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#Gordan Merkel x Reader
emmyrosee · 2 years
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Gordon Merkel
I WOULDN’T BE CAUGHT DEAD IN IT.
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fanfics
n/a
drabbles
Patch Up
Comfort
Stop Smiling At Me
My Sunshine
NSFW Content. Reader Discretion Advised. Minors Do Not Interact.
Little Bunny
Rough
Time Apart
Taking Care Of Him
Interrogation
Soft dominance 
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kn1feinthec0ffee · 4 years
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my rec list!!
fluff:
literally anything by @emmyrosee & @babyboy-cody u guys know how much ily and the fluff is SO SWEET 🥰
exchanging gifts by @spacedikut this is SOSO CUTE I LOVE IT WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING
linen and love by @gaymemeaesthetic this makes me SO soft i love cuddly spencer 🥺🥺
sweater weather by @beautiful-writings pure precious softness 
give love a try by @railmereid idek where to start but this is so sickeningly sweet and i absolutely adore diana trying to set them up its so precious & and morgan seeing how in love he is just makes me 🥺🥺🥺
angst:
to anyone who might care by @zhuzhubii this is so well written and realistic and just anything w spence & animals makes me 🥺
smut (under the cut):
(i don’t reblog a ton of smut but i have a couple recent faves)
@skrsgardspam the entire willard tings tag ohmyGOD
avoidance by @criminalmindzjunkie seriously i loved this SO MUCH sub!spence is my jam and this was everything to me
you ask me what i’m thinking about by @fellintotartarus idek what to say except i love this sososososososo much 
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sorry to anyone who didn’t consent to being tagged in this but i just want everyone to feel appreciated 😊😊😊
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hecohansen31 · 5 years
Note
Or ANYTHING Gordon Merkel, because he doesn't get enough love/content..
(A/N): Hello there, lovely!
AND IT IS INDEED TRUE THAT OUR DOITCHLAND BABE DOESN’T GET ENOUGH LOVE... AHHH I JUST WANT TO WRAP MY HANDS AROUND HIM AND NEVER EVER LET GO!
But on more important topics!
Ahh I hope you’ll like this, it is low key similar to the Axel’s one, but... I have just had a bad case of baby fever... what can I say?
WARNINGS: Mention of Light Angst and Separation/Sex/A Child Who Doesn’t Want To Sleep.
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Merkel softly raised from bed, trying not to wake you up.
You honestly deserved it, since these days you had been barely able to sleep one entire night, the baby needing you for food or a change of diapers.
That night Merkel had come home late, after he had dealt with some things.
Illegal things he didn’t want you or the small baby in the next room to be involved in.
When you had told him that you were pregnant he had been honestly scared of what the cruel world out there might do to you and the baby, and had even rejected you for quite some months till he had seen you around with the bump, pretty visible.
So visible that anybody who would have liked hurting him, could see it.
Hence, he had thought that you might be more protected at his home.
You hadn’t accepted it at first and had made Merkel go through hell before you allowed him to touch your pregnant belly, but when you had felt the first contractions you had gripped onto your hand, delivering the baby in a small private hospital as he brought away drenched strands of hair from your forehead.
‘You are doing so so amazingly, hase’ he had muttered against it ‘… just another push and you’ll have our baby, our pretty baby’.
You had shouted at him, but a few minutes later, crying had overcome your voice and you had both grown silent in front of the miracle of life: a pink puppy with a small smirk on her face.
You had had an healthy girl, Merkel insisting on naming her Adele, which meant for ‘nobility’ and you hadn’t been able to disagree since she was already ‘the princess of your house’, constantly waking you up at late hours and wanting to be fed at any hour of the day.
‘Don’t you think that she’ll grow fat?’ you had once, as your small girl bounced on your laps, clapping her small hands at you and Merkel, who was playing with her, showing and hiding his face and making random faces.
‘…no, absolutely!’ Merkel had retorted immediately, smirking gently at you ‘… she’ll be as pretty as her moma, won’t you little one’.
And little Adele had just giggled, alongside you.
He wasn’t able to spend much time with you, not as much as he wanted, but the wall was slowly coming to its breaking, he could feel it, and then he would abandon everything, get you and small Adele in the first suburban house he could find and work his way through peace and happiness.
But in the meanwhile he could make it up to you with breakfast in bed, letting you sleep softly the hours of sleep you had lost for taking care of your child, on who he checked as he went to get breakfast ready, finding the little one, barely a few months old in her crib, sleeping softly and he just had to lower himself to give her a kiss.
As he got up, he saw you, looking at him lovingly from the threshold of the nursery, a small smirk on your face as you adjusted his small fur jacket around your shoulder, to keep yourself warm in the cold hour of the morning.
“You should be sleeping” he commented, a reprimand although the softness in his tone.
It made you smirk coming closer to your lover as you softly hugged him from behind.
“… couldn’t… I already see you so little…” you muttered softly, nuzzling his back softly “… I want to cherish you for as little as I can”.
His heart tightened at your words.
“… it won’t always be like this” he muttered softly “…I swear that once…”.
“It’s ok babe” you softly muttered, kissing the back of his neck, raising on your tiptoes “… I don’t mind waiting, I got this little buddy to make me company”.
And Adele slightly moved in her bed, making you both hold your breath worried that she might wake up, again.
But she turned softly and started sleeping again, making you both utter a huff of relief.
“I wanted to make you breakfast” breathed softly Merkel, trying to lower his voice not to wake her.
“I’d prefer to spend the morning in bed with you” you replied softly, making him turn to you “… the doctor also cleared out the fact that we can get down and dirty again”.
And he felt immediately ready, enticed by the softness of your curves and the smirking smile on your face.
But then you yawned, remembering him that you might act all tough, but your body wanted some calm.
“… then go wait for me in bed, I’ll bring you breakfast and maybe…” he gently moved closer to you, till his lips brushed against your ears, making you shiver lightly “… maybe we’ll get down and dirty”.
And he thought he never saw you sprint faster away.
He sent a last look to the beautiful still-sleeping Adele, before he moved to the kitchen.
When he came back to bring breakfast to you (and maybe eat his own ‘breakfast’…
… you were asleep on your shared bed, completely passed out.
He just moved to sit beside you, pushing the tray on the small table next to you.
And then fell asleep beside you, finally feeling like he had all the time of the world with you.
