#macgyver smut

[ash5monster01]

Ground Rules

Pairing: Angus Macgyver x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, just two first time parents trying to figure it out

Summary: Much to your dismay your shared child seems to take after Mac and his curious ways. You had heard the stories about his unique childhood and if you didn’t get it under control soon, your daughter was bound to follow right in his foot steps.

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had first started dating Mac there had never really been any rules. It wasn’t until you moved in together you finally had to put some in place. You had tripped over one to many contraptions and been a little too close to some minor explosions that had you deciding on no experiments in the house. After a minor fight he finally agreed and Mac followed that rule to the best of his abilities and you appreciated him for it.

What you had never expected was having a kid just like him. You don’t know why it never crossed your mind that it was possible for your child to have Mac’s intelligence. To be honest you wished you would’ve and you could’ve prepared yourself for all that was to come with a curious mind desperate to learn. You had heard all those stories about Mac when he was a kid, blowing up football fields and smoking out labs, but none of it ever really felt real until now. They finally felt real because your daughter had now taken it upon herself to do science experiments anywhere she can.

You had left for only ten minutes. That was it. Ten peaceful minutes to go out and do some minor yard work. She was reading a Nancy Drew book on the couch when you left but when you had returned, the eight year old girl had covered the kitchen in what looked like some sort of green foam. It takes your mind only a second to go haywire, panic setting in, fear of chemicals, and misdirected anger at your husband.

“Jackie! What is going on?” you rush towards her, making quick work of pulling her away from the mess.

“Elephant toothpaste, I saw it on TV and Dad told me how to make it” you were sure smoke was steaming out of your ears by now. As proud as you were for how smart your daughter was, these actions could become hazardous.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what exactly is in elephant toothpaste?” you ask as calmly as you can, keeping your voice even as if to not scare her off.

“Hydrogen peroxide, yeast, dish soap, water, and food coloring for some fun!” she claps excitedly, eyeing that very mixture on the kitchen counter. Now calming over the harmless ingredients you look at where she has some foam now stuck in her curly blonde hair.

“All that made a huge mess in my kitchen?” you ask, reaching for a dish towel and wiping away as much as you can in her hair.

“Well I tripled the recipe for a bigger explosion” she says as if the sentence alone doesn’t make your heart stutter. Letting out a deep sigh you stand back up and start to guide her to the bathroom.

“You definitely are you father’s daughter” you mutter, hands squeezing her shoulders.

“You should’ve seen it Mom, it was huge!” she cheers excitedly as you start down the hallway.

“Let’s get you in the bath” you tell her and she just smiles wide, clearly content with what she had just accomplished and you now had to clean up.

Once filling the tub with warm water you help your daughter step out of her elephant toothpaste splattered dress and into the bath. Offering her a bath bomb she keeps her curious mind occupied as you step out and figure out how to prepare yourself for the cleaning you had ahead of you.

“What happened here?” you find your blonde husband with an amused smile on his face, eyes scanning the green foam.

“Someone decided to make elephant toothpaste, have any idea where she got that from?” you ask crossing your arms and Mac looks up to find you are not as amused as him in this situation.

“Shit baby I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d actually attempt it, much less inside the house” he says walking over to you and you sigh, trying your best to not place all the blame on him.

“It’s fine, I just have to figure out how to clean it now” you say, hands reaching up to push the hair out of your face. It had already been a long day and the last thing you needed was this.

“It’s okay, I got it. I’ve done elephant toothpaste a time or two” he says, hands reaching to squeeze each of your arms, and you offer a weak smile.

“She’s gonna be trouble, just like you” you say with an accusing finger and Mac smiles before pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Maybe, but at least I know how to handle it. When I was blowing things up I never had anyone who understood me” Mac says and you give him a panicked look.

“I didn’t say anything about blowing things up” you tell him, head beginning to shake and Mac quickly stops you.

“I know but I happened to remove an entire football field once in my life. Maybe I can keep hers contained to a small park or something” he teases but you give him a stern look that says you’re not ready to joke about this just quite yet.

“How about no explosions and no more experiments in our home?” you say and Mac clearly mulls it over. You know he wants to cater to his daughter’s curious mind, provide her with every opportunity he could to learn, but could that be done at the expense of your kitchen?

“One explosion and experiments in the yard?” he counter offers and you sigh.

“No explosions and experiments small enough to not alert neighbors in the yard” you finalize and he nods with a grin.

“I can accept that” he says before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now where’s our little scientist, I want to applaud her”

“She’s taking a bath, you can say hi after you clean up this mess” you tell him, hands pressing against his chest and in the direction of the green foam.

“And what about you?” he asks, a small pout to his lips and you slowly press a kiss to them. The pout gone in seconds.

“I’m going to help her out of the bath and then we’re going to set some rules” you tell him and he nods, saluting you as you walk back to the bathroom to find Jackie hadn’t even washed her hair yet.

It’s only an hour later you finally have the small girl in fresh pajamas, damp hair combed, and sat between you and Mac on the couch. The Nancy Drew book from before is open on her lap and you finally give Mac a look to tell him it’s time to set some rules and create boundaries for her.

“Jackie honey?” you coo, fingers reaching to push away the book for a moment.

“Yeah Mom?” she says, half distracted and trying to chase the page as it moves away from her.

“We wanted to talk to you about your little experiment today” you tell her and Mac nodded, blue eyes finding his daughter’s matching ones.

“Yeah honey, just a quick chat” and at her father’s words she finally closes the book on her lap.

“We love that you enjoy learning new things. It’s amazing the things you already understand, but we need to set some rules” you tell her and a sad look flashes across her features in seconds.

“You made a big mess today, one that worried your Mom. So there can’t be anymore experiments in the house” Mac says and the girls is instantly defeated, a gasp leaving her mouth.

“But Dad, it was just elephant toothpaste. It wasn’t dangerous!” she whines and Mac shakes his head, staying firm and on your side.

“Yeah but your Mom didn’t know that. So there is going to be no more experiments in this house unless approved and supervised by one of us” he tells her and her lip instantly quivers as her arms cross over her chest.

“But you and Dad can do as many experiments in the yard as you want and he’s also agreed to bring you to his lab at work once a week to learn something new” you comfort the sad girl, arm wrapping around her.

“You promise?” she asks, hopeful eyes looking up at her Dad.

“Of course honey, pinky promise. We want you to grow and learn but science can be dangerous and it’s important we treat every experiment as that” he tells her and she nods even though you know she’s not entirely on board yet.

“Does that mean I have to tell you about the habitat I’m growing in my closet?” she whispers and you flash a worried look to Mac who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Well, why don’t we go find out” he says, standing and lifting the girl to dangle over his shoulder. The giggles and squeals she lets out are a stark contrast to the somber mood she was just in and you can’t help but smile as you watch them disappear down the hallway.

“Is that a toad?!” you hear Mac’s voice bellow down the hallway and you are quick to stand to your feet and rush down the hallway.

“Oh hell no”

Taglist: @mayfieldss

Comment if you want to be tagged in any upcoming Macgyver fics <3

[tofuxtea]

𝟕:𝟎𝟒 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — murdoc (2016) x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, explicit, reader needs something, murdoc wants something in return, oral (fem!receiving) murdoc is an asshole, hair pulling, quickie (?), face fucking, panty stealing, murdoc uses readers panties, lowkey nose kink lol, clit sucking, tongue fucking, slight overstimulation

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — NOT PROOFREAD! literally stayed up til 7am to finish this bc i refused to not finish it. i had this idea when i watched like the second episode he was in and i couldnt get it out. also i need more david dastmalchian esp jack delroy, murdoc, johnny, and james lewis moots pleasepleaseplease

you were pissed. that much was obvious when you stormed into the prison with a slim folder between your tense fingers and a scowl etched into your typically stoic features.

you had demanded the guards get him into the interrogation room before you got there and told them to keep away from the door for the next hour. though they weren’t allowed to do so, they refused to fall into your vicious crosshairs.

they did as they were told, and the second you swung open the door to the stuffy, metal room you were met with a smug grin and taunting stare.

neither of which wavered even when you slammed the manilla folder onto the table in front of him and used that same hand to backhand him right across his cheek. your fingers closed around the collar of his plain white shirt before he could fully process the strike and you forced his body back upright. his handcuffs rattled with the motion. the proximity should have scared him.

