mrdanielbond

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chapter 17)

“The Y/N whisperer”

[James Bond x Reader]

[Plot: Looking back, all those months ago, your relationship with James wasn't all for nothing. There was a time you could trust him. However, trust now proves a very big word for anyone you pass...]

[Trigger Warning: Anxiety Attack, Swearing - as usual]

[A/N: Another flashback? Okay I know this is a heavy chapter at almost 6k words! I know the plot is a bit wild and up in the air but I promise it'll all come together soon! Also Chapter 18 is action packed! Now we’re starting to look at James and the reader, especially for this where my heart drops! I also don’t know if any of you have been to late night board games cafés but they are the world’s best invention! And Q is back at it again stirring the pot! Again Jonathan is an actor of your choosing! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Much love, x]

7 months ago:

Another long week of work left you really struggling. As you sat inside the library, looking through a book, your phone pinged. A text message. Overtime, you had forgotten about how awful you were at texting and progressively it declined to the point you just stopped answering. Your phone pinged once more, this time irritating you.

Quickly, you swiped the phone, noticing a missed call from your ex-husband, wondering if you had any plans. Then there were a few texts a from other colleagues, but then there was a text from James. Actually, you hadn’t saved his name as that on your phone. He was titled under, ‘Martini Man’, a name he wasn’t too fond off after you bullied him over such a delicacy over a drink. Ever since then, it stuck and he hated you for giving him such a title too. Your phone buzzed again, removing you from your thoughts. James, again. He was just as bad as you at texting so this had to be serious. You hadn’t seen him in little over a week as he was sent over to the Bahamas. Originally, he invited you, but you were so swamped with work you had to decline. PING. Okay, so you had to answer. But then you saw an image attached to a message.

-

From: Martini Man

To: You

Saw this and it reminded me of you.

-

You looked at the image, a selfie of James beside a crashed car. You stared at the image smiling. The bastard knew how to irritate you. Especially considering the running joke was your driving skills against Bond’s impeccable ones. You also noticed he looked incredibly happy in the photo, as if he had been dying to show you this. Then another message came through.

-

From Martini Man

To You:

Stepping in the car with you is like going into cardiac arrest…and I’ve done it before.

-

Finally, you responded.

-

From: You

To: Martini Man

Be careful Bond.  Don’t want to slip into another one without the car. ;)

-

Before you could finish typing, your phone started to buzz. It alarmed you but this time, you realised it was James.

“You are so impatient. I was just typing.” You answered.

“Really? Your response rate is a minimum of three working days, I don’t know what to expect.” He sassily retorted. That did make you snort with laughter. “No, no! Wait, I’ve got another one. My WiFi works a lot faster than your response time.”

Okay the second one made you roll your eyes but you had to admit, you loved bringing out this side to him. “Is that it? You get it all out of your system or am I going to be blindsided by another attack?”

“I can assure you, I have nothing else up my sleeve. But anything to get you to respond to me over the phone.”

This makes you smirk, “And what if I rejected your call?”

“You wouldn’t want to know what would hit you if you came home.” You could tell he was smirking over the phone. “I take it work’s going well.”

“Oh yes, it’s as glamorous as flying into the Bahamas on a life-threatening mission. I mean I’m surrounded by books that’ll topple over me any moment now.”

“You’re still working? Isn’t it 10 pm? You should be hiding in your room by now.”

“And you should be enjoying the sun and those drinks, Martini Man.”

“Don’t test me.” You could hear the growl over the phone, something that warmed you up inside. Even though you couldn’t necessarily look at each other that way, you couldn’t help but keep the flirty banter going. It didn’t mean you couldn’t admire him.

“Which library are you at?”

“What’s up?” James usually called you out of the blue now and again just to talk in the evenings, but you knew he was up to something.

“Alright, you got me.” He quickly added, “I’m booking you an uber, there’s a package I need you to collect for me.”

“Right now? I’m busy.”

“You’re in the home that accommodates the world’s knowledge. You have all the time in the world to go there.”

“Now’s not the time to be going all nerd on me.”

“I’m just stating simple facts, Y/N.” Ooh, whenever he said your name it sounded like honey. “Can’t believe you don’t even remember my love for books.” He sounded almost disappointed.

“We’ve spoken about books? Since when?” There was a pause over the phone. Then you started laughing.

“I’m joking, of course I have fallen trap to your many discussions on modern and classical literature. You only mention it a dozen times over the phone when I ask, what you’re doing.”

He couldn’t help but laugh again. “Look, as much as I’d love to indulge myself in whatever you’re reading, tonight is not going to be that night.” You could hear shuffling somewhere in the background. Then another man’s voice, asking him where he was headed. “Hi, mate. I think the place is called, wait. Y/N, which library are you in?”

 Your eyes widened. “Woah, seriously mate I could be halfway across town! Don’t get a cab-”

“What’s that library you mentioned the other day. You said you liked it because it was named after this academic you were telling me about. What was the...Oh that’s it! Hang on, let me show the driver the address.”

“James, don’t you dare-”

“Yesterday's deconstructions are often tomorrow's orthodox clichés. Driver will be thirty minutes.” With that, the phone cut. He was bluffing. He had to be, right? You knew the hint. He knew the library you were in!

 But you admired how daring he was, so you stuck around inside.

But now forty minutes passed and with no update from James you were convinced he was bluffing. It was getting late anyway. With that, you packed your bag, heading downstairs. You were prepared to leave when you heard a voice in reception, one that sounded all too familiar.

“You’re talking about the Cayman Islands.”

You froze in your tracks. The man talking to the librarian was James, his back turned to you but you could tell it was him from the leather jacket you’ve seen him wearing before. James checked his watch.

 You could see the receptionist swooning over him as he turned to you proudly. It took you a moment to do a double take - something was off. Then it hit you. He was wearing glasses! The man put his hands in his pockets, grinning from ear to ear. “Stuart Hall Library. Wise choice.”

“Oh my god you’re specky!” Was all you could blurt out. “What did the Bahamas do to you?!”

You couldn’t help the irony of it all. You shared intellectual conversations with the man but HE often called you a nerd, which you proudly took as a title. However, this man had beaten you to it.

James rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha. Very funny. I lost my contacts on the way here.”

He had a tan going on, bringing out his eye colour. You could even see bags under his eyes, he probably must’ve landed recently. How did he make it so far without going undetected?

“Contacts? So you’re saying your eye colour isn’t-”

“Oh it’s more than real. When we get back, I’ll show you.” Smooth. You had to admit he was a smooth talker. The receptionist put her hand on her cheek, watching James intently.

“Nice try but I think you should save the lines for someone who would appreciate it.” His smile dropped. You knew the game too well. Eventually, you spoke again, “I thought you weren’t due for another week?”

“Well, I came in this afternoon, wanted to surprise you for an evening without being surprised by Q.”

God those eyes were intense. Even with glasses. “Jesus, Christ. Don’t you want to go home and get some rest?”

“No rest for the wicked.” He winked, putting his hand on your arm briefly. You looked down at it, and knew he was trying to gain the upper hand.

“So, what I’m hearing is you want to drink til you drop.” You mumbled, “Alcoholic.”

James laughed, “What can I say? Living with you makes me want to drink.” You playfully shoved him.

“What’s on for tonight?” You finally said as the two of you head outside.

“Well I was thinking we can go out for a few drinks-”

The receptionist’s face dropped. He saw you shrugging, it didn’t surprise you at least. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out. And no, before you say anything we're not going to your average Spoons."

 As you entered the pub, you both sat in the corner, listening to jazz music in the background. It was just a regular pub, nothing you haven’t seen before. So without hesitation you order a pint. And then a couple of more. And then even more. Five pints in and the two of you are engrossed in a conversation that felt nonsensical when sober but a lot to you when drunk.

"You know I don't usually do fancy dinners."

"Well that's a shame." James chuckled. "I could definitely see you fitting in fancy places, drinking cocktails…” He leaned over to your ear, if he moved any closer you could’ve sworn he would’ve heard your heartbeat, “Wearing a marvellous dress." He finally said.

"Is that what I want or something that you want?"

"Maybe it’s something we both want. Minus the marvellous dress.” He winked, turning back to his drink. There was something about this particular trip, you didn’t know whether it was the fact he wore glasses, his dark blue shirt or the amount of alcohol but the urge to take him up on his offers were a lot stronger. Maybe you should slow down on the drinks.

"Can you even afford that?" You blurted.

James shrugs. "You don't even like that stuff anyway so you won't be able to find out." His snarky response did liven the mood. You could feel something different going on, but knowing yourself, you blamed the glasses and assumed you were talking to someone different. But he was bolder, smarter...hotter.

 Last rounds were called and now it was closing time. As you expected the night to come to an end, the two of you stepped outside, surrounded by buzzed drinkers. Neither of you knew where you were heading, just continued to walk. Something caught James’s tongue. The new silence nerved you. He looked like he wanted to say something desperately.

“Who died?” You ask. This snapped James from his thoughts. “What?” He responded.

“It’s just I didn’t know we were doing a moment of silence." You said. He let out a laugh but it was off, you could tell. “Go on, out with it.”

“I’ll be going away in a couple of days. Just for a few weeks. The arms dealer I was after seems to have a lot more contacts than I thought.”

Your eyebrows raise, “Oh. Right. That’s cool.” Alright maybe a part of you did feel slightly gutted that he’d be leaving but you refused to give him the satisfaction. The flat did seem a lot emptier without him these days. Just as you were starting to get comfortable. Your reaction did surprise him.

“I mean you’re already used to it, but I might be off grid for a little while longer. Think you could hold the fort that long?” 

“Well you do what you’ve got to do.” You shrugged.

“I’ve already got our rent covered for at least a month, so you don’t have to work overtime.” He mentioned. How could he? Had he been worried about the hours you were taking?

“You didn’t have to do that.” You scolded.

“You didn’t let me finish. I’m expecting a call from the landlord in the next five days, telling me I’ve got to pay a higher rate for insurance, just because you’ll blow up the bloody flat by then. At least I want us covered by then.”

Okay, that made you laugh. But soon you realised, the night had probably come to an end. As you fell into a short silence, James made an amused hum. “Who died?”

“Very funny, asshole.” You snapped back. “So should we get the tube or-”

James seemed deep in thought for a moment, “I’m not too sure I want the night to end.”

This surprised you.

“Are you the one dying?”

“No. What??!"

"You make it sound like you're dying."

"No! I don't plan on dying any time soon either. So what do you say?

“I have no plans so whatever works for you, works well with me.”

 There was something electric. You couldn’t tell if it was the amount of gin you had or if it was the cool breeze that made you realise you were suddenly hot but there was something. A part of you realised James could see it too. His tall figure towered over you, eyes shining underneath the lamppost as he moved one of his hands in his pockets.

“Great.” Was all he could say.

“Great.” You responded.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you trust me?”

