Bruce Wayne was royalty in Gotham. He was beautiful—Adonis reincarnated, with his sapphire blue eyes, ebony hair, the handsome cut of his jaw, his skin gilded in the gold of tanning lotion, his rolling hills of muscles, towering over six feet tall, with his countless crisp suits—he looked as if he were conjured from a GQ Magazine cover. When Diana looked at Bruce, she understood why Aphrodite and Persephone feuded over such beauty.
Batman, a heavenly Hades, was harder to know as his desires and wishes were silent, drowned by his need to save others. He was cold and quiet, deep like a cave, though there was good in him—a ribbon of gold sunbeams leaking through the end of a black tunnel.
Diana Prince was the only woman to ever romance both Bruce Wayne and Batman. The only woman whose finger was the right size for the $2.5 million-dollar diamond engagement ring. The only woman whose muscular form fit in a white, flowing dress. The only woman who's not begging him to love her. Diana should be proud Bruce's rare, genuine smiles were aimed at her.
"You make me forget about the crippling sorrow of existence." Bruce told her, while the hard angles of his body was pressed against hers in the near dark. The man's silhouette was haloed by pearls of soft light from the Metropolis radio tower leaking through their penthouse's window. His face was draped in a veil of shadows.
His lips were heavy as they grazed each other's salty mouths. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled back enough to glance into his blue eyes, dyed black by the shroud of night.
"You helped me feel again." He said as he dotted his sentence with a slick, hot press of lips. "I look at you and I just love you. It terrifies me that I would do anything for you.”
His words were a confession and she was an evanescent priestess. She accepted his words with a tempest in her stomach.
“I adore you, Bruce.” Diana said. It sounded like an apology as guilt gnawed at her. Love is patient, she told herself. It’ll come because she really did care about Bruce. He deserved daylight, not the endless night he was reborn into.
Bruce was everything she could ever want in a soulmate, so why did she feel nothing for him but friendship?
I do not love you, but, Hera! How I want to!
Dark opal eyes surrounded by a black, thick border of eyeliner and false lashes long enough to knock birds out of the sky. Satin, pearl skin, clashing with cherry, French sofa plush lips, upturned in a Cheshire smile. Oil slick shiny catsuit showcasing more dangerous curves than an icy mountain road, a zipper dipping low between her pale breasts, as the 21st century Aphrodite moved like water did, effortlessly, flowing, and ethereal.
Diana had cornered Selina Kyle after the woman led her on a chase through Metropolis. Why was the master thief out of Gotham? The curiosity teased Diana until she ran through the shadow-soaked alleyways, keeping in time with the Catwoman, who was as agile as her namesake, on the roofs above her. Catwoman’s form was celestial as the bright pinprick of stars outlined her inky frame.
Diana jumped, landing in front of the Catwoman as Selina skidded to a hard stop. The many yellow eyes of buildings behind Selina made her wet with shadows, though the woman’s smile was spotlight bright and unflinching.
"Is going for a jog a crime?" Selina asked breathlessly. "I've done nothing wrong."
"Silence, Selina Kyle. You are coming with me."
“I think not.” Perfumed oil shot from Catwoman’s claws, slicking under Diana’s feet, making her slip back, with nothing but hard dumpsters waiting for her underneath the edge of the building they were on. A rope coiled around her tighter than a python, halting her fall—Catwoman’s bullwhip. The woman pulled Diana in like a spider drawing in a fly, until Diana’s close enough for her nose to be filled with the scent of minty chewing gum.
“It’s easier to talk if you’re not splattered all over the concrete, darling.” Selina’s warm breath brushed Diana’s lips.
The cold wind blowing in from the river no longer brushed its icy lips across Diana’s face. Her heartbeat sped up. There was molten, liquid gold filling up her body—was she blushing?
Diana could snap the whip and knock their faces together, breaking the Catwoman’s nose until it leaked ruby red. She could smash a knee into the woman’s stomach, sending her recoiling before Diana wrapped Selina’s thin neck in her strong hands. She could lasso the woman and drag her to the authorities, like she’s done so many others.
Selina was close enough to enchant Diana with her rose tinged perfume. Diana didn’t do any of these things and she didn’t know why.
“So, you do like our little chats, mon chérie amour?” Selina’s hot, wet breath caressed Diana’s lips, making them tingle and feel too light. It hit Diana that she didn’t catch Selina, the woman had lured her there.
Diana had captured Selina numerous times over the past two years—mostly letting her go with a warning. She should be ashamed at how easy their conversations had become and how much they had in common, with their shared love of history and art. When the thief was behind bars, she would send Diana letters upon letters, which Diana returned. She’d gotten the last letter a month ago. It brimmed with poetry.
“Super-hunk will be jealous.” Selina said. “Won’t he?”
“No. We are not bonded.” Diana didn’t know why she said that. She couldn’t stop searching Catwoman’s black coffee eyes, which Diana mostly caught a glimpse of while combing through Batman’s data files on Selina Kyle. The honest thief’s photos were many, with countless, countless angles Diana branded into her memory for private moments. Bruce had more photos of Catwoman than any of the other Gotham City rogues in his files. Diana couldn’t bring herself to be jealous, just lucky she could gaze upon Catwoman’s curves at her leisure.