“you sold us out?” your voice bounced off of the walls like a gunshot had rung out. but murdoc didn’t flinch. instead, his smile steadily grew until he was laughing in your hands.

honestly, you should have expected this. the consequences of trusting a sociopathic assassin like him. known for lying about any and everything, completely indifferent about who he hurts and the amount of chaos he creates.

you made the stupid mistake of placing what should have been the satisfying wrap-up to a very important mission in his hands and ended up getting double crossed, and your coworker and good friend almost killed. in whatever time murdoc had between your meeting with him and what was supposed to be a surprise confrontation, he gave away every last detail to whoever knew of your connections with him.

luckily, the phoenix foundation had never known a loss thanks to macgyver. he narrowly managed to flip the score and gain the upper hand in a heavily disadvantaged fight, giving your team just enough room to make just a few arrests. the rest were able to escape.

but despite the half victory, you knew it wouldn’t happen every time. so you had to remind your little informant who he belonged to.

your hold tightened on his shirt, and finally his cuffed wrists rose as a meek defense. “oh, come on sweetheart. i’m flattered you thought so highly of me, but i’ve told you before. my service only goes to the higher bidder now.” his voice was calm and condescending. it pisses you off.

you held him still for several seconds, debating on painting his cheekbone purple before shoving him back into his chair. it was so forceful, you heard the thin legs grit and scrape against the ground. murdoc chuckled lowly. “you’re strong for such a small thing, aren’t you?”

your eyes shot daggers into his own, but you control yourself. the team would only fall into deeper shit if you pushed him into a non-verbal state. they were relying on you, even if they had no idea you had come back here.

“you’re going to tell me who these people are, and where they might’ve gone.” you instructed, voice low and sharp. murdoc’s eyebrows twitched upwards as you flipped the folder open and spread several papers onto the table.

he glanced down at them, eyes shifting left and right like he was tracking a moving dot. “need i remind you? again?” his empty brown eyes came back up to you. his smile returned. “why should i?”

right. payment. in truth, you had shown up completely empty handed, boldly praying that you could get him to comply and the answers would merely fall out of him. maybe a punch or two. but this was murdoc. he felt nothing.

your jaw tightened when you came up with nothing. he seemed to sense that before you could say it and he scoffed out a laugh. “oh, then i’m afraid you came all this way for nothing, sweetheart.”

that was the second time he’d called you that. it felt almost dehumanizing coming from him, especially paired with the not-so-subtle observation he stole of your figure. though, it seemed to strike something in him, and the corner of his lips lifted.

“you know, i might be willing to settle for a second place offer.” murdoc held your gaze with a newfound intensity, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. dealing with many men in your profession, you knew that look all too well.

your stomach lurched. though you couldn’t tell if it was in a nauseating or interested way, seeing as your stomach suddenly tensed so badly it really could have been either. the man was attractive, there was no denying that. but still, you’d never pictured a situation like this with him before.

murdoc tsked at your shock. “i have needs.” he said matter-of-factly with a small shrug. his handcuffs clinked against his chair.

“i thought you had to be human for that.” you shot back.

every bone in your body told you to pack the file back up and leave him hanging. that was what your best judgment was screaming at you to do. not to entertain a maniac like him and put yourself at such a risk. but for some reason your feet were glued to the floor. you couldn’t move.

murdoc actually looked offended by your words, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “i can be as human as you need me to be. just say the word.” his voice dropped, suddenly teetering towards gravelly. “you need something, i want something. my prices really don’t get this low, you know.”

knowing murdoc, his idea of ‘needs’ was bound to put you in some compromising position. you shouldn’t. you really shouldn’t. but the way he was looking up at you with what could only be described as pleading eyes forced your refusal back down your throat.

then, his lips spread into a victorious grin. you noticed his sharp canine fangs for the first time. “good girl.” he breathed. he shifted to face you, reaching out to inch you closer to him with one hand. the distance between you two was already microscopic, but it got even thinner as he gently eased your legs in between his parted knees.

the chain that bound his wrists together granted him far too much leeway, you noticed when he planted his hands on either side of your waist.

your clammy palm pressed onto the table’s surface beside you to balance yourself, finding your guard was beginning to slip away. a heavy sigh escaped from your nostrils and your eyes squeezed shut while you took in your position.

you could back out now, you thought. there would be no shame in it. you’re only caught up in the moment now. he stunned you. that was all. you didn’t have to do this. you didn’t want to do this, you corrected, more loudly in your head this time.

murdoc’s fingers began to massage your hips over the skirt of your form fitting black dress, drawing you out of your meditative space. your eyes found his when they snapped open, and murdoc hummed.

“no need to worry, sweetheart. i know what i’m doing.” like that made you feel any better. he also knew what he was doing when he killed dozens of people.

you let a sigh slip past your lips when his hands traveled downward, inching towards the hem of your dress. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say there were two guards behind that door. but there isn’t, is there?” he asked lowly and knowingly, shooting a glance over to the locked door you had come in from.

your response was reluctant. if you told him he was right, he could easily use his position to overpower you and get out. but if you let him believe the guards were there doing their job, would he stop? you looked down at him, then down where his hands were gently massaging your upper thighs.

“no, they’re not.” you replied truthfully.

“good.” murdoc quickly replied. he moved you so that you stood in front of the table. your expression shifted to one of curiosity. “you can be as loud as you’d like.”

your face flushed hot at his words. how he said them so casually and cockily despite being (almost) completely at your mercy.

his fingers hooked onto the bottom of your dress and pulled it up to your waist, sighing with admiration as he took in the sight of your black panties. you gasped at the abrupt exposure, wanting to pull the bunched up fabric back down your thighs. but the sudden sensation of murdoc’s fingers rubbing at the dampened crotch of your underwear caught you off guard and you let out a whine.

“that’s it,” murdoc groaned when your thighs instinctively parted wider for him. he traced up your wet folds through the thin fabric, stopping at your clit to circle it. your chest filled with a sharp gasp and you cried out, legs going near slack. “good girl.”

your hips bucked shamelessly into his fingers, desperately trying to match his steady rhythm. “shit, shit,” you gasped, fingers curling around the edge of the table. your head fell back between your shoulders, strained whines falling from your lips.

murdoc quickly stole your building-up orgasm when he took his hand away to slide your panties down your legs and plant himself onto his knees before you. he whisked the garment away but you didn’t entirely care. the sight of him made you blink, realizing what he was about to do.

this was what he meant by wanting something? honestly, you had expected him to bend you over the table or have you straddle him on the chair.

“go on.” he gently nods towards the table behind you. hesitantly, you pull your dress down to cover your ass before hoisting yourself up onto the edge. you wince at the cold that seeped through the thin fabric meant to protect you. the rest of it bunched up at your hips.

murdoc’s hand slipped behind your thigh, holding it in place, the chain lightly digging into your skin as he brought his other one up to rub at your inner thigh. you waited for him to tend to your aching cunt again, but it never came.

you looked down at him, growing irritated. “what do you need me to do?” he asked far too sweetly for your liking. you glowered at him, but he didn’t give in. “don’t forget, you’re the one who needs something.”

bastard. he was going to make you say it out loud. humiliate you for a little bit, even if he was painfully hard in his orange jumpsuit. he had patience like no other, so he would get his way.

you swallowed what was left of your pride and responded, “please, make me come.” your words held bite and lacked the lust that coursed through you. and although murdoc looked like he was going to make you answer correctly for a moment, he shrugged.