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nikky-the-writer · 6 years
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The last man standing
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Part 1
A/N: This is posted from the Queue!! The rest will be posted after September!!!!
Summary: AU
You are an assassin that’s been running from something from your past, what will happen when it’s starts catching on you? To whom will you be able to trust, while everyone is trying to kill you?
Warnings:  cursing, blood, shooting, fighting….
Masterlist
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If somebody ever told you that you will be in the position that you were now, you would call them crazy. You weren’t the person that needed other peoples help or who would beg for their life, you were the one who did jobs for others; taking lives in the process. However now, you were lying on the ground with your back leaned against the tire of your crushed car as you stared at the person you once trusted. Your abdomen was bleeding just as your face from all the cuts and beating.
You knew that this was it for you, the final moment, there were no moves left; the only thing you could wait for it was for him to pull the trigger.
˝I’m sorry, but it’s nothing personal.˝
It was personal to you, but you wished it wasn’t so you closed your eyes not wanting to see somebody who you loved pulling the trigger. The last thing you heard after his words was the gunshot and that was it. That was the end of the life you once knew.
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A few days earlier
There was something on your mind the whole night that didn’t let you close your eyes for more than ten minutes. Something was making you feel sick like it was warning you that everything in your life was too quiet for too long. It had to happen once; it wouldn’t be realistic if it never occurs. You did bad things every day, you killed and tricked people for money and you were one of the best because you were taught by the best.
Your eyes were focused on the white ceiling while lying on your back. The sun was rising slowly as you tried to stay calm not to worry about something that is still not a threat to you. Although you wished that you were alone for a moment to gather your thoughts you weren’t. The steady breaths of dark haired man and his strong arm that was around your waist kept you aware of his presences, it was like that for a few months now, you never thought that you would try to settle down with somebody after what happened to you in the past, but you were trying. Sometimes your own faults hunt you more than the people whose lives you took, but that was probably because you lost everything in your life. You knew the real pain and it made you hollow, the shell of who you used to be, but still, the person who could love someone if you tried hard enough.
 You were brought back from your thoughts when one of yours phone vibrated. Neither of you reached for it and he only pulled you closer to him.
˝I should get up˝, you said trying to push the covers off your body.
˝Stay˝, his voice was muffled by your hair.
˝I’m already too tired to function and if I stay we both know what will happen.˝
˝All you need to do is just to keep lying down and enjoy˝, his warm breath hit your exposed skin and you almost cave in when the phone vibrated again.
˝It’s yours, Kylo.˝ You said silently.
˝I’ll just l…˝
˝Just be quick, because I won’t wait for forever˝, you chuckled placing a kiss on his lips.
You watched him move across the bed sitting at the edge with his feet touching the ground as he took the phone in his hand. He stayed silent and you could see how his whole body went stiff. Your gaze never wandered away from him as you moved your hand towards the edge of the bed next to your pillow. Neither of you moved for a few minutes not saying anything only your deep breaths could be heard in the silent room. However, when he moved turning around to face you with his gun in his hand you were already holding yours pointed at him.
˝How much?˝ You asked calmly like nothing was wrong while you were ready to shot the man you love.
˝It’s no…˝ He tried to explain, but you cut him off.
˝How much?!˝ Raising your voice you stood from the bed not lowering our hand.
˝6 million, but I..˝
˝You would kill me for that price. I can’t believe, God. I was so stupid. Why did I ever trust a man with the same profession?˝ suddenly you felt too exposed in front of him only in your panties and his shirt that was too big for you.
˝It’s the marker, baby. I can’t run away from it.˝
˝How could you be that stupid?˝ You yelled at him while both of you stayed in the same place.
˝I have to do this.˝
You could see that it was hard on him. His eyes were teary as his hand slightly shook pointed at you. ˝You can try.˝ You were the first one to shot, hitting him in the right shoulder. Running from the room Kylo was shooting at you with his aim not precise due to his injury, but he managed to hit you.
Your leg was hurting from the bullet as you tried to run towards the front door, but Kylo was faster than you. Before he could shot you in the head you turned around aiming at his abdomen. Although the bullet went through him he didn’t stop only letting the gun to fall to the ground. Gripping your body with his hands he slammed you in the door. Your breath was kicked from your lungs as you fell to the ground. Your gun was lying beside you as Kylo straddled your body with his hands going to your neck.
˝I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.˝ There were tears falling on your face from his eyes as he looked down at you.
 You didn’t know why, but at that moment you felt sorry for him, not because he was killing somebody who he loves, but because you were sure that you never loved him that much. And as you were struggling to breathe you tried to reach with your fingers for your gun. You could feel the cold metal at the top of your fingers and when you finally gripped it you didn’t hesitate shooting him. His body fell to the side and you finally could take a deep breath. Kneeling next to his body you took off your shirt placing it on the wound between his ribs. ˝You can keep the pressure on that until the paramedics come or you can die, trying to kill me.˝ You said standing up and taking your long coat from the hanger, tying it up you struggled to kneel next to his body. The whole time he watched you with his eyes barely open. ˝Please, don’t go after me, I’ve already hurt too many people that I loved.˝ Placing the last kiss on his lips you walked out with your boots in your hands.  
You drove for twenty minutes keeping the pressure on your leg that was heavily bleeding. The side of your face and head hurt from when you hit the door and you could taste the blood on your lips while your shoulders ached from the impact. Stopping in front of the house that you used to visit regularly you stepped out of your car. ˝I hope you are home.˝ You whispered while moving to the doors. Knocking two times you heard the barking and a few moments later the doors opened.
˝Hello John˝, you said under your breath seeing his blurry features as your head start to hurt more.
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Dating headcannons: Merkel
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The whole reason you even met was because you knew he was the best person to go to for fake IDs, and you needed one for yourself.
You met again after bumping into each other at one of East Berlin’s notorious underground parties. He calls you by the fake name on the ID before asking for your real name.
When you had your first kiss, you were at Merkel’s special spot: the rooftop of some building downtown where he keeps chairs, blankets, cigarettes and a radio. He slips in a Rolling Stones cassette, watching the way your face tilts up to look at the stars, until he can’t help himself anymore and pulls you closer to him.
When the heat goes out in the shitty apartment you share, Merkel wraps you in his heavy fur coat to make sure you stay warm.
