#Macgyver 2016 fanfic

[letthewhumpbegin]

Overload - a MacGyver fanfiction

Title: Overload Fandom: MacGyver (2016) Genre: hurt/comfort Characters: Angus MacGyver, Jack Dalton

Summary: They were subtle signs, more than likely missed by everyone else in the meeting room, but Jack caught them even from the other end of the table they all sat around. It was in the haunted look in Mac’s eyes, his complete detachment from everything happening around him, and the breaths that were much too shallow for Jack’s liking.

Mac has a panic attack.

Word count: 1253 No. of chapters: 1 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack, anxiety and angst. Original post date: 1 October 2024 Completed: yes

POSTED ON: AO3: click here FF.net: click here Tumblr: click here

Any and all feedback on my writing is highly appreciated 😇🥰. You can find my full writing masterlist here.

[ariwritessometimes]

The first time it happened, they were in the Sandbox. One minute, his bomb nerd was there in the passenger seat, albeit hanging out the window; the next, he wasn’t.

And as Jack Dalton picked Afghan sand and gravel out of his idiot-genius technician, all the while hollering about ‘what in the hell kinda mule-brained move that was,’ some small part of him was foolish enough to believe that maybe the warning would be taken to heart, and it wouldn’t happen again.

aka

How Jack learned that the Belt Grab needed to be a thing.

[boolger]

Just like that movie - Macgyver

Macgyver 2016. MDNI. 18+. Look at me writing something for the Macgyver fandom for once, hm. This isn’t checked through for mistakes, so there will probably be some, sorry <‘3

Tags: Hint of Dennis Murdoc x Angus Macgyver, implied Jack Dalton x Angus Macgyver. References to the shining, axe, violence, shooting, fire, Murdoc is being Murdoc. Death threats. Joke about being queer. threat of non-con.

Don’t think to deeply over the details in this one. Also don’t play with fire.

🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓🪓

Mac rushed through the doors, turning to the right in a sharp movement, stopping for a moment, just to listen.

His whistling echoed throughout the old house, bouncing through the rooms, only to be interrupted by the occasional “oooh Anguuus~”. Everytime Murdoc almost sang his name, Mac wanted to punch him in the face. His eyes flickered around in the room he was currently hiding in.

The entire house was old, with water damage crawling down the walls, filled with dusty and damp furniture that was haunted by the memories and from being abandoned for years. Graffiti on the walls, things ripped from its places.

A crash echoed throughout the house.

“Booooy scooout.”

There was no electricity in the room, but Mac could work without it; he just had to find the right components to create chaos with. Preferably something that blew up; starting a fire would honestly work too.

Murdoc with a gun was one thing - but Murdoc, stalking him through an old house, with a fucking axe? Another kind of horror, pulled directly from The Shining. Except Murdoc was just Murdoc. His usual, crazy self.

It wouldn’t be long before the team found him, Mac knew that - he trusted Jack and the others to appear soon. Maybe he should have a damn tracker put in him, like Riley had suggested, so they could always find him.

As Murdoc chopped his way through a door nearby, a manic laughter leaving him, Mac snuck off to further down the hallway.

“This isn’t funny if you don’t come out soon, Macgyver,” Murdoc crooned, Mac turning into a smaller hallway before he saw him, “or well. You don’t need to ‘come out’ come out, we both know you’re not straight, don’t we Angus?”

Asshole.

Usually Mac would reply to Murdoc’s baiting, but he didn’t particularly feel like giving himself away. He dipped into a different room, picking up a radio on the way, as well as some discarded steel wool on the floor. Finally luck seemed to be on his side— a manic laughter was heard, closer than Mac particularly wanted it to be.

As he rushed from the room to the next, the door made a noise behind him, making him cringe - while he heard the sound of the axe being dragged along the floor.

“Ohoho,” Murdoc laughed loudly, smugly, “I can hear you Angus!”

Mac almost ran past a bathroom, but he made the detour inside - opening the little closet beneath the sink. A lot hadn’t been left untouched; but a rubbing alcohol was there. Mac almost cried with delight, muttering at himself to hurry up. The moment the dark blonde stepped out of the bathroom and looked down the hallway, his gaze met his enemy’s.

A small “Fuck,” left him, Murdoc grinning, all of his teeth showing, the axe in hand, slowly raising it.

“Only if you ask nicely,” the leather clad man promised darkly — but Mac didn’t stay behind to point out how fucking creepy that was; it was Murdoc. He knew it was. Instead Mac booked it down the opposite way, Murdoc laughing as he sprinted after him.

