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honeymvnt · 1 year ago

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I want it all [18+]

Ethan Hunt x !fem!reader

Words count: 3.4k

A/N: After hearing about the death of every member of his team, Ethan realizes that he’s the only one left alive, or at least this is what he thought before you found him again.

Warnings: Ethan in Mission Impossible 1 is a warning…. Jk, again this is a smut so you know what you’re doing.

This is for my Mav, girl I love you @mqverick 🎀

It was early in the morning when you came back to the apartment where you and the rest of the team settled down to organize the whole mission.

A lot have happened since the beginning of the operation and you couldn't come to think that everyone was dead.

The sequence of events went so fast that you found yourself roaming through the cold streets in the hope that no one was following you, with your thoughts glued on how everything went terribly wrong. The annoying taste of them was leading your mind to think about the only person you knew could've saved himself, Ethan.

It was around four in the morning when you quietly climbed the stairs of the building and the suspense was devouring you and you didn't even want to think about what you had to tell to Kittridge, how to deal with him and what have happened and why you were the only one left alive.

You were so focused on your own reflections, on your fears and preoccupations that you didn't even notice that there were two light bulbs missing from the lamp walls hanging at the end of the hallway.

You approached the room, making sure to be quiet enough not to make any noise but broken glasses echoed through the whole building when you stepped in front of the door.

The glass kept cracking under your feet and you hurried yourself inside to lock the door behind you as fast as you could.

The big room was still, weirdly still like never before. You looked on your left as you caught your reflection on the tall windows that were showing the beautiful Prague in front of them.

Your eyes scanned the area until when you noticed that somebody have been there before you.

"Ethan?" You called him, walking towards the table where his computer was open on some website you've never seen before. You tried to recall where you've seen the logo before but once again your eyes made their way down the book next to it. When you tried to reach for it a hand grabbed your wrist and within a second your back was pressed against the wall and your breath stopped in your throat before your eyes shot open to meet his.

He was alive. You knew it. With a gun pointed right in front of your face and his arm locking you againts the wall as if you were the enemy. He was different from when you've seen him a couple of hours earlier: his eyes were a bit red with such rage that you didn't even recognize yourself. Your heart started to pound against your chest when you noticed that he wasn't letting go of you as you thought he would've.

"Ethan... what are you doing?" Your voice was shaky, your eyes fixated into his while you tried to get rid of his grip but the muscles of his arms tensed even more, his eyes darkened and the gun followed you.

"Turn around" your lips parted, ready to protest but you couldn't believe at what was happening right there. As complicated as the situation was already, you didn't want to upset him even more and so, you did as he ordered you to.

Ethan quickly grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back while the gun was slolwy moved down your back and remained there.

"Who sent you?" His whole body was now against yours, pressing against your back, trying to get an answer out of you, an aswer you didn't even have since that all you did was coming back like the rules say.

"No one..." you replied, trying to understand his position in all of this.

"Bullshit" Ethan said and spun you around to face you again.

"Who the fuck sent you?" You shook your head almost with desperation as you heard the sound of the bullet loading the gun, ready to shoot if needed and you knew you had to make him reason and break whatever defense he was trying to build against you.

"No one, no one sent me" His eyebrows were frowned and his hands were putting even more pressure around your wrists as he dragged you into the bedroom.

"Ethan? I don't understand..." you confessed as he put the gun into his pants and started to move his hands all over you.

"Where have you been?" His voice was against your neck and his hands were having no mercy on your body as they moved from your legs, up to your stomach and under your breasts, looking for something.

"Ethan stop this..." you tried to move away but he didn't let you.

He did not care how far this was going and besides how scared you were and how in disbelief you were about the way he was acting with you, you found it almost arousing.

"Where have you been mm?" He asked you again, turning your body around so you were facing him once again. He held you in place, letting his intense gaze devour you whole, and waited for the answer as if everything in the world depended on it.

"I... I was- looking for you" you said trying to make him reason but he didn't seem open to that and held you with both of his big hands and pinned you down on the bed.

You were almost in tears but the excitement that you were still trying to deny from yourself was even worse. How could you even find something like this attractive? Yet, there you were, almost begging for more but hiding it with tears of fake terror.

"You were looking for me" he said quickly, while his hands moved down your waist and squeezed your hips.

You unconsciously let out a whimper when he did that and his eyes immedialtly looked up towards yours. He tilted his head and a smirk made the corner of his lips curl like you've never seen before. All of this was new to you and you were still trying to process the previous hours you've spent roaming through the streets, hoping to find him alive, safe.

"You were looking for me?" Ethan asked while his hands forcefully spread your legs in front of him and his body was once again pressed against yours.

He was staring down at you, studying every single emotion you were letting out, the slightest noises you were making because of him and you haven't even noticed how hot you felt when he hovered above you in such way.

You swallowed hard and your lips parted to speak, to at least try to ptotest but as humiliating as it was right now, you wanted it, you wanted it real badly and he knew it.

Maybe he knew it all along, before all of this mess, before the whole mission. Maybe he wanted you for so long that the shock of losing you made him so scared and mad that he needed to be like this to have you.

Or maybe he knew something that you didn't and it was hard for him to trust you.

"Not speaking again?" Ethan grabbed your cheeks with a hand and forced you to stare at him "who sent you?" He asked once again but you gave him no answer.

He let go of your face and moved his hands roughly down on you again until when he found the end of your sweater and took it off of your body.

He looked at you and devoured you with those eyes of his as you noticed how his breathing fastened and his hands were desperately trying to touch all of you.

"You like this..." he said frowning when his attention focused on the way your body was responding.

He wasn't happy about it, obviously because he knew there was something wrong going on but you were not talking, you were simply not giving him what he wanted from you.

Ethan held your chin and spoke again with that tone that was making you dripping wet "you like being treated like this" his jaw clenched and your lips parted looking at his.

His hand slowly moved up your cheek and your eyes were not leaving his, not even for a second before he crashed his lips on yours. Never in your life you had such a kiss and only god knows for how long you've been waiting to be kissed by him like that.

He was so fast that without even realizing his hands were holding your thighs around his waist and his lips were roughly kissing all of your body.

You weren't able to form a single sentence nor a single thought besides embracing what he was doing to you.

When his hands reached for your trousers he quickly pulled them down your legs, until your ankles before tossing them away.

His mouth was consuming you in the most lustful way a human can even imagine and you couldn't help yourself but moan his name, bite your lips and wrap your legs around him even tighter.

You both didn't know how desperate you were for each other until now. You didn't know what the hell was going on in this room and how many people were looking for the both of you by now and you didn't care about it, just like you didn't care about how wrong this was, considering the circumstances.

He kissed your lips over and over again, forcing his tongue into your mouth and you weren't hesitanting to let him have you.

"I saw you dying" he said panting, between a kiss and another while your hands moved down his, still clothed, chest.

"It doesn't matter" you kissed him back and took off his shirt before he held your waist and pulled you even closer to his body.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and with a swift move you were now on top of him with one of his arms was holding you in place.

"It does matter..." he said after you, looking up at you waiting for an answer but instead, you moved on his lap and spread your legs while your hands undid the buckle of his belt.

"It does..." he continued but a moan escaped from his lips when you kissed his lips again.

"Does it?" You asked confidently now, but when his hands run up your back and his mouth moved down your neck, until your chest, you lost it.

He felt the tension in your muscles and smirked against your skin.

"Yeah...it does" he whispered and his fingers moved along your sides, making their way down your thighs as you shivered and arched you back towards him. You bit your lips at the feeling and your eyes fell shut when he reached the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulled them down your thighs.

The anticipation was killing you, making your lungs suffer from the heavy breathing and your mouth wet at the thought of kissing him again. You didn't even want to confess how sensitive you already were just because of all that happened, how quickly it was happening and how insanely attractive he was.

When his cold fingers touched you right where you were needing him the most, without even a warning, your hands suddenly tightened on his shoulders and the moan that you let out made him bite his lips to kill his own.

He spread your wetness all over your folds and you tried your best not to let out a sound , just to prove him that you could've resisted if you really wanted to.

Ethan was watching you, your every expression of pleasure he was causing you, your every movement and sound and you knew he wanted you more, he needed more.

"Let me hear you" he demanded, pinning you down on the bed again, making a moan escape from your lips while his his fingers started to stretch you out and his eyes were locked into yours.

"Fuck-" you said before taking a deep and quick breath

"Yes just like that" he smirked down at you and started to kiss your lips, going lower and lower.

You were struggling beneath him but it was the kind of struggle that turned him on, the kind of effort he liked from you and he was just as good as you imagined at making you sweat for it. Yes you've been imagining this all along and you were craving for it. You were dying to feel all of this, to feel him and the more you thought about how many fantasies you had with him the more you felt turned on by them.

His hands were caressing your skin, gripping on it to make sure to leave a mark afterwards so you had no other choice than stick with him.

"Ethan-" you gasped when he started to slide his fingers in and out of you, curling them to hit the right spot and make your eyes roll back. Your hips started to move along with his pace until when you didn't even realize that he had stopped moving and you were just riding them yourself.

He watched you with amusement and excitement, feeling his cock throb just at the thought of how tightly you were gripping his fingers inside of you and how wet you were getting after each pump of them.

His hand moved down to remove his boxers and free himself from the struggle.

