#dead reckoning part one

[whatelsecanwedonow]

HAYLEY ATWELL as GRACE MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – DEAD RECKONING PART ONE (2023) dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[youronebraincell]

I am living for Hayley Atwell's responses to the homophobic trolls in her comments😌😌

[rileykeouhg]

HAYLEY ATWELL as GRACE MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – DEAD RECKONING PART ONE (2023) dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[sluttyhenley]

It's my first time in Venice.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - DEAD RECKONING (2023)

[cruiseperuse]

More wonderful Letterboxd reviews

[huntmavs]

their love language is asking each other if they’re okay

[kyber-crystal]

learning to warm cold hands || ethan hunt

summary: after a particular mission, sunshine isn’t sunshine anymore, and it worries him. (aka a cliche angst to fluff fic with the following tropes: slightly sunshine and super sunshine, who did this to you, etc)

words: ~1.4k

warnings: angst, brief descriptions of violence, ethan being overly concerned for reader, but not much else asides from that 

a/n: first ethan fic (requested by a lovely anon, thank you!!) and second mission impossible fic! btw, this fic is kind of an AU? i don't have a specific timeline for when it happens, so you can squeeze it in wherever :)

“Y/N, status update?”

“Northwest exit, 430 meters. I have one on my tail. But you know I’m Usain Bolt 2.0! I can definitely outrun this doofus, I mean, I bet my mile time is way better than his. I could've gone to the Olympics, for God’s sake. The Olympics! Where are you?”

“Stay there, I’ll come find you.”

“Ethan, wait, you can't just tell me to—“ You don’t even get to finish before a an explosive sound echoes across the narrow alleyway. You make a sharp left turn but find that you’d just hit a dead end. The door was locked. Shit. You only had one bullet left and there was a guy who was definitely at least twice your weight—and over a foot taller, too—coming after you. You wouldn't even have enough time to reload.

“Y/N. Y/N—“

You don’t get to hear the rest of what he’s saying before the static fizzes out and you lose connection.

“Hey there!” You give the beefy man who’s now mere meters away from you a cheerful smile. “Lovely weather today, don’t you think? Too bad it’s going to rain tomorrow. I love the rain but I hate lightning, because I almost got struck a year ago.”

He doesn't look too happy at this, whipping his gun out without a moment’s hesitation. You squeeze your eyes shut and pray as you slide the bullet in and he pins you against the wall by your neck. 

He brings the gun to your head, and your weapon clatters to the ground. You curse under your breath. You can feel your airways constricting and there's a searing pain working its way through you. 

“You're not going anywhere, princess.”

There's a split-second; a microsecond in which he pauses. Very briefly. You don't think, just do—you knee him in the groin, hard, and quickly grab the knife that's sheathed in your boot. 

Saying one last prayer, you plunge the blade in, not even looking to see if you'd aimed right. He falls to the floor, stumbling, and you then lunge forward to disarm him. 

Another deafening gunshot rings out just as Ethan rounds the corner and finds you there, standing over the man’s dead body like the angel of death. A pool of blood surrounds your feet, and he doesn't think he wants to know if that's yours or his. 

“You made it out alive. Good job out there.”

Glancing over at him, you nod, but don't say anything. You toss him the data files without another word, and board the plane. 

“I'm proud of you.”

More strained silence. Huh, weird… he thinks. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

No response. Ethan repeats himself again, “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

You strap yourself into your seat and tilt your head back, digging your nails into your wrist. Anything was better than being awake right now…

“Well, someone's uncharacteristically quiet.”

Still no response. Not even a snarky quip like you'd typically reply with. No nicknames, no bickering, no random fun fact you googled on the way over here. “Did you know that a pig can digest an entire human body, bones and all? That makes me think a little extra every time we pass through the European countryside and see one of them.” 

All he gets is silence from your end, and it starts to worry him. 

That’s when he follows your gaze downwards. You're clutching the left side of your abdomen, trying your best not to make a sound. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes darken. You can feel the pure rage radiating off him. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No…shit…Sherlock…” you croak out. 

“You're hurt.”

No response again. 

“Y/N, what the hell happened out there and who did this to you?”

More silence. 

“Y/N, what did he do to you? How did he hurt you?”

After several more questions and several more failed replies, he forcefully moves your hand aside. Your shirt is stained a deep red and there's a gaping hole much bigger than Ethan wanted to see. 

“You got shot.” He sighs. “Luther, how much longer?”

“Hour and five, but we can get there in 38.”

“Hurry.”

“On it.”