“since you asked so nicely.” he said sardonically before he planted his mouth onto your cunt. the response was immediate, a startled cry of his name falling from your lips and your thighs tensing around him.

his tongue delves into your cunt, working you slowly and skillfully. you press a shaky hand to your mouth to try to keep yourself relatively quiet, but it’s like he knows exactly how you touch yourself at home in bed. he’s hitting every spot, and the vibrations of each of his moans make your back arch.

“murdoc—” his name sounded so strange when you weren’t cursing it to hell and back. “—fuck, don’t stop,” your hips rolled against his mouth, the tip of his nose prodding at your clit. you risked it and carded a hand through his hair, taking a handful of dark locks and tugging. he moaned, louder this time, and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on your thigh.

you watched as his eyes fluttered shut, practically losing himself in your pussy. he shifted to sucking on and licking at your clit, reveling in the way your cries got higher and more frequent, and how your body writhed wildly against his face. then he’d move back to devouring you, messily and loudly.

your hold on his hair went icy and you pushed him deeper into your cunt, thighs spreading impossibly wider. murdoc whined at the assertion, peering up at you through hooded eyelids.

the sight was obscene, burning itself into your vision forever. the feeling would, too. you hadn’t received anything like this in years, especially not from your silicone and rubber replacements at home.

it’s then that you notice that he’s breathing too hard — or rather, moving far too much — and that he’s slowed down significantly. and that his hands have left both of your thighs and had gone back to his lap. one still loosely held your calf, you realized, but the other worked at his stiff cock. you couldn’t see it, only the rapid up-and-down of his fist.

it wasn’t because of his jumpsuit, which he had worked open at some point, but because also in his hand was your panties. it should’ve disgusted you. watching murdoc jerk himself off and using your panties to do it.

but instead your breathing went ragged and you moaned. “fuck, fuck, murdoc!” he groaned in response, his tongue delving into your pussy in slow, deep drags. he didn’t care that you’re fucking his face now, or that he can’t breathe. he was chasing his own high, fisting his dick with your panties and listening to your relentless cries.

you cursed and cried out as the coil tightened in your gut, feeling like your body was about to explode if he didn’t stop. you didn’t want him to. so you held his mouth against your cunt, hips jerking sporadically as you finally came on his tongue. you felt murdoc’s lips curve into a smirk against you, but you didn’t have the strength to care.

instead, you let him fuck you with his tongue through your blinding orgasm, gently rolling your hips in time with his languid thrusts. you tilted your head and peered down at him, watching him get himself off with your underwear.

you wished you’d worn a sexier pair, but the stirring in your stomach was still there. just knowing they were yours.

a weak moan slipped from you when the sensitivity started to catch up with you. murdoc kept going, still licking up your first orgasm. “holy shit, murdoc,” you slurred, a second orgasm quickly building.

your head fell back and your fingers ran through murdoc’s hair, tousling it even more. but he persisted now, shifting to messily work at your clit. the noises were obscene, and the shame was beginning to set in, but once you looked down and caught his gaze, it was gone.

his nose poked at your abdomen while he sucked on your sensitive nub, and spit and cum glistened around his mouth. you held the contact for only a moment before you came for a second time on his tongue, and telling from the trembling moan he let out right after, he did too.

he pulled away after a second, both of your heavy panting filled the room. you could barely hold yourself torso up, you couldn’t even imagine standing up yet. so you stayed propped against the edge of the table while murdoc cleaned himself as best as he could.

“you can keep them.” you mumbled before he could even try to give you your panties back. but the man only blinked at you.

“i know.”

the anger from before threatened to return. god, he was such an asshole.

“that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked with a smug smirk as he wiped your cum from his face with the back of his hand. the action made you gulp, and the way he was staring at you, still on the ground, forced you to your feet and to the other side of the table.

you had to put distance between you and him or you’d end up shoving his face right back between your legs again. and you would rather die than have murdoc know that you wanted him to tongue fuck you again.

“right, now, can you give me what i need?” you asked, hurrying to rearrange the shuffled papers on the table.

murdoc got back up into his chair, watching you compose yourself with amusement. “that depends, sweetheart.” he replied. “what do you need? names or another round?”

did this in one sitting ur welcome. god i love david dastmalchian. so much. also i might write a part 2 to this.

[vinnieswife]

Hi :D, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just found your page and I love it!, so I was thinking of a story of Macgyver.

When the Reader is recruited in Phoenix, and she is as intelligent as Mac, and have similar skills. So Mac is amazed and he starts to feel attracted to her because he have never met a person that understands him.

Idk if I'm asking to much, if so, I'm SO sorry. :c

Btw english isn't my first language I'm from Argentina so I'm sorry if my grammar sucks :'(

OMG I LOVE THIS, it’s so short tho, i’m from Spain no worries amor <3

Angus Macgyver x fem!reader

wc: 357

warnings: none

At Phoenix headquarters, the air is charged with anticipation. You've been recruited for a crucial mission, and as you meticulously review the documents, MacGyver, a seasoned maverick from the agency, enters the room with his characteristic calm yet alert demeanor. “who’s this matilda?”, she smiled looking at him “y/n she will help us with a couple of missions her occurrences match yours so having both on our team will be great”

Your gazes meet, and he, with his ability to read people, immediately recognizes the spark of ingenuity in your eyes. Intrigued, as matilda leaves you two, he approaches you, and you begin exchanging ideas about the upcoming mission. Amid improvised schemes and creative solutions, the spark of a unique connection ignites.

The more they work together, Mac noticed surprising similarities between them: creativity in problem-solving, the ability to improvise, and a passion for exciting challenges.

As time passed, the connection between you and Mac strengthened with each mission successfully tackled together. On a quiet night after a triumphant operation, as you shared experiences in the break room, he couldn't help but express his growing feelings.

“you know y/n, every time we work together, I realize how incredibly compatible we are. Not just professionally, but also... personally."

You, with a knowing smile, nodded, feeling the same connection. “Seriously, have you turned your feelings into a compatibility test between us?" you laughed, his face grew red. “I wouldn’t word it like that but…yeah”

As you shared more moments outside of missions, Mac gathered the courage to take the next step.

"And what if she rejects me, Jack? It'll be catastrophic," Mac was so stressed, but he needed to give it a try.

"Come on, Mac, you know her. We both know she's going to say yes. Be a man and get the girl."

Mac nodded, approaching you after the mission. Your hair was disheveled, and your clothes were dirty, but to him, you were the most polished girl in the world.

"Hey," you looked up. "Oh, hi," you could see he was nervous. "Are you okay?" you asked. "Oh, yeah, don't worry. Um, can I talk to you for a moment?" you nodded and Mac glanced at Jack, who smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

"How about we celebrate something more than paperwork after this? How about going to dinner with me?" he said, smiling while scratching the back of his neck.

You, surprised but pleased, enthusiastically accepted the invitation.

Suddenly, a shout was heard, "I told you!" and right after that, Jack was hugging both of you.

"Took you long enough huh.”

That night, amid laughter and confidences, you and MacGyver discovered that your connection wasn't just professional; it extended to a romance that flourished with time and shared experiences.

[wojcheks]

Stuck — Murdoc x F!Reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NSFW, enemies to fucking, unhealthy relationships, undercover mission gone wrong, reader works for an unspecified organization, sexual tension, rough treatment, tied up, dub!con (?) (reader wants it but physically can't leave), choking, biting, fingering (f!receiving), PIV, unprotected sex, blood, possessiveness, murdoc is his own warning. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k 𝐀/𝐍: first smut i've ever posted!! the david dastmalchian obsession finally got me y'all. while looking for fics of his characters i decided to write my own. i only watched two episodes with this man so i'm pretty sure he's incredibly ooc. hope it's enjoyable regardless! ❤

You were told you’d be working with a wild card during this mission.

