Standstill
Warnings: non-consent and rape, oral sex, unprotected sex, light chocking, man-handling, drug abuse mentioned, slight knife play, blackmail, stalking, swearing, female reader
Pairing: This is a Dark!Bruce Wayne x Reader x Dark!Helumt Zemo fic. It is going to be dark and no one is going to be nice.
DO NOT PROCEED if any of the above upset you. 18+ only.
Word Count: 6.5k (I got a little carried away)
Summary: As the owner of one of the finest restaurants in Gotham, you deal with the oddities of the rich and powerful daily. One of the strangest things you see is Bruce Wayne and Helmut Zemo taking a table together despite their obvious disdain for each other. You begin to find that staying out of their games is impossible.
Note: This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor dark cross-over challenge. Prompt is "How does a naughty little thing like you look so sweet?" Wanted to push myself and actually post some of the self-indulgent things I write. Hope you enjoy <3
PROCEED WITH CAUTION
You could feel the tension between the two of them from across the room. If you made your way to your office and closed the door, you could still feel it. One day it would all snap. You just knew it.
They had first started this staring contest at the bar. You would never forget that day. It was odd to see Bruce Wayne out for a drink by himself. His face was as hard as stone, and his brown eyes narrowed. He drummed his fingers against the blank granite counter. Zemo was on the other end of the bar. You hadn't noticed him until he approached Bruce. Then, as the days went on, they slowly started to sit closer and closer until they took a table together.
From a glance, it was hard to tell they hated each other. When they talked, they gave each other painted smiles. But you could see the cold stares and hear the low tones of their voices. In fact, you were probably the only one who was aware of their disdain for each other.
Why they came to your restaurant to have these odd quiet stare downs was beyond you. Sometimes they would call you over to settle a minor dispute. It was always something incredibly petty, like if Superman could defeat the Hulk or if red wine was better then white wine. The arguments never ended with a winner; you didn't care enough to agree with either of them.
That night you really didn't have time to stand there and nod politely. It was hectic, and everything seemed to be falling apart. Maybe if they weren't so busy with their stupid dick-measuring contests, they would have noticed and left you alone. Perhaps they noticed but just didn't care.
"Mr. Wayne wants to see you," said the waitress you had assigned to their table. You had hired the most gorgeous woman you could find solely to put her at that table. You hoped and prayed that she would be enough that you could catch a break tonight. Looks like they were stupid as well as blind.
You groaned and ran a hand over your face. You were at the front of the restaurant trying to figure out how to deal with a double booking.
"I'm so sorry, I know you are busy. But it's Bruce Wayne, the Bruce Wayne. I tried to ask him if there was anything wrong with the service, but he wouldn't tell me. I think I might have poured the wine on the wrong side. I'm so sorry, I'm still trying to figure that out!" The poor girl would not stop playing with her hair and constantly shifted from one leg to the other.
You held a hand to stop her. "It's nothing to do with you. This is just something he does. Don't sweat it. I can take care of it from here. Could you tell Andrew to come deal with this double booking? If he gives you any shit, be sure to let him know that I know he screwed it up."
She gave a stiff nod. Her lips were pursed in a thin line, and her eyes were wide.
"Thank you, but if it's about the wine..."
"If it is, it's the least of my worries. I will honestly probably forget it two seconds after I hear about it. Now go."
She hurried off, and you gave a deep sigh. You printed off one check for each of them, hoping you might be able to use it to get them to leave. You really needed an open table. You put your pen down slowly, savoring each second you were not at that table. Running a hand over the smooth black table, you reminded yourself you put with this rich people shit to have nice table. You finally had no choice but to make your way over. They were deep in conversation when you arrived.
"Good evening gentlemen, is there something I can help you with?" When you spoke, their gazes snapped towards you. It was as if they were racing to look at your first. Both of them always gave you unnerving stares. You never got used to it.
