#okay anyway. back to 00q

[halfbaked00q]

Im soooo weak to when Bond is like casually being used or exploited at his expense for some ostensible Greater Good except the situation doesn't HAVE to come to that, not really, and he's so inured and even numb to it that he barely pays it any mind; meanwhile, Q absolutely minds and is very indignant on his behalf and works overtime to like either try to avert or forestall the situation before it gets to the point where Bond has to dig his own claws into more of his soft underbelly to offer up on the sacrificial alter of politics of all tawdry things, or to manufacture a way in which he does the needless "needful" so as to spare Bond at least one unnecessary additional wound upon his psyche.

bonus if Bond finds out and maybe after being angry or indignant about it - I don't need you to do my job for me, Q, this is what I'm here to do - and either Q tells him/lets slip or he deduces that like, this isn't Q thinking he can't get the job done, this is Q finding him precious and worthy of protecting, and like. he's just very in awe of that and does in fact feel very safe and cherished within the cradle of his Quartermaster's regard

[miri-tiazan]

Fresh from the archives, new unhinged 00Q chatfic!

So, @cicerfics and have been writing unhinged 00Q chatfics and headcanons back and forth in DMs for uh… going on two years now, and it seems like perhaps the time has come to unearth some of these from the archives and dust them off for sharing. Accordingly, here is the very first chatfic we did, inspired by this comment thread on Ch. 7 of cicer’s delightful fic the warmth of your doorways!

tags: omegaverse, mpreg, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, menopause

---

miri-tiazan: Oh God. Cicer. Doesn’t even have to be mpreg but…

Omega Bond going into his first heat in decades and just spontaneously deciding that Q’s flat is the Only Acceptable Location to nest in. They’re not even dating! Bond’s just broken in a few times! Q has no idea why this is happening!

Q just gets an alert from his home security system one day and Bond is There and he’s like, refinishing the window trim in the second bedroom or something. And also he won’t leave. Surprise, Q! You have a roommate, and he’s hormonal! Enjoy your new home improvements!

cicerfics: ...Okay, now that we're talking about this, you know what I'm a little bit obsessed with right now? The entire question of menopause in omegaverse. I don't think I've ever seen an a/b/o fic REALLY explore that concept, but now it's fascinating to me!

Like, what if nesting is a thing omegas only do when they're pregnant OR going through menopause? What if Bond (having never been pregnant) never experienced any of these instincts/urges and thought he was impervious to them? What if he hits 44/45, enters perimenopause, and is absolutely BODIED by the urge to:

a) Acquire a nice house b) Renovate, refurbish, and redecorate it c) Learn to cook d) Start a lil herb garden or something and maybe make some pesto??? e) Acquire a lover/companion to feed up and care for f) Acquire some pets/babies/random houseplants/literally anything that requires his protection and nurturing

Poor dude has ZERO experience with these types of urges. But when they appear, they hit him like a TRUCK. And his own flat is way too cold/sterile/crappy/lonely for proper nesting. There aren't even any cats or quartermasters in there!!

So, yes: one day Q gets home from work and Bond has simply annexed his flat/cats/kitchen. There are already overflowing bags from the hardware store scattered around the flat, because Bond has made up his mind that three different rooms need to be repainted, the bathroom needs a complete reno, and oh yeah, he's replacing the sofa because this one simply Isn't Right. The vibes are Bad. Bond Doesn't Like It, so it's gotta go.

Also, there's pasta sauce simmering on the stove and probably a trifle waiting in the fridge, and the cats are wearing new designer collars.

And sorry Q, but if you didn't want a hormonal new housemate/husband who is going through The Change...too bad. You got one anyway! He's here to stay...and no, he doesn't understand what's happening to his body/mind, either. Good luck, everybody!!

Continued on AO3 here:

00Q Chatfics and Assorted Headcanons (2391 words) by cicer, miri_tiazan Chapters: 1/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, Menopause Summary: Lightly edited chat transcripts between cicer and miri_tiazan: some live-written fics, some random headcanons, some plot-free fluff, all 00Q!

[lilolilyr]

from the "more fic writer asks" list: 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 13, 20, 23, 29, 30 :))

Omg thank you! In future pretty pls send several asks if you have so many qs, the Hemmschwelle to do so many in one go is too much for me xD do you like getting so many questions in one go? (genuine question - I'll try to remember to send you more than the customary three in the future if that's something you enjoy!)

Here's the ask meme

1.The last sentence you wrote:

'Blushing, Myka averts her gaze.' from the Epilogue of my Bering and Wells fake married story I just posted! It's not the last sentence in the fic, I had already written that yesterday, but I was So Close to exactly 10k words, I just had to add a couple more words here and there xD

3. how you feel about your current WIP:

Now that I'm done with the Warehouse 13 fic, I still have my Leverage Parker POV thing, I haven't really written more than a couple lines since the last update o.o so the feeling is Slightly Stressed because I want to upload something tomorrow for the last day of May Trope Mayhem xD

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet:

Check This Out. You might in particular be interested in the one to Hacks HBO

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP:

You know, said Leverage WIP hasn't got a fifth paragraph yet, and my other Berena draft is still trapped in telegram messenger app (I tend to write in chats with just myself in them while I'm on the move), so you're getting a line from a truly filthy 00q ficlet that might eventually get posted on anon.

"James, he says, glad his voice doesn't yet tremble by much, "I need you to retrace the scars on my back."

7. your preferred writing fonts:

Default *shrugs*

I like having different fonts in different places (telegram/Ellipsus/Ao3) so I'm more likely to catch typos on a second read through

13. a fandom you’re thinking about writing for:

Nothing new in the works that I haven't written for before!

20. in what year did you publish your first fic:

2014!

23. pick three keywords that describe your writing:

No idea sorry

(well, that was also three words lol)

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles:

Really depends, sometimes a fic has a clear theme that also works as a title, sometimes I get frustrated and end up using song lyrics of whatever

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of:

Not a fic but a podfic! And absolutely nobody has listened to it yet xD I still needed something for the 'Second Chance With A Former Love' May Trope Mayhem prompt and I wanted to do Stucky because it just fits so well and I've been reading some Stucky lately, but I couldn't think of any actual plot, so I thought I'd just do a quick podfic to fulfill the prompt, any fic I found, first thing that looked like it worked, cold read recording here I come, low effort, found this artsy journal entry/poetry style thing and was like okay I can do this, at least I don't have to do any voices means I don't have to look up how they talk first (sth I for example did for the Leverage mini podfic - and got compliments for my Parker voice!), I'll just be quick and it doesn't matter if it's shit probably no-one will ever listen to it...

Y'all. The fic is truly good. I liked it so much. I got so emotional reading it and it shows in the recording, and because I liked it so much I actually went and edited the recording properly in audacity to get out any little stumbles and background noise stuff... Spent way too much time making a little cover image for it... But of course, in the end it's still a 20min podfic of a little artsy poetry fic and Absolutely Nobody listens to it. Which I knew when I made it. But still xD

Anyway here it is! 22 minutes, T, Steve/Bucky, MCU canon compliant up to Winter Soldier.

[thestalwartheart]

Loving all the Bond morality discussion this morning! 😍 I'm not a writer and I'm sure have not considered all this as much as writers do, but it reminded me that from the v first watch of Spectre, my immediate reaction to Madeleine telling him 'you're a good man James' at the safe house in London was to laugh and sputter 'no he's not!' at the TV. I think the (film) writers come perilously close there to trying to attach a value judgement to him and that's just not realistic to me. No-one is all good or all bad, and who's to define what good and bad are anyway? He works for MI6, and before that other big military govt organisations and has surely adopted the 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few' mantra. His role model was (his) M - 'it was the possibility of losing you vs the certainty of losing all those other agents'. He left Ronson (against his instinct to try to save him) to pursue the greater good.

In his personal life those he loves have left/been taken from him (parents, Klaus, Felix) or 'betrayed' him, either in his eyes (Madeleine) or for a complicated reasons (Vesper). He doesn't have a lot of incentive or example for being 'good'. I don't wish to woobify him obvs and he's an adult making capacitated decisions - he could walk away and open an orphanage or something, but his previous attempts to leave have been punished (Vesper's death, Madeleine's 'betrayal') or branded as selfish ("where the hell have you been? Enjoying death"). In some ways it must seem to him that the right and 'good' thing to do is stay with MI6.

This is all part of why I love the 00Q dynamic, bc Q is v far from being 'good' himself. He facilitates death on a large scale for the greater good. He probably won't expect much more from James, and probably understands that no one will ultimately come before his loyalty to MI6/England/duty however much James may love them. He absolutely judges James for destroying expensive equipment, but he probably won't judge him for the morally grey decisions he makes in the field.

