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my-love-of-books · 11 days

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The Collection of Failed Date Nights - Angus MacGyver Imagine [MacGyver (2016)]

Title: The Collection of Failed Date Nights

Pairing: Angus MacGyver X Reader

Word Count: 2,067 words

Warning(s): none

Summary: Mac and (Y/n) didn't expect their relationship to be the same as many "normal" people. Still, they were ready to do everything in their power to have some time for just the two of them. They had to learn the hard way that their plan was far easier said than done.

Author's Note: I've been considering one of those "____ Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with ____" for MacGyver, so (besides Taylor Swift because I get the joke) what artist would you like to see featured in that?

Oh, I used late season 1 for reference to the team members.

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Night One: Matty couldn't call at a convenient time to save her life

Dating when you work with the Phoenix Foundation wasn't easy. When both of you work with the Phoenix Foundation, then there were times when you were going to feel like you two were less dating and more trying to work in excuses to hold hands at work.

Mac and I learned that lesson fast.

Regardless of the circumstances, we tried to fit in some of the "normal" things. Movie nights and dinners and dates.

Easier said than done.

We learned that very early on.

I smiled at the little diner that Mac pulled up to.

Mac tried to explain, "I know it's not very fancy, but it was all a bit last-"

I leaned over and pecked his lips. "It's great."

He grinned at me before shutting off the car.

The night went on pretty well. We got seated, got our drinks and food ordered, and were just waiting. It was starting to look like we were going to have a normal night.

Mac was in the middle of some story from filming Bozer's short film when my phone went off. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and groaned.

He chuckled at me. "Who caused that reaction?"

"Matty."

"You're kidding," his face dropped.

I nodded and answered the call, "Hey, Matty."

"Sorry to cut you and Mac's dinner date short, but I need you guys to come in," she said. I sat up a little straighter, looking around for some sign of her or anyone from the foundation. "You two were talking about it in the hall."

"The fact that you knew to explain doesn't comfort me."

"Just hurry up and get here."

She hung up before I could respond.

"We gotta go," I told Mac simply. He groaned. "I know. Come on."

He pulled himself out of the booth and got out his wallet. "We would have much better luck if we just started ordering our food to go."

I just nodded.

Night Two: Jack is a lost puppy (even if he refuses to admit it)

We thought drinks would be easier than most things.

Not as big of a commitment as most things, easier to pay for in a rush, and it allowed Mac and I to actually talk.

We were both leaning on the table while Mac was attempting to show off after I questioned the whole paperclip habit. He was trying to prove that it was incredibly useful.

I leaned on his shoulder, chuckling as he rambled about the paperclip.

"Hey!"

I looked away from Mac when I heard Jack's voice. The small pang of disappointment made me feel guilty because I liked Jack. He's a great guy. But also, I was on a date.

"Hey," Mac greeted him.

"You two mind if I sit?"

Mac nodded, motioning toward the other side of the booth.

"How are the lovebirds doing," Jack asked.

"(Y/n) was making fun of how much I mess around with my paperclips."

"'Making fun' makes me sound mean," I said. "I was more questioning."

"Don't worry, I make fun of him too," Jack replied.

I let out a laugh and leaned back against the booth.

Mac just scoffed, "I'm happy you two find this funny, but I have saved both your asses several times with these paperclips-"

"And a crap ton of other stuff," I shrugged.

"Usually involving my phone," Jack added.

"You are both rude," Mac muttered.

I leaned on his shoulder again and he placed his hand on my knee. It was nice. I wish we had planned for our night to involve more than just the two of us, but this was nice.

I didn't feel right complaining about it.

Night Three: Bozer said he wasn't going to be home

I could barely remember what Mac had been talking about at the time. He was pacing a bit and rambling about something. I was sitting on his bed, occupied with other things. Like the fact that we finally had a night to ourselves.

"You're not listening," he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Excuse me? I always listen to you," I made it very clear that I was lying.

"Oh, really," he asked, stepping over to me. "What was I saying then?"

"If you mix hydrogen and a paperclip and... other... stuff..."

"What- woah-"

I pulled on the front of his shirt so I could press my lips to his. He managed to catch himself by placing his hands on either side of me. He chuckled as he kissed me back, making me grin into the kiss.

I started moving back, pulling Mac along with me. I laid down, moving my hand into his hair. He lowered himself onto his elbows. My free hand moved to his shirt buttons, starting to undo them. It was not as easy as I thought it would be.

His lips moved to my neck, moving down from the spot below my ear.

And then... Bozer's voice sounded from the main room.

"Mac! I was thinking and-"

"I'm gonna kill him," I muttered.

Mac laughed at me, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

"You said he was going to be gone for the night," I groaned.

"I know, I know," he pushed himself off the bed. "I'll go talk-"

The door swung open before he could finish his thought. Bozer froze in the doorway. He looked between me lying on my back and Mac's shirt being half-undone.

"Did I interrupt something," he asked.

"Wanna take a wild guess," I replied, pushing myself up on my elbows.

He just nodded. "Well, I was gonna order some food if you guys..."

I raised an eyebrow at him. He just smiled guiltily before walking out.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow and shut my eyes. I felt a kiss get pressed to my forehead. I looked at Mac for a moment to grin, hoping to show that I was upset with the situation and not with him.

One day, I thought as I reached up to touch the side of his face. One day we'll get a normal date night.

Night Four: Mac needs to check his pockets before going out on a mission

We had honestly gotten lucky the trip was as quick as it was. The two of us had invested in some tickets to a small concert. The idea was that the show was small enough that we wouldn't break the bank if we weren't able to make it.

But here we were, standing in line for a concert. We were going to get a couple of hours together just to enjoy what was going on around us. It was a dream.

When we got to the door, Mac went to pull the tickets out of his pocket. He insisted on keeping a hold of them "just in case". I don't know what he thought would happen if I kept them, but I wasn't going to argue about something that didn't matter.

But as a nervous smile formed on his face, I wonder if I should've argued more.

He reached into his other pocket before starting to frantically check every pocket he had. Small scraps, a paperclip, but no tickets.

The guy at the door finally waved us away. I crossed my arms over my chest and started walking back to the parking garage that we had paid for. Another waste of money.

"(Y/n)," Mac followed close behind me. "I'm sorry."

I tried to blink away the tears of frustration that had formed in my eyes. "It's fine."

"No, it's not," he grabbed my arm so he could turn me around. "I... I screwed up our whole night and I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes for a moment. His hands cupped the sides of my face. I felt him press his lips to my forehead.

"I'll make it up to you," he was basically speaking against my skin. "I promise. I'll figure something out. I am so, so sorry for this."

"I just wanna go home," I mumbled, feeling the tears starting to fall. Mac pulled me forward into his arms, guiding my head to rest on his shoulder.