You kept rolling your hips forward before he wrapped his huge arm around your waist and quickly switched position so you were on top of him again.

He looked up at you with eyes full of thrist for you and all you did was wrapping your arms around his neck and kiss him, bringing your body even closer to his so your chest was pressed against his.

Your hands slowly moved down his torso before you glanced down at him and he captured your lips in his again.

You adjusted yourself on his lap, biting your lips even harder than before, feeling his hard cock right against your stomach.

"Ride it" he said looking up at you and only then you noticed how bright they were, how much desperation he was holding back since the first moment he met you. He would've begged you if needed but as excited and ready as you were, you preferred to save it for another occasion.

You slowly stood up from him and placed both of your hands on his shoulders while his moved up your back, to bring you closer. He gently helped you down on his cock as you bit your lips to kill another desperate moan, trying to let your mind ignore how big he was and just take it as deeper as you could.

"fuck-" he groaned holding your hips in place, breathing heavily against your skin as you whined at how well he was stretching you out, feeling it throb in anticipation when your wet walls started to grip onto him for dear life.

The pleasure was taking over you as your mind was taken away by his images scrolling right in front of your closed eyes before you suddenly felt his hand moving up your stomach to cup one of your breasts and squeeze it lightly.

"Ethan-" you moaned feeling how hot his skin was against yours and how his lips parted when you looked back at him. Your movements became sloppier when he kissed your mouth and moved down to nibble on the skin of your chest while his hand slowly made its way up to the back of your neck.

"C'mon babe" Ethan said breathless as he noticed how much you were struggling to take it but you were so close to the edge, so close to let it go but holding back to make it last longer.

"I can't-" you cried out as your head fell backwards and your nails dug into his skin before he held you down on the bed once again.

He was still inside of you but he was staring at you, at how beautiful you looked right beneath him, with your cheeks changing shades of pink and your long dark lashes touching the top of your eyes.

"You're so... beautiful" he whispered, bending down to kiss your cheek but moving down your neck to kiss you as if he knew this would've been the first and last time you were doing this.

Your eyes fell shut and all you felt was your body melting within his, the hotness of his skin and the tension in his muscles as he held himself right above you.

"Please Ethan..." you whispered as your hands moved down his arms and his eyes returned to yours and sparkled at your words.

You were trying to read him, to understand what was going on through his mind while he was looking at you like this, if he was even aware of what was going on but his lips were too tempting and you found yourself putting your thoughts aside and kissing him before he started to move back and forth.

"Please?" Ethan asked against your lips as he felt how your grip tightened around his arms and you nodded in response, keeping your eyes closed to savor the moment.

His thrusts were slow and torturous, making yourself wetter and his movements smoother inside you.

“Faster” you moaned and he didn’t hesitate to give you what you asked for.

Ethan sped up his pace, holding you down and hitting the same spot repeatedly to make you arch your back for and more, making your eyes wet with tears and your body burn beneath his.

One of his hands was holding your thigh around him and the other was still holding you in pace as yours were tightening even more around the skin of his arms.

Your chest was rising and falling quickly and the noises he was making were only driving you insane and dangerously close to your break point.

“I wanted you for so long” Ethan said closer to your ear before kissing your jaw and moving down your neck.

His words filled your heart, wrapped around it and squeezed it between your lungs as you felt his love embracing you. You gave in even more.

Your walls clenching over and over again around him, making Ethan’s eyes fall shut and his grasp on you even tighter.

“Me too…” you confessed and watched him move above you as if it was the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your life and it really was.

You felt the knot in your stomach growing uncontrollably as he keep sliding in and out of you, kissing your lips, trying to be as quiet as possible but it was impossible.

“I’m- going to…” you managed to say between a gasp and another but Ethan kissed you and spoke up again before you could.

“Let go for me” the way he made you shiver just with those words was all you needed to reach the peak.

Your lips parted again and tears steamed down your cheeks before he buried his face in the crook of neck and moaned your name.

“Oh god-“ Your walls clenched painfully as you came all over him and he emptied himself inside of you, groaning against your skin and breathing heavily as pleasure washed over the two of you.

He didn’t move away yet and his eyes slowly met yours once again and you really couldn’t help yourself anymore but smile at how they sparkled at you.

Ethan smiled back at you and hugged you as tight as he could.

All the tension that the night had built, all the losses that you both went through, the fear you experienced when you knew everyone didn’t survive and the joy that hit you when you saw that he was still alive, waiting for you with terror in his eyes as if you were a ghost coming back to take him with you or even an enemy… it was all gone.

You held him with all the strength left in your body and his hand stroked your hair, his lips trailed kissed down your neck as he spoke to you.

“I thought I’d lost you” you smiled at his words and tears fell down your cheeks once again.

“You will never lose me” you met his eyes as you cleft your heart talk to him “never”.

He smiled back at you and kissed your whole face, making sure not to leave any spot unkissed before he laid down with you and held you close to him, to make sure nothing could’ve separated the two of you.

“Never”

#ethan hunt x reader #mission impossible #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise imagine #Ethan hunt image #Ethan hunt smut #mission impossible 1 #Tom cruise smut #fan fiction

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mitchellpete · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER 2023

My first Kinktober and first ever writing challenge! (Wish me luck..) But I’m super excited to see you guys request! Kinks from this list, which was super intimidating (lol). First time I realize English not being my first language is kind of a nuisance because some of those I would have absolutely no clue how to write.. BUT ALAS. I picked these out and hope that they’re fun. Also hope you guys don’t mind that I filled one of them out already but I figured since I’m already writing it for an old request..

Will be updating this as slots get filled, so request away!

Characters I write for are here (plus Iceman who I kind of want to start writing for), but I’m very flexible so if you want to ask about any other characters, please do!

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

Day 1 - Overstimulation

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 2 - Public

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 3 - 69

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 4 - Thigh riding

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 5 - Spanking

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 6 - Cockwarming

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 7 - Blindfold

↳ Vincent | Collateral

Day 8 - Size

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 9 - Praise

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 10 - Handjob

↳ Cole Trickle | Days of Thunder

Day 11 - Cunnilungus

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 12 - Voyeurism

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky & Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 13 - Hate sex

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 14 - Virginity

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 15 - Dirty talk

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 16 - Begging

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 17 - Edging

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 18 - Mirror sex

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 19 - Orgasm denial

↳ Vincent | Collateral

Day 20 - Face sitting

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 21 - Deepthroating

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 22 - Creampie

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 23 - Bath/shower

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 24 - Bondage

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 25 - Sex toys

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 26 - Brat taming

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 27 - Fingering

↳ Jerry Maguire

Day 28 - Uniform

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 29 - Table sex

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 30 - Squirting

↳ Brian Flanagan | Cocktail

Day 31 - Biting

↳ Lestat de Lioncourt | Interview with the Vampire

#pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick x you #top gun maverick fanfic #pete maverick mitchell x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tom cruise x reader #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader #ethan hunt x reader #kinktober 2023

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kaffiko · 1 year ago

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a risky game

pairing - tom cruise x fem!reader summary - after your friend on set tells you she likes tom, you realise that they can't happen, because you like tom, and you know you need to confess your feelings before it's too late. warnings - a dash of angst, but mostly just fluff word count - 2.1k

you recalled the first time you'd met tom cruise. he was so incredibly handsome. his large, deep, green eyes and his shiny brunette hair... he was majestic. not only was he dazzling, but tom was driven and talented. when he introduced himself, shaking your hand, his voice was deep and charismatic.

although you had worked with many huge movie stars throughout your career, none of them came close to the way tom made you feel. he wanted you to be comfortable, like you were made to be a part of the cast. it was one of his ideas to make the movie a more authentic experience. you supposed that was why you never acted on your feelings. he was determined, and focused on his career. it seemed as if tom could never be interested in a relationship with someone on set.

as the filming continued, you kept your feelings towards tom bottled up inside you. you talked to him completely out of professionalism. of course, you didn't want to be awkward around him, so you told him stories of your family, your career, and he did the same. you learned so many amazing things about him, his family, how he raised up into the industry. the only thing that did was make you want him more. but you knew, attraction was a risky game.

tom was kind to everyone, though he had a special spot for you. he'd had many lead roles with various actresses, who were all beautiful and charming, but they weren't even close to being in the same vicinity as you. he knew you were oblivious to it, but you were on his mind twenty-four-seven, no one else. the first day tom laid eyes on you, shook your hand, saw your beautiful smile, he knew he had fallen for you. he was entranced by your gorgeous y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair, your slight pink cheeks, everything. to him, everything about you was flawless.

as much as tom wanted you, he knew he could never have you. he was a couple years older than you, and so immensely famous that everyone he'd ever been with was scared of the news circulating them. tom didn't ever want that to happen to you.

consequently, the two of you kept your feelings for each other to yourselves. exchanging glances, smiles, and small talk was all you could ever do.

now, you find yourself in tom's arms. his shirt is off, with you still fully clothed, though both your lips were puffy and pink from the previous kiss, make-out, whatever you want to call it, scene. it was heavenly. kissing tom was exactly how you envisioned it, like having a taste of something delicious, but you had to share it with your sibling. his lips were soft on yours, but the kiss was rough. your hands ran through his fluffy hair, melting completely into him. meanwhile, tom's left hand was placed firmly on your waist, while his right was moving up and down your body. you swore you heard him groan into your mouth at one point.

tom, himself, the director, and the producers loved the scene, but tom loved it on a whole other level, and in a completely different way. having your lips on his felt like a dream that he wanted to last forever. after that scene, tom loved you even more, if that was even possible.

your makeup artist, hanna, would often give you a lecture on how you should confess to tom. she knew everything about everyone, including how the two of you were apparently 'head over heels' for one another. hanna was the same makeup artist for almost everyone, since they wanted to spend more money on sets instead of makeup, so she was on top of all the gossip. half the time, you were still part asleep, so you paid no attention. that is, until she mentioned someone else was soon going to shoot her shot.