“With drinks...three. Without drinks...three.” You said, this caused him to erupt into laughter.

“Well, too bad.” Was all he said. Too bad? Oh how this man tested your patience.

James held his hand out for you to take. This only made things worse for you, but you continued putting on a brave face.

As you stepped into the bar, ‘Yesterday Morning’ by The Infatuations filled the area quietly. Mahogany and blues filled the small space with a few couples and groups of friends sat together dining and drinking but the one thing that got you...were the swings for seats! It was a late night board games café!

“Where’d you find this place?”

“I’d been coming here ever since I first moved to London.”

And you spent hours there, laughing and drinking together for the next three hours. Of course, you were much better at chess than James, so it was believable he flipped the board as he was caught in a difficult position. You shared drinks and amusing stories of the last few weeks with each other as the old friends you were becoming. To the outside, you seemed like a couple smitten with each other. But you knew this man. He was the flatmate you enjoyed irritating. You soon realised that you enjoyed his company a lot more than intended. Boy, the next few weeks were going to be hard.

The next few weeks were a breeze, until you reached that one day. November 16th. Where everything fell apart. You dreaded reaching that fateful day, being alone. Over the last few years, all you knew was in order to get through it, you would surround yourself with work. You would visit places, you would do your best to block out the memory. The guilt. The trauma. You couldn’t go through it. Not again. The day started off with you staring at the ceiling in silence. You were going to get through this, that’s what you told yourself. But then all it took was for a mug to smash and you found yourself hyperventilating. Your heart rate increased. Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t stop even if you tried. Something clicked in you and you couldn’t go back to the way you were.

 That had been the last few days before the door clicked open in your flat. James returned with a weekender bag and a takeaway bag. “Hello? Anyone home? Y/N?” There was silence. “Coming back from the airport, I couldn’t find any of the burgers from that place, you like so shit kebabs will have to do."

James froze when he heard the television faintly playing in the background. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a gun. He made his way towards the living room but saw you there...on the floor, head resting against your knees. Bond put the gun away and settled beside you. You couldn’t remember how long you were like this. It must’ve been hours today, which wasn’t an improvement from the first attack.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked.

You shook your head. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief, wiping the fresh tears on your cheek. Usually, something this intimate you never allowed. Especially with James. But your body refused to protest.

“Need a drink?” You nodded. He didn’t have to press you to answer. You appreciated that about him.

James got up and poured a couple of bourbon on the rocks. He returned to still see you on the floor. Your hands trembling. You really were in a numbing state of mind. It was terrifying. James sat back down on the floor, placing the drinks beside him. By this time, his jacket was already off and thrown aside. The trembling came to a slow stop when a large hand covered yours. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, a soft way of bringing you back to him. His cologne was just enough to make you realise you weren’t alone. You didn't pay much attention to his messy state from his stressful mission or how close he was to you. He lifted his arm, pulling you into him so you could lean on his chest. So you could listen to the sound of his gentle heartbeat. So he could bring you home. “I’m here now. It’s alright, mate.” God the fresh tears couldn’t stop for you. All he could make out from you was a small sniffle and rest his head against yours.

You both sat in silence for ages, television still playing faintly in the background. Neither of you paid attention, you didn’t have to. Eventually, Bond turned to you.

“That bastard. Q stole my bloody onion rings.”

You gave a hum, it was the best you could give to hide your sad smile. Bond took time to think, for some reason he hated seeing you this shattered. He couldn’t understand why but he knew he wanted to see you smile.

“Whatever this is, for what it’s worth know you’re not alone.”

And then the floodgates broke. You quietly sobbed while James held you tighter. You were like this for ten minutes and James’ shirt was soaked but he didn’t care. Eventually you pulled back, wiping the last of your tears when you had nothing left to give.

“I wish I could tell you-”

“I get it. Talking is hard.”

You nodded, giving a sad smile.

“God, you’re having a bad day? My onion rings were stolen, I spent five minutes trying to get our bourbon just right but now its diluted into practically water, and my shirt is wet.” That finally made you laugh.

“I’m sorry about that.” It was all your wavering voice could say.

“You should be, its Tom bloody Ford.”

You laughed again and playfully pushed him. “There it is. That smile.”

“In all fairness, when you said drink, I thought you meant tea."

"We both know I don't mean that. That reminds me actually, we’re out of tea bags. You might want-"

"No, you-"

"Go to the shop and get them." You both said at the same time. You both laughed for a moment.

"We really are lazy." You realised.

“I don’t think that’ll ever change. Now, I’ll go warm up the food and get fresh drinks. Will you be alright here for a couple of minutes?”

You nodded. James wasn’t one for sentiment but in that moment, all he could wish was to take away your pain. Even for a split second. He had never seen you this way. Shaking, the way you were. Broken, the way you were. He squeezed you once more before heading to the kitchen.

And in that moment you realised, despite how much you disagreed with each other, couldn’t stand each other at times, even went out of your way to make each other miserable – he cared. He truly cared for you.

Arms are wrapped around yours as the television faintly plays in the background. It was 3am. You hadn’t realised you nodded off, snuggled up in a blanket on the sofa...but wait a minute. You were in arms. There was only one person you lived with. Instantly, you looked up. James was fast asleep. Comfortable. Underneath you.  Oh boy. This was weird. How had you even managed to lean into him in this position? You were busy mocking his suit from the other side of the room hours ago after he made you feel better, forcing him to change into shorts and a t shirt. Where he looked most comfortable. You too had changed into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. What you hadn't realised was how comfortable you were next to him. It was odd, something you weren't used to. The flirty banter between you was always light and playful but being this close to him made you feel something else. He let out a few light sighs, probably a subconscious relief that he had nothing on his mind. Or did he? You could never figure him out these days. If only you could, especially after days like today.

Then you realised how much of a burden you must've been. Pressed against him. So you made a plan. Move, get him tucked in and run off to your room so at least you could get some sleep alone. But when you shifted you hear...

“Don’t.” His rough voice said. “I just nodded off.” OH his tired voice was doing something for you. 

“Then go to your room.” You retorted with a smirk.

“It’s too far. Let's just go back to sleep." He held you tighter, leaning back so you could see his chest rise and fall. Was it weird? That your flatmate was this cosy with you? Hang on. You didn’t even have to question it. This IS weird. Any other situation, any other man it would’ve been fine. But this is James, for goodness sake. He’s the forbidden fruit.

“Does it hurt?” You asked, seeing the number of bruises and cuts spread across his face. He must’ve had a rough time but put it all aside to pay attention to you.

“Not as much as you talking while I’m trying to sleep.” He mumbled. This dickhead. You thought. His phone pinged. You caught a glimpse from the table. Usually you'd ignore it. But then it pinged again, raising your curiosity.

“Um, who’s Madeleine?”

“No one. Now go to sleep or we’ll both retire to my room.”

The threat made you chuckle. Then his phone pinged again. You picked up the phone, eyebrows raised as the screen flashed.

“Can’t wait to see you again, my love...Bond is she your girlfriend?”

“Hm?” He still didn't move.

“James! Your girlfriend just messaged you! Get your arms off me!”

“What? What!” His eyes snapped open, “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“So, who’s Madeleine then?” Like a deer caught in headlights, Bond snatched his phone from you. 

“That’s enough looking through my stuff for one day.” He lay back down. He could feel your eyes on him without even looking back. "She's no one. Its nothing."

"I don't think that's nothing."

"Are you feeling better?”

"You can't do that-"

"Can’t do what?”

“God, you’re annoying.” You snapped, “Stop deflecting.”

“Annoying? Well I find myself rather amusing actually.” He said, rubbing your arm. “So, it’s safe to say that we’ve slept together now. Am I right?” He winked. But he knew your reaction. He held your arms tighter before your fight or flight response was even initiated. You laughed with him, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that.” James held his tongue for a moment, squinting his eyes then let you go.

“For the record, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever you say, Martini.” You chuckled, getting up from the sofa and heading to your room. Then he realised something…What was that phrase? He hated seeing you go, but he loved watching you leave.

 Present Day:

You and Q sat in silence as the knocks on the door emerged again. You were about to step up when Q stopped you.

“I’ll get it. Just relax.” Q answered the door, and turned back to you confused. “There’s no one here.”

“What the hell?” You snapped, getting up to investigate yourself. He was right. There was no one at the door.

“I don’t imagine Eve’s neighbours to be children either.” Q mumbled.

“Maybe they thought no one was home. We did just sit and listen to the knocks for ages without doing anything.” You grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

After ten minutes, the feeling of being trapped inside the flat started to get to you. Even though it rained, you could do with some fresh air, but Q immediately protested.

“We are not leaving this flat. Did you not just hear the knock on the door?”

“Alright, so what if I carry a knife with me?”

“Y/N, I cannot let you do that.”

“What other choice do I have? If I stay here any longer, I will lose the plot.”

As you stood outside, taking in the air, sipping on whiskey...“I thought you aren’t allowed to drink on medication.” Immediately you rolled your eyes, remembering that baritone voice, filled with concern. Jonathan.

“I should seriously call the police on the men I’m surrounded by. This is stalking.” You mumbled, refusing to turn around.

“Y/N, I’m not giving up on us but right now we have a bigger matter to discuss and if you don’t-”

Slowly, you turned. “Because I cannot be fucked to tell you to go away, I’m going to let you in. You have a lot and I mean a lot of explaining to do.

Here you are, sitting with irritation on your face to face with the other man you vowed to kill. God this man was annoying. He manspreads across his chair, top buttons on his shirt open, but doesn’t wear an arrogant smirk. But two days ago, you were sure you were going to pounce on his man. Now he gave you the ‘ick.’

Q entered the room, concerned at the sight of you staring at your phone. Jonathan sat across from you, seemingly waiting for an answer.

Q turned to Eve, who seemed to be enjoying the action.  “What’s going on?” 

“Y/N is refusing to listen to anything Agent Hicks is saying. She’s actually pretty good at it.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan starts, “Could you please just look at me so I can explain myself.”

Your phone started ringing. Quickly, you answered. “Hello? Yes, who - oh my god Rory! No, I’m not doing much you slimy bastard. How’s the tech gig going? Do I want a free laptop? Hell yes! Stay with me on the line, I’ll make an order with you.” You laughed, walking towards the door. “No, just working. You know how it is. One twat messes up the entire mission, a couple of snakes are left behind to stab you in the back. No, of course not! You’re lying!” You gasped, leaving the room.

Jonathan looked down, letting out a large huff. Q on the other hand, continues to smirk.

“Seems you bring out an ugly side to Y/N. Care to explain how?”

Jonathan turned to Q, a sharp glare towards the tech genius, “Why? Because you’re the Y/N whisperer?”

“I guess I should be given that title as her husband, don’t you think?” He winks, turning back to his laptop.

Jonathan’s face drops. “What?”