They assured you it wouldn’t affect the overall difficulty of the job. In fact, your partner had excellent skills in all the areas useful for achieving your objective. Weapons expert, proficient in hand-to-hand combat, knowledgeable, and calculated in his actions. All good things in your line of work.

What you didn't know was that they assigned you Murdoc.

And that was information that one needed to know prior to running face first into the aforementioned man. Especially during a job that would undoubtedly involve violence. For fuck’s sake, you would tear your handler a new one after this was over and done with.

Your first instinct was to put a fist through the hitman’s face.

A fair assumption was that he was here to derail you or, at the very least, complicate things. It wouldn’t be the first time he showed up simply to cause mayhem and be a thorn in your side.

Snarling, you threw his body against the wall and the assassin’s head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. With a forearm over his throat, you pressed down, immobilizing him.

You could admit that you were being a little too aggressive than necessary about it.

His dark eyes sparked with an unsettling light, something so unthreatened and unalterable about him it made your hair raise. He wasn't intimidated, you could tell. He treated you more like a nuisance to wave away, not an equal.

You felt his throat move against your skin when he swallowed, and it made you wanna press down harder.

“Calm down, sweetheart. The night's just getting started,” Murdoc murmured while leering at you from behind a wall of long eyelashes. They were so pronounced you wondered if he was wearing mascara.

His eyes suddenly grew wider in a mockery of fear, tone climbing to a falsetto, "Oh, dear god, what did I ever do to deserve this treatment?"

His voice grated on your nerves on the best of days, and this was a pretty bad one. A scoff rose up in your throat, but you crushed it before it could escape. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The clear irritation that lowered your tone into a harsh whisper, however, was unmistakable. A small twitch of his cheek indicated that the hitman found your reaction highly amusing. He made a move as if to raise his hands towards you, but you clamped down on his trachea harder, and he stopped. And as the meaning of your words sunk in, you could almost see the gears start turning behind that smug facade of his.

“Murdoc. Stop thinking of ways to make this more difficult for me, and tell me plainly. What’s going on?” 

A shade of disappointment marred his face before disappearing as quickly as it showed. “Come on, agent, you know me. Where would be the fun in that?”

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” the reprimand barely left your mouth before Murdoc’s fingers wrapped around your elbow and painfully bent it at an angle, removing it from his windpipe with a sharp tug. 

Wide-eyed indignation contorted your face as your places suddenly reversed and Murdoc crushed you into the wall, not holding back either.

You weren’t some dainty, fragile damsel in need of rescue–there was hardened muscle hidden under your evening attire. And yet, Murdoc still overpowered you, both in terms of height and sheer strength.

Your nostrils flared in anger, and you threw your body weight against his grip to dislodge it. 

He made a disapproving sound and let his weight fall on the point of contact between the two of you, driving the sharp parts of his slender fingers into the softness of your neck. You tried to suck in a breath and rasped instead.

“Now, now, you’ll either continue to throw your little tantrum, which won't end well, or start being useful by helping me,” as his words caught up to him, a displeased crease appeared between his brows.

“Although, using the term ‘help’ would be a dire exaggeration. I could be finished here long before you pick yourself up off the floor.”

You knew he was aiming to hurt your ego and rile you up, throwing you off balance around him seemed to be the primary goal. If you lost control and started lashing out against his mockery, the man would undoubtedly win.

He usually attempted it when the two of you ran into each other; it was a path well trodden, with various results.

Admitting it never even crossed your mind, but you were aware, deep down, that he was damn good at it. The words he used were one thing, and as cutting and shrewd in his judgements as he was, sometimes all it took for you to lose it was the damned look on his face. Always so superior and above it all. Like he wasn’t even human.

It drove you nuts.

You geared up for another round of verbal sparring before parsing his meaning. You hissed out the next words; the pressure exerted on your throat proved to be a pretty good deterrent from speaking. “Y-you’re the partner, the informant, that I’m... I’m supposed to be working with?”

Something in your face must have betrayed the distaste stirred up by the idea because Murdoc chuckled and then finally let go of your neck to bow with a flourish. 

You coughed loudly, to get rid of the intrusive feeling of somebody being in control of your breathing. You massaged the bruised flesh where Murdoc’s gloves likely left indentation marks in their wake, then rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

“I don’t think letting your guard down around me is a good idea,” you said dryly when he finally straightened up from the exaggerated pose.

“Oh, sure it is,” another wide grin split his mouth, and you gritted your teeth in muted frustration. “And oh so thrilling, I assure you.”

You didn’t grace that with an answer.

Ten minutes and one barely civil conversation with your HQ later, you and Murdoc walked arm in arm into the towering building.

With only a few minutes to spare, you didn’t even find time to touch up your make-up. Or double check your gun. And as luck would have it, what you were infiltrating was a ball. With dancing included.

You'd groan out loud, but you knew your companion had a biting comment prepared if you so much as blinked wrong. Murdoc seemed thoroughly entertained by the whole debacle and made no effort to hide it, strutting along with all the subtlety of a battering ram.

It was supposed to be his strong suit, being a shadow or whatever, but driving you up the wall must haven taken priority.

In fact, there seemed to exist nothing that made him giddier than getting a reaction out of you, for whatever accursed reason.

“Now, wife,” his lip twitched at the word, “how about we get this party started?”

“How about you never call me that again?”

“And blow our cover? I would never do that to you.”

You glanced towards him. He caught you instantly, his dark piercing gaze dedicated to not letting you get away with anything.

Those dilated pupils peering from beneath half-open eyelids were anything but easy to withstand, but you held your ground. That is, until he gave you a slow once-over, complete with a too-long pause focusing on your cleavage.

“You are infuriating,” you snapped and whipped your head away in the other direction, barely managing not to raise your hand to cover the gap in your clothing.

The man only drew closer and raised his own arm towards you in an inviting (taunting, something inside you whispered) gesture.

“I have my charm. Shall we?”

—

“Would you let go of me, you animal?” While you tried to keep the hissing to a minimum, he wasn't making it easy.

And Murdoc’s hold on you didn’t release, obviously, the words entirely ignored. You expected nothing less.

The leather of his gloves was smooth and firm against your skin, colder than expected, artificial feeling. The sensation was unsettling, a barrier between you that you'd normally welcome with open arms, but something felt different tonight. Instead, you wished he’d take them off, bare skin on bare skin.

The visual had its… appeal.

Even if the man it centered on did not.

You stopped pulling away to not attract more attention from the surrounding people. A couple on your left already began to whisper while unsubtly pointing towards you. Making everyone think that they were witnessing a domestic dispute was a terrible way of staying unnoticed, even Murdoc had to know that. 

He didn’t seem to care about it at all. 

He pulled harder until you had no choice but to step closer towards him. Your palm fell on his chest, breath catching in your throat.

You never really noticed just how much he towered over you when in close quarters, and you wished you still hadn't. Sticking out your chin was a childish move, but having no control over your present movements brought that out in you. 

Where you stood wasn’t a ballroom exactly, but the lofty ceilings and ornate columns lining the walls gave a strong impression of one. Grandiose was one word for it. Over-the-top was another.

Massive mirrors adorned the sides, and you caught a glimpse of your silhouette, partially obscured by the imposing shape of the man gripping your side. You shivered and turned away, oblivious to Murdoc's curious gaze following.

You skimmed the crowd in an attempt to locate the person you were after. It wasn't just to distract from the heat that image caused. Obviously.

“Enjoying yourself?” The singsong lilt of Murdoc’s voice coming from above drew your attention. You reluctantly looked up, ready to chastise him for his pestering; there were things at stake here more important than his pathological need to feel superior.

With languid steps, he swirled you softly to the side, and then pressed you into his chest, his grasp the very opposite of gentle. His fingers were demanding, leaving no room for physical distance.

It felt like a display.

Like he was showing you off.

He had to bend over to reach properly, the tips of his fingers running over the gap in your dress, moving the red material to the side, exposing more skin. You grabbed onto a lapel of his coat, feeling shaken from it.