"i'm sorry, what?!" you semi-yelled, fully aware there were other actors still getting ready. your makeup artist nodded at you.

"yep. little miss lindsay turner is going to go for your man! you can't let that happen, can you?" hanna grinned. god, she was trying to get to you, and it was working.

you and lindsay certainly weren't close friends, but she was the only person you talked to at lunch besides tom. despite all the chatter that was going around, you never would have imagined lindsay actually liking tom. sometimes, she would get a little touchy, holding onto his arm as she giggled, and although you thought it was a little weird at first, you knew it was all platonic. at least, that's what you thought you knew.

it made you nervous. for the first time in your life, after a long time, you felt fear, and all the happy thoughts from the past few days had disintegrated into thin air. lindsay was undeniably beautiful. everyone admired her luscious red hair - they thought she was prettiest red head they'd seen in their entire lives. it hurt to say that you did, sort of, agree. tom could look even better with a girl like lindsay, why would he ever choose you?

lindsay and tom also had a lot in common, she was delighted to work with someone who was just as motivated as she was. she spoke with such confidence in her voice that it washed away all that was in yours. you felt invisible whenever lindsay was in the same room as you.

you sighed, looking at hanna hopelessly, "what do i do, hanna?"

she smiled, "well, i'm gonna make you look extra good today, even though you already look perfect on a daily basis. luckily for you, you have one of those date scenes with tom, so you need to look glammed up anyway. getting him to fall for you, not like he hasn't already," she winked, "is all about your mentality. you need to hint that you are thinking about tom in the scene, and not his character."

hanna was right. today, had, yet another, scene where you needed to kiss tom. she continued, "you need to make him love you, no one gives a damn about professionalism and his character, and what not." she finished your makeup, which was stunning, and handed you your costume. by the time she was done with the finishing touches, even you admitted you looked good.

"can we get y/n on in two minutes?" a voice from outside called.

"alright, y/n, go get him girl." hanna breathed out, patting your shoulders. you smiled at her quickly before leaving the room.

when tom saw you, his jaw quite literally dropped. he always found you stunning, but today, you were a different kind of stunning. you approached him, smiling warmly. "hey," you said.

his eyes scanned you quickly. you felt your cheeks heat up. was tom cruise really checking you out? "wow," tom chuckled, breathlessly, "you look... great."

you laughed lightly, stunned by his shocked expression, "thank you. you do too."

tom was dressed in a crisp, white dress shirt, paired with black slacks. his outfit matched with your sparkling, white dress and black heels. the scene was meant to be at a fancy restaurant, where tom's character took yours out on a date, and near the end, the two of you would share a passionate kiss. you couldn't help but smirk as lindsay discreetly gritted her teeth.

there were only a few minutes left before the shooting of the scene started, though that didn't stop lindsay from pulling you aside just as you were about to walk into the room. "hey, y/n," lindsay whispered, "i need to tell you something."

you looked at her, about ninety percent sure of what she was going to say next. "you have to promise you won't tell anyone though," she added.

you placed a hand on her shoulder. that was one of the many things lindsay hated about you. you were so, so kind, it made her feel guilty of how much she despised you. occasionally, she would think to herself, 'it's just a man', but it really wasn't just a man. it was tom cruise. lindsay was extremely envious of you. while you didn't know it, every single member of the cast was wrapped around your finger, especially tom. lindsay knew there was no way of competing against you. so, in order to score tom, she thought she had to do what she had originally been dreading.

"i promise. your secret's safe with me." you whispered back.

lindsay took a deep breath, then sighed it out, "i like tom." the words were like bullets, piercing your flesh, and racing straight through. you saw it coming, yet here you are, speechless. just when everything was going well for you, a pretty girl like lindsay had to ruin it.

"i-" you stuttered, struggling to even find words, "tom's great. he's an amazing and talented guy, you should totally shoot your shot."

lindsay beamed at your words, thrilled you didn't yell at her. "that's exactly what i was thinking!" she squealed, "i was going to tell him today, but i wanted your approval first. you know, girl best friends never let another girl steal them."

such a backhanded statement. you could feel the glare she gave you from a mile away. 'approval', 'girl best friend', 'steal'. you decided that if she said another word, you would hire a hitman to crawl into her trailer and stab her.

to save yourself trouble, you cut the conversation short, "you're absolutely right. you need to tell him, he actually really likes you. he thinks you're beautiful." you purposely used the same tone of voice as her and dragged out the 'beautiful'. "i need to go now. good luck, lindsay!"

lindsay watched as you walked down the hall, your glossy hair swishing each step you took. she was relieved she didn't need to say anything more.

she felt her hope fade each time she conversed with you, and this time, it might have just all gone away.

your mouth curved into a small smile just as tom placed his hand on top of yours. the cameras were solely on the two of you. tom's eyes were staring directly into your own, his gaze safe and lustful. "you're beautiful." he said, still looking attentively at you. you stayed silent, as mentioned in the script, but you continued smiling.

tom leaned in, just slightly. you did the same a couple seconds later, and soon, the two of you were almost touching. you felt his warm breath graze against your lips. tom leaned in a little more, placing one small kiss, then pulling away. you loved it. so much, that you wanted more. you leaned in again. this time, the kiss was different. it was as if you found the delicious delicacy again, and needed to selfishly devour the whole thing.

the director yelled cut, and the two of you pulled apart. after that kiss, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

you couldn't keep looking at tom every day and pretend you didn't feel more than friendship. you couldn't talk to tom, and hide away everything you wanted to tell him. attraction was a risky game, but it was one you were willing to play.

"tom." he was still sitting across from you. his head was bowed down to fix his shirt, but he looked up at the sound of your voice.

"i love you." you managed to say through shaky breaths.

tom smiled, shaking his head, "y/n, the camera isn't rolling anymore."

"no," you stopped tom, "i'm serious. let me say it again. i love you."

he was frozen. the most still you'd ever seen anyone be. tom couldn't believe the words that had just come out of your mouth. all these moments, where he could've said something, and didn't, were suddenly all a waste of time. if only he had known earlier, he could've stopped himself from this misery of hiding his, clearly obvious, feelings.

"i totally understand if you don't feel the same, i mean, you're a huge movie-" you were immediately cut off by tom's lips crashing onto yours. you instantly kissed back. you were finally kissing tom cruise, off camera. it was complete bliss.

"i love you too." tom said, bringing your hand up and placing small kisses on your knuckles.

on the side, lindsay was only slightly angry. she was definitely jealous, but she had realised just how amazing you were for tom. he looked at you with such love in his eyes, she came to the conclusion that he would never look at anyone else the same.

you were too happy to notice lindsay, though you would've been glad to know she wasn't fuming.

you were focused entirely on tom, and he was focused entirely on you. attraction was a risky game, and it was one you had won.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise imagine #pete maverick mitchell x reader #ethan hunt x reader

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helloitstsyu · 1 year ago

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i got you | Tom Cruise

My masterlist

Fluff, kind of an angst too, i guess. Requested by @grantaires-waistcoat I'm so sorry this takes so long. Hope you like it🤍

Tom Cruise x young!costar!reader

Summary : Set to film a stunt, you had a panic attack, and Tom helps you to get through it.

Warning : this might be triggering for some, so beware. panic!attack, swear words.

BUM. BUM. BUM.

"Y/N?... Y/N!" Stella keeps banging the door.

The banging is on the door yet you feel it thumping on your heart. You feel your breath is short and heavy. Your head spinning, sweats dripping on your temples as your chest heaves. Cold water running on your terribly shaking hand, trying to calm yourself, you keep repeating to your reflection on the small mirror.

"It's nothing. You can do this. You've prepared. You can do this."

You look at yourself in the mirror. Your face is pale. You're completely terrified. You're about to hang yourself off a cliff. Yes, you've rehearse a lot. But this is no Rockreaction in Los Angeles. There's no mattress at the bottom. There's no safety net going to catch you if you fall. This is rocky mountainside in Utah. The only thing that'll determine your life and death is the harness that'll be attached on you. One snap of the line, you're gone.

"Arrghh!" You grunt all frustratingly to yourself. "The fuck is wrong with you. Why do i even agreed to this!"

You're a newcomer. You've only done a couple of family drama for some TV station and a thriller movie for a streaming site. There's a couple of stunt for the thriller, but no stunt like Mission Impossible. This is a damn blockbuster, well produced franchise. And the fact that you're here locking yourself inside of a bathroom, being a chicken, while everyone else is ready to shoot the scene is just enhancing your stress for the moment.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing in there?! Come on, we don't get all day!" Stella, the assistant director keeps banging on your door.

"Coming!" You shout.

Wiping your sweaty forehead, you hope the cold water could cover the spook on your face.