Mac only just managed to get inside a room - dropping his things before he pushed a desk in front of it. While it didn’t make pushing open the door easy, it was no help against the axe. As the weapon collided with the wooden door the first time, Angus pulled his SAK from his pants, hurryingly breaking open the back of the radio with it.

As he ripped the battery out, the axe hit the door once again, the tip of the metal peeping through the wood. Mac was almost proud his hands weren’t shaking as he picked up the steel wool, stretching it out a little.

For a short second, Mac looked over his shoulder, at the window; he was up high, third floor and the mere thought made him want to throw up. Why did Murdoc have to choose this giant place of all places?

As the axe once more connected with the door, Mac rubbed the battery and steel wool together; just as Murdoc peeked his head through, no doubt with plans of citing the famous line from the Shining, Mac blew on the wool, creating a few sparkles of fire — so Mac threw it, instantly turning around to the window.

He felt the blast from the fire behind him, a loud scream leaving Murdoc as the fire almost burned off his eyebrow no doubt. He opened the window, trying his best not to look down or look at the flames that grew even bigger with the new oxygen. Murdoc was screaming his name, not with fear of his death, but with the promise that he would get him back.

Mac looked to the side - he would almost be able to reach the window from the room next door - but the mere idea of falling was making him want to throw up. Instead he looked up.

With a quick decision he crawled up instead of to the side or attempting to jump down. The roof tiles were crumbling as he managed to pull himself up, moss covered and old. Mac hurried further off the roof, afraid of falling down.

It would be a matter of time before the fire licked its way up to him - and as he looked out, trying to keep his eyes on the horizontal line, as Jack always told him to do, he saw several cars approaching at high speed. Fucking finally. A tile slid out from beneath his hand, a whimper leaving him as he unintentionally looked down, as it scrambled down the roof and down to its death.

On to see the familiar, dark leather-clad monster that often haunted his dreams. The moment Mac saw him, it was almost too late. It was more luck than judgment than he managed to move in time, the bullet grazing his arm instead of his face. As Mac’s eyes flickered to Murdoc again, grabbing onto the unstable tiles, the pale man was grinning. His gun was gone - and he blew a kiss up at Mac instead, turning around and disappearing into the woods. Like a monster, retreating into the obscurity it came from.

The cars all stopped violently, Jack yelling his name as Murdoc’s figure disappeared in between the trees. He would be back to haunt Mac again, the blonde already knew that. He could feel the fire getting closer, his stomach becoming warm, smoke beginning to envelop him.

As he crawled towards a roof window, trying not to panic, his arm was pulsing with pain from the shot.

When he left the house, he saw the axe, stuck in the wall, next to his name, written in dark graffiti - a heart drawn around it.

Mac tried to forget the sight, as Jack drew him into his arms, instantly promising to kill the Murdoc.

[ash5monster01]

It's Only Fair

Pairing: MacGyver x Reader

Warnings: nothing but fluff

Summary: There is a new mailman that keeps switching up you and your neighbor, Macgyver's mail.

word count: 600+

a/n: this is my very first, very short, Macgyver imagine I ever wrote. I’m in the process of moving some of them from my original wattpad to here, to find a broader audience. I hope you enjoy x I know it’s not very good, I was seventeen when I wrote it

Masterlist

The cool breeze from outside drifted in the house and gave it a light glow. The weather had been absolutely gorgeous the past few days, warm with a light breeze paired with it. It was what caused you to open all the windows and allow it to flood the home. With the day off from work you spent your time in the kitchen, enjoying the breeze, and baking for what felt like the first time in months. Just as you started pulling out some cookies from the oven the doorbell sounded throughout the house.

"Come in!" you called out as you shut the oven with your foot and started to walk towards the opposing counter to set the trays down.

"Wow it smells great in here" you looked up to spot your blonde neighbor standing in the entry way of the kitchen, holding up a stack of mail. "The new guy gave me your mail again"

"I think he's doing it on purpose now" you chuckled and he smiled and nodded as he walked further in and set it on the counter. You quickly removed the oven mitts and grabbed the stack.

"Well that or he really has no clue he's mixing it up" Mac suggested and you nodded as you shuffled through some bills which honestly could've stayed at his house.

"Well we can't totally complain. We've lived next to each other for years and I finally know your name from the amount of times I've received your letters" Mac laughed at the comment as you set the mail down.

"Yeah I definitely can't complain" Mac's gaze hardened on you and you struggled to keep your composure. The suggestive look in his ocean blue eyes made your skin crawl.

"Would you like some cookies. I've been bored baking all day and I think I should start offering before I gain five pounds" you moved over towards the cookies to distract yourself from the close proximity between you and the oddly handsome neighbor.