Some strange stupor fell over you. Staring up at the length of Murdoc’s neck, watching him breathe in and out, the rhythm was almost hypnotic.

You had to dispel it, needed to focus. There was a tremor in your voice, one you hoped he'd take for anger.

“Did you forget why we’re here? It isn’t some fun little outing concocted for your amusement–”

“–I’d beg to differ–”

“–but a mission of significant importance to the security of–”

“–I thought this was a date–”

“–individuals invaluable to not only my organization but society as a whole–”

Murdoc abruptly leaned forward, cutting you off. “Do you even listen to yourself anymore? You’re really starting to sound like a talking head for your little agency, sweetheart, and that’s not very attractive.”

Biting down on a “go fuck yourself”, you turned, lips touching his cheek as you answered. “I don’t recall ever asking for your opinion, Murdoc. I think it’s better if you refrain from sharing it in the future.”

He caught your eyes with an empty smile, a shark showing his teeth. “Zero promises.”

—

You didn’t end up dancing for long before everything went to shit. 

Splitting off from your partner for the night gave you some room to breathe. It also provided a unique opportunity for an assailant to knock you out cold in a deserted hallway.

Later you’d curse yourself for making such a rookie mistake—never split up without letting the other person know—but at the time you weren’t thinking clearly, a little preoccupied with things. You weren’t prepared for it, was the point, and you paid for that mistake dearly.

A sharp acute pain in the back of your skull jolted you awake. There was a building pressure behind your eyes and a pounding headache that turned your stomach.

You felt sick, and that wasn’t a good sign.

One failed attempt to open your eyes later, you realized what must have happened. Your previously done up hair was tangled with a makeshift blindfold, the cloth covering your line of sight. A twin piece wedged into your mouth stopped you from screaming for help.

Trying to push it out with your tongue brought only frustration, alongside a coughing fit.

Too much time couldn’t have passed, right?

You truly loathed the idea, but still dearly hoped that Murdoc was on his way to get you.

If someone told you a few hours ago that you’d ever count on Murdoc for back-up however, you would have laughed at them.

But life has a funny way of fucking with people, and this must've been karma for all the times you talked back to your boss. That's what he'd say, at least.

And with your shitty luck, the hitman was already gone, sporting a martini in some luxurious hotel suite, ogling strippers, or whatever men like him did to relax. Shooting innocents for fun was more likely.

That measly hope was dashed when a small groan reached your ears. A familiar chuckle followed, close nearby.

There was a hand wrapping around your wrist and you scrambled backwards, heart-rate skyrocketing. Trying to get away from the touch proved unsuccessful–your hands were connected to a chain, which was connected to a wall, keeping you firmly in place. 

Deep breaths.

Looking for information was your first priority in a crisis, so you moved a hand over the ground, searching for anything to use. It was smooth but with loose gravel in places, like the coating of an underground parking lot, or more likely, a basement. 

Attempting to calm down the thundering beating of your heart, you leaned back against the firmness, letting long fingers caress the inside of your wrist.

“M–uh–rdoc?” Your attempt at words was muffled and barely audible, but distinct enough.

“The one and only,” the assassin's response came back loud and clear–no obstruction in its way, a luxury you weren't afforded.

For a split second, you entertained the idea that he knocked you out cold and dragged your unconscious body down here to do god knows what. It didn't seem beyond him.

Fingers clamped down on your pulse point, forcefully grabbing your attention. "You're tied up, agent, and I can help you with that, but you'll have to push that ego aside for a moment."

A protest rose in your throat.

“Be a good girl and do as I say, got it?”

With a swallow, you stopped. The near silence of the room made it impossible to tell if the assassin noticed your reaction or not.

You weren't sure how close he was. How much attention he was paying. Dealing with this strange thing that's been chasing you all night was the last thing you wanted to do.

Murdoc's voice was calm and in control, a tone that inspired confidence and trust—emotions you were, as a rule, reluctant to feel towards him. But you had no choice. This was the fastest way to get out of your restraints, so, keeping your worries in check, you nodded assent.

Seemingly able to both move around and see, he hummed his acknowledgement.

“Good girl.”

“Now, scoot over to the right, yeah, just like that, use your legs. Keep going until you hit my side, you're almost there,” he directed, clearly aiming for something.

A stream of soft murmurs of apology filled the air at the pained noises you made when dragging your ankle. Someone clearly bent it at a shitty angle when they were attaching the chain, and you weren't sure if it was twisted or fractured. It fucking hurt though.

The pain must've made you delirious, because Murdoc was not the sort of man to know what an apology even was.

“Now put your leg up, the right one, try to sit up and then turn your body around. God, sweetie, it's been a while since I've seen good old-fashioned chains… not even handcuffs, they have us in chains,” Murdoc's voice ended in a high-pitched giggle, disbelief mixing with mirth at the absurdity of it.

You successfully followed directions and suddenly found yourself sitting on his propped up leg, balancing on it; your dress riding up on either side of your hips from the clumsy movements. Goosebumps rose in the cold air's wake.

Your face heated at the image you must have made, all wobbly and sweaty, desperate for guidance, barely covered up by the torn dress. Everything on display for Murdoc.

It became hard to breathe.

“That's right, just scoot closer, so I can reach you,” the tone of his voice was lower now, not quite a whisper, but close enough to make you shiver.

Keeping balance with arms bent behind you and wrists tied together was not easy. More soft pained noises, more maneuvering into position and you slid down, your ass landing directly on the hitman's lap.

Was that a gun in his pocket–?

“That's perfect, baby, just a little bit closer, so I can get rid of that pesky gag,” he grunted, sounding momentarily caught off-guard. “You do look good in it, though, I have to admit.”

Incapable of hitting him square in the jaw, you resigned yourself to leaning forward instead.

Curious fingers ran through your tangled hair, fingernails catching against your skin in exploratory touches, until finally making their way lower, towards the gag. Moments of fiddling later, the gag was gone and you could speak.

So you did. “What the fuck, Murdoc, are your hands free?”

“Shhh, agent, what if they hear us?” The way his voice caught on a snigger, bereft of any actual worry, threw a gallon of gasoline under the low level rage that's been burning in your chest the whole evening.

“Are you fucking kidding me, you fucker?"

It hurt, just how much he didn't care.

“We could die here, in this stupid basement, surrounded by nothing but trash and bound in some medieval ass chains, because you’d rather play around than do something useful for once!” Your voice grew louder and louder, and being unable to see his no doubt self-satisfied expression made it significantly worse.

“I’m asking you to help me, just once, just this one single time, you asshole. To put my well-being over your own, think of someone else but yourself! And take this stupid blindfold off me–Please–” You were on the verge of begging now, voice breaking on a plea.

A long stretch of nothing followed, disturbed only by your heavy breathing. Then, a light trace of fingertips over your cheekbone. “I didn’t know you trusted me so much, agent.”

“What–?” 

Wet lips crashed into yours and Murdoc grabbed a fistful of your hair, pressing you against him. His smell filled your senses, something sharp and spicy, with an undercurrent of leather. The sound that left you was embarassing.

His palm was so big it encircled the back of your head effortlessly, fingers unkind in their urgency. He jostled your wound and you struggled within his grasp, trying to pull away with a distressed whine. Unable to see, unable to move, your body overcompensated for the lack of senses, making it feel like he was pressing into an exposed nerve. "Mu–urdoc–”

The groan made him pull away, sticky red smeared all over his hand now. He looked at it and chuckled. "Ah, they got you good, sweetheart. Let me make it worse.”

He didn't sound apologetic at all, and stuck his mouth to the underside of your jaw, sucking on the sensitive flesh. Tongue lapping up the saltiness of your skin, he let out a satisfied groan, hand wrapping around your neck to keep you from moving.

You let out another stifled whimper, part of you wanting to pull away from his possessive grip. The other part knew it would leave a mark and craved it more than anything.