"Okay," he replied. "That's okay. Maybe... Maybe we can find a good movie or something. And then we can relax and cuddle, yeah?"

"I want to go home alone," I corrected my statement as I stepped back. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," he grabbed my hand, starting to lead me to the car. "That's okay. It's your choice."

I felt bad for being so upset, but I had been looking forward to tonight. It felt like everything in the world had gone right for us to be there only for us to get smacked down right at the end. It hurt.

Mac was understanding when he dropped me off. He kissed me gently, continuing to mumble how sorry he was.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," I replied before getting out of the car.

Mac refused to drive away until he saw me walk inside. I waved at him from the door before stepping inside.

As I locked the door behind me, I leaned my head against the door.

I just wanted one night with no interruption or mishap. I never realized how difficult that would be to achieve.

Night Five: Does it count as escaping an escape room if we never went inside?

The other three hadn't even known about the escape room until Mac and I were getting ready to leave.

And then, Bozer asked if he could join. He was completely oblivious to the idea that Mac and I may have wanted to do something on our own. I looked at Mac, letting him make the decision. He looked back at me for a moment before looking at Bozer and nodding.

And then, Bozer asked to let Jack and Riley tag along, saying that it would be good for the team to see each other outside of a life-or-death situation. Mac nodded to that idea too.

"I'm sorry," he muttered to me as he kissed my head.

"It's okay," I promised despite my disappointment.

The other two met us there.

It all seemed to be going fine until it was actually time to go into the room.

"Wait, gotta tie my shoe," Mac touched my arm as he knelt down. I stopped, scoffing at him for grabbing my arm.

Just as Mac finished tying his shoe, he jumped up and pushed the door shut. He nodded at the workers and grabbed my hand.

"What are you doing," I asked, letting him lead me out. "We can't just abandon them."

Mac stopped outside the building, pulling me abruptly into a kiss. I almost squeaked out of shock as he did. My hands touched his sides as I kissed him back. He leaned back a few moments later.

"What do you say to picking up dinner and going back to my place," he suggested.

"And just leaving them trapped here?"

"It's an escape room. That's the point."

I chuckled as he leaned in and kissed me again.

I hummed and pulled back. "You've got yourself a deal, MacGyver."

He grinned. "Good."

He started pulling me along with him again.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket when it started ringing. Before I could properly look at the name, Mac grabbed it and declined the call.

"Mac!"

"We've earned a night together," he explained as he handed my phone back to me. "No interruptions."

"I didn't realize that it was upsetting you so much."

"I love the team," he replied. "I really do. But there are times when I want to be with you. Only you. I don't want to be a jerk, but... I felt like this was the only option."

I frowned at him. "We should probably sit down and talk with them about that."

He nodded.

"Instead of locking them in an escape room."

He chuckled, looking down for a moment. "That was a little rude, huh?"

"Maybe a bit," I confirmed. After a moment, I pulled on his arm. "Hey... I love you."

"I love you too."

Mac was right. We deserved to have time to ourselves. And we were getting there. It was just a learning curve.

A very complicated learning curve.

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my-love-of-books · 11 days

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Five minutes - Angus Macgyver

Synopsis: In which you and Mac are supposed to be studying, but he has something else in mind.

Warnings: sexual innuendos, MIT!mac, uni au, Mac is such a whore I'm gagged, there's literally no plot it's literally just an aggressive make out session. idk what to tell y'all.

Mac liked to believe he was a focused guy. Yes, he fiddled with things in classes and lectures, and yes, he had made a few minor chemical bombs in high school to pass the time, but he was in university now. A highly educated and focused man. He just processed information faster when he had something in his hands. A paperclip, for example, or the springs from a pen.

Mac was a focused man, but he also liked to make his own decisions, and today, he wanted to focus on something other than the scribbled notes and equations on paper. He wanted to focus on what was in his grasp, shifting underneath his very focused hands.

Mac is currently standing in the science laboratory, with you—his beloved girlfriend—in front of him. You're supposed to be checking the PH levels of specific substances for a paper due in two days' time, but Mac's heart—and hands—just don't have the energy to care. What he does care about, however, is the way his fingers feel placed delicately on your hips. His touch is light as he stands behind you, watching you work with furrowed brows, but he can tell that each time the pads of his fingers brush under the hem of your shirt, he gains a little more of your attention.

"Your handwriting is terrible," Mac mumbles, lips pressed ever so purposefully against the space behind your ear. He knows the effect it has on you, and with his chest pressed against your back, he can feel it too. Your deep breath in and your sharp exhale makes him grin wide against the large expanse of exposed skin on your neck.

"My handwriting is perfectly readable, actually." You snip back, placing down your pen on the bench. Mac removes one hand from your body to point at the notes scribbled in front of you.

"Okay, what does that say?"

"Two minutes till absorption." Your breath hitches when Mac places a well timed kiss to your neck, and you can feel his teeth graze across the skin there when he smirks.

"Oh, does it now? Because to me that looks a lot like a five." His hands have snaked from your hips to your lower abdomen, and he's nothing if not determined to distract you from the work.

"Okay, so it may be a five, but—" before you can finish the sentence Mac has spun you around to face him. The smug smile that graces his lips sends a shiver down your spine in anticipation, but you don't let it show.

"Mac, we need to get this finished."

"I think we deserve a break."

"I don't." You push Mac back then, gently, but with enough force to get your point across. "If we get this done today we can have as many 'breaks' as we want tomorrow."

"Or we could have as many breaks as we want now, and do this tomorrow." Mac takes a few steps back before sitting down on one of the wheeled laboratory stools, sliding himself a small ways back and forth across the floor. He has a bit of fun with it for a while before he becomes bored again, eyes burning into you from behind. He can tell you aren't doing the work you claim to be attentive too. He knows you too well by now. Mac knows every expression, every tone of your voice, and of course, he knows your body.

"Babe," he speaks gently, with less mischief now. "c'mere for a second. Please."

He watches your figure pause, and he can tell you're thinking it over. He tries not to smile when you turn around, but every step you take toward him is like a point on his scoreboard.

"Just five minutes, Angus." you use his first name so he knows you mean it, but even as you seat yourself in his lap you know it hasn't registered in his brain. He's too focused on your arms around his neck, your legs straddling him, to care about anything else.

"Five minutes. I promise." He winks at you, and you don't buy the deal he's made, but you want it just as bad, and Mac knows it. He watches the seriousness in your eyes fade, and the smile crawl it's way onto your lips, before he moves in for the first kiss, short and sweet.

It doesn't stay that way for long.