As you re-entered off the phone, Jonathan rose to his feet. “Y/N, we need to discuss-”

“Sorry, did you hear something? I think my phone was buzzing.” You said turning to Q.

“I don’t exactly know-“ He started.

“I mean according to your job, we don’t listen to people who work with criminals, do we?” You say with certainty. This emits a frustrated sigh from Jonathan.

“Y/N…”

“Especially backstabbing, double crossing, conniving, manipulative daughters of criminal masterminds. But maybe that’s just me.” Jonathan sighs a moment, realising you weren’t going to look him in the eye at all. He stands from his seat, approaching you now. Your breath almost hitches when you remember how deep those eyes were. How you once snuggled into those arms at night, you felt safe in your place in the world. All worries, non-existent. But then you realised...this man was a snake! This asshole listened to you pour your heart out for hours about the growing frustrations this woman brought, only to not to disclose that he knew her! He listened to all your stories about James - who’s to say he wasn’t actively plotting your demise by disclosing the same information to his employer? No. You weren’t going to let yourself get betrayed. Not again.

Slowly, Jonathan’s hands reached out, almost anxious to touch yours. Then it reminded you, this man took you in when you had nowhere else to turn. He answered your calls at 3 in the morning, both drunk and sober, just because you wanted to talk to someone. He promised that he was different. You were certain he was different. As his hands touched yours, your eyes slowly moved to his, hope in his eyes...only for you to swat his hand away!

“Touch me and I’ll cut off your fingers.” You snapped, causing him to jerk back. “I can’t believe I thought you were hot.”  Q chokes on his cup of tea, in hysterics. “I really need to find a better taste in men.” You mumbled leaving the room. Suddenly, Q’s laughter stopped. Jonathan looked over at Q, visibly angered.

Jonathan followed you into the guest bedroom.

“Look, Y/N, do you not think that any moment we shared together was real? The trips, late night calls? Geneva? Because all of that was more than real to me. Everything I’ve told you about myself, all the time I’ve invested with you has always been real to me.”

You step back, keeping your distance, giving him a round of applause. “Wow, you are incredible! Just an incredible actor! I really don’t understand why your parents discouraged you. You’re better that than an agent.”

“Y/N I have been nothing but honest with you from the beginning. I literally told you I am an agent that works for a different division.”

“Honest?! I don’t even know your last name! Is it even Hicks?”

“You want to go there? Then how come you didn’t tell me you were still married?”

Your mouth instantly shut. Uh oh. “No, no. Now’s not the time to get quiet on me, love.” Jonathan pulled a seat from the desk, to sit in front of you. “I may not have been entitled to know about this but considering we’d grown closer over the months, makes me wonder, were you ever going to tell me that you were still married?”

“I could say the same about your trips to see fucking Swann in Switzerland.”

Jonathan huffs sitting back. “Don’t change the subject. If we’re going to talk honesty, maybe we should first discuss the fact you left me to find out from your husband that you were still married.”

He almost caught you. “I’m still married but we’re planning on divorcing.”

“He’s still hung up on you, you know. Doesn’t want to show it but he is. I know when I see it from a tech nerd.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“But you’re not into him?”

“You have no right in knowing.” You snapped.

“You thought I was hot. I think I should know.” You were about to leave the room but his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your eyes widened and he quickly refrained himself. “At least let’s talk this through.”

You left the room, leaving Jonathan irritated but when you returned, there was a bottle of whiskey in your hand and two glasses. You poured in each one and handed him a glass. “Go on then, start talking.” Boy were you ready to keep the barriers held high for the next man you thought to even glance at.

 “You can’t tell anyone, but I was seeing Dr Swann because a client of hers was trying to find James. He vanished two weeks before, heard my division specialises in finding rogue agents but before you jumped on the plane, I was about to drop a file to the double ‘o’ division. Swann is a problem for another day, I’ve already been keeping tabs on her after claims of suspicious activity. But Longwell? James is involving himself in a problem that involves parliament and I’ve been told I can’t let him get involved. He is too reckless. Any wrong move and we are in an international crisis. Potentially facing war.”

“Longwell is funding for world terrorism. Bond’s been tracking him for the last seven months. That’s why he was in the Bahamas.”

“The Bahamas?” Jonathan suddenly fell quiet.

“You can’t stop him because he makes you uneasy.”

Jonathan seemed off. He started to scratch his head, “This is not my decision, this is coming from head office.”

“So what? You’re just going to arrest him?”

“No. But we need to know his whereabouts because Longwell has been tracking him. If James is found, he dies.”

“How do you know that?”

“Dr Swann. She has been dealing with Longwell, who might I add has been a client of hers over the last eighteen months.”

“So while she’s been seeing James…Longwell and her have been in cahoots.” You mumbled.

“Except she doesn’t know that I’m aware of that.”

Your eyes widen, “Shit. While she’s been keeping you busy, you don’t even know where James is. He’s in trouble. We lost connection with him some time ago. We’ve been trying to get in contact with him ever since but there’s been nothing.”

“Please don’t tell me he’s flown after Longwell.”

You nodded.

“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He finally said.

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (Mikael Blomkvist x Reader) Chpt. 2

“Let’s be professional...”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: The mystery man is now a guest lecturer at your university but while his popularity expands, things remain tense as you remain unimpressed...

[A/N: Another fic in the same week??? I KNOW! So I had no idea the first chapter would be so popular! All I wanted to do was to bring a little piece that would be entertaining but I’m glad to post another chapter at least because I’m interested to see where this dynamic goes too :)) ]

You still froze at the man before you. His eyes still widened as neither of you realised you were still surrounded by students. That was until, of course, he turned back and cleared his throat. He started to talk, maybe it was to introduce himself or talk about the syllabus, you weren’t too sure. What you were certain of, however, was the fact that you failed to pay attention until the end. You could’ve sworn this man was going to have nothing to do with you after this morning. How the hell did he end up in front of you anyway? You were propelled into a cruel joke, and you had no idea how to stop it from getting out of hand. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but for someone with an apparent awful hangover, he was almost as good as you out there with professionalism.

“...Millennium magazine, which is a hit across Scandinavia. I've travelled across the world studying corrupt organisations and organised gang violence in European countries. But like I said, I’m here to help guide you through what could soon become one of your own greatest passions, investigative journalism. Now, from what I know, while Dr Y/N is the head of this module, I will host a lecture fortnightly on Wednesdays and hold my own office hours that same afternoon. However, this is all new to me and I'm sure with help from Dr Y/N and all of you, we can make sure that my presence during this module is worthwhile for everyone. Thank you.” 

The body of students in attendance gave a round of applause as Mikael stepped back and before you knew it, you had to snap out of your thoughts! This man was handsome, charming even to everyone but you could never admit any of this about him. Not in broad daylight. Especially not after the night you shared. The only thing you can admit is that you wanted nothing to do with him. You were sure of it. You don’t know how you were going to manage that but there had to be a way. 

Mikael stepped outside the room with Andrew, barely glancing your direction as his part was done. That left you to finish the lecture on your own, discussing exams and assessments throughout the module as well as a future plan of what the lectures were going to be like. Before you knew it, the lecture was over, and students made their way down filled with excited chatter amongst them for the module they were about to take part in. 

Once the last pupil left, you dropped to your seat. Silence. That’s all you needed. You sipped your coffee but realised you were due for a refill. Praying for your sanity for a moment, you refused to move. This could not be happening. The mystery man - well Mikael as he was no longer a mystery, could not be working on the same module as you! You expected a passionate fling but now you faced the consequences of enjoying yourself. Eventually, you got up and started packing your bag, considering it was your shortest day of the week. At least today was going to be an easy day to get over. No seminars, just one morning lecture. But this was how it was going to be now. You’d have to host a morning lecture with Mikael present, every week. Was he going to be present for ALL your lectures? Or was he going to be one of those lecturers who would only go his days and not turn up? The latter you were incredibly hopeful for. You couldn’t take any more surprises from Andrew. Not anymore. 

 So, you decided to make a pit stop to the department’s lounge on your way to the office. The lounge was filled with staff members, all filling up their teas and coffees, sharing jokes. To your misfortune, however, Andrew stood with Mikael. The newest member of the team already appeared to be popular as he already entertained everyone because staff surrounded him, laughing at his stories. Unluckily for you, the man was a hit. But you rolled your eyes, refusing to register his voice and filled up your coffee at the machine.

“So, yeah I guess that's how I managed to embarrass myself in front of the Duke of Varmland.”

 Everyone laughed once again. One of your co-workers, Clare already leaned into him, her hand on his arm as she appeared comfortable laughing beside him. 

“Stop! Mikael, you’re going to kill me if you keep going!” She laughed again, this time holding his arm tighter. You didn’t want to read his reaction, but you were pretty sure there was hidden alarm in his smile. Those same eyes that stayed on you, even when you weren’t paying attention to him. Just as you finished filling up your drink…

“Uh, Y/N here actually is teaching with our esteemed visitor.” Oh for goodness sake. You turned anyway, giving everyone a wave avoiding Mikael’s eyes. “Yeah. Should be fun.” You knew Mikael was still looking at you but you couldn't make eye contact. Not now, at least.

Andrew started, “Don’t you want to stay here a little longer for a catch-up?”

“Actually, I should head to my office. Still got a bunch of assignments that I need to finish marking.”

This made Andrew laugh. “Of course. Especially after your wild night out, it’s probably for the best.” You froze. He did not just...but Andrew couldn’t have known. He wasn’t there. What you hadn’t noticed was that Mikael had choked on his coffee slightly, his eyes widening. “You have to be more careful next time with these things.”

“Try saying that the next time you have a heavy night out, mate.” You snarkily retorted, causing everyone else to laugh as you left the room.

"Don't mind her, she's always like that." Clare quietly commented, holding Mikael's arm. The man watched on with a frown. 

You entered your office, dropping on your seat. You start to immerse yourself in your work. You don’t know how long it had been but as you moved to the next stack of papers and started to see dotted lines everywhere. You hadn’t realised there were a few knocks on the door. Yet you refused to pay attention to it. You had to get the assignments marked. The door clicked open.

“My office hours start next week. There’s a sign on the door.” You said without looking up from the screen. 

“I was hoping you'd make an exception.” The baritone voice caused you to freeze. “I kind of have to be here.”

“Exceptions are a not so subtle way of demonstrating favouritism. I’m not really for it.” You tried to snap back, turning back to the stack of papers in front of you.

“Alright, then. Well, I apologise in advance if I make any noise with the boxes. Just moving some of my stuff in and I’ll be out of your way.” 

This caused you to spin your chair quickly. “What do you mean moving your stuff?” By the time you took a proper look at him, he was already on the other side of the office with a box of his belongings. You could’ve sworn you had no room in your office. Your eyes followed him and that’s when you noticed something different. When did that get there? Were you that hungover you didn't even see the slightest change in your office? 