I love a soft Bond fic - they make my heart happy, but I think you can have both in the same man. That's the joy of Craig Bond for me - he's always had both sides to him and shown a certain humanity, even while being the state sponsored murderer he is, throughout.

Crikey, that's a lot of probably meaningless rambling, and a LOT of parentheses! (Sorry 😊)

First of all, no calling your very well thought out analysis "meaningless rambling"! And secondly, you absolutely don't have to be a fic writer to have an excellent/deep understanding of these characters.

You've said a lot of wonderful things here, but I wanted to zero in on the point about not making value judgements on these character. Especially in-universe. I did a double take at that "you're a good man, James" line, too, because James is essentially in the same business her father was (of killing at least). I guess she decided that if you kill for the right reasons, it makes you good. Which, to me at least, doesn't seem like something a woman who hates guns would say. But hey ho. He didn't kill Blofeld at the end of SPECTRE, and I'm sure that counted for something for her.

I got distracted 😂 Back to value judgements - those who work for MI6 would likely have no place expecting more from each other than to try and do the best job they can. The job is so complicated. They have to make impossible choices in a split second. Take Ronson. That was awful to watch because you know all Bond wants to do is save him, but if he lets Patrice go, he's dooming countless other agents to horrible, horrible deaths, much worse than bleeding out relatively quickly from a gunshot wound (as awful as that is). I don't think Q, who gives Bond the weapons with which he wreaks havoc and destruction, would have any qualms about the blood on Bond's hands, perhaps apart from some very real concern about whether Bond is okay or not.

I don't think I will ever write this fic, but I've always wanted to do one where Q has to kill someone with a drone, or perhaps has to cope with a civilian casualty. I'm aware that, like my characterisation of Bond, my Q also veers towards the softer side, but I'd like to see him grapple with that sharp knife of morality. I'm not sure I have the wherewithal or the skill to write something that nuanced and get it right.

Finally, I love soft!Bond fic, because he is fucking soft when he's in love. It's made so much sweeter because of all the trauma he's faced. No person is ever just one thing. We are all far more complex than we recognise ourselves to be, and I think that's true of Bond too. Softness can come with darkness and pain, and often because of it.

Thank you for the ask, bishy! ❤️

[roseforthethorns]

Analysis: Skyfall

Okay. Now we get to do my favorite of the Craig era Bond films. This was my introduction to Daniel Craig as James Bond and plunged me immediately into 00Q as my ship of choice (followed very soon after by JAQ as my fav throuple).

There’s something about this intro with its marvelous visuals and the utterly haunting sound of Adele’s voice that lingers with me far beyond just about any other intro (except maybe Craig’s Casino Royale).

It’s pretty ballsy of a Bond film to start off with apparently killing the protagonist… even though Bond never really dies. The slow sinking into the water, the trails of blood from his body, from the targets designed to look like him, his fun hitting the sand. Everything about it is haunting and intense and sets the perfect scene for the movie that follows.

I also love the sheer dynamic movement of the design, the camera constantly pushing forward to give us the visual language that, over the course of the movie, will then click and make sense (I love the raining fire and the Chinese dragons section). We even get a nod to traditional Bond intro sequences with female forms mixed with guns, skulls, knives, and the Skyfall manor. This is the film where Bond faces his past. We are going back to his beginning, facing his demons. Some of them, anyway.

For a film about facing trauma and risking losing those you care about most, it’s a perfect intro sequence and an even more perfect song.

“This is the end.” That’s how the song starts. And then it feels like it could be a lover or a mentor singing. It’s someone who knows Bond, who has seen him throughout his life, been there for him, challenged him. Part of me wonders if this is M, Judi Dench’s M, speaking kinder words to Bond. Maybe it’s because the final showdown is him trying to protect her from Bardem’s pitch perfect and haunting Raoul Silva. Maybe it’s because I’m a huge sap.

But there’s also the way the visuals pair with the text of the song and with the ultimate implications of the film itself. Yes, Bond sleeps with a couple women, but there’s no real “Bond Girl” in this- Eve could be the closest we have, and I adore the way Naomie Harris plays her. Both she and Q can match Bond witty jab for witty jab. They are both presented as his equals, and it just feels refreshing. But back to my point- M is truly the Bond girl of this film. She is the one Bond is fighting to protect, she is the one who ultimately pays the price for her mistakes and is another person Bond is unable to save. Just like with Vesper, M dies with Bond near. And we know from her time in the films that she has had a huge influence on the way this Bond works. She is a stone cold badass who takes no shit and makes the tough calls, even when it hurts her to do so (“Take the bloody shot”).

So this intro sequence, this fever dream of a near death experience, it is my favorite Bond opening and my favorite Bond theme song. And out of everything, out of all the trauma and loss and pain, Bond will always return, the broken phoenix that he is. And even with all the odds against him, he will still fight to the last breath to protect Queen and country.

Even when he fails.

[solarmorrigan]

Here There Be One (1) Dragon - James Bond - 00Q

Prompted by @shireya, shifter!verse, where everyone has an animal form but Bond, in addition to being able to turn into a cat, can also turn into a dragon. "What happens when Q suddenly finds out about his boyfriend’s secret shape?” I’m afraid I wasn’t able to fit everything in here, but I hope this is okay! Thank you for the prompt!

-

Imagine being Q.

Imagine thinking your boyfriend is a perfectly ordinary cat shifter, only to find out that he can also turn into a dragon.

Imagine locking yourself in your office until Bond Stops Doing That.

…

Maybe we should back up a sec.

So Bond and Q have been dating a while. Almost a year.

Bond’s second form is common knowledge (not all the double-oh’s are as free with their second form, but since this is Mr. Cover-Names-Are-For-Nerds, no one is really surprised). He’s basically just a housecat. Fairly ordinary-looking, pretty blue eyes.

It’s really pretty useful, because cats are kind of everywhere, and even if the bad guys do know Bond is a cat, it’s not like they can just go grabbing every cat they see, that’d be impractical.

(Also, cats are hard to catch.)

Q second form is a barn owl. Bond likes to make jokes about how cats eat birds, while Q reminds Bond that his wingspan is longer than Bond’s entire body in shifted form.

Bond is undeterred.

Anyway, they’ve been dating for a year or so when Bond tells Q there’s something he wants to show him. Something he wants Q to know.

Sounds ominous, but okay.

Q prepares himself or all manner of reveals, running through the likelier scenarios before his imagination takes over. He’s so wrapped up in telling himself that no, Bond is not going to reveal that he’s secretly royalty in some other country, that he almost doesn’t register that Bond has turned into a dragon.

Q blinks, but no, there’s definitely a dragon in their living room.

It’s about the size of an exceptionally large dog, it has silvery-grey scales, it has wings, but the eyes – the eyes are the exact shade of Bond’s, and are nearly identical to those of his cat form.

It’s Bond.

But it can’t be Bond, nor can it be a dragon, because there are no more dragons.

Dragons died out ages ago. Nobody can shift into a dragon.

Except apparently Bond can.

Q has trouble reconciling this information, and really only manages to express this difficulty to Bond by pointing a finger at him, saying very calmly, “no”, and retreating to his office, where he intends to stay until either Bond takes a more reasonable form or Q acclimates to the information that there are still dragons.

Bond eventually does get into Q’s office, where Q has shifted and is perched on the back of his office chair; it’s a more comfortable way to process.

He ruffles and flaps a little at Bond, but eventually consents to allowing Bond to gently stroke the feathers down his back (with decidedly human hands, because Bond may be a bastard who loves startling Q, but he’s not enough of a bastard to keep the form that’s distressing Q while trying to comfort him).

Bond explains that dragons are very, very rare, and must be kept a secret; the files on his second (third?) form are buried so deep that Q would have had to have been looking for them specifically in order to find them (which Q intends to do later, and they both know it).

He does not apologize for springing it on Q in the most alarming manner possible because, as previously mentioned, he is a bastard who loves to startle Q, but he does point out that now that Q knows, it means they can fly together.

And Q does love flying…

(Real flying, not airplane flying. Fuck airplanes and their fake, terrifying form of flight, wings are the only way to go.)

Since Q was really planning on keeping Bond around anyway, he supposes he’ll just have to get used to this dragon business.

(Although it figures, Q thinks to himself, flexing his talons irritably, that Bond has a built-in way to start fires. It just fucking figures.)

[melynen]

A Kiss and a Bit of Petting - 00Q

Written for the Collab prompt table and @starrboned who gave me the following prompt: MELY DO A 00Q!MUMMY AU

Q is not about to fall asleep.