There's very little conversation after that, just the shifting of bodies and the movement of hands. Mac can't deny that he doesn't want to stop at the five minute mark, and he doesn't think that he can. There's just one problem—The chair at which Mac chose to sit and its goddamned wheels. With every kiss, grind and gasp the chair slides, disrupting the melded movements of Mac's body with yours.

Mac was a focused man but some distractions were too hard to ignore. That's why after one particularly deep kiss, and one very sudden movement from the unsteady chair, Mac gives in.

"Fuck it, this isn't gonna work." His words come as pants, out of breath as he stands from the chair, picking you up with him. The way your legs wrap around his waist brings out a quiet groan from his throat as he supports you, a hand on your thigh. Your grip on his shoulders is tight, as if you're afraid he'll drop you, though you know he never would.

"What are you doing?"

Mac squeezes your thigh, his grin presenting itself once more. "Improvising."

After all, that was what he did best, but you'd never expected this kind of determination from him, at least not now, in broad daylight, in the MIT laboratory.

In seconds Mac is practically throwing you onto the workbench, sending your notes flying.

"Mac—" He cuts you off with a kiss, a desperate one that has you moaning into his mouth out of pure shock and pleasure. When your hands find their way back into his hair Mac is a goner. He's a sucker for it, and with one tug of his blonde locks he's at your mercy. He's gripping you tight in seconds, one hand expertly moving up the back of your shirt, and instantly, you lean forward into him, his fingers running up and down your spine. It sends shivers through you until you're practically attempting to climb the blonde, slipping off the bench in your craze.

Mac doesn't hesitate to pull you flush against him then, deepening the kiss as best he can before lifting you again, grip strong on your ass.

You pull away for a moment gasping for breath as he brings you back to sit on the workbench, his lips leaving harsh marks on your neck. The bites will bruise later, and prove to everyone that there is nothing Angus MacGyver won't do to get a taste of you.

"You okay?" His eyes are locked with yours, a strong hand resting softly of the side of your face, The pause is genuine and sweet, and when you nod in response, still out of breath, the smirk that marks him is one that could kill. He looks better than ever in this moment, like he was hand crafted just for you, and when he kisses you again, tongue fighting with yours, you think that just might be the case. He fits perfectly with you, and that just makes you want him more.

Mac doesn't think he can love anyone as much as he does you, and he's been just as desperate for your touch many times before. He can never get enough of you it seems, and with every second you spend running your hands over him, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, he gets closer to going insane.

Angus MacGyver is nothing if not a focused man, and now, he is focused completely and entirely on you. His hands smooth over the insides of your thighs as he guides you further back onto the bench. His mind is fuzzy with the need to please you, and you're happy to let him, but you're both soon startled by the crashing of glass nearby.

Mac has knocked a beaker off the bench, the thick glass done for as it lies in shards on the floor below you, but it doesn't take Mac long to move on. He sends the broken pieces a quick glance, though his attention, his thoughts, his heart, are too set on you for him to care.

His hands continue their motions prior to the accident, but before he can connect his lips with yours again, he notices your gaze on the shards. He moves a hand to your chin, guiding you to look at him, and as much as Mac wants to take you on the bench right then and there, he stops.

"Just forget about it." he gives you a gentle peck, the kiss causing a soft smile to form. He's proud of it, and the fact he was the one to give it to you, though you don't let him off that easy.

"We have to clean it up." You dare to run your hands through Mac's hair, and he can't help but shift closer to you. He can't hide the lust in his eyes, nor can you, but you are able to function properly, unlike Mac.

"Later" He mumbles, his hands sliding down to rest on your waist. They're warm, inviting, and your restraint almost breaks.

"They're gonna make us pay for it." You whisper, barely able to form a sentence when Mac's hands start roaming softly over your body.

"Not if they don't know it was us." Any time his hands meet bare skin you have to hold back an embarrassing sigh, though you're sure Mac wouldn't mind if you let it slip. He'd love it, and the both of you know that. In fact that's what he's trying to get from you in this very moment. It's the sound he's waiting for with the brightest fire of anticipation.

"And what if they figure it out?" you're trying to distract him, just as he is you. It's been far longer than five minutes like you'd promised.

"They can add it to my tab." Mac mumbles, lips finally meeting yours again. He takes the kiss slow this time, though there is just as much passion within it, and he can feel you give in under the squeezes of his fingers and tracing of his palms. He lies you back across the bench, and you can't help but chuckle as he pops the button on your pants.

Later, you'll regret the impulse decision to give in to Mac's charms, when you realize the cameras in the lab were still running long before and long after your visit. Lucky for you, Mac knows a thing or two about breaking and entering, you'll wipe the footage from the cameras, and maybe, just maybe, take the risk of playing around in the security room.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MACGYVER TAGLIST: @ash5monster01

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

#I cannot believe I just now found the jem that is #macgyver 2016 #And #macgyver fanfiction

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my-love-of-books · 11 days

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You know what y’all who feel bad for reading fanfiction should do? Write down how many fics your read in a day and how many words each fic has.

I was feeling bad for not reading as many books as I would like, but today I realized that I read more than 30k words per day in fanfics. ITS HUGE, GUYS!

It’s not bad or invalid just because it’s fanfic. You are reading and entertaining yourself while you learn new things. It’s amazing!

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my-love-of-books · 11 days

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Tension

Pairing: MacGyver x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, smut, tension, dirty talk, flirting

Summary: The tension between you and Mac had been high. Maybe it was the fact you guys survived dangerous missions together or just plain attraction, but for some reason you guys wanted each other. The desperation and clear lust for one another is bound to break, and it was going to be soon.

word count: 1387

Masterlist

“You in?” Jacks voice came over the comms as you walked down the hallway of the mansion.

“Yeah, guards at the front door didn’t even see me coming” you snickered as you recalled two of the worst trained guards you had ever seen.

“Find Mac yet?” Jack proceeded to ask, mind currently on the task at hand. If he was able to come in himself he would’ve.

“Not yet. I’m sure he isn’t far” you informed him. Of course Mac had to go and get caught while he was in the mansion stealing files on the weapons dealer they were currently trying to get evidence against. It wasn’t uncommon for you or Jack to save him while he was in trouble.

“Let me know if you need backup” rolling your eyes slightly you continued to look through the halls until you finally come upon double doors, the sound of muffled voices behind it.

“Think I found him” you whispered over the comms before pressing your ear to the door. From the sounds of it, it was another two guards conversing, and if they were anything like the other ones this would be easy. “I’m going in”

Preparing yourself you cocked your gun, ready to use it if needed. Gaining some momentum you kicked your foot into the door, and with your luck it slammed into the back of a guard, knocking him over. You had a split second to see Mac was handcuffed to a chair before the other guard started for you. Wasting no time you dodged his punch and quickly retracted back and hit him hard. He continued to attempt to fight but you managed to get him down by kneeing him in the gut and slamming the butt if your gun into the back of his head. Both guards now passed out on the ground you moved to Mac.