"Bored baking?" Mac questioned as he leaned against the counter. You shrugged as you started to cool one off to hand to him.

"It’s a thing, trust me. It keeps me occupied" you said handing the now cooled and gooey cookie to the boy, he rose his eyebrows as he grabbed it from your hand. Slowly he took a bite out of it and then smiled. "What?"

"Nothing it's just this cookie is really good. Better than Bozer's but don't tell him I said that" you chuckled and grabbed one for yourself as he finished his.

"Well then I guess I did something right?" Mac brushed his hands on his pants and stared at the gorgeous girl beside him and he wondered how he had never noticed you before. If he was being completely honest, two weeks ago he practically camped out on his front porch to corner the new mail man and tell him to keep mixing up your mail. It was the perfect excuse to keep coming over and seeing you.

"Well now that you've let me try one of your delicious cookies how about you try one of my delicious dinners?" your eyes widened as you looked up at the boy. He offered a small smile, the dimple in his left cheek catching your attention.

"And what makes them so delicious?" a smirk graced your lips as you looked up to him and he chuckled softly.

"I have a secret weapon named Bozer" a large laugh fell past your lips at his answer and when your laughter quieted down he looked at you just like he did before. "So what do you say?"

"Well, I mean it's only fair"

Taglist: @mayfieldss

if you want to be tagged in upcoming Macgyver fics please let me know <3

[lupinescribbler]

“Hey! This is Jack the Dalton speaking. Probably couldn’t catch your call due to doing cool… bathroom tile salesman… stuff. Leave a message and I’ll hit you back up. Ciao!”

“I don’t know where I am right now.” Mac mumbled. He was aware he was slurring, slightly. He felt like he weighed a million pounds, or maybe like he’d been welded in place into his car. Immovable. Lethargic. His skin felt damp, he didn’t know if he was sweating or bleeding. He felt too cold to be sweating. “But I need help. Can you…”

Mac closed his eyes. Can you what? Find me? Not leave me? Just talk to me?

The voicemail beeped, marking an end to the message.

Mac redialed.

(Fanfic)

[paperclips37]

A new idea for a story...

Riley realises that Aubrey was not a good idea waaaay sooner and ends up living with our boy before season 4.

I like this.

[rosieblogstuff]

WIP Wednesday

“How about we worry about getting you patched up, first, buddy? Jack said. “Then maybe you can take a crack at ‘im after you’re able to hold yourself upright without support, huh? Your brain’s probably still all filled up with extra electricity and not thinking all right.”

“You can’t–” Mac paused as a tingling shiver ran through him. “You can’t get filled up with extra electricity. That's not a thing."

“Yeah, you sure about that? ‘Cause I know how it felt like when I played with electricity back in Shanghai and I don’t think I had nearly as much for as long.” Jack switched his firm gaze to Thronton as if determining his audience wasn’t receptive enough. “He needs a medic lookin’ at him asap, Patti.”

“I’m fine,” Mac tried, but his assertion was probably weakened by the involuntary shudder that shook through him. Thornton gave him an unamused look and waved over the tac team medic. Mac let out a huff. “I’m not the one who literally died,” he muttered. 

[loverwithalittledagger]

MacGyver Kinktober 2024 / Promptober 2024

Alright - if anyone wants to join me feel free to create your own lists, join my lists, post here, post on ao3, grab them for your own blorbos and fandoms, im not picky. There two sets of lists, above the read more is the non-explicit prompt list underneath is the explicit prompts. Should be a fun time so please if you feel inclined, no need to stick to any particular days, swap them out for your own prompts, jump in in the middle, whatever makes you happy!

1 - trapped in an elevator 2 - stuck in jail 3 - crack 4 - whump 5 - neurodivergent / 6 - sickfic 7 - amnesia 8 - coffee shop au 9 - hidden relationship 10 - non-english fic \ find and boost/comment/etc on a non-english fanwork (google translate <3) 11 - cairo 12 - crossover 13 - wedding 14 - rare pair 15 - enemies to lovers 16 - song fic 17 - breaking up 18 - college au 19 - guns 20 - spin the bottle 21 - hurt/comfort 22 - 5-and-1 23 - soulmate au 24 - shoelaces 25 - corruption arc 26 - confession under the influence 27 - drabble / sketch / set a constraint 28 - QPR 29 - fake dating 30 - road trip 31 - found family

1 - Leather 2 - rough sex 3 - bootworship 4 - Costumes/dress up 5 - Spanking 6 - hate sex 7 - Mirrors 8 - Gags 9 - CNC 10 - ropes 11 - hair pulling 12 - Denial 13 - phone sex 14 - at work 15 - Collaring 16 - DP 17 - cheating 18 - against a wall 19 - gun kink 20 - bruises 21 - public 22 - aftercare 23 - Lingerie 24 - degradation 25 - toys 26 - somno 27 - Exhibitionism 28 - masks/anonymous 29 - possession/possesiveness 30 - Breath play 31 - knife play

[nanlaria]

WIP

“I don’t need an explanation, Mr. Wizard, just tell me if we’re going to go kaboom.” In spite of the gruff words, the tone sounded nervous. It was obvious that Dalton was not pleased with their proximity to not just an explosive, but now an explosive being soaked in fuel.