Coming out of the bathroom, you're surprised to find your leading man and boss is on the front of the door. Tom looks at you deeply, reading your face.

"You okay, kid?" Tom asks.

You nod, hiding your nerve all that you can. Going outside of the trailer. Stella brought you to the edge of the cliff, where's the stunt team will prepare you with the safety harness and all. Looking all around you the crew is all busy and occupied with their own stuff. Everyone seems to move so fast but yet also somehow so slow.

Tom comes to you, with a wide grin on his face, "Ready to be a spiderman, kid?" He asks with both of his hands on his hips.

You barely hear what he said, high-pitched sound is ringing in your ear covering what he has to say. Despite the breezy wind blowing around, you feel like you couldn't get an air to your lungs. Eyeing the edge of the cliff, the ground below is not even to your eye reach. You can feel your heartbeating right to your head.

"Kid... you're here?... you okay?" Tom starts to notice you're not doing alright.

Slowly, your eyes are back to Tom's. He worries. "Y/N?" He steps closer to you. And there you finally breaks, in a beat, your legs falls limp as if they didn't work. You fall but Tom's quick to catch you before the impact. You're panting hard, your chest burns. Tears blocking your eyesight. High-pitched sound ringing loudly in your ear, completely blocking everything else. All you see is so bright. The sun behind Tom's face is so bright like it pierces your eyes.

"Y/N... Y/N... look at me, look at me." Tom holds you close.

"I'm right here. It's okay, it's going to be okay.. I'm right here." You hold onto his hand, grasping them in between your two much smaller palm.

"Breathe, come on, breathe with me, kid." Tom calmly tells you, like he knows exactly what to do to help you. He takes your hand and put it to your chest. The other one he brings to his chest. "Breathe.. come on, slowly..."

You can feel your heart pounding in your hand. Yours beat like a marching band while his is set in a calm pace, like a rhythm. You follow his instructions, taking a deep breath slowly, one at a time. Tom nods. "There you go, that's my girl. Come on, one more time," he encourages.

And so you do as he tells, following his lead, you take a deep inhale and slowly exhaling. Once he manage to get you calmer, he takes you back inside the trailer.

Setting you to sit on the couch, he kneels in front of you.

When the panic attack is gone, now you feel the burning tears making its way to flood out. One look of those soft emerald eyes and you can't bear the guilt to get the best of you.

"I--- " you struggle to say it out loud. I'm sorry, is what you want to say. But without you have to say it, Tom knows. Tom understands. More than anyone else, he understands.

"It's okay.." Tom holds your hand.

Though the watergate has opened. Tom quickly wipes your tears away. "It's okay, you don't have to do it. It's alright."

What he said only makes it worse. You're sobbing right in front of the man, tears running like a waterfall. "I'm sorry.. i can't– i can't do it.." you cry. "I don't know what's wrong with me,"

"Oh, sweetheart," Tom sits next to you and pulls you to his chest. He wraps his hand protectively around you. "Nothing is wrong with you. You don't have to be sorry. It's okay, you don't have to do it."

Tom strokes your hair. Caressing you ever so gently, comforting you in the best way possible.

"It's okay... you'll be okay... I got you, babygirl," he whispers.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise smut #tom cruise x female reader #pete mitchell x reader #tom cruise fic #top gun maverick #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt #ethan hunt fic #daddy x reader

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kyber-crystal · 1 year ago

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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

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #ethan hunt #tom cruise #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x you #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt imagine #mission impossible fanfic #mission impossible: rogue nation #mission impossible: fallout #mission impossible: dead reckoning #dead reckoning part one

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hollybell51 · 1 year ago

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If I don't have you

Navigation

Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip.

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?”

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened.

“That was fucking insane!” you burst.

“Are you ok?”

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you.

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers.

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back.

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.”

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.”

“A bullet graze!”

“It’s fine.”

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.”

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !”

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics.

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes.

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him.

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah.”

Another silence, though less tense.

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest.

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso.

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted.

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–”

“No, (Y/N)–”

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall.

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast.

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled.

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?”

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own.

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–”

No one’s coming.

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!”

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear.

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him – were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him.

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should.

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards.

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed.

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle.

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back.

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath.

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you.

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure.

“(Y/N).”

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive.

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…”

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.”

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know.

“For yelling at me?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–”

“All that matters. You said.”

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle.

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.”

The frown deepened. “Hm?”

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real.

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely.

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.”

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek.

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up.

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore.

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.”

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his.

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too.

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition.

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt.

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything.

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt.

“Huh?”

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?”

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine.

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone.

“Yeah.”

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?”

Again, “Yeah.”

You smiled. “What about me?”

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.”

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it.

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity.

“What else?” you asked.

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.”

Oh. Oh.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys.

“Can–”

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair.

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.”

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.”

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit.

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders.

“Hm?”

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.”

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?”

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face.

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises.

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–”

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad.

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–”

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders.

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again.

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail.

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him.

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification.

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?”

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.”

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Say it again.”

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?”

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again.

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap.

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand.

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.”

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?”

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?”

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.”

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–”

“Insane?”

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?”

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.”

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again.

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?”

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other.

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.”

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined.

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece.

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.”

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.”

“Hm?”

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?”

“(Y/N)–”

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–”

“In me.”

“You sure?”

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–”

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter.

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress.

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit.

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned.

“What?” he asked.

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything.

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?”

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?”

He nodded.

“I still want to check them.”

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?”

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.”

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.”

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?”

“Yeah.”

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.”

“Guess I’m just that special.”

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

#ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #mission impossible #shameless smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #tom cruise

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justabigassnerd · 1 year ago

Text

Newest Team Member

Pairing - Ethan Hunt x daughter!reader

Word count - 5,320

Warnings - violence (guns), death, child endangerment (not on Ethan's part), allusions to sex, swearing, angst

Summary - a one night stand changes Ethan's entire life

A/N - hey y'all it's time for another part of the Lil' Hunt universe!! I'm sorry it's taking me so long to churn out fics I swear I am trying. since this is the first fic to come chronologically in the universe despite it being my second Lil' Hunt fic, I will be making sure the masterlist (when it's posted) will be in chronological order although they can work as standalones. anyways I'll stop rambling now, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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Ethan often found that he never knew what to do with himself in between missions. His life was entirely taken over by the IMF so being in between missions was a horrible state of limbo for him. He itched to be handed a message detailing his next mission and to be told it would mean he had to get to work almost instantly. With nothing to do but sit in a safe house and twiddle his thumbs until he gets his next mission, Ethan decides to go for a walk around the city he’s in. He wanders the streets until he stumbles across a bar. It wasn’t anything flashy, but he figured he earnt himself a beer or two.

As he walks in the bar he’s greeted by the overwhelming stench of beer and sweat. He skillfully manoeuvres himself through the sea of patrons to get to the bar and order a drink for himself. As he’s handed a beer bottle, he notices a woman sitting a couple of seats away from him and when he sees the forlorn expression on her face, he decides to cross to her.

“Is this seat taken?” Ethan asks, pointing to the empty seat beside the woman as she looks up at him, eyes slightly wide from the shock of Ethan sneaking up on her but she soon relaxes.

“Knock yourself out.” The woman says, gesturing to the seat and turning back to the bar as Ethan seats himself alongside her, placing his beer in front of him.

“I know I’m a complete stranger, but I noticed you looked a bit down. Is everything okay?” Ethan asks, loud enough to be heard over the music and commotion, but quiet enough for the words to stay in between the two of them. She stays silent for a moment before deciding to speak.

“Just an argument with a friend. Nothing can be done now.” She says with a shrug, smiling sadly before lifting her cocktail to her lips and taking a sip.

“Anything I could do to help?” Ethan then asks, always driven to help people as best he can.

“You could tell me your name.” The woman says with a chuckle, looking over at Ethan who lets out a small laugh himself at the realisation that they had in fact not exchanged names.

“I’m Joe. What’s your name?” The fake name comes quickly to Ethan, knowing it’s safer for both her and him to use a fake name in case anyone who may be a danger sees them together. The woman purses her lips slightly, looking him up and down before letting out a laugh.

“Sorry, you don’t look like much of a Joe. Your parents should’ve thought twice about that name. I’m Abby.” She says, introducing herself after having a laugh about Ethan’s fake name. She then holds her hand out for Ethan to shake which he does with a grin.

The pair continue to have drinks while discussing everything and nothing at the same time. Ethan was just grateful that for most of the questions she asked about him, he had preset lies ready to tell her so she wouldn’t find out about the real-life he led. Before they knew it, they heard last orders being called and Ethan suddenly realised how long he’d been at the bar for. But with the handful of beers he had drank he found himself too tipsy to care.

“So… Joe, your place or mine?”

Ethan woke up the next morning alone in a hotel room. He furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about how he got there in the first place, his memory fuzzy from the night before. He sits up slowly, blinking to adjust to his surroundings as he glances around, immediately catching sight of his clothes strewn all over the floor. When he realises what happened his eyes widen in horror, and he hurriedly gets changed before searching for any kind of note Abby could have left for him since she was nowhere to be found. As he prepares to leave the room, memories flash in his mind of coming back here with Abby and ending up in bed with her. After Ethan has changed and determined that Abby is gone with very little chance of returning, he exits the hotel, retreating to the safe house quickly vowing to not do something like that again.

