walter ppk

2

Please consider:
Quartermaster!Bond and Agent!Q

1. At first they met at National Gallery, Bond said Q still have spots and Q said his successful mission rate is bigger than Bond other agents in one year

2. Bond gave Q many gadgets (some exploding stuff) but Q chose only radio and Walter PPK, more about personal statement not a killing machine.

3. Q’s methods is different than Bond’s, not by seduction but with clever words and his good sensitivity with woman. And Q is gay, btw.


4. Q still has his incredible hacking skills, he got all his information details by himself.

5. Bond still complaining about Q the new agent to Moneypenny, but in the end he saw how smooth and badass Q in missions he finally stop talking shit about Q.

6. Q always bring gifts for Bond after missions only to tease him. Sex toys from China, lip balm from Korea, or Port DVD from Russia etc.

7. And please imagine all those sexual tension…

@skylocked @chlorobenzene

A Happy Halloween--Steggy drabble

As usual, I’m a day late and a dollar short!. Here’s a little Steggy drabble about Halloween. All you need to know is that Peggy’s been brought from the past to be with Steve. They’re married, and Halloween is approaching. Hope you enjoy it!

A Happy Halloween

On a fine Saturday morning in early fall, Peggy and Steve had just managed to cook themselves a very respectable, and even partially decadent hot breakfast. They had used a truly astonishing number of pans, bowls, and utensils, which were now scattered about the sunny kitchen as they sat down to enjoy the results. Peggy started to open a pile of yesterday’s mail methodically with a letter opener. “Peg, you should eat your breakfast while it’s hot. We have all day to go through the mail,” Steve chided.

“I will, darling,” she answered, taking a bite of her eggs. Steve had started to read the front page of the newspaper. His hair was still mussed from sleep, and when she looked across the table at him, she brushed her bare foot across his under the table. He looked up at her, a smile spreading across his face. Peggy sighed softly; she wondered if his smile would ever fail to make her melt.

As she sorted through the mail, a thick black envelope caught her eye, addressed to “Captain and Mrs. Rogers,” in a florid gold calligraphic script.

“It looks like we’ve been invited to a Halloween party,” Peggy said, as she looked at the contents of the envelope.

“Whose party is it?” Steve said, barely looking up from the newspaper.

“Tony’s. It sounds like fun.”

“You’re not seriously thinking of going.”

“Now that I’ve gotten my footing a bit in the 21st century, don’t you think a party would be fun? I haven’t been to a real party in ages, at least not one that I really enjoyed, since before WWII, in fact.”

“I don’t think you want to start with one of Tony’s parties. They’re a little bit–or a lot–over the top. Hasn’t Natasha ever told you about the one where he showed her how to shoot his palm gauntlets and basically destroyed his own house?”

“I don’t know, that sounds like a memorable party.”

Their conversation wandered to other topics as they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Steve had cleared the table, and Peggy was filling the sink with water when his attention returned to the invitation again. He picked it up and glanced at it. “You didn’t say that this was a costume party.”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that?”

“Yes. And I’m not dressing up.”

“But it says there’s no admittance without a costume. They won’t let you in.”

“I’d like to see anyone try to keep me out of somewhere I want to go. You’re not really going to dress up, are you?”

“Unlike you, I respect traditions, even when they’re not my own. If it says fancy dress, then fancy dress it is.”

“Actually I don’t see the words ‘fancy dress’ anywhere on here,” he quipped, setting the invitation back down on the pile of mail and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Very funny. You know what I mean.”

“So what would you dress up as?”

“Didn’t you read the fine print? It said to come as your favorite hero. I was thinking of asking Natasha to lend me one of her outfits, but it would probably be too tight on me. What do you think?” she asked innocently.

“I think that if you put on a skintight leather jumpsuit,” he said, kissing her neck, “we’ll never make it out to any party.”

“Oh Captain Rogers, what are you implying?” she teased, easing slightly away from him long enough to untie her robe, then touching her body to his, her hips pressed hard against him.

He didn’t answer her question as his mouth was otherwise occupied. She hooked a leg around his waist, and he immediately read her intention, and slid his hands along her thighs and under her to support her weight. She gave a little shriek of delight as he lifted her easily off the ground. She wrapped her other leg around him and he carried her back to the bedroom that they had left scarcely an hour before.

***

Peggy RSVP'ed yes to the invitation, much to Steve’s dismay and Tony’s delight. Over the course of the next several weeks, every time the topic of the party came up, he asked her what she was going to dress up as, and every time she gave him a different answer. She said she was going to borrow some of Barton’s arrows, or Sam’s wings, or that Tony had an extra suit he didn’t need. At one point she asked him some very specific details about his “star-spangled man with a plan” USO uniform, although he was pretty sure she was just trying to scare him. She wouldn’t do something like that, would she? Just to be on the safe side, he had refused to answer.

Steve continued to insist that he wasn’t going to dress up at all.

In addition to their home in Brooklyn, Peggy and Steve had quarters at the Avengers tower for those times when work, a crisis, or just Tony Stark kept them at work late, which was often. The night of the party, Peggy had insisted on meeting Steve there after work, saying that she had a few things to take care of for her costume. “I’ll see you there at eight, darling, and don’t be late,” she said with a wink.

He opened the door of the apartment a few minutes before eight, feeling a little sick to his stomach. Although he had said repeatedly that he was not coming in costume, he had not entirely been telling the truth. It wasn’t a costume, exactly. But once the idea had occurred to him, he couldn’t let it go. He wasn’t sure how she would react.

He didn’t see her in the apartment, although the lights were on. He heard a noise coming from the bedroom. “Peggy?” He called.

“I’ll be out in a minute. Just wait in the living room.”

He turned out the light and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to enjoy the view without the glare. Then he closed his eyes, silently thankful to be here with her. They had been together in the present day for six months now, and he hadn’t taken a moment for granted.

A tap on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie. It was mostly dark, and for a moment he thought his eyes were playing a trick on him. She was wearing a neatly pressed khaki shirt and pants with a matching tie. It was a private’s uniform, exactly like the one he had worn on the day he had gotten Erskine’s serum. “Peggy…you…”

“Do you like my costume, darling? It’s historically accurate, Private Steve Rogers, Camp Lehigh, circa 1943. He’s always been my hero.”

He couldn’t say anything, so he just crushed her to him. After a few minutes, he slowly let go of her, wiping his eyes.

“I see I’m not the only one in uniform,” she said, stepping away a little to look at him, and wiping tears from her eyes, too. He was in his classic olive drab Ike jacket and trousers, a light khaki shirt and dark tie. “But where are your Captain’s bars–” she started to ask. He watched her eyes go from his shoulders, where his silver Captain’s bars should be, to his chest, where there were no medals in evidence, to his upper lapels, which were missing the U.S. pins. The only insignia on the entire uniform were the SSR pins on the lower lapels. Her eyes then took in his sidearm, a Walter PPK. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, she realized: he was wearing her uniform.

“I came as my hero, Peggy Carter, minus the red lipstick. I had to draw the line somewhere.”

“Oh, Steve,” she said as she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly to her.

After they had both composed themselves and scolded each other for keeping secrets, Peggy slid her hands slowly over his chest. “You know, if you want red lipstick on you, darling, anywhere on you, all you have to do is ask,” she said, kissing him. “In fact, you don’t even have to ask.”

Steve shuddered slightly.

They didn’t make it to the party on time, but it was a very happy Halloween.