He isn’t, really. He’s just… resting his eyes a bit, after the mildly unpleasant scene with Mr Bond, following the somewhat more unpleasant scene where the man had straight up picked him up — picked him up! Like he was a little boy to be carried around and man-handled at will by men who think of themselves as his guardian, or some such nonsense — and deposited him onto the bed. After, he’d had the nerve to lock Q up in the bedroom, alone he might add, and march off to do gods only knew what. Q is still seething at his presumption.

Although… if he’s being completely honest with himself, he is also a tiny bit impressed by the man’s strength.

Just a tiny bit. An almost nonexistent bit.

He sighs softly and thinks back on what happened in Hamunaptra. He knows he should regret reading from the Book of theDead, what with awakening the mummy with it and all, but the thing is that Q loves books and he couldn’t have resisted the urge even if he tried.

Which he didn’t, really, but he digresses.

Mr Bond really just needs to learn to forgive and forget, and then get along with the program again. Q’s certain that they will find a way to deal with their mummy problem sooner rather than later. (And hopefully find the Book of Amun-Ra while they’re at it. He really, really needs to prove those arrogant Bembridge scholars wrong.)

Truly, a bit of positivity never hurt anyone.

A slight frown crosses Q’s face when he remembers what happened at the library and how he didn’t have time to rearrange all those poor books that had ended up on the floor. Although, well, he does appreciate a good domino effect when he sees one. If only it hadn’t ended quite as badly for the books.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he misses both the susurrus of the sand as it pours in through the keyhole and the way Imhotep breathes out the name of his dead lover, and he only comes to when the man—Can he be called a man any longer? He’s an undead mummy, and while Q would normally be more than interested in him, er, it, it’s a little bit different when the mummy is suddenly moving and talking and doing all kinds of honestly scary things like becoming a man again by killing the Americans and trying to kiss him for whatever reason—sits down on the bed and leans down to kiss him.

Q’s eyes pop open and widen almost comically when he finds the man, the mummy, actually pressing his lips against his, part of his face still rotting but otherwise looking like a proper human being again. Q cannot help the muffled scream of surprise and revulsion that escapes his lips as he does his best to push Imhotep off of him.

Why is Imhotep kissing him, anyway? Q’s never been under any illusions of being that desirable to other people, and now he’s suddenly got a mummy after him?

“Hey! Get your ugly face off of him!”

Mr Bond kicking the door open and rushing in, followed by Q’s brother, surprises the mummy enough for Q to have the chance to do the sensible thing; in other words, he scrambles off the bed and hides behind it.

He tries, okay? There’s not much one can do while in a bedroom with a powerful, undead being so near.

The mummy seems to have lost his interest in him, at least for now, and instead turns to face Q’s saviour. He says something that Q completely misses because he’s behind the bed and also because he sees what Mr Bond is holding.

“Look what I’ve got!”

It’s a beautiful white cat that Q immediately wants to go and pet, but the most surprising thing is still the way Imhotep shrieks and looks terrified of the poor little darling. When the cat hisses and Imhotep shrieks some more before turning back into sand, which is a rather interesting ability, and escaping the room, Q looks at Mr Bond and his brother and takes a breath. He feels more than a little silly now that the danger has passed, and Mr Bond asking him if he’s all right only intensifies the feeling.

He does know one thing though: he needs to go and pet the cat that probably just saved his life.

(And, yes, he needs to thank Mr Bond as well. But something tells him that that requires more than just a bit of petting.)

[halfbaked00q]

For the Bond goes to Q's night club and does bdsm badly [tags: bdsm, s/D AU, subspace]:

I sometimes indulge in reading the s/D alternate universe fics. I'm sure they are super problematic; subs sort of have to go into subspace regularly to be healty and yada yada. So all of this is, ya, know. Not how it works irl. Don't take sex-ed from fics kids, but here's a thing, yeah? Cause I like you sprinkling up my dash with wild little 00q ingredients, and so I baked some trashcan cake for you:

He's hanging from the cross in one of the private rooms. Q has just managed to clear everyone out and is now standing here studying Bond and his disconcertingly back-to-normal breathing pattern. He can look his fill for once; Bond's eyes are closed.

His mind is still buzzing from the confrontation with the other Dom. From the way his thoughts had screeched to a halt when he recognized exactly who was at the cross.

He's come to some rapid realizations, the major one being that Bond is, in fact, a sub. All those times he's donned that macho agent persona have somehow been an act.

It boils Q's blood to know that--

To know what exactly? It shouldn't change anything. 007 is one of MI6's most competent agents; his denomination doesn't change that. Of course not. It makes it more impressive, probably.

But as Q watches the tightly controled way Bond counts each breath, his eyes tightly shut, inches from subspace but unable to quite reach it, he can't help but burn.

Bond must have been so fucking desperate to seek it out like this. He shoudln't have had to. Q should have figured it out. He should have stepped in. Should have known.

There's always been something there. The way Bond--James, really--would sometimes look all washed out, eyes snapping to Q as soon as he entered the room no matter how tired he was. The way he'd buckle against orders, but then relent beautifully when Q laced his voice with command just so. The way Q hadn't been able to stop himself from watching him, even knowing--wrongly, it turns out--that they were incompatible.

Standing here, now, Q feels like he's been cored out by a lightning strike. His insides burn with the realization, with how possessive he feels, how much he needs to be the one taking care of him. To make this right.

All in due time, though. First he's going to take care of this mess. Then there will be time to take them somewhere more private (home). To give Bond care and safety and what he really needs. Q is going to make that happen even if he has to bend the whole of reality to his will, he knows this the way he knows he could take apart nations. He's going to get what he wants and there will be nothing standing in his way.

He takes a breath and centers himself. He can do this.

"James," he says, the name feeling oh-so-right on his lips, "Open your eyes for me."

HELLO. HI. HELLO.

and yea just to repeat what I said before- anon if bdsm aus are bad then I dont wanna be right dot meme. I love bdsm aus and like. cmon are they any more ""problematic"" so-called than, like, A/B/O, or like what ppl have turned Sentinel/Guide AUs into (like the ones where there's an invented society where guides are systematically oppressed dare I say, even, rather like trafficked or enslaved?) etc etc

but um 😳😳😳😳😳 the fact that u took the concept & made it a BDSM AU.... and Bond is a sub that no one knew is a sub, and the way it being BDSM adds an Edge to the "needs the relief of subspace but Can't so seeking like a brute-force override via an excess of pain"....... ough ough ough. i feel like im chewing on a live wire zzzzzzzzztttt. kisses on the moutb for you too mwa mwa ough ough woof

[quillwritten]

00Q YouTuber AU - 5: Carter

Alrighty!

Roberta ‘Bobby’ Carter

star of the Double-oh Three YouTube channel

her speciality: parkour

used to be a gymnast

then decided it was more fun to do cool tricks and stunts outside

does them all the time

like she and R are on a date

“ooh look at that trellis I bet I could get up it”

“can you film me? love you!”

she posted short videos on an Instagram page for a while

which is how the people from M Presents find her

she’s very excited to find out that M Presents want R and Q

and volunteers her ‘networking connections’

which is just an excuse to drag R to the next meeting and lay all over her

shameless disaster bi

love her

Q comes along too because Carter told him he had to

there was no asking involved

it’s fine he trusts her

(mostly)

they arrive at the meeting and approx. three minutes (3) minutes later Carter tells R that Q and Double-oh Seven are going to date

Q is busy making friends with Double-oh Seven on the other side of the room and thus cannot hear

this is lucky for Carter

if Q heard, her internet connection would be in danger

if Bond heard, her physical safety would be in danger

the both of them are clueless for a long time and she delights in watching it unfold

anyway Carter decides that she has to appraise the future bf

and finds out that he is actually very cool

but on no account will she ever say this to Bond’s face

things she will say to Bond’s face include

“you’re a knob”

“stop being such a prick”

“bow down before your overlord”

(aka she beat him at the range throwing knives)

“bi solidarity, Jamsie”

she is the only person in the entire world who gets away with calling him Jamsie

he calls her Rob when she’s annoying him

but yeah they make friends

and bond over their mutual hatred over Double-oh Two

I mean everyone hates Double-oh Two

bc Richard Beaufort is a man ‘who had never any thing to entitle himself to more than the abbreviation of his name’

(dick)

((an aside: Jane Austen is savage, okay))

the first time M Presents filmed a scene with her they tried to make her damsel in distress

she laughed at them

and then bullied Bond into helping her rewrite the script

so Double-oh Four, Edward Cadogan, was the poor innocent stuck

and Carter led the charge to save him

with Bond at her back

when Bond and Q finally get together she spends a week crowing ‘I told you so’ at R

Q and Bond find this out at their wedding

but that’s a story for later

next up: Tanner?