“All part of the experience, I was told by Andrew.” The boxes soon forgotten, Mikael turned to you. “He thinks if we’re going to be co-running a module, we should frequently meet, plan lectures and seminars together, that sort of thing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re assisting me. You’re a guest lecturer. I didn’t agree to co-running a module I fought to have the last few years.” Oh you were not happy with this man. You didn’t know whether it was the hangover that made it worse or the sudden burst of your double espresso that had you shaking but your patience wore incredibly thin with this man.

Mikael shook his head, “Well, just know it wasn’t my intention to find myself in this predicament." He mentioned. For a moment, you could see his clear blue eyes lost. He was contemplating something for a while, and then he said, "I think we should probably discuss last night.” Mikael brought a chair round in front of you.

“So what? We can set some boundaries?” You turned back to your papers, refusing to look back at him. You needed a distraction. Any distraction to look away from those eyes.

“Can I make a quick observation-” He started.

“No.” You quickly interrupted, yet it was obvious he was going to continue anyway.

“You’re not as nice when you don’t have five tequilas in front of you.” He sharply snapped.

“Well, I didn’t realise that I’d be forced to work with a one night stand on my passion project, the next day. I have no problem remaining professional. So, you can either turn up to the lectures that you are running or you can leave now and I’ll run the whole module myself. Either way, we are away from each other.”

“You know I’m not picking either option. I may be a guest lecturer but we’re still teaching the same students. I think it is highly unprofessional to hinder their experience just because of the discretions you may have against me.”

Your mouth dropped. “You want to question me on professionalism? Is THAT what you’re saying?” Red. That’s all you could see. Red. He had to stop talking. Now.

“You know what? Forget about what I just said.”

“That’s what I thought.” You retorted. “I think it’s best if we pretend as if last night never even happened and we stay out of each other’s way. 

Mikael wanted to protest but he wasn’t prepared to say anything else. At first he did feel sorry for you. Then he saw your true colours. You weren’t like this at three in the morning, cosying up in the comfort of his arms in his bedroom. He didn’t want to doubt himself, of course, he was smitten by you the night before. But that must have been the alcohol. There was absolutely no way he could have been attracted to you without it. He certainly wasn’t going to tolerate any disrespect, that was for sure.

“You know what? I’m way ahead of you. In fact, I’m going to see if I can get a different office just so we're out of each other's way...and I don’t feel the arrogance seeping in from being around you Ms Y/L/N.”

You snapped your head up quickly, “Actually, I’m a Doctor. Don’t know why you’re deciding to get it wrong now, Mr Blomkvist but for the sake of work, I hope that gets sorted.”

He muttered something under his breath and you snapped your head up but by the time you could respond the door slammed shut. 

What he hadn’t heard was the frustrated sigh that left your lips as he disappeared. Of course he was attractive in broad daylight, dressed in smart-casual clothing yet his hair was left a mess. You didn’t want to pay attention to the way his glasses loosely hung over his face or his smooth voice filling the room – considering you heard it all raspy in the middle of the night before, you couldn’t let it fool you. Work and pleasure was something you didn’t mix and as long as you were working here, you would not allow Mikael to indulge in the latter. You would not give him the opportunity to remember the night you had. 

Once you finished marking more assignments, you decided to call it a day and head home. It was 6.00 pm so you were most likely one of the last few people in the building. As you made your way to the car, you found Mikael stood outside his car invested in a conversation with someone. When you took another look, you realised it was Clare. In all her glory, she was overly flirtatious with him, which made you roll your eyes. Mikael seemed to be enjoying her company as he laughed at something she said. But when he looked up and noticed you, his smile faded slightly. 

October continued to be overwhelmed with downpour. Finally making it home, you changed into a comfortable pair of joggers and a baggy shirt. You had a bottle of cider from the fridge on the ready and turned on the television. You still couldn't believe the hilarity of the situation. Mikael was actually going to be working with you...and all you had asked for was a fun night with that mystery blonde and to never see him again. But now he was a part of your daily life and it irked you. While a movie was on in the background, your phone pinged. As often you couldn’t separate yourself from your job, you knew it was your work email notifying you. Usually, you would shut off, but you were surprised to already see an email with you cc’d into the subject titled: ‘Monday’s Lecture’…and who else to title it, none other than your colleague Mr Blomkvist himself. 

-

Dear class, 

For next Monday's lesson, I will be teaching you on the press surrounding the Assassination of former Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme. As this is a sensitive subject, if anyone has any concerns they would like to disclose, please feel free to email me and I will get back to you as soon as possible. I have attached the readings for the lecture in this email and further reading recommendations will be uploaded online tonight. I expect all of you to come prepared as this will be interactive and beneficial to all of you. Look forward to seeing you soon! 

Best, 

Mikael Blomkvist

 Co-Owner, Millennium Magazine

-

You dropped your phone! Shit! That was what you had planned for a first lesson. Maybe teaching this module was going to be WAY more difficult than you thought without communication. With that, you downed your cider a lot quicker than intended, trying to calm yourself down…

[mrdanielbond]

Cabin in the Woods (Mikael Blomkvist x Reader)

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist x Reader (See author’s note!)

Plot: With the pressures of work getting to you, a retreat is in order but when the isolation starts to get to you, you end up going for a little wander and meeting a stranger.

[A/N: Finally, it’s here! I’m not sure if this might be ANOTHER series? Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? In all fairness, this is my favourite non-Bond Daniel character so I thought it’s time to appreciate Mikael in all his glory. Also I found myself listening to Runaway by Aurora and You Would Have to Lose Your Mind by the Barr Brothers to get reinspired into finishing this! These are great mood setters! Also a masterlist will be released soon. I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Little mentions of mental health, swearing, nothing major :)) ]

Two weeks. That’s what you were given for a retreat. Not necessarily ‘given’, you essentially backed your manager into a corner and requested the break that was promised yet long overdue. So you chose to go to escape to the little isolated woodland, miles away in Northern Sweden - Kiruna.  You weren’t specific as to why you chose the small town, you just wanted to save your mental health. The dreary offices in Central London wore you down. This was a last resort. Once you arrived in Stockholm, you took a day’s worth of rest, knowing the next day of travel was going to be treacherous. Boarding the train from the Swedish capital, you hadn’t realised the several train journeys would take so much out of you. On the final train, you managed to sit beside the window, admiring the white blankets of snow that filled the plains, heading towards Kiruna. The natural green lights that gleamed in the midnight blue sky. The wildlife had even been breath-taking. You never felt so connected - at one even, with nature, simply by looking through a window. You started to notice, less and less people boarded the trains the further north you travelled. Now, there were a few couples and families, all seemingly locals. A man sat across you, immersing himself in work, scribbling on his notepad. You felt bad for him. The whole point of coming this far was to get away. Not throw yourself into the deep end.

Upon your arrival, you opted for a cosy little cabin, which was incredible by your standards considering it was the only thing you could afford at such a short notice. This is what you needed. Solitude. As a writer, the pressures from working only started to build when deadlines were given and after not knowing what it was like to take a break after your first promotion, things started to get out of hand. Your publishers needed you to meet deadlines, so did your agents...and so did your readers. So you thought, fuck it. You needed to run far away. Get out...and this was the place you had in mind.

Now here you were, staring out at the view of nature’s beauties before you as you typed away on your next novel from your bedroom. This was bliss. Why wouldn’t it be? The sounds of people dashing past you all the time, surrounded by telephones ringing around you, your publishers and editors constantly asking for new updates was eliminated by the sweet sounds of birds tweeting and sometimes silence. Except, the only words you typed on the page were the titles of chapters. After five days in, the silence became unsettling. You struggled to find the inspiration you crave. You were fed up with walking miles or paying extra money to have food delivered to you and let’s be honest - your rustic cabin had been difficult to turn cosy from the first day. You heavily invested in blankets but having a working fireplace would have been nice considering Swedish winters could be brutal. The very same place you retreated to put yourself at ease, soon did the exact opposite.

Right now, enough was enough. You were no longer going to trap yourself inside. If the inspiration wasn't going to come to you - then you were going to find it. You had to find a shop to go to, at least something around to keep you entertained. Now thinking about it, finding a place to get firewood and groceries on foot wouldn’t be so bad. So, you put on your coat, and left the cabin. It was 3 pm and what you hadn’t realised was that the sun was already starting to set. A chilling breeze lingered within the woodland, reaching you. If only you had been smart enough to buy gloves. You continued to internally chide yourself for not doing your research on the area you lived in. Swedish winters. You thought once again.

For the first twenty minutes, there’s nothing but trees. Nothing special. To be honest, you could’ve sworn you had been walking in circles. Then you hear a shuffle. Suddenly, you freeze. There was no sign of human life anywhere near you...so what on earth was that? Then you hear it again.

You quickly turn around. Nothing. Alright, maybe you should’ve left the cabin with at least something to defend yourself. You continued to curse yourself for not stepping out IN THE WOODS with any defences. Then you hear...

“Fuck!”

A man’s voice not so far from you continues to curse, followed by silence. You had to find out where this voice was from. At least there could be someone to talk to! But what if he was a killer? What if he was armed and dangerous? As you took steps back, “Are you lost?”

That same baritone voice said, this time sounding a lot closer. You jump, trying to find the source, then see a handsome man with dirty blonde hair, cropped short, on the top of the hill with a cigarette in his mouth. Unlike you, his clothes were suitable for hiking and such. Maybe he lived here. Though you could tell he wasn’t a local. His accent sounded a lot closer to home. Is that why he looked so familiar? “Excuse me? You there?” He said, this time moving closer. He noticed your panicked state and stopped moving.

“Um-” Words failed - but why would they? He was just a man - with steel blue eyes, catching you in some sort of trance. Then you realise he’s a lot closer than you think, trying to get your attention.

“Sorry, uh, you know where I can find the nearest shop?”

The man laughed, lines raising on his forehead as he took a drag. You couldn’t help but feel offended by that. Yet, he still looked very familiar and you couldn’t tell how.  “Nearest shop is miles away from here. In fact, the direction you were heading is moving further and further away.”

“Great. Just what I needed to hear.” Now this was embarrassing. You were expecting this man to make you uncomfortable but he kept his distance, respectfully. “Thanks, anyway.”

You turned prepared to leave when, “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“You could say that.” You had every right to be standoffish. You were in the woods with a stranger. All horror stories started this way. “You from here?”

The man shakes his head, “No. A friend of mine is lending me his place for work. ” He watched you fiddle with your hands uncomfortably. “How badly do you need to go shopping?”

“Well I can’t have another day living off lukewarm beer and stale bread.” You mumbled.

This time, his laugh struck something within you. Maybe it was because once you got a full look at him, you realised you may have been attracted to him. His voice, his laughter, was like music to your ears. But then again, that’s how all stories with serial killers started. Your light hearted but sad truth caused him to grin from ear to ear. “Alright, so the bad news is you’re not going to find a supermarket before nightfall at least. Lucky for you though, I did a grocery shop this morning and could give you some of my things so at least you wouldn’t have to starve another night.”