“Got him” sounds of celebration followed after they listened to your fight. You clicked your comm off, smirking at the blonde boy.

“Tried to keep you quiet huh?” you teased as you moved to peel the duct tape from his mouth. He quickly stretched his jaw the moment you freed him.

“They weren’t much for conversation anyway” he grinned at you and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

“You happen to see where they put the key to your cuffs?” you asked, looking to free him.

“Sadly no, but I do have my knife” he wore a proud look, already swooning over the fact you just came in here, kicking the shit out of some guys to save his ass.

“Where’s you knife Mac?” you asked, crossing your arms, and he shifted in his seat.

“Front pocket babe, but I’m not saying which one” the thing with Mac is he exuded sex appeal. Thing was, you couldn’t ignore it. The moment you met him you could feel the tension. It was prominent and there from the start, no reason to hide. So you spent most of your time testing the waters, teasing each other, and waiting for one of you to cave.

“You sure you don’t want me to shoot it off?” you asked, waving your gun before shoving it in your holster.

“No point in breaking them babe, I want to use them later” your stomach jumped at the thought before caving and digging your manicured hand into his pocket. Of course it was the wrong one, and the thought your hand was this close him made your heart double in speed. Messing with him you shoved your other hand into the other side, you fingers curled around the metal of his pocket knife before smirking at him.

“I always wanted to get into your pants” you teased and he shifted again, your hands moving dangerously close to where he wanted, and you slipped your hands out just to tease him.

“The invite has always been there” and suddenly he moved his hands out in front of him, already free from the cuffs. Instantaneously you crossed your arms and he dropped the paperclip he had used to free himself.

“I‘ll get you for that” you pointed at him while shoving his pocket knife into your own front pocket.

“I hope you do” he grinned, standing from the chair. Despite the fact you were still in a very dangerous man’s house he sauntered towards you like he had all the time in the world.

“Don’t forget I’m the one that carries a gun” you quipped and he smiled, dipping his own hand into your front pocket.

“And I still have these handcuffs” he tilted his head and you let out a breathy sigh as he curled around the knife in your pocket. This was a dangerous game, touching each other so close to where you wanted to be touched.

“I have a feeling you’re going to be the one wearing them” you told him and he continued to move his face closer to yours, dipping his tongue to wet his lips.

“I intend to, if you actually come over” he told you, knowing you weren’t quite ready to cross that line yet. Hiding from the sexual tension had been hard but you still liked staying professional as well. Yet standing here, him towering over you, who gave a fuck about professionalism. In seconds you launched your arms around his neck, hungrily kissing the blonde boy.

“Fuck” he cursed as he continued to kiss you back just as feverishly. Your hands were everywhere, attempting to discover every piece of each other you hadn’t yet. Tugging on his hair he let out a throaty moan and you hummed in satisfaction. Slowly he worked his way down your neck, hands squeezing your ass as he undoubtedly left a deep purple mark on your neck. You weren’t even sure what planet you were on, the fact you were technically working now completely lost on you.

“Mac” you moaned and he removed himself from your neck, grinning at you and your lusted out expression. He hoped you had that same dazed look after he fucked you.

“I know baby, knew we’d be this good” he whispered and you smiled before he pressed his hot mouth against yours again. Your tongues roamed every inch of each other. You were so turned on you weren’t sure how this was going to work.

Your hands crawled under his shirt, scratching at his bare skin. He removed one hand from your ass to cup your breast and you moaned into his mouth, him completely muffling the sound. This egged him on to continue fondling you. He wished he could do it without the barrier of clothes, ravish every inch he possibly could.

“Oh God!” the sound of Riley’s voice over the comms broke you out of your trance, and you jumped away from the gorgeous boy.

“Everything okay?” Mac asked, and you nodded before pressing a hand to your ear.

“Riley, what’s going on?” Mac realized it wasn’t anything he did as you responded to comms that he had lost when he was captured.

“You weren’t responding on comms, I finally hacked security footage. I saw you, I saw, uh-"

“What did you see Rye?” Jack asked and a deep crimson covered your cheeks as you lifted your head to see the security camera in the corner.

“Nothing, she saw nothing. Me and Mac are on our way” you spoke and the boy snickered, following your gaze to the camera, and giving a little wave.

“Okay, we’ll see you soon” Jack said and you sighed as you clicked off your comms again.

“Did she enjoy the show?” Mac asked and you rolled your eyes, lightly slapping his arm.

“You just got us caught, you jerk” you spoke and he continued to grin.

“At least I finally got to kiss you” he said and you sighed and started for the door. Quickly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, kissing you quick enough you couldn’t respond. “So am I seeing you later?”

“You think after that I could say no?” you smiled and he chuckled before you turned back around, holding his hand in yours as you rushed out of the building.

You always knew MacGyver could push you over the edge, you just had no idea falling would be so fun.

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my-love-of-books · 12 days

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12 hours - Angus Macgyver

Synopsis: when you are taken hostage, Mac has to figure out a way to find you, though with feelings involved it's not like any other case.

Warnings: violence, kidnapping, mentions of blood, torture/drugging, angst, fem!reader

You're front door flung wide open was Mac's first warning. The lack of your presence in the home was his second.

When he'd arrived with coffee in one hand, and his car keys in the other he hadn't expected it, and as a frown set deep into his features, the hairs rose on the back of his neck.

His voice rang out, oddly loud in the empty house, only to hear no answer back from you. Silence, from every room. Mac wouldn't have been so concerned had you been different people entirely, but you weren't, and what you did for work warranted a need to watch your back at every corner. Mac wasn't so good at watching his own back, but watching yours had always been his specialty, which is why the fact he didn't see this coming, cut so deep.

The broken lampshade in the living room, and the crimson that had long ago soaked into the carpet brought more fears to Mac's mind than he could count, and the speed at which he raced around the house looking for you was unmatched to any pace he'd set before. The first phone call he made was to your cell, which rang in the upstairs bedroom without you to answer it. The second was to Jack, who picked up after the third ring with an irritated groan.

"It's eight in the morning man, what d'you want?"

"Listen, you gotta calm down. You can't think straight when you're like this, and we need that big brain of yours if we want any chance of finding her." Jack has a calloused hand placed firmly on Mac's shoulder as they stand in your empty bedroom. Mac doesn't need a reminder on the importance of staying calm. It's how he's survived his whole life, how he's managed to keep Jack alive to this day, and how he's managed to save you more times than he can count.

