exploring caves to teaching classes to bored UCL undergraduates. The Enchantress had taken it all away. And now she wore glasses.
So maybe June’s life was now a gigantic mess she couldn’t control. But at least she had met Rick Flag. Good guy, loyal, patriotic, all-American, nothing she’d ever thought she would fall for. But maybe when you’ve spent months sharing your brain with a power-hungry mystic creature from another Age, your tastes in men change. Rick was the one who found her just after she had managed to take back control on her body by performing an obscure ritual. He hadn’t looked at her like the monster she thought she was. He had helped her, looked after her. And when the Amanda Waller had decided she wanted to keep an eye on her, he had been designated as the head of her security detail. Odd job for such a high-ranking soldier, some had thought. They obviously didn’t know what June was hiding.
In the end, falling for Rick had been easy. He was there, he was nice and she was lonely. June could see how he looked at her when he thought she couldn’t see him. Reverently, fiercely. She needed it. She needed the burn of his eyes on her skin and the force of his feelings to warm her up. Kissing him for the first time had been intoxicating. Just one night she had told herself. Just one time to feel alive again. But Rick ended up becoming much more. So much more. Slowly, time passed and she never stopped seeing him. He wormed his way in her heart, her thoughts, her life.
Of course Amanda Waller heard about their affair and she decided to use it in another one of her cruel schemes. But at least they could stop hiding, and Rick moved in her Government-funded DC flat. Maybe things were moving a bit too fast between them. Maybe it was just fate. June had stopped caring. She had found one good thing in the living hell her life had become. She wasn’t going to give it up. She treasured their moments together jealously, her most precious treasure. Because Rick was in love with her, he was hers, and hers alone.
That night, they watched a movie, snuggled up on the large bed. Something British from her childhood that Rick had never heard about before. It brought back warm memories of simpler times : the little cinema near her parents’ house in Leeds, her mother reading her stories. Her hair was down, her glasses abandoned on the nightstand. The film was funny and her laugh was real. Like abandon.
She had these moments, sometimes, when she felt like the ghost of a younger, cheekier, pre-Enchantress June Moone. In moments of freedom or happiness, she would forget about the nightmares and smile a real smile and live like she used to, with all her energy and her soul.
Rick was inching closer to her, chasing the warmth of her laugh. June grabbed his hand. Their fingers intertwined. She brought them to her lips. Her grin against them became a kiss. Eyes open, she drank in the moment. It felt like nothing mattered. Like before the cave, before the witch. She drew in a breath and straddled Rick. They were both sitting, propped against the headboard. Her smile softened, more sensual. The old June Moone had always loved sex. She knew this dance by heart.
They kissed for a while. Languidly, taking their time, drawing moans from each other. Hands explored bodies, clothes came off. Rick murmured professions of love into her bare collarbones, making his way to her breasts. He could spend ages worshipping her body, inch per inch. She loved that about him, the way he made her feel in control of her own skin, the Enchantress forgotten.
Rick teased her nipple, rolling it with the tip of his tongue. June whimpered. She threw her head back, letting her hair cascade over her neck. With her hands, she gripped his shoulders. She never wanted to let go. Never. He switched to the next one, and she dug her nails in his back. His fingers blindly reached for her panties, pushed them aside, found her clit and pressed. June finally closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment.
She started rocking against his hand. But the friction wasn’t enough. Her whole body was aflame and she wanted more. She nested her face in the crook of his neck and supported her body against his. Then, she let her hands fall from his shoulders to pull down the zipper of his trousers and free his aching member, hot and hard against her core. Rick groaned, June smirked. This was her, this was her doing. She was in control and she wasn’t afraid. She pushed his hand aside end pushed two of her fingers in, revelling in the rough burn and the slickness she could feel.
Rick grew quickly tired of her grinding on her own fingers just against him. He pressed hard kisses on her neck and shoulders before gripping her waist and lifting her up, centering her just above his cock. June looked at him with hooded eyes. She brushed her fingers, glistening with her want, against his lips, leaving a trail. He licked it away with his eyes trained on her, fascinated by the fire he saw in her eyes, so in love with her, with the old June and the new June alike.
She braced herself around his neck and slowly sunk down on his lap. He gave her a few heartbeats to adjust. When her breathing relaxed, he trusted up and down, his hands steady around her waist. The rhythm was measured.
June huffed. “I’m not made of glass, Colonel. Harder, please, I need to feel you”.
Rick swallowed hard. His grip on her tightened. He slammed up into her, and she met his frantic thrusts with equal passion, kissing him with her mouth open. The Enchantress had a disdain for sex. To her, it was just a basic mortal need. But to June it was perfect, liberating. And how incredible was it that the warmth in her core matched the warmth in her heart when her lips were panting “Rick, Rick, Rick” with each of his movements. She had never felt love like this before.
He came with a grunt and buried his face in her chest. She could feel his hot breath on her skin. He kissed her there and brought a trembling finger to her clit, rubbing it haphazardly to bring her over the edge with him. June rocked down to meet his hand, mouth agape, her moans low. When her orgasm took her, she cried out. Her mind was blank. She was alone with Rick. Just the two of them, their bodies glued to the other, covered in sweat. Yes, just the two of them. She smiled again.
She went to the bathroom to clean up before collapsing on the bed. Rick was already asleep, his trousers still half undone on his hips. The fondness in her heart when she looked at him was almost intoxicating. She reached for his side and drew herself closer to him. Tired and sated, she fell into slumber surrounded by the smell of her lover, hoping for a night free of bad dreams and immortal witches.