#Gordan Merkel Smut

[emmyrosee]

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

[hecohansen31]

I hope it's not to much to ask...B, C, D, F, J, K, M, N, V, W, and X for Merkel 🖤 pretty please

Smut Under The Cut:

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I do feel like Merkel is one type to observe more than to actually act, so I do think that any parts that might reveal a lot about you are his favorite: for example I do think that he’d love your eyes, whether they are shadowed for nervousness or whether they are bright for happiness.

I do also think that a second contender is your mouth.

On himself I do think that he kind of likes his hair, I don’t know he just seemed always perfectly styled (plus let’s not talk about the entire ‘waiter’ look, because I feel like he was silently screaming about that hairstyle...).

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I do feel like he’d also join the party of ‘I am not ready to be a daddy yet’, so he wouldn’t cum inside, and I do feel like he isn’t a big fan of messes so I don’t want to make this seem boring but he’d either pull out and come onto your butt, or outside of you on your front, the max he could I do think would be a titty-fuck... and come all over your chest.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is the most likely to tease you in public, he’d absolutely love nothing more than to finger you under a table, meanwhile he is plotting with somebody over a table and you are hiding softly your face in his neck and anybody would think you are just annoyed, but it’s because fucking Gordan is hitting just that spot...

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

I do think that he’d be a big fan of either doggy or missionary, with your legs over his shoulder, hitting you so deep that he’d see the outline of his cock right onto your stomach, but he’d also have the time of his life controlling you and teasing you from behind in doggy position.

Gently brushing the tip against your entrance and pushing it inside, just to slam it all and making you jump forward and choke a breath at its lagerness.

  J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

I don’t think that Merkel is one that jerks off often, he seems the clean and polished type, who doesn’t have trouble finding somebody to stick onto his cock for a few hours and give him a bit of comfort from blue balls.

I’d also feel like he’d want his mind as calm as he can, and he’d try to do this by avoiding any distraction!

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

It can all summarized with ‘control’.

I do picture him as mainly a dom, although I don’t think that he’d be a cruel and ruthless one, he has seen too much shit in his life to be that rough with his partners, but he’d certainly be stern and have his rules, and would prefer to release a partner than to push him into something they are not into.

Soft and hard restarints, overstimulation (with much more of his hands), rules (a lot of), orgasm denial and maybe also DDLG, although he’d have an hard time with random hook-ups.

I also feel like he’d also try to sometimes to bring weapons in bed, like either knife play/gun play, again solely with partners he knows and is sure with.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Submission, like although he had an amazing chemistry with Charlize (I don’t make the rules, but she is his mom) I don’t think that those’d be the girls he’d go for, or be turned on by a show of power.

He’d be more interested in the soft girl that is sitting by herself at the club, trying silly to grab his attention with a few of attentive glances at him, but shy enough to not only make her deliciously blush, but to also disappear as he turns to catches them.

What turns him even more on, is shy girls that are deeply corrupted inside, like the same girl, pushing her panties in his fingers before moving out of the club.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) 

Although he might like brats, he doesn’t apprecciate people who don’t take the BDSM life seriously, for example ‘wannabe doms and subs’ and alongside that also spiteful and spoiled people are somebody he wouldn’t be find in.

He lives breaking subs into submission, but he won’t be annoyed by people who don’t understand the relationship. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I don’t think that he groans much, and I feel like he is rather silent and even if he speaks he tends to use a lower and husky tone, which needs to be listened immediately, he doesn’t like raising his voice.

He doesn’t mind loud partners, he actually encourages them!

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I do think that he tends to be have his own movement of sweetness in bed, which are pretty rare, but sometimes he just wants to cherish his partners and focus on them, going down on them for entire hours and then maybe doing something more...

I’d also think that he is probably a swinger and doesn’t mind that lifestyle for both sexes.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He is pretty endorsed, although he has a more sleek appearance which he keeps even more attentive with the fact that he likes being attentive and ambiguous in an almost androginine way (also let me tell you he’ll judge your style so hard, bad style is also a pass for him).

[sir-skarsgard]

Sleep Over, But we’re Not Sleeping

Pairing: Roman Godfrey x OC

Prompt/summary: Roman and Kasey finally give in to the sexual tension that revolves around the two of them during a sleepover with Shelley 

Word count: 3,572 

Warnings/contents: Smut, kinks, Roman being Roman

Notes: This is a smut, and there will be a part 2, so look out for that one coming soon! 

I know that nobody will take heed of my warning, but this is a very descriptive smut, so 18+ 

Shelley and I were having a sleepover. It had been awhile since we had, but she invited me to stay over tonight since we had been doing homework kind of late into the evening. I tried to deny, but she insisted, so here I was, lying on her floor on a blanket with a pillow, staring at her dark ceiling, listening to her soft snores, and trying to sleep. However nothing came over me. I gave a soft sigh and pushed the covers away, careful not to wake her as I left her bedroom.

I was going to annoy Roman since she was asleep and therefor I couldn’t bug her. I knew he’d be awake, so I went to his room, not even bothering to knock, and walked in, shutting the door behind me. He wasn’t on his bed, but the lamp beside it was turned on.

Roman walked out of the closet, putting on a shirt since he had apparently not been wearing one, and looked around. When he spotted me he didn’t focus as much on putting his shirt on quickly since it was only me.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked. I passed him, keeping eye contact and shrugging, plopping down on his bed and staring at the illuminated ceiling.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I can. Move over.” He said, staring down at me. I looked at him, wondering how in the fresh pits of hell he managed to look good from this angle, but of course he did. He was always gorgeous.

“No, it’s comfy.” I murmured. Roman moved my legs out of his way, then lifted me up a little bit and moved me over.

“I don’t care,” he yawned, plopping down beside me. “Mmm, it’s warm.” He whispered. My lips parted slightly with a soft exhale and I averted eye contact, moving my hand from beside me on the bed to rest on my stomach. My sweater was risen slightly off my hips, however, my pants stayed put.