Ethan would not see Abby again until almost ten months later.

Ethan was placed on a team tracking down a group that was rapidly becoming a bigger threat. When they first emerged, the IMF thought very little of them and figured local police would track them down and stop them before they got any bigger and their faith in that assumption was proven when they disappeared before reappearing after nearly ten months. Ethan and his team had very little trouble in tracking down the group’s main operating warehouse and when they entered the building, they were only moderately surprised to see a group of henchmen with guns staring them down. Ethan and his team were of course very quick to pull out their own guns and get locked in a standoff. Every person itching to pull the trigger but not wanting to initiate a gunfight in fear of injury and death. A couple of minutes pass and all of a sudden, a door is thrown open and a woman marches in. A woman Ethan recognises.

Abby storms in, glancing around at her men before noticing the team opposite her and a sadistic smirk comes to her face when she recognises Ethan.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Joe… or should I say, Ethan Hunt?” Abby says, pacing gleefully before she approaches one of her henchmen, whispering in his ear and sending him off while Ethan’s eyes widen slightly at the fact, she knew his name.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised Hunt. I knew who you were the moment I saw you in that bar. You can’t be one of the IMF’s top agents and expect us to not know who you are. You caused us a lot of problems Hunt.” Abby says, a ferocity covering her face that Ethan had never expected to come from her. Ethan struggled to process her words, surprised he never figured out she knew who he was or that she was working for the group that he had been tracking.

“So you guys hid because I met you? You were that scared of me that you hid away for almost ten months?” Ethan asks, grip tightening on his gun as he stares Abby down who merely laughs at his words.

“We’re not scared of you. You have one hell of an ego to think that. No, in fact, it’s hard to run a business like this when you’re pregnant.” As if it was cued, the henchman who had been sent out of the room mere minutes ago emerged with a baby in hand. Abby takes the baby and holds them with a look of disgust.

“You know I never wanted kids. But when a one-night stand like you knocked me up. I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to get you off our damn backs.” Abby says and Ethan’s eyes widen at her words, lowering his gun slightly to study the baby in her arms.

“Oh yes, Ethan. This brat is yours. We ran a DNA test and everything the moment she was born.” Abby says, glee overtaking her features as Ethan lowers the gun completely, shocked at the revelation.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” One of his teammates, Jamie, hisses as he notices Ethan lowering his gun.

“Hunt, get it together she’s bullshitting you.” Elsie says harshly, glaring over at Ethan who doesn’t lift his gun, still in shock with his mind swimming with a thousand thoughts.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Daniel mutters, pulling the trigger on his gun and the bullet hits one of the henchmen in his heart. That action caused a gunfight between the two groups. Ethan and his team dove behind cover while the henchmen did the same. Ethan glared over at his teammates who simply shrugged and continued to fire back at the enemy. Taking a quick peek over the box he had hidden himself behind, Ethan was shocked to see that Abby had run off and that the baby was on the floor in the middle of this gunfight. The second Ethan heard the cries of his baby girl it was like something snapped inside him. He steadied his hands and took out the remaining henchmen like he was doing nothing more than playing catch in the park.

“Go and check the rest of the building!” Ethan yells over to the team, already sprinting forward to grab the baby girl who is still sobbing.

The second you were scooped up into Ethan’s arms you began to settle down, tears still in your eyes but Ethan began to wipe them away carefully, holding you closer to his chest as his team thundered down the halls in search of other members of the group.

“I got you, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Ethan whispers soothingly to you as he begins to bounce you lightly in his arms moving away from the bodies that littered the floor and instead moving towards the entrance, continuing to bounce you gently as he waits for his team. He hears no gunshots, and no evidence of anyone else in the building, giving away to him that those of the group that were in the building when the fight happened, had run for their lives.

“Anyone who was here ran for it. This place is deserted. Even that girlfriend of yours ditched.” Jamie says, taunting slightly as Ethan’s jaw clenched.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Ethan says lowly, glaring at Jamie who shrugs unapologetically.

“Well, you knocked her up.” Daniel accuses, pointing at you snuggled in Ethan’s arms making him hold you slightly tighter.

“I don’t think she’s yours. They’re lying to you Ethan to get you out of the way they said it themselves. Ditch the baby and let’s go.” Elsie says harshly, her words almost a hiss as she looks at Ethan.

“Whether she’s mine or not I can’t just leave a baby here. She’s coming back with us.” Ethan says firmly, glaring at each of his team members in turn who all shrink away from the intensity of Ethan’s glare. Ethan may not have confirmation of whether you were actually his baby or not, but everything in him was screaming that Abby was telling the truth. She may have been using this information to mess with him mentally, and his team was convinced there was no truth to her words. But Ethan’s heart knew different, and when he reached out to gently run the back of his index finger along your cheek and you grabbed it in your small hand, he had no doubt in his mind that you were his baby girl.

“We should head out. We don’t want to get caught by any local police or anything. We’ll get back stateside as soon as possible.” Daniel says and the team quickly exit the building, climbing into the van. As the van begins to drive off, Ethan notices that you’ve begun to doze off and a small smile comes to his face. On the journey, Elsie manages to find some plane tickets back to America, but all the flights have different times. Ethan was granted the earliest flight back which meant the team had to quickly put together a passport for you as well at Ethan’s request to ensure you could make it back to America as well.

When the team made it back to the safe house, Ethan packed his belongings, keeping you in his arms because the moment he tried to lay you on the bed so he could pack quicker you began to cry, only soothed by the feeling of being in Ethan’s arms.

“Okay, we’ve got a bit of time to kill before our flight so let’s get you some supplies, huh?” Ethan asks you softly as he grabs his bag and smiles down at you. He knew he wasn’t going to get a response out of you, but the way you looked up at him curiously was enough for him. After exiting the safe house, giving his team no more than a half-hearted goodbye as he went, Ethan heads in the direction of the nearest shop that sells baby supplies and heads inside, grabbing the basics just to last you until he gets back to America and can buy more.

After getting what you need, he heads to the airport and finds somewhere to change you before having to go into one of the airport's cafes to ask if they could heat a bottle for you which they do so with a smile. After getting the bottle back and at the perfect temperature, Ethan finds himself somewhere to sit and gently offers you the bottle which you grab eagerly, drinking as quick as you can.

“Whoa, sweetheart, slow down a little. Don’t want anything bad happening from you drinking this too fast.” Ethan warns softly, moving the bottle away from your mouth as you squirm to reach out for it. He figured you might’ve been at least a little hungry but the way you were acting indicated that you were more than a little hungry. Ethan gently brought the bottle back to your lips as he began to wonder if this was something he needed to be worried about or if he was just reading too much into it. After all, he had never really been around babies before. When you finish the bottle, Ethan has to think about what to do next, he knew some basics of baby care but some of it was still fuzzy in his memory. A woman noticed Ethan’s concerned expression as he looked down at you and took pity on him, telling her toddler to stick with his dad before getting up from her seat and crossing to him.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding but do you need a hand?” The woman asks gently, looking down at Ethan as he looks up at her.

“I just can’t remember what I’m supposed to do after a feed.” Ethan admits, a slight blush of embarrassment flushing across his face as he sits you up on his lap.

“You’re already on the right track. Sitting your baby up is good and then gently burp them just to make sure there’s no trapped air. After that, they’ll be right as rain.” The woman says, her kind smile never leaving her face as Ethan’s eyes widen in realisation, instantly positioning you correctly and gently patting your back.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” Ethan says gratefully, smiling up at the woman who shakes her head.

“Just helping out a fellow parent. Someone helped me out when I had my first baby, so I do my best to help people out now too.” The woman says softly, nodding at Ethan before bidding him goodbye and crossing over to her family. Ethan watches as the little boy hurls himself into his mother’s arms when she returns and Ethan softens, looking down at you where you had settled on his shoulder after the burping. When it came time for him to board the plane, you had practically dozed off in his arms. He boarded smoothly and found his seat, keeping you securely in his lap as he settled himself in his seat. You remained sleeping until the plane began to take off and your eyes opened, and you looked up at Ethan with teary eyes, clearly scared of the engines and feeling of taking off.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart. It seems scary and loud, but I promise you’re safe.” Ethan says soft enough to provide some comfort as you stare at him, reaching your little arms up and placing your hands on his cheeks, bringing a smile to his face that in turn brings a smile to yours. Ethan bounced you on his knee ever so slightly which made you giggle before snuggling back into Ethan’s chest, moving your hands from his face to his shirt where you grabbed a handful of his shirt and began dozing again. Ethan braced a hand on your back and rested his head against the seat and let his eyes slip shut to sleep for a while. He only had to get up once to change you and the rest of the flight was smooth and he soon found himself back in America. He was tired from the day he had, his sleep on the plane helped but he was sure he needed a proper sleep in a proper bed. Despite having the thought of wanting to do nothing more than collapse into bed, Ethan had to make a quick pitstop at the IMF headquarters to talk to the Director about what happened. He begins the journey from the airport to the IMF headquarters, entering the building once he arrives, avoiding the stares of fellow IMF personnel who stare at him with raised eyebrows when they see the baby in his arms.

“Director Brassel, forgive me for intruding but could I have a word?” Ethan asks, knocking on the Director’s office and entering upon gaining permission.

