#gordon merkel atomic blonde

[emmyrosee]

Bill Skarsgard & Co.

Status: Archived Indefinitely

Axel Cluney from Deadpool 2

Gordon Merkel from Atomic Blonde

Henry Pearl from Battlecreek

Mark from Assassination Nation

Mickey from Villains

 Roman Godfrey from Hemlock Grove

The Kid from Castle Rock

Willard Russell from The Devil All The Time

Mateo from Soulmates

Preference Lists, Starring All of Them

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

I need Bill skarsgård x reader asap please someone make fanfic of him I swear to god,He's so fine. I need more fanfics of this man in real life and his characters that he plays like I'm begging 😭 😩 😫 🙏

[evrensadwrn]

oh you cunt merkel

[1liv]

Bill Skarsgård as Merkel in ATOMIC BLONDE (2017)

[kingkat12]

thoughts on gordon merkel from atomic blonde? sorry i just watched that movie and bill is so cute in it😭

my thought is that I HAVE TO SEE THIS MOVIE?? I can't believe that I haven't seen it yet😭 but I've seen the gifs and some clips and HAVE to agree he looks mighty fine (as always)... will have to come back to this when I get out of my writing cave long enough to watch a movie!!!!

LIKE LOOK?? HELLO??

[anastasiaskarsgard]

Happy destruction

Gordon Merkel was not having a good night. Scratch that. The whole week had been an utter shit show. This was just the absolute most annoying way to end it.

“Why am I always chosen for these assignments? I’m not the youngest agent and I definitely don’t enjoy the music.” He complained into his phone.

Looking around, it was hard to believe that anything was going on. The endless warehouses in every direction, and sub par lighting hardly helped illuminate the area. Not that anyone would want to look at the gray block walls or dirty concrete, but it left a lot to be desired. If it weren’t for the pounding telltale bass, he’d swear he was in the wrong place.

“That’s exactly why you’re the best man for the job. You won’t get distracted by the pretty lights, and I don’t have to mention avoiding the scantily clad women as well.” His boss chuckled over the secured line. “It should be so loud, no one will even notice he’s dead till you’re long gone. I will be waiting on the confirmation.”

With that, the line went dead and Merkel stepped out of his vehicle. Glancing around, he lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale. Letting the nicotine calm his frazzled nerves, he closed his eyes, wishing for silence. He hated being an assassin. He’d much rather gather intel or get documents. He had no issue with being support for someone else that he knew killed people. He just never was able to not be bothered by being the cause.

He loved his job. It definitely wasn’t boring and he felt like sometimes he was really making a difference, but then jobs like this came along and he questioned if maybe he’d given up everything for petty bullshit.

In his line of work, he couldn’t have any attachments. No relationships or entanglements. He wasn’t allowed to get close to anyone or offer any type of transparency to anyone. He constantly was moving around and changing identities, so even if he did make the error of getting attached, he put that person in danger from the enemy and his own organization as well.

He’d always been a lone wolf and liked his solitude. Women were never a challenge and only interested him for shallow carnal interactions. He’d never been infatuated or obsessed over anyone with a pulse. Work was his entire universe and he rarely second guessed it.

Except when he had to go in a noisy night club full of sweaty people, and seek out a needle in a haystack. To add some more aggravation, he had to take out a target in the organized chaos, and then get out before the army of idiot meat head bouncers took notice.

“What look are you going for? Fucking mobster ?”

Merkel’s eyes popped open and he turned jerkily to an apparent fairy girl. Long silken tresses, elaborate make up, drawing attention to large blue eyes and full pouty lips only added to the glittery bra and skirt finished off with large purple wings. What this stunning girl was doing in this area escaped him a moment before realizing she was likely there for the same club that he was. L

Not able to stop himself, he laughed heartily at the girls expense before asking her what the fuck she was. “Let me guess! The tooth fairy? Sparkle fairy? Am I close?”

The girl crossed her arms and glared. “This is a happy hardcore event.”

“Obviously.” He stated, gesturing to her ensemble with his cigarette. “Thanks for your concern, but I hardly think a designer suit will be looked down on in a club.”

“It’s a good thing you’re so pretty, cuz you sure are fucking dumb. How did a guy like you even hear about this? I hardly think it’s your scene.”

Not comfortable with all the questions, he dropped his cigarette and turned to make his way towards the underground club in the warehouse district and get this over with.

“It’s just you’re really gonna stand out and look like a cop or something, and then no one will like you. I’m all about PLUR. Plus you’re a very pretty boy.”

Freezing mid stride, he had to admit she brought a great point forward. If everyone in there looked like Ms sparkle tits right here, he would stand out and that was never a good thing when you were trying to get in and get out with little notice. But he really didn’t want to know what the male counterpart of her get up was.

Cursing his superiors, and his profession, he turned around offering his most playful smile. “Well then I hope you have some idea of how to make me acceptable. Make over maybe? I’m all out of wings and glitter unfortunately-“

“Lucky for you, I always come preparede!” The fairy girl squealed, reaching out and snatching his hand. “Come to my car and we can make you presentable! I have the perfect vision if you trust me.” Pulling him along, he couldn’t help but smirk at her enthusiasm.