“It’s warm because that’s where I was laying.” I replied. 

“Why aren’t you with Shelley?” Roman asked me, ignoring my previous comment.

“She fell asleep and I got bored, so I came to bug you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend, too.” I replied, closing my eyes. “I come to your house to bug both Shelley and you.”

“I’m not very nice to you.” Was all he said, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t the truth. Roman pestered me, teased me and taunted me, poking me or making fun of me, but he wasn’t exactly ‘mean’ per say. He was nicer to me than my mother, certainly nicer than my brother, who was extra mean for no reason, and of course my father was worse than anyone. To say the least, Roman could say he was mean, but he really wasn’t that mean, just a little annoying sometimes.

“Nicer than my own family.” I replied, keeping my eyes closed. The weight shifted on the bed, so I opened my eyes to see what was going on and saw Roman, now sitting up a little more, leaving his weight on his elbow and looking at me. “What?” I asked, looking up at him. “Stop staring at me like that.” I laughed softly.

“Nothing.” He replied quietly.

“Then stop looking at me.” I said teasingly.

“And you wonder why I always make fun of you-- you do it, too.”

“I don’t make fun of you!” I defended, with a smile.

“You do, too. All the time.” Roman smiled lightly. “ Even right now.”

“If I didn’t make fun of you then we wouldn’t be us; our relationship would be completely different.” I spoke, regretting the word ‘relationship’ as soon as it slipped past my lips, but I didn’t stop. “Then you’d just make fun of me and that’s not even sided.”

“Baby, if I didn’t pester you, then you never would have even noticed me.” I felt my cheeks heat slightly at his nickname, since he’d only ever called me ‘babe’ for a nickname besides ‘dumbass’ and ‘brat,’ ‘baby’ felt a little different, considering his tone, which softened along with his eyes, which seemed softer than normal.

“To be fair, if I didn’t make fun of you then you wouldn’t talk to me.” I replied.

“What do you mean?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows inwards slightly.

“I mean I know the only reason you talk to me is because I have good comebacks and no one else ever replies to your pestering.”

“You do have some good comebacks,” Roman admitted quietly.

“I know.” I smiled, yawning and covering my mouth.

“Why don’t you go to sleep.” He said.

“Because I’m not tired.”

“Your mouth says otherwise.”

“My mouth says a lot of things, but it won’t say I’m tired when I’m not.” I smiled. Roman returned my smile, giving a soft, breathy chuckle.

“Well then what else does it say?” He asked, playing along with my stupidness.

“It says lies and replies to what your stupid mouth says.”

“Say that to my mouth.” Roman placed a hand beside my head, hovering above me with a feigned angry look. I leaned upwards onto my elbows and leaned in more.

“Your mouth is stupid.” I stared into his green eyes. A small smirk was on his plump lips.

“I think your mouth is lying, is because we both know you don’t think my mouth is stupid.”

“Then why did I say it was?”

“You already admitted your mouth is a liar.”

“Why are we still talking about our mouths like they’re people?”

“I don’t know, but maybe we should see what they’d feel like together.” He whispered, his breath hitting my lips as he was less than just a few inches away. I didn’t reply, just placed my hand on the back of his neck and leaned in, closing the small gap between us.

It ended almost too soon, but I pulled away anyways. Roman kept his eyes shut, leaning in again. I smiled gently and leaned back in, running my hand through his hair. Roman moved, swinging his leg over me, leaning down and pushing me down slowly with him, leaning on his elbows, his body pressed against mine snugly. One of his hands rested on my stomach rubbing the skin at the hem of my shirt with the pad of his thumb.

Roman pressed himself closer, one of his knees between my legs helping hold him up, his other leg on the other side of my left leg, which bent slightly on the bed.

Roman tore his lips away from mine, kissing along my jawline and down my neck. I leaned my head back, panting slightly and keeping my hand in his hair, which was just as soft as it looked like it was. His warm tongue ran up my neck, stopping just beneath my jaw, when he switched to kissing towards my lips, pecking the side of my lips before fully pressing his lips against mine, nibbling my lower lip.

I slid a hand up Roman’s shirt, running my hand over his abs, which only seemed to encourage him more. He slipped his hand that was on my stomach all the way up my shirt, groping my boob through my bra. It might have seemed weird to wear a bra when I was trying to sleep, but I always wore a bra if I was staying over somewhere, certainly if Roman was going to be there, and since Shelley was basically my only friend Besides Roman and Peter, he was always around my sleepovers.

I arched my back up a little bit, giving Roman the opportunity to slip his hand behind me and undo the clasp on my bra. Soon after Roman’s cold hand groped at my bare breast; I gave a soft moan into the kiss, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt.

I’d imagined it before, I’d had a dream about it before, but I never would have imagined that it would actually happen. Roman on top of me, his hand underneath my shirt, my hand in his shirt, his lips feverishly attacking mine, my hand in his hair. And I wouldn’t believed you if you’d told me it would happen.

I’d gone into Roman’s room so often during sleepovers with Shelley, it was just a normal for me to be in here, but not for me to be in this position.

Roman’s tongue licked my bottom lip, knocking me out of my thoughts. I opened my mouth, turning my head more to the side as he slid his tongue into my mouth and wrapped it around mine. After what felt like forever, Roman broke the kiss, hesitating for a few seconds and licking his lips before he leaned away and sat me up. I looked at him as he slipped his hands underneath my shirt and lifted it off. I lifted my arms, seeing him tossing it off the side of the bed, slipping my bra off my arms and tossing it with my shirt, placing a hand on my shoulder and pushing me down onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine once they locked on.

I laid back, watching as Roman yanked his shirt off, letting it fall to the side, and leaned in, his hands on either side of my head, his lips attaching to mine, nipping gently at my bottom lip momentarily. I let out a breathy moan when his lips took a second of separation before they pushed back against mine, his bottom lip between mine this time. I put one of my hands on the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

Roman leaned onto his elbows more, his body pressing against mine. The unmistakable feeling of hardness came from his pants that pressed against my thigh. Roman left my lips, kissing down my neck, nipping lightly at my skin, making me let out a shocked, breathy gasp nearly every time. His tongue licked at the base of my neck, kissing from the area along my collarbone and towards the middle of my breasts.