“Really? You would do that?” You shouldn’t trust the man, you really shouldn’t be trusting ANY stranger you meet in the woods. But you really did have enough of trying to imagine stale bread tasting of the food you craved. He nodded with enthusiasm.

“My place isn’t that far...and I see that look in your eyes. I know how bad that sounds. I realised you might want to do a background check on me.”

“It’s probably for the best. I need to know who I’m sending a set of clues to the Swedish authorities first.”

He laughs again. You wanted to be serious but his laughter warmed you. “You’re a funny one, aren’t you?”

“I’d like to think I’m the source of my own entertainment.” To that, Mikael nodded. He took another drag and offered you his cigarette. “Name.” Was all you said, waving off the cigarette.

“Blomkvist. Mikael Blomkvist.” He finally said, his hand reached out to you to shake. “And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” You were still reluctant but inclined to accept his hand. “Y/N, Y/L/N.”

He repeated your name with a smile, nodding. “Well it’s a pleasure.” Your hands lingered for a much longer time than they should have. For a man who you expected to kill you on the spot, he was incredibly polite. He dropped his cigarette on the floor and crushed it, pointing to the direction of his place. Like you, he also seemed like an exhausted man, trying to get away at least from something.

You didn’t hesitate, only followed. You hardly even made small talk on the way, just admired the views around you. Then you reached a cabin. This man had to be well-off to be in the place he was. It was a much larger cabin, brighter lights, incredibly beautiful. It was the aesthetic that you saw yourself immersing in if you had the money. He opened the door for you, letting you in first and you managed to get a hint of his cologne. Really? In the woods? Was all you should ask, but instead you were more drawn to the handsome stranger. 

As you reached the living room, this felt a lot warmer than your place. He had papers scattered all over the tables, plates and glasses everywhere. The place felt lived in. No matter how messy it was, you could tell he used every inch of the space around him. The number of books on the table caught you off guard, however. You expected at least a hunting rifle propped against the side with logs of wood. You didn’t realise you muttered that part aloud, earning  a small chuckle from him.

“I don’t like guns.” He mentioned, patting your arm as he made his way to the table. If only your coat hadn’t been in the way, you were sure there would’ve been sparks. He quickly realised the plates and glasses were stacked and frantically placed them in the sink. Oh how you wish you could help him handle it.

“Nice place.”

“Excuse the mess, I don’t usually expect company.” He quickly answered, then trying to push the papers on the sofa aside for you to sit down on.

“That wasn’t sarcasm. You should see my place. It’s horrendous.”

He lets out an amused hum. “Before I grab the things from the fridge, would you like anything to drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?” His hand was out in the open, ready to take your jacket. While you usually would refuse, somehow you obliged and felt exposed giving it to him. The eyes, while seeming as though they were polite, there was a hint of a power play. You were in his home. You played by his rules. He walked towards the rack and took his coat off, revealing an open dark blue shirt.

“If you’re offering, I’ll take a tea please.” 

“My pleasure.” Mikael winked headed towards the counter, actually excited to make you a drink. God knows why his reading glasses were beside the kettle but as he put them on that’s when it hit you. He was the man from the train. He busied himself with work here too! The realisation hit you but you tried to keep as subtle as possible once he finished making the tea.

“So you said your friend lent you the place?” You asked, sitting comfortably on the sofa. He returned with two drinks and sat at arms length from you, offering your drink. He nodded. “What do you do?” You prodded. How had the man become short of words so quickly.

“I’m a journalist.” This intrigued you. He seemed proud telling you such and while he sipped his hot beverage, you were able to trace the lines of his physique. A wonderful one to admire indeed. “Have my own publication.”

“Millenium.” You mentioned. Of course you knew him. He took down Wennerstrom. This man was famous to you. A small smirk pried on his lips.

“Yeah, back in Stockholm, which is where you should be.”

“And why’s that?”

“It’s popular with tourists.”

It was your turn to laugh, “You’re the funny one.” He smiled, proud but as his smile slowly faded, you could tell the look in his eyes felt somewhat intense. Your core really did seem to burn at the sight of the attractive man. You hadn’t registered what he was saying because he leant forward expectantly waiting.

“Sorry? What?” God! You had to stop staring at him.

He let out a deep chuckle, as if he knew what he was doing to you. It felt as though he undressed you with his eyes. He leaned back further and reached his arm over the sofa, so it was close enough to you. His legs spread wider. Uh oh. He oozed a subtle confidence and it terrified you. This man could have you on his lap in seconds if he wanted to. But he didn’t need to know that. “Getting flustered are we?” He winked.

You rolled your eyes and playfully swatted his hand away. “Answer my question.”

“Not until you answer mine first. I asked, what do you do?” He says with his slightly rough voice, which to you oozes like honey.

“I’m a writer, on a little retreat.” Just like that, his interest peaked. As if he was trying to work something out. While the man was busying himself with other thoughts, you noticed how focused his was. The way his glasses stuck to his head. His ruffled short hair. The small chain that hung loosely around his neck, hidden behind his shirt.

“Hang on. Fiction or non fiction?”

“Fiction. I’m a sucker for crime novels.”

Then his eyes lit up, “ Really? You don’t say! The Lost Sons. That was you.” And he leaned towards you, close enough to make your breath hitch. “I knew your name sounded familiar. Huge fan. I always thought you were writing a trilogy but heard you stopped at two books.”

How did he...the more he spoke to you, about his passion for your work, the more you leaned towards this stranger. This was dangerous. “Actually, I’m here writing the final book. I needed to get away from the office.”

Mikael nodded, turning his body fully to you. He liked his lips for a moment, deep in thought again. His hand was a few short centimetres from you, lingering once again. Power play. It had to be. He owned most of the sofa now and you let him. “I know you’re running short on time but I’m really interested in your work. Maybe you can indulge me. Just for a little while longer. Please.” Oh while his words were polite, his eyes were saying something else.

To be continued?

[mrdanielbond]

Arrested Development - Benoit Blanc x Reader (Chpt. One)

Plot: After a drunken incident at a party, you are taken in for questioning. However, things are not as light hearted as they seem. The detective on the case? None other than Benoit Blanc.

[A/N:  Hey again! Guess who’s back with another story! So this was fun to write, gave myself a short space of time to do it and because I don’t appreciate Blanc enough as openly as I should do. Hope you all enjoy this story! I have to say I love a sassy main character that matches Daniel’s characters. There will be a lot of typos, I'm aware but I did this to challenge myself and I think this went well?]

Twelve hours. That was how long you spent inside that godforsaken cell. If you had sobered up a little more, you were sure to be stressed given your current predicament. However, there was no chance for that for a while. You were still dazed, a mild hangover kicking in, all you wanted to do was go home. No one said a word about the incident in question. Hell, the only thing you noticed was that five people were taken into custody at the same time as you...and there was screaming. An awful lot of screaming. You stared at the dreary, grim walls before you, trying to find something to distract you. Anything. If you spent another five minutes listening to water leaking from one of the pipes across you, you were certain you were certain you would burst it as some form of entertainment. Knowing you, it was probably a drunk and disorderly arrest. A slap on the wrist and maybe you would have your fine paid in no time. Not that this was ideal for you.

It was at that moment you heard footsteps. Ones that sounded all too loud, rattling against your head. A police officer opened the hatch to your cell door and you moved forward a little too quickly for your liking. “Stand back from the door, hands where I can see them.” Her hostility was heard through the other side. Slowly, you moved back with your hands in the air. This seemed odd. When one of your friends had described being arrested on drunk and disorderly conduct, they never mentioned the officers at work becoming so hostile. “I am being released, aren’t I?” You tried to get a word out of the officer but they simply stood inside. “Turn around with your hands behind your back.” Your eyebrows raised. There was something about this that seemed incredibly off. The officer stepped behind you and you could feel your wrists tightening, clicks of handcuffs. Yet you kept quiet, unable to register what you were about to walk into. “Move.” The officer said. “Hang on. Where am I going?” You finally snapped back. “I said move.” The officer now said nudging you out of your cell. Okay, so this officer was clearly prick. But all you thought was once you were out of the station you would go home and get your hangover sorted with a nice hot vanilla latte….

Except that didn’t happen. You turned away from the exit, walking further into the station and towards an isolated room. That’s when you stopped walking in your tracks. Irritating the officer even more. “Listen, I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me where I’m going and I don’t care if you want to trap me in another bloody room. I’m going home. ” Okay now you were starting to internally freak out. But externally, you held your ground, refusing to move. The officer glared at you.

Suddenly, another officer appeared. “Is there a problem here?” He asked. “Looks like we have a stubborn one.” She responded. That was when you were HOISTED by your arms. You tried to kick your way out of their grasp but damn the restraints, they ruined you. “Get off me! I want to go home!” You protested but it was no use. Once you reached the door, the two officers carried you to your chair, leaving your hands tied to the leg of the table. The door slammed shut before you could get a word out. Lord, how you wanted to headbutt those smug officers. Slowly, you looked around the room and you recognised this from all the crime dramas you spent your evenings watching. You were in an interrogation room. But why?

After a while of panicking once again, being left alone with your thoughts (which innocently started off as a reminder to pick up your dog from the neighbours to suddenly, what you had done the night before to be left in the station overnight) the door slowly opened.

Two people entered the room, sitting across from you. A woman, brunette, mid 40s in a dark pan-suit that clung onto her slim figure. The man to follow closely behind was an older man, late 40s or even early 50s, with dirt blonde hair. He had a stubble, parts of it patched with grey but it grew to the perfect amount. Thick rimmed glasses and a vintage suit that hid beneath his dark brown overcoat. Unlike the woman, he bore no police badge or sign to show he was the police. If anything he was someone in the background. And you couldn't lie to yourself, there was something about him that was alluring. The older gentleman with steel blue eyes gave you a ‘cool, silent, mysterious’ aura about him.