"Ah yes, it seems we have another bet that only you can settle," Zemo said, smirking at you over his wine.
"Yes, we need to prove to the Baron here that he doesn't understand people half as well as he claims," Bruce's lips pulled into a smile, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Interesting that you would claim to have a superior knowledge of human behavior," Zemo leaned back in the black cushioned seat. "After all, you spend most of your time in the minds of criminals."
This was the strangest of all of the things Zemo had said about Bruce. You couldn't understand why he would assume Bruce did that. Bruce never spoke about hobbies; you assumed he didn't have time for them. If Zemo was trying to make Bruce look bad in front of you, he was wasting his time.
Bruce's jaw tensed, and his fake smile fell. His hand gripping his drink tightened. Zemo's dark eyes brightened, and his smirk grew wider. He took his time basking in the tense silence before speaking again.
"Maybe you think so highly of your claim because you think this beautiful lady is a criminal. In which case, you couldn't be farther from the truth. She is much too sweet for such things." Zemo gestured towards you with his glass. His eyes brazenly ran up and down your form.
"Don't put words in my mouth," Bruce said in a low voice. His tone sent a shiver down your spine. You were scared of him, and his words were not directed at you. "If we apply the same logic to you, do you assume she is a super soldier? Your study of them is obsessive at best."
They were threatening each other, but you weren't sure what they were threatening each other with. The tension was so thick you found it hard to breathe. You found yourself searching for a way to relieve the pressure.
"Well, maybe I am both a super soldier and a criminal," you said with a nervous laugh. But, if anything, the tension thickened. You could see out of the corner of your eye one of your waiters. He was frantically pacing, waiting for you to end your conversation. "Yes, see, I am both. Now, if that is all... "You moved your arm to set the check down.
"Apologies, it seems we have gotten off track. Unfortunately, that was not the bet we needed to settle," Zemo said with a sigh. You moved your hand back and groaned inwardly.
"We have a more pressing question," Bruce said, his shoulders relaxing only slightly. You weren't sure what was more pressing than super soldiers and criminals.
"How long has it been since you've had someone in your bed, darling?" Zemo asked with a sly smirk. His tone suggested he was asking about something trivial, but his eyes said otherwise.
Your eyes snapped into a glare, and your fingers gripped the check tightly. They had both worn your patience to dust. Their money and prestige seemed to disappear before your eyes. Now you were just dealing with rich and entitled men.
"I would say six months given that you have recently developed this horrible habit of sleeping in your office," Zemo continued. Your eyes narrowed. Either your employees were gossiping, or Zemo had gone out of his way to know that. "Mr. Wayne here is adamant that it's longer."
"Fourteen months," Bruce said, giving a firm nod. You felt your nostrils flare. Bruce was absolutely right, and it unnerved you. Your last relationship had not been something you advertised since your his boss.
"I simply cannot believe it has been that long," Zemo shook his head in mock surprise. "Not for a beautiful woman such as yourself."
"That's flattering, but that information is not important," you said, shaking your head.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Bruce said, but that did not help you feel better. "It's a way of proving who understands you better."
"I don't see how this is at all relevant to my restaurant," you said, folding your arms across your chest. "I work here, and I let my work speak for itself."
"Such confidence," Zemo held up his glass in mock salute. "Spoken like a woman who has been able to seduce a man in the past six months."
"Sounds more like a woman who has had nothing but work on her mind for fourteen months," Bruce countered. It was as if he couldn't help himself. If he had a chance to prove Zemo wrong, he had to take it.
You wished they were back to the Hulk vs. Superman argument. At least that had nothing to do with you. It was challenging to find a way to politely tell these two influential customers to shut up.
"Not all of us have hobbies that take up our evenings," Zemo said as his gaze traveled back to the man across from him. "Most of us can work and indulge in whatever pleases us afterward. This is something you wouldn't understand, which is why your number is wrong."