“Ethan, back so soon? And… you have a baby?” Director Brassel says, faltering when he sees Ethan setting down his bag and adjusting the way he’s holding you so you can be more comfortable in his arms.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, sir.” Ethan says, launching into the full story of what happened from when he met Abby that night in the bar to right now. He saw the variety of emotions swimming through his Director’s eyes as he told the story and all he could hope as he spoke was that he wouldn’t be cast out of the IMF. By the time Ethan finishes his story he’s almost out of breath, having explained everything he deemed important.

“Ethan… that is a real turn of events. And you’re sure this baby is yours?” Director Brassel says, easing himself up from his seat and slowly making his way over to Ethan.

“I was going to head down to the med bay after this to get her checked out and also to have a DNA test run. But I’m confident already in saying that she’s mine.” Ethan says, bouncing you slightly as you let out a giggle. Brassel stops himself in front of Ethan looking down at you and then at Ethan.

“May I?” He asks, holding his hands up as Ethan looks down at you and then back up at Brassel before nodding and handing you over to him so he can get a look at you. However, the moment you were out of Ethan’s hands you began to cry, squirming and reaching in Ethan’s direction as Brassel quickly handed you back over, your cries quickly turning into sniffles as you settled in Ethan’s arms once again.

“I am so sorry, sir.” Ethan apologises, wiping your tears gently and rocking you to soothe you.

“No need to apologise. She clearly feels very safe with you.” Brassel dismisses with a chuckle, smiling at Ethan. Looking down at you one more time, Ethan is reminded of what he came here to ask about in the first place.

“Sir, I was wondering if I could have a couple of days off? Once I get the DNA results back, I will need time to think about my next move, whether I give her up, keep her, or maybe there’s a secret third option I don’t know, but I’ll need time to think about it. As much as I enjoy the work I do here I need to have a clear head for whatever I do next.” Ethan asks as you snuggle into him, not paying attention to either of the two men anymore. To Ethan’s relief, Brassel’s smile doesn’t leave his face and he nods.

“Of course. Take as much time as you need and just get in contact when you’re ready to get back into the field.” He says, making the tension that had been sitting within Ethan dissipate almost immediately upon hearing the words. Now relaxed, Ethan nods slightly.

“Thank you so much, sir.” Ethan says gratefully, giving his Director a quick nod of acknowledgement before being dismissed and heading down to the med bay to get you checked over by the medic. When Ethan reaches the med bay, he’s greeted by one of the medics and ushered into one of the private rooms.

“Ethan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jane asks as both adults sit themselves down on chairs.

“I rescued this little girl earlier today. I just wanted to have her checked over and make sure everything’s okay.” Ethan says, drawing Jane’s attention to the baby in Ethan’s arms and she nods before looking back up at Ethan.

“What else can I do for you? I can tell by the look on your face that there’s more to this story.” Jane says, beginning to dig around in her equipment for the things she needs to give you a check-up.

“She’s the daughter of a woman I slept with almost ten months ago. There’s a good chance she’s my baby so I need to have a DNA test done.” Ethan admits, slightly embarrassed that Jane had seen through his façade so quickly. Thankfully, Jane nods and digs around for the equipment she needs for the DNA test while encouraging Ethan to sit you up on his lap so she can examine you. You didn’t take too kindly to the poking and prodding, as well as the cold stethoscope that was used to listen to your heart and lungs. You didn’t like when you had to be sat down out of Ethan’s embrace to have your weight checked but soon settled once you were back in his arms. Finally, Jane took a small swab and rubbed it on the inside of your cheek to collect what she needed for the DNA test. While Jane recorded everything and put the swab into the DNA tester, Ethan gave you all the fuss and attention you required as you giggled.

“Well, the good news is, her heart and lungs are strong, and she seems to be a strong girl. However, she is a little underweight for her age, so I’d just suggest giving her a little extra when you feed her, just so she gets that weight up a little.” Jane says, looking at Ethan who nods, realising that Abby and her group must not have been feeding you enough and he tenses his jaw to prevent his anger from coming out through words. Before another word could be spoken between the two, the DNA test machine prints something out and Jane picks it up, eyes scanning the words before looking back up at Ethan who without thinking, begins to hold his breath in anticipation.

“Well, congratulations Ethan this little bundle of joy is yours.” Jane says, a soft smile covering her face as she looks up at Ethan who releases the breath he had been holding before smiling with a nod in Jane’s direction before looking down at you as you let out a giggle, seemingly sensing Ethan’s happiness. Ethan ducked down to press a tender kiss to the top of your head and his heart swelled as you giggled further before the realisation of his decision hit him like a ton of bricks. He now had to make the decision to keep you or give you away.

Thanking Jane, Ethan gets up, leaves the room and then exits the IMF building before making his way back to his designated safe house. Once he reaches the safe house, he feeds and burps you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, staring at Luther’s contact in his phone, debating whether to have Benji and Luther come over to help him make a clear decision. After a few minutes of internal debate, Ethan texts Luther, telling him to get to the safe house as quickly as possible and to bring Benji with him. Bouncing you gently as he looks down at you, Ethan can’t help but smile.

“I guess I need to figure out a good name for you, huh sweetheart?”

By the time the two men arrived, Ethan had changed you and the two of you were now dozing on the sofa but the entrance of Benji and Luther stirred Ethan who quickly shushed the two the moment they came into his line of sight, carefully getting up from the sofa and crossing to them, ignoring the look of shock and confusion that covered their faces at the sight of a baby nestled in Ethan’s arms.

“Ethan… have you stolen a baby?” Benji asks, eyes wide as he looks from the bundle in Ethan’s arms to Ethan’s face. When Ethan looked over at Luther he could see a similar expression, however, Luther was better at hiding his shock than Benji. Luther’s shock all laid within his eyes whereas Benji’s shock was across his face as clear as day.

“No Benji, I didn’t steal a baby. I slept with someone a few months back and well… she ended up being a part of that group I was tracking and when she showed me her, I just couldn’t leave her behind so, Benji, Luther, this is my baby girl.” Ethan says introducing you to the team despite the fact you were still sleeping happily in his arms. He then watches Benji and Luther process the fact Ethan admitted to sleeping with someone from an enemy group, albeit accidentally, before they focus on you.

“Does she have a name?” Luther asks, a softness to his voice that not many get to hear as he watches you sleep against his chest.

“I’ve been doing some thinking and I think I got it. y/n Hunt.” Ethan says with a gentle smile, looking from you up to Benji and Luther who break out into the softest of smiles.

“Is this why you wanted us here? To meet her?” Luther then asks, watching as Ethan’s jaw tenses slightly as he shakes his head ever so slightly, the movement so minute it could’ve been missed entirely if Benji and Luther had not had their full attention on Ethan.

“Yes and no. I wanted you guys to meet her, of course. You’re two of the people I trust most. But I’ve got a difficult choice to make. I need to decide whether I keep her or give her away.” Ethan explains, looking at his closest friends, a deep pleading in his eyes that makes the two men exchange a look before focusing back on Ethan.

“This isn’t an easy choice, Ethan. It’s a dangerous life we lead.” Benji starts, his brain working as fast as possible to weigh up every pro and con of both situations.

“But we know the best ways to keep her safe. If she’s sent away, people could find out she’s yours, especially if that group tracks her down.” Luther then says, countering Benji’s point gently, both of them sharing a quick glance as they realise the other has made a valid argument. The three men share different viewpoints on the pros and cons of each decision. After about ten to fifteen minutes of debating Luther speaks up.

“We’ve debated this as much as we can, but this is up to you at the end of the day. She’s your little girl and we know you’ll pick what’s best for her. And we’ll support you every step of the way.” He says gently, watching as Ethan looks down at you, gently brushing your soft wisps of hair away from your face as you curl closer into his chest. Benji and Luther could see the internal debate going on within Ethan, how he struggled with knowing that you could be in danger regardless of what he decided to do. After a minute of silent debate, Ethan looks back up at his team.

“I’m keeping her. She’ll be safer with me, and I can protect her from anyone who would try to hurt her.” Ethan concludes, watching as Benji and Luther nod with gentle smiles.

“Looks like we have a new teammate now.” Benji says with a soft chuckle, looking over at Luther who lets out a light scoff, shaking his head at Benji’s words.

“Can I hold her?” Benji then suddenly asks, looking at Ethan for permission who hesitates.

“You can try, but so far, she’s not liked being out of my arms for more than a second so please don’t be offended if she starts crying.” Ethan says, handing you over to Benji, trying to be as gentle as possible to not rouse you. As Benji held you, your eyes blinked open, and you looked up at the man who was now holding you in place of Ethan and Ethan found himself once again holding his breath. To his shock however, you just smiled up at Benji and snuggled further into his arms, giggling at the shocked expression on Benji’s face before a huge grin crossed his face. Both Ethan and Luther could tell how instantly smitten Benji was with you as he watched you quietly as you reached up and grabbed his pinkie finger in your hand, melting Benji even further.

“I’ve known her for about ten minutes, but I’d already die for her.” Benji states, looking up at Ethan who can’t do much more than smile back at Benji, fully understanding how Benji is feeling because it’s exactly how Ethan felt himself when he held you for the first time and saw how you settled so quickly in his arms. Benji continued to coo and fawn over you while you just giggled at the light tone in his voice, clearly as smitten with Benji as he was with you.