The lady dropped the file on the table, looking at you then down at the paper. You decided to play it cool, considering you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the handsome man and leaned back in your seat. “Good Afternoon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N.” “Nothing good about this afternoon.” You retorted. This caused the older man to lift the corner of his lip with a small smirk, while the lady did not look impressed. “How’s the hangover?” You didn’t say anything. Just scowled at her. God this woman was already getting on your nerves. She knew what you were playing at already. So with that, she turned to the tape and turned it on. A loud buzz filled the room. “My name is Detective Inspector Rosie Turner. This gentleman over here is Detective Benoit Blanc. Here with us is Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Can you please state your date of birth for the record please?” “Isn’t it rude to ask for someone’s age?” Your eyes squinted, if you were going to be charged for drunk and disorderly conduct, you might as well have fun with it. “For the tape, Miss Y/L/N is refusing to state her date of birth which is…” As she stated it, you couldn’t help but feel the man known as Benoit’s eyes bore into you. It felt intense. Why did it feel intense? “Proves I’m a lot younger than you, I guess.” You snapped back. “Immaturity levels are the best way to assume one’s age anyway.” Rosie quickly said, turning back to the file. “So Miss Y/L/N, do you know why you’re here?” “School trip to the station? I don’t know. Have you got any paracetamol?” “The answer is no and we will especially not be administering any drugs of any kind to you.” She answered. “Well that’s just rude.” “Miss Y/L/N, you were at the party held by one, Henry Wong last night?” Okay, well now you were just confused. “Yeah.” “And what’s your relationship with Henry?” If there was one thing you learned, you didn’t want to sound incriminating. There was only one answer to give... “No comment.” “Did you have any form of relationship with one Mr William Parks?” “No comment.” Rosie’s eyebrows raised but you looked back at her with suspicion. What was she playing at? And so she leaned forward in her seat, rolling her eyes, knowing that you were going to be a problem for her. “Miss Y/L/N, are you aware that from this point onwards anything you say or do will be later used as evidence and relied on in court?” Your lips kept sealed. “William Parks was an accountant, around about five years older than you. Did incredibly well for himself in the business. His father Earl Parks owns a chain of gentleman’s clubs across the UK. William has been friends with Henry Wong back in their days at Glasgow University. Any of that ring a bell?” She got nothing from you.

The older gentleman across you seemed entertained by your presence. It was as though he tried to read you but kept up another certain interest. You hadn’t felt yourself being this analysed - close to being uncovered by a man’s eyes from a distance - ever. “Did you attend the party last night with Mr Parks?” “No comment.” This time you had the courage to look over to him. “Did you or did you not assault Mr Parks on the night of November 31st?” “No comment.” “This is serious.” “Can I call my lawyer?” You bit back at her. God she was annoying. That was when the older gentleman pulled Rosie aside, seeing her patience wear incredibly thin. “Do you mind leaving us alone for a couple of seconds? I want to try somethin.” He whispered quiet enough for you not to hear. “This is a bad idea, Blanc. She’s a handful for us and we haven’t even gotten into the line of enquiry properly yet!” “Just trust me on this. Alright?” He said, his smooth southern accent providing him with a bit of a silver tongue to ease the situation. And it did. Rosie’s shoulders loosened as she looked towards the door. “You better sort this out or we’re doing things my way.” “Scouts honour, Ma’am.” He said with a hand on his chest.

You couldn’t make out what was going on, but the annoying female detective had left the room...now you were alone with Benoit Blanc. The man who looked like he called a night of fun smoking cigars with a glass of scotch beside him and a book in hand - maybe even a western playing in the background. God, the irony. You were in handcuffs, this man stood above you and all you wanted him to do was take you on the table - no! No. You tried stopping yourself from having sinful thoughts about this poor man who was probably only hired as a supervisor to watch you misbehave. But whatever he did to ease his way into getting Rosie to leave, you were sure he could use such a skilled tongue on y- nope! You had to shake out of your thoughts...no matter how close he was. Even with the way he watched your every move.

What you hadn’t noticed though was this dashing sleuth had a southern touch to him and god he was hot...until he opened his mouth. "So, Miss Y/L/N." "Oh my god. That accent." Your eyes widen. “It takes a while to grow on people. My mama always said like honey, once you get a little taste you can’t get enough of it.” He had a point. His baritone voice really soothed you...just why did it have to be THAT accent? "I didn't do anything." You slowly managed to mutter. “And you should tell your stuck up colleague to do one. I’m not talking to here.” "Alright, little lady." He took off his jacket slowly, and you were able to see more of HIM. His well tailored suit, his immaculate build. And then he crouched before you. It caused your breath to hitch for a moment. “I understand being in a cell with a hangover sounding like everything we do is blowin up a storm but I’m trying to help you out here. I need you to comply with me so we can make things easier - for the both of us.” Oh. Good cop, bad cop. Typical crime drama convention. "Excuse me? Don't patronise me with your redneck, lawn shooting, sweet home Alabama bullshit. Can I just go home now?" Benoit chuckles. His laugh radiates the room, unsettling you - especially with a voice as deep as his. "Most women would say I've got quite the soft touch with the tongue too." "Yeah it actually sounds horrific." No it didn't. "I can't take you seriously." Oh how you really did take him seriously though. He leaned forward, looking into your eyes. A silence between you lingered. You were able to trace the lines of his perfect stubble with your eyes, the small wrinkles across his forehead. You still somehow felt that intensity. A burning desire for him inside you. Then he got up, walking casually back over to his seat, as though nothing happened. You managed to let go the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “Do you know what you’re being charged with?” He finally said. “Drunk and disorderly conduct.” He shakes his head. “Miss Y/L/N, it would appear you engaged in the most inexplicable foul play. You’re being charged with murder. That accountant William Parks is dead and by god, this has your paws written all over it.” And just like that...your world came crashing down...

[mrdanielbond]

Just got a great question about the bond’s new flatmate series! Yes I’ve got 2 new chapters written but I’ve had a nightmare trying to re-edit and post them! Also Wild Hearts has a new couple of chapters too! So look out for a spam of posts in the next few days on here as I’ve been posting mainly on AO3. There will also be a masterlist update coming up soon bc my stories are all over the place at the moment!

- Much love x

[mrdanielbond]

So I have seen No time to die twice and I’m aware there has been a surge in popularity for the bonds new flatmate story, which I can garuntee I have been working on and have two new chapters ready for release! I just wanted to say to UK fans PLEASE DONT SPOIL IT and as I promise there’s more CRAZY STUFF to from bond and the reader!!!

[mrdanielbond]

Wild Nights, Wild Hearts (One-Shot?)

“Mystery man”

[Main characters: Mikael Blomkvist X Reader]

Plot: It is time to head back to work as a lecturer at your university after a successful first semester. Unfortunately for you, one of your guest lecturers is a familiar face from a wild night out…

[A/N: Wrote this ages ago and thought, hey why not? Okay, so I don’t know if this is going to be an actual thing. Like I assume it’s going to be a one-shot. Plus, in all fairness, Mikael is my favourite non-Bond character of Daniel’s, so I thought it’s time to appreciate this man in all his glory. I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think?]

Music continued to boom through the speakers. The flashing lights and smoke was intense, but you didn’t care. As long as you were still with your friends, celebrating a birthday amongst the group, that's all that mattered. What also helped was the fact your sultry look managed to get you quite a few free drinks from the bartender. You weren’t used to this kind of attention, often keeping a natural look. However, this was your friend and co-worker’s birthday. You wanted to spice things up and look incredible for her. Of course, when Maisie saw you for the first time, she was surprised. In fact, her jaw dropped at how glamorous you looked. “Girl what the HELL! After Florence Pugh, you are a woman I’d proudly fuck.” You remember her particularly saying and that was the start of an incredibly wild night.

“Javier, can I get another tequila please!” You scream with excitement at the bar, Javier proudly pours you your sixth tequila shot.

“This one’s on the house my darling,  Y/N.” He pushed the shot glass in front of you and your eyes widen with excitement. You had to admit, you do have a thing for tequila so this man feeding you free drinks made the night all the better.

“You spoil me.” You winked as you took the shot and walked off to join the rest of your friends.

The night followed with more dancing and more drinks between your friends. At some point on the floor, you started to get tired and your craving for more drinks kicked in because you found yourself at the bar once again. This time you were looking for something more than a shot. “Okay, so it’s like a sex on the beach but like so much fruiter, like with strawberries!” You tried to explain but in your drunken state, Javier couldn’t help but laugh as he struggled listening to you.

“You know what? You tell me what to do and I’ll make it for you.” He said and a devious grin appeared on your face. So you watched, instructing him on how to make your special cocktail and when he finished, he threw a small umbrella inside it to serve you. You sipped it and couldn’t help but moan. It was glorious...Well maybe it would’ve been if you could taste it at all.

“Can I have what she’s having?” A baritone voice said beside you. You turned with your eyebrow raised. “And I’ll pay for hers.”

He reached into his wallet, still looking into your eyes as he handed Javier his card. You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol or the fact you were practically pushed against each other with how packed the bar was but this man was...incredibly handsome. Rugged dirt blonde hair, bright blue eyes that gave you butterflies and his dark blue shirt didn’t help as you couldn’t help but stare at his chest from time to time. Javier turned back to make your drink for the stranger and handed it over to him. “If you’re going to have a cocktail, you’ve got to get it right. Strawberries with the ice.” He said with a smirk but you couldn’t hear him. Not with the music blasting over you...and his dreamy eyes. “What?” You tried to shout out. “I said-” He could barely get a word out in all the noise and you could see it. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to a quieter table in the corner. “That’s better - wow.” He suddenly stopped himself when he took another look at you. “You’re really beautiful.” “Smooth.” You chuckled. Alright, so at this point, usually you would say thanks and dip to find your friends. However, this man, bless him, appeared mesmerized by you. He was in awe of you and not just looking at your chest or your figure as though he were some creep. You both hadn’t realised you were still holding hands, leaning into each other.

“Hey, that’s unfair! I’m not usually bold with women.” Something about the mystery man was telling you he was honest. “The strong and silent type is full of surprises.” He said and you swear to god, you could see even he knew what he was doing with that statement. To be honest, he was right. With those eyes, he wouldn’t have to say a single word to get you to go home with him. Throughout the night, you both kept rambling to each other about everything and nothing but you were both having fun, laughing together and putting each other at ease. Your friends must’ve noticed you because they were all staring at the two of you in awe, sharing drinks together, leaning into each other. Then ‘Someone New’ by Hozier began to play. Oh no. Any slow song that played while you were next to a man was a recipe for disaster. The mystery man ,on his high, pulled you closer. “Oh no, I can’t go out there!” You said. “Come on, what happened to that confidence I saw earlier?!” He laughed. “Listen, I can pick and choose when I want to be brave!” You snapped back. “Why are you so bold all of a sudden?!” “What can I say? You bring out a new side to me.” He laughed and before you could fight back, he managed to bring you to the floor. You couldn’t tell him why this was a bad idea but...maybe it wasn’t now you were in his arms, moving around the floor. He held you close and you didn’t want to leave. Not with the high of the drinks and after such a good night filled with laughter. Who knows? Maybe when you wake up the next day, you’d regret it. But for now, you were going to appreciate being here with him...but now you were filled with anticipation, you were craving something. Uh oh. You were craving him. Suddenly, a surge of confidence filled you and you looked up at him. He had already been looking at you. Quickly, he leaned in and you found yourselves kissing with a raw, fiery passion that remained unmatched. You could tell how much he wanted you. In fact, you could feel it as he pressed you against him. But you didn’t care. You ran your fingers through his hair, now the heated kiss becoming lazy until you bit his lip, catching him by surprise. When you pulled back breathlessly, he smirked. “Oh shut up, I know what you’re going to say.” You playfully pushed his chest.

