I told you this thing needed to be longer. So I made it longer. Comrade @panchulien I know you're not too fond of x reader stuff, but you can imagine anyone there, really. Even though I personally don't believe Makarov could ever love Nolan like that. I also think it's not too reader-heavy, it's mostly just Nolan getting fucked by someone.
CW: NSFW (MDNI), bottom!sub!Nolan x top!dom!gn!reader, reader is described as having a cock (could be strap if you want), I'm so not normal about Nolan's jaw again, dog motif (duh), body worship of some kind, Nolan-centred, affectionate, gentle sex, mentions of emotional tears.
He's on his knees. That's a place for a dog at its owner's heel; Andrei finds dignity in kneeling with his spine straight, broad shoulders spread and arms firmly clasped behind his back, showing off the muscle definition under a thick layer of fat and discipline. There's a certain smugness about this - he takes pride in the inability of such a position to humiliate him. Nolan thinks of it as a test, a chance to prove himself as the right breed of men, those who write history on the inside of his skull.
Nolan doesn't know shit.
He's sitting there, chest out, ready for the divine judgement or a whip; and he flinches with his breath pathetically hitching when instead fingers brush over the pointy tip of his ear. It makes shivers run down his neck, a single fingertip traces the faintly cropped cartilage shell and leaves - Nolan's ear immediately feels cold, flushed, heated skin too full of pumping blood against the cool air. He tries preparing for the next touch, staring ahead of himself stubbornly and only noting the steps circling him with his hearing and periferal vision, but it's futile - a firm grip digs into the soft dips right under his bulldog jaw, squeezing him between thumb and forefinger with the rest of them brushing along the heavy jawline, Andrei clenches his teeth to stay in control and loses it with the first press of warm lips to the corner of his jaw.
It's a soft, dry peck, melting the tension in his neck muscles and allowing the hand holding him to tilt his head back, forcing another involuntary breath out and sliding the ceiling with its dancing shadows to the centre of Nolan's vision. He blinks, twice in a row accidentally, shadows of his long feathery lashes dripping down his strong cheekbones, and forces his eyes to stay in place, fighting the animalistic instinct to galnce at the face inching in towards him. Andrei doesn't react when the tip of a warm nose nuzzles into his square cheek, but leaning so close you can easily hear the unevenness of his breathing, feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, see the nostrils of many times broken nose flare and flutter.
Nolan smells good. His bold, cheap aftershave is subdued - Andrei shaved clean a few hours ago and let it air out; smooth, warm, moisturized skin has a fresh sheen to it. As your curious nose glides along the jawline, it picks up on Andrei's own masculine scent with a musky oiliness to it - when he doesn't flinch even after being nudged up his chin, wet, hot tongue drags back from his chin to his ear, tasting little bumps and scars his imperfect skin bears and teasing the soft, weak spot right behind his earlobe.
It's enough to make him finally break the silence and gasp - and you drink it in, pressing your nose into the shaven side of his head, clearly smelling of recently applied hair product mixed with the exertion sweat stuck in the roots of slicked back hair. Nolan groomed himself well for this evening, exposing his vain desire to be acknowledged and noted like a contest dog, polished hide and packed chest - and he loses ground under his feet when met with an inexplicable adoration for something beyond his strength and obedience.
His head spins, fingers digging into meaty forearms to keep them folded behind his back, when hot breath kisses along his ear and then pulls away - with lips parted and eyes unwillingly half-lidded, Andrei leans sideways towards the slipping warmth and with a gentle push of the hand still cupping his jaw gets tipped over like an unbalanced pendulum. When Nolan's heavy core hits the mattress, it dips under his weight, dark purple sheets bunching up like rays straying from his fallen form - a cotton halo surrounding an unsaint, lying in a pose of a fetus facing execution via fire squad.