Head falling back, your chest rose with laboured breaths, small sounds of exhilaration falling from your mouth. “Fucking hell–Ah–”

His other palm grabbed your breast, kneading it forcefully, wringing more gasps out of you. You felt his lips turn up in gratification against your tender flesh.

“Does that feel good?” His usually airy tone was raspy now, the gruff whisper making you shudder against his torso. “Tell me.”

You couldn't stop it; your hips ground down onto his own, dragging against the growing hardness beneath you. The emptiness inside you was infuriating, and you couldn't even reach down to relieve the pressure. You needed him now.

A loud cry left you when Murdoc bit down punishingly on your throat and gripped your chin between his fingers. He pressed his lips against yours before speaking, as if he couldn't stop himself.

“Fucking tell me, agent. Tell me what I should do with you. So powerless, all tied up, mine to control. I could do anything, so what will it be?”

“Murdoc, please–”

“Please what?” Cold air hit your skin as he pulled the dress up and slapped the back of your thigh, then snapped his fingers twice. “Focus, agent, right here, focus on me.”

This was all wrong; the way his gloved hand rubbed the stinging spot afterwards, his demanding tone, just how wet you could feel yourself becoming the more he touched you. The more he made you his.

“Touch me, please,” the words came out as a whisper, and were met with another chuckle.

“No no no no, sweet girl, that's not good enough. You gotta work for it.”

You couldn't escape, so you lowered your head into his shoulder, hoping to somehow disappear.

“Don't hide.” He yanked the blindfold off and threw it to the side, moving your head up so he could catch your gaze.

Despite everything happening between you, the mercenary looked near unbothered. His hand on your face felt steady, his breathing only slightly elevated, an expression on his face that you could only call triumphant.

It made you burn.

Your lipstick was smeared over his mouth, the red streaks physical proof of the way he crushed your lips together. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh and tear, a visceral representation of what he made you feel.

If your hands weren't bound, you'd be shoving them against his chest and running your fingernails down, marking him as yours too.

As it was, you only had your words left.

"Just fuck me, Murdoc, or do you need written instructions?"

The smug smile he sent your way was answer enough.

He grabbed the dark red material of your dress and tore the bottom part in half, a sharp exhale leaving your chest at the action. Then he stroked your ass, roughly stretched it and parted your legs, toying with the muscle.

You felt beyond exposed, a butterfly pinned to a board. Hair in disarray, flimsy panties not enough cover against forceful fingers and the hitman’s searing gaze. Naked planes of skin kept growing more and more red from the pleasure he wrung out of you. His hand reached between your thighs, and you closed your eyes.

He openly stared, drinking you in. Sharp canines peeked from behind his lips, mouth half open in captivation, and the black strands of hair fell over his eyes.

"What a sight you are," Murdoc murmured and palmed you over the thin material, fingers gathering moisture that soaked through it already.

You bit down on your lip and moved against his broad fingers, your muscles straining from keeping upright for so long.

He kept looking at your face and cataloging every little expression that passed over it, his eyes ablaze with a frenzy, an expression that in any other situation would make you shudder in fear.

Hell, it still did.

Impatiently, he pulled the material to the side and easily sank two fingers inside you, moving them in and out with a beckoning movement, rubbing against your clit until you let out a sob.

His wrist grew still for a moment, watching you grow frustrated in his lap, twisted satisfaction burning in his gaze. Then he added another finger, plunging all three as deep as they would go.

“Fuck, Murdoc, you shit–!”

He giggled and shushed you, "Stay still."

"Fucking bastard–"

"You telling me you don’t like this? You're not a whore who gets off on getting finger-fucked by her enemy?"

You wailed as he hit a spot inside you. “Shut the f-fuck–up–” 

“Aw, but you don’t want me to, do you?” He shot forward, pressing his face to yours, hot breath hitting your lips as he continued, “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers, agent, and then I’m gonna force them down your throat. Would you like that?”

Keening growing louder at the words, you moved your hips faster, panting against him, already nodding your head before realizing.

“I thought so,” the thrusting of his fingers grew quicker and you writhed in his lap, unbothered by what you looked like, only chasing your release with a single-minded determination.

Every once in a while your ass moved over Murdoc’s still clothed cock and he let out a pained-sounding hiss, his grip on your throat growing tighter.

You’d feel victorious if you weren’t so out of it.

Murdoc wrenched his fingers out of you and licked the moisture off, closing his eyes in pleasure. "God, you taste so good. How am I ever supposed to let you go?"

The sudden emptiness made you panic, and you caught his mouth in a kiss, urging him to continue. You could taste the slight saltiness from his fingers, your own flavour.

He pulled away from you with a laugh, then hissed again when you licked the side of his throat.

“Patience, agent, patience.” The grip on your neck disappeared and you heard his zipper open, a relieved exhale following.

The flicking of his wrist kept going for a few more seconds before he pulled out and ripped the flimsy fabric of your underwear off entirely. With an arm around your waist, he steadied you, before pressing the head of his cock forward.

At first, there was a dull sensation of resistance, Murdoc being bigger than you expected. But before you could protest, your cunt gave way, and he slipped in, the fullness and drag on your insides making you tighten around him.

The man rocked into you, his arm pressing your bodies so close together you could feel every laboured breath he took. You wanted to rip off the coat he was wearing, taste the naked skin over his ribs on your tongue.

You barely even noticed the changing gravity as you got pushed into the ground, your back painfully dragging against the rubble.

“I wanna spread your legs and eat you out until all you can think of is getting filled up to the brim,” Murdoc sounded almost delirious now, his hips speeding up, “wanna bury myself in you and keep going until you’re screaming–”

You encircled his waist with your legs, the pain of moving your ankle getting lost in the white noise that filled your head. You wanted him closer, you needed him closer.

Every time he pushed back in you squeezed him harder, wanting the stretch, urging him to thrust faster, squirming when he hit that spot inside you. It was almost too much, waves of pleasure twisting your insides, breathing near impossible.

"You'll feel me for days, agent, won't be able to look in the mirror without remembering my cock deep inside you," he groaned loudly, pulling you up into his lap without stopping the movement of his hips.

He bit down on your collarbone, leaving a red imprint of his teeth behind.

"Wanna mark you, scar you, make it so no one will ever touch you again–"

Your fingernails bit into the palm of your hand, his rasping voice pushing you over the edge. Knowing that you made him sound that way, that you brought out something desperate and reckless, a frenzied stream of litanies, from a man like Murdoc.

That was what did it.

Your legs tensed and clamped over his thighs, and you let out a string of curses. “FuckfuCKFUCK! Please–M-Murdoc, I–!” 

He covered your mouth with his own and swallowed the shrill sounds, kisses turning brutal as you trembled in his arms. First his tongue ran over your teeth, then he bit down on your lower lip until the skin broke, a small stream of red immediately smudging between your lips. The sting sent a pulse down to your cunt, sucking Murdoc's cock in deeper.

He kept thrusting even as you stiffened, insides clenching around him like a vice, and with a short bark of your name he spilled himself on your inner walls.

Your exhausted body was pressed against his chest and you were empty for a moment. No worries, no thoughts. The aftershocks wiped your head clean of everything.

Your torn dress fell off your shoulders, but you didn't notice.

When you came to, your wrists were free, and the two of you were laying side by side on the floor.

Murdoc was staring at you like the cat that swallowed the canary; strands of hair were sticking out of place and a thin sheen of sweat covered his face, making his skin look glossy. It made him look so young, but you knew better.

His fingers kept running over the red imprint on your chest, eyes occasionally glancing at your scratched up wrists. He seemed... content. Some of that ever-present frantic energy looked to be gone.

You exhaled softly, the man's lips grabbing your attention. There was a redness there, lipstick or blood, and you weren’t sure which option was more appealing. Either way, you couldn’t take your eyes off it.

With an unsteady hand, you ran a finger through it, captivated by the sight, and the feeling of warm, malleable flesh.

Murdoc almost seemed human like this.

