#makandrei

[daordinarylinchen]

chapter twelve of my "I'll follow you anywhere you go" makandrei fanfic is out now

[undeadbolt]

Would you guys be interested in a MakaNolan week sometime 2026 summer? 🤔

I have thought of some prompts, if theres interest we could build the prompts together!

[morthern]

Happy Mermay!!

Shark Nolan and Octopus Makarov :3c

[cobaka-kaifyet]

after I saw one of @undeadbolt post with nolan looking out of window on new warzone cutscenes I made frame with verdansk airport mission like if he was here, knowing that things according to plan, a makarov was been captured by team price (not OTG-141, maybe bravo or alfa names) and inner circle can do next steps.

I imagine how he watching at this and see not a just boom. He sees a lot of work, communication with many soldiers who burned all hopes and dreams at PMC, mouths or even years planing and searching for right people. And Andrei is part of it. Part of history.

[nekrosmos]

CW: Omegaverse, Makanolan, Dominant Omega Makarov, submissive Alpha Nolan, animal death, 18+

I'm having thoughts about omegaverse and how those animalistic dynamics would maybe sometimes show themselves even outside sexual dynamics.

Especially with Makanolan.

Makarov and Nolan going on a little retreat, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, where they know they will find good game. They want a break, a moment to gather themselves, be together, test themselves as well, especially if they happen to be recently bonded. They do not bring food, they will have to fend for themselves. It's almost a game, Makarov wants to see how Nolan does, he wants to see him hunt with him, for him.

The moment the hunt starts, the moment they see that lonesome deer, they know that the hunt is on, and something switches inside their brains.

They move in the snow, carefully, a steady pace as they flank the animal, knives in hands, eye on the other as they approach it. They are slow, meticulous, they can feel the adrenaline pumping in their veins, and Nolan can see, even from a distance, the animalistic hunger in Makarov's eyes.

When the creature realizes that it's surrounded, it is too late, and Nolan plunges his knife into its neck, killing it swiftly as bright red blood stains the snow. He breathes hard, the adrenaline making his hand tremble, the satisfaction of a good kill spreading through him like the bliss of an orgasm. And then he smells it, the iron scent of fresh blood and meat, and his body demands it, craves it.

And so Nolan takes out his knife from the animal's neck and goes to bring it to his lips, only to be tackled to the ground by a feral looking Makarov. Nolan's fall is cushioned by the snow, but he knows Makarov would not have been any gentler had the ground been concrete. The omega looks at him so sternly with his dark eyes, snarling as he pins the alpha down. Of course, the dominant requires the first bite.

Nolan submits wholeheartedly, offering his neck to the hungry omega, spreading his legs under him as a sign of submission. Makarov scents him, briefly, his hot breath almost unbearable against the cold skin of his neck, before retreating. Nolan doesn't move, still, very much aware that he didn't get his dominant omega's approval yet.

When Makarov comes back to him with fresh blood spread around his lips, and a piece of hot, fresh meet in his teeth, Nolan knows what to do. He opens his mouth, awaiting the gift. They both tear into the flesh, each grabbing a piece and chewing it, the taste of it so delicious on their tongue, like the sweetest reward for two hunters in their prime. He swallows it, licking the blood off of his lips, until Makarov offers him his, a firm and dominant kiss joining them for a moment.

Once the meal has been shared, they will make camp, and soon after, Nolan will take Makarov and knot him. With a belly full of a fresh kill and the adrenaline of the hunt wearing off, the omega will be calmer, more receptive, and they will mate several times during the night, before bringing their kill to the cabin the next day and enjoying its meat many more times as they enjoy each other's company, the scent of their mating soon filling up the cabin.

[cod-thoughts]

And all this devotion rushing out of me

Word count: 1k

Relationships: Andrei/Vladimir, Makarov/Nolan, Makanolan

Tags: Established Relationship, slight hurt/comfort, possessive behaviour, falling asleep

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: A gift for the wonderful @panchulien Happy valentines day Oliv!!! Its been so cool to see you get more and more brave to share your stuff on here you're really good, i love reading your writing and your tags on things??? That pure joy and excitement is so wholesome it always makes me smile. You're so sweet and so kind, its always a joy to see you around <33 This was my attempt at these two, i dont know that much about them yet but i couldnt help myself, i had to try for this so hopefully you like it aaaaaa <33

The mission had been a success, though the world would not see it that way. The air reeked of smoke and metal, the kind of stench that clung to skin, to cloth, to memory. But here, in the dimly lit confines of the safehouse, the world did not exist. Only him.

Makarov sat slumped in the chair, exhaustion creeping in at the edges. He did not yield to it, of course. He never did. Even with sweat and blood drying on his skin, even with the weight of a battlefield's worth of chaos pressing upon him, he did not allow himself to falter.

But Nolan saw it.

He was the only one permitted to. The only one allowed to witness the moment Makarov’s shoulders dropped, the mask of ruthless ambition cracking, if only in the quiet solitude they carved out for themselves.

“Stay still.” Nolan’s voice was softer than usual, but there was no mistaking the command laced within it. He crouched beside Makarov, cloth in hand, dabbing at the cut along his jaw. It was shallow—hardly a concern—but Nolan cared anyway.

Makarov did not flinch, did not push him away. That alone was a kind of indulgence, a kind of trust.

“You should eat.” Nolan knew the answer before it came.

A scoff, the barest curve of Makarov’s lips. “Later.”

