#00q fics

[earlgreyinpajamas]

hiya! i recently binge-watched the pierce brosnan movies and i absolutely love how joyful and innovative desmond llewelyn’s Q is. do you have any fic recs where ben whishaw’s Q is trained under or heavily influenced by the older Q? thanks so much!!

1. the ghosts still left behind by pdameron ( @slverjohn)

Nine hundred miles away from where the man who will be Q sits grieving his sister, James Bond hears the story of a young woman who would have done anything to keep her little brother safe, even if it meant betraying the man she loved.

Even if it meant sacrificing her own life for his.

****

a Q origin story masquerading as another "Vesper is Q's sister" fic.

~~~

best fic to ever fic (and also fits your ask the best). i said what i said

2. Ulysses by girlbookwrm

“Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said.

“Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?”

M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.”

Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q.

All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

~~~

there is a slight mention of the former q in the beginning in pretty neutral tones, so i'm not entirely sure what their relationship was dskfsh im so sorry this is pretty much the best i can do atp

3. Risk ratio by withered (@everything-withered)

Bond is dangerous.

Never to England. Never to the Crown. Never to MI6.

But everyone else is in the blast zone.

Q included.

~~~

there is a slight mention of the former q, but it isn't in the most flattering terms. unfortunately there doesn't seem to be many fics that fit your ask :(( sorry

[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

[cicerfics]

...Okay, stay with me on this. I'm having a Thought.

What if! James H. Bond, the infamous 007, gets dosed with love potion!

(No, I don't know how/why there is love potion in his vicinity. But it's the Bondverse. It doesn't have to make sense!)

Let's say some supervillain is trying to dose Bond with love potion to make him fall in love with them/their offspring/their henchperson/ whatever. For purposes of manipulation! The potion is supposed to kick in after a certain period and Bond is supposed to fall in love with whomever he sees first.

But!! Q accidentally foils these plans by being the first person Bond sees, instead of the villain!

And Bond sees Q and he's like, "Ah, there he is, the light of my life, my beloved, the man who is far too good for me, whose very shoes I am not fit to wipe. I adore him. I am going to pester him so much so I can get all his attention for myself ASAP!"

Except. This is Bond's normal thought process when he's around Q. So he notices no difference.

And then, three weeks later, Q-branch finally uncovers the villain's notes and figures out that Bond was dosed with love potion and forced into a sudden and mysterious infatuation with Q! And then everyone is demanding to know why Bond didn't say anything about all these weird feelings he must've suddenly been having!

And Bond is like, "...I didn't say anything because...I was still conducting my own investigation about what had happened? I was playing my cards close to my vest! I didn't want to give any indication that I was compromised until I knew who was to blame! Just spy things!!!"

And most of MI6 (including Q) is like, "Of course! Perfectly legitimate approach. Well done, 007. Carry on with your usual daily business while we figure out an antidote!!"

Except Moneypenny is squinting at Bond like, "...You didn't notice any difference, did you?"

And Bond is just like 🙃🙃🙃

[tonyglowheart]

fanon Alec is so fun(ny). he's just on ice until/unless he becomes necessary for the plot or for emotional support, and then we pull him out of cold storage undercover in vaguely somewhere Russia-Slavic-maybe-Baltic-if-ur-spicy dealing with *handwaves* something or other

and then when we're done with him, back to some vague unspecified long-term undercover mission you go. seeya next time we put James in crisis and he needs Emotional Support from a friendbrother

[twixial]

the names people choose for Q in their 00q fics truly make me giggle because some people choose posho names like Quinlen or Siger... and then others are just like,,, Mike LOLOLOL

[tenpointsforq]

Amnesia fic! Either Q or James (even if I’d love to read one featuring Q not remembering his relationship with JB).

A/N: Why do you give me the tools with which to destroy you?

—