“I have a hard time trusting people.”

“That’s sad but it’s ok. I will fix that.” She smiled back at him.

Lifting a single brow incredulously, he did a scan of the area to be sure she wasn’t leading him to a dark corner to get robbed by some amateur.

Stopping at a large Mercedes SUV, the cars lights flashed as the car seemed to sense her near. Opening the tailgate with a push of a hidden button, the back revealed an assortment of brightly colored accessories. “Jesus you weren’t kidding.” He mused.

“Take your shirt off.” She demanded as she began to paw through her items.

“But you havent even bought me dinner.” He teased as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He hadn’t really had any fun lately, and eventhough this girl was bossy, she seemed pretty fun. The more he looked at her, the better looking he realized she was as well. Underneath all the make up and glitter and wings was a very nice body and gorgeous face. His target may just be gifted with a few more hours. “Seriously though, isn’t it dangerous to meet strange men, lead them down a dark alley and get them naked?”

Huffing indignantly, she turned scanning his torso up and down, “I’m an excellent judge of character and you’re harmless. Not exactly a gentleman, but a good guy.”

Merkel bit back his scoff and just nodded in agreement. She really was just too cute. Terrible fucking judge of character however. “What’s your name?” He asked before he could really think about it.

“Lark. Yours?”

“just Lark? No last name?” He stalled, as he went through his aliases and tried to decide on the most fitting one for the city that he also was willing to throw away since he’d never be able to use it again. He had 5 different IDs on him, and was certain this place would card.

“Lark Stark. I know, it’s horrible. My dad and his sense of humor.”

Gordon’s stomach dropped, but his smile never wavered. His targets last name was Stark. He owned the place along with most of the rest of the warehouses in this district. He hadn’t been told what he’d done to become a target, but none of the people he went after were upstanding citizens. They were the worst of the worst. Human traffickers, drug lords, serial killers for hire, weapons smugglers, enemies to their countries and the list went on. He instantly looked at her more cautiously now. No children of the evil elite were innocent. At least knowing that fact, would make it easier not to feel guilty when he ducked her over.

“My name is nearly as bad. Bruce Wayne.” He needed to get rid of that alias anyway. Seemed like a funny joke at the time, but it stuck out too much.

Lark burst into giggles. “No it’s not! That’s funny. We both have superhero alter ego last names. I think we’re soulmates.”

“Obviously.” Full smile.

“Ok now let me finish.” She said before getting back to drawing all over his face and body.

It appeared she was just going to put brightly colored black light paint all over him and hopefully call it good.

Not really able to see what she was doing to him, he just decided to let her have her way. Besides, the more shit she put on him, the harder he’d be to identify. He couldn’t help but admire her face as she made the cutest look of concentration. Every time their eyes met, she’d blush adorably. He really wanted to fuck her.

Finally stepping back to admire her work, before jumping up and down and clapping, he was all set to go dance his little heart out with the gorgeous glitter fairy, and maybe even get his rocks off with her in some dark corner or bathroom. Since her dad owned the joint, maybe there was a secret room he could properly fuck her in. She really was nice to help him like this, and she seemed like she was a ray of sunshine, even in the darkest places. He at least wanted to show her some kindness in return. Make her feel as beautiful as she obviously is.

Right before he killed her dad and never saw her again.

Grabbing his hand again, she swung their arms and started telling him about the DJs playing, and a bunch of music he’d never heard of. He wasn’t really listening, just watching her face as she spoke. She was so hot. Too bad he’d never see her again after this.

Coming to a halt at a non descript door, she knocked a certain pattern, and turned to him smiling.

“I think the entrance is actually around the corner,” he said helpfully. He figured she was aware of that, but he wasn’t going to act like he knew anything about anything.

“Not when you’re with a VIP.”

He didn’t know what came over him but he reached out and pulled her to him so they were nose to nose. “You’re really pretty.” He breathed out before kissing her passionately. The door opened, but he wasn’t done. Nipping at her bottom lip before pulling away and turning to the shocked door guy, he tried to will away his erection that was speedily making itself known.

“Hi Bruno!” She shouted happily before pulling “Bruce” along behind her. “This is my boyfriend Bruce. It’s pretty serious.” Turning back, she winked.

“Might as well just say fiancé and go all out. Your ring clashed with your fairy look.”

Laughing out loud, eyes sparkling, she danced as she lead him along towards a large bar. “What would you like?” She shouted over the pounding bass.

“Surprise me!” He yelled back. Taking a look around his surroundings, he noticed several people were watching them. So much for not getting noticed.

“Are you a slut?”

Merkel would of choked if he had been drinking something. “Excuse me?”

“Are you a slut?” She asked nonplussed, “it’s just I don’t want to be seen with some pretty man whore that half the girls in the room have fucked and look like an even bigger idiot.”

Merkel for the first time that evening, considered the feelings of the girl before him. She was trying to put on a brave face, but she had obvious tells he was trained to pick up on. She had bitten her lip a bit so it was slightly swollen on one side, her toe was grinding into the floor, and a piece of her perfectly curled hair, looked like it’d been chewed on at some point. He’d noticed earlier that her cuticles looked abused as well. All signs of anxiety or some type of insecurity.