Mac grinned irreverently. “Probably not, no. This should allow me to simply burn off the compound instead of detonating it. However… I don’t know that we want to do that here, so I’ll need to move it first.”

Disbelief thickened the drawl as Dalton scoffed, “Probably? Should? You don’t know? Aren’t you supposed to know?”

“Well, nothing is ever one hundred percent perfect, so I can’t be one hundred percent sure. I don’t know precisely how much trinitrotoluene was packed into this warhead, what stage of decay the chemical composition has reached, and JP8 isn’t normal diesel fuel, exactly, so I would have to do the math and calculate the chemical change rate-” Dalton cut him off again. “Forget I asked.”

[hoss-acm]

For all those Fan-Fiction writers out there, if there is any image you may have in mind that came up in your story’s or even if you don’t write but you have a idea of something in MacGyver, I would be more than happy to try and draw it for you, and for your use if you would like, just let me know!

[tilliwriteapine]

Without even calculating the rate of infection risk or the number of days that will be spent recuperating from this shit show of a mission, Mac slams the scissors into his thigh. And screams.

For @impossiblepluto - I DID IT!! I wrote WORDS!!!

I also give credit to @ariminiria for the original post that inspired Pluto's tags :)

Enjoy!

[letthewhumpbegin]

Overload - a MacGyver fanfiction

Fandom: MacGyver (2016) Characters: Angus MacGyver, Jack Dalton Prompt: this was written for day 1 of @whumptober 2024, prompt Panic Attack. Word count: 1253 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack, anxiety and angst.

Mac wasn’t always the loudest or most present person in the room. He enjoyed company, but could just as well be by himself. So when he took a bit of a backseat during today’s debriefing of their latest mission, that wasn’t an instant reason for concern. Most might assume him to be tired, but Jack was the one to sense something more was going on. 

They were subtle signs, more than likely missed by everyone else in the meeting room, but Jack caught them even from the other end of the table they all sat around. It was in the haunted look in Mac’s eyes, his complete detachment from everything happening around him, and the breaths that were much too shallow for Jack’s liking. 

Jack held his gaze fixed on Mac, counting down the minutes until this meeting would end. Mac sat unmoving, one hand clamped so tightly around a paperclip that Jack feared he might have to dig it out of Mac’s palm later. He was fully turned in on himself and wasn’t participating in the meeting in any way anymore. All he seemed to do was sit and try to keep some level of control over himself. "Come on, come on," Jack mumbled under his breath. No one else saw it, but Jack knew in his gut that Mac was silently spinning out of control right in front of him. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, the meeting came to an end. Where everyone immediately got to their feet to resume their work elsewhere, Mac did not even make an attempt to get up from his seat. Even worse: he did not move a muscle at all. He sat frozen, rigid, gaze fixed unblinkingly at a point somewhere near his hands resting on the table top. 

Jack hung back and waited until everyone else had left the room, before he closed the door. "Mac?" Jack sat down in the chair next to his partner and friend. Mac did not respond in any way. "Come on, hoss, talk to me. I know something is going on with you." Jack rested a hand on Mac’s forearm and immediately felt how Mac’s muscles were tensed up to their max. Jack knew then and there that this situation was infinitely worse than he had been suspecting. He had only seen Mac have a full-on panic attack twice before, and both those times had not been pleasant experiences for either of them. 

A whimpery gasp escaped Mac, as he looked wide-eyed at Jack now. "Okay, okay…" Jack wasn’t sure exactly what he should do, so he just did what felt right. He held his hand on Mac’s arm, speaking softly to instill some sort of calmness back into him.  "It’s alright, I’m here with you, you’re going to be fine." Jack repeated the words like a mantra, but they seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

Mac’s breaths shuddered now and a distinct tremble spread through his entire body. He felt like screaming, thrashing, running away, and preferably all at the same time, but he found himself unable to move or utter any words. His chest constricted painfully and made him feel like he couldn’t take a proper breath. A feeling of panic and fear so feral settled in every fiber of his being, and he had no idea how to deal with it or how to get himself out of it. 