The man formerly known as Q woke in a large, otherwise empty bed. Pale light washed across the linens, creating peaks and valleys where the fabric eddied around his knees and hips. He blinked, and tried to remember where he was. The room was a rich midnight blue. Wooden blinds covered the windows. A dark wooden armoire stood guard in the corner of the room. None of the furniture looked familiar. 

He scanned his body. There was no headache, no nausea. He was wearing flannel pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt whose decal was so faded he couldn’t make it out in the dim light. As far as he could tell he wasn’t hungover, and he likely hadn’t passed out at a paramour’s home. That still didn’t explain where the fuck he was. 

He scrubbed a thin-fingered hand through his hair, and was surprised to find long tufts of curls. He’d always kept his hair a little longer than his mother would have liked, when she were still alive. But even this length seemed excessive. He couldn’t remember how long his hair was supposed to be. He couldn’t remember the night before. The day before. The week before. A swell of fear rose in his chest. It was hard to catch his breath. He sat up, and noticed that the spot in the bed next to him was warm, though vacant.

The wooden floor was chilly underfoot as he stumbled across the room to the window. He opened the blinds, hoping that he could at least figure out where in London he was by the view. When he was instead greeted by grassy hills speckled with dark boulders that dipped down to a churning sea, the fear in his chest twisted to panic. His breath was ragged in his chest, scraping against his ribcage as it clawed through his body. The corners of his vision darkened. 

There was a quiet knock at the door. 

The man formerly known as Q knelt on the floor. He pressed his head to the cool, wide wooden planks and watched the fugue of his breath cast a pale moss across the shiny surface. 

The door opened. A man walked in- average height, muscular, close cropped hair and the bluest eyes that could possibly exist. He had a small tray in his hands, with two steaming mugs and a pile of toast. 

“You’re up earlier than usual,” the visitor said. 

“Where am I?”  

“Roonah Point- in Western Ireland.” The visitor took a few steps into the room and set the tray down on a small table in the corner. “I’m afraid I have bad news for you, but maybe the tea will ease things a little. Would you like to come up off the floor?” 

The visitor’s voice was confident, almost cocksure. After careful deliberation the man formerly known as Q rose to his feet and walked over to the table. 

“Am I dying?” He asked. 

The visitor cocked his head to one side. “Why would you think that?”

“You said you had bad news. It was the first thing I thought of.” 

“You’re not dying. At least- not any sooner than you should be.”

“Then what’s the bad news? And where am I? And who the fuck are you?”

Maybe I’m dreaming, he thought to himself. But somehow, he doubted it. 

“Here-” the visitor held out a mug. It had a large, black Q emblazoned on the side, with a small number ten just beneath it. He wondered what it meant. Regardless, the tea inside the mug was delicious. Perfectly steeped earl gray with a touch of cream, just how he liked it. 

“I’m afraid that while you are not dying, you are ill, in a manner of speaking.” The visitor said. “You were in an accident a little over a year ago- you healed fine, mostly. But there was some significant damage to your memory. You struggle to convert short term memories into long term memories, and a good chunk of time from before the accident seems to be missing as well. Your loved ones hired out this house here, and I’m here to care for you, to keep you comfortable. My name is James.” 

“My loved ones?” 

“Yes. Do you remember your family?” James asked. His eyes tightened, and he took a long pull from his mug. 

“My parents are dead. I have a sister but we’re on bad terms.” 

“That’s right,” James said. “Although you’re on better terms now, so to speak. Celine visits twice a year. She’ll be back in a month.” 

“But I’m not going to remember that by the time she gets here, am I?” Q asked. His mind was racing through the implications of what James had explained to him. 

“No, likely not,” said James. 

“Am I going to remember this conversation?” Q took another pull from the mug, then selected a triangle of toast to nibble on. 

“For a little while, but it’ll fade,” James said. 

“How many times have we had this conversation?” The man formerly known as Q asked. 