Grabbing her hand and pulling her into a hug so she could hear him in the ridiculously loud club, he soothed, “I’m not a slut, I’m not a saint either. I travel a lot and cannot be a boyfriend, but I would love to spend the evening with you. You’re extremely gorgeous and I have no expectations, I’d just really like to know you.”

Pulling back to see her face, she offered the most breathtaking smile that literally took his breath away.

Later he would look back and realize that right at that moment, he should of turned around, run away, and never looked back.

[hiddlelecki]

..I have been putting off fixing his hair for two. years. Until today.😅

[skarsgod]

Gordon Merkel.

[romangodfreyownsmyass]

Bill Skarsgård character text message headcannons: “Text your boyfriend a picture of a beauty blender and ask him what it is.”

[jackandjackiekennedylover]

More then one

Imagine Axel Cluney from Deadpool 2 and Gordon Merkel from Atomic Blonde meet Roman Godfrey from Hemlock Grove and you have a surprise for Roman at the end .

Um. Why am I seeing three of you and please tell me why, You asked ?

We have a huge problem, Roman said .

Who are those two, You asked ?

I'm Gordon Merkel, Merkel said.

I’m Axel Cluney, Axel said .

Nice to meet you two, You said .

How is this possible and why do you guys look like me, Roman asked ?

We are from different worlds and the look likes that I don't know, Merkel said .

Why do you wear a mask axel, You asked ?

The reason why I wear a mask is bc I spit acid, Axel said .

Oh ok, You said .

That is just creepy and weird as fuck, Both Merkel and Roman said

Stop judging him and I didn't judge you for being an upir, You said as you smack Roman behind the head .

Ow. What the hell y/n, Roman said as he rubs where you had smack him at .

It's your own fault, You mumbled .

Why didn't you smack him to, Roman said as he points at Merkel .

Merkel stared at you with a look .

I'm good and he isn't my husband, You said .

Roman glared at you .

Stop glaring at me and that is getting old fast and you always do it when you don't get your way, You said with a smirk.

Shut up, Roman mumbled .

We can tell that you two have been married for a long time by how you two act around each other, Both Axel and Merkel said .

That isn't your fucking business, Roman snapped .

Roman Istvan Bill Godfrey will you stop that and you are embarrassing me, You said with glared .

I'm so sorry about him, You said .

It's alright and I had seen worse then Roman, Merkel said .

Back to your question. We have been married for three years and a half and it's always like this but not this bad, You said .

How do you handle Roman, Axel asked ?

I love him so much and some days he is nice and he isn't always like this now, You said .

I feel bad for you, Merkel said.

It's alright and we love each other and we have fights but we make up all the time and I can't live without Roman bc I love him so much and he has my heart, You said with a smile .

I love you too, Roman said as he smiles at you .

Um. I have something that I need to tell you and I'm a little scared of how you are going to react to this, You said.

What is it, Roman asked?

Roman. I'm pregnant, You said .

Roman eyes widened as he stares at you before a huge grin came upon his face .

I'm going to be a father, Roman said as he looks into your eyes .

Yes. You are going to be a dad, You said with a smile .

I love you so much, Roman said before he pulls you into a kiss .

I love you too, You said as you kiss him back .

[skarsgard-daydreams]

Merkel's powers of observation are put to good use in his romantic entanglements. He reads the raised hairs on your arm when he trails his fingers down your spine and follows the sound of your breath catching in your throat to discover new ways to make you surrender to his touch. He knows that when you stare out the window late at night and say that you're fine, you're really not. You just don't want to talk about it. He wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your temple before murmuring softly, "Come back to bed." He knows when to be soft and when to push you to do more than you thought possible. But when you look at his face, it is inscrutable. Whatever turmoil lurks behind his hazel eyes, he masks it with an air of cool detachment that could fool the most clever observer. You have learned to read him through music. Each record carries its own emotional weight, signifying more than the sum total of its parts. When he listens to Wagner, it means he's nostalgic for afternoons spent practicing piano with his grandmother. You think that must have been the last time his life felt simple. When he puts on the Sex Pistols, you know the anger he carries is simmering just below the surface. You let him smoke as many cigarettes as he wants and tug on his hair when he kisses you, meeting his fire with your own until you both extinguish each other for lack of oxygen. Pink Floyd means that he's been wounded and Depeche Mode means that he's contrite. On the days he listens to David Bowie, you think you see his ideal self: a man who loves deeply and lives freely without fear of retribution. You find Merkel listening to "Rebel, Rebel" in the kitchen when you get home from work. His hair falls into his face as he practices the guitar fingering on the edge of the counter, waiting for a pot of water to boil on the stove. You linger in the doorway and smile to yourself as you watch him. His gaze flickers over to you. "Why are you smiling like that?" he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug. "It's a good song." He studies you for a moment, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He knows you're hiding something, but he'll get it out of you eventually.

[emmyrosee]

Gordon Merkel

I WOULDN’T BE CAUGHT DEAD IN IT.