There it was again, the tensed jaw and steely glare. "Most of us have hobbies that don't involve the takedown of an organization. This would mean one can stay in one place and take time to get to know people. Fourteen is a more realistic number. But it's something you would not be able to understand."
"You're both wrong," you said with such authority you almost believed yourself. You slammed the check on the table. "I've been fucking my head chef in my office for months now."
It was a complete lie, but you didn't care. It was the only way you felt you could take back control of the situation. You quickly turned and stalked off. The waiter you had seen from before walked with you.
"Adam is having another breakdown," he whispered, his breath coming out in pants as he tried to keep up with you. "He's threatening to quit again."
Anger boiled inside of you. Not at Adam, your head chef couldn't help himself. It was all directed at those two idiots who took up so much of your time for nothing.
You stopped at the black counter of the bar. You stared at the beautiful bottles on display behind the counter; the green lights twinkled behind them to make them look even more enticing. Of course, you knew it was all for show, but it made you so badly want a drink.
"I can take care of Adam," you said after taking a deep breath. You turned and looked him dead in the eye. He took a step back as you took a step towards him. He seemed to shrink in your presence. "But I am not to be disturbed by anything else. Not even if we are being robbed. If the restaurant is on fire, I don't want to know until the fire department gets here."
He stared back at you. You took the silence poorly.
"Well? Is that understood?" you snapped.
He nodded frantically. "P..perfectly. Yes, understood. Sorry!" He stammered out a few more words and scampered away. You immediately regretted your outburst. You tried to treat your staff kindly. Your customers were all upper class, and your team had to deal with their oddities all the time. The two men you had just dealt with were a perfect example.
You made a mental note to apologize later. But, for now, you had a fire to put out.
-------
Adam was having a fit about the rosemary. It took way too long to get him to calm down. Then, after he had, only you could go to his apartment and pick the right sprigs. Only you. No one else. Because that was how Adam was.
You grumbled under your breath the way there and the way back. If Adam weren't such a genius, you would have fired him, but not before making his life miserable.
As you had feared, all of the issues had piled up when you returned. Even after closing, you couldn't make your way to your office. You were constantly interrupted by employees. They requested time off, complaints about other co-workers, complaints about a customer-it was never-ending.
They finally let you be when their shifts were over. You found yourself alone for the rest of the night, as usual. It was three in the morning. You would need to go to the market in three hours. Adam would only have the best fish. And if you wanted him to work, it better be the best.
You used to have other people doing these things. But they had all slowly left. The first one had been your now ex. It had been hard to sit down and find a replacement for him. Now it was impossible to find the time. And training someone to pick good salmon and deal with snootty customers took even more time you didn't have.
This was why you had started sleeping in your office, only going back to your apartment to shower before lunch. How had Zemo known that? Was it just that obvious?
You made your way to lock the front door. Tugging on it two times to make sure it was secure. Then you went to the bar to indulge in one of those pretty bottles behind the counter. You mixed a drink with expert ease. You gave a content sigh as you poured it into a glass.
"How does a naughty little thing like you look so sweet?" A cold, rough voice purred from behind you.
You jumped, startled. Half of your drink splattered onto the floor. You gave a dejected sigh. It took you a full second before you remembered. No one was supposed to be here.
You spun around to see Zemo sitting on a barstool directly across from you. His fingers were laced together, resting on the counter. He gave you a satisfied smirk as your eyes widened. You hadn't heard him come in or sit down. You gave a hard blink hoping it was just your mind playing tricks on you. But he was still there. Anger and fear rushed through you.
"We're closed," you said, mustering up as much authority as you could.
"But the bar still seems to be in service," he said with such confidence that you doubted yourself for a split second.
"This is my bar. I can use it as I please," you said, turning away from him again. You took a towel and bent down to clean up your mess. You needed to do something with this nervous energy.
"Having a drink before driving home, I would say that's very naughty. What would the staff say?"