“I’ve stopped keeping count,” said James with a smirk. “But there are worse conversations to have over breakfast.” 

They drank their tea, and then James suggested they go for a walk. 

“You like to watch the ocean on blustery days,” James said. He drained the rest of his mug. There was a ring on the man’s finger. Silver, with some kind of etching that was difficult to read from a distance. 

“You’re married,” The man formerly known as Q said. 

“I am. Going on three years, now,” James replied. 

“But you live here?” 

“Most of the time. I lease a flat in London, too. Sometimes I go back for holidays or to do some contract work for an old job.” 

“Your partner doesn’t mind? Where is he?”

James smiled. “He doesn’t mind much. He knows that this is important to me. Or at least, I hope they do. He’s not far, either. I see him most days.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Drink your tea. We have a walk to go on. Waves to watch.” 

James showed him where his clothes were kept and gestured to a pair of well-worn boots in the corner of the room. Then he took the tea tray and left. The man formerly known as Q changed into jeans and a thick wool sweater. He tugged the boots on over his socks. He looked out the window. Gray clouds were moving at a furious pace across the sky. Birds twisted and dove through the air. He felt unmoored. Confused. He tucked those feelings deeper inside himself and made his way out of the bedroom and down a narrow hallway lined with artwork he mostly didn’t recognize, but some he  strangely did. 

The hall opened to a living room with panelled walls painted in a deep hunter green. The room was dominated by a fireplace and a large leather sofa, with built in bookshelves lining the far wall. There were pictures and knick knacks propped on surfaces around the room. Some were his- he recognized a photo of him and his college roommate at graduation. There was a figurine of the Eiffel Tower that he’d gotten on a trip as a child. Other items seemed to be bits and bobs collected from far flung places. James returned to the room while he was examining a porcelain figurine of a tabby cat. 

“From Japan,” was all that James said. Then he crossed the room and pulled open a small door. He pulled out two coats, and held out an olive green one.  

“What’s my name?” The man formerly known as Q asked. His mouth was dry. He was afraid to ask, and he wasn’t sure why. For some reason, it terrified him to think that this man knew the answer to that question. Like there was a danger just out of his field of vision. 

“You tell me,” James said. “If you want.” 

“Thomas.” 

“That’s right,” James said with a tight nod. 

“That’s not the name I go by, though,” Thomas said, and the briefest of smiles flashed across James’ face. 

“It’s not. You’re right.” James said. 

“What do you call me?” 

“I call you Q, some of the time,” James said with a smile. 

Thomas decided that he liked that more, and something inside him shifted to make room for this other version of himself. Whomever he was that brought such a smile to this strange, caring man’s lips. He tucked Thomas away, and took on the mantle of Q. It felt more comfortable. More him. 

James opened the door and a blast of cold air filled the room. Q pulled on the offered coat and zipped it to his chin. He followed James out the door, and then moved to stand beside him. Together they walked down a muddy path worn into the hillside. Q thought he saw the remnants of boot prints in the dirt. Traces of a traveler from the day before, perhaps. He wondered if they were his own. The treads didn’t match the tracks that James was leaving in the mud beside him. 

They made their way to the edge of a rocky cliff. Dozens of feet below, the sea churned in on itself in a tangled mass of waves. James was right. Q enjoyed watching the waves immensely as they beat against the rocky shore. Wind whipped through his hair and stung his cheeks. James moved to stand on his other side, the bulk of his body shielding Q from the worst of the wind. Q glanced down, and saw that James was worrying at the ring on his left hand. Q squeezed his own fingers, frigid from the cold. 

“There are gloves in your pocket,” James said. Q reached inside, and found soft, knit gloves. He slid them on. 

“Thank you,” Q said. 

“I’d try to get you to wear a hat, too, but you don’t like how it squashes your curls,” James said. “I gave up on that a few months ago.” 

“How long have we been here?” Q asked. 