“May I?” Luther then asks, looking at Ethan who nods before glancing at Benji who passes you over hesitantly, visibly upset at having to give you to Luther. Just like you did with Benji, you accepted being in Luther’s arms instantly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and curling closer as Luther watched, melting with each movement. Ethan and Benji had never seen Luther melt like this. He was usually so stoic, but you had reduced him into a puddle within seconds.

“You comfy there, Lil’ Hunt?” Luther says softly, so softly in fact that Ethan and Benji had almost missed the comment entirely. When they realised what he said, the two melted further at the nickname that they were sure would stick. Luther continued to talk to you in whispered tones as Ethan and Benji watched on.

“Shit, I forgot to buy more things for her and now all the shops are closed.” Ethan swears quietly, immediately ending up on the receiving end of a death glare from both Benji and Luther.

“It’s okay, we can figure all that out tomorrow. For now, I think little y/n deserves all the fuss in the world.” Benji says, before asking Luther if he could hold you again. The two of the men begin to bicker lightly with each other as they argue over who gets to hold you while Ethan watches with an amused grin. It was reliving for Ethan to see how Benji and Luther took to you immediately, but it was a million times better to see how quickly you took to them, evidence to him that you felt safe around his two teammates, and he knew he could trust them to look after you no matter what.

That day, Ethan and his team got a new mission, a permanent one, to keep you safe and protected no matter what.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #lil' hunt #lil' hunt universe #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #mission impossible rogue nation #mission impossible dead reckoning #ethan hunt mission impossible #ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #tom cruise #tom cruise mission impossible

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prismuffin · 6 months ago

Note

I just watched MI:V and I was searching for Ethan son reader fics and yours was the only one 🥺 I'm really grateful for that one though, it was perfect, wonderfully written. I guess my ask is similar and of course you can completely choose to ignore this too. But, yeah, Ethan comes home to get to know that his son is practically off the rails, has fallen into bad company which has given some bad habits too like maybe Ethan catches him smoking or something. Ethan then realises that he has to fix this and be home more often or it can even be that Solomon Lane captures the son to get Ethan to agree to him, anything works. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this!

A/n: I'm gonna try and filter out some of the asks in my inbox today!! A M:I ask to start off my day- I wrote way more than I planned to with this ask so I just made it a mini fic LMFAO

"You're My Son."

Dad!Ethan Hunt x Son!Reader

( summary: Ethan often worries what affect his absence is having on you and when he takes a break to head home he finds out )

warning?: mentions of smoking and drinking, readers depicted to be a teen of sorts but age is still fluid, semi-angsty? gets kinda sad

!-!more under the cut!-!

Ethan often wonders how his absence affects you, especially during such crucial years of you life and your development. He wishes he was the perfect father, maybe even just a good one but he knows that's easier said than done. On one hand he feels like the world needs him, and on the other, he knows that you do too. The guilt of leaving you to your own devices was catching up to him. No amount of daily calls to home could quell this concerned feeling within him so for the first time in who knows how long he took some time off. It was only two weeks, he just wanted enough time to let you know that he still cares, that he's still there for you, and then he'd go back to work feeling much better knowing that you don't feel like he's forgotten you.

After getting home he was a bit shocked to find you not there but didn't think anything of it, you're young and probably have friends you're hanging out with right now. But after a while it started to get late and dark and you weren't answering your phone so he decided to go out looking for you. He drove around his town searching for you, luckily his job made him very perceptive as it didn't take him long to find you. You stood outside a corner store surrounded by men that were obviously older than you, he watched in shock as you smoked with them, taking a swig of god knows what from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. He was furious but that anger quickly turned into something else as he realized his fears were coming true. How could he blame you for something like this when he is obviously the responsible one. He should've been here more.

Flashing his headlights, your group stopped throwing rocks at signs in confusion, and you cursed under your breath as you prayed it wasn't the cops. Who stepped out the car was much worse though in your opinion.

Your father.

He stood by the side of his car with his hands in his leather jacket, staring directly at you with a face that told you, you were in for it. Clicking your tongue, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him before dropping your cigarette and putting it out with your boot before saying bye to your group as you reluctantly walked up to the car. "Get in, y/n." was all your dad said when you got close enough.

The drive home was silent for only a minute before he spoke up. "Smoking y/n? Really?" You just stayed silent, continuing to look out the window, staring up at the moon. "And don't think I didn't see you drinking either, with older guys? Y/n, that's dangerous-" "They look out for me" You cut him off, daring to look at him. He opened his mouth before closing it with a sigh, not taking his eyes off the road. He thought for a moment, letting go the slight anger he felt at the situation, his eyebrows furrowing in concern as he spoke again. "I know I'm not always around and I'm sorry." His tone was sincere and you looked away from him, maybe it was because what he said made you angry, angry at the fact that it meant nothing. He was sorry? Does that even matter, the damage is already done. "But hanging out with men like them can get you in a lot of trouble." He stopped the car and it was only then that you'd noticed you'd made it back home but neither of you moved, he just simply turned to you with a worried expression. "Trouble I don't want to see you in. And look, I know I haven't been the best dad in the world, I know I'm never around but I still care about you. I think about you all day, everyday, whether I'm on a mission or not I wonder how you're doing without me and my worst fear was that my absence was making you bitter or sad and to see that I was right it's…" He trails off and you glanced at him, seeing the tears that had welled up in his eyes, your own looking quite similar as he placed his hand on your shoulder. "I'm gonna start being here for you okay? Not just with daily phone calls, I mean here." Though the angle was a little awkward with you both being in a car, he hugged you- and no matter how much you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself you couldn't, because you realized you missed him just as much as he missed you. You thought about him all day, everyday, whether you were busy or not. Wondering if he was alright or alive, knowing he risks his life everyday to save thousands if not millions of people.

So you hugged him back and let the tears flow, your grip on him tightening as you heard his next words. "You're my son, and I'm gonna take care of you again."

Ethan called IMF Headquarters that night, requesting much more than two weeks off.

----!----

( This was gonna be an ask but it turned out so long I just kinda made it a mini-fic )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

Check my page for my Request Taking Status !!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

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#prismuffin #prisask #ethan hunt x male reader #ethan hunt mission impossible #dad ethan hunt x son reader #platonic ethan hunt #mission impossible x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x reader #mission impossible ethan hunt #mission impossible fanfiction #ethan hunt imagine #ethan hunt fanfiction #ethan hunt x reader #mission impossible #ethan hunt fic #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise x reader

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lokiified · 7 months ago

Text

a world with you

summary: when you get back from a mission, and Ethan isn't there.

pairing: ethan hunt x f!agent!reader

word count: 2.8k

author's notes: descriptions of injury, mention of a python snake, anxiety over major character death, flirty banter and some suggestive stuff, reference to a Jason Mraz song, so angsty for a bit but sweet fluff i promise, established relationship, no use of y/n, taking care of ethan bc he deserves it, i imagined this with mi2 ethan bc that look is just unmatched so this takes place in like 2007

The innocent mumble of traffic below the window was starting to give you a headache. Your ears had been strained, pricked-up to the slightest of noises, for what felt like ages.

Battered and bruised from the mission, you’d stumbled into the safehouse a mere hour ago. You were running on only adrenaline and Ethan’s training playing on loop in your brain as you instinctively started undressing to clean your wounds. The haze in your mind mercifully numbed the burn of rubbing alcohol and the aches in your bones, and when you finally came-to you’d showered and changed into a clean set of clothes. It was then that you realized that you didn’t know where Ethan was.

“If I don’t make it back, please don’t come looking for me,” he’d always said, brushing gentle lines across your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, “keep yourself safe first.” He would press a soft kiss to your forehead, as if it would seal his words into your mind.

But now, now that he really wasn’t here, now that it was the fear of a dreaded possibility coming true that was clawing it’s way done your spine, it took more strength than any mission to keep yourself from throwing on your jacket and boots and marching back into the world, exhausted as you were, to find him.

The mission was simple: get in, plant a trace on a necklace in the hotel’s vault, and get out. You’d both been expecting the security in the back hallways of the hotel, but what you hadn’t prepared for was that one of the goons was an ex-agent, defected and gone rogue a few years prior; he recognized the two of you immediately. In the midst of the struggle, you’d been separated from Ethan.

Now, hands trembling as they fidgeted in your lap, you were waiting. The window in the living room was open and the apartment was dark, depriving every other sense to focus all of your attention on listening, waiting for Ethan to come back. Surely he was going to come back?

But the men were big and there were at least a dozen of them, and the memory was pierced with the crack of gunshots beneath the haze of adrenaline as you made a break for it.

You… made a break for it? Why did you run? Why didn’t you stay and fight like Ethan probably did? You were such a coward. How could you leave him there to fend for himself? Of course he’s can take care of himself, but what if he’s dead?

Then it would be your fault.

The guilt suddenly choked your lungs like a python with its prey, stifled sobs wreaking silent havoc on your body as you pulled your legs up to your chest and hugged yourself, burying your face into your knees. He was dead and it was your fault, all your fault. He had always been so selfless, so brave and so willing to do anything for you, even back when he barely knew you. You were a horrible person. You could never face Luther again; not with the knowledge that it was your fault Ethan was dead, that you had killed him—

“Agent?”