[heath-ur]

00Q Kinktober - Day 11

Prompt List ;Ao3  Pairing: Bond x Q   Prompt: Kitchen Warnings: Smut, No Beta

James swings by to Q-Branch to pick Q up for dinner, as is becoming a habit. The grin Q shoots to James as he walks through is becoming a habit, too. “Welcome Home, 007.” 

James smiles back. “Good to be home, Q.” He steps closer. “Can I steal you away for dinner?” He might ask Q, but he looks to R for confirmation. She barely looks over her tablet and nods, making a lazy shoo gesture with her other hand. It makes James chuckle and Q puff up in offense, but he leaves easily enough so there must not be much that needs attention at the moment. 

“Are you really intending to take me to dinner? Or can I convince you straight to my flat?” Q asks with mischief as they leave the building, taking James’ hand in a way that was too new to become a habit… yet, anyways. 

James hums. “I could be convinced… but when have you eaten last?”

“Oh, recently, I’m sure,” Q tries to waive the concern off. It might have been more successful if his stomach hadn’t taken the moment to growl. James laughs. 

“I’m going to assume that your kitchen is just as bare as I left it. Which means: take-out… Or, shall I invite you to mine?” James says it with level teasing, but Q nearly trips over his own feet in shock anyways. 

“You’ll really let me?” Q asks. “We don’t have to, if you’re unsure?” 

 James just tugs Q closer to wrap an arm around his waist and keeps walking towards his vehicle. “It was never a big deal - I just have a roommate that normally intimidates my dates and is very particular about his belongings. You might have met him before - He also goes by a number and enjoys cursing in Russian.”

Q blinks up at him. “Alec. . . you live with Alec, which is why you’d never invite me over before?” 

James nods, “No needs to sound incredulous. You know we’re close friends. We’re normally never in London at the same time so it doesn't get crowded. But we also don’t like to be surprised with unexpected houseguests. So we have rules. Well, rule. No conquests or strays are to be brought home.” 

“So Alec won’t mind?”

James stops walking so he can cup Q’s face in his hand. “Surely you know, Q. You’re far more than a conquest. For either of us.” 

Q blushes and clears his throat before turning forwards once more. “Well, then. Lead on.” 

~*~

Once out of the elevator, James leads them straight to the open concept kitchen, removing his suit-jacket and draping it over the back of a barstool. He rolls up his sleeves while he checks the fridge and freezer for ingredients and pretends he doesn’t see how Q oggles the muscle tone on his forearms. “How does pasta sound?”

“Great.” Q offers his opinion as he steps around the bar to inspect the rest of the living space. The living room and kitchen were all one room, similar to his flat. However, where his place looked cluttered by books and cat hair, the Double-Oh’s place looks modern and sleek. Spartan. A flatscreen took up the majority of one wall in the living room, and the coffee table and couch was completely cleared of items. The kitchen was much the same - devoid of anything on the counter excluding a very expensive coffee machine. 

Inspection over, Q steps over and wraps his arms around Bonds back, grinding his half-hard cock into James’ pert asscheek. James laughs and reaches back to squeeze a handful of Q’s. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait? Truly, I’ve other appetites I’m more interested in indulging at the moment.” Q gives a small bite to an edge of skin over James’ collar. Not enough to mark, just to tease. 

James makes a cross between a groan and growl and twists out of Q’s hold just to come back close, wrapping one of his own arms around Q’s waist and slipping the other in Q’s hair. They kiss, fast and ravenous, as James guides Q’s back into the counter, using his hand in Q’s hair to get the slighter man just where he wants him. 

“I’ve been convinced,” James speaks when the kiss breaks. “I only worry that you’re insatiable.” 

Q pouts. “I’ve missed you.” He grinds into James like James needs more proof.

James laughs. “Alec has been gone on mission for a while too, hasn’t he? Our poor kitten, unfulfilled.” 

Q nods mischievously and hikes himself onto the counter, “I’ve been so empty with the both of you gone. Fill me up?” 

“Who am I to refuse?” James murmurs before he guides Q’s long legs to wrap around his waist and goes back to kissing Q, sucking marks on his throat when they both need a little air. 

Q makes a fussy sound that James successfully interprets to mean there’s too much clothing between them. He goes for the buttons on his own shirt while Q tackles his cardigan, each man flinging clothing off as it comes free. 

James jerks Q closer to the edge of the counter and starts working on the man’s trousers, getting them and his pants down around Q’s calves as Q flails and kicks off his shoes and toes the clothes off the rest of the way himself. Before Q can begin on James’ trousers, James pulls the packet of lube and condom out of his pocket. 

Q snorts and raises an eyebrow before he gets his clever fingers to work on James’ button fly. James’ boops the younger man on the nose, “You’re the eager one here, darling, so you really shouldn’t be making fun of my preparedness.”

Q reaches into James’ pants to free his cock and give it a few pumps, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He suddenly dismounts from the counter and twists to bend himself over the granite, removing his glasses and putting them a safe distance away. “Come on; I want your cock.”  

James growls and is quick to pin Q over and down by a hand in his hair and rips open the packet of lube with his teeth. One hand pours the cold liquid down on Q’s crack and asshole directly, making Q jump and moan, pressing his head into the cool of the granite in return. His cock starts drooling, dripping down the cabinet front, which he will try to be embarrassed about later. 

James doesn’t hesitate to press a finger fully inside, sliding quickly in and out, rubbing the gel around Q’s rim before quickly pushing with two fingers this time. Q bucks back on the fingers, riding the digits as much as James’ grip in his hair allows, fucking himself. “Yes, yes,” He mumbles into the granite, fingers slipping across the surface as he tries to find somewhere to grip. If he stretches far enough, he can grip one side of the counter, which he does, so that he can get more leverage. 

More scissoring and twisting, then suddenly James’ s gloved cock is pressing in at his entrance. Q sucks in his breath and releases it explosively, relaxing as he does. James takes it as the invitation it is, and slides in on one smooth glide. 

“God, yes… This.” Q hisses and rotates his hips as much as the position afford him. “I’ve missed this.” 

James bends over to chuckle in Q’s ear, nipping any flesh he can get near his mouth, “Me too, darling. Me too.” 

He stands upright starling quickly, one hand clenching into Q’s side so Q can’t move and inch, cock still impaling him. And then he just stays still.

Q whines and tries to wiggle, rolling his forehead back and forth against granite countertop. He can feel James’ cock twitch inside him. Can feel how James suppresses a thrust into a small hitch. “James, please! Please, James. Don’t make me wait. Please!”

After another moment, James sighs and releases his unrelenting grip, slipping both hands around and down Q’s flat back, gun calluses rubbing just right against all that flushed skin. “Okay, Kitten. Shh-shh. Okay, darling. Here we go.” He takes the wings of Q’s hip bones into both hands so that he can’t slam them into the edges of the counters and begins to thrust, swift and purposeful, changing the angle bit by bit until it glances that spot inside. 

Q shouts; moans and tilts his hips just right so James can keep hitting that angle as he goes. Perfect. “Perfect. James, please, James. Oh, I’m close. So close.” The last ends in a whine as Bond pulls Q back on the latest thrust to meet him, skin clapping at the impact before Bond grinds and there!

Q comes in a flash of white behind his closed eyelids, fingers and ass spasming as he rides his release in a way that triggers James’ as well. They stay there and breathe for a moment before Q reaches for his glasses. 

His hands find something else - metallic but warm to the touch. He opens his eyes in surprise and makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Is this my beretta?”

James shifts more of his own weight back onto his own feet, slipping gently out of Q’s clenching heat. “I believe it’s considered my beretta,” He speaks evenly as he removes and disposes of his condom. 

Q ignores his quip and steamrolls on, “What is my beretta doing in your kitchen when it should be back in the equipment locker?” He turns around to lean against the counter, beretta in hand aimed in the air as he brings it closer to his face, the better to examine the scratched sides. “Any why does my beretta look like it’s been scraped down the roadside?” His eyes cut up in James’ direction in ire when James just chuckles. 

“I accidentally left it in my back holster. I put it down on the counter before my trousers slipped down my legs.”

“I hope you realize I don’t believe that for a moment. And that still doesn’t explain this damage.” Q glares. 

James retrieves Q’s glasses and gently slips them on Q’s face as he takes the gun back. “Why don’t I tell you over dinner?”