“Sixteen months, give or take. It’s hard to track the time,” James replied, and Q could tell that there was a lot that the man wasn’t saying. 

“Almost half the time you’ve been married,’ Q observed. 

“Almost,” Bond nodded placidly. 

“And do we do this every day? You come and explain to me that I am an invalid, permanently unmoored from time, and then make me tea and we go for a walk?” 

“Just about,” Bond said. “Sometimes I make us a proper breakfast first. Sometimes you’re a bit angrier when I explain things. Rightly so, of course. Then there are days that you remember a little bit more.” 

“I remember more?” Q asked. 

“Just a little. I think sometimes you have dreams that help bridge the gap. You wake up and remember who I am, at least. You remember more about your life around the time of the accident. It’s not much more, usually, but it’s enough to make those days different.” 

Q glanced away from the waves and back towards the little cottage where they’d ventured from. He could see a small gray car in the driveway. There was a shed off to the side of the house and a substantial wood pile, though he couldn’t see any nearby trees. 

“And do I ever remember that we’re married?” Q asked. James stiffened next to him. 

“No. You never remember that,” the man replied after a long moment. 

The sadness in James’ voice made Q want to reach over and take his hand. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead. 

“You must hate me a great deal for that,” Q said quietly. 

“Never,” James said. And he turned towards Q, and laid a hand on Q’s shoulder. His blue eyes blazed despite the dull gray day around them. “I don’t hate you. I hate the situation sometimes. I mourn the time we lost, and I grieve the memories we were promised. But I could never hate you. I’m grateful you’re alive and here and I can stand beside you still, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.” 

“Thank you,” Q said. And there were a million more complicated thoughts and emotions roiling inside of him. He had the sense that some days, he might roll up his sleeves and sort through them. But today, he wanted only to exist in this comfortable pocket of a life that James had provided for them. He wanted to drink tea and watch the sea and learn more about the man that stood beside him, through sickness and health. 

Q reached out and took James’ hand. He held it tightly. He hoped he would hold it tomorrow, too.

[thestalwartheart]

Last year, I got halfway through a virgin!Q fic for kinktober, then rage quit writing it because it was causing me such bother. Today, I found it again and it turns out sometimes all you need is a full twelve months of space away from your WIP.

I really want to finish this bloody thing.

Anyway, have a snippet. Maybe putting this out into the world will give me the push I need to finish it. Under the cut because it's E-rated.

Sex, Q thinks, is nothing like he expected it to be.

Bond had been the one to grab the lube from the bedside drawer, so he must have seen Q’s not-insignificant collection of sex toys, all that silicone and glass that’s brought him to some truly earth-shattering orgasms in the last few years. Q makes use of the stash often. He might well be a virgin, but he has a vivid imagination and a healthy appreciation for a wide variety of porn.

Somehow, though, he’d never imagined this. The heat of it. The stickiness of sweat, the musk of pheromones gathering between two bodies, the awkwardness of finding where to touch without disrupting what the other person is doing. Fortunately, he’s very bendy, but it’s still—

“You’re nervous,” says Bond as he strokes over Q’s hole with an as-yet dry thumb. Q twitches.

[emi-gelfling]

00Q may be something of a rarepair on tumblr, but I'll fight for this ship! The banter between Q and Bond on-screen is enough to tease the idea of them as a couple, but it's the layers of trust, respect, and understanding the franchise implies that make 00Q a formidable pairing. Also, smitten!Bond is always a win!

LINK TO "when the morning light explodes:"

[sgt-tombstone]

so if I said that I was going to write a CoD/James Bond crossover fic, would anyone be interested?

[earlgreyinpajamas]

00q fic rec masterlist

last updated: 21 Sept 2024

authors

beaubete

beginte

SvengoolieCat

Tokyo_the_Glaive

aus and fusions

author au

coffee shop au

different first meeting, pt 2, pt 3

fantasy au

his dark materials fusion

historical au

m lives

nttd fix-it

q doesn’t work for the mi6

role reversal

soulmate au, pt 2, pt 3

spectre fix it, pt 2

wing fic, pt 2

bond

jealous!bond, pt 2, pt 3