You could feel his eyes on your backside. You jerked up to glare at him but missed him in the act. Instead, his eyes met your own.
"What would the police say when I call them?" you snapped. His thin lips stretched into a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. Every one of your customers probably had Gotham's finest paid off in some way. You should have known better. You sighed and shook your head. "I don't have time for this. Please leave."
"Why don't you pour me a drink, and we can have a pleasant chat?" he countered.
"No. I only have so many hours before I have to work again," you grumbled, whipping down invisible spots off the counter in front of you. "If you leave now, I will maybe let you back in tomorrow evening for another one of your dates with Mr. Wayne."
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his smile fall. His entire face seemed to tense at the mere mention of Bruce.
"If I could shake off Bruce's vigilant presence, we would have had this conversation much sooner. But, lucky for us, some very dangerous people broke out of Arkham Asylum tonight. So I have you all to myself."
This time you turned to face him. Your eyebrows raised. "What in the hell are you talking about?"
He gave a lazy shrug. "Let me pour you a proper drink," he said, sliding off the barstool and making his way over to you.
Your legs were frozen. All you could do was stare in horror as he made his way to your spot behind the counter. He had so easily positioned himself right in front of the only way out. He took one of your most expensive bourbons off the shelf. He looked at the label and slowly poured some in a glass.
You could only watch his slow, methodical movements. You toyed with the idea of just pushing him out of the way. But you weren't sure you were strong enough for that to do any good.
He was soon right in front of you. He was so close you could smell the bourbon from the glass and a whiff of his cologne.
"I haven't seen you try this. It's one of your better choices," Zemo held out the drink expectantly. When you didn't take it right away, he took a sip from it himself. "Here, I'm sure it will be more palatable to you now."
You looked down at the drink. Your stomach was tied up in complicated knots. You were finally beginning to understand what he was here for. You were embarrassed you hadn't realized sooner and terrified that you couldn't get him to stop.
"Look, Zemo. I'm not interested. Please just leave," you said, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.
He took a small step closer. Your low back was pressed against the lower counter; it began digging painfully into you. But you continued to push against it to get as far back as you physically could.
"You just need something to loosen you up," he said in a low voice. He took your hand and pressed the glass into it. It dug sharply into your palms. "Let me help you relax." He guided the glass to your lips.
You let the liquid slide down your throat. You kept your eyes wide and your gaze on him. The drink burned your throat. The situation was so odd, you didn't even realize how it tasted. He finally pulled back the glass.
"Isn't that better?" he asked. He put a hand on your cheek and studied your face with sharp brown eyes. He made you feel small and weak. He looked down at you like he knew so much about you. He probably even knew things you didn't know.
"Look, Zemo I…" he cut you off with a harsh kiss. The glass fell to the floor with a piercing shatter. Your eyes were wide in shock, and your heart dropped. You had not expected him to just kiss you. No one had ever kissed you like this like they owned you.
His hands wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weakly gripped at his suit jacket, desperate for anything to hold onto. You heard him give a sharp exhale through his nose at the simple touch. His hands began to wander lower down your back. His tongue gently pressed against your lips.
This was all too much for you. You grabbed more of his suit jacket in your hands. Finally, you gave a sharp tug pulling him towards the left, freeing yourself from being trapped against the counter. Then you pushed.
You heard a large crash, but you didn't stick around to see how much money you had just lost. You just ran. The kitchen was too far away, and you did not have the keys to unlock the front door. So you dashed down the short hallway to your office. Your master plan was to barricade yourself in there and use your desk phone to call for help.
You slammed the door shut and locked it quickly. You let out short, desperate breaths. The office was pitch black. It felt like the darkness was pressing against your shoulders and neck. You took a deep, shaky breath. You were trying to slow your breathing so you could hear noises beyond the door.