But he isn't calm, at least not now. Mac's gaze is locked on the top drawer of your dresser, where you'd allowed him to move in some of his things the month before. Some trinkets, a few shirts, though he can see one of them strewn on the floor in the corner after a rushed discard of it in this very room a few nights before.

"Did I ever tell you we were moving in together?" his voice comes quiet, distracted as his eyes scan over the room. Before he can spiral further Jack's hold on Mac's shoulder grows tighter and he spins the blonde around to face him

"Quit using that past tense bullshit." The man snaps his fingers, loud, in Mac's face, cutting through the harsh thoughts running rampant in his mind. "Y'all are moving in together whether you like it or not, and when we get her back, you better start packing your shit."

Mac can feel the pain welling in his chest, before he pulls himself out of Jack's hold. He takes one deep breath in and holds it for a moment, the air in his lungs one thing he can control. And then he's focused enough to think, and to plan. He's ready to find you.

You can feel a dampness on your clothes, and while you're unsure if it's water or sweat, it brings a coolness to your skin. There's a sound akin to dripping somewhere to your left, and faint traffic in a direction you can't quite make out. It's dark, and it stays that way even after you open your eyes.

You're not at home anymore, that much is clear, but you're not alone either, and as your eyes adjust to the black you can make out the picture of a figure before you, leant against the wall in waiting.

"Tired?" it asks, voice full of enjoyment. A sharp plastic digs into your wrists, and if you were to hazard a guess, cable ties would be the closest you could get to what was restraining you.

You don't respond to whoever sits across from you, and despite the fear begging you not to, you close your eyes again.

Faking sleep is better than being forced into it by a harsh hit to the head, something you assume happened earlier by the aching you feel. And it's certainly better than torture or interrogation—something you can see coming from a mile off.

"No, no, I don't have the patience for games." The voice has come closer, though you hadn't heard the footsteps, but before you can even out your breathing, sell the lie, your nervous system forces you awake. Water, ice cold, covers every inch of your body, weighing you down as you gasp from its contact.

Your eyes are open again, and you can see your captor, which isn't any luck on your part. It's almost a definite that you'll be disposed of now, once all is said and done.

A singular light is on above you, a bright, irritating presence. And now, as you cast your gaze to your surroundings, you see the various tools displayed on a tray across the room. A scalpel winks at you, as do many other shiny metals.

You wish you'd never woken up.

Mac sits in the war room alone, scanning through security the footage Riley had gathered hours ago. He can't see a thing—or rather, he can't see you—in any of the frames.

On the quiet Suburban street where you lived, cameras weren't needed. Which rendered almost every tape Riley had pulled from the systems closer to town useless. And the more Mac looked through each one, his eyesight began to blur. Perhaps the footage wasn't the problem. Maybe it was Mac himself.

Angus MacGyver had never not had an idea in his life. He was a quick thinker and always had been. Yet, here he was—trapped in the large expanse of a government owned building and surrounded by technology that should have been assisting him—with no plans worth speaking aloud.

Mac found himself standing from his chair, heart beating at a furious pace. It was as though he couldn't get air into his lungs, and the breaths he did take seemed to burn, his anxiety acid to his insides.

He can hear his own gasps for breath in his ears, frantic and rapid, and for a moment, he thinks he might be dying. He can see his phone light up on the rooms center table, next to the bowl of paperclips, now half empty. But the phone makes it all worse, as with the notification and the device lighting up, he can see you.

Trapped in the phone, you sit grinning on a couch, Mac beside you with your legs in his lap. The lock screen is a moment in time, yet he can still remember everything that happens after. He remembers Bozer snapping the picture, and can recall his own hands, pulling you into his lap moments later. Mac remembers you, laughing into his lips, tasting of beer, and the icing from Jack's birthday cake. It feels like his chest is shrinking now as he sinks into the memory, mind sucking him into it before pushing him back out into the now. He doesn't know where you are, if you're alive or dead, and the burn of panicked tears comes quickly. His gasps increase in volume as he slides down the wall to the floor, and with the blood pumping hard in his ears, he can hardly hear the door open.

"Woah, woah, Mac!" Jack is on the floor with him in moments, a firm grip on both his shoulders. "Breathe man, in and out."

Mac tries, he really does, but everything inside him spills over. He's an overflowing sink and it's so unlike him, as if grief has taken hold long before he can confirm he's lost you for good.

"I don't know where she is, Jack." There's anger in his words, fear forcing it out of him, and in his peripheral, he can see Riley and Maddy in the doorway.

"I know, man. It's tough, but we're gonna find her." Jack's support does nothing to soothe him, and Mac finds himself pushing the man back, scrambling to his feet.

"Really, Jack? Because it doesn't feel like it. We don't even know how long she's been missing. How long did it take before I even realized she was gone?" Mac has forced himself to face the window, as if he can hide himself—his pain, no matter how clear it is—from his coworkers. His friends.

"Mac, this isn't on you. There's no way you could have known what was about to happen." It's Maddy, though Mac still refuses to face her. He can hear someone step forward, and by the rustle of a leather jacket, he knows it's Riley.

"This was never your fault, Mac."

"I didn't know she was missing. I should have known." He can hear the crack in his own voice as he tortures himself from the inside out. And then he yells, an agonizing sound full of anger and resentment as he turns, swinging his hand out to knock the glass bowl of paperclips to the ground. It shatters, as does Mac, and his friends rush to hold him up before he can fall.

Maddy sends him home after that, though that doesn't stop his racing train of thought. Bozer orders him take out that he can't bring himself to eat, and he waits for you, as if by pure will he can cause you to form in the doorway.

He tried to wrap his head around who would have taken you, but the list of suspects is too long. Was it revenge on you they were seeking, or was the plan to cause Mac pain in this very way? Was it something to do with the foundation as a whole or one singular person? Every mistake Mac has ever made forms in his mind, but none of them fit with the story he's put together.

The open door, the blood on the carpet, the broken household items. Your phone left behind, coffee pot empty as you waited for Mac to arrive. Your bed wasn't made, and Mac could picture the day you would've had had things gone right. It's dark out, but Mac can't sleep. he stands, and despite Maddy's orders, leaves the house.

You're cold, shivering in a shirt that isn't yours. It's one of Mac's, checkered and blue, paired with pajama shorts that do nothing to conserve your body heat. But having something of his right now gives you comfort, a reminder that he will be looking for you.

The room has looked the same for all the hours you've spent within it, and you have no concept of time in its confines. Whether it's night or day, you can't tell, but no one told you that the scariest part of being held captive, sometimes is the fact that you don't know how long you have been.

When you see the man again, your vision is blurred and you can hardly bring yourself to speak. There's something in your bloodstream now, a drug given to you by the stranger, that keeps you weak. A hallucinogenic that makes it almost impossible to decipher what is real and what is not.