When he fels a palm press into the back of his head and fingers tangle into his hair, messing up an already ruined polished style, he expects to be pushed face down into the mattress or have his neck cracked with force pulling it back; instead, there's a gentle tug teasing his scalp with just enough tension for it to be pleasant and keep him exactly in his place. Goosebumps rush down his neck and get caught with a soft kiss to his nape, with each following growing more insistent as Nolan lays there, cheek pressed against slightly rough textile grate and body flushed with the heat of another pressing up against his back. Andrei winces, baring his teeth at the sensation of a small hickey being left under the thin golden chain he kept around his neck, and inhales deeply, tensing up immediately when a hand slides under his arm to touch his chest. He tries to keep the muscle firm and fails as soon as you nuzzle him between his shoulder blades, deflating and resting soft flesh in the open offered palm.
Instead of squeezing harshly and fondling him like a piece of prime meat or a breeding stud, you trace the shape and knead his pec until his breath hitches again at a certain spot. His nipples are dark pink and firm, sensitivity dulled, but still there to be coaxed to the surface with a few careful twists. Andrei doesn't squirm, but the illussion of his stillness is easily shattered up close, with the rapid, shallow movements of his chest, his grip on his own arms slipping and relaxing and the muscles in his thighs twitching in a desperate attempt to relieve at least some tension in his groin. His cock has already made a mess on the sheets, thick head peeking from under paler foreskin and drooling onto the bed, and it twitches when you slide your hand down his stomach, pressing into the softness above his pelvis - and Nolan lets out another sharp exhale.
His voice shows only with the first languid drag of a cock in his ass. It's a growling, stretched out, low moan - Andrei moves his jaw, as if hoping to bite into the sheet and silence himself, and lets out another, much more whiny noise when you thrust again and brush a kiss against the corner of his lips, slightly wet from the foaming drool. Nolan's vocal in a hissy, growly way - his nose stays scrunched and his face is heated red, but his whole big, burly body accepts each thrust with eager softness, clenching around the slowly stretching him shaft.
He lets gentle hands fold his leg more, opening him up for a deeper push, and blinks too fast, hiding tiny, worthless to a jeweler diamonds of short-lived emotional tears. Another hand slips under his heavy head, creating a cool barrier between his overheating cheek and dark cotton of the sheets, and turns him enough for another short kiss before his breath gets broken into tiny gasps and pants with the quickening pace of the thrusts. Andrei clenches his teeth again, closing his eyes shut, and cums.
It ruins him, as if all the tension and stength go into shooting tight white ropes unwilling to seep into the dark fabric fast enough - his voice cuts through the ragged breath with a loud whine, his shoulders slump bonelessly and the ripples sliding through his body don't even have enough power in them to make him clench properly around the slowing down cock. Pressing deeply into him and hugging his thick form, you can feel the shudders coursing under his warm skin, making his fingers twitch as he finally pulls his arms from behind his back and paws at the sheet trying to anchor himself.
There's some fullness in him, different from the satisfyingly filling him dick; it's nesting in his lower belly, heavy and warm, replacing the sharp tightness of arousal and climax - it's disturbingly spiritual for him. Andrei stretches his legs tenatively. He wants to expect a harsh change of pace and mood - a slap for disobedience or a merciless pounding now that he showed his weakness - but this expectation doesn't come naturally to him anymore, as if something fundamental has just been shifted in his core.
Carefully, as if testing if he is allowed still, Nolan reaches back and instead of a slap or a mocking chuckle finds warm closeness of a body immediately leaning into a hug. Offering your neck for him to cling onto, you rest your chin on his shoulder and, as soon as Andrei turns his face, press a full kiss into his mouth.
Nolan doesn't know shit. But there is someone who knows him - and loves him enough to show him too.
Since i haven’t been able to finish writing my current au just yet, have an idea I’ve been brewing over!
Ghost is a honeypot for some Konni members as he is one of the few fluent in the language. He goes to a party/club in Russia to talk with them.
Nolan sees him, compares him to Makarov in his head, the person he idolizes and lusts over (listen we all heard that cut scene, no straight person acts like that). He decides they’re different enough for him to go for it.
Ghost speaks him to all sweetly, letting him believe he’ll get the affection he’s craving tonight.
But Ghost uses him to get to Makarov and kills both of them. Maybe Nolan lives a few more minutes and watches his idol bleed out like a pig idk