“Good to know.” Selina said as she tightened the rope. “Remind me: how many times have we met this year?”
“This is the third time.” Diana said too quickly.
“Well then, strike three, Diana Prince. It’s game over. I win. Time to collect my prize.”
Selina’s mouth was against Diana’s in a dizzyingly hot press of lips—soft as a kitten’s fur. Catwoman’s flavorful, moist, velvet tongue filled Diana’s mouth with a chaser of minty chewing gum. The bullwhip tightened until it was almost painful, causing Diana to hitch inside of Selina’s mouth. The whip loosened until it slipped off Diana’s body shedding a second skin.
Diana pulled down Selina’s hood as the woman gripped Diana’s hips hard enough to bruise before pulling them together. Their mouths knocked against each other’s as Diana pulled Catwoman’s zipper down her body, traveling past her navel until she met wispy hair. The cold air kissed Selina’s breasts until the soft brown of her nipples were teased into rosebuds. Diana gripped them too hard as their teardrop shape fit perfectly into her palm. Selina hissed into their many, fluttering, kisses.
He pooled between Diana’s thighs as she groaned and tipped her head back when Selina slid her finger under Diana’s skirt, rubbing her clothed entrance. Diana tangled her fingers in the other woman’s cropped, black mane and held. Selina mouthed the apex where Diana’s neck met her shoulder. There was a blunt, pinch of teeth hard enough to leave a rose-colored bruise.
Diana needed Selina inside her—
Bruce’s first thrust made her gasp and arch, pleasure washing over her skin like the wave crashing against the rocks, Selina’s abyss black pupils watch her. She tipped her head back, breathless as she curled her toes, framing her thighs around Bruce’s hips. Her ankles locked behind the back of his thighs. The sweat pebbling between them slicked up the friction of their bodies, causing him to slide deeper into her. She pulled up and kissed Catwoman’s smiling lips, fantasizing she and Selina are connected down there as she groans into Bruce’s open mouth.
Selina’s Bruce thrusts became hard enough to shake the bed as wet, slapping noises came from where they’re joined. She panted encouragements, begs for it harder as Selina’s pace becomes faster. Bruce mumbled something to her as she pushed at his shoulders. When he stopped, she moved to get on her hands and knees.
She tensed when Bruce’s rough hands circled her hips, holding her still as he slid back into her from behind. She gripped the headboard hard enough for the wood to crack and took the punishing pace she asked for as fireworks bloom and fade behind the curtain of her eyelids with every push of hips.
Selina gripped the back of Diana’s neck and pushed her face into the pillow. Selina’s other hand cupped her breasts. Diana felt like she was being bent in half as she pushed back onto Bruce’s cock. Diana reached between her thighs and rubbed herself in time with Selina’s thrust. They rock together, Diana’s moans getting louder and louder as she got closer to glorious release. The inside of her thighs was molten hot, soaked with sweat and come.
One hard roll of Selina’s hips from behind made her shout turn into a loud sob when she came, shaking with pleasure. Bruce stilled, combing his fingers through Diana’s hair. He rocked slowly now, torturing her shuddering body and over sensitive nerves. Her breathy panting echoed off the walls and Selina kept rocking into her until she filled Diana with come.
The fantasy came to an end. Bruce was always awkwardly quiet when they made love, though this time, Diana didn’t mind at all.
Diana was pleasure drunk and heavy as the bed dipped when Bruce laid beside her. They watched each other in the shimmery dark, the far-off fireflies of Metropolis embroidering their black silhouettes in gold. Bruce brushed their silky lips together before he rolled over, turning his back to her.
She turned the other way and watched her shadow self in the vanity mirror. All she saw was Selina Kyle’s grin and heavy eyelids.
Selina zipped her catsuit up to her neck, covering her perfect, goose pimpled breasts. The fumbling touches through the thick material of their armor didn’t do much for them, but Diana feared she was losing herself and stopped. Though, it was just another way to increase the longing, not just for the physical, but for a hunger to get to know the woman behind the feline smile.
“Catch you next time, princess.” Selina smirked before jumping off the building and fading into the night. Diana didn’t pursue. She instead went home to Bruce, begging for release.
Diana slipped the engagement ring off her finger, leaving it on the nightstand near her side of the bed. She then went to the phone in the hallway and pulled out the journal from her purse. She tore a page out of it and in rolling script, she wrote to Adonis.
I must say goodbye. I cannot marry you. I love you, but not in the way you need. I will always have a special place in my heart for you. It’ll hurt right now—goddess knows I am already missing you, though I have faith you will find another who will love you the way you should be loved.
Bruce, please do not blame yourself. There is nothing you could have done differently. It is all my decision. All my fault. You are not difficult to love—I am. You were—are—one of the best experiences in my life. I hope I was not one of the worse in yours.
I will always love you and be there for you as your trusted friend and dutiful ally.
Diana of Themyscira
Diana picked up her battle woven breastplate as she packed her suitcase. A little, dream pink, origami cat fell from it. Diana unfolded it. The note had thick, looping scrawl and a lipstick stain blessing the corner. The rose scent that dominated Diana’s fantasies tickled her nose.
Princess Diana, you knew if you kept feeding me, I’d follow you home. Don’t worry, I already bypassed the locks and by now I’ve made myself comfortable in your bubble pearled bathtub. Hand me a towel?