When giving Merkel the side shave haircut he’s wanted for so long, it takes everything in him to sit still and not focus on how close your lips are to his neck
You’re favorite thing to do on dates is go to fancy restaurants and fake proposals to get free food
When Merkel comes back from missions, you practically have to force him to sit down and let you take care of him while he keeps insisting he’s fine
Sometimes he’ll let you listen as he stums away at his guitar, singing softly to some of the lyrics. He thinks his singing voice is terrible, but you love listening to it.
He tries to teach you some phrases is German, and can’t help but laugh when you completely butcher the words
You can always tell when Merkel gets home before you by the sound of David Bowie songs blasting from inside the apartment
Showering together is all fun and games until the hot water runs out after just ten minutes
Him trying to teach you some self defense skills may or may not always turn into a make out session
He likes to watch you fall asleep as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair. You both end up moving closer to each other while you sleep to keep warm
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skrsgardspam2-blog · 6 years
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Just Until She Comes Back :)
Hello lovelies! My name is Grace and I created this blog for anyone missing Leah already and I would like to write little blurbs about Bill and any character he has played. (I have a massive crush on Zeitgeist) I want people to send in as many filthy/fluffy/angsty ideas that they might have. I also want to hear about your lives, so don’t be shy!
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dolphinsapphire28 · 7 years
Video
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Bill Skarsgård - Alteration - VR movie (2017)
Kudos to the uploader.
This has some fanfiction fuel. I particularly love his breaking voice in the pool scene at 10:55.
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ill-skillsgard · 5 years
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Nothing Wrong - Gordan Merkel
Characters: Merkel x busty fem reader
Warning: 18+ sex/BDSM/rope bondage/body+breast worship
Note: This piece was commissioned through my Ko-Fi by one of my most treasured beauties <3 Please visit my page if you're interested in commissioning a fic of your own! Patreon subs got early access to this fic (and much more).
I know I haven’t been posting a whole lot recently, and I feel bad about it. Life has been a real motherfucker lately! I have had little time to sit down and write recreationally and when I get the chance, my attention is elsewhere. I’m hoping things settle down soon, but who knows! Thanks for supporting, reading and existing here with me. I love you!
The weight of a secret knows no bounds...
He came out of nowhere on a crisp Autumn afternoon outside of the convention centre and noted her black button-down shirt. She had left the top three buttons alone, as trying to fasten them would cause rather uncomfortable stretching across her chest. It was better this way. There was nothing wrong with a little eye candy to entice customers, she thought. Nothing wrong with that at all.
He spoke to her under the guise of wanting to know what booth she belonged to since she looked like she was on a short break as a worker and not a visitor. He lit a black cigarette and asked her more questions, all of which he already knew the answers to.
"Do you have a business card?" He asked.
She tapped her pockets and realized that she had left her business cards on the table inside the convention.
"Shit. No. I don't have them on me," she regretted.
"Here. Please," he dipped into an inner pocket and produced a card with a double Carrick knot emblazoned in silver on a pure black field. Gordan Merkel. Then there was an e-mail address.
The man with the striped jacket and fitted black pants tipped some ash from his cigarette and flashed a smile sinful enough to tempt a demon. The sides of his head were shaved down and he had the look of a man that spent a lot of late hours awake.
"I'd give you my card, but I left them all inside," you told him.
"Don't worry. Just send me an e-mail. Just as good as a card."
"Sure. Good to meet you, Gordan."
"Merkel."
The man had eyes like hypnotic stones, high crests for cheekbones that angled down to a pair of cherub's lips.
And they fit together perfectly. They had sex that first night and the noises she made when he had her coming sounded like the call of heaven to him. He laid beside her, spent, watching her breasts rise and fall steadily with her breathing and decided that she had something inside of her that needed to be unleashed.
She was different. She didn't ask things of him. She was just content to be beside him and that was what he needed.
Days turned into weeks and he knew that he liked her in a way that he hadn't liked anybody in a long time. He wanted to keep it that way which meant a lot of ambiguity. At first, she never questioned him. When he said he had to leave after an afternoon of fucking on the stairs she bid him farewell and told him to come back soon.
No matter what, he came back. And she grew to love the days he would show up again at her door with some manner of material flattery; a bouquet, a new scarf, an antique silver bracelet, his favourite sweets from his childhood. Anything to get her to smile before he ravaged her in whatever room she would allow.
Weeks bled into months and she realized how long it had been one day when Merkel was in the shower. When he came out ready to leave, she looked up at him from the sofa and batted her eyes. "Do you really have to leave so soon?"
His neutral expression melted into an apologetic pout. Merkel reached out and touched her cheek. "I promise I'll be back, darling."
"Where do you go all the time?"
"To work, of course."
"I still don't quite understand what it is that you do," she stated.
He leaned down, kissed her with both hands clutching her head and pulled back an inch to nuzzle his nose against hers. "I'll tell you all about it some other time. Right now, I must go."
"Okay."
It happened a few more times until she couldn't take it anymore. He would never get to the bottom of his job or his life or even what he liked to do in his spare time. She thought she was what he did in his spare time. Their time together was the only unstructured thing about him.
She drew the most natural conclusions; He was cheating on her, he had a family somewhere and she was his distraction or he wasn't who she thought he was. Merkel was bad at giving answers and great at concealing information that might lead her to find out what he always disappeared for.
There were already too many secrets and if he could be sneaky, she decided, so could she. Which led her downtown on a covert mission to find out where the hell Merkel went at 8 PM on a Saturday. When she saw the name of the establishment he entered, her heart sank. It wasn't exactly what she had been expecting, but it was close enough and perhaps worse than anything she had envisioned.
She knew the place but never entered, simply waited outside for hours until Merkel showed his face. When the familiar scent of clove cigarettes wafted by, she perked and found him leaned up against the painted black brick wall of the establishment she had followed him to.
"Now you know."
"Yeah. I guess, now I know."
"But you don't know the whole story," Merkel said with a hint of regret steering his words.
"Do I need the whole story?"
He approached her and quirked a useless smile. "Yes. You do."
The whole unadulterated story made her angrier before it provided any kind of relief. He was a teacher of sorts; a master. She gawped at him like her jaw was too heavy to hold up.
"The longer a secret like that is left to fester, the worse it gets. Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I didn't want to scare you away."
"What else are you hiding?"
Merkel lifted his hands, the cigarette between his index and middle finger an afterthought. "Nothing."
"I can't believe you."
"I'm sorry."