Ilsa brings him a thick roll of bandages. He tries to be as careful as possible as he disinfects and wraps up your torso, but every so often, you wince in pain. 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, just a few more minutes,” Ethan hurriedly apologizes. “Hang in there for me, okay?”

Once he's done, he sits down next to you and laces your fingers together, giving your hand a squeeze. You let out a shuddering sigh and slumped against him. 

He pretends not to notice your watering eyes, or the crescent-shaped marks in your wrist. Or the way your left foot nervously taps out the rhythm to yours and his favorite song. Or the way your tears leave faint red tracks behind as they slip down your cheeks. 

“I'm so sorry,” he repeats over and over again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You don't sleep a wink that night. On any other day in Paris, you'd walk down to the farmer’s market below. You’d pick out Ethan’s favorite fruit and a new beret to have him wear jokingly, and maybe grab a croissant or two. Then you’d drag him along to the Louvre and point out each painting one by one and explain in great detail why you loved them so much. And he’d listen, because he could live purely off the sound of your voice for the rest of his life. He was never one for museums, but you loved them, and because he loved you, he started to love them, too.

But it's dark out, and after what had just happened the other day, you don't feel safe enough to leave the apartment. You tossed and turned for over half an hour before falling asleep, but jolted awake just a few minutes later, shivering violently. There was no way you were going to try and go to sleep again.  

Ethan stirs awake, rubbing his eyes to see a dark figure slipping out the door. 

He's quick to follow you up the staircase and to the rooftop. You're standing there in just a T-shirt (was that his?) and shorts, and it's freezing cold out, but you're sweating and fanning yourself. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around at the sound of his voice. “Ethan…”

“What are you doing up here? I was worried about you.” He makes his way over to you and puts a hand on your shoulder, obvious concern on his face. 

You bit your lip and started digging your nails into your wrist again. 

“Talk to me, Y/N,” he pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong.” 

You shook your head, feeling the skin of your wrist beginning to sting. 

“Y/N, please. I want to help you. But I can’t do that when you won't talk to me, so please…tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m so tired, Ethan,” you finally spoke after a long pause, voice hoarse. “I should’ve—I shouldn’t be here right now, I should be dead because I panicked and I…I almost died. The man, he put the gun to my head and I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. I could’ve sworn to God that the whole ‘thing’ about you seeing your life flash by like a film reel was just a myth but it wasn’t. It scared the shit out of me because I kept seeing the same thing over and over. I thought…”

“What did you see?” he asked, voice gentle. 

“I kept seeing your face. All I saw was your face.” You looked away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with him. Heat spreads across your cheeks. “I know I care about the whole damn team, but you—you’re my future, Ethan.”

He doesn’t say anything in response and instead, leans down to kiss you.

The sudden rush of warmth from his lips being pressed against yours makes you want to forget everything in the world and completely drown in him. This was home, you realized, and this is where I’m supposed to be.

And as the sun rises and spreads a brilliant pale glow over the horizon, Ethan can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was also exactly where he was meant to be. Not fighting bad guys, but rather, standing on the rooftop of a tiny building in the 4th arrondissement with you in his arms and your head against his heart. He thinks he could have a lifetime of this.

“You’re my future, too.”

tags (including those who may be interested! add yourself via this form, if you’d like): @mitchellpete @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline @the-multiverse-of-fandoms @ilsastrenchcoat @joyfullyswimmingface​ 

[multifandominfj]

Literally all she did was take off her jacket and put her hair back…and it sent me into a gay panic 😮‍💨🤤.

[paperrkites]

benji benji benji BENJI BENJI

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

REBECCA FERGUSON as Ilsa Faust in "Mission:Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One" (2023) dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[doomsdayoption]

I swear to god if something happens to Benji in MI:DR2 I'm gonna turn into a tinier, decidedly less trained but just as vengeful version of Ethan Hunt.

[rileykeouhg]

REBECCA FERGUSON & TOM CRUISE as ILSA FAUST & ETHAN HUNT MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – DEAD RECKONING PART ONE (2023) dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[sluttyhenley]

Tom Cruise as Ethan Hunt MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - DEAD RECKONING dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[forumsdackel]

I wanted to do some gifs. Welp, let's have italian lawyer Ethan stills instead. More gifsets and stills on my blog/mostly focusing on TG and M:I. Any gif or still suggestions? Ask Box is open

[scenesandscreens]

Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One (2023)

Director - Christopher McQuarrie, Cinematography - Fraser Taggert

"We live and die in the shadows, for those we hold close, and for those we never meet."

[agentfaust]

ETHAN HUNT + textposts (pt. 2)

pt. 1 / pt. 3 / pt. 4 / pt. 5