The hangover the next day was going to be ridiculous but you didn’t care. The mystery man had you all over him, and he? All over you.

Rain violently bounced against the wall of your office. Across you sat Maisie, who happened to be an English lecturer. You were one of the lecturers, who had just finished your PHD in Media and Cultural Studies and when offered a job at the university, you couldn’t help yourself but stay. It was decent pay after all and after three years with the university, you realised your students loved you. There were wild lecturers in the school of arts department, who overshared and gladly you weren’t one of them but your students knew you well enough to seem relatable. However, you were hoping that today they would not quiz you on your hangover. Especially your seminar classes, they really loved hearing whatever you went through. Right now, you sat at the table, head against the desk of your office while Maisie watched you groan. “Oh my god.” Was all you could mumble. This was not how you wanted to spend your first week back of the second semester. Your head was pounding violently, you were nauseous, stomach turning. The only thing saving you was the cup of coffee you had in hand, after being forced to take an espresso shot, you were still practically dead. Maisie simply sat there shaking her head. God, she had no right to judge you after goading you into going out. “You should have known not to go hard on the drinks!” “But...free…” The words fell from your lips. “Javier gives free drinks all the time, I’m surprised it doesn’t get him fired. You should’ve known, he did this last time. Actually, that reminds me, where did you go last night?” And then you remembered. You went off with a mystery man, an incredibly handsome mystery man. That, you were fortunate enough to remember. With your head against the table, you smirked, so your friend wouldn’t see. “Don’t pretend as if we didn’t see you walking off and kissing that man, who by the way is a huge score! We spent all night fangirling about him.” Maisie said with excitement but all you could do was groan again, “Come on! You have to tell me! What happened?” “Nothing happened.” You mumbled into your arms. Okay something happened but you still didn’t want to say anything. “Don’t lie to me! You have to tell me, it was my birthday, meaning you have to tell me what YOU did on my day!”

You still refused to move. As your knight in shining armour, the Head of Faculty, Andrew stormed into the room, coffee mug and binder in hand. “Right! Who’s ready for a day full of learning ladies!” Maisie laughed as all you could let out was a groan. “Oh, not you too!” He let out an irritated huff. “This is ridiculous. Seems like there’s a lot of hangovers going around this morning.” “Really?” Maisie said, leaning forward with excitement. “Yeah, I just got off the phone with the guest lecturer. He is bloody hungover too. Could hear it in his voice.” Shit. Guest lecturer. One of the senior lecturers decided to go on a research leave mid-year, which didn’t help your cause as you were left with over one hundred students needing attention. That is when the head of faculty, Andrew, who you adored, decided to call in a guest lecturer, an industry expert in the field to provide you with support. Only thing is, Andrew was unpredictable, so you didn’t know who he had in store. You only knew he was a pretty popular journalist in Europe. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting him before the class? “He said he’s going to be running late.” Thank god for that. You didn’t need Andrew screaming at you about representing the university under a negative light. Before Andrew could get to scolding you, however, your alarm went off. Swiftly, you jumped up and swiped all your folders. “Class! Got to get to class!” Was all you could muster before leaving the room, and your colleagues, incredibly shocked.

Students filled the lecture hall for the first lesson of the semester, which didn’t surprise you. There were a lot of familiar faces as usual. A couple of new ones but most of the students knew when you were out of it and these were the ones present. Andrew followed you in, watching intently, hoping you wouldn’t screw this up. But everyone knew the rules. The moment your mug was placed against the desk, everyone was silent, eagerly listening to hear from you. “Morning everyone! Welcome back, I hope you have all had a wonderful Christmas break! Just know that for many of you who took my module last year, yes, I am currently in the process of grading your assignments and the results will be distributed next week. However, I am not here to talk about that. Right now, it is time to turn over a new page! So, for those of you that don’t know me, I am Dr. Y/N Y/LN. I am totally cool without the whole formal title and I am a lecturer in Media and Cultural studies and welcome to my module Introduction to Investigative Journalism. This is where we’ll be in touch with some of the world’s most notorious cases from the role investigative journalism played in the portrayal of criminals from the likes of Charles Ponzi, Pablo Escobar, Charles Bronson to female serial killers such as Velma Barfield and Judy Buenoano. We will be looking at cold cases such as the murder of Olof Palme to the story of D.B. Cooper and corruption amongst transnational and multinational companies such as the fall of Wennerstrom. I know this feels like a criminology course and having the stomach would be ideal, however this is incredibly interesting if you want to look into serious crimes and learn about political corruption. I mean I didn’t have the stomach at first but you learn to live with it.” The students laughed. Andrew was in awe of how professional you managed to be but then again that is why the university needed you. They knew you were the young voice they needed to liven things up and get students intrigued, no matter how hungover or ill you were. “ Now, as you know, Dr. Woodbridge has taken a research leave so today, I believe that Andrew has called in a guest lecturer who will be here throughout the second half of the module to provide support and as an industry expert will hopefully be able to answer the questions you all will have.”

Andrew stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear as he headed to the centre. He gave you a wink to praise the way you pulled yourself together and turned to the rest of the class. “Thank you very much, Y/N. Couldn’t have introduced the module better myself, you have me excited and I’m not even taking it! Anyway, without further ado, I am honoured to introduce to you all your guest lecturer today, he is an investigative journalist and co-owner of Swedish magazine, Millennium, Mikael Blomkvist!” The class gave an applause and so did you as the man walked through the door. Then your applause slowed...hang on a minute. Why did the name Mikael sound familiar? Mikael walked in with a smile, waving at the glass, sporting glasses and a warm cardigan, smiling but then he turned to you and then it hit you. This was YOUR mystery man!

[mrdanielbond]

Okay for TGWTDT stans, I wrote a fic with Mikael Blomkvist called ‘Cabin in the Woods’ a while back (you can probs guess what it’s about) but didn’t post it and now I’m like...MAYBE THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW I APPRECIATE THIS MAN AS MIKAEL

[mrdanielbond]

Announcement: Bond’s New Flatmate (Chapter 16) is out now!

[Main characters: James Bond x Reader (See author’s note!)

Plot: After losing connection with Bond, the reader and Eve are left to pick up the pieces of a challenging puzzle...

[A/N: After an incredibly eventful year it is finally here! The next addition to Bond’s New Flatmate! I don’t know who is still reading but yikes I have a lot of Kudos and comments I wish I could get through! I am so sorry if I haven’t been able to respond to them, from now on I will be on it and I love to see people finding humour in this story! No Jonathan in this chapter but a lot more action to come and watching the reader’s mind at work! I also apologise for the amount of promises made in terms of updates and time, a lot has happened since then but I’ll try and upload when I can! I’ve not given up on this story just yet!]

Link to the full chapter (On AO3):

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790765/chapters/82223395

[Recap:] “I don’t think someone from the MI6 would tip Longwell. Bond was very discreet about this.” “Well I think you can hazard a guess as to who did though.” Eve turned the laptop around. You see a photograph of Jonathan standing with Madeleine at a bar in Geneva. There were many photos of them in different places, you knew these were taken while you were at the hotel, injured. “Looks like they’ve been having a lot of meetings and a couple of weeks prior, Madeleine was seen with Longwell in the Bahamas. I’m sorry Y/N.” “Don’t be. There’s uh - nothing to be sorry about.” You shrugged, staring into the laptop. “I need surveillance on Dr. Duck and Jonathan in the past three weeks and their whereabouts right now.” “You mean Swann?” “Now’s not the time. We need to track them. I’ll take Jonathan, you get the other one.” You opened a new surveillance tab to focus on Jonathan’s current movements. He was last seen in Geneva, as you expected, five hours ago yet there has been no update. Previously, you saw Jonathan also following Bond’s movements yet something didn't feel right, especially with his meeting with Madeleine. As the pinging got louder, Eve’s last few sentences struck you. If Longwell knew someone in the MI6 was onto him, the movements had to be organised. James’ suspension after the leak, Madeline seeing Jonathan for inside information while James stalked Longwell. “It’s a trap. We need to call Bond now! He has to call this off!” You frantically pushed through the files, trying to find a way to call Bond. Eventually, you found a pager somewhere in the things you stole from Q branch. You switched it on, flashing for Bond to turn on his earpiece. After a few seconds of flashing, you heard a voice. “Hello?” James’ voice appeared through the transmitter beside you. “ Bond abort mission! It’s a trap! Operation foxtrot is a trap!” “What do you-” The ear piece was cut.

----

[7 Years ago:]

A little light from the lamp shone in your small bedroom in central Oxford. You remain snuggled in the warmth of your blanket, knowing fully well you had assignments to complete and a dissertation but you shoved it aside. Not today. Especially not after you overworked yourself and with the man lying beside you, staring at his laptop, shirtless with messy dark locks, typing away...Oh and it got worse. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. He worked through the keys incredibly fast and it became incredibly annoying. But then you realise...you fell asleep two hours ago. It was only 2 am! “I swear to god if you don’t type somewhere else-” Q, who you remembered under a completely different name at the time, sat up in the bed, focusing heavily on the laptop placed comfortably on his legs. “No can do, I’ve got this assignment due later and I’ve completely forgotten to start it.” It had been quite a few months since you started your casual fling, and that’s all it was - at first. Except he was starting to grow on you in other ways. In front of everyone he was this tech savvy, focused academic but you saw him in a completely different light. That was it. You were prepared to leave the bed and sleep elsewhere when a hand stopped you. This man caught you by surprise as his eyes were on you, not caring that his laptop was left upside down. “Look, I’m off! I’m getting off now. I was never doing any assignments to begin with. Just sending a couple of emails. I finished my assignments weeks before, remember?” Nerd. You thought. “Don’t let me stop you. Dungeons and Dragons super fans can be very dangerous when kept waiting.” You answered. Slowly to sink back into the bed. “Y/N! You are-” He scolded, prepared to fight back but you already had the covers over you. “I don’t even play D&D.” “Sure you don’t.” You mumbled. “I was doing something else!” “Mhm.” You answered with a smirk, knowing Q was on the defense. “And what was that?” “Well I might not let you see now that you’ve tried to-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“What have you done?” You asked. He only smiled, jumping from the bed, struggling to put on his shirt. As you expected, it was back to front. That made you laugh slightly. He opened the door and the smell of fries filled the room. Suddenly, you launched the blankets from your body. “Oh my god, is that what I think it is?” Q presented the bag proudly, joining you on the bed. “I tried ordering pizza from Paolo’s but somehow he knew your special.” “Dirty fries, no he didn’t!” You snatched the bag with excitement. Q stopped you, holding your hand, staring down at your chest with a small smirk. “Hey! My eyes are up here.” You snapped, clicking your fingers in front of him. “Sorry! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He leaned in to share a soft and tender kiss with you.