"Do you remember me?" the stranger calls. He's organizing his tools across the room, black gloves making gentle sounds with each movement.

It's hard to breathe, let alone to speak. "No."

You're sure that's not the answer the man wants, but it's the truthful one you can give to him. You can hear his footsteps now and they echo loud in your eardrums, increasing the headache you already have.

"Think a little harder. Look at me, go on."

You raise your head, though it feels too heavy for your neck, and do as he says.

"Do you remember now?" there's a lack of emotion in his features, like he's made of metal and wires beneath the skin that pulls him together. But you can't put his face into full focus. Maybe it's the drugs, or the tears of frustration that pull themselves to the front of your eyes, but you can't remember seeing a face like his.

"No." It's a struggle to keep eye contact, but you hold out. "I don't remember a single thing about you."

The man lets out a grunt—at least that's what you make it out to be—before wandering back to his cart of metal devices. They're all surprisingly clean, and in between the items, you can see a syringe. A fresh dose of whatever drug you're already pumped full of.

You think the man is going to reach for it, but instead he picks up one of the many other tools. It's sharp, and you can tell it's going to hurt.

"Here's someone we both remember. Angus MacGyver. Does that ring any bells for you?" he's brought the knife, if you can call it one, over to your side, but you flinch at Mac's name more than the cool touch of the metal.

"Who?" You can hardly keep your head up, but if there's one thing you won't do, it's betray the man you love the most.

The knife stings as it digs into your bicep, and burns further as it's dragged all the way down to your forearm. There are tears and screams that leave you along with it, but you doubt anyone can hear. The sleeve of Mac's shirt has been torn in the wake of the cut, and your blood will stain the fabric forevermore.

"Angus MacGyver," the man speaks the name again once your screams have subsided to mere whimpers. "now, a little birdy told me a secret about you and him. D'you wanna know what it is?"

"I don't know any man by that name." You're curled in on yourself as far as you can go with your hands restrained behind you, the pain unbearable as it courses through your arm.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping here, but you don't look like the kind of woman to buy oversized men's plaid." He tugs at the fabric of your shirt, pulling you back to sit upright. "There is of course, this too."

Slowly, you peel your eyes open. The man has pulled his own chair up to sit in front of you. It's made of old, splintering wood, and you don't understand how you hadn't seen it before. In his gloved hand, he holds a picture. Printed on glossy paper is an image of you and Mac, and unhelpfully, the photo has captured him, kissing you as though his life depends on it. Which he did often.

You're stood in an alleyway, Mac's hands gripping you tight as your own are tangled to great lengths in his hair. Next, the man shows an image of Mac, seated on a barstool with you in his lap. You both hold half empty beers with grins wide on your faces. You are shown picture after picture of you and Mac together, holding hands, kissing, laughing, and even fighting, all taken from some unknown point of view. But the last photo is one you recognize. It's shows Mac in the same blue check shirt you wear now, holding you close. He's looking down at you in the picture with the utmost affection, whilst you send a toothy grin to the camera. The photo is aged, with fuzzy edges, well loved just like the people it holds. It's the photo that has sat on your bedside table for years, and now it lies in the hands of someone who doesn't deserve its memories.

"Now we're all caught up, let's talk about our mutual friend." He's picked up the knife again, your blood still dripping from the blade.

"I don't know that man." you don't know why you're persisting when all the evidence lies in front of you on hard concrete flooring. You're buying time at best.

"Well you know his tongue at least. What, with it having been down your throat and all."

You don't respond to that, and a laugh escapes the dimly lit figure in front of you. He's moved back to his cart, eyeing up each and every violent item he could use to pull the words he wants from you.

"MacGyver knows me, even if you don't." The man picks up a cloth and wipes your blood from his gloves. His pace is slow, teasing. "He's a hard man to hurt, with no mother, father, siblings. So how do I get my leverage?"

The silence presses down on the both of you, and he's waiting for something. His eyes cast over you expectantly in a way that makes your skin crawl.

"Do you wanna take a guess?" He asks finally, brandishing now a new weapon, this one worse than the last. You don't answer, head sinking down in defeat, the drugs are wearing off, but you're still tired, and the feeling of your own blood flooding out of you isn't easy to handle.

The man takes his seat again, with the new blade in one hand and syringe in the other. "Men like him are weak for the women they love."

Mac had ducked under crime scene tape many times in his life, but doing so to enter your house was something he had never done before. It was dark in every room, Mac fumbling his way up the staircase in the black. He knew his way around the place by now, and he'd slammed into every door throughout his years of being your lover. He could probably recall how his back felt pressed to the wood of each one, whilst you kissed him fiercely, from memory.

When he makes it to your bedroom he reaches for the light switch, the bright yellow making everything clear. Your bedsheets, creased and pushed to the edge of the mattress, some of your clothes in a pile on the chair. Mac hadn't noticed before though, the empty picture frame on the bedside table. He can't remember a time when the frame wasn't taken up by his favorite picture of you, and now the lack of it jars him.

He's moves fast once it registers, and picks it up delicately. The frame is perfectly in tact, but it lacks the presence of your smile within it and it doesn't take long for Mac to race his newfound evidence to the phoenix foundation. When he arrives, what should be a dark, lifeless building, is lit up with people bustling about inside. The doors are unlocked and Mac isn't stopped on his way down to the lab like he thought he would have been.

"Hey, Mac!"

Jack. It's always Jack.

"Maddy sent you home amigo." He catches up fast, chasing Mac down the hall, though Mac can't stop. He slips into the elevator hoping to leave Jack behind, but the man pushes his way inside right after him. "What you got there?"

Mac has the lightest hold on the object in his grasp, afraid to damage what little information could save your life. "It's a picture frame, from Y/N's. Whoever took her could have taken the picture that was inside." It sounds so inconsequential when he says it out loud, the 'could have' in the sentence echoing out.

"So you're thinking you can check the thing for fingerprints." Jack confirms, nodding as the doors to the elevator open up to the lab floor. Bozer and Riley sit at one of the desks, scanning through what looks to be even more security footage.

"Mac," Riley's eyes are wide, and Mac can tell by the way she's scanning over him that he doesn't look well. His hair is disheveled from how many times his hands have anxiously raked through it, his eyes tired yet somehow wide awake. "We didn't think you'd be back till tomorrow."

Mac doesn't answer but instead places the frame down on the table. "We need to check the fingerprints on this, now."

But before any of them can make a move to do so, Bozer takes a sharp breath.

"Jack, you need to get Mac out of here." His eyes are fixed to the computer screen in front of him, and when Riley slides her wheeled chair over to peek at screen, she stands abruptly.

"What? What is it?" Mac pushes forward, but Riley blocks his view.