You pressed your ear against the door, your fingers still gripping the lock tightly. It took a moment before your heart stopped beating wildly. You heard nothing beyond the familiar hum of the building. Even so, you were going to push your desk in front of the door and call the police. You may even call Adam, who could be formidable if he was high out of his mind.
You pulled away from the door and flicked on the light switch. When you turned, you were startled back against the door by a large figure sitting at your desk chair. You let out a strangled yelp, and your hands flew to your mouth.
Bruce Wayne was sitting at your desk. He leaned back in the chair as if you had invited him to use it. The corner of his mouth twitched into a mischievous smile. But the small smile was far from his cold dark eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" you gasped out; all sense of propriety was gone.
"I could ask you the same question," he said, giving a shrug. "You really should be at your apartment. You closed an hour ago."
You had already played this game with Zemo, and you were not going to do it again. Your eyes snapped into a glare. You charged towards your desk, reaching for the phone. He leaned forward and snatched your wrist.
He slowly stood and circled the desk. His hand and eyes stayed on you. He was so much stronger and menacing than you had thought. You immediately felt smaller in his presence.
As soon as he was in range, his other hand flew to your neck. You let out a squeak. He didn't squeeze, but just the feel of his large hand around your throat made you catch your breath. He roughly guided you to the wall and shoved you against it.
You let out a gasp. You used your free hand to try and pry his cold, rough hand off your neck. Your other arm was pinned against the wall. The look in his eyes made your stomach drop. He was imagining what he was going to do to you. You weren't sure what it was, but you didn't want to play out this fantasy with him.
"Let me go," you whimpered, digging your nails in his wrist.
"I don't see that drug addict chef here. He's at home high as a kite as he always is," his, voice was low, and he tightened his grip on your throat. You let out a strangled cry. "Now, why would you lie about something like that? Are you purposely trying to push my buttons?"
You shook your head as best as you could. Tears were beginning to form at the corners of your eyes.
"You see when you tell me things like that. It sounds like you are just begging me to come to your office and find out if it's true." His hand released the arm that was pinned against the wall. He let his hand travel down your waist, sending shivers down your spine. You used your free hand to join the desperate attempt to get his hand off your throat.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you choked out.
"I think you do," he growled. His hand was sliding dangerously close to the area in between your legs. "I can show you just how much you…."
The lock on the door clicked. You and Bruce turned towards the sound at the same time. You had an idea of who it might be. But all the same, you prayed to anything that could hear that it was help.
When Zemo opened the door, Bruce's grip on your throat tightened. You let out a strangled gasp in response. Zemo titled his head. He looked more puzzled than surprised at the scene before him. He let out a sharp breath through his nose.
"This seems a tad aggressive, but I get it she's a delicious little thing," Zemo purred. Then his eyes snapped into a glare. "But if you indulge in this any further, I will let all of Gotham know of your late-night hobbies. And I am not referring to assaulting a certain restaurant owner."
Bruce finally released his hands from your neck. You let out a gasp and began to cough. He barely gave you time to recover before pulling you into a headlock. He pressed your back against his chest and turned to fully face Zemo. You let out a pathetic whimper and grabbed his arm. You were overwhelmed by his scent and the feel of his hard chest pressed against you.
"Is that it? Is that really the only thing you have on me?" Bruce asked. You could hear the beginnings of a smile on his mouth.
"We can start with telling the world you are Batman, then I can show the rest of what I know if that's what you really want," Zemo said. "Or you can leave without the girl. And your secret's safe with me." He gestured towards the door.
Your mind was going haywire. You weren't sure if Bruce really was Batman or if Zemo had planted evidence to destroy Bruce's life. It was one of the few times you could have cared less. You just wanted to get out of this in one piece.
"Interesting, well, if you don't leave this office," Bruce began coldly. "I have a way of letting a certain group know about the research you've been doing. In fact, I could get a hold of the Winter Soldier before you step foot out of this office. What happens to your plan then?"