"Buddy, please." Jack pleaded. "Let me help you. Try to tell me what I need to do." Mac gulped like a fish out of water, before he frantically shook his head. Jack huffed helplessly. All he wanted was to help, but he didn’t, for the life of him, know how to. 

Mac gasped another few times for a breath, and finally managed to get a few words out.  "J-just… be… here…" Each word was followed by a sharp, hitched intake of breath. "You mean sit here with you?" Jack wasn’t sure how that would be of help, but if that was what Mac asked of him, he would do it. Mac nodded a silent confirmation. He had to struggle to get a breath in by now, and he felt like he had lost all control over himself. It was a scary feeling, terrifying even. Jack might not be the best to deal with these kinds of situations, but he was what Mac needed right now. 

"Okay, absolutely." Jack accepted this cry for help without protest. He leaned back in his chair. No matter how long Mac needed him to, Jack would sit here with him all through it. 

---

Well over 30 minutes had gone by, when Mac finally seemed to have battled himself through the worst of his panic attack. His breaths turned easier, and his posture dropped as his muscles slowly released their tension. 

Jack noticed this, too. "Are you back with me?" He asked softly. "I think so. A little." Mac ran a trembling hand through his hair. This movement was the first he made since this panic attack had started. "Do you need anything?" Jack inquired. Mac slowly licked his lips. He only now realized how dry his mouth was. "Some water, please."

Jack poured a glass of water from a canteen and handed it to Mac, before he leaned against the edge of the table to have a good look at his partner. Jack had seen Mac in all states of disheveled over the years, but somehow seeing him go through this panic attack today unsettled Jack greatly. 

"What happened?" Jack finally asked the question which had been bothering him most. "I don’t even know." Mac sighed wearily. "I guess I’m just tired. This latest mission has been stressful." It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Jack felt Mac was telling the truth. He looked genuinely confused and betrayed by his own mind and body. 

Mac took a sip of water. Jack couldn’t help but notice how Mac’s hands seemed to tremble a little worse again.  "Easy, hoss," Jack said calmly, "no need to lose control again. We’re just going to take it easy." Mac chuckled darkly. "I’m doing the best I can." "I know." Jack rested a comforting hand on Mac’s shoulder. "And I’m here to help you through it." Mac nodded gratefully and shakily took another sip of water. He was calmer now, but looked absolutely spent. Something that hadn’t eluded Jack either. 

"Come on, let me take you home," Jack suggested. "Yeah," Mac answered wearily. He slowly got up from his chair. For a short moment he swayed on his feet, which made Jack quickly reach out and steady his friend. "You good?" Jack asked with slight concern in his voice. Mac nodded. "I’m good." Jack wasn’t altogether satisfied with Mac’s well-being, but didn’t press the matter for now. 

"Jack?" There was an uncharacteristic vulnerability to Mac’s voice. "Do you have any plans this afternoon?" "No." Jack already sensed the question hanging in the air. Mac averted his gaze to the glass of water still in his hands. "Would you… would you mind staying with me?" Even though they knew each other so well, had been friends and partners for so long, Mac still found it difficult to ask for help sometimes. "Of course," Jack instantly agreed, "I’ll keep you company for as long as you need me to." "Thank you," Mac mumbled. 

Knowing that Jack would stay with him, Mac already felt himself calm down even more, and he was sure he would eventually feel better completely.

Writing masterlist

Author's note: this fic will get posted onto my AO3 and FF.net account as well in the coming weeks.

[ariwritessometimes]

Lost Cause + Voicemail, Part 2/2

If she stops, if she slows down at all, Mac dies. He might even be dead already.

No. No, she stops that thought right there.

Riley will not bury anyone else. Not today.

[boolger]

Dying laughter

Macgyver 2016 ✨ Jack Dalton x Angus Macgyver ✨ mature, 18+ ✨ wc: 1.2k ish

Tags: vampires au, main character death (kinda? Technically not, but sssh), vampire hunter, blood, lying, angst no happy ending. Open ended. Lmk if more needs to be tagged. Listen I’m just freestyling what vampires are, let me have this silly lil one shot.

MDNI. Not here, not with my blog. I’ll block you. MDNI.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Murdoc had said the words out loud, he had apparently been able to read the confusion on Jack’s face; his grin growing even wider than before, one of his usual manic laughs overtaking him. He had been laughing delightfully at others’ misery as usual.

“Oh - oh, you don’t know?” He had asked, “oh Angus, you haven’t told him? You didn’t tell him?”

