🔥 What's the pettiest thing they've ever argued about?
🛡️ Who jumps in front of danger for the other without thinking?
💥 What's the biggest risk one of them took for the other that the partner didn't find out about until much later?
I am SO sorry it took so long!!!
🔥 - two queens of petty arguments! i imagine the Pettiest argument they had was something in their work, an emergency, and they. were arguing the same point but in different words.
🛡️- Diana, I think. Would she try to rationalise it? yes. Would it be less 'jumping without thinking' and more 'shoving a scapegoat without thinking'? also yes.
💥 hmm. I can't think of thew exact risk but do I think Diana did Something that Ingrid covered up, risking security and. her job. and just for fun. Diana only finds out after she gets First Desk, after everything's said and done.
playing a bit fast and loose here with the chronology of the show and the UK legalizing same sex marriage. wibbly wobbly timey wimey, just roll with it ok?
Diana stands in her large walk-in closet, paralyzed with indecision. A wedding dress hangs before her. She should be putting it on. She has an appointment at the registry office for eleven sharp. She has a bouquet of calla lilies chilling in her refrigerator. She has a bride, though she wonders if perhaps Ingrid fancies herself the groom.
“We should do it,” Ingrid had whispered when it had finally become legal.
“Why?”
“To make people take us seriously. To stick it to the bigots. Because we can.”
She had not mentioned love.
The gown, crème-colored satin with a full circle skirt, had once belonged to Diana’s mother. Diana had added full length lace sleeves and taken up the hem of the skirt to the familiar tea length of her other dresses. The bodice had needed to be taken in as well, as Diana’s mother had possessed a much more womanly figure. When her mother had bequeathed her the dress, she doubted she meant for Diana to wear it to marry a British Nigerian woman.
“Why now? I like things between us as they are. I don’t need a piece of paper.”
“It would mean a lot to my family. It would make it real to them. It’s different for you.”
Ingrid still had aunties and cousins who believed she just hadn’t met the right man. At least Diana was blessed with parents who were dead and a brother who couldn’t be arsed to care whether she fancied men or women.
“Would I have to give up my flat?” Diana rather liked her flat. “Would we move in together?”
“We’d do whatever we like. Things don’t have to change right away.”
Diana touched the heavy satin of the dress. Something borrowed, but all she felt was blue.
Her mind starts whirring and spinning. Why did Ingrid want marriage? Why now? And what would happen at the Park? Ingrid had assured her it was merely a formality with HR. That, if anything, it would make their relationship more respectable, less like a secret. But Diana had never given a toss about respectable when it came to her love life. What would happen if one of them ever became First Desk—finally became First Desk? They couldn’t be in a supervisory position over the other, it wasn’t allowed.
Diana’s analytical mind spirals further upward and outward, grabbing stray details and gossip and cocktail party conversation, compiling an elegant dossier. Parties Ingrid had been invited to, but she hadn’t. A leadership seminar in Oslo—Diana had been left behind to mind the store at the Park. And last month, a garden party hosted by the Defense Minister. Half of the people there had addressed her as Ingrid’s partner. Not colleague. Partner. Seemed shocked to discover she had a career of her own in MI-5.
Ingrid is clearly being groomed for something. She has poise, intelligence, experience, and decent bona fides—even if they aren’t Diana’s own Oxbridge ones. It occurs to Diana that the only thing Ingrid doesn’t have is an adoring wife at her side.
Diana looks at her mother’s wedding dress, now seeing it for the straitjacket it is. The writing is on the wall. If she marries Ingrid, First Desk-in-waiting, it will be the death of her career. How long before some legal-minded busybody suggests it’s not appropriate for First Desk and Second Desk to be married? Before someone proposes shunting her off to the private sector? Or better yet, hints that Diana should quit work altogether and spend her afternoons ordering canapés instead of drone strikes?
Christ, she’d rather join Lamb at Slough House.
Diana has chewed her bottom lip so hard she’s drawn blood.
It’s not a wedding, it’s neutralization.
Wordlessly, Diana picks up the black dress hanging in her closet and gets ready for work.
--------
Ingrid stops by her office later that day. She’s wearing a dark suit of deepest black superfine, a bit more tailored than what she usually wears. There’s satin piping on the pockets and the lapels.
“Thought you were taking the day off today,” Ingrid says all too casually.
Diana shuffles papers around on her desk in a pantomime of busywork. “With the Five Eyes coming up, I just wanted to check everything over one last time.”
“I see.” Ingrid stands at the door. Behind her glasses, her eyes seem a bit red.
Before she leaves, Ingrid says, “I didn’t go either.”
Diana holds her gaze, nods, and turns back to her work. She knows Ingrid is lying, but she won’t call her on it—she’s broken her heart enough for one day.
picking a fight for the hot sex afterward...like the most Ingridiana thing ever
under a cut, here there be porn
Diana stands in her immaculately clean kitchen, waiting. She’d had a luxuriously indulgent bath, dressed herself in a black silk peignoir and matching robe, and poured herself a tumbler of her second-best whisky.
At 9:05 there’s a knock at the door. Right on cue.
Diana hardly needs to check the peephole to know who is behind the door. “Ingrid, what a surprise,” she drawls.
Ingrid shoves past her, barely taking the time to shuck her bag and coat in the hallway, before launching into a tirade. “Was it really necessary to undermine me in front of the home secretary today, Diana? You have a problem with the operation, you bring it to me first. You start talking out of school and it makes the whole of the Park look bad.”
“Ingrid, dear, the man asked me for my opinion and I gave it honestly.” Diana pours her guest an inch of