Zemo's jaw tensed. You hoped that maybe this was too much for both of them. Maybe Bruce would let you go, and they both would walk out, leaving you alone.
"If both of you leave," you gasped out. "You can keep your secrets. I will not tell anyone what happened or what I heard." There was a tense silence. You could almost hear the gears in their brains spinning. But Bruce made no move to loosen his grip, and Zemo made no move towards the door.
"My darling, you are correct. It seems we have reached an impasse," Zemo finally said with a sigh.
"It seems we have," Bruce agreed.
"But you are mistaken to think you have anything to leverage," Zemo held your gaze and slammed the door shut. You jumped in Bruce's grasp at the sound. "There are plenty of things I have beyond your head chef's cocaine habit. I can't even begin to imagine what Batman would have. What he could do to you, to your precious restaurant."
Bruce's silence was more than enough to make your blood run cold. Zemo began to walk towards you. You backed up as much as you could against Bruce's chest. Zemo's kiss still burned your lips.
"For one night, Bruce, do you think we can agree to play nice?" Zemo asked. He traced a finger down your cheek. "I can hold off planning your demise if you can hold off on planning mine."
There was a heavy pause. Bruce's grip on your neck loosened, but it wasn't near enough for you to work with.
"Fine," Bruce answered gruffly. "Just this once. If you touch her after this, I will kill you."
"I would like to see you try to kill me, but another time perhaps," Zemo's dark eyes were staring into yours. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Bruce finally moved his arm from around your neck, if only to keep his distance from Zemo. Zemo grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you deeper into the kiss.
Your body went rigid. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to plan your next move. The smell of both of their colognes intertwined in your nose and overwhelmed you. If you weren't scared out of your mind, it would have smelled comforting.
You could feel Bruce watching intently. He finally seemed to snap out of it and let his hands wander. One hand grabbed your ass, and you gasped. Zemo's tongue took advantage and slid into your mouth.
You let out a pathetic whimper against his lips. Your first thought was to bite down. You wanted so badly to, but Bruce was right behind you. You wondered if he would intervene and punish you, or would he enjoy it?
Zemo broke the kiss before you could act on that thought. You let out a pathetic gasp for air. His mouth began to travel down your neck, biting and sucking wherever he could. You moved your head to cut off his access to your neck.
But Bruce roughly grabbed the side of your chin. He pulled your face to the left and leaned over to slam his lips against yours. He was giving Zemo more access to your neck. Zemo took full advantage of it, his lips and teeth only touching the most sensitive parts.
Bruce grabbed your hip and pressed you more firmly against him. His tongue forced entrance into your mouth. He tasted good, and you hated it. You remembered the feel of his hands against your neck. His hands had been so rough with you over such a trivial thing.
Zemo's mouth began to travel further down your neck to the area above your chest. He began to unbutton your dress shirt. After the first two, your hands found his. You tried to swat his hands away. What little bare skin was showing made you shiver with cold. Zemo snatched one hand, and Bruce took the other.
Zemo was able to easily unbutton your shirt with one hand. He took his time, feeling every inch of skin that peaked through. You squeezed your eyes shut. You couldn't stand the look on Zemo's face when he held your breasts in his hands.
Something began to tear near your chest. Your eyes flashed open to see Zemo running a knife along your bra. You tried to move your head away from Bruce to break the kiss, but he only held your face tighter. He gave a low growl in his throat as a warning. But you ignored it. You frantically tugged at their grasps and tried to slam your foot on either of your attackers. Bruce was able to move away with ease.
"Be careful. We don't want to cut this beautiful skin," Zemo whispered, running a hand up your bare skin. "Not this way."
Bruce finally broke the kiss. You took a deep hungry breath of air. "Put the knife away," he growled.
"I'm not quite done yet," Zemo pressed, cutting away at what remained of your bra. Bruce pulled you further away from Zemo with a vicious tug of the arm around your throat. Your bra fell to the floor, and your nipples immediately hardened in the cold air.