[sunaddicted]

16, 00q

16. "I can't believe we are going to A&E on Christmas Eve"

***

Hindsight always is 20/20 - wasn't that how the saying went? Q actually wasn't that sure: he had never been a fan of sayings, there was something about those prepackaged sentences that had never appealed to him - too sterile, too impersonal; too... he couldn't really put it into words, he just knew that saying them made him feel as if he was coming straight out of some kind of society-stereotyping commercial.

That obviously didn't mean they weren't accurate, otherwise they wouldn't have gotten as entrenched as they were in everyday language.

Q just didn't like to use them.

Talking about hindsight, it was absolutely true that he could have easily prevented James from almost electrocuting himself "I can't believe we are going to A&E on Christmas Eve - all because you don't know basic safety rules when dealing with electricity" the man was a Double-Oh, he was literally authorized and encouraged to kill people on the job and MI6 often looked the other way if it happened off the job as well.

Considered that responsibility, it simply was mind boggling that James couldn't be trusted to drape a string of fairly lights on a tree without almost killing himself and setting the flat on fire as well - Q's brain refused to accept it even as he huffed and pushed down hard on the accelerator, absentmindedly taking note of any speed cameras that might have taken a picture of the licence plate. Or maybe he could just not give a shit and let all the speeding tickets flock to James - not that the other man would pay them but still, at least he would be mildly inconvenienced.

"I told you there is no need to go to the A&E, I'm fine"

Diplomatically, Q elected to ignore that comment: who would have avoided going to the A&E with the kind of burn that James was currently sporting? It wasn't a genuine question, Q knew exactly the answer: any other Double-Oh would have reacted the same way as his lover "Why the hell did you try and change the bulb while the lights were still connected?" It was like... like turning an engine on with one's hand buried in its innards - not that James knew anything about that: his expertise lay in destroying cars, not repairing them.

Hot wiring probably was the only bit of cables handling the other man could do and had learnt how to do it merely because it was the kind of skill that would save his ass out in the field.

"I thought it wouldn't be too bad"

"Couldn't you have asked?"

"Yes" James shrugged "It just hadn't come to mind at the moment" and, to be quite honest at least with himself, he had wanted to do something nice for his partner and setting up the fairy lights without disturbing Q while the other took care of some little odd jobs for MI6; he had wanted to show his partner that he could do something nice - that he could be an ordinary boyfriend for a day.

It rankled that he had managed to fuck up.

It hurt way more than the electrical burn on his fingers.

"Of course it didn't" Q mumbled, taking the ticket before pulling into the parking lot of the hospital "Come on, let's get your hand checked"

"It's not that bad, really"

"For my peace of mind, I would like to hear a doctor say that"

James pursed his lips but he followed Q anyway, even if he knew that the only thing the doctor was going to do would be to give him some kind of cream for the burns and call it a day "I didn't mean to"

"To hurt yourself? That's comforting"

"To ruin Christmas"

"Oh, James" Q stopped in his tracks and turned around, hands going to the other's face to cradle it, tilting it down to ensure that the other man looked into his eyes "You didn't ruin Christmas, okay? I'm sorry for having been short with you, I just.. worry when you get hurt"

"Promise?"

"Promise" Q murmured, leaning up and kissing him "Let's go now: the sooner we get this done with, the sooner we can go back home"

[silverynight]

im so desperate for 00q fics rn. Just like absolutely anything, please.

Based on this.

***

There are some humans among double-ohs, although the majority of them are vampires and even though they’re stronger and faster than humans that doesn’t mean they don’t have to be rescued.

Proof of that is Q having to board a plane, passing out on the seat next to Moneypenny just to go find out what happened to 007.

He hates flying, that’s why he’s never going to forgive 007 for making him go all the way to Argentina to save him.

Q manages to hack Silva’s security system and Moneypenny kills everyone else on her way. The problem is that Bond has been kept in a cell for weeks and he’s starving.

Which means he doesn’t recognize any of them.

“He’s going to kill us both if we open it,” Moneypenny mumbles, preparing her shotgun with a silver bullet. “I think I’ll have to shoot him.”

The agent hears them speak and gets closer, eyes completely red due to the thirst; he looks like a predator.

“Wait!” Q whispers to Moneypenny before turning to look at the agent. “007.”

“You smell good,” Bond comments, showing his fangs while he speaks. “I can’t wait to taste your blood.”

Now, he had made comments like those before, but always in a playful tone, just to make Q frown at him because even though the agent likes to flirt, the Quartermaster knows he’d never date someone like him.

Not that he cares either.

There’s none of that playful tone now though; Q takes a deep breath, trying not to shiver.

“Okay, I’m going in.”

“Are you crazy? I cannot risk your life, Q! You’re too important to MI6. Let me shoot him!” She whispers furiously.

“Listen, I have an idea… I think it’s going to work, besides, if he attacks me then you can shoot him if you want. Just please, trust me.”

Q opens the cell carefully, the vampire doesn’t seem to want to get out; he waits patiently for him to get inside.

It’s a bad idea; Q doesn’t know much about vampires anyway, he just read about the bite thing a couple of weeks ago…

He’s not sure if it’s real.

A bite to stablish dominance? It could just piss him off even more.

“You’re beautiful,” if Q wasn’t so nervous, he would’ve rolled his eyes at that. Even consumed by thirst Bond is still Bond.

“Come here… I bet you’re hungry,” Q says and almost regrets it when, in the blink of an eye, he finds himself in the vampire’s arms.

“I’ll be gentle…”

“Well I won’t,” Q huffs before leaning to bite his neck. The vampire freezes and the Quartermaster is pretty sure he’s going to die when 007 pushes him away.

His eyes are not red anymore. He looks confused.

“Q?”

“Thank God!” The man mumbles, taking one of the bottles with synthetic blood he brought with him. “Here, drink this.”

Bond does as he’s told, staring at Q while Moneypenny opens the cell again.

“Time to go, boys.”

“Q, did you bite me?”

“Well… yes.”

Bond grins from ear to ear.

***

There’s something wrong with 007; there’s nothing new about him spending his free time in Q branch (he used to do that just to piss Q). But now he follows the Quartermaster like a puppy, brings him sweets and flowers and bares his teeth at any other agent that comes awfully close to Q.

R doesn’t seem surprised though and she’s a vampire as well, maybe she knows something Q doesn’t.

“So you’re finally dating!”

“We’re not dating and what do you mean ‘finally’?” Q says, before explaining everything that happened. “I think I broke him.”

She rolls her eyes.

“The bite is not to stablish dominance! If a human bites one of us like that it means you want to start a courtship. It’s basically a declaration of love!”

Q blushes, cursing himself.

“What do I do now?”

“Enjoy it?” She chuckles when she sees him narrow his eyes. “I mean everybody knows Bond is in love with you–No, don’t give me that look now, he really is! You’re just too oblivious to notice. Of course, if you don’t like him, then–”

Someone pulls Q away from R, the powerful pair of arms seem really determined not to let him go now.

“I’ve missed you,” Bond purrs in his ear. He presses his lips against Q’s temple gently, making the Quartermaster blush. “I can’t wait to make you my mate… We’ll be together for–”

“Wait, 007…”

“Why don’t you call me James?” The vampire frowns, looking hurt.

Q sighs.

“There’s something you need to know.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” R mumbles. “Good luck, boss!”

Bond doesn’t take it well at all.

“You bit me to calm me down?” The vampire asks and Q has to admit it really sounds stupid when he says it like that.

“It was to stablish dominance! But yeah, it wasn’t my brightest idea,” he whispers watching as the agent’s expression turns into sadness.

“So you don’t… Well, I guess I’ll stop bothering you,” the vampire says, taking a step back.

“Wait! James!” Q grabs him by the sleeve to stop him from leaving. “I’m definitely not ready to be your mate… yet. But I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“How do I know you’re not saying this out if pity?”

Q rolls his eyes, takes him by the tie and gives him a kiss that makes Bond gasp.

The vampire kisses back, desperate and possessive; it’s like he’s been waiting a long time for that moment.

When they pull apart, there’s a smug grin back on Bond’s face.

“I’ll pick you up at 8.”

Q is not sure if he made the right decision, but he’s definitely excited about that first date.

***

Kofi

Patreon

[azure7539arts]

Surprise

Pairing: 00Q (Q/Bond)

Rating: PG

Summary: Bond likes surprising Q, just a bit.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Collab prompt table fill: @christinefromsherwood requested “az: since he's been away a lot and has ended up missing his cats a lot, Q has installed a pet watching camera in his apartment... he's very surprised by what he sees when he turns it on during lunch break the next day. 007 - the pesky agent - is, after all, supposed to be in Nigeria (and no, I can hear you thinking, you angst demon, this is a fluffy fic, Bond is not Q's flat bleeding out or something, this is a sweet prompt)”

Notes: Well, i hope this is what you want, Christine lmao considering that you banned me from angst for this.