"Mac, I really don't think you should see this." She's placed her hands on his chest, trying to coax him backward, and without need for explanation, Jack grasps onto Mac's shoulders. He's trying to tug him out of the room, Mac realises.

"If you've found something, I deserve to know what."

Jack's fingers dig deep into Mac's shoulder blades, grounding him to the spot. "I don't know what they've found either, brother, but if they think you shouldn't see it, I stand by 'em." He tries to guide Mac away again, and the look on Riley's face tears him apart. Her brown eyes hold sympathy and a kind of fear he had yet to see from her.

"Riley," Mac's voice is surprisingly steady considering the waves he feels inside. "Just tell me one thing. Is she dead?".

She looks over at Jack, and they exchange silent words, though, Mac can't tell what exactly they are. "I don't know, Mac. I don't know."

There are tears that well in Bozer's eyes when Mac glances to him, and in a second, he's broken free from Jack's loosening grasp. He slips past Riley toward the computer, and he's choked for air the second he sees it.

It's a video file, sent to Bozer's email, currently paused. In the frozen image, you sit slumped in a chair, the rest of the room dark around you. There are cuts and bruises littered on every inch of skin that Mac can see in the dim light, and behind you, pinned to the wall is a collage of photos. Mac can just make it out from the blurry footage, the picture that had once been in the frame beside him stuck right in the center, above your limp body.

"Play the video, Bozer."

Mac can all but whisper it, his voice caught in the silence that lies between every pair of lungs in the room.

Bozer does as he's told despite hesitation and shaking heads from both Riley and Jack, and in moments, the footage is rolling.

Gravely words come from somewhere behind the camera, anger within them, and a kind of amusement too.

"She's not dead. I know that's what you're thinking. But she's not. Yet. Every cut was carefully placed, painful, yes, but not immediately fatal. She's losing blood, Macgyver. So it won't be long. 12 hours. Trace the email if you want. Take the easy way out. I won't be here either way. For what it's worth, I hope you don't make it in time. Then you'll know how I felt."

The audio cuts out, and the video comes to an abrupt end, the screen embraced in black.

Mac allows himself time to stand there, to think it over. His hands shake as he runs one through his hair, and he feels Jack's grasp on him once more. Mac flinches, a rage once unknown to him boiling in his stomach.

"You were right," he says finally, cutting through the quiet. "I shouldn't have seen it."

Thanks to Riley, Mac knows exactly where you are in minutes. He doesn't give the others time to stop him once he knows, and he's never raced down the Phoenix halls quite so fast.

He's burning rubber on the drive over, and when he finally makes it to the abandoned subway station, he doesn't think about the danger he's in. It's clear whoever has you really wants him, and he has nothing but an army knife on his person. Not that that had ever stopped him before.

He runs down every passage and checks every maintenance room he can find, tripping his way down every staircase. The hallways echo and groan, and with every sound he flinches, wondering if it could be you.

When Mac reaches the end of the station, he's at a loss for words. You're not here, or maybe he's missed something. Maybe Riley was wrong. He crouches down in defeat at the end of the tunnels, head bowed and breathless. He doesn't know why he does it, but he shouts, voice hoarse and dry. He's done a lot of that over the past day, even though he doesn't have the time to. His own voice echoes back to him, bouncing off of every surrounding wall. It sings down the tunnels and into the darkness, and it's all Mac has left. He leaps off the platform and onto the tracks, daring to walk down with only the light of his phone to guide him. The subway no longer runs, the tracks dusty after years of no use, yet it still seems dangerous.

Mac scans his phone's torch light over every crumbling wall, more than one rat squealing as they run from his fast-paced steps. He dares to call your name into the darkness over and over, hoping the sound of you will be a guiding light. He's hopeful, and with that hope comes pain. He doesn't hear you shout back like he prayed you would, even when he does so again and again.

Silence. Other than his own steps and the sound of his desperate breaths. Silence. Other than the crunch of dirt and debris under his boots. Silence. Other than the scream. The scream that finally echoes down the tunnel, pounding Mac at full force. Silence. Other than the sound of you.

His name echoes out of the black, your voice pulling him into a sprint as Mac continues to call to you, begging for your answer. He's closer now, close enough to hear your sobs behind the stone. You're behind the walls, Mac realizes, and he can't find the way in.

He's pummeling the solid rock, as if with his fists alone, he can break it. There's nothing he can use to help him, unlike many missions before. He's improvising with himself and himself only.

There is blood on Mac's knuckles from each slam of his fists when he decides to try a different approach. The bones in his hands still ache as he slides his palms along the wall, pushing on every crack he can find in the dark. He calls to you again, just to make sure you're still with him. Still alive. But this time you don't answer. It feels as though his heart may be constricting in his chest, like the ribcage that holds every important part of him has shrunk two sizes. He calls out again and is met with another round of quiet.

When Mac feels air, cold against his hand he knows he's found it. The way to you. He pushes hard against the stone that blocks his path, and the weight on his chest decreases, if only for a moment. And then he's in yet another tunnel, though this time he can see a light at the end. It's dim and seems to fade in and out as he moves. And when the tunnel opens out into a room Mac has never seen, the light sits like a halo above your drooped head. You're covered in patches of red. Blood, some dry, and some still dripping from the open parts of you.

"Hey, baby, can you hear me?" Mac is now knelt at your feet, Swiss army knife slicing easily through the ties that bind you. He fears for the worst when he places three fingers against your neck, checking for a pulse that is there, but weak. With every touch Mac's hands become coated in a new layer of your blood, warm liquid coming from behind ice cold skin.

"That's it, open those eyes." His voice is soft as you begin to stir, fear layered beneath his quiet tone, and Mac is tearing up his shirt in seconds for fabric to bind your wounds.

For a moment, he allows his gaze shifts to the wall behind you, where hundreds of photos seem to be pasted to the wall. Along with the one from your bedroom, the pictures contain nothing but you and Mac together. Every date night, fight and hidden moment not so private anymore.

Your eyes are open now, though your gaze is foggy, and Mac watches the tears run silently down your cheeks. He's trying his best to stop the bleeding of every cut and gash in your skin, and forces himself to focus entirely on the movements of his hands.

"You know, it's not as bad as it looks."

Mac is moving frantically to preserve what should be inside of your body when you say it, and when he looks back up at you, your eyes have closed again.

"Eyes open baby," He squeezes your hand as he continues to work, "keep them open for me." It's occurring to Mac now that he can't possibly cover all of your wounds, and that soon, he's going to have to carry you out of the room, whether you're bleeding or not.

"When were you gonna tell me you have a bunch of holes in you, huh?" He tries to send you a smile with the joke, but his voice cracks midway through the words.