“No. Now.” Nolan’s fingers curled against Makarov’s jaw, tilting his head slightly so he could work at a particularly stubborn smear of blood. His thumb smoothed over the skin once, then twice. A touch that lingered longer than necessary. “No good to me half-dead, Vlad.”

That earned him a chuckle. Makarov’s gaze flickered up, tired but sharp, always sharp. “To you?”

“To me.” Nolan did not hesitate. He never did, not when it came to this.

Silence stretched between them, thick with understanding, with possession so deeply ingrained it no longer needed to be spoken aloud. Nolan finished cleaning the wound, setting the cloth aside before reaching for the tin he’d pilfered earlier—something sweet, something small, something Makarov would not refuse if it came from him.

Makarov watched him, amusement glinting in that ice-cut gaze, but he accepted the offering. Only because it was Nolan.

Only Nolan got to see this—Makarov indulging in something as mundane as a biscuit after a bloodied mission, leaning into Nolan’s touch with the barest shift of his weight. Only Nolan got to take care of him.

But Nolan was not satisfied. He could never be satisfied.

Makarov was his, and yet, in moments like these, it was Nolan who belonged to him more. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of Makarov’s jaw, just where the blood had been moments ago. A silent claim, a lingering touch. Makarov exhaled, barely a sigh, but it sent something electric through Nolan’s spine.

“You fuss too much,” Makarov murmured, but his hand settled on the back of Nolan’s neck, fingers twisting into his hair. Not pushing him away. Holding him there.

Nolan let himself sink into it, pressing his forehead against Makarov’s, their breaths mingling. No one else would ever have this. No one else would ever get him like this.

They stayed like that for a moment, bound by something deeper than mere loyalty. Nolan's hands traced over Makarov’s shoulders, finding the tension hidden beneath the fabric of his ruined shirt. He kneaded at the knots there, slow, deliberate, his movements bordering on reverence.

“Mmm, warm,” Makarov muttered, his voice slipping into something softer, something only Nolan would ever have the privilege to hear.

A faint smirk tugged at Nolan’s lips. He reached for the thick blanket draped over the back of the chair, pulling it around Makarov’s shoulders. The world outside was brutal, unrelenting. But here, in this stolen moment, Nolan could soften its edges.

Makarov let out a quiet sigh, barely audible, but Nolan caught it. He always did. He guided Makarov’s arms under the blanket before settling beside him, their legs brushing as he leaned in, the heat between them a stark contrast to the cold war that waited beyond these walls.

For a moment, Makarov let his guard down completely, resting his head against Nolan’s shoulder. It was not a show of weakness. It was acceptance. A silent understanding that Nolan was the only one permitted to see him like this.

“You let me take care of you.”

Makarov’s lips twitched. “And what would you do if I did not?”

Nolan’s answer was a whisper, almost too quiet for even Makarov to hear.

“I would tear the world apart.”

A hum of amusement, followed by the faintest press of Makarov’s fingers against Nolan’s wrist. A silent tether, a quiet promise.

Nolan exhaled, eyes slipping shut for just a second, allowing himself the smallest indulgence. Because Makarov might have been ruthless, might have been merciless, but in the quiet of their sanctuary, with the weight of war pressing against the door, he was soft.

And that softness was only Nolan’s to see.

But Nolan wanted more. He always did. He shifted, guiding Makarov’s head to rest against his chest, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against the nape of his neck. The gesture was almost absent, something that might have gone unnoticed if not for the way Makarov’s shoulders finally, truly relaxed.

“Sleep,” Nolan murmured, the weight of the night settling over them.

Makarov huffed, a faint, amused sound, but his eyes had already slipped shut. He would never let himself be this vulnerable in the presence of anyone else, never let anyone else see the exhaustion steal over his sharp features. Only ever around Nolan would he let his guard down.

And Nolan, greedy, possessive, and wholly unwilling to share, pressed a kiss to his temple and held him close, unwilling to let the world intrude just yet.

[homosexualgirlandbags]

Man, I have too many ideas on my brain so one at a time now

Makarov and Andrei.

First of all, let's get the fucking fact that Andrei is fucking AUSTRALIAN and nowhere near russian and ends up joining a fucking RUSSIAN terrorist group out of the way first cause it's way too fucking funny.

And secondly, Andrei wishing for any scraps of attention from Makarov. Because he might be a damn good loyal dog, but even dogs need attention from their owners sometimes you know.

Mornings spent alone in bed because Makarov stayed long enough for his musk to linger, but never long enough for it to stick permanently.

The one time Andrei does wake up in Makarov's room (a silent invitation for him to stay, a little test to try the waters), he instinctively gets up and walks back into the common bathroom, making sure to get rid of any evidence of his stay.

He spends the morning tactfully applying concealer to the scars that mark his neck, passing by his commander as though nothing happened between them.

Business as usual.

It takes at least 5 parties (where alcohol was involved) and several 'meetings' later for both of them to finally realise what they wanted.

A business transaction, with the added benefits of a trusted companion (and weapon), and for Andrei, a glimpse of the life that might have been.

They both stay quiet about it, only meeting each other under the guise of a meeting, or when Makarov deems Andrei's behaviour unsatisfactory. Maybe tells him to not disobey orders so much as the man pathetically grinds against his shoe.

And anyways, Makarov gains a new ally, someone he would actually think twice before betraying (a rarity), and Andrei gets the validation he never got from his family (because why the fuck else would an Australian dude even end up here??? What??? I really need someone to explain it to me please)

[daordinarylinchen]

outfits of andrei and commander makarov from different chapters of the "I'll follow you anywhere you go" fanfic🖤❤