# SAVOR IT
⤿ BRUCE WAYNE was convinced he didn't want more kids after the trials and tribulations his adopted children put him through. But then, the two of you got married, and now, five years later, his mornings are consistently interrupted by two little girls who love to crash his chances of making them a sibling.
!! fluff. wife!reader. girl dad!bruce. bruce is so domestic and whipped in this. ugh i love lazy morning intimacy moments. suggestive. bruce loves his kids we all know this. none of them are being crime fighters according to mrs wayne (yet). features two itty bitty daughters. ENJOY.
The morning light seeped gently through the tall windows, brushing against the sheets in a way that made the edges glow gold and soft. You let yourself sink further into the warmth, half lidded eyes tracing the strong, familiar line of your husband's jaw, the way his dark hair caught the sunlight and shimmered faintly at the edges.
Bruce shifted beside you, a low hum escaping his throat as he pressed closer, one hand sliding over your hip with lazy intent. His chest was warm against yours, the slow, steady rhythm of him grounding you in a way only he could.
“You’re warm,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep, brushing his lips against your temple in the kind of kiss that lingered just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. “It's almost unfairly.”
You laughed softly, your fingers teasing at the edge of his shirt, tugging it just slightly, careful to let the moment stretch, letting your hand drift to the bare skin of his stomach as you murmured against him, “Maybe I like it when it’s unfair.”
Bruce chuckled, low and amused, the sound vibrating against your shoulder, his lips brushing your ear this time, trailing down the side of your neck in slow, tantalizing motion.
“Is that a challenge?” he asked, though the spark in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t serious, or maybe he was, but in the most indulgent way imaginable.
You nipped at his jawline in answer, teasing, playful, letting him feel the light touch of your teeth without any bite.
“Maybe,” you whispered, the word lingering between you, soft and intimate, carrying that sort of private meaning reserved for mornings when the rest of the world didn’t exist, and the house belonged only to the two of you.
Bruce groaned softly, tilting his head back against the pillow, letting his hand drift to your back, fingertips brushing down in slow circles that made your pulse skip, your body leaning into his touch.
“We’re going to regret being awake before the girls wake up,” he muttered, his tone teasing but heavy with the promise of something more, and your laugh filled the small space between the sheets.
“Oh, I highly doubt that,” you hummed, brushing your lips across the corner of his mouth, just enough to make him shiver. “I plan on savoring it while I can.”
He swallowed, eyes darkening just slightly in the morning light, a glimmer of amusement and something sharper threading through the corner of his gaze.
“I might need some assistance with that,” he murmured, letting the words hang there, heavy with suggestion, his hand sliding lower along your waist. “Wouldn’t want it the moment to get away from me.”
You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation, though your pulse betrayed your grin. “Oh, you're such a gentleman,” you murmured, letting your hand press just a little more insistently against his lower torso. “Always thinking of everyone else before yourself.”
Bruce’s lips quirked, a smirk tugging at the corner as his hand traced upward along your side, teasing the curve of your ribs. “Especially you,” he grumbled softly, voice dropping, low enough that it brushed against your skin like a little promise.
The sheets rustled as you both shifted closer, the world shrinking to the warmth between you, to the soft hum of breathing and the touch of skin on skin. This was the kind of slow, deliberate intimacy that felt like owning time itself, even if just for a fleeting morning.
You traced the stubbled line of his jaw again, letting your lips brush just barely against him. Your kisses lingering against his skin as you pressed your lips to his adam's apple which bobbed in response. His body leaning into yours with that quiet, confident ease that always made your pulse race, even after years of mornings like this.
“I could get used to this,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hand traveled down, fingers pressing lightly, teasing, “just the two of us, before the chaos hits.”
Bruce let out a low, approving groan, the kind that promised he agreed entirely and had been hoping you’d say that.
“Mmm, so could I,” he breathed, tilting his head toward you just slightly, lips brushing yours in a slow, soft, intimate kiss that lingered far longer than it should have. His hand threading through your hair, pulling you closer as if the world beyond the sheets might vanish completely if you just stayed like this.
And for a moment, it was just the two of you, and it was soft, and it was slow, and it was everything you wanted before the small, tiny footsteps and the giggles of the two little girls would pull you from your sanctuary of sheets and whispered promises. You loved them dearly, but they had a tendency of interrupting and leaving only the warmth between you and Bruce. The warmth, and the memory of a morning that had started with nothing but love, laughter, and a few well-placed innuendos that would linger far longer than either of you would admit aloud.
The sheets shifted just enough that Bruce leaned against you fully now, his hand sliding lazily and dangerously low. The hum of the morning soft and slow, until a tiny, familiar sound cut through the warmth like a playful warning.
Knock. Knock.