"oh, I didn't notice." your chest rises hard with what Mac hopes to be a laugh, though a pained one. "I'm sorry for getting blood on your shirt."

"Shirts', plural" Mac corrects, gesturing to the pieces of fabric he has now wrapped around your wounds. "But don't worry about that, c'mere."

He's up on his feet now, and reaches out to pull you into his arms.

It's hard, and the howl of agony that leaves you in your attempt to stand is piercing, even with all of your weight held up by Mac. You're panting heavily, even after the majority of the pain has subsided, and Mac feels guilty about the next step in his pitiful plan.

"Just keep breathing, honey." his grip on you is tight, despite the fact his fingers press down on your injuries. "I'm going to pick you up, okay? On the count of three, bridal style."

"I was hoping we could save that for the wedding." The joke doesn't quite land, considering the sobs you mutter it through, but Mac forces a chuckle anyway. He adjusts his hold on you, placing a kiss to your temple as he does.

"On three, ready?" Mac can feel you grip him tighter as he says it, and his own heart races at the thought of hurting you. "One, two—" The three is lost amongst your cries as Mac lifts you into his arms, and he doesn't flinch even as your teeth sink into his shoulder out of sheer pain. Sobs wrack your body as Mac takes the first few steps out of the room, trying to be as careful as he can.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're doing great. Deep breaths, baby. Deep breaths." He knows he can't put you down now, not until you're safe and outside, but without torchlight to guide the way Mac is seeing blind. He walks with caution through the darkness, wasting time with the snails pace he takes, and just when he thinks he's going to have to re-evaluate this plan of his, go back and make a headlight from the scraps in the room, Mac hears something up ahead. The sound of many shuffling feet, conversation, and then finally the calling of Mac's name and yours. It's his friends, Jack, Riley and Bozer, with their own torches some way up the tunnel.

"We're over here!" Mac shouts, desperation breaking the notes he speaks. "I've got her, we're here!"

Mac can feel your cries of relief into his chest, and as the lights up ahead get closer, Mac can't help but shed tears too. He's relieved, and as the beams shine brighter, he spares a glance to downward. You're looking up at him when he does, gasping through your own sobs, with a smile on your lips. And he smiles back, genuinely this time.

MACGYVER TAGLIST: @ash5monster01

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!!

AN: I was supposed to post this two days ago for our boys birthday but that plan kinda went out the window when the doubts crept in.

#HYPERVENTILATING AND SOBBING

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my-love-of-books · 12 days

Text

Scars of Our Past

Pairing: MacGyver x FemReader

Warnings: pure fluff, mentions of injury, mentions of nudity

Summary: You love every part of MacGyver, not a single part of him held an imperfection. You even find beauty in the things he thinks are the ugliest parts of himself.

word count: 563

Masterlist

Normally you weren’t the first one up. It was usually Mac who had to pull you from the confines of your shared bed. Yet today, as the sun shone through the windows of the room, you found yourself admiring the blonde boy beside you as he continued to sleep. His hair fell messily onto the pillow, the hills of his cherry lips humming with sleep, the moles scattered like constellations across his body (including your favorite one on his neck), and the circular scar left across his pec.

Mac had told you the story connected with the wound many of times. Every time it brought up memories of heart break and betrayal and he absolutely hated that he had a constant reminder of it left on his skin. Yet to you, you viewed it as a badge a honor. Evidence that he experienced something so intense and in the end survived, and grew stronger from it. You wished he could see it that way too. Slowly you leaned over, pressing your lips to the edges scar, waking Mac in the process.

“Hey” he lazily smiled as he realized you were awake.

“Morning” you grinned back at him, lips finding his chest again.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, knowing he normally was the one to try and get you to wake up in the morning.

“Admiring your scar” you responded, not looking to lie. The flash of emotion across his face instantly showed he didn’t want to think of the imperfection.

“It’s nothing to admire doll” he began to sit up but you quickly pushed him back down. Sighing he allowed you to stop his movements, caving into your touch.

“Every piece of you is perfect Angus, including that scar” you only called Mac Angus when you were being serious. His eyes searched yours for any sense of falseness in your words.

��It just doesn’t carry any good memories” he muttered, not wanting to remind himself of one of the hundred heart breaks he’s ever experienced.

“No scar does Mac, but no matter what the good and the bad will leave an impact on us. You carry this scar to remind yourself how strong you are to move on from this” you told him, laying your head on his chest as you looked up at him.

“I will never understand how you can continue to see the good in everything considering our line of work” he smiled at you, his hand curling into you hair and brushing it out of your face.

“As long as I get to sleep in this bed with you every night, I’ll never stop seeing the good” you said before pressing one last kiss to his scar.

“Alright, give the scar a little less attention and these lips some more” he teased and you giggled as he gripped your arms and pulled you up to meet his face.

“Every part of you is beautiful MacGyver, don’t you forget it” you grinned before pressing your lips to his. His arms wrapped around you quickly, pushing your bare chest to his own. You felt like one being as you settled into the comfort of his arms and lips.

“Helps that I have someone just as beautiful by my side” he told you as you pulled away for air and you smiled softly.

“I love every part of you, I always will”

322 notes · View notes

my-love-of-books · 24 days

Note

croissant - send me a sfw request!

grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader first kiss

a/n: you know, you know, us two we've been back in it with this dude recently 🫠

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | join my 10k celebration!

“So,” uncontrollable giggles bubbled out of you as you beamed over at Bucky beside you on the bench, “I was just wondering if maybe–…”

Not peeling his steely glance away from the ducks swimming through the park’s lake, “what?” he absentmindedly grumbled, “just spit it out, please.”

“Can I, uhm…” your body practically wiggled as you finally asked, “can I kiss you?”

You could have counted on only one hand how many times you’d seen Bucky crack a smile in the time you’d known him. But as your fluttery words found his wind-chilled ears like an ethereal butterfly, you could now officially start using both of your hands.

Twisting his gaze away from the patch of flora and fauna in the middle of the bustling city, Bucky smiled softly back at you for a flash before his fingers, which had been curled behind you and rested on the bench, then curved over the nape of your neck as he brought you close to meet him halfway.

His kiss was slow and soft, like sipping on a steaming mug of hot chocolate on a freezing day, his radiating lips seemed to warm you from within and conjure a soft sigh to seep from your lungs.

“Yes, Y/n,” he gently pulled back, his grasp now cupped against your hot cheek, “of course you can kiss me. You can kiss me all you’d like.”

#Skhdhsbsjabhskabagjabfhalabhhhhhh

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my-love-of-books · 1 month

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need this man

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my-love-of-books · 1 month

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Touch Tank

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)

Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.

He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?"

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

***

#BRO???#I LOVE FRIGGA EVEN MORE NOW 😭😭😭

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