He pressed a kiss right in the middle of my chest, licking along the small lines my bra left on my skin and kissed away towards my nipple, running his tongue over it before taking it in his mouth and gently nibbling on it. I moaned underneath my breath, closing my eyes and laying my head back.

Roman’s free hand groped at my other boob, his thumb rubbing over my nipple. I lifted my hips up sharply, pushing my thigh that was snugly between his legs against his boner, earning a soft grunt from him in return, in retaliation to him biting my too nipple harshly, and let out a suppressed hiss through my lip that was tugged between my teeth.

Roman moved to my other boob, placing his mouth over my opposite nipple and rubbing the previous between his thumb and pointer finger, nibbling on my nipple and keeping his boner pressed against me this time so I couldn’t do that again. I lifted my upper half up a little bit, letting out a soft moan.

The hand that was rolling my nipple between his fingers ran down my body, stopping at my hip while he moved so his hand could slip between my legs to rub me over my loose pants. I lifted my hips for him to slip them off, which he took my hint immediately, and moved so he could take my pants off and let them fall to the floor. While he had me in a better position for stripping, he took my underwear off, too and let it fall from his fingers tips, watching me. I licked my lips, watching as his green eyes broke from mine and looked over every inch of my body; down my neck, over my collarbone and my boobs, his fingers tracing along my ribs and up my chest as he took one last look where my underwear previously was, and moved.

Roman’s lips attached to mine, though this time almost softly. He didn’t stay long, instead he kissed and nipped at my neck, nipped the skin around my boobs, and began kissing down my stomach, nipping lightly by my ribs and around my bellybutton before kissing down my hips. He lifted my right leg, kissing along my lower thigh and upwards, doing the same on my left leg. He left open mouthed kisses along my inner thighs, his eyes watching mine the entire time. He leaned away for a second, then looked down at my skin, tracing a small pattern with his finger, and opening his mouth to gently bite me.

I laid my head back on his pillow, letting out a soft hiss of air between my teeth. I squeezed my eyes shut, balling the sheets in my hand when his tongue licked a long stripe up my pussy, letting out a shaky breath.

“Shit, Roman,” I murmured quietly, immediately followed by a sharp gasp when he slipped one of his long fingers inside of me without warning.

His tongue licked my clit at a quick, makes-your-heart-race, pace. I panted slightly, burrowing my head backwards into the pillow, screwing my eyes shut and focusing on keeping quiet. It was hard to remain focusing on keeping quiet when Roman’s tongue was working wonders on my clit, and a second finger slipped inside me. I bit the back of my hand, arching my back accidentally.

Roman wrapped his arms around my legs and leaned in, following me whenever I moved, and held me down firmly against the bed. I glanced down, watching him for a moment, soft gasps escaping my mouth. His eyes met mine, and a smirk played its way onto his face before he turned his attention back to working his tongue around.

My cheeks lit up as I laid my head back, my hand gripping the bed sheets tighter, turning my knuckles white, my other hand getting bitten by my own mouth.

I felt my soul leave my body as I came, screwing my eyes shut tightly and biting harshly at my hand to not let out a loud moan. I was trying to catch my breath when Roman slid down a little bit more, using his tongue as a replacement for his fingers, using his wet hand to hold my leg down on the bed.

I moaned in shock, my body jerking at the feeling of his tongue inside of me. Roman slipped his hand around my hips, his thumb rubbing little circles on my clitoris. I arched my back and pressed my head back against the bed, once again dragging Roman with me, which he hadn’t seemed to mind.

I turned my head to the side, biting at the pillow and letting out a slightly muffled moan as I felt myself cum again quickly. Roman moved away from between my legs, pressing kisses up my stomach, but stopping right underneath my sternum between my ribs, and leaning away.

I watched him stand up, unbutton his pants and kick them, along with his underwear, off and gulped slightly at him. I’d seen Roman shirtless many times, and I’d seen him in only boxers with part of his dick hanging out, but I’d never seen him fully naked before.

He climbed back on the bed, keeping eye contact with me and smirking lightly.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s not the worst sight I’ve ever come across.” I replied, watching him near me.

“I’ll give you a better one,” he replied.

“And what’s that?”

“My ceiling while I fuck you.”

“I’m sure that is a rather nice view.” I replied.

“You’re about to find out.” Was all he said, in a hushed tone. Roman lifted my legs, placing one of them on my shoulder and the other he held in his arm. He sat on his knees, lining himself up at my entrance without the help of his hands. He pushed himself in slowly. I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the pillows, running my tongue over my lips.

Roman didn’t start as fast as I thought he was going to. He thrusted so slowly you couldn’t even really call it thrusting. He was just rocking his hips, watching as he slipped himself in and almost out, and back in at an agonizingly slow pace. He put my other leg up on his shoulder after a minute.

After maybe two minutes he picked up the pace a little bit, leaning downwards and pushing my legs down as he leaned over me. I winced slightly from the position my legs were in, meeting his green eyes. His lips pecked mine, but he hadn’t picked up the pace.

I gave a soft, shaky exhale, staring into Roman’s eyes as he was doing with me. It was more a intimate scenario than I ever imagined Roman in. Rocking his hips against me, his eyes locked with mine, soft exhales and moans, gentle kisses every now and then.

“Jesus, Roman, please.” I finally muttered, laying my head back. Roman’s pointer finger gently ran down my neck.

“That’s not my name.” He murmured.

“Oh, is this a daddy thing?” I asked, seeing his eyes change and brighten when I said ‘daddy’ and shrugged. I laughed softly and nodded. “Alright then,” I murmured, glancing at him again and moaned softly when he pushed himself deeply inside me. “Please, daddy,” I said, watching Roman’s eyes light up. “Go faster.”