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 

[scxrsgxrd]

When in Moscow

Hello lovely friends! I wanted to start this by saying thank you for sticking with me and being so patient🖤this idea just came to me a few weeks ago and I really enjoyed writing it, which felt great after being so frustrated with writer’s block. I hope you guys enjoy it too! I’d love to hear your feedback🖤

WARNINGS: 18+ mentions of smoking, alcohol and sex.

The winter temperatures of Moscow were some of the harshest Merkel had ever encountered, for no mater how many thick woollen layers you wore, no matter how tightly you wrapped your coat around yourself, the biting cold still found a way to burrow into your skin and cause an almost stinging sensation. He silently cursed himself for once again ignoring his intuitions and packing his fingerless gloves over the mittens his mother had knitted for him last Christmas. The cigarette he held between his thumb and forefinger was quivering as his fingers twitched, his nails beginning to turn a light shade of blue as the wind howled around him in an almost mocking manner.

A scoff left him as he watched the end of his cigarette burn out after a particularly harsh gust of wind engulfed him, almost knocking him to the ground as his coat flew up behind him like an animated superhero cape. He sighed and placed the cigarette between his lips, digging his scratched old lighter out of his pocket and shielding the flame with his other hand as he managed to re-light his cigarette after a few unsuccessful attempts.

As he puffed out a misty cloud of smoke he caught a glimpse of two burly looking men out the corner of his eye. They were stood directly across from Merkel, leaning against a beat up Lada Riva car as he felt as though their eyes were boring holes into his face. One man leaned over and whispered something into the other’s ear, not so subtly nodding over at Merkel after he did so, cracking his knuckles as a rather childish act of intimidation. Merkel let out a soft chuckle. These were the exact type of guys he was expecting to be on his trail; tall, muscular, bearded KGB men, ready to complete the dirty work of whoever’s hit list Merkel was on this time.

Merkel shifted up the sleeve of his coat and glanced at his watch; he didn’t have time for Soviet mind games, not tonight. On another occasion Merkel would’ve taunted these men, but not tonight. He had a promise that had to be fulfilled. So Merkel threw down his cigarette butt, making sure to rub the ball of his boot over it until the orange embers had completely died out. Taking one last glance at the men still staring intently at him, he delivered a curt wave and a small smile to them before carefully picking his way down the dimly lit streets of Moscow. Every so often he would take a peek over his shoulder, his fists firmly balled by his sides as he attempted to quash the deeply rooted paranoia that had been manifesting within him ever since he first set foot in the Soviet capital.

He felt slightly more at ease when he arrived at his destination, taking one last glance behind him before stepping past the pillared entrance of the building. He knew he was already late, so he increased the length of his strides as he followed the faint sound of classical music until he came to an open door, where he could just about make out the stage and the performance he had travelled all the way to Moscow to witness.

There were disgruntled whispers and irate grumblings as Merkel picked his way through the full rows of seats, multiple families trying to shoo him out of the way as he momentarily blocked their view of the performance they were all so desperate to witness. Merkel’s eyes never left the brightly lit stage as he picked his way to the empty seat he had spied when he entered the auditorium. 

The Bolshoi ballet had some of the best dancers the the world had ever witnessed, and Merkel was completely enamoured. He plopped down into his seat and gazed on in awe, eyes flicking between the many ballerinas who lined the stage as the orchestral music for Swan Lake played gracefully in the background.

Merkel admired the fact that these people didn’t need dialogue to tell a story, instead they utilised every limb, every movement to craft a piece that moved him far more than any oral recital could. Each dancer was perfectly in sync, each movement was crisp and balanced as they moved across the floor in a way that was so beautifully indescribable.

He wasn’t often moved to tears; but Merkel felt his eyes begin to well up as the gravity and emotion of the performance began to truly hit him. At certain points throughout the performance he refused to blink, as he was not about to miss even a split second of the enchanting routine unfolding before him. 

Each ballerina was so intently focused on their routine that not once did any of them take even a moment to glance at the audience. That was one of the many things Merkel loved about ballet; each dancer was so dedicated to their craft that they’d spent countless, painful hours perfecting their routine for the pleasure of those watching them. He couldn’t pinpoint a single fault for the whole two and a half hour performance. Every one of the dancers was pristine in their movements, and when Merkel looked at them, when he really looked at them, he could tell that they too were overcome with emotion and just pure love for their art.

When the performance had ended Merkel found himself still glued to his seat, as though he was unable to move as he reflected on the cathartic performance. The room around him was silent, yet he could still hear the classical backing music as he rested his head against the back of his seat and gazed at the intricately designed ceiling above him. He never once expected to feel at peace while visit Moscow, yet here he was. Every tensed muscle had relaxed, and the intrusive thoughts that had plagued his mind for the past few weeks had all but disappeared. Merkel sighed deeply, relishing in every second of the tranquillity while it lasted.