In a deliberately slow move, he ran his tongue over the tip of your finger and licked the ruddiness off. Grinned again.

God, you wanted to punch that smug look off his face, and you wanted to kiss him until he couldn't breathe.

What a fucking day.

[lettyfanfics]

Outros

Masterlist Principal

MacGyver

Jack Dalton:

Lost in lust (Smut)

[chaoticcatbunny]

Multiverse_chaos AO3

Masterlist

Completed Works:

Oneshots-

Growing Pains (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/45022414 Rated: G

Soulmates (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/46434328 Rated: M

Eyes on Me (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/46867267 Rated: E

My Blood, My Soul (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48432094 Rated: G

My Omega (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48828244 Rated: T

Cafes and Love Songs (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48853210 Rated: T

You Saved Me from Hell (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48914614 Rated: E

Are You Crazy?! (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49010368 Rated: M

Lazy Sunday (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49164049 Rated: G

Regret Eats the Soul (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49304356 Rated: M

Can We Try That Again? (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49349137 Rated: T

Sink Your Teeth into Something Holy (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49373233 Rated: T

Stay and Cuddle with Me (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49397203 Rated: T

To Love a Teacher (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49420009 Rated: T

Till My Last Breath (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49442767 Rated: T

The Woman in the Sea (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49465672 Rated: T

The Underworld and Spring (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49496779 Rated: T

Reminiscing the Past (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50333056 Rated: T

Don't Say It (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50469313 Rated: E

Through the Mirror (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50517694 Rated: E

Make You Mine (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50548057 Rated: E

Scent Blockers and Heat (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50577352 Rated: E

Ropes and Toys (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50602705 Rated: E

Candles Aren't Just for Decoration (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50628742 Rated: E

Long Distance Fun (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50653843 Rated: E

Feed on Lust (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50687932 Rated: E

How Long Can You Last? (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50707534 Rated: E

The Warriors and the Godking (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50740750 Rated: E

A Different Kind of Throne (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50768110 Rated: E

Knife + Adrenaline = Sex (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50842588 Rated: E

Did He Just Do That? (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50843770 Rated: E

Drive Me Insane (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50892724 Rated: E

Behave, Little Lamb (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/50945446 Rated: E

Dancing in the Living Room (MacGyver, 2016): https://archiveofourown.org/works/51182017 Rated: T

The Lust of a God (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/51526240 Rated: E

Multichapter-

Strengthening the Alliance (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/44524090/chapters/111991342 Chapters: 12, Rated: E

Various Male Characters x Female Reader Smut (multi- fandom): https://archiveofourown.org/works/46310926/chapters/116594665 Chapters: 22, Rated: E

You're My Fate (BPWF): https://archiveofourown.org/works/48876073/chapters/123299197 Chapters: 2, Rated: M

Cartels and Omegas Don't Mix (Narcos: Mexico): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49619566/chapters/125237029 Chapters: 2, Rated: E

This is a masterlist of all of my completed works on AO3, if you have any questions or want anything specific my asks are open just please be nice. I'll do a masterlist of my AO3 WIPs soon.

[boolger]

snippet from a WIP I might post soon ❤️

Title( so far): The many costumes of Halloween

Fandom: Macgyver 2016

Relationship: Angus Macgyver x Jack Dalton

Rating: explicit

Tags: married couple, costume kin k, attempted scare, kinktober, smutish, fluff

——————————

“Seriously?” Jack asked, clearly unimpressed, looking over the reading glasses he liked to pretend weren’t his, since they made him feel old.

The person in front of him, standing just at the edge of the bed with a long knife, stood completely still for a few moments. The iconic white mask was over the black outfit, the hood even pulled up.

There was something simple yet eerie about the Ghostface mask. It was scary in the context of the movie and he wanted it to be scary now, yet nothing really happened.

“No?” Mac asked from behind the mask, “nothing?”

“Nope,” Jack answered, tipping his head to the side, smiling happily at his boyfriend, “though you are kinda cute.”

Mac pulled the mask off, hair fluffy because of the cheap fabric, making it stick everywhere.

“I’m not cute - I have a knife!” Mac pointed out though he didn’t look too upset.

“You can be cute and have a knife,” Jack pointed out, putting his book down, together with the glasses then, smiling at his boyfriend still, “also that isn’t real.”

Mac huffed, throwing the indeed fake knife on the bed. The he crawled up the bed, settling in Jack’s lap with a sigh, dramatically looking down at Jack.

“This whole ‘costume October kinky idea’ isn’t going to work if you don’t play along,” Mac said, with a pout, “also we need to find another name for it. Costume October kinky idea doesn’t quite fit.”

“I think it fits wonderfully,” Jack pointed out, moving to touch Mac’s cheek gently, “maybe you just need to try harder.”

“Really? I bought a costume.”

“Yeah you also jumped out the closet saying ‘rauuwr’, like a little dinosaur.”

Mac blushed, Jack pulled his face down and kissed him, rolling his hips up against Mac’s then, making the blonde moan.

“Let’s see if you can make me scream then, ghostface,” Jack teased, “or if I’ll make you scream instead.

Mac was the one who screamed first, after having been denied his orgasm three times, angrily pulling at Jack's hair but otherwise behaving as the sniper's fingers starved him of another orgasm.

The scream was an angry “c’mon! Fuck!”, after keeping it down most of the time. That was a win in Jack's books.

[dinosaurswant2rule]

A new chapter in my removal of the nanobots story goes really wrong :) 

Why do I do this to Mac? 

After Bozer speaks to Mac and fills him in on parts of his life, our hero realises something is up 

Also our hero has some smutty dreams about a certain tattooed woman 

For my Mac and Desi beeps :) 

@macdesiprompts

@macdesigifs

@secretlibraryoj

Mac didn’t want Bozer to leave, it took every bone is his body to stop himself grabbing Bozer’s wrist when he got up. Partly because he felt a fool and partly because he didn’t want to seem pathetic…and there was another more unpleasant reason. He couldn’t quite work out why, but he felt like Bozer wasn’t telling him something, it wasn’t just Bozer. It was the whole scenario in fact, the doctor, Chanani…Matty….it was all….it all kind of stank if he was honest… the secrecy or apparent secrecy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up. He shook himself after Bozer departed, it was nuts, it was his messed-up brain, the amnesia…. something, he was not being lied to, he…he just was just misunderstanding, his grey matter was playing tricks on him. He didn’t like the idea of not trusting Bozer, he seemed to be the only friend, hell the only family he had. Well, if he had more, the other hadn’t deigned to come see him at all.

[doolallymagpie]

bobbie and naomi: *fucking nasty in the cockpit of a marauder ii*

drummer: if dawes isn't on this frigid iceball and we deployed the behemoth (and two full battalions) for nothing, someone's getting this entire dart-class warship shoved up their ass

last night, i wrote filth, and today, i set up another mystery

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

DD Emoji Ask Game

I dunno if this has been done before, but I thought of it while at work and figured it'd be a fun thing to try out, so here goes~

This is an emoji/ask meme just for DD's characters, I've included all the popular ones (movies and TV only) I've seen in his tag with a whole ton of prompts that can be mixed and matched, so if that's something you'd also wanna try out then feel free to reblog, set your own rules/limitations for who/what you want, and take part with me 💗

Type (Optional)

🤔 Headcanon(s)

📖 Drabble

Characters

🤹 Abner Krill (The Suicide Squad)

🎆 Abra Kadabra (The Flash)

🕸 Bob Taylor (Prisoners)

🧛‍♂️ Dr Fearless

🤡 Dwight Pollard (Gotham)

😚 Hank (Virgin Alexander)

🦉 Jack Delroy (Late Night With the Devil)

👓 James Lewis (Teacher)

🚬 Johnson (Reprisal)

🖌️ Joshua Whitmore (Cass)

💻 Kurt (Ant-Man)

🥺 Lester Billings (The Boogeyman)

🔧 Lonny Crane (The Belko Experiment)

🔫 Murdoc (MacGyver 2016)

🙏 Piter De Vries (Dune)

⛓️ Ray Watkins (The Rookie)

💣 Simon Lynch (Almost Human)

🃏 Thomas Schiff (The Dark Knight)

⛵ Wojchek (The Last Voyage of the Demeter)

🥃 Wright (aka The Writer, Making Love)

🎲 Random

😶 Unlisted (Specify)

Prompts

😢 Angst

😊 Cute

💭 Dreams

🍼 Family

😨 Fear

🐑 Fluff

🤝 Friends

❣️ Happiness

💔 Hate

⛅ Hopes

🩹 Hurt/Comfort

❤️ Love

🎵 Music/Dancing

🤗 Platonic

🥰 Romantic

🔞 Smut

🌶️ Spicy

🍭 Sweet

🎯 Random

✏️ Unlisted (Specify)

[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

[rosieblogstuff]

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

44 😲 in my main AO3 account. 2 others in my older account = 46!