pining!bond, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

protective!bond, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

retired!bond

q

bamf!q, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

competent!q

god!q

holmes!q

jealous!q

kidnapped!q, pt 2

oblivious!q, pt 2, pt 3

pining!q, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

protective!q

holiday themed fics

christmas fic, pt 2

valentine’s day fic

other tropes and categories

5 + 1 things

amnesia

auction

bets

bond’s break ins

bond’s souvenirs

bond’s swimming trunks, pt 2

bond the conspiracy theory

comfort fics

cooking, pt 2

crack, pt 2

domestic fluff , pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

epistolatory

emotional hurt no comfort

fake relationship, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

fandom iconic fics

fics with good mysteries

fluff, pt 2

friends with benefits

forced proximity

former q feature

funny fics, pt 2

games

getting back together

getting together, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

gift giving, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

hurt/comfort, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

insomnia

kid fic

kinktober

knitting

longfics

madeleine pov

meddling!moneypenny, pt 2

miscommunication

mission fic, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

non slow burn long fics

not actually unrequited love

other 00s

outsider pov, pt 2, pt 3

pets

post nttd

q centric

q has a family

q’s name, pt 2, pt 3

q rennovating skyfall

safe houses

secret relationship

sick fics

smut with a side of relationship development

theatre/drama

[halfbaked00q]

I think we should put Bond in more "normal people" situations where like sure his spy-training social mimicry can get him by, but there's still a limit to what that can do and he will have to defer to Q to actually successfully navigate the situation due to his own lack of real-world experience and like, context with said situation.

[cicerfics]

So, I have been vaguely noodling around with an idea that's, like...

OK, first of all: I choose to headcanon that the SIS has a K9 unit, because why wouldn't they! They have dogs that are trained to sniff out bombs and do all kinds of other things! And I don't know if realistically these dogs and their handlers would be kept anywhere near MI6 HQ...but make-believe land can have anything I want, so they are there now!!

And I always choose to headcanon that Q was a Weird Neurodivergent Kid Who Spent All His Time With Animals Instead of People and had like ten million pets of all different species. But mainly he had cats and dogs, and he's as comfortable with dogs as he is with cats.

And he gave up having dogs when he moved to London full time and got very busy with grad school and MI6, but he still loves dogs very much. So he visits the K9 unit regularly and makes friends with one of the handlers and helps her with training and exercising the dogs. It's like free therapy for Q! It helps him decompress after a bad day! He is soothed by working with these creatures for an hour or two!

And I've been thinking about how maybe one or two of these dogs have been retired from active service but still hang out with the others. Their handlers take the retired dogs home with them at night, and bring them into work in the morning, and the retired dogs get to exercise with the others and stay busy and feel useful! They are also helpful for socializing the newly trained puppies and keeping them in order!

Aaaaand maybe the handler of one of these old dogs has to move away to take care of her sick mother, or something. And she can't take the dog with her. And she's very upset because she doesn't know who will look after this dog now!

And Q is like ☝️🤓 💡

Because, as it happens, there is another old dog lurking around HQ these days who is about to be retired from active service but needs to stay busy and feel useful!

And so Q simply leashes up the dog and hands him to Bond.

Congrats, Bond! You have your very own retired-from-service dog now! He is scarred and grumpy and suspicious of everyone and he has a bad hip! You two are gonna get along GREAT. Also, he needs to go for walkies every morning, and he needs to go swimming every afternoon, and you are going to have to spend two hours a day working with him in the training room or he will fall into a deep depression. And also, he needs a special expensive kidney-health diet and distilled water and regular brushings and nail trimmings. I will teach you all his commands and walk you through his daily routine for the first few weeks until you get used to each other! You two are going to have so much fun together! 🤩