-

“Why didn’t you contact me?”

In retrospect, saying that first thing upon coming home wasn’t the most polite thing he’d ever done, but then again, Q had never given a damn about manners and etiquette anyway. Not when Bond had gone missing the last day or so and hadn’t bothered checking back in, the bastard.

Said bastard was currently blinking at him for his mini outburst, hand momentarily stopping midair before casually resuming their duty of stroking Sam the cat.

“Welcome home,” Bond said, like the last words that had flown past Q’s mouth hadn’t meant anything at all, an amused glint glimmering in his eyes as the cats hopped down from the sofa and his lap to saunter over and greet Q. Q, their actual owner.

But yes, Bond was supposed to still be in Nigeria, but, obviously, that wasn’t the case with him lounging in Q’s living room like this. After going off the grid for two damn days.

“I didn’t tell you that your Smart Blood needed renewing for you to use it against me,” Q grumbled, kicking off his shoes and patting his cats as they wound around his legs.

Bond finally began to get up now, and judging from the somewhat slow and careful way he was doing it, the man had gotten a bit of a bruised back.

Serves you right, Q thought, even as a lance of worry and pity nibbled at the pit of his stomach. 

But Bond muscled through it, because he always did, and came to sidle next to Q, a suggestive quirk to his lips. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Q stopped himself short of rolling his eyes and scoffed. “I can see—”

“There’s semifreddo in the fridge,” Bond continued, voice low and soft, and it was Q’s turn to pause this time as he arched a questioning eyebrow at this incorrigible man. “You didn’t think I’d forget our anniversary, did you?”

Q looked away so quickly, he was surprised he didn’t strain his eyes, mind flashing to the discreet present box that he still carried right in his knapsack.

“I hate you,” Q said finally with sighing huff of breath as he turned back to face Bond and leant in to kiss him on the lips.

“Sure you do,” Bond murmured and smiled into the kiss.

“You’d better had something better than just homemade semifreddo,” Q continued, pulling Bond closer with both hands on his hip bones, gentle enough that it wouldn’t disturb any prominent injuries. 

Okay but, semifreddo when it was as hot as Satan’s armpit out there?

Not a bad idea.

“We shall see, won’t we?” 

[consultingwriters]

hey, love your writing. wondered if you could write some 00q with q being a holmes and james not knowing? and with him finding out, maybe, by there being some big government-thing, and q is just going straight towards the British government and greeting him and talking to him as if it‘s nothing (maybe even disagreeing with him or something like that) and james just being absolutely surprised/shocked, until someone mentions that q is actually brothers with mycroft? thx & ily! <3

---

I’m getting there with prompt fills, I promise! Just taking me a bit of time... life is a bitch sometimes. Thank you everybody still here and reading <3 Jen.

---

Bond was healthily wary of Mycroft Holmes, as anybody with half an ounce of intelligence should be: the man’s scope was undeniable, somebody who seemed to have clearance at every single possible level of government and enough influence to more or less dictate terms as he wished.

Which is why Bond found it rather extraordinary that Q had no qualms whatsoever about tackling the man head-on.

“... no, Mr Holmes, that would be a spectacularly bad idea,” Q was saying, voice level and calm. “The double-ohs can handle it; double-oh seven?”

Bond blinked. “I’ve been briefed and ready to be deployed.”

Mycroft’s smile was small and unpleasant. “While Q’s biases may be overlooked by some…”

“If you continue that sentence, I will not be held responsible for my actions,” Q snapped, while the rest of the room stayed in an uncomfortable suspended silence. “It is not a case of bias, Mr Holmes. You are not a field agent. I am. Bond is. So I’m afraid I am overruling you. If we could kindly move on…”

Bond was endearingly still.

The rest of the meeting passed without incident.

It wasn’t until they were alone - Prime Minister and lackeys and M absent - that Q’s expression suddenly stretched into a grin. “Mycroft, if you ever, ever try to undermine me like that again, I will tell mummy what really happened to the gardenias.”

Mycroft smiled, an expression that scared the living hell out of Bond. “I stand by my previous statement, although I will concede that it was unnecessary to introduce the emotive element.”

“I repeat: gardenias.”

“... mummy?”

Q and Mycroft turned to Bond; the latter’s smirk heightened. “You haven’t told him, then?”

“Not as such,” Q admitted. “So: James, this is Mycroft, my eldest brother.”

Bond blinked. “… brother?” he echoed, a little bit stunned. “You… Mycroft Holmes is your brother?”

“Well, Sherlock is too, but in essence? Yes.”

Bond made a small sound that somehow seeped out the back of his throat. “… you’re…”

“Well, I’m glad you’re taking this so well,” Q commented, with an honest-to-god smirk (bastard). “It’s okay, don’t worry - he’s not going to kill you.”

“No,” Mycroft agreed placidly. “I’m more of a kidnapper than a murderer. Although I will make an exception should you hurt him.”

Bond smiled, with as much confidence as he could muster. “I have no intention of hurting him,” he assured Mycroft easily. “So… preferably less murder if possible. We can stick to kidnaps. I’m good at kidnaps.”

It was a valiant effort insofar as remaining calm.

“It’s good to know,” Q mused, “that if I ever need anything from you, I just have to threaten telling Mycroft…”

“Don’t abuse your powers,” Mycroft chastised, with a hefty bit of amusement lining his voice. “Anyway: I have work to be getting along with, as do we all. A pleasure as always, Q. Bond.”

Q winked.

“Pleasure,” Bond managed, and pretended not to hear Q’s snort of amusement as the door closed.

[actual--quartermaster]

Actual--Quartermaster’s 00Q rec list:

A collection of amazing works that deserve all the praise. Warnings are added to fics with major concerning aspects, however, be prepared for canon typical violence and sexual content in pretty much every fic-- I mean, this is James Bond, he’d manage to get into a knife fight even in a coffee shop AU.

Quriosity by dr_girlfriend

Words: 80495  Chapters: 33/33

Bond finds himself increasingly curious about his enigmatic Quartermaster.

"Your prior hotel is no longer secure, I will direct you to a new location. Your luggage has already been transferred. A field agent and medic from the Diréction Générale de la Sécurité d'État will be waiting at the side entrance. I have cleared them both personally." In contrast to his crisp dry English, Q's pronunciation of the French words was fluid and flawless, the throaty tone of the fricatives sending a surprising jolt of awareness straight to Bond's cock — all the more remarkable given his degree of blood loss.

"You're wasted on Q-branch, you have the voice for a phone-sex call-in line." The words slipped out of Bond's mouth without forethought, although he had plenty of time to think in the sudden pause that came afterward and stretched on for endless moments. Bond hadn't realized until now how Q was always there, with an immediate reply. In all their banter Q had never before been at a loss for words. Ever.

____

I reread this fic at least once every few months, it’s that good. I have it saved in the pdfs on my phone for car rides and vacations. This fic stays so true to the characters, with everything from Q’s unceasing exasperation to Bond’s cheeky carelessness. The only bad thing I can say about it, is that it doesn’t follow my “Q is a Holmes brother” headcanon. Honestly, if you haven’t read this fic yet, it’s probably the one you’ve been looking for.

~~~

Human Error by thejabberwock

Words: 86107   Chapters: 14/14

007 is the perfect assassin, an artificial intelligence with the ability to think for itself. Human emotions were never meant to be part of its programming, and Q was never meant to be anything more than its creator.

____

Okay, this was so good, I had to contact the author (@bondsboffin) in the middle of it being written. I was going out of my mind. Bond is so complex and the style is just so intriguing. Honestly, this is the kind of fic that will make you roll on the floor in angst.

~~~

Blue-Eyed Monster by Only_1_Truth

Words: 118362   Chapters: 23/23

Yes, this version of 007 was a terrifyingly smart agent, and M wondered long and often whether it had been a good idea to promote him to the position. Usually, the title was the dangerous part - being 007 meant deadliness - but this time, M feared that a certain man with ice-blue eyes and scruffy blonde hair had dragged in more danger to the title than it had previously possessed

Enter MI6's new Quartermaster: an unassuming, bespectacled genius with no mind for subterfuge but plenty of genius behind a dry smile. Curious 00-agents and young boffins don't always mix in predictable ways…

____

This made me cry the first time I read it. Full of humorous chess games, dangerous double 0’s, and domestic (well, at least as close as possible to anyway) Bond. A wonderful Skyfall rewrite.

~~~

Beautiful Creatures by 1MissMolly

Words: 63151  Chapters: 30/30

“You smell good,” Q’s drunk words were slurred and raspy.

“I’ve been told.” James smiled at the young man.

“Stay here, I want to snuggle.”

“What?”

“Snuggle, be my teddy bear.”

“What!? I could blackmail you for that comment.” James joked but Q was already snoring lightly. His arms still wrapped tight around James neck. The older man gave in, convincing himself it was only because Q wanted him there. James own wishes and desires were not pushing him to lay beside Benjamin. The reason he was here, he told himself over and over again, was to protect the quartermaster. His scent and angelic face had nothing to do with it. At least that what he tried to tell himself.

Bond discovers that his quartermaster is an omega, which would be fine, except someone is murdering the omegas that work for MI6.

Very slow build of coworkers to friends to something more. Working together to fight against the monsters in the dark.

___

Warning: A/B/O fic. An extremely well done one at that. Despite the summary, Q can hold his own, which was awesome to read. A complex plot and amazing development, overall a great read.