"No. No weapons. I don't care if it's the only thing that gets you hard," Bruce's voice was low, and it rattled in your ears. "I wouldn't put it past you to stab me when I'm inside her."
Zemo gave a defeated sigh and shook his head. "I see the rumors of your open-mindedness in bed were false." He let the knife clatter to the floor, his eyes fixed on your chest. Even with it on the floor, you didn't feel any safer.
In the blink of an eye were you pinned to the desk. Your breath caught in your chest at the force of which you were slammed against the hardwood.
The two men loomed over you. Bruce stood next to your legs while Zemo was to your left, his eyes still fixed on your chest. You made a move to sit up once you caught your breath. But Zemo grabbed your arms in one hand and pinned them above you.
Before you could think about kicking, Bruce grabbed your thighs and shoved them apart. He hiked up your skirt, running his hand along a bare thigh. Zemo's free hand was on your breast, giving it a rough squeeze.
So many hands were on you at once had your head spinning. You were overwhelmed with feelings of dread and the warmth growing in your stomach.
"Stop, please!" you begged as Zemo gave your nipple a pinch. It was futile, but you hoped that maybe the words would chase away the tight coil of pleasure that was beginning to form.
"You say that," Bruce said with a smirk. "But I can prove otherwise." He pulled your panties aside and slid a finger inside you with ease. An embarrassing, squelching noise filled the room. You gave a sharp cry and arched your back at the intrusion. You tried to move your arms or legs, but both were held in even tighter grips.
"A beautiful sound," Zemo muttered as he took your nipple in his mouth. You held back a gasp and squeezed your eyes shut. You desperately tried to think of something, anything to distract yourself from these unwelcome feelings.
Bruce pulled your panties off in one smooth motion. Through half-closed eyes, you watched him stuff them in his pants pocket. His hands were back on your thighs again, giving them deceptive gentle caress.
Zemo pulled your lips into another hungry kiss. You could only feel Bruce's breath against your inner thigh. Your legs tensed as you realized what he was going to do. His tongue gave a gentle flick inside you before he began to devour you.
You let out a panicked moan that was muffled by Zemo's mouth. You could feel Zemo's lips curl against yours in a smirk. He broke the kiss and, with one hand, began to hurriedly remove his tie. He used it to tie your hands together above your head. Even after he finally let your hands go, it felt like they were still being pressed against the desk.
You arched your back and gave a gasp as Bruce added a thick finger to his assault on you. Your eyes widened, and you tried to focus on the ceiling to stop yourself from making more noises. But Bruce's skill with his tongue continued to drag them out of you.
Zemo had removed a large hard throbbing cock from his pants. You hadn't noticed since you were so wrapped up in Bruce's administrations. You opened your mouth to protest, but he took it as an invitation. In one fluid motion, it was in your mouth. You let out a strangled gag, immediately tasting precum against your tongue.
"What a wonderful mouth," Zemo said with a shaky breath. He started to thrust slowly. "But if there are any teeth, there will be trouble."
Bruce gave your outer thigh a harsh spank at those words. It took everything inside you not to clamp your jaw over the cock in your mouth. You could feel the disappointment from Bruce when you let out a muffled gasp. He finally removed his tongue and fingers from your pussy. You felt a sense of relief that you only had to focus on one attack on your senses. But the relief was short-lived.
Your mind reeled when you felt him at your entrance. He had just started, and you already felt him stretching you. You let out a whine in protest. You wanted to push him away or to at least beg him to wear a condom.
He was slow as he entered you, but it was still too much for you. Every centimeter he pushed, you felt you couldn't take anymore. His eyes were laser-focused on how you took him, and his hands gripped your legs tightly. He bottomed out with a groan. You let out a pathetic whine. There was no way he could move with you so tight around him. You were sure you would break. You couldn't take him like this.