It had been a mixture of taunting and delight, laughter following as Murdoc seemingly lived out one of his dreams - much to Jack's confusion. Even worse, Mac had looked pale, afraid… ashamed.

Jack hadn’t been able to speak then, unable to let questions and demands of answers drip from his tongue. Confusion, betrayal, distrust overwhelmed his veins as Murdoc enjoyed his moment, the young man with the dirty blonde hair quiet.

Now, as Jack stood over him, the gun in his hand, everything he could remember was told by his father; it was a matter of duty, to everyone else - to the human race.

Jack had taken so many lives in the years he had lived. Grown up with his father’s honor to continue and defend; made a name for himself, as a soldier, a hunter, an agent. He had blood that would stain his hands, no, stain his life, until he stepped into the afterlife.

If he hadn’t done as expected, as instructed, as he should - what would have happened then?

No, though blood stained him, human, vampire, demon blood alike, it was still his duty.

His father wouldn’t even have hesitated. He would have shot the man beneath him with the silver bullets in his gun. It was currently aimed, safety off; it was merely a question of pulling the trigger, helping the human race.

It was what he had been taught to do, ever since being a child. The moment he could hold a gun, his father had made sure he knew how to shoot it. How to hit, how to kill those that weren’t human beings, merely imitating. In order to stop them from taking over.

“Jack,” Mac whispered, voice shaking, “please don’t.”

Jack had to do it. He had to, not only for everyone else but for himself. To reclaim his honor, to prove he wasn’t blind.

Murdoc’s laughter was wet, coughs in between them now and again. He was on the floor, a couple of steps from them, blood seeping from the gunshots that Jack had blessed his body with.

“Tell me it’s not true, Mac,” Jack’s voice was shaking slightly, “tell me it’s not true.”

Mac was beneath him, still in the chair that Murdoc had chained him to, which was now tipped back over, looking up at Jack with those big blue eyes. Just as beautiful as the day Jack met him.

“Jack,” he answered, voice still nothing but a whisper, “please don’t do this.”

“Tell me you’re not one of them!” His voice was bordering on yelling now, his tone demanding. Desperate to be sure that no, it was all a lie; that Murdoc had lied, that the one who Jack had been in love with for the last 6 years of his life, wasn’t a vampire.

As if the teeth which Murdoc had forced him to unsheath shouldn’t have been proof. They were filed down, no more dangerous than Jack’s own, but Mac shouldn’t have retractable teeth. Sharp or not.

It was like his mind was a wild ocean, during a storm; ruining every memory on its way, breaking every ounce of trust that Jack had laid in his friend. Falling in love with Angus Macgyver had been such a simple feat. It had been like a seed, planted inside him, growing with the years, slowly, oh so slowly getting ready to bloom. All those times Mac had stepped back, that he had shied away and declined him - had it been because of this? Was the love not a flower, but a mere weed?

Was he not human?

Murdoc laughed again, bleeding out, yet having the time of his life. Mac’s nostrils barely moved, as if to attempt to block out the scent.

“A carrier!” Murdoc screamed in absolute delight, “you’ve fallen in love with a carrier!”

A carrier.

Nothing was like Jack had been told it was his entire life. Vampires weren’t supposed to be like this, weren't supposed to be like Mac - they… weren’t supposed to be human. Yet here Mac was, beneath him, just like he had been the last many years. Human-like.

Perfect.

“Mac,” his own voice was shaking more than before and he hated how he felt tears form in his eyes, “tell me it’s not true. Tell me.”

Mac was silent beneath him. Staring up at him with a sad, pleading expression- unable to lie.

Jack had to kill him. His father would be ashamed if he didn’t, it was his duty as a hunter. Killing a carrier, would mean that a vampire - a monster - that Mac - that… he wouldn’t be able to carry a full blood vampire child. Making sure the vampire kind would survive, even if they had no humans around to drink from.

He had to.

“TELL ME!”

Murdoc laughter was weaker now. More wet.

There were tears collecting in those pretty eyelashes of his. He looked up at Jack, so vulnerable, no anger from being found out. Merely sadness - but from what? From being found out? From knowing he had to die now? From being forced to tell the truth? Did Mac even fear death? Did he fear the truth more than the afterlife?

He wanted Mac to tell him it wasn’t real - that it was another lie of Murdoc, that it was a ploy. To make them unsure, to separate and kill them. But Murdoc was bleeding out, laughing as he went.

“It’s true.” Mac’s bottom lip shook after the whisper and tears rolled down into his hair that was splayed around his head on the floor, like a blonde halo. As if he was an angel, an immortal being created by god. Not this.