Roman obliged, slipping one of my legs off his shoulder and wrapped it around his waist, getting in a better position to push himself more inside of me and moved his hips at a more bearable pace. I moaned softly, closing my eyes and ran my hand over his shoulder and into his hair.

I wanted this promise of fucking me, and I wasn’t so sure this counted, but I bit my lip and stayed patient. If he knew how much it was driving me crazy then he’d only wait out longer. He could do this kind of shit all day, he’d been teasing me for years, I know how he’s wired.

Roman let my other leg off his shoulder, wrapping both of them around my waist and leaning down, his arms on either side of me to hold himself up as he pushed himself inside me. I let out a soft moan. Roman rested his forehead on my collarbone, rocking his hips against mine. I let out a small whimper when he shoved all of himself inside of me abruptly.

Roman began to pick the pace up, pushing himself up again and looking down at me. I looked into his eyes for a few seconds, then closed my eyes.

I leaned my head back, letting out a breathy moan and screwing my eyes shut. Roman’s hand suddenly wrapped around my neck, squeezing gently. I let out a more audible moan, tightening my hand in his hair and arching my back, moaning as Roman thrusted inside of me at a decently fast pace. He slipped his hand off my throat and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. He watched me with his hypnotizing green eyes, his and my eyes both half lidded, as he let out the occasional groans and pants of pleasure.

Roman let a drip of spit fall past his lip onto his thumb and cupped my face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip, just as he had before, but with a now wet finger. I moved my head a little bit to slip his thumb into my mouth. Roman sent me a half curious look, but didn’t complain as he watched me suck on his thumb.

I let out a hushed moan, furrowing my eyebrows in lightly, letting his thumb go from my mouth in the process when he pushed all of his length inside me and I felt his balls hit me. Roman wrapped his hand around my neck again, squeezing lightly and giving a soft moan underneath his breath.

“Harder, daddy.” I moaned quietly. Roman’s face momentarily faltered to a shocked look, as if maybe he’d forgotten about the ‘daddy’ thing, but it didn't last long as he then began to thrust faster and harder into me. I groaned lightly, tightening my hand in his hair and arching my hips up a little bit, my chest pushing upwards. Roman continued at the same quick, hard pace, making me putty in his hands. It was almost a constant stream of moans that poured out of my mouth, that I had to focus hard on to keep quiet.

Roman leaned in, his body completely pressed against mine, down onto his elbows and kissed along my neck. I moaned, letting out a more audible whimper when his teeth nibbled harshly against my neck.

I felt a knot in my stomach, squeezing on Roman’s shoulder and letting out a moan, arching my hips up and burying my head back on the pillows.

“Oh, fuck, daddy. I’m gonna cum.” I mumbled against his shoulder. Roman gave a soft moan in my ear as a response, and sent me over the edge with one last deep, hard thrust. I let out a moan, screwing my eyes shut and pressing my forehead against his shoulder as I came, shortly afterwards Roman came as well, with a soft groan and a pant as he slowed down his thrusts afterwards.

After a minute of catching our breath, Roman pushed himself up and plopped down beside me, glancing at me lazily and looking over the parts of my body he could see, lighting a cigarette and offering me some after he sucked on it, letting out a puff of air. I took it, taking a drag and holding it while he took it from me and let it out towards the ceiling.

“You know, you should really get a therapist for your weird ass kinks.” I joked absentmindedly.

“Then what would I need you around for? Thumb-sucker.” He teased, puffing out a small circle with the smoke. I laughed lightly.

“That’s fair enough.” I pushed myself up after a few seconds and put my clothes back on, walking towards the door and glancing back at him. I felt my heart flutter at the sight of him already looking at me, and I nodded gently. “Goodnight, Roman.”

“Goodnight, Kasey.”

~

To be continued 

[ill-skillsgard]

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."

[sweetbillwriting]

Blue Angels - Chapter IV

Characters: AU Gordan Merkel from Atomic Blonde played by Bill Skarsgård. The rest is my own original characters.

Setting: This story is set in a country that is hard to find on a map, in a city without a name and in a time similar to our own with some exceptions.

Music: Ung & Kåt by Ebba Grön and Auriel's Ascension by Jeremy Soule.

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions about death, mentions about accidents, mental health problems.

Notes: A big thanks to @b-afterhours again for helping me with the language all the time!

The light shone in on us from the big window. Gordan's pale chest reflected the light and I looked at the dark hair around his nipples while he took my question in. He laughed a bit nervously and put his hand down the covers. I could see he touched his member.

"Fuck Ella…" he looked embarrassed and couldn't really look at me.

"Can I?" I asked again and smiled while I tugged the cover. He smiled bigger and then let go of the cover. I saw that as a yes and slowly dragged the cover down his body. When the cover was at his knees I took the view in. The long slim body. But he held his erection down with one hand and I just wanted to see everything of him. I laid my hand on his forearm, connected to the hand that he covered himself with. Carefully I patted his arm and with every stroke I came closer and closer to his hand. I heard him laugh bashfully again and when I met his eyes he let go of his erection causing it to bounce up. I let go of his eyes to look at his sex. It was big and clearly happy to see me.

"Sorry, I haven't trimmed in forever…"

It was cute how nervous he seemed to be. I smiled a little and with a firm hand I took a hold of his member and started slowly to stroke it. Gordan made a little whimpering sound and his whole body tensed up.

"Your cock is gorgeous…" I whispered. I don't know where the confidence came from. Maybe it was because he was so nervous or it was the regular "Gordan effect".

"Thank you," he said but his voice broke and he couldn't look at anything other than my hand stroking him. A bubble of precum came out from the tip which I caught with my thumb. I noticed the act made Gordan tense up even more but he soon had something else to think about when I just used it as a lube to pump him faster.

"I won’t last long…" he said, squeezing his eyes shut and he sounded like the act was painful.