-

It didn’t take long for the freezing temperatures to begin biting at Merkel’s skin when he stepped back out into the gloomy Russian night. He increased the length of his strides in order to reduce the amount of time it would take to arrive at his destination, clasping his hands in front of his face while he breathed against his exposed fingers that had already begun to turn a light shade of blue. When he reached the old bridge he paused, allowing each of his senses to adapt as he leaned against the railing. Below him the water was still gushing, still fighting against the chilling temperatures that threatened to ice it over any day now. He made sure to scope around the vicinity of the misty bridge before he settled, allowing his eyes to close for a few seconds as he dug his chin under the collar of his woollen sweater. 

“Closing your eyes while leaning over a bridge is a little adventurous in Moscow, don’t you think?”

Merkel almost jumped out of skin, immediately whipping around to get a clear view of the person who had disturbed him. 

“I told you never to sneak up on me, I could have hurt you.” He hissed as he saw the woman stood before him, who threw her head back in laughter at his warning.

“You’d have to be quicker than that to catch me.” A smirk formed on her lips as she shuffled her bag back up her shoulder, taking a few steps backwards and gesturing for him to follow her.

“You kept your promise.” There was an element of surprise in her voice as they began to walk across the dimly lit bridge, treading carefully as patches of ice that had started to expand across their path.

“How could I miss the chance to watch my beautiful swan?” 

Merkel had known Dominika for many years, having met her on one of his first trips to Moscow when she was an aspiring dancer and he was a naïve operative trying his hand at spying on the Soviets. Back then he could barely speak a few words of Russian, and was on the receiving end of an elderly lady he had bumped into while clumsily unfolding a map when Dominika had swooped in to rescue him.

She flashed him a smile and twirled as she guided him down the misty route, both of them making sure to keep their heads low and voices quiet when they heard the sound of a car approaching. Luckily for both of them Merkel’s Russian had drastically improved, and he no longer needed a crusted old map to navigate his way around the city.

When he saw that she was leading him toward a bar he held back for a moment, eyes narrowed at the smudged window as he tried to assess who was sat in each of the booths.

“You think too much.” Dominika softly slipped her hand into his, giving him a gentle pull toward the door, but Merkel stayed rooted to the spot.

“Because I don’t want to get into trouble.” His eyes hadn’t yet left the window, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end when he noticed two burly men clad in black clothing sitting at the booth at the far end of the bar.

“Thinking is what will get you into trouble.” She tugged him again, a little harder this time, and he relented, starting to reluctantly trudge toward the entrance of the bar.

Merkel sat by her side, leaning his elbows on the bar as he exhaled against his fingers, wiggling them until he began to feel his fingertips once more. 

“This will warm you up.” Dominika slid him a rather generously poured shot of what he assumed was vodka, putting an identical glass up to her lips and throwing her head back, letting the liquid trickle down her throat without even a single wince.

It’s safe to say Merkel wasn’t so smooth. After swallowing just half of the shot he felt his eyes sting, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks as he coughed, noticing the bartender flash a bemused look at Dominika as Merkel struggled to regain his composure. He’d had vodka before, but nothing as strongly distilled as whatever was in that glass.

Merkel froze as he felt a hand on his shoulder. A strong hand that had a tight grip on him as they lowered their head next to his. Merkel gulped, his fists balled as he prepared for the inevitable.

“Hello, old friend.”

Except the voice wasn’t menacing, it was familiar. Strangely familiar. Merkel craned his head round and felt a smile spread across his lips, a relieved chuckle leaving him as he set his gaze on the tall, dark haired man stood behind him. He had a bag similar to Dominika’s slung over his shoulder and a thick scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and lower face.

“Igor, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

The man nodded toward two others sat at the far end of the bar, deep in conversation as they huddled together to try conserve as much of their body heat as possible.

“We drink here after our performance. You didn’t mention you were coming over.” The man furrowed his brows for a second, casting a glance between Merkel and Dominika.

“I’m not here for long, I leave tomorrow.” Merkel felt his throat dry as he gritted his teeth in frustration. There was so much more he wanted to say, but both of the men knew they had to be extremely careful. Igor simply nodded and patted Merkel’s shoulder, walking over to join his other friends as Merkel chewed on his bottom lip and swilled the remaining liquid around his glass.

“You’re fucking Igor too, aren’t you?” He felt Dominika’s lips against his ear, her eyes fixed on the bartender to ensure he didn’t hear a word of their conversation.

“Why? Are you jealous?” Merkel cocked his eyebrow and she laughed, nudging his arm with her elbow.

“It would be impossible to be your lover if I felt things such as jealousy, sweet Gordon.”

Merkel chuckled and shook his head, throwing back the remainder of the vodka and closing his eyes as he felt the strong liquid begin to warm in his chest. 

They stayed in the bar for a little while longer, and the drinking slowly became easier for Merkel as he felt his head become lighter and his body begin to relax. Outside the wind was blowing harshly, bursts of cold air forcing themselves against he musty old window of the bar as the old wooden beams on either side of the small building creaked. 

Merkel let out an audible groan when the bartender announced that he would be closing soon, and wrapped his large fur coat tightly around his body as the door swung open of its own accord, flurries of snow beginning to cover the ground outside as the winter temperatures continued to mercilessly drop. He watched as Dominika confidently stepped outside before him, her hands buried deeply into the pockets of her coat as she gestured for him to follow her down the darkened streets.