Bond does not want this dog. The dog does not want Bond. But Q is determined, and now Bond is walking this dog around Hyde Park (or the dog is walking HIM) and they're both eyeing each other like...it's rotten work. Especially to me, especially if it's you. I'll do it, but Jesus Christ.

But both Bond and the dog have a strong sense of Duty which carries them through until they can properly get used to each other, and they do become very fond of each other in time!

(Also, I just have a nebulous Thought in my head of Q teaching Bond the dog's routines and commands and giving the dog treats and headrubs, and Bond getting jealous and needing Q to also give HIM treats and headrubs for participating in the Training Routine with the dog. After each training sesh, Q has to have them both sit politely while he feeds them treats and rubs them down and tells them they are Good Boys.

@halfbaked00q, maybe you have more thoughts on this, idk!!)

[pommedepersephone]

Call Me: A 00Q Fic

After the complete debacle of Nine Eyes (and Bond leaving, but that is, like, fine, really, who cares, not the Quartermaster!) Q is determined to prove surveillance can be more targeted and less dystopian-Big-Brother... A story where Q is just FINE ta muchly, Eve Moneypenny is a menace, Bill Tanner is just trying to keep everyone fed and Bond is trying to figure out how to friendship.

Rated M | Chap 1/12 | Updates Sun/Wed

Chapter 1: I'm too smart and weird

The first time Bond relieved Q Branch of a car, he didn’t ask. Somehow, this was all his own fault, Q had decided by the time Eve found him clutching a nearly empty bottle of Bollinger.

written for @celandinebergerac for FTH2024... just in time for signups for FTH2025? Yep.

[nightbirdz]

I can’t believe I’m getting into 00Q in the year 2024

[tenpointsforq]

My brother who I force to watch Bond movies with was getting on my ass because I explained 00Q and he clowned on me for implying james bond CALLS HIM Q IN bed DURING sex. I don’t care what the fic is just write one where he CALLS Q, Q ,in the BED during the SEX. Because I know i’m right … And if you desire most specifics go for hotel room and NOT pre-established relationship

A/N: This is a weird way to one-up your brother but I like the prompt so HERE WE GO.

Mature content under the cut.

---

It was against office policy to fuck one’s coworkers. 

This was, on its face, an intelligent policy for MI6 to have adopted. Firstly, because the line very much had to be drawn somewhere when it came to workplace propriety and since murder was very much on the table, sex was a logical place for some kind of boundary to be drawn. They needed to do something to seem like they were a legitimate workplace. Secondly, it was supposed to cut down significantly on paperwork for MI6’s deeply overburdened HR department, who often were fairly busy filing personnel reports and writing obituaries. 

Q had no issue following this rule. Except. 

Except. 

He had ended up in a ratty, nondescript hotel in Bruz to hand off Agent 007’s next round of passports. He also had a new weapon to replace the one he had used as a truncheon and then discarded into the Black Sea when the magazine ran out. 

“You know, bullets can be re-loaded,” Q said testily as Bond held up his new Walther PPK and grunted with approval. Q’s gaze lingered on Bond’s throat.  

“But then we wouldn’t have occasion to spend time together, would we Quartermaster?” Bond said with a smirk. 

They fell into bed not long after that. 

When Q had imagined sleeping with Bond, and Christ, had he imagined it over and over again, he assumed that Bond would be the one to take charge. Instead, it was Q whose body curled over Bond’s, long fingers buried in his ass and the other gripped tight in his blond hair. 

“Q, fuck, Q-” Bond was noisy when he was the one being taken apart. This was a delightful discovery. Even more delightful was the keening moan the agent made when Q sheathed his cock inside of him, Bond’s muscular thighs splayed open as Q lifted behind Bond’s knees to spread him open. 

Bond reached for his own prick, hard and ruddy against his stomach, and Q batted his hand away. 

“You’ll come from me or not at all,” Q said with a conviction he’d not known that he possessed. Then he shifted himself so that he was driving onto that sweet spot inside of Bond that made the agent’s eyes screw tight and a groan clawed from his throat. 