"So, you're a... BDSM master. Okay. Nothing wrong with that."
"Nothing wrong? Tell that to every other failed relationship."
"Maybe you should have been honest with them." Her tone carried hotly, but she didn't seem to want to get away from him. Not yet.
"Nothing good ever came from being honest."
"Wish you would have just told me," she grumbled as if he weren’t there.
"I wish I did, too."
They were quiet while Merkel smoked the last inch of his cigarette and flicked it off the sidewalk onto the frosty street. He turned to her, eyes begging for a conclusion.
"I want to try it." She wasn't aware of her admission until it made his eyebrows shoot half-way up his forehead.
"Really? You do? I didn't think you would be into that."
She stood up and began walking away slowly but stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "Well, you never asked... Master."
His sleep-deprived eyes darkened under the lamplight. "Very well, pet."
~*~
He laid down the rules firmly as a true professional would. There was nothing erotic about his long-winded explanation of her obligation to tell him if she started to experience discomfort, claustrophobia or numbness. He drilled her with questions until he conceded that she was an open territory for him to explore.
"You will call me master. I will consider any other address inappropriate and it will result in immediate punishment."
Merkel had walked in wearing a fur coat and carried with him a doctor's bag, presumably full of items that needed no explanation. He dropped the leather bag on the floor and smiled before kneeling to pop open the tarnished frame clasp. He laid out a large coil of coloured rope and returned to her attention as she stood robed in the middle of their chosen play space — the comfort of her bedroom.
"I will only start with the small stuff tonight. Just harnessing your chest and restraining your arms, if you're comfortable with that. You will have full use of your legs. But those tits are mine."
He knew his materials and unwound a fair length of red synthetic fibre rope. He blinked up at her and quirked the left corner of his mouth. "Since you're such a new, sweet, little baby... You get the nice soft rope. Wouldn't want your precious skin to suffer too much."
She nodded her head, unprepared to call him by his chosen title just yet. But that's exactly what he was, and she watched him with her mouth closed while he circled her.
"Whenever you want to start, you can take off your robe."
The confidence she had built up began to shake beneath his stare. The rope in his hands was ready to be laid over her skin. Breathing in deeply, she moved to open her robe and shrug it off her shoulders. He kicked it far enough away to not obscure the surrounding pathway.
"I've dreamed of what those tits would look like tied up for me. So, so many times."
His opening line was enough to have her chewing her lip. Now that he mentioned it, flashes of his hands groping her breasts whizzed by her mind's eye. He always liked to touch and squeeze, paying extra special attention to her sensitive nipples. The recollections made her skin buzz to life.
The soft running of the rope over his hands hissed behind her. She didn't risk looking back at him but closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, fully entrusting him to guide her through this new, impelling experience.
"Lift your arms and bend them in at the elbows, touching your collarbone."
She obeyed him and allowed herself to look down when his hands came up under her arms to lay a flat run of rope over the tops of her breasts. It came around tightly to the back where he looped it and pulled taut.
"Perfect. Stay just like that for me."
His breath was close to her ear as he coiled another run beneath her chest this time, creating a lovingly snug frame. She spilled forth from the binding already, but he had plenty more to do.
"Beautiful. Such exquisite flesh. I would love to see you in jute."
Again, no sound from her. Merkel knotted the rope behind her and his hands came under her arms again. Slender fingers ran along the length of softened chord and the sensation mimicked down her spine.
"Oh, yes. Your body is so responsive to me. Isn't it?"
She nodded her head much to his displeasure. He stopped and pulled the rope tighter. A few breaths permitted to come and go before he leaned over her shoulder, intaking her scent as a wolf might sniff his prey before lunging.
"It's yes, master. You don't want this to end in punishment so soon, do you?"
"No, master," she chirped nervously.
"Good little pet."
When he came around and passed the rope over her shoulder to dip down between her breasts, he took a full, loose-lipped look at how the luscious flesh protruded from the binding. Endearingly pink and bristling from sensation, he bit back the urge to give one of her perked nipples a pinch. That could wait until she was fully restrained.
Her arms were clasped with the same amount of pressure as her chest had been. Fully knotted and unable to do anything but watch her master admiring his work, she bit her lip again and helped him to snap out of his self-evaluative trance.
"How are you feeling, little one?"
"Good, master."
"No discomfort anywhere?"
She smiled. "None whatsoever... Master."
He nodded and bounced his shoulders out of the fur coat, revealing the straps of a purposefully distressed tank top.
"On your knees," he pointed at the floor.
She carefully lowered onto the ground, never breaking eye contact on the way down.
"Oh-so-obedient, my little pet. Fuck, I'm going to have to take it rather slow with you and savour our first playtime because you look magnificent. Those lovely tits... Oh, my." He acted as though he had never seen her before and that bore a grain of truth.
"I will use you for my pleasure tonight, understand?"
She nodded but remembered what he said last time about not using her words. "Yes, master."
"My pleasure might entail many things. It is your responsibility as my pet to attend to my needs with fervour and dedication. You know what to do if your body tells you enough."
"Yes, master."
"Good, pet. Now... Let's see that tongue."
His belt came undone as she opened her mouth. A long hand disappeared beneath the fabric and came back out, clutching a hardening cock.
"I know how much you love to please me, so let me give you a treat. Open wide," he instructed, coat bunching down into the creases of his arms as he stepped forward. The moment the tip contacted her warm tongue, his eyes rolled, and eyelids flickered.
"Gorgeous pet. Yes, you love the taste of your master's cock."
Merkel used her in all the ways he promised he would until they were both sweating on the bed, him with his legs spread wide over the mattress and her being pulled down by the knots running down her back and arms. Inflamed red skin bounced and slapped, static imprints peeked out from beneath bindings, the breathless din of submission pushing them closer and closer to the edge.
Before it was too late, he threw her down on her side while he got up to administer a shot of cum over her face. Obscene as it was, he cradled her gently and stroked her cheek as he let drip his seed over her damp, puffy skin.
"Beautiful. So lovely. Yes, oh, you look beautiful with Master's cum all over your pretty cheeks."
After he finished tapping her cheeks and making a mess, he helped her to stand and began untying her wrists first. She had been wound tight, but not tight enough for her to give up. She had been the perfect pet, as he lovingly told her over and over while unwinding her from all the intricate passes of rope. Every inch that slackened helped her to relax and regulate her breathing until she was free to move her arms.