After a few minutes the route became familiar; she was taking him to her apartment. They trudged up seemingly countless flights of stairs as they reached her building, combined sounds of couples arguing and radio static filling the stairwell as they walked side by side, eventually reaching her hallway.

There was suddenly an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of Dominika wiggling her key in the lock and then pushing her body against the door a couple of times before it finally opened. The icy weather had already creeped into the building, making the locks stick and the apartments unbearably cold.

She almost immediately grabbed the thick blanket off her couch, wrapping it around her shoulders as she could see clouds of her own breath puffing out of her mouth each time she exhaled. She kicked off her boots and gestured for Merkel to join her as she slumped onto her couch, shrugging the blanket off one shoulder so he could share the only source of warmth.

“You’re freezing.” Merkel murmured as he felt her shivering against him, her hands were bunched up under the blanket as she pressed her face into his coat, relishing in the soft feel of the fur against her skin.

“I think the gas has cut out again.” Her voice was muffled slightly, and she began to push her hands up the hem of Merkel’s sweater, pressing them against his bare chest.

He tensed slightly before wrapping his arm around her, threading his fingers into her smooth hair as she let out a soft groan, her fingers edging slowly further up his chest as he gave her hair a soft tug.

It wasn’t long before they had both acclimatised to the cold inside her apartment, their many layers of clothing littering the floor as they became entangled with one other. They were lay on her couch, the blanket draped lazily over them as Merkel’s mouth found Dominika’s chest, dragging his warm tongue over her breasts as her legs wrapped tightly around him. He peppered her collarbone with kisses as one hand remained in her hair, maintaining a tight grip as he ground his hips against hers, loud and elongated moans filling the room and probably the rest of the hallway as they began to lose themselves in each other.

When the first few rays of morning sunlight had begun to file their way into Dominika’s living room they were still awake, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms as a cigarette hung loosely out of Merkel’s mouth, his eyes half closed as the ash began to flutter down onto the blanket. Dominika had her lips pressed against his shoulder as she watched him drift in and out of a light slumber, every so often removing the cigarette from between his lips to let out a large, smoky exhale. 

After a few hours Merkel forced his eyes open and sat up slowly, trying his best not to wake Dominika as he reached for his pants. He carefully edged his way off the couch and pulled them up, buckling his belt as he gazed out of the window at the few people quickly making their way down the snowy streets, hands clasped at their mouths while their scarves blew comically in the wind.

He pulled on his sweater and coat, bending down to lace up his boots when he heard a soft groan from next to him.

“You’re leaving already?” Dominika’s voice was laced with exhaustion, but she kept her eyes on Merkel as he brushed the back of his palm against her cheek gently.

She sighed and nodded slowly, the look in Merkel’s eyes giving her the answer to her question. He knelt down to kiss her for a few minutes, his hand remaining on her cheek as she threw her arms over his back and pulled his body closer to hers.

When he rose up she didn’t protest, instead she just flashed him a smile and wrapped the blanket around her. She knew he’d be back. Even if it were it a year from now, he’d be back. 

“Until next time.” Merkel gave her one last peck on the forehead before making his way to the door, striding out into the hallway and closing it gently behind him. Dominika listened intently to the sound of his footsteps down the hallway until gradually, they faded into the distance.

[evrensadwrn]

the coolest mf ever (part of a youth rebellion in east berlin in the 80s, fakes government documents, assists a bisexual spy) and then frenchman (constantly losing)

[ghost-proofbaby]

winter’s first snow (gordon merkel x reader)

“i watch your face light up,

shades and emotions

that i’m not familiar with.

and for the first time,

in a long time,

i ache to see the snow.”

pairing: gordon merkel x reader

word count: 875

warnings: none

request: “merkel + snow but it’s in december” by Anon!! (thank you for the prompt ideas, those are always welcome!! :-) ) Also loosely based off a poem I wrote that I included a stanza of above so that’s fun

this is my first time ever writing for Merkel so uh, feedback is very much appreciated!! I also don’t speak much German so if the few phrases I used aren’t correct please please please tell me. this is also deliberately short, just trying to ease myself into writing on here. hope if you read, you do enjoy!!! (also feel free to send in any winter/holiday prompt ideas you’d want to see)

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Snow never phased Merkel.

He was so used to it, having seen an abundance of it in Germany, that it was an afterthought. The crunch of it beneath his shoes, the chill that turned his cheeks rosy, the shade of almost-grey the sky would turn - it was all background noise to him. Sometimes it was even just a nuisance. He wasn’t a fan of the cold, just numb to it all.

Until he saw it from your point of view.

It took him by surprise. The moment had crept up on him slowly, waiting until the perfect timing. One night when you were both on a rooftop, looking out across the city, the snow had started to fall with little warning. Your shoulder was pressed to his, layers of coats and blankets in between, but he could still feel the moment your shivering paused and your breath suddenly halted. He didn’t understand your sudden stillness at first.

And then he made the mistake of turning to look at you.