Jack’s hand was shaking.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” he continued, “I wanted to tell you.”

Another, small, dying laughter from Murdoc.

“Why didn’t you?” He found himself asking something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He wanted to scream at Mac that it wasn’t fair, that he had loved him for so many years - that he wasn’t supposed to be here, beneath him, admitting to be a vampire. Then Jack could have shot him earlier, before he became enthralled with him. With his personality, his mind, his hands, his eyes - with how he would know everything yet be so clueless about others.

Why hadn’t Mac told him, so that Jack wouldn’t be here, the declaration of love dying in his mind, watching the man beneath him?

“Every time I wanted to,” Mac was still shaking a little, “I felt greedy, egotistical- I … I wanted you to love me, just a little more.”

He wasn’t human, Jack tried to remind himself, he was never human. He steadied his hand with the gun a little. He wasn’t human, merely taking the shell of one. Vile creatures, he was always told, unable to love or care about anyone.

“I just wanted another minute with you,” Mac continued, “just to love you another minute - wanted to hear your laughter one more time.”

Not shooting Mac would make him weak, it would be against everything he had grown up with. It would be against the laws of the hunters, against what the government wanted - it would be against everything that he did for human beings.

He was not human. Even if being together with Mac had been the only thing getting Jack through life for years. Even if Mac sometimes felt more human than Jack himself did.

“You’re not human.” He wasn’t sure if he said it to Mac or to himself.

Did it even matter?

His grip on the gun tightened.

[ash5monster01]

Hello! how are you?

I would like to ask Macgyver something, I imagine something, where maybe Mac and the reader have been captured and Mac does one of his ideas to escape and maybe the reader ends up getting hurt and he again does something to save the reader's life? I imagine him supporting her or carrying her if necessary...

Something extremely cute, thank you very much! I love your writing!!

Rescue Me

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, whump, mentions of blood, use of weapons, hurt reader, no use of y/n

Summary: When a mission goes wrong you and Mac find yourselves trapped. When he realizes you’re hurt he needs to come up with a plan to save you both.

word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

The only light in the room is coming from a flickering bulb hung overhead. Flashing sight into the dark and dusty walls surrounding him. Mac isn’t sure what happened, eyes still blurry as he tries to come too. From what he can tell he’s tied to wherever he’s sitting. His head is pounding and his ribs are sore. Whatever had happened had done him in good. That’s when it hits him. The mission, how he had followed you into the mansion, how out of no where a stun grenade went off, and before he could fight back they had knocked him out.

That explained the headache and the more than likely bruised ribs. Yet when his eyes fully blink open he’s actively aware of the fact that he had been with you. It’s as if he’s awake in an instant, head swinging until it lands on you beside him. You’re laid in a heap, tied to a chair, hair stuck to the blood on your forehead. That’s when he sees most of your shirt is seeped through with blood too. Panic rises like bile in his throat and all he can think is how he failed to protect you.

“Hey baby, wake up” he says as calm as he can, scooting in his seat to try and get closer to you. When his foot knocks against the leg of your chair, you snap awake, scanning the room just as he did in a panic.

“Shit Mac, where are we?” you ask once your eyes land on him, arms immediately fighting the restraints. He adores how you ignore how hurt you are, instantly jumping into action to help you both.

“I don’t know, what I do know is we need to get you out of here. You’ve had to of lost so much blood” that’s when you freeze, the realization and the pain seeping in as you look down at your form. It’s then you remember watching them knock out Mac, how you had jumped to save him, and they had a knife and unforgiving nature. It’s then you hiss, the reminder of the deep wound that somehow missed your organs.

“Shit, you’re right” you seethe, squeezing your hands to ignore the pain that now sears through you. Mac’s eyes dart across your form with worry, it’s then he springs into action, eyes darting around the room for anything to set him free.

You watch as he shuffles towards a table, scooting the chair as quickly and quietly as he can. When he reaches it he sways himself forward and on his feet. It’s then the nausea hits you, a clear sign of blood loss as he uses one of the tools to set him free. Fighting to keep your eyes open he rushes over to you and unties your harnesses as well. The relief of being free isn't enough to calm you when you realize those very harnesses had been holding you upright. Your body collapses instantly, Mac catching you as you land against him.

"You're more hurt than I originally thought" he says, head swiveling around the room as he scans it again, trying to come up with any ideas that could possibly save you. When he comes up short he eases you gently back against the chair before going to the only door in the room. Much to both your surprise the knob turns when he attempts to open it.

“Listen, I’m gonna try and figure out where we are. You stay right here and I’ll be back” he tells you and you don’t have enough energy to respond as he slinks out the door in search of the safest way to escape.

