Mommy was so good to you. Letting you crawl up into your arms and onto her stomach, even after she's had such a long day at work. Saving the world, blasting aliens, and all that. You don't really care about that right now. Your brain is all fuzzy, as it always gets when your Mommy's around. You think its because she makes you feel so safe, like nothing could ever get to you if you have Mommy to protect you. You're such an adorable little bunny. Don't have a single clue, do you? "Have an icky dream, did you?" She coos in your ear, arms wrapping around you and she's so warm and soft and smells like lavender-scented fabric softener it takes everything in you not to burrow into Wanda's embrace. "Oh, honey." Wanda murmurs at the little nod you do against her chest, lithe fingers carding into your hair as she tucks you into her. Safe and sound.
You can't see the subtle upturn of her lips as her free hand strokes your cheek. She loves this. Adores this, how her sweet little girlfriend trembles in her arms like a little foal, how you don't understand that maybe your adoring Mommy with mythical abilities and reality-bending powers could perhaps have something to do with the way your dreams have been getting so—so— Weird. Causing an achy feeling in your stomach that's not quite a tummy-ache. Has your cheeks flushing and you squirming in your sleep. It's embarrassing. You hope your Mommy doesn't mind. (Especially since the dreams are about her. It makes you feel bad. Guilty, like you're doing something wrong, somehow—even if she's trying to coax a straight answer out of you with this dark glimmer of amusement, of knowing in her gaze you don't quite understand.)