"Breathe with me now, darling. You did so fantastically. So very well. I've never been prouder."
"Thank you for trusting me," she said.
"There's nothing wrong with admitting you were wrong. And I was wrong. We should have done this a long time ago."
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emmyrosee · 3 years
Note
So I just rewatched Atomic Blonde for the second time. I'm once again freaking out about Mr Merkel. That damn voice has me weak. Can we please talk about Soft!Dom!Merkel dealing with his bratty sub? 😇 Hope you're doing well, Darling. Have a good day. ~🌺
LISTEN. L I S T E N. MERKEL LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREEE, AND SOFT!DOM MERKEL????? I PAY HIM-
———
“It truly is a shame you try to use your mouth for things other than what I intend to use it for.”
The words tumble past Gordan’s lips effortlessly, almost sounding tired in the confession, as if used to this same talk and bored of it happening on so many occasions.
But one thing you learned about Gordan, is for as loving as he is, he is equally impatient for any ridiculousness you could throw at him.
With his glasses low on his nose and the loose locks of hair falling in front of his beautiful green eyes, they watch your throat bulge out as you suck on his thick fingers, gagging on the digits and trembling from the almost painful pleasure demanding attention between your legs.
“To think,” he continues, sighing dramatically. “I wanted to come home to my little bunny and treat them to a night they would never forget. But instead,” he uses his free, large hand to paw over the tightening fabric of his slacks. “I now have to punish them.”
“Pleash daddy,” you whimper around his fingers, small hand wrapping as much as it can around his wrist. You aren’t even sure you know what you’re asking for, something, anything to relieve the tension inside of you.
You want him to fuck you raw. You want him to spank you until you’re bruised. You want him to completely destroy you in every possible way he seems fit, anything but this seemingly annoyed indifference he’s sending your way now.
All while he pleasures himself.
This was real torture.
“Oh, my poor sweet baby,” he croons, and you whimper at the thick sarcasm dripping in his voice. “If only you had wanted to be good just a few minutes ago, hmm?”
The fingers in your mouth quickly pull themselves out of your lips, and you gag once more at the forceful removal, and before you can ask anything about his actions, he grips your chin in those same saliva coated fingers.
“Perhaps then that pretty little mouth would be used exactly as I’d planned, rather than how I now have to.”
@little-grunge-flowerz
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emmyrosee · 3 years
Note
Alright but... a kinky Gordon Merkel interrogating reader? As a snippet or something? Have you thought about that already? Like she’s bound to a chair and he needs to know some infos she doesn’t want to give up?
Hi there! Future Emmy here! This ask is VERY old, buuuuut who am I, if not a Merkel whore.
I do just want a lil disclaimer and trigger warning that I was writing this as a DUBCON-ROLEPLAY PIECE. It didn’t start that way, but it’s the only way I could do it within my own comfort. So please, read it as if it’s a man doing this to his consenting partner- or don’t. I won’t shame 👀
Smooches! 💋
“So, are you going to tell me the association who sent you?”
The snakelike hiss of the agent who had captured you grates against your ear like nails on a chalkboard, rousing goosebumps from your skin and your left eye to twitch in protest. Your ankles, tied to a leg of the chair you were currently bound to kept you pried open, to the point your hips felt ready to pop from their sockets; your arms tied above you in an intricate knot, seemingly foreign to you as your fingers try to work it. 
Nothing you can’t handle. Child’s play, mystery man.
You hated his closeness, the heat from his breath spanning over your cheek, the smell of his hair gel leaving an mentholic burn in your nose. Stale bourbon, cigarette smoke and expensive, masking cologne make you feel sick, and you reel away the closer he gets.
“You’ll have to buy me a drink in Hell before I tell you who sent me,” you growl, moving to spit in front of his feet. He chuckles lowly, grabbing your cheeks firmly in between his fingers and forcing your neck to turn farther than it should, almost as if trying to twist the head off of a Barbie doll.
“Keep the attitude and that can be arranged,” he chuckles as if you were a child being scolded. “You do not want to make this worse for yourself, little one,” he says, his voice low and disgustingly alluring as he traces his nose over your cheek. “I am a man who has nothing to lose and all to gain... you will lose.”
You hiss and wrench your head from his grip, your skull colliding with his nose, and you smirk as he curses in German and pulls back, massive paws covering his mouth and nose.
He offers you a low chuckle before spitting out a wad of blood; passing you a look, the blood dripping from his nose to stain his teeth and gums, he quickly winds his hand back up before backhanding you with enough force to turn your head in the other direction. The thick rings adorning his fingers crack one of your molars, the metallic taste of your own crimson blood making you queasy. You tip your head to spit out the blood, only to flash a smirk back at him.
“That all you got, Mister?” You encourage, watching his jaw tick. “You hold no powers; I can take any pain you dole.”
The corners of his mouth tip towards a smirk, “they had mentioned you might be… accustomed to pain. A little girl like you, I didn’t want to believe it.”
You scowl with a soft “fuck you,” but instead of cracking you once again with his ring hand, he stalks to the back of the dark room, hands rustling in a drawer of sorts, and you cock your brow in confusion, trying to listen for any audio clues for his searching. 
It was a jostle of a knife, at first. It made a shiver run down your spine, and you swallow as his shoulders shift and bend under the thick, black sweater he was wearing. Your eyes scan over the darkness for something, anything familiar, and you snarl softly to yourself at the inability to make out something, anything to remember the location.
A light above you. This chair. These rope. And the man who now holds your life in his calloused fingers.
Snapped from your own thoughts as the clicking of expensive shoes draw closer, the man smirks slyly, slender fingers drawing up and down the sharp curve of the knife.
“It does not have to be like this,” he sighs dramatically, tongue tracing his swollen upper lip. “I am more than willing to offer us both a solution that consensually benefits us.” His eyes lull over you bored, and you sit back against your uncomfortable seat.
“No.”
“Shame.” Without allowing you to think twice, the blade of the knife slices a jagged slip through your shirt before being tossed to the side and being replaced with two large paws; despite your shrieks of disapproval, his hands shred your shirt from your body, hot skin being nipped at the thick, bitterly chilled air.
“DO NOT TOUCH ME!” You scream, your legs trying to fight harder against your tied ankles, and all he does is chuckle before slipping his hand under your brazier. Rough fingertips pinch your nipple roughly, and as your thighs try to tighten on themselves, you only scream louder.