~~~

Brevity and Opulence by loveindirtytrenchcoats

Words: 7777   Chapters: 1/1

There’s no time to grab anything to defend himself with, because the first hinge on the door snaps open with a bang, and the second follows on the next hit. The door rips backwards, thrown to the floor by the same man Q had been in the ski lift with, who smiles menacingly and draws a knife from his jacket. The Quartermaster wonders how long it will take for James to realise he’s missing.

Before the henchman even gets in his first hit, Q knows it’ll be too late.

____

Short and sweet, a fix-it fic for Spectre. The best fix-it fic I’ve read at that.

~~~

The Love Song of James Bond by Fightyourdragon

Words: 103853   Chapters: 17/17

“Knowing your history, and adding to it the fact that I am not entirely unaffected by sharing a bed with you, I think it would be pointless to pretend that we are going to able to share this house for the next two weeks without fucking over every available surface.” Q smiles at the look of shock on James’ face. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting such a direct approach and Q presses on before he has a chance to recover. “However, when it happens it will happen on my terms.”

There was definitely a significant gap between the time Bond was breaking down over M's death in the chapel to the time a confident Bond walked into Mallory's office to accept his newest assignment. What, or more importantly, who, put him back together again? Basically, lots of porn with plot.

____

Warning: BDSM. A majority of this fic is two idiots on an island, fucking and making friends with the old couple who own the local pub. It’s the most weirdly domestic thing I’ve ever read, and its beautiful.

~~~

Bal-Chatri by Kryptaria

Words: 46402   Chapters: 14/14

Rising through the ranks at MI6 is enough to erode anyone's ability to trust. The agents of the Double O program all take paranoia one step further, elevating it to an art form. But everyone needs one person to trust -- even James Bond. Now, Q just has to figure out how to convince him of that.

Bal-Chatri: A versatile trap used to humanely catch all types of birds, including birds of prey.

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Warning: BDSM. Part of a three part series, and, honestly, it’s beautiful. Q is patient and kind, and together they work through Bond’s problems.

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Synchronicity by stereobone

Words: 7600   Chapters: 1/1

It goes on like that for months, and then Q realizes that James Bond is "hanging out" at his flat.

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Another short and sweet fic, and actually the softest thing I’ve ever read. James is just so gentle and Q treats him like he deserves. Good rainy day read.

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Return the Conquering Hero by 1MissMolly

Words: 41596  Chapters: 14/14

Bond and Trevelyan are sent in to rescue a mysterious hacker out of a corrupt prison. They don't know who sent them in or how to get the young man out. But the longer they stay in the prison, the more Bond becomes attracted to the young hacker.

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Warning: major rape/non-con elements, but nothing truly horrid happens to our boys. Not the most satisfying ending but lovely nonetheless, one of those fics you wouldn’t mind a sequel to. Also, have I ever mentioned how much I love Alec Trevelyan being included? Because this pushes all those buttons.

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Redamancy by opalescentgold

Words: 80627   Chapters: 7/8

If you write something on your skin, it will show up on your soulmate's skin as well.

James doesn't quite fall in love over physics discussions and cheeky book quotes and coding and riddles inked onto his skin, but he comes close.

And then he actually meets Q.

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It’s not finished yet, I know. But, this fic is so good, I couldn’t put it down. I’m sure I read it in under two nights (that’s with a full time job and full time school). This fic highlights the true discrepancy in age between Bond and Q, and is a whole lot of angst at points, and it’s delightful.

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Distraction by Pasteles

Words: 269   Chapters: 1/1

James Bond is an impatient bastard.

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Putting this in here because my lovely @actual--007 wrote this for me, AND I OPENED IT WHILE I WAS AT CHURCH THANK YOU VERY MUCH. But, it’s lovely and so is she.

[solarmorrigan]

Date Night - James Bond - 00Q

((Day 28! It is Trans Characters Day! I wrote this one a while ago, sort of following off the ficlet about genderfluid!Q I wrote last year (Code). It doesn’t fill anything, but I like it anyway. Warnings for gender dysphoria and a little internalized transphobia. Q has previously expressed that most pronouns do not bother him and so “he/him” pronouns are still used through the entirety of the fic, as pronouns do not always equal gender expression. Hopefully this whole thing came out okay))

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It’s date night, such as it is.

Between Q’s own hectic work schedule and Bond’s travel for missions, it’s difficult to set up an actual, regular date night, but they do their best with the time they have.

Bond is presently grounded (medical is attempting to impose their will, keeping Bond off missions while a minor wound to his shoulder heals and he is subjected to physical therapy, but everyone involved knows that the moment there’s an important enough mission on M’s desk, Bond will be off again) and Q’s work load has been comparatively light, and so Bond has used his secret agent powers (Q’s words, not Bond’s) to secure them a last-minute reservation at one of the nicer restaurants in town. They’ve planned to be dapper: suits and ties and sleek lines, eyeing one another across the table and going home and thoroughly mussing one another up.

The thing is–

Just, the thing is, Q’s spent all day in a suit and tie—one for work, rather than a fancy dinner, but a suit and tie nonetheless—and by the time he gets home, he’s entirely sick of it.

He doesn’t want to be sleek lines today. He doesn’t want planes and angles, nor trousers and jackets. He doesn’t want masculine today.

Of course, there’s time before the reservation; he’s actually made an early day of it and he has hours to reacclimate to the idea of putting on a suit and going back out in public where people will see him in the suit and – well, he has time.

In the meantime, however, he shucks his work clothes as quickly as possible, laughing a little when his jacket and shirt landing on the bed startle Steve and Doughnut from their afternoon nap, and selects a pair of pajamas from the dresser.

They’re a nice, soft blue; loose-fitting and lacy and comfortable. They disguise the straight lines of his torso and hips and soften his figure a little. Dysphoric days like this don’t come too terribly often, but Q never appreciates his pajamas and overlarge jumpers so much as when they do appear. He takes off his glasses and musses his hair until falls around his face, easing the sharp angles of it a little, and sets up with his laptop on the sofa, ready to relax before he has to dress up again and go out.

Bond is still at work, terrorizing a group of agents in training as he’s taken to doing when stuck in London (a habit that Q has been encouraging, hopeful that Bond will look at it as a viable alternative to fieldwork when the time comes), and won’t be home for a little bit yet, and so Q is impressed with himself when he manages to pull his nose away from his screen with more than enough time to get ready without any outside reminders.

He wanders back into the bedroom and meanders over to the closet to take out his outfit for the evening. He runs a regretful hand over the hangers holding his skirts and dresses, but he doesn’t own anything nice enough to have dinner where they’re going – never mind the fact that he really doesn’t think he has the courage to go out in anything so overtly considered feminine. He turns to his nicest suit instead and lays it out on the bed.

He stares at it for a moment, then goes to the dresser to take out a tie. He spends longer than usual deliberating over them; the blue one is his favorite, but the shade doesn’t really go with the suit. The green is Bond’s favorite, but Q isn’t really feeling the color. The purple is nice, but he’s not sure… he shakes his head. He’s procrastinating, he knows he is.

Q takes the green tie, places it with the suit, shoos Steve away where he’s sniffing interestedly at the sleeve of the jacket, then moves back to the dresser to pull out socks and pants. He considers a pair of knickers, but rejects the idea. Something about wearing them under his suit like a secret doesn’t feel right today.

Outfit put together, Q no longer has a reason not to get dressed, and yet is still standing there staring down at the bed five minutes later when Bond comes home.

“Thinking deep thoughts?” Bond asks, coming up behind Q so he can look at the suit as well.

“Not particularly,” Q replies; he’s mostly thinking about how much he doesn’t want to put on the suit.

It’s silly, because Q loves the suit, usually. It’s a very nice suit. He feels attractive when he wears it. Handsome.

But he supposes that’s the issue.