It’s hard to stay awake while he’s gone. Catching your head nearly every time you nod off. You’re startled awake when you feel Mac lifting you in his arms. He’s saying something but it’s not registering as he lifts you with ease. Carrying you bridal style towards the door. You whine every time a muscle strains and the brief look you get of his face shows how much this pains him too. You reach out to comfort him but you fall short, unconsciousness taking over.

When you come to again you’re instead surrounded by the light blue walls of a hospital room. You squint under the bright overhanging lights and despite the lingering pain you feel so much better than you did the last time you were awake. You would’ve sworn it was a dream had you not woken up here. It’s relief knowing you’re safe but panic all over again when you realize you don’t know how you got out or what could’ve happened to Mac. It makes you feel shameful, like you had failed him somehow.

“Mac? Mac?!” your panicked voice arises, eyes trying to focus on your surroundings. A shuffling beside you and a hand falling in your own eases your heart only slightly.

“I’m right here baby, you’re okay” blinking your eyes you find an unharmed blonde boy by your side. Tears spring to your eyes as you reach out for him.

“Oh God what happened?” you cry and he looks at you with teary eyes to match, leaning forward to press his forehead against your own.

“We were captured, I got us out” he tells you and you don’t need to ask to know he had pulled off something only Mac was capable of.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t help you” you tell him, hands holding either side of his face, his grip locked on your wrists.

“No, no, it’s okay. We got out and you’re okay now. It wasn’t your fault” he tells you and your lip quivers but you pull him in for a kiss anyway. He’s perfectly happy to do so, kissing you to convey just how much he loved you and how sorry he was.

“Is the rest of the team okay?” you ask when he lets go and he smiles, nodding against you before scooting into the open spot beside you. You move as much as you can for him to curl up into your side.

“Everyone’s fine, they’re happy you’re alive. Said we should probably wait a bit before we get captured again” and you snort out a laugh that instantly turns into a wince from the soreness of your wounds. Mac looks you over with worry but you calm him with your touch, holding him still.

“I’m perfectly content not being a hostage for a while” you tell him and he gives a pressed smile before kissing your forehead. You hold him, happy to have made it out of something like this for the hundredth time, with him by your side.

“I say the minute you get better we take a break” Mac says and you nod against him, humming in delight as you think of a tropical island. You and Mac curled up on a sandy beach, soaking in the rays, and kissing each other dizzy. Now that was something you could get used to.

“I’ll put in a PTO request as soon as I can” this has Mac laughing against you, holding you as tight as he can without hurting you further. Glad you hadn’t been awake through what he had went through. Happy to just be here with you right now. Whether you were on an island vacation in a month or risking your lives on another mission. No matter what he was there to protect you.

“That’s my girl”

[lupinescribbler]

Mac twisted his head, squinting through the wafting smoke and dust to see the hole they’d managed to open up in the wall. It was about the side of his fist, and surrounded by a fair amount of stray pockmarking which was likely from Bruce’s unsteady aim.

“Good!” Mac yelled back. His own voice sounded tinny and distant even to himself. “The pipe bomb is ready.”

“My ears are ringing, sorry, the what?” Russ hollered.

“Hold fire!” Mac ordered, ignoring Russ. He waited until both sniper rifles were aimed nowhere near the far wall before sprinting over and lodging the former chair-leg, now explosive, into the hole in the wall.

He rounded back over to Russ, gesturing for Bruce to back up further. “I’m hoping you saved a round.” He yelled, almost right into Russ’s ear.

Russ replied in a quiet, disbelieving, tone. It sounded something like ‘you are fucking insane,’ but then he smoothly lifted up his rifle again and lined up his aim towards the explosive.

Mac twisted away, wrapping his arms around his head — too little too late for his ears? — and Bruce wrapped himself over his daughter.

Russ shot. The pipe bomb went off. Chunks of concrete left a stinging sensation where they pelted against Mac.

Russ let out an excited whoop, grabbing Mac’s shoulder enthusiastically and shaking him slightly.

A hole more than wide enough for them all to squeeze through had been blown out of the wall, leading into the desert night.

“Fucking genius!” Russ grinned disbelievingly wide, hanging his arm over Mac’s shoulder with just a little too much familiarity. Bruce reached the hole first, lifting his daughter easily out through it.

“Still the worst rescue you’ve ever been a part of?” Mac couldn’t help but jab at Russ.

“Oh yes.” Russ’s smile didn’t fade in the slightest, but his tone was a hundred percent serious. “Most certainly.”

//

excerpt and a sketch from Reichenbach, a fic I’m writing