"You're so tight," Bruce breathed, and he began to move at a brutal pace. Zemo gave you no room for comfort. He continued to move in your mouth without mercy and seemed to enjoy the panicked noises that came from your mouth against his cock.
You were sure you could never sit at this desk again after this. You would never be able to look at its surface without recalling how it felt to move against it with Bruce inside you. You wouldn't be able to look at the painting on the wall without remembering seeing it while Zemo's cock was in your mouth.
The familiar feeling of something tightening in your stomach returned. You almost wanted to push it away, but it was a stronger sensation this time. It made you burn for release. Bruce seemed to realize this and rubbed your clit with skilled fingers. You switched your attention to Zemo's cock, but the fire only burned brighter. You felt yourself burn with pleasure and shame. You knew that you couldn't help it and you just hoped and prayed that they wouldn't notice when you came.
Pleasure crashed over you in a heavy wave. For a brief moment, all you could think and feel was your sweet release. You clenched around Bruce with a vice grip. Muffled cries came out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Bruce gave a strangled groan, and for a split second, his pace faltered. But he regained his composure quickly, a sneer on his lips. Zemo tightened his grip on your hair, looking down at you with a triumphant smirk. They didn't need to say anything. They both knew.
Hot ropes of cum filled your mouth without warning. Zemo let out an unsteady breath and sank deeper into your mouth, holding you tightly against him. You swallowed it all without thinking. It was difficult to function under the brutal pace Bruce had set.
Zemo finally stopped his movements, but he did not pull out of your mouth. You pulled your head back in a desperate attempt to take a deep breath, but he tightened his grip on you in a warning. He was staring down at your ravaged pussy with intense concentration. His cock still rock hard in your mouth.
Bruce finally came inside you with a strangled groan. He gave a few slow, painful thrusts as he emptied himself into you. You clenched onto him as if you would fall apart if he left you empty. You hated that the pressure was building inside of you again. It took all your strength not to grind your hips against him.
Zemo finally released your head and left your mouth. You let out a gasp as you could finally take full breaths. You closed your eyes tightly in shame as Bruce pulled out of you. The air felt cold and lonely around your lower body. You hoped they had their fill and would leave you alone.
But you were penetrated again with a quick sharp thrust. You gave a panicked gasp. You opened your eyes to see Zemo already inside of you.
"No! Wait!" Were the only two words you could say before you moaned pathetically.
"I've already waited for long enough, darling," Zemo growled as he pounded you without mercy. His arms holding your legs in a tight grip.
The fact that another man was inside you so soon after the first made the pressure build even faster. You bit your lip trying to think of something, anything, just not this. Bruce's cum soaked cock was in your line of sight.
"Clean up the mess you made," Bruce ordered in a low voice. He gave you no time to comply. He slid into your mouth with a rough thrust. You moaned against his throat, and he let out a low groan. The taste of his and your cum filled your mouth.
"I don't think you're going to last long, darling," Zemo said with a wicked glint in his eye. His finger brushed against your clit. "If you would stop fighting it, you would be on your third and not second one now." He gave a disappointed sigh. "But alas, you are too stubborn. Such a shame."
He leaned forward and thrust deeper into you. You let out a pathetic cry against Bruce's cock. Your clenched your bound hands into fists. The muffled words that came out of your mouth were 'Don't stop.' For once, you were grateful they wouldn't leave your mouth alone.
"So close," Zemo whispered. "Just let go."
You hated that you listened, but you could not help yourself. You let go and came again with a more intense wave of pleasure. Zemo leaned back with a smirk and continued his thrusts as you came. Your eyes widened, but all you could see was white. All you could feel was the two cocks thrusting into you.
You lay still in the aftermath of your orgasm in confusion and shame. The pleasure was still building. You loved it and wanted it to stop all at once. Zemo finally finished inside you with a growl. Bruce followed soon after, commanding you in a sharp voice to swallow.
Even after all this, you had a sinking feeling it was only the beginning.