“Did you still want to go out?” Bond asks after a moment.

The question isn’t a disappointed one, nor even apprehensive; it’s simply Bond finding the limits of the evening – finding out what’s changed.

Q isn’t altogether sure of the answer. He wants to be able to go out with Bond. He wants to be able to put on a suit, go to dinner, flirt through the evening, then come home and fuck so hard the bed shakes.

He wants to be able to, but he isn’t sure he actually wants to. So he shrugs.

“May I?” Bond asks, and when Q looks around, he finds Bond much closer than he was before; he’s asking if he can touch.

The answer is rarely “no,” but it has been just enough times that when Bond can see Q is already uncomfortable, he asks. There are times Q doesn’t like to be reminded of himself. Today, though, he doesn’t feel like he minds all too much.

Q nods, and Bonds arms slide around his waist. He smells freshly like shampoo (his own, of course, though he’d showered at work after finishing with the class, because he’d never use something so common as the shampoo that the locker rooms provide if he can help it) when he leans in to press a kiss to Q’s cheek.

“Is it the “out” part you don’t want or the clothes that are bothering you?”

“A little of both, I think,” Q replies. “More the latter, though. Would be nice if I could wear a dress.”

“You could,” Bond offers, as though it’s the most reasonable thing in the world.

(Q wishes it was.)

“Unlike the women you encounter on missions, I am not made of evening gowns,” Q says, doing his best to inject a little humor into his voice. “I don’t have anything nice enough for this restaurant.”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else,” Bond says. “I’ll just be happy to be with you.”

It’s a wonderfully sweet offer, but Q still isn’t sure he wants to find out how he’d bear up under the perceived scrutiny of everyone they cross paths with. He still feels a flutter of panic the first time he lets a friend see his full wardrobe, never mind how he’d feel about complete strangers.

“I don’t think so.” Q shakes his head.

“Do you want to stay in?”

“James, no, you went to all the trouble to get reservations, and it’s – sort of date night. I’m being difficult, just let me–”

“Q,” Bond cuts in, voice serious, “do you really think I want to go out so badly that I’d make you spend the evening feeling poorly about yourself?”

Well. When phrased like that.

“No?” Q ventured.

“The point of tonight is to spend time together. It’s supposed to be nice, not stressful.”

Q turns in Bond’s arms. “I really was looking forward to tonight,” he feels obligated to assure Bond. “The dressing up and going out bit, I mean.”

“Then let’s dress up and stay in,” Bond suggests.

Q makes to glance back over his shoulder at the suit, but Bond catches his chin and brings Q’s gaze back to him. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll wear a suit tonight, you can pick a dress, do your makeup…”

It does sound nice. “You’re really going to put on a nice suit just to, what? Eat delivery with me?” Q asks.

Bond smirks. “Q, I would put on a nice suit for you if all you wanted to do was strip me back out of it.”

It’s meant as a joke, Q knows, but he’s uncomfortably reminded of their plans for after dinner.

“I’m not sure I’ll be up for that tonight,” Q warns. “I’m not… really very comfortable, today.”

“Maybe after you get to spend some time dressed as you want to be. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe two weeks from now.” Bond kisses the corner of Q’s mouth. “Just don’t judge me for the length of my showers between now and then.”

Q snorts out a laugh, giving Bond a proper kiss. “You already take ridiculously long showers whenever you can get away with it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to tell the difference.”

“Brat,” Bond murmurs fondly. “Get dressed, then I’ll take care of the food.”

Absolved now of the need for the suit, the need to present as someone he isn’t today, Q feels both lighter and apprehensive. Despite Tanner and Moneypenny and Bond’s acceptance of him, Q isn’t used to people simply being okay with him as he is.

He wants to ask Bond how he’s just fine with all of this, but he doesn’t want to question it at all.

Instead, he allows Bond one more kiss before they part, and Q sets about tidying up his previous outfit while Bond pulls a fine suit of his own from the closet.

Bond doesn’t say a word while Q deliberates over dresses, just getting himself dressed while Q takes his time choosing now that he has the freedom to do so. He ends up with his nicest one (perhaps not nice enough for a fine dining establishment, but still nice), and retreats to the en suite with it.

Once changed, Q pulls his cache of makeup off the shelf; he doesn’t have occasion or opportunity to wear it very often, but he keeps it all neat and well-stocked for when he can. After a moment of consideration, he takes out the lot of it: foundation, highlighter, blush and shadow and lipstick and everything. Why not? Tonight is meant to be nice, after all.

He loses himself in the motions of applying cream and powder, contouring and coloring, taking his time to make it perfect. He knows, of course, that a person doesn’t have to wear makeup to be feminine, but he’s always enjoyed it himself. He’s gotten to be quite good at it.

By the time Q’s finished, he feels more settled than he has all day. The face that looks back at him in the mirror feels like his again, something he’s been allowed to take back control of, and he’s pleased enough that he grabs a pair of heels from the closet when he returns to the bedroom.

Though he’d been rubbish on high heels most every time he’d been able to try them out, he’d stubbornly bought a pair or two anyway, and had been pleased to accept Moneypenny’s tutelage on the subject. Now the shoes are bit of a growing habit.

Q slips into them and does a shameless twirl in front of the wardrobe’s full-length mirror (because it’s fun, because he can, because he feels good), then follows the sound of soft music out into the living room.

Bond is there, standing by the stereo, and though it sounds like he starts to say something as Q comes around the corner, he stops short.

His outline is dashing, if fuzzy, and his face is indistinct. Q regrets that he didn’t bother with his contacts before coming out of the bathroom (or even with his glasses, but they don’t really match the look he’s going for) and shifts from one foot to the other in the doorway.

“Too much?” Q asks.

“Never,” Bond answers immediately, and his face is soft when he approaches. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh,” is all Q can say for a moment, and feels silly for getting tongue-tied over one compliment; it’s not as though Bond never says nice things about him, but he’s not always quite so… direct. “Thank you.”

Bond smiles and steps a little closer with the obvious intent of a kiss. He actually has to tilt his head up a little, the heels giving Q about an inch over Bond, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

When they part, Bond takes one of Q’s hands and gestures to the space by the stereo, where he’s apparently shoved the couch back a bit. “Would you like to dance?”

Even biting down on a grin, Q cocks one smoothed eyebrow at Bond. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Come on,” Bond insists, tugging Q across the living room and nudging him into position.

Q rarely does any kind of traditional dancing, and even then he’s really only led, but it’s not too difficult to reverse the steps, and Bond is patient. Before long, they’re turning easy circles to the gentle violins and piano coming from the speaker system.

“This seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to, just for a night in,” Q says, voice quiet in deference to the atmosphere.

“A nice night in,” Bond corrects him solemnly. “I’m trying to give you a whole experience here. We’re going to put the delivery on real plates and everything.”

The smile Bond gives Q is charming and the night he’s set out for them so quickly and easily is wonderfully sweet and for a moment, it’s too much. Q stops.

“Why aren’t you upset?”

Bond’s brows go up. “Would you like me to be upset?”

“No, I – of course not, but–”

“Are you upset with me when I have plans but I’m sent out? Or when I’ve just come back and go quiet on you for a while?”

“Of course not. I–”

“Then why should I be upset with you?”

“This is different,” Q snaps. “It’s just… different.”

Q glances down and away with a sigh. He tries – he tries very hard to be confident in all aspects of himself, and he has friends now, even a lover, who take him just as he is, but the fact remains that he’s spent most of his life in one kind of closet or another.

He wants to be proud, and manages it more days than he ever used to, but it’s still difficult sometimes. It frustrates him, and he can’t imagine why it doesn’t frustrate Bond.

Bond sighs, reaching up to cup Q’s face in both his hands, lifting his gaze back up.

“One day,” Bond says, “I’ll convince you to love yourself as much as I love you. But in the meantime, maybe you’ll just take my word for it?”

Q searches Bond’s face; he knows the man is, by necessity, an excellent liar, but also knows that he isn’t needlessly cruel. Not if it can be helped. Q wants to believe him.

And one day, Q hopes, he’ll manage enough love for himself all on his own. But in the meantime, he thinks the fact that Bond loves him is pretty good, too.

In the meantime, he’ll love Bond right back.

Leaning into Bond’s touch, Q nods a little. “Okay,” he says softly.

Bond smiles, just a little. “Okay,” he echoes.

They dance a little more until the food arrives. They eat and they talk and they make each other smile. They go to bed and, despite whatever plans they may have originally had, simply fall asleep wrapped around one another. It’s easier than Q expects, given the way the day went, and it’s nice.

He knows that however he wakes up, he’ll still be loved. And it’s nice.