"You're so sensitive… A tough guy like you…" I said teasingly and Gordan laughed between his moans.

"You don't make me tough…" he said and dragged his hands through his hair.

"Can I suck your cock a bit? Please?" I said as sexy as I could and stopped pumping him. I knew there would be a bigger chance of him saying yes if he thought I would otherwise stop all together. Gordan watched his cock twitch against his stomach. The veins were thick and it was a hot pink color, almost red.

I crawled up so that I sat between his legs and took off my dress and pantyhoose so I was just in my thin cotton underwear. Gordan swallowed hard and licked his lips.

"I should really stop this now…" It sounded like he was talking with himself. "But it feels like you really want my cock in your mouth… Right? I would like… Do you a favor?" He said groggy. I dragged my nails on the inside of his thighs and it made him clench his butt. I smirked.

"Yeah you would… Your cock is the only thing I could think about." I played with his balls and he slowly stroked his cock.

"Fuck… Bad girl… Take what you need then," he said with a smirk.

It was like he gave me a present. I was so happy that he let me suck his cock. If I had had my shit together a bit more I would have wondered if this was his plan all along. Getting me naked and begging for his cock but at that moment I was too happy to think that way. I replaced his hand around his cock with my own and then kissed the head. It answers with a little twitch. I even thought his cock was cute. I giggled and kissed it again like it was a cute puppy.

"You look so good…" whispered Gordan and patted my cheek and watched me lick his cock like a lollipop while I played with his balls. "Can you deepthroat all of it?"

I wanted to make him happy and tried to deepthroat so much of him as possible.

He sighed and leaned his head back.

"Good girl… Continue like that…" He said with a moan and I did as he said.

It was a struggle to do it but I could feel the moisture in my panties increase so much it started to feel like I had wet myself. I could feel my heartbeat in my pussy but also how I couldn't stop myself from clenching. I was forced to take a break from sucking Gordan to moan. My own orgasm was close even if I didn't even touch myself. Was I so horny about Gordan that I actually would come just from sucking his cock? I continued to lick his balls and then suck the head of his cock but I could still feel the wonderful feeling in my panties and it made it hard to concentrate when I continued to suck Gordan and he finally moaned louder.

"I’m going to come," he said and I sucked harder. I didn't want anything else other than to drink his cum greedily. It also felt like my own orgasm would explode if I just could get his cum down my throat but Gordan had another plan.

"Ella, I’m coming now…" he was forced to push me away harshly because I was on him like a leech. He came over his stomach even if it looked like he tried to catch it with hands. I looked at him annoyed and disappointed, in the way only an absent orgasm could make you. God, I hated him at that moment. Gordan breathed heavily and dried his stomach and hands with the cover.

"Wow, Ella." He said and laughed a little. I wasn't happy at all. Why didn't he let me take his cum? If he had let me I also would have came.

Gordan watched my disappointed face and looked ashamed.

"I'm sorry…" he said and covered himself with the cover.

"I will never understand you," I said and put my dress on.

Gordan was quiet as he watched me with his big eyes. He probably didn't say anything because he didn't want me to understand him. Him and all his secrets. I sighed and took my pantyhose in hand and then marched out from his room. I even closed it hard to really point out that I was mad.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower. He made me feel dirty. I had never met a guy who didn't want me to take his load. But that wasn't the only thing. When I thought about it it actually seemed like Gordan didn't even want me to blow him. He had made me feel like he did me a favor, he even said that out loud. How pathetic was I? I somehow knew that I wasn't just in love with Gordan, I was probably a bit obsessed with him. I thought too much about him and even when I tried to think about other things I still gave myself a reason to think of him. I listened to punk, I had bought myself a long black coat similar to his and I did my make up with glitter every day just because he had said he likes me in glitter. All my life had become a manifestation to Gordan. I thought again about the blow job and cringed. I had actually been close to an orgasm without some sort of touch. I most often had a hard time coming with guys at all while Gordan didn't even need to touch me. He was magical. He maybe was an angel. Maybe a blue one just like in Marta's painting, because he wasn't a regular one.

*

It was a bit stiff between me and Gordan after that but I couldn't stop myself from wanting to be close to him anyway. I just choose to be a bit more quiet. It was December and I was going home to my parents for Christmas. Gordan would go away after Christmas but I was forced to say goodbye to him much earlier just because I would go home. I said goodbye to Marta and then Gordan followed me to the bus station. The same route as the first time we met. He was just as quiet as then, carrying my stuff.

"So when will we meet again?" I asked him at the bus station. He sat my bag down and thought about my question.

"Second of March. I’ll come home then so I hope you are here then," he said and corrected his leather gloves on his hands. They were a Christmas gift from me after he had complained about his cold hands. He had given me a pair of Dr Martens because he thought it was stupid that walked in Converse in the winter. I had hoped for something more romantic but I was still happy that he had given me a gift.

"Of course," I said and smiled a bit. Even if the past weeks had been strained between us I hoped for a kiss. His kisses were too good and I knew I would feel better by just one.

"Ehhm yeah…" he looked at the bus. "Bye then," he spread his arms for a hug and I welcomed it. He still smelled like the rain.

"Can I get a kiss?" I said. Where did this confidence come from? He laughed a little.

"If you promise me that you will not get pissed because I can't give you more," He tried to say it jokingly but I could see in his face that it was real worry.

I nodded and then stood up on my toes so he could kiss me. He smiled a little and gave me a kiss. His lips were soft and so was the kiss but it still was such a good kiss that created warmth and euphoria in my body.

*

That Christmas felt long and tiring. Everything was as it used to be but I just wanted the new in life. The new being Gordan. I didn't have energy or interest for my family but I tried hard to listen to their talks. Behind my back I could hear them talk about me, the word depression came up again, as it always did when I wasn't as they expected. I told them about Marta, the fashionable old lady I lived with but I didn't tell them about Gordan. They would just ask too much and then I would just get sad. Sad because I missed him but also because it felt like he could never have that role I fantasized about him having.