Stopped at some soft stuff because that’s always the best way to hook you in for the chaos later. To read more check out the link below!

Link to the rest of the chapter on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790765/chapters/82223395

Hope you enjoy this incredibly lengthy chapter, there is a lot more to come from the reader and the sass, trust me! Leave likes and comments and if you would rather have the whole story uploaded here with a masterlist, let me know and I would be happy to (if Tumblr doesn’t mess up!) Much love, x

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate Update!

Last words:

“Bond it’s a trap! Operation Foxtrot is a trap!”

Now for the juicy stuff!!!

Real question, I know it’s been a year since I’ve posted a chapter in the Bond’s New Flatmate series (there are a few more chapters on AO3 in the masterlist I promise!!!) but I’m wondering if anyone would still read them if I posted new chapters or if anyone’s still invested in the story?!

P.s it amazes me people are still read my stories and if you’d like more then I may or may not have something in store for the series by the end of the week🌞💓

[mrdanielbond]

“Good Goodbye”

[James Bond X Reader]

Plot; Things were all up and dandy between you and your boyfriend. Until you find yourself reaching a toxic and negative area in your relationship…

[Y/N - Your Name]

[Word Count - 1900+ ]

[Warnings? None.]

[A/N; I thought this would be a good title, even though it’s inspired by Linkin Park’s ‘Good Goodbye!’ I hopefully tend to make this a one shot! Plus, I rushed this kind of so don’t be surprised that it’s unedited, whoops. Enjoy!]

At first, your relationship with James was phenomenal. You hadn’t agreed to the idea of being in a relationship with an agent who worked for the MI6. Especially James Bond, who was an all round womaniser in your eyes. To you he was simply just a man who wasn’t to be taken seriously. After hearing all the stories of how he left a trail of hearts - mainly those would now happen to be dead in his hands, he just couldn’t be taken seriously by you. There were many occasions where you found yourself teasing each other, but overall you had no genuine feelings towards him. It was all a laugh. Until you realised one night that he was being serious. You had to let him down though, because you were scared that things were going to crash and fall quickly or that your friendship with him would never be the same again afterwards but he was sure he only wanted you. He cast aside all the women he had involved himself in ‘flings’ with and he had never expected to be so serious about you but there he was. Showering you with gifts all the time, taking you out to expensive places for dinner, he really tried his best to be sweet about it and to you, it didn’t take the gifts or the dinners to make you realise that until you had fallen for him too. In fact, you let this phase last a little longer just to tease and ridicule Bond afterwards. Now you two were in a three year relationship, things were serious. You were living in his apartment now, he even made sure that at times you were moved to a remote location for your safety and would always stay with you whenever he was free. It was romantic. The nights you shared too - weren’t they special? He treated and cared for you with all the love he had to offer. It was all a surprise to you and to him considering he was one not to associate himself with the word ‘love’ or have any feelings towards it.

James really had settled down and moved away from the work life and even when he was out on missions he had toned down on the flirtatious behaviour for your sake. Even though you were accepting enough about it, considering you knew his line of work would consider keeping the country safe through his naturally flirtatious behaviour with the wives and romantic links of particular terror threats. He truly didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone special like you in his life but he left that question hanging somewhere else so he could appreciate you now, in the present. And just as he was when he was first attracted to you, he still showered you with gifts and made you feel safe as much as possible. However, this was the first two years of your relationship.

That’s right. As of late, Bond was away from home more often and he hadn’t bothered to call or check to see if you were okay at all. Which you were still able to handle, bless your heart you were patient with him and understood how tiring it would be. But then whenever he came home from a mission, he was now ignoring your existence. Straight away he’d arrive and fall asleep - okay he was tired and had a lot piling up on him as of late, so you stuck around to make sure he was alright. But then...he completely ignored your existence for months and whenever you made an effort to make him feel at home, those efforts were a slap to the face. These last three months? They pushed you to the limit.

You were sat alone, facing the fireplace with a warm blanket in the comfort of Bond’s flat. It was the first time in a while you had been here and surely it was good to be back home. In light of this, you made a special candle lit dinner for you and James, though surprise surprise - he came home late. You were patient and waited for him though except by the time he returned you were already dozing off on the couch. James hung up his coat to finding you asleep on the couch. He frowned, feeling bad that you had waited for him and noticed the amount of effort you put into setting up a dinner for the both of you. “Y/N, love. I’m back.” You yawned, wearily looking back up at James. It was the first time you had seen him in almost two weeks and you knew he’d return because he had informed you of it earlier that day. You stretched your arms and sat up, rubbing your eyes, “What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter. You should go to bed.” He took your hand but once you were properly awake, you looked up at him with a glare. “James. How long are we going to be like this? You promised me you’d be home on time and come back late. Am I just going to be home alone all the time?”

James sighed and rolled his eyes, “Not this again…”

“No it’s not ‘this’ again. Its all the time!” You snapped, standing on your feet defensively now, trying to fight the tears in your eyes. The sense of hopelessness was definitely there. “It’s like I don’t exist to you anymore! You’re always away and when I’m at work, I come home to a cold flat, hoping that you aren’t dead! You’re always away and I don’t want to be here to pick up the pieces every single time you’re gone! I had a life before you too, you know!”

“Well what do you expect? Me to be trapped inside with you? You do realise I’m out there doing this for us!”

“For us? I never asked for you to do anything for me James! I can take care of myself perfectly fine!”

“And you would know that with the amount of past boyfriends you’ve had.” He tutted. “No you’re right, you definitely can take care of yourself!”

That was it. With that insult, tears sprung from your eyes and battles to break the glass trying to hold back the tears. Your heart dropped and you felt your stomach turn. This wasn’t the same man you met years ago. All it took was for a tear to stream down your face for him to see what he had done to you and your relationship. “Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“No no. It is fine. I can’t take care of myself. It’s fine. I’m only just a burden to you, because I’m the one forcing you to work so much...” You stormed into your bedroom and slammed the door shut, with no intentions of letting him in.

It took hours for him to plead with you to unlock the door and you still hadn’t. He had to find a picklock and opened the door himself to finding you staring out the window with your arms folded. “I am really, really sorry about what I said earlier Y/N. You know I didn’t mean it.” He looked down and snaked his arms around your waist cautiously, but you had your back to him and folded your arms. “Alright, you know what? We need to fix this relationship, I figured that out and I’m a fool for not noticing your efforts. So how about this, I’ll take the week away from work and you do the same. We’ll head out to the safe house together, turn off everything we have and fix this relationship.”

Your eyes widened but you cocked your eyebrow in suspicion. “How am I sure you’re not lying?”

“I love you, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you and I never would do anything to hurt you. From the looks of it, we could both be doing with time away from work.”

You eventually turned around and wrapped your arms around him with a deep sigh, giving in now. He definitely had his way with you as you now found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you so much James.” You whispered under your breath, planting a soft kiss against his lips. So what happened that night? He definitely made up for dinner and redeemed himself… (;

The week had begun, you moving out to the safe house with James and all was well. You two were trying to fix the fatal cracks left for months and they were deep but you were amending them. That was until James received a call from work. In your presence, he ignored it but it didn’t take long for him to step outside and behind your back answer the call. “Alright. I’ll be there as soon as possible. No I’ve got nothing going on at the moment. Sure.” He ended the call and turned around to find you standing at the door with your arms folded.

“Two days it’s been and you’re leaving again.” You were leaning against the door frame, with disappointment in your eyes. James sighed with a look of guilt in his face and headed over to you, his hand over your head, resting on the door frame you were leaning on. “Mallory needs me and it’s an emergency. I’ll be gone for about another three weeks. I am so sorry Y/N but when I came back, I promise I will make it up to you.” He leaned in to kiss you though you refused. You pressed your hand against his chest and pushed him back. “No no. It’s fine. It’s not like this mattered anyway. We can do this another time.” You smiled respectfully and stepped away from him.

“I’m really, really sorry Y/N.”

“You don’t have to be. You go. I’ll wait for you.” You continued to smile towards him as he guiltily packed his bags and drove the two of you back home. He collected more of his belongings and gave you a quick kiss before he left.

Time Skip -

James was successful in his recent mission, taking down a certain Croatian cyber terrorist, known to be a threat to the United Kingdom and all he couldn’t wait to do now was to return home to you. He knew you were someone to keep your word and he just couldn’t wait to start making it up to you. He picked up a certain expensive present in a small black box, with a bottle of fine wine and returned back to his flat to finding it was empty and cold - almost too cold. “Y/N, love I’m home.” He began searching around the apartment, empty. This was odd. With no response, he headed towards the bedroom thinking you’d be asleep but it was like no one was there. The wardrobe was open but it was empty. All your clothes were gone. He turned around and found a note lying there, ‘I can’t do this anymore. The lies, the promises, the arguing, it’s this was the day I feared most and now it’s here. Goodbye James. It’s over.’

You couldn’t take it anymore. You had packed up and disappeared. You had no intentions of returning either after months of hurtful words and broken promises. You knew what Bond was one to break promises and now you just couldn’t be there to pick up the pieces. There he stood, now with sadness in his eyes, looking around at the empty room - with the terrible feeling of guilt looming over him. From his pocket he picked out the black box and opened it, a beautiful diamond ring shone and that was what had hit him most. He was too late, in too deep to fix your relationship.

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chapter 15) out now!!

“Operation Foxtrot” has been released, yes it is a bit of a more serious tone but I hope you enjoy it I! Kudos and comments are also greatly appreciated so check out the link below! 💓

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790765/chapters/57143944

[mrdanielbond]

PUDDIFOOTS’ NETFLIX PSD ADD ON PACK

Base pack

Please reblog if downloading

Includes: two show episodes pages (normal & Netflix original), Netflix originals page & a template for Netflix originals thumbnails

Font used is Helvetica Neue Regular, Light & Bold

Made January 2018 from the UK site

[ D O W N L O A D ]

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate Announcement

Due to the lockdown in the UK (well not really a lockdown tho is it🙄) I’ll be posting more chapters in the coming week, and this time I have no excuse (😂) so be sure to keep an eye out for that! Also may start working on a new story with Bond just to keep things going! So check out the full story on the masterlist here or AO3 to catch up on this wild story!

Stay safe everyone ❤️

[mrdanielbond]

Here’s something just as painful. Imagine having NSFW thoughts about the man on the television that your mum thinks ‘looks like a reindeer.’

the hardest thing is trying to not to thirst over any actor while watching a movie with your parents smh

[mrdanielbond]

007 himself, Daniel Craig

[mrdanielbond]

Bond’s New Flatmate AO3 update!

Finally it’s out! The next installment to the series! I’ve promised it and now it’s here, click the link below. Another chapter will also be released soon, much love.💓

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18790765/chapters/52727170