“Q- Q- Q-” Bond repeated himself over and over again. Sometimes, it sounded like a hymn. Other times, an epithet. Q continued to move inside of Bond, until he felt the man seize around him. The Quartermaster watched as Bond came across his own stomach, and then Q followed him over the edge. 

He withdrew as gently as he could and left briefly to get a cloth to clean them both up with. Then Q curled up beside Bond in the bed and pondered delightedly at his workplace violation. For all the power that his position wielded, nothing was so luxurious as realizing that he could get 007 to come with the Quartermaster’s designation on his lips. 

It would certainly be worth the paperwork when he returned to London. 

[rose-tinted-vision]

Rose's favourite fics

(in no particular order)

part 2 here

Apparently I've linked about 50 fics so I'm sorry, I'm not going to add all the summaries for these fics.

Blue Lock

For Blue Lock I'd recommend checking out smallghosts and explorerseel8's profile

pride hath no place by vani_em (NagiReo)

raison d'être by explorerseel8 (ReoNagi)

Take Five by explorerseel8 (ReoNagi)

truth or drink by smallghosts (ReoNagi)

AITA for “abandoning” my best friend by smallghosts (ReoNagi)

fall forward/spring back by nagireo (NagiReo)

as long as I'm with you by okonomiyakein (NagiReo)

Player 2 by explorerseel8 (HioRin)

Kuroko no Basuke

Please read literally everything by umisabaku

A Kinda Sorta Fairy Tale by Lys ap Adin (MidoTaka)

But I Lived by exuberant_imperfection, kate882 (MidoTaka)

Designation: Miracle (series) by umisabaku (KagaKuro, KiKasa, AkaFuri, AoMomo, MidoTaka)

as small as a world by umisabaku (MidoTaka)

in the liminal darkness by 100demons (MidoTaka)

Haikyuu

(the sad thing is that I read a ton of Haikyuu and KnB fics before I got my ao3 account so it's a slow journey finding all my fav fics again)

I put my hand out, unfolded, into the sunlight by carafin (BokuAka)

I'll give a bouquet to these unending days by sparksandsalt (BokuAka)

love in the time of wifi by dalyeau (BokuAka)

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau (BokuAka)

video games and gold rings by gnomeo (KuroKen)

Ear to Ear by darkmagicalgirl (AoFuta)

Yaku and the Beanstalk by Mysecretfanmoments (YakuLev)

One Piece

For my fellow ZoSan fans: literally everything by Hazel_Athena, Harubo, 8ball, donutsandcoffee and three_days_late are worth checking out

More Ace-centric: Dezace and stormy1x2's fics that make me Feel Things

Wanted by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

Disoriented Envy by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

Can you hear me now? by Alexis_C (ZoSan)

Learning to Listen by three_days_late (ZoSan)

this, at least by adietxt (ZoSan)

come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee (ZoSan)

Late Night with Sanji Black by Harubo (ZoSan)

Love's First Blush by Hazel_Athena (ZoSan)

they said love is reaching blindly at a pit full of snakes by summermidnights (ZoSan)

Complex Buddies by threesipsmore (ZoSan)

you and me somehow by losingcontrolnow (AceSan)

Cryptid Sightings Volume #1: Portgas D. "Fire Fist" Ace by Dezace (Gen, Ace-centric)

Spades On-Screen by stormy1x2 (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

whatever you can still betray by midnightluck (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

Hide the Knives by SrirachaBunny (Gen, Ace/WB pirates-centric)

The Wanderer by MaiKusakabe (Gen, Badass!Marco)

Genshin Impact

For Genshin, I'd recommend heartslogos and smallghosts

Burgeon by gloomyparfait (HaiKaveh)

Forget Your Name (Replace it with mine) by princesscas (Thomato)

the purest form of water by eversall (XingYun)

to be unbroken and brave again by magicities (XiaoVen)

Chonghua's Layered Frost by pureofheart_rareofpair (XingYun)

cloudburst by smallghosts (XingYun)

keep the caffeine away from kids by shynkai (scara-centric, slight HaiKaveh)

The Verdure and the Puppet by kimekosu (Gen, Nahida & Wanderer)

truck, barter and trade by Seungshi03 (Established HaiKaveh, them raising Wanderer)

James Bond (Craig movies)

I remember really liking anything by Jen, skylights, scioscribe, pdameron, and opalescentgold

Memos from Q branch by AviaCarter (Gen, background 00Q)

Sic Pravis Magna by blackidyll (00Q)

ordinary, everyday things by pdameron (00Q)

Dramatic Arts by scioscribe (00Q)

Ordinary Numbers by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria (00Q)