|The D.C Collection | Imagines, One-Shots, Preferences, and More |

In The Morning | Diana Prince x Reader

Description: Your morning routine with Wonder Woman.

Words: 1688

Notes: Part 3 of recover works from the old blog.

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Diana's fingers carded through your hair, untangling the knots with her nimble fingers and playing with the strands. She felt like a kitten playing with yarn. Maybe if she focused on that thought, it would make the nightmare go away. And as she thought of what you would be doing on her day off, resting and dreaming of the future together, the gunshots and the echoing explosions died beneath the sounds in the room.

She watched the fan spin above your heads, keeping her eye on one blade and following it as it spun, trying not to get dizzy. The sound was the white noise you usually required to fall asleep. Diana left it on even if it made the room colder than needed. But with the cold came your need for warmth, which you gained through Diana. Wrapped her embrace, you were home.

The sun is just rising over the city of Paris, where the two of you had moved so you could attend university and she could work at the Louvre Museum. After you graduated and she was promoted, you had begun to consider moving, especially if she was to be more involved in her role as Wonder Woman. Thus there were boxes everywhere in your apartment, cabinets being emptied and books packed away. Even with this, the two of you were still enamored with the city and its people.

Diana watched the orange light fall over your eyelids, lashes fluttering with the soft assault of light. She can't help but smile when you scrunch your nose and turn more into her side to avoid the rays. As she strokes your cheek with her thumb, Diana views the city through your large bedroom windows. The Eiffel Tower stands as thin as a toothpick in the distance, sky blurring from black, to blue, to pink, to orange, to yellow. She's amazed once again as she's reminded of your painting skills; a canvas with the same image rests below the window sill, accompanied by a mass of pieces you were working on or were planning to turn into masterpieces.

"My love," Diana whispers, gently rousing you from your rest. Diana closes her eyes, waiting for the sound that is iconic only to the two of you; you groan out in defiance, capturing her waist and pulling her closer to you in protest. She giggles, melting into your hands as you press yourself into her chest. Tilting your brow so it rests against her collarbone, you embrace her under the covers and pout,"I don't want to get up, Dia!" You whine.

"Y/N," She beams around your name, her voice making flowers grow and babies babble joyfully,"You said we would spend a day together. We cannot do that when you are sleeping!" Diana bubbles. Her enthusiasm takes your hand as you take hers, kissing the tips of her fingers with a tired sigh. She is your weakness, and she is aware of it,"Only if I can brush your hair."

Diana's teeth glimmer in the morning light,"Of course, my love."

In your half-conscious state, Diana is practically carrying you into the bathroom, that same adoring and dopey smile on her face as you lean against her. You slip into the shower and quickly douse yourselves, the hot water on your back not helping you ease into the alertness being awake provides. Rather, as you lather Diana's hair with the shampoo that smells of strawberries, your eyes droop and your movements slow.

While you brush your teeth she dries your hair with a blowdryer, switching as you prepare for a comfortable day. Taking your nicest brush, you instruct Diana to sit in the chair before the mirror and you get to work. Brushing her hair is a luxury within itself, the deep brown locks like flowing river water in your hands. She watched your expression as you untangle her clean hair, concentrating on not pulling too hard as to hurt her. Upon finishing, you sweetly lay your arms over her chest from behind, smiling at your reflections,"What do you want to do today, honey?"