Another filthy, disgusting hand slithers down between your spread legs and cups your hot mound in his fingers. Tears brim at your eyes, fearful and angry for the nerve of such a creature to do the unspeakable to you.
No. Not by him.
“Stop!” You plead, and he merely gives you a snort. “I’ll talk! Please! I’ll fucking talk, get away from me!”
Green eyes flick up to meet your offended gaze, and skilled fingers pop the button of your pants open. “You had your chance, didn’t you, little one?” He croons, thick fingers slipping down your underwear, and you tremble in horror at the wetness that had shamefully pooled against the fabric.
“Besides,” he says softly, cocking his head. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you? Hmm?”
You wail as two meaty fingers slip inside of your velvet cavern, the sting of being stretched and resistance against the act only making your head drop back to let a euphoric, girlish moan out.
“That’s right,” he purrs. “I could smell you from up here… yes, you’re going to talk. But first?” He leans his face down to be nose to nose, your hot breath getting trapped between you as your cloudy eyes look up at him.
“You’re going to beg.”
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emmyrosee · 4 years
Note
out of all the bills, who are the best cooks and who are not to be trusted in the kitchen?
HA-
Axel, Gordan, and Henry Pearl are, not so surprisingly, the best cooks. They just know their way around the kitchen and how to use the materials to make anything taste good. I feel like axel though, is only a good chef in HIS/YOUR kitchen. Anywhere else, he’s an absolute mess.
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Mark can finesse some things, like grilled cheese, homemade pizzas, pancakes- simple things that can be done without starting a fire 7/10 times. Of course, he brags about what an amazing boyfriend he is everytime he cooks you “dinner”, but really his favorite time to cook is with you, working together cause he really a sap HA🥰
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Mickey, Roman and The Kid... absolutely not. No. Do not let them near the kitchen. The Kid has a bit of an excuse, but none of them can be trusted.
Mickey is nutorious for accidentally cutting himself with butter knives. Roman has set the microwave on fire three times while trying to make instant Mac-n-cheese. The Kid always forgets to put the milk away when he makes himself some cereal.
He doesn’t even like milk in his cereal.
He just feels weird if it’s not there.
Just... keep them away from the kitchen. At all costs.
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Side note- no, Henry Deaver couldn’t cook either. Man lived on buttered toast and Cap’n’crunch for most of his time
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emmyrosee · 4 years
Note
since fugitive!reader has been on the run for so long, she sleeps wherever she can, and barely gets any sleep when she does. she’s used to like sleeping in trash cans, on street corners, dirty old mattresses for the longest time. so when merkel takes her in and finally gives her an actual bed to sleep in, she doesn’t know what to do. she tries to sleep, but it’s too comfy and big. she watches merkel sleep all spread out and wonders how he does that, while she’s curled up in a ball 🥺 - baby anon
OH MY GOD BABY, THIS IS THE CUTEST THING, IM CRYING😭😭❤
Her body is just sorta kinda always on it’s own time and clock because she’s been on the run for so long. You don’t always have the luxuries of clocks or bells or even someone to tell you the time.
It’s just a reality she now lives. 
And when her body would get tired, she wasn’t above sleeping in dank, dark passageways under leaves, or even giving part of her innocence to get to sleep in a disgusting, pest-ridden bed with nothing but her own hands to keep her warm.
So, you’re exactly right; Merkel gives her those luxuries, those things even he finds himself taking advantage of; the original mattress in the room was most definitely nicer than the mattresses she would have to bargain for, but certainly not as nice as Merkel’s, so once they can fully trust each other and Gordan lays her in bed next to him, she genuinely just- freezes.
What do you do with all of the pillows?
It’s so hot under his blankets, but it’s so much better than being cold.
She finds herself in an eternal battle of keeping her socks on and taking them off.
When she finally, finally goes to sleep, she’s condensed herself into her tiny little ball in the upper corner of the bed, shivering and kicking her feet occasionally as if to ward something off.
And when Merkel sees this, part of him wants to leave her and let her sleep, he knows she’ll have a miserable time trying to get into normal time again, so she should just be allowed to sleep now.
But on the other hand, she more than likely never slept like this before she went on the run; she’s a person, many people don’t sleep like this, not to mention the problems it could cause her later.
So, Gordan gently inches her to lay in the middle of her side of the bed, gently coaxing each of her limbs to relax and unfold; she only gives him a little bit of trouble, whining and fighting him off, probably for more than one reason, but once he gets her to lay on her stomach, arms under the pillow and legs lax into the mattress, Gordan can only smile as she smacks her lips and mewls happily at the new positioning. 
He has to coax her like that for a few nights, but soon enough she gets the hang of it, moving and even cuddling against him in her sleep.
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emmyrosee · 4 years
Text
Staying.
On The Run II
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Part One.
This most certainly isn’t timely; hell, I doubt there’s any interest for this story anymore; but after writing it, scraping it, writing it and scraping it and finally getting it? I don’t care what you guys want, I’m happy 🥰
This certainly isn’t the most fun chapter, but boy HOWDY I was excited when I saw all my dots connect and UGH I’m pumped😂❤️
WARNINGS: verbal fighting, language
Gordan Merkel x Fugitive!Reader; after a series of unfortunate events lands you in East Berlin, you fear almost everyone and everything that lands in your path. And it forces you to cross with a stranger who takes a risk on you.
---------
“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy.”
You can’t help but find some humorous comfort in the words. Gordan’s small home definitely wasn’t anything fancy. Two bedrooms, one full bathroom with a small half in the hallway. The kitchen was standard, present as soon as you walk past the frame of the front door.
You clutched the blanket around your shoulders tighter as your eyes scan the room thoroughly. Some art work decorated the light brown walls, curtains drawn tight. It wasn’t exactly in the city, a small cel de sac in which houses were spread along the curve. According to Gordan, the lovely people who lived there were more than happy to either assist him or become part of the rebellion, so while hiding you would be mandatory, being heard would only be concerning if they caught your face.
Allegedly.
Woods decorated the backyard and seemed to stretch for miles, and the sun raising was no match for the branches.
It seemed fine, small and sweet as it stays happily in the ground. You most certainly are ready to regrow your clipped wings and sleep on a bed, with lamps and blankets and windows with golden sunlight to peek through them.
That is, until Gordan guides you gently to The Room.
Hidden only by the back of a reclining chair, The Room is a small cubby-like hole, dropping down to a five-foot tall landing. The small opening is a perfect square, and the short stool just under it seems large in comparison to just how little of room there is to spare.
Boxes of liquor and crates of naught magazines take up even more room, and in the corner, a pile of blankets and a single pillow on top of a twin mattress. There’s a small pile of empty water bottles and discarded wrappers of German junk food that litter the already messy hole, and you can barely make out the small lamp and curtain drawn window against the wall.
“It’s not exactly the most spacious or comfortable room,” Gordan sighs, staring in the dark room. “But my rebels, they use the it as well. It’s never failed me before.”
Your eyes fixate on the small space, wondering silently as to how many rebels were in this port before. Gordan smiles, “it’s a lot bigger than it looks. And it’s only for a couple hours a day. When I get back home, assuring everything is shut, I will be able to let you out.”
Your eyes drift over at Gordan, who’s smiling face is focused on the Room. He holds an expression of relief, and while you can’t pinpoint your feelings, a certain calmness washes over you as well.
He seemed to have that effect on people- hell, he was able to ground you after being so skittish for three years. His whole aura was full of protection, and you couldn’t help but relish in this new feeling.
This was going to work.
The first few days were fine.
From 6:30 am, to 8:30 pm, Gordan was out at work. When he comes home, he doesn’t talk much about his day, though he pours you both a glass of wine and starts to make dinner before scurrying off to bed. You’re allowed to walk around when he’s home, but when he goes to bed, you’re only allowed three hours to completely get your “freedom” fix.
Television volume can only be one-fourth of the way up, and make sure the stereo is turned all the way down before playing.
Fridge is open to anything, as is the library and shower, and it all just worked.
And just as it started to come together, you could feel it slowly slipping apart.
Gordan had been staying later and later, cooking less and less and being unable to buy more and more groceries. The Room locked from the outside, though he left a lock-picking-Kit in case of any emergencies. The window creates some light, same with the lamp, but they’re so dim, what’s the point.
He’s given you books to read, mainly about Sweden and the culture and language, you assume it’s sorta like a last resort.
But you can only read for so long.
You can only count the marks on your face and deal with the flicking of the lamp, and draw shapes in the water-stains on the window for so long.
More often than not, you just end up sleeping.
Or, sort of sleeping? It’s hard to tell anymore, you think you’re asleep with how dark it is, but sometimes your muscle jerks and you think “hey, that’s never woken me up before” only to the repeat the cycle. Before, the scary shapes your imagination would try to pain through the darkness would scare you. Now they’re you’re friends, and you feel your heart shatter when they leave.
At least when you were on the run, you had endless space... here, you’re not quite sure what you have.
You just know it’s not nearly enough.
You feel you’re homesickness transform from your home and family, to the streets.
Little did Gordan know just how bad you wanted to go back.
———
You’re not quite sure when you dozed back off.
You must’ve as a loud clomp! makes your eyes fly open, only to slowly fall back shut.
Then to fly back open as the sound of thick, heavy boot-steps pound on the floor in front of the room, and after a loud screech of furniture moving, the lock to the door clicks open, head spinning wildly at the noise. Your eyes fall to the dim alarm clock.
11:42.
At night? Had you honestly been left alone for 16 hours? Left to nothing but sleep and count hair follicles on your arms?
There’s an immense, sudden flood of light that clouds your vision, and in the middle of it was Gordan Merkel. The first part of you is washed with relief, it’s just him and not the authorities as he could’ve easily given you away.
The second part of you? Rage.
“My sincerest apologies,” he says immediately, watching cautiously as you crawl out of the room. “I had to stay late, make some adjustments to files and shit. What can I get you? Are you hungry?”
With each excuse and word that Gordan says, your arms tighten over your chest, and tears sting the back of your eyes.
“Please?” He continues, “I’ll make some dinner and-“
“You’re unbelievable!” You shout, storming out of the room. Gordan’s eyes widen as he shushes you, waving his hands to quell your anger.
“I can explain-“
“I am not some fucking dog!” You scream.
“Please do not yell, we can’t stir suspicion-“
“Fuck your suspicion! You cannot leave me for hours on end with no food, no water, a crappy sense of time, what kind of monster are you!”
“There were issues at work I had to resolve,” Gordan says firmly, gripping your biceps. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
“I don’t have to trust you with anything,” you hiss. You flick yourself away in anger, and Gordan pushes the fallen strands of his gelled hair back, his face holding venom so powerful, you feel sick. It sends a chill through you, and as much as you hate him, you know he’s in control.
“People who actually have to stay here, stay quite and keep to themselves. You think I like having to hide a fugitive such as yourself in my house, putting both of us in extreme goddamned danger? Do you not understand the risk I am taking for you?”
You freeze, and your heart stops. Of course you knew what a risk he was taking. Anyone associated with hiding you could be in jail themselves, but was supporting him really worth being treated like an animal?
“Y-yes, Mr Merkel,” you whimper, looking at your feet.
Evidently, yes.
Gordan takes a stride towards you, eyes still firm and authoritative. “I promised you safety, and safety is what I give you. If you are truly unhappy with my methods, you do not have to stay. Make my life safer. One less tally of suspense on my back.”
Your heart stops as if Gordan held the button to make it cease, and he just pressed it. You knew you wanted to stay, it was warmer and more assuring than outside. It was better. Gordan was nice to you, this much you knew for sure. You’d been lying to yourself, the streets were scary, you never wanted to go back.
You shrink back from him, slowly turning on your heel to blink and dab at the tears burning your sleepless, aching eyes.
You hate him. You hate him you hate him you fucking hate him. You hate this control he holds over you. You hate this twisted freedom-hostage situation. Of course you can leave anytime. You know he’s not going to stop you, but you can’t bring yourself to do so.
Against your own will, a tight, nearly silent sob squeaks through your trembling lips, and behind you, you hear Gordan sigh.
“Look at me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“And I don’t want you to cry, look at me.”
Slowly, your shaking frame turns to face him, and as you see his softened, easy face, another sob catches your throat. He crouches to meet your gaze, and when you try to look away, he tips your chin to look at him.
“Listen to me,” he says, low and firm. “I want you to be safe, alright? Your being here makes me feel like I have a control of you being alright. I don’t know what they’ll do to you if those morons find you- what I do know is when you’re here, yes, I might be late, but you’re here. And the plan is just one day closer. Do you understand me?”
You blink up at him and say nothing, a thick, hot tear slipping down your warmed cheek. He wipes it away with his knuckle, clearly unable to see how he hurt you. “But, if I’m going to keep you as safe as I can, I have to make it seem like nothing has changed. If I make anything questionable, rumors will fly. And I cannot lie to my rebels. So,” he gently grips your chin in his hand. “For now, I need you to just trust me, alright?”
Your eyes avoid his, and you gently nod your head in understanding. Gordan sighs and pushes himself up, “as long as the curtains stay closed, feel free to roam.” He rolls up his sleeves and gently walks down the hall, leaving you and your spinning head alone in the darkened living room.
Another weak, pathetic sob rips through you, and with nothing better to do, you climb back into the room, easing the door shut, part of you secretly hoping that Gordan would forget you.
Forget you, your crimes, and everything in between.
------
OTR taglist (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed)❤
@hecohansen31​
@youaremyfamiliar​
@shyvirgoanon​
@kathryn-jane​​
@billofourtime​
@little-grunge-flowerz​
@bethskarsgard​
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emmyrosee · 4 years
Note
is there like a soft, non-sexual term for size kink? bc that’s what i can see the bills having w their newborns. like they’re so fragile and tiny compared to their large lankiness and they don’t wanna hurt them so they’re just veeeeerrrrryyyy gentle with them bc no way in HELL are they risking ever hurting their angel baby 🥺🥺
I feel like Gordan and Roman wouldn’t even hold them until they were out of the hospital- they’d just be so scared to drop them, so terrified to hurt their fragile little bodies that they wouldn’t touch them unless they were secure somehow. Even on your bed, he’d get nervous in fear of him rolling on top of them.
He just wants them to be protected and safe- and he’s convinced that the best way for that to happen is if he stays far away from them🥺💕
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emmyrosee · 5 years
Note
For the smut alphabet could you pretty please do C, E and F with Merkel, Mark and Henry Pearl?
You tryna kill me?
Funky set up, bear with me lmao
———
C is for Cum
Merkel is fairly tame when it comes to seeing you covered in his cum. He admires you briefly, maybe bringing a thumb-full to your lips for you to indulge in, but for the most part, he stays controlled about it, gentlemanly still.
That is, until he’s alone. He can close his eyes and remember your little yelps and whimpers, your little moans of appreciation of his hot ropes that decorate your face. He can remember, and that’s enough for him to want to restart the cycle again.
Mark however.. he’s a lot less subtle. He absolutely loves to cover every inch of you in his cum, watching with hazy eyes as it drips down your tits, your face, your thighs, your ass (his personal favorite), wherever he managed to shoot himself. If you’re on birth control and raw dogging, he’ll watch it drip out of your dripping hole, lifting your thighs and moving them to watch it fall differently before smirking to himself and lowering to your pussy to “clean you up.”
Henry Pearl is very shy about it. He won’t try anything with it, opting instead to get you cleaned up as soon as he can. 
But. When you sit up and bring some to your lips, or tell him how good he was and feels all over you, he can’t fight the reforming erection that suddenly demands to cover you again.
Not that you complain, of course.
E is for Experience
Merkel, being a worldly man, has enough experience to write home about. After a mission or when he finally has a minute to let it all hang out, the man certainly is a sight for sore eyes, enough where he can have any woman at his feet instantly. You, of course, are no exception that smolder and that experience.
Mark isn’t so much experienced as he is good. He knows his way around a woman’s body when he wants to be, enough to leave a certain need and itch to get that feeling and that high back. 
Henry Pearl... not that much. But, much like Mark, he know’s his way around a woman’s body. Very, painfully well. Enough to make you quiver and shake and writhe without him even touching you. His words, his movements, his gentle loving is more than enough to make up for the fact that he doesn’t have quite the body count of others around him.
And that’s your little secret.
F is for Favorite position
Merkel is a fan of just laying you on the nearest piece of furniture- couch, table, bed, anywhere, and just taking you as he stands, ankles in his hands. The full control, the ability to see you, everything about that pose drives him insane. 
Mark prefers the cowgirl; reverse or normal, he’s not picky, but just watching you work yourself, seeing you bounce as he fucks up into you.. he’d pay money to see it all day, everyday. Not that you haven’t done it for free, but it was fantastic enough where he wants to do it over and over and over again.
Henry Pearl absolutely loves spooning as he fucks you. slowly entering you from behind as you drunkenly tilt your head in search for a kiss, the needy whines as he ever so gently wraps a hand around your delicate throat, not enough to do anything but just to remind you that he’s here and at that moment he’s in charge... crazy positions just don’t compare.
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emmyrosee · 5 years
Note
8 - Merkel from grumpy affectionate startes list, please 🥰
“Please stop smiling at me like that.”
The command came out flatly from Gordan’s lips, which were currently pressed against the soft pillows of your shared bed.
The loud box-fan in your window tries desperately to combat the warm air in Berlin, drowning out most of the noise of the outside world to leave you and Gordan to yourself.
He just looked so peaceful, half asleep as he laid next to you, perfect lips smooshed out into a pout as he breathes softly through them. His hair messed everywhere, fallen bits of the once slicked gel cascading in front of him gorgeously. You couldn’t help but stare at him, smiling and watching the rise and fall of his shoulders.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” you pout, nudging his chest. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “well, I’m not.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“So stop staring at me like that.”
“No,” you say simply. You giggle as he groans, and as you slowly start to wrap yourself around him, he continues to pout as he reciprocates the hug, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your bottom.
“It’s too hot for this,” he mumbles.
“You’re too hot for this,” you hum. Gordan merely snorts as he gently rubs up and down your back, head resting atop yours.
“You smell like sweat,” you say quietly, nuzzling deeper in his neck.
Gordan sighs in exasperation as you laugh, knowing just how much you fill him with annoyed adoration.
“I love you,” you say sweetly, kissing along his sticky collarbone. He kisses your head before settling back down.
“So you’re just like, not going to say it back?” You tease. From behind his fallen hair, you see one of his green eyes pop open, and you squeal as he eyes you.
He inhales sharply, “I tolerate you to the most fond extent, as well.”
“So you don’t love me-”
You’re effectively cut off with a sharp swat to your ass, making you squeak and laugh, hiding away in his neck as he softly chuckles along with you.
He totally loves you.
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