It was a deliberate pattern, and something only you and Bruce knew meant business with it's tiny, confident rhythm that demanded attention.
“Who’s there?” you called, voice sweet and teasing, though your pulse jumped slightly at the reminder that your little ones had already started their day.
“Two princesses!” came the chirped response through the door, high-pitched and brimming with authority, followed by a second, “Open! It's morning!” that carried just enough urgency to make you laugh.
Bruce groaned softly against your shoulder, lips brushing the top of your head. “They’re efficient,” he murmured, voice rough with amusement. “Always on time, never subtle.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw and shooting him a playful wink.
“I think it’s genetic,” he said, smirking, voice low, almost suggestive, the glimmer in his eyes promising he had already decided there would be some more little ones down the line who carried on his drama.
Another set of tiny knocks rapped sharply on the doorframe, accompanied by more high-pitched declarations. “Open! It’s urgent!”
“You hear that?” you asked, rolling onto your side to face him properly, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Urgent. I think we better comply, Mr. Wayne.”
Bruce shifted just slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping him, one hand tracing a slow line from your hip to your waist.
“I suppose the fate of the world — or at least ours — depends on it,” he teased, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. “Shall we answer together?”
You laughed softly, brushing your lips across his in a lazy, teasing kiss. “After you,” you murmured, letting your gaze linger in a way that made him smirk knowingly.
He leaned in anyway, brushing a slow kiss over your mouth, teasing, soft, a whisper of intimacy in the quiet morning, before pulling back just enough to let you hear the tiny voices again.
“Alright... let’s see what all the commotion is about,” he said, tone low though that didn't mask the grin that was spreading across his face.
You both rolled out of the sheets just enough to rise, Bruce’s hand never leaving yours as you moved toward the door. The two of you shared a look that was a quiet acknowledgment.. and acceptance.. of your the fate on the other side of the heavy wooden door.
As soon as the door swung open, your 5 year old barreled in first, arms spread wide as if to tackle both of you in a single move. “Good morninggggg! You two need'ta see what I found!” she shouted gleefully, eyes sparkling with mischief and pride.
Right behind her, the toddler followed with tiny, wobbly determined steps, hands waving wildly as she added, “Daddy! Up! Up!” in a voice that carried the perfect mix of urgency and excitement. She climbed onto Bruce’s leg almost immediately, wrapping her arms around him with all the weight her little chubby body could manage, and he caught her effortlessly, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“And here I thought our quiet morning would last,” Bruce murmured, voice still husky from sleep, brushing a hand through the toddler’s hair, eyes flicking to the older daughter with a mock glare. “You’re conspiring against us, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” your daughter said with the same cheeky grin Bruce sometimes had, “but it’s very important!” She leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically. “We found treasure.”
Bruce tilted his head, pretending to consider the gravity of this announcement. “Treasure, huh?” His hand reached to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple as he shifted the toddler so she rested comfortably against him. “And I suppose this treasure is too valuable for me to see first?”
The toddler let out a tiny squeal in protest at being adjusted, squirming happily in Bruce’s arms as if insisting on being part of the conversation. You laughed softly, brushing a hand down her back.
“I think the adults get to see it together,” you said, voice teasing but full of warmth, leaning into Bruce as he held your youngest securely.
The older daughter sighed dramatically but clearly delighted, hopping in place as she led you both toward the living room, her hands gesturing wildly like a conductor guiding the orchestra. “Follow me! It’s really amazing! You’ll want to see it before anyone else!”
Bruce let out a soft groan, playful and indulgent, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before murmuring, “I don’t know how I survived before I had you girls to ruin my mornings.”
“‘Ruin’ is one word,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his jaw, letting the tip of your nose nudge his cheek. “Brighten is another.” You punctuated your words with a gentle kiss to your toddler's cheek.
He caught your gaze and held it, a slow, private smile tugging at his lips, his hand lingering at your hip just a fraction longer, the warmth between you undeniable even amidst the whirlwind of little stomps and excited chatter, a momentary bubble of intimacy that belonged just to the two of you before the house fully came alive.
“Alright,” Bruce said finally, voice low, rich, and teasing as he shifted the toddler in his arms. “Lead the way, Miss Treasure Hunter. But be warned, if this treasure is anything less than spectacular, there will be consequences.”
The girls erupted in laughter, the sound filling the hallway like sunlight, and you pressed close to Bruce, letting him feel your warmth, your hand finding his, your lips brushing his cheek as you whispered, “You’re going to spoil them too much, y;know.”
He smirked, brushing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not a chance. Someone has to keep them properly… motivated.”
And with that, the four of you moved toward the living room, a soft, chaotic, and absolutely perfect morning unfolding around the two of you.
← MLIST. ᝰ.ᐟ edawgz 2026.
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