Your head snapped up from your knees, eyes locking onto the figure that had appeared in the window’s reflection. The sudden roar of blood pounding in your ears made you dizzy, and you squinted into the inky black night as you stumbled through the fog in your brain: he certainly looked like your Ethan, although the silhouette of his hair falling around his shoulders was the only detail you could make out in the darkness, but it seem impossible. He couldn’t be here. You’d left him behind, he was dead and it was all your fault. But then who was this man that had the key to the safehouse? Should you run? Suddenly the reflection was moving, then there was movement in your peripheral, and a figure that looked a whole lot like the Ethan you loved came and crouched in front of you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “I’m right here.”

His hands reached your waist but you jumped back at his touch and scrambled into the cushions, half expecting this to all be a hallucination. His hands recoiled and quickly raised in surrender, his brows twitching together with worry as he watched you, your chest beginning to heave in panic. Your heart longed to believe it was Ethan, wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch, but it didn’t make sense for him to be here.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on yours as he slowly lowered a hand. You eyed the gun on the holster around his shoulders, but he moved past it and found the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one slowly and moving to slide the shirt over his shoulders. He quickly dropped it on the floor and brought his hands up again.

“It’s me, okay? I promise. You can check, I promise it’s me.”

You inspected him from afar, noting the smattering of bruises across his ribs and the graze of a bullet on the underside of his right arm, crusted over with blood. His skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and grime, but nowhere could you find any seams or signs of deception. You moved closer to him.

“Tell me something only my Ethan would know about me,” you said, your voice wavering in the aftermath of your panic. Ethan smiled, warming your heart with his radiance.

“Our first date was two years ago, in Rome, when our mission got called off after we’d already landed. I took you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the city, and we danced to that Jason Mraz song you love so much-“

“A World With You,” you finished with him, slipping off the cushion and into his open arms on the floor. His arms encircled you and squeezed gently, and your tears came spilling out of you at the comfort of his touch. He moved so his back was against the couch and you were cradled in his arms, his head resting atop yours as he stroked your arms to soothe you.

“I thought you were dead, I thought they killed you… I thought you were dead and it was my fault because I left you there, how could I leave you there?” The words tumbled out of you between sobs, your mind and body expelling all of your fears into his warm embrace.

“No, hey, I told you to run, remember?” He said, bringing a hand to lift your face and look at him. “I told you to run as soon as the guard recognized us, remember?” You shook your head, trying to recall his voice but all you could hear was the sound of gunshots and shouting fading behind you as you raced through the halls.

“I promise I told you to run, okay?” He brushed away the trail of tears on your cheeks and moved the hair out of your face as he spoke. “You were just following orders, you did the right thing.” His voice was like a balm to your wounds, soothing the guilt that gripped your chest. The rest of the night was coming back to you; Ethan’s frantic shout when he realized the situation with the guard, his promise to come find you. Your breathing evened out. You became aware of his own heart beating solidly beneath your weight, of the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Yeah… yeah okay,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest again. You focused on breathing, on the steady thumping of Ethan’s heart, the proof that he was alive here with you.

“We should really get you cleaned up,” you said after a while, and he sighed.

“I missed you,” he replied as he squeezed you tighter.

“I missed you too, but that doesn’t change the fact that you desperately need a shower.” His head sprung away from resting atop yours and he looked at you in disbelief.

“What are you saying, Agent?”

You pecked a kiss on his nose and grinned, “you stink.”

He broke into a grin and leaned closer to you, placing a hand on the back of your head and capturing your lips in a kiss. You moved in perfect tandem with each other, the anxieties of the day fading into the background as you poured your heart into this moment, this single moment where nothing else exists besides the two of you, kissing in the dark like two teenagers on stolen time.

Your arms draped over his shoulders and your hands moved to tangle in his hair, pressing your body against his as if you could get any closer to him. His hands moved between cupping your face and gripping your waist like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you more. His teeth caught your lower lip and you released a breathy moan, and you felt his lips curl into a smile at the sound. He broke away with heavy breathing, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I thought I smelled bad” he whispered with a smile as you caught your breath.

“Oh you do.” Ethan leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled away and stood to your feet. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” His face melted into a pout and you laughed, causing his lips to twitch up into a smile and betray his feigned offence. You reached your hands out to him and he accepted your help, standing up slowly. You noted the way he grimaced as he stood and your eyes flicked across his body in search of the source of his pain.

“Do you need help walking to the bathroom?” you asked, then rolled your eyes when he quickly shook his head. “Let me rephrase that: I’m going to help you walk to the bathroom.” Ethan grinned at you and accepted your aid, slinging an arm around your shoulder and lending you some of his weight. Slowly, the two of you made it to the bathroom where you set him down on the closed toilet seat. His shirt stayed behind on the floor of the living room, and in the dim light and sweet aroma of the candles you found in the cupboard you helped Ethan peel off the rest of his clothes and expose the wounds underneath. Mercifully, there were no major gashes besides the bullet graze on his arm.

“Are you injured at all?”

You gave him a stern look, “you’re not allowed to ask that until I’m done taking care of you.” You finished wrapping his arm and stepped back to inspect the rest of him, then walked over to the tub and started running the hot water.

You noticed the way his eyes followed you wherever you went, his gaze warm and filled with longing, like you were the most important thing in the world.

As the tub filled up you helped Ethan to his feet and into the now ankle-deep water. You pulled two towels and a facecloth from the shelf and put them on the mat in front of the tub. You’d showered earlier, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to pamper Ethan after a hard day. Goodness knows he deserves it.

You shut off the water and slid out of your sweats and t-shirt, the chill of the darkened apartment hitting you suddenly before you dipped your toes in the water. It was the perfect temperature, and warmed you instantly as you submitted yourself further into its embrace. You both sat facing each other, knees to your chests, the steam of the water rising up to color your cheeks and twist Ethan’s hair into curls.

Allowing the silence to linger like the steam in the air, you motioned for Ethan to turn around so his back was to you. You cupped your hands and brought water up to his head, soaking his hair through. You smiled to yourself as you reached for the shampoo, grateful that Ethan had remembered to bring his own products. He was very passionate about his precious hair, and the IMF’s safehouse supplies were never up to his standards.

You massaged the product into his scalp, the tension that remained in his neck melting away with every press of your fingers. His head rolled back and his shoulders dropped, and you caught a glimpse of his small smile, eyes closed in bliss. I should do this more often, you thought to yourself.

When you were done with his hair you pulled the showerhead from its hook on the wall and rinsed his head, combing your fingers through the strands as you went. Once the last of the shampoo was rinsed out you took the facecloth and lathered it up with soap. Gently, you scrubbed away the sweat and grime from the day, kneading the sore muscles beneath Ethan’s battered skin.

“I remember this one,” you whispered, so as not to startle him in the sacred stillness that had settled over the room. Your ministrations had paused at a long white scar, poorly healed and puckered. You dragged your finger down it, from the top of his right shoulder blade to his waist. “You got it in Malasia, back in ’04.” Ethan turned around to face you, a serious look set into his features.

“I remember,” he said, and you could see him flipping through the memories in his head. “You were captured. I disobeyed direct orders and went to rescue you.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile; he had saved your life that day.

“That was the day I realized I loved you.”

The sound of limbs wading through water wafted up your ears in the steam as you watched Ethan’s face, his hand coming up from the water to cup your face and his head leaning forward to rest against yours. You closed your eyes, feeling the heat radiating from his body and the dew that was rising on his skin from the heat of the water.

You’d always found a way back to each other, even before everything.

After a few minutes he pulled away and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hair, inhaling to smell your shampoo and smiling against your skin. You raised yourself out of the water and his eyes grazed over your body, a hint of his playboy smirk surfacing but he seemed to think better of it; it had been a long, tiring day for the both of you. Instead of whatever had crossed his mind, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on the front of each of your thighs. When you were both dried off, you pulled on your clothes from earlier.

“Let me go get you something, I’ll be right back.”

You returned with a soft cotton t-shirt, a deep green that complimented his tanned skin and chestnut hair beautifully, and his favorite pair of sweatpants. The sight of him in such comfortable clothes, a cheeky smile on his face, made your heart soar with joy. He deserved every comfort you could ever bring him. His hands were warm when they reached yours, fingers intertwining as you lead him into the darkened bedroom, the moon and city lights casting a gentle blue glow onto the bed.

You fell asleep almost instantly, but Ethan laid awake for hours. Despite the exhaustions of the day, he didn’t feel like he could sleep yet. He had been worried about you too; worried he would come back to the safehouse and find it empty, void of your presence which he so desperately needed. He always needed you, but after days like today he felt like he might die without you. There was no one else he felt safe enough to surrender to; no one else he could give his weakness and pain to and trust them to handle it with care.

The gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath his arm was continuously drawing him closer to sleep, but he felt the need to reflect on your time together and make sure he hasn’t taken anything for granted after being half-convinced he had lost you today.

He thought of Rome, of the way your face shone in the glow of the city lights beneath the rooftop where you danced with him. He thought of waking up beside you in countless countries that the average person could never name. He thought of the day he told you he loved you, hiding in a Russian forest while hiding for your lives. He thought of the day you were assigned to his team, your sweet and innocent face immediately lighting up his world despite the darkness that haunts him.

With your hands intertwined, your bodies as close as physically possible, and his mind filled with memories of a world with you, Ethan finally submitted himself to rest.

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