I came back in the beginning of January to Marta. It was obvious she handled things without Gordan better than I did. She had had a big New Years Eve party and she was forced to get cleaners because it had become so wild. I was happy for her but felt even more gray compared to her.

"How are you holding up?" She asked me while we sat on her sofa with a red wine glass each.

"I miss Gordan," I said honestly. She nodded.

"I remember how I was in the beginning with him… Everytime he left me it felt like I was close to the edge." I didn't like when she talked like she knew what I went through. Gordan and my relationship was so different from theirs. At the same time was it nice to talk to Marta because she was the only one that understood what an impact Gordan had over you.

"It will get better. I actually feel… Well, happy even if he isn't here," said Marta. I nodded a bit. That I couldn't believe. Gordan was my sun. God, I was pathetic.

*

"Ella! Ella! Wake up!” said Marta hysterically. She was in my room in the middle of the night.

"What?" I whined and pulled the cover over my head.

"It's Gordan! His ship..! It was a fire!"

"What?" I sat up and looked at Marta. She just stood in her long nightgown and her white hair wild around her head.

"Ella do something!"

I looked around confused and fiddled with my hands.

"We must call someone…?" I said, confused by the situation.

"Who??"

"...His work?"

"Okay, do it then!"

I rubbed my face and stood up from my bed. I was completely naked but Marta didn't seem to react to that. I put on a Gordan's robe and looked around.

"Do we have a number?" I asked.

Marta had the number to Gordan's job. I didn't know where it went but I thought it was some sort of exchange. I shaked while calling on Marta's old Cobra phone. I didn't really hear what the woman that answered said, I just rabbled out my matter.

"Gordan Merkel?" She said.

"Yeah, I think he works on the loading deck."

It was quiet on the line.

"Yeah, Gordan works here but he isn't working now. His next job is at the beginning of February."

I was quiet and tried to take in what she had said.

"If you believe he was on the ship as a passenger you can go down to our office by the harbor. They are open now to give information."

I nodded even if she wouldn't see that then I hung up. Marta stood next to me and fiddled with her nightgown.

"He doesn't work," I said and tried to take in the words again.

Marta looked incomprehensible to me.

"He must have lied." I said and looked down at my hands. Marta shook her head.

"I talked to him. He called from the boat. Their line. Can he have been on as a passenger?"

I shrugged my shoulders but then remembered the woman's word.

"...They have an office down by the harbor… Should I go down there?"

Marta nodded hysterically.

"Of course! What if something has happened to Gordan and we don't know!!"

I felt pain in my chest and throat because of her words. Yes, of course I must go down. This was Gordan. Who cares if he had lied.

I more or less ran to the harbor. Dressed in sweatpants and one of Gordan's knitted sweaters. If it wasn't because of my anxiety and stress I would have been cold in the snowy January weather but now I didn't feel a thing. The office was full of people, private people but also reporters and journalists. I sat down on a plastic chair and took a deep breath. This was crazy. Gordan, the angel, the light, maybe was dead. He may have drowned or been burned inside. Maybe he had gotten burned. Got his perfect weird face melted away. My legs jumped up and down while I waited.

"Can I help you?" A girl behind the desk asked me. She was pretty in a Scarlett Johansson way and for a short second I wondered if maybe she was Gordan's girlfriend. What did I even know about the boy?

I stood up and went to the desk.

"I was wondering if Gordan Merkel was on board the ship." The girl nodded a bit.

"Wait a second." She went through a doorway behind the desk and then around a corner. I looked at a man that was crying next to me in front of the desk. Maybe that would be me soon. The girl came back and then smiled a bit.

"Yes, together with Francesca Edelman. He is at a hospital and is okay. She is okay as well."

*

[emmyrosee]

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.”

[emmyrosee]

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.

[hecohansen31]

KINKTOBER (20: Loss of Virginity)

Gordan Merkel+Poet! Reader:

Hey lovelies!

This is my first fic on Merkel ever, so if you ever want to anymore asks, please let me know!

Also the concept of this belongs to the lovely @emmyrosee so please check out her blog, because we stan (1) queen, much love to you!

From the list of prompts by @rougepetale​.

SUMMARY: It was fate who brought them together, but it is war separating them. Will their last goodbye be hurtful or sweet?

WARNINGS: Loss of Virginity/ Unprotected Sex (... don’t do like Merkel... wrap it up)/Oral Sex (Female Receiving).

You and Merkel had basically grown up together, childhood friends since the start.

So, when he had joined the “Resistance” you hadn’t stopped at nothing to follow him, in your own way.

You had always been good with words, they flowed so easily from your mouth and onto the paper page that you couldn’t help but write what you felt, being repressed by a competitive regime, that stopped others from expressing themselves and meet again with their family, from which they were separated by the big and feared Wall.

You hadn’t thought you could become such a phenomenon but once your brother, who worked on the streets alongside Merkel had told you that the Stasi had started wondering who was “the bitch, who wrote those offending poems that they found everywhere in the city”.

You had started writing even more dramatic poems, speaking more freely and eventually it got you caught.

The fact that even international espionage agencies had started being involved in Berlin was enough for Merkel to freak out and order you out of the country, getting somebody to bring you with them abroad in secret.

But you hadn’t wanted to leave him and this had made you start an argument with him.

“You fucking don’t understand, (Y/N)!” he screamed at you, making you back up into the wall, where you stood onto, shielding your body slightly with your hands and Merkel backed immediately up understanding your discomfort “… I can’t have you running around, putting yourself in dangerous situation, anymore, the situation is fucking serious!”.

“…I know, Merkel” you weren’t stupid so you knew perfectly what he meant “…but it would break my heart to leave you here”.

“You don’t understand how much it hurts me” he mumbled, whispering slowly and grabbing your hand, bringing it to his cheeks, flamed and hot due to his own rage mixed with the love he felt for you.

The girl he had always considered nothing more than an annoying bother, always clutching at him, was now the one he would die for, had anything happened to you.

Like it might happen during those times.

Not only he was having trouble dealing with Percival, but the new agent from the UK didn’t make it easy for him and all he wanted was to have just one less thought, with you away somewhere safe…

… somewhere far away from him.

It pained him to think about it, but knowing you safe brought him more comfort than knowing you in Eastern Berlin, risking your life.

“… but it is the only way out of this I see” he mumbled softly, his voice becoming a whisper meanwhile he brought you in a strict hug, feeling you sniffle in his arms, slowly becoming more and more loose in his arms, giving yourself up to your own fate.

“I don’t…” you mumbled meanwhile a sob shook your tiny body, so tiny in his arms and so frail “… don’t think that I can live without you, Gordan”.

He gently kissed your forehead and then pushed back to look at you in the face, muttering softly.

“You can and you will” he promised you, watching deeply in your eyes, before softness overtook him and he find himself strangely tearing up a bit “… how will I survive without you constantly annoying me?”.

You pushed him away, with a dark stare in your face, giggling shyly at his own joke, meanwhile you taunted him with a few fists to his chest, with had no effect on him although he faked to surrender under them.

But one hit him just right and you found yourself tumbling on the floor with him, one on top of the other.

You were confused by the sudden situation, not knowing if you had gone further than your usual friendship, mostly since Gordan’s lips were just under yours, a slight pressure towards the ground and you…

… he kissed you before, it was so sudden that you were taken aback, but quickly relaxed yourself into it, letting him take the lead to what was a sweet kiss, a farewell of some sorts and wanting more, desperately.

Even more with the way he grasped your clothes tight, almost wanting to rip them from your body.

You had to stop him, more to calm your quickening heart and regain your stolen breath, than from true disgust or rejection.

“I am sorry” he muttered, confused and not knowing whether he had wronged you or…

“… does your heart beat as quick as mine?” your hand pushed itself onto his chest and felt his heart rapidly beats against it, effectively answering your question ”…I have been feeling like this since I first met you, and you were nothing but an arrogant older boy”.

“… so… you can sprout insults but I can’t…” he mumbled, getting another hit on his chest, but a kiss to his lips soothed him.

And before you knew it, you were on the small bed of your childhood room, with your childhood friend, holding you closer to him than you thought was possible, meanwhile he laid sweet kisses onto your body, not forgetting any spot, as if he wanted to commit every part of your body to his memory.

The thought made you almost feel as if you already were missing him, as if he was already gone from your life.

You tightened your grip on him, and grabbed his hair in your hands, meanwhile he went down on you, sharing your juices with him, as he gently rubbed your clit, making you feel better and taking for a bit your mind off the dreadful thought of being separated by on ocean.

He brought you over the edge, after holding you onto it for quite a bit.

And then his member rubbed against your tender skin, still sensitive from you high, and you couldn’t help but blush a bit, slightly stilling in his close grip.

Something which didn’t go unnoticed by him, who gently peppered your face and neck with small kisses to make you relax and face him.

“What is wrong, little katze?” he mumbled as soon as he got your attention, no matter that you tried to avoid staring him in his beautiful eyes, eventually giving up and whispering your little secret.

“You are my first, Gordan”.

This left him wide-eyed and a smirk appeared on his face and you hid your face to your side, muttering something about making his ego just stronger, pushing him away, but he just made you face again, gently brushing his member against your clit, making you arch onto the bed.

“… I’ll make it special, if you want me to be your first” he said, caressing your sweaty hair out of your face, tracing with his thumb your lips “… I would have bought candles and flowers and all the shit, had I know it… and if you want to wait… we can…”.

“I don’t need “all that shit”, Gordan” you giggled, this time being the one that made him blush “… I just need you, and the thought of losing you, makes me so so…”.

“I don’t want to rush you…” he whispered onto your lips, before he laid a kiss there and you couldn’t help but smile into it.

“…I am ready, Gordan” you muttered, against his lips, caressing them one last time with yours “… I don’t want anybody else other than you, as my first”.

You saw tears shine again in Gordan’s eyes, but he ducked them down quickly to focus on the task ahead, entering you slowly and letting you get adjusted to it, meanwhile you hissed due to the painful intrusion.

Quickly Gordan’s hand joined yours and his lips went to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, meanwhile he gently started moving as you squeezed back his hand, giving him the possibility to move, in you.

And with that you lost your last drop of innocence, blood coating the sheets as you laid in each other’s arms once it was all done, a phantom pain gently sobbing between your legs, but the knowledge that your last memory of your best-friend-turned-lover was so sweet, soothed any pain.

You would miss him, but you knew you would meet again.

You had grown up together, fallen in love and you had no doubt love and happiness were in your future.

You just had to wait.

---

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[emmyrosee]

Um, I'm going to need you to continue that Merkel x Baby ask where she finds out he's looking to move her. PLEASE. 💔

JUST FOR YOU BABY🥺💕

———

He wants to tuck her into his neck. He wants to hold her so close that she forgets why she’s even crying. He wants to make her feel safe. Protected.

Loved.

Merkel finally settles on the word love. It’s not easy for him to accept, but it’s definitely it. The way he feels when she sneaks into his room at night to cuddle because she can’t sleep. The way he feels when he makes baby her favorite breakfast. The way he feels when he comes home after a long goddamned day and she’s in his bed, half naked with some silly rope for bondage but the poor girl fell asleep.

And Merkel loves her too much to make her stay.

“Please,” She continues to beg, snapping Merkel out of his thoughts. “Please, please, please-“

“This is for you,” he assures, crouching in front of her. He gently grabs her cheeks, making her look at him. “I’m doing this for you.”

“They’ll kill me,” She echoes from earlier. “They’ll kill me, Mr Merkel. I’m sorry, please forgive me... I’ll be good, I swear I’ll be good-“ her hands clasp over his, and she kisses them out of mercy, almost as if a sign to hand herself to him entirely. To swear her goodness and to make sure he knew that she was going to be nothing more than a fly on his wall.