You were in awe. You resembled a child on Christmas morning, eyes shining as you watched the snow gather on the ledge in front of you, lips fighting the losing battle to one of the most gentle smiles he’d seen grace your face yet. Your cheeks were all pink and warm, lashes fluttering as you tilted your head back and let a crystal land on the tip of your nose.

“What, have you never seen snow before?” he tried to tease you gently to rid himself of the feelings for you that had begun to warm his chest, but it hadn’t even phased you.

Instead, you simply tilted your head and looked at him, finally embracing the oversized grin on your face as you bantered, “Have you?”

It was his turn to hold his breath. Your hair fell into place so softly, your arms stretched out behind you to keep your propped up beside him. Your entire body had relaxed as your eyes still flickered about the air to slowly take in the weather. He tried to take you in slowly, but he never stood a chance. Suddenly, he was on fire. It was below freezing outside, but he was sure his fingertips could turn everything they touched to ash in that moment. The flame crept up on him, just like the moment had, licking its way up the left side of his body and back down the right side. He swore you could see the smoke signals emitting from him. He just couldn’t get over the look on your face and how you’d flipped your internal switch with such ease, suddenly embarrassing the very cold you’d spent a better half of the evening battling against.

“To answer your question, yes, I have seen snow before. Probably not as much as you have but...it’s familiar enough,” you said, snapping him back to reality. His chest heaved once more, returning to normal rhythm as you looked at him with pure amusement, “Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t find it beautiful.”

All he could see in that moment was those eyes, big and glossy and hopeful. He could feel himself staring into them for a moment too long.

He barely noticed when he’d whispered, “Du hast wunderschöne Augen.”

It took you by surprise. Your eyes widened even more (if that were possible) and you sat up suddenly. For a moment, he prayed you’d forgotten all the German lessons he’d given to you.

“Is that so?” you challenged, popping his bubble of hope with ease.

He envied you. He envied the ease you carried as you set him ablaze, cursing him with feelings he’d avoided his entire life.

Between the stray lash that had fallen onto your cheek and the way your nose had turned a shade of pink to match your cheeks perfectly, Merkel questioned where he fell in your universe. He questioned if you felt the fire too. And if you did, was it just his residual heat that you were feeling? Or did you burn as well?

You pressed yourself forward. He could see the flames reflected in your eyes. It contrasted the snowfall behind you, the flakes getting caught in your hair.

“Merkel,” you said in a stern tone, face growing more concerned as he sat there unresponsive.

He could barely hum in response as he watched a snowflake drift down and land on your cupid’s bow, taking note of how your lips were growing chapped from the cold.

“Can you hear me, you idiot?”

These words finally break his trance. “I am not an idiot.”

“Yes, you are,” you throw your head back in laughter as he pouts gently, turning himself so your shoulders press together again. You’re almost back in the position you were originally when the snow first began. The only difference was the fire Merkel felt now, far warmer than he was before.

“Hey, Merkel?” you asked, turning your head to admire his frozen cheeks.

Did you feel the residual heat?

“Yeah?”

Did you burn too?

“Küss mich.”

And he did. Turning you both to ash on a rooftop in Berlin, in the middle of a December snowstorm, he kissed you and let the flames warm you both.

(German phrases used are “You have beautiful eyes.” and “kiss me” :-) )

[anastasiaskarsgard]

So this is part 2 of happy destruction except it’s from the girls point of view. I’m trying to explore a story from different points of view. See if I can weave all these people together and see how different personalities interpret the same event.

Happy destruction - part 2

“Oh my god bitch. You. Look. Amazing.” My roommate/bodyguard Ann deadpanned. “Smoking hot bitch. He’s going to want to kill himself.”

“Don’t say that. Even if I hate his lying cheating guts, I don’t want him to die!” I smiled as I shook my head at her. She was so severe sometimes.

“Girl! You are kinder than I am! I wouldn’t be satisfied with suicide. Homicide is the least I could do. I’d want to verify he suffered.”

Her mind seemed to go somewhere else as she stared off into the distance, and it wouldn’t be the first time Ann scared me a bit. I knew she had a past by the fighting skills I’d seen her use, and the scars littered across her perfect body. She looked like she was an Olympic athlete, if it weren’t for the scars. She’d be amazing dressed as a fairy.

“Are you seriously not going to dress up with me? You’re going to look like an assassin or something.” I pouted.

“An outfit like this has no place to conceal any weapons. I don’t feel comfortable removing reasonable doubt in case of coming into contact with any hostiles.” She said as she held up the other bikini top and boy shorts I’d been considering wearing tonight.

“ I am not even sure what you just said to me, but I’m never giving up on you playing dress up with me. You are so gorgeous and you put my figure to shame!”

Ann cocked an eyebrow at me, looking at me like I’m crazy.

“What?” I whined. “If I’m so gorgeous, why did my fiancé cheat on me with some cougar?”

“Because men are morons and cougars often don’t want anything more than some dick. Just consider yourself lucky you didn’t have a couple kids with him when you found out.”

Ann seriously was good at putting things into perspective. If we’d been married and starting a family, i don’t know what i’d have done. Still, my self esteem had never been hit so hard. I’ve always been sure of myself, and I thought I was enough. Obviously I wasn’t, but I’m not letting my thoughts go down that road.