I didn't realize I had that many things!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

270,883

3. What fandoms do you write for?

All 44 of those works in my main AO3 are MacGyver 2016. One is a crossover with The Rookie. The other two at Star Trek TOS and Star Wars fics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Table + Flashlight + IEDs

Mac + (Wilderness + Training + Survival) + Jack

Lost Causes

Lake + Stick + Fever

4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I often respond to a chapter's comments when I post the next chapter of a longfic. And sometimes I just space on it and respond a year later when I notice I failed to respond.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh definitely my X-ray + Penny flashfic, Bad Penny. Most of the comments are variations on HOW DARE YOU!!!

There are a couple other flashfics with pretty ambiguous endings, too.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That's a hard one. Most of my fics have a happy or at least comforty ending. Maybe... uhh.... Electricity + Combustion ? which I literally labeled "whump with a fluffy ending". I also have two Jack Lives fics so that's always a happy situation at the end...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't. A few weird comments but I mostly scratch my head and ignore them. Anybody who hates on my fics will be getting a very long and nasty reply, followed by their comment being deleted.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, no smutty fanfics here. I did have a romance I posted for another fandom awhile back (and never finished), and I've written fade-to-black stuff in my orig fic novels.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Just one! My Macgyver 2016+The Rookie cops-vs-spies crossover, in which some LAPD officers keep coming across a black GTO involved in shenangains around LA: 4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did

It's probably the funniest thing I've ever written, and the ending is one of my very favorites. Also possibly the only gen fic ever posted in The Rookie fandom, although I don't look over there much.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. Somebody stole all my completed fics from FF.net last year. There was a big Tumblr post about some site full of stolen fics, and sure enough, there mine were. I asked to have them remove, got not reply. I haven't posted anything to FF.net since then.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, but not for a long time. I used to frequently co-write fics in my first fandom.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm going to go with Washington State Ferry M/V Wenatchee. Who doesn't love a good ferry boat? It's an irconic style, fun if you're walking on, handy if you need to drive on, saves you hours of driving around Puget Sound by land. Also just a very nice-looking ship.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Ugh, wow. I have a couple dozen things I kinda like but might never finish. My favorite, and least likely because I've made the least progress on it, is a MacGyver fic about Patti having plotted out her revenge better, and tring to fuck over the team by having listed Jack as her replacement... which of course gives him access to high-level secrets like Oversight's identity. Much drama ensues.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ramping a story up. Characters. Make a story fully story-shaped.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Endings. 😫

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Hmmm I don't think I've ever needed to. Like most things in writing, I'm not against it in theory, but it can be done well or badly.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Anne McCaffrey's Pern, back in the paper fanzine days. Prior to joining AO3 in like 2019, I had 0 fanfics posted on the internet but a few in zines listed on Ebay. 😂

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is IMPOSSIBLE to answer. I could answer it differently every day for the next couple weeks. Anything I already mentions plus a couple more!

[vinnieswife]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ materialist ⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

last updated! 30/01/2023

✾ = smut!

Celebrities ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Vinnie Hacker

Hyperactive ✾

Goodbye ✾

Knife play✾

Morning sex ✾

Public play✾

Panic attack ✾

Punishment ✾

Nsfw alphabet ✾

Dirty secret ✾

Mirror play ✾

Birthday girl ✾

Soft!dom Vin ✾ (head cannon)

Such a brat ✾

Live stream ✾

Tired Vin

Lazy day

Trust issues

Play date

Out of the ring

Jacob Elordi

Only indoors

Hard day

The date

Jude Bellingham

Our bet ✾

Pussy drunk ✾

Relieve after a bad game ✾

Hayden Chistensen

Young lovers on the set

Being in love with your co-star

Dating rumors

Harry Potter ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Remus Lupin

Autumn

Anime ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

MY HERO ACADEMIA ｡･ﾟﾟ･

Katsuki Bakugo

Bath and cuddles?

Father!katsuki

Dabi / Touya Todoroki

A…bath?

Kissing his scars

Morening with Touya

JUJUTSU KAISEN ｡･ﾟﾟ･

Sukuna Ryomen

Past lover

Our secret ✾

Sukuna’s memories

Under the sunset

Cuddles

Megumi Fushiguro

Evening with Megumi

Formula 1 ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Charles Leclerc

Some time together

Arthur Leclerc

Your firsts with artie

Stress killer ✾

Pierre Gasly

Nightmares

Dc / Marvel ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Alex Summers

Detention

Jason Todd

thank you

Dick Grayson

You don’t know how to shut up ✾

Star Wars ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Anakin Skywalker

Dating Ani

Face riding ✾

Macgyver ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Angus Macgyver

Work day morning

Bozer’s friend

His free day

Avatar ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Neteyam

back massage

protective teyam

“are you that ticklish?”

lost

Chronicles of Narnia ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

Peter Pevensie

Late night project

After the battle 

Pirates of the caribbean ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　

Henry Turner

A pirates love

[allofmytoxicity]

Who I will write for! :)

To preface this, I will write no smut, no self-harm, and no sa. This is down to personal issues, but I will not hate on anyone who chooses to write these topics.

Now, onto the characters!!!

NCIS

Timothy McGee

Tony DiNozzo

Jimmy Palmer

Ziva David

-

Marauders Era

Remus Lupin

James Potter

Sirius Black

Regulus Black

-

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner (x sister!reader)

-

The Inheritance Games

Grayson Hawthorne

Jameson Hawthorne

Xander Hawthorne

Avery Grambs

-

Top Gun; Maverick

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Robert "Bob" Floyd

-

MacGyver (2016)

Angus "Mac" MacGyver

-

White Collar

Neal Caffrey

-

One Of Us Is Lying (Books, not TV show)

Nate Macauley

Maeve Rojas

-

Along with any of my own original characters that I will post stories for on here along the way!

And Requests are open!

[boolger]

They’re really into my fanfics, huh

[dinosaurswant2rule]

I've added another bit to this pirates AU fanfic originally discussed / developed with @refinedbuffoonery and @thecarrieonokay

Mac is an officer in the English Royal Navy and ends up with a notorious pirate/merchant by the name of Davis (coughs)

@impossiblepluto - I recall you are a member of the WE HATE JAMES MACGYVER FANCLUB, so might appreciate chapter 3

Happy reading !

There was a cutlass on the floor and a heavy brown belt. Next to it was a black shirt, slightly torn and some well-worn leather boots. Next door was an abandoned coat from the dress uniform of an English naval captain. It was navy with various bits of golden trim on the shoulders and sparkling buttons each with a tiny pattern on it. Not far away were a set of dark blue trousers and a white shirt all crumpled and tossed across the floor. There was also an old pistol tangled up amongst the fancy clothes not befitting a member of her majesty’s, navy however it was in good working order. One black boot was half under the bed, another had been pushed into a corner, they were both scuffed as if somehow someone had taken them off in a desperate tearing hurry.