Merkel wracks his brain for an excuse. He can’t say anything about the other night. He won’t. “They won’t kill you,” he says, though his faith in how genuine he sounds isn’t exactly solid.

“Yes, they will,” she hisses through clenched teeth as she stands up. She’s breathing like a caged animal, eyes full of molten lava and hatred. “And you fucking know it, Merkel.”

She’ll never know how much that lack of “Mr” hurts Merkel. The “Mr” was a sign of respect. A sign of trust in authority. A trust in him.

He never expects “Gordan,” but “Mr Merkel” is who he is now.

“I don’t care where you go,” he spits hotly. “But you can’t stay here.”

“Why!” She screams. “Why! You’re suddenly too good of a rebel? Too good to house someone? Hey, why don’t you just fucking turn me in for the money! Then you can get a nice, new car and name it after me while you wheel your new bitches around town!”

“It’s not about the money-“

“Well I’m gonna die anyways, the least I could do is pay for your next big break-“

“I don’t want to kick you out!” He barks, grabbing her shoulders. She looks up at him in hatred- nothing but hatred- and in his gaze is nothing but.

There’s something so delicious in a post-fight kiss. Merkel’s addicted to it. The firey possession, the struggle for dominance, the complete focus on making the other one seem weak. And despite the amount of times she’s been trapped under Merkel’s dominance, she’s just as powerful as he.

She pushes him, “you’re such a fucking asshole.” The insult barely does anything to quell the desire building in Merkel’s soul, and judging by the way her leg is hooking around his waist, heel digging straight into his tailbone, she feels no different either.

They stumble down the hallway, demolishing two lamps and a small table in the process. He pushes her on the bed, and they’re both quick to remove all their clothes.

“Fuck You,” she growls, tugging at the fluffy parts of his hair.

“Yes,” he says flatly, sucking hard along her neck. “I fucking want to.”

[emmyrosee]

ok so baby's stuck in the apartment all the time, so i highkey HC that they role-play often and that, despite being a rebel, merkel is quite bad at it

HA-

Like baby’s planned a whole kinky ass night together with role playing and everything, expecting Merkel to be a good actor and be able to go along with it pretty well.

Well.

Mans is talented with a lot of things... pretending that baby is a nurse who has to give him an exam is not one of them.

“Bend over, Mr Merkel,” she purrs with a wink. And he looks at the nearest piece of furniture and is just like “here?”

And after trying to GET HIM IN THE FUCKING BEDROOM, he’s like “you kEEP CALLING ME MR MERKEL-“

“BECAUSE THATS YOUR N A M E-“

“YEAH BUT I DONT KNOW IF YOURE PLAYING OR NOT, KID!”

Ugh.

Someone teach this poor baby how to seduce🥺❤️

[emmyrosee]

Can we talk about Merkel for a second? I've been dying to talk about Merkel. So first off he's obvs stuck in east berlin so his pop culture is not that great, but he defiantly has a stash of western contraband like some records, a couple of books, and several playboys that the fugitive may or may not have came across

“Can we talk about Merkel-“ I WOULD BE OFFENDED IF WE DIDNT😫

Because I absolutely love and agree with this. And it’s probably hidden somewhere super duper secret, more secretive than YOU, so one day he forgets to hide you in the room (that’ll make sense in on the run) and you just kinda look around, smirking as you find photo albums and all this super embarrassing stuff.

And his records are probably really good, something you wouldn’t expect from someone like him- like he’s so static and plain that you don’t expect the rock music and the copious amounts of alcohol and everything he’s hiding.

But then you peel a book from a box and suddenly... there’s just- there’s just everything. Boobs, asses, the occasional spread eagle, the passing femdom, there’s nothing you can’t find in these magazines.

And you feel yourself blushing because you were snooping and you shouldn’t have but this is MERKEL, the super secret rebel that only houses you because he’s such a rebel, and now there’s women in leather glaring at you from the magazine, slicked back hair and whip in her hands from the secret box that Merkel was hiding.

And there’s so. Many. Magazines. There’s no doubt you get lost, imagining the pinched, contorted-pleasured-face of Gordan Merkel as he slowly jerks himself dry to these pictures and-

The magazine gets ripped from your hand as Merkel towers over you, face completely red.

“You uh.... you weren’t supposed to find those.”

[emmyrosee]

I'm a slut for makeup sex with merkel and for just merkel in general i guess

There is minimal I wouldn’t let that man do to me and that’s the tea🤷🏻‍♀️

Can we talk about though? Just how hot it would be? Doesn’t even have to be part of the fugitive plot line. Maybe you just hate the insanely dangerous work he’s in.

And there’s just bruises and bite marks, scratches down the e n t i e r t y of his wide, broad back, hickeys in places where there shouldn’t be, just a complete mess of you and him as you completely destroy each other.

Afterwards, neither of you can move. His hair is a mess, yours looks like a set of birds moved in, and the dried spit glistening along his back as he lays on his stomach towards you sends more swirls of desire around.

Ugh.

UGHHHH

[emmyrosee]

I mean in his defense... hiding a fugitive 100% destroyed his sex life for a while and like my mans got needs ya know?

Nah you right.

Although.....

Although.

Imagine the first time he does bring a girl back to his place because you’ve been sick and not really leaving your room, so he gets the clear to bring someone home, and he does.

And they’re getting busy and freaky, and she just so happens to look over his shoulder and she shrieks and pushes him away like it’s bloody murder, and when he tries to calm his lady friend down she just shoves him away and sprints away from the house, tig ol bitties flapping in the wind.

And of course baby is confused because like... what just happened, and when he looks up he just sees you standing in the doorframe, his clothes hanging from your frame and juice on the shirt.

“Mr. Merkel?”

“What.”

“I need a new nightshirt.”

Mans needs those magazines and to pray to god for a sign to not kill you

[emmyrosee]

Hey. So uh

A. Roman

B. Merkel

C. Mean!AHA

👀👀