“Well let’s get a move on. I’m not going to drink tonight so I’m taking my car. I feel like driving myself tonight.” I tell her as I make my way out of my penthouse apartment.

“I’ll follow you and give you your space since this is happening at your dads place. I need to talk to him anyway, and I know all eyes will be on you anyways.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was true. Eventhough they let me dance and mingle, there was always eyes watching. It used to bug me, but I hardly even notice anymore.

When we arrived, I was shocked at the amount of cars there. Parking had been quite a ways away, but I knew Ann was never too far away, so I made my way towards the pulsing bass, through the poorly lit area.

Coming around the corner, I slammed on my brakes, and stared ahead of me at a breathtaking sight.

The most gorgeous man, I’d ever seen in my life, stepped out of his vehicle and lit a cigarette. He was seriously overdressed for a rave in a tailored looking suit. He looked like a pretty boy gangster, or wealthy bad boy model or heir. He was tall, and had a slim athletic build and the most gorgeous face, I’d ever seen on a man. I couldn’t decide what his best feature was, so I just decided he’s perfect.

He was looking up into the sky, seemingly enjoying his cigarette. He was so gorgeous, I couldn’t look away.

I had been worried about going out tonight and being photographed with some guys if I danced with them or said hello. The media can take something and spin it however they please, but I wouldn’t care what they said if I were in a picture with this beautiful man.

Talk about giving my ex a taste of his own medicine. But he wasn’t the reason I was drawn to this man.

My breakup with my ex had been very public and messy, and he started taking beautiful women out only a short couple days after.

For the past week, our break up has been national news. Just this morning, the front page had a picture of us at a charity dinner smiling happily, with the headline: ‘handsome athlete cheats on heiress fiancé, with wife of the head coach of his own team, that fiancé’s father owns.”

It was all so humiliating. I was at his game, and they’d won, so I went to find him. I had looked everywhere for him, and nearly gave up until I opened the coach’s office door. There I found the wife of our head coach, butt ass naked on her knees servicing my fiancé. They were so into it, it took them what seemed an eternity, to even notice me frozen in horror, in the doorway.

When my fiancé started sputtering and putting his clothes back on, I’d tried to run but he wasn’t one of the best athletes in the country for nothing. He quickly caught me, and we quickly got into a shouting match, not caring about the numerous fans surrounding us. I didn’t hold back, and laid out all our dirty laundry, not even considering that almost all the people around us were recording it all.

The argument got millions of hits the first day and it hasn’t shown any sign of stopping in over a week. It’s a nightmare. My ex has been going out with a different girl each night, but this is the first thing I’ve gone out.

My friends tell me he’s trying to get my attention and make me jealous but if that’s the case he is making it worse.

I had to admit though, if I’m gonna be undoubtedly photographed with someone tonight, it may as well be him.

“What look are you going for? A fucking mobster?” I asked with a playful smile.

He still appeared to find me very amusing and laughed as he named various fairies I could possibly be. I crossed my arms and glared, thinking he’d stop teasing me and possibly flirt instead.

Boy was I wrong. He just turned around and walked away! Panicking I spit out the first thing I could think of, that he looked like cop so nobody will like him or something. I’m not sure, I panicked.

To my relief, he turned around and walked right up to me, more or less requesting my assistance with his look. What woman would tell this guy no for anything?

Thank god I didn’t take all my purchases out of the car. I was so excited when the promoter said it was going to be like an old school rave, I went out and went a bit overboard with my spending. It was also a way to distract myself from my Whole love life situation.

Praying that Ann didn’t come over and embarrass me, I opened my car and told him to take his shirt off. He had a dark tank top undershirt that hugged His lean muscular torso nicely so I decided to paint him. Luckily I had bought black light paints, so whatever I painted on him would be all you could see inside since they were being used inside. Being a pretty good artist, I set to work.

He was surprisingly very amiable about the whole thing and let me do as I pleased. He even allowed me to give him eyeliner and paint on his face without so much as a peep or side eye. he had such an amazing face structure, I knew he was going to look incredible. He didn’t even need help to look gorgeous, but the final result had me jumping up and down and clapping.

Yes I looked like an idiot. No I did not care! I was stoked. I’d never fucked anyone I’d just met before, but how this guy was looking, I wasn’t against the idea. I was strongly considering dragging him in my backseat, but that would mess up his pretty paint job, and he really did look great.

Taking his hand and leading him to the VIP door, I prayed that it was one of the nice bouncers that answered. Then I was damn near struck dumb by the man next to me.

He kissed me. I mean he REALLY kissed me. I wasn’t even worried about the door anymore, or even if my father answered the damn thing, I just kissed him back.

When he finally pulled away, I looked over to find an extremely stunned, wide-eyed Bruno. Thank god it was him. He was a sweetheart. Smiling at him with my most megawatt smile I introduced Bruce ( that’s his name) as my serious boyfriend. Whether Bruno caught the joke, was beyond my comprehension or caring.,

The club looked great, the place was packed, and I planned on making this night one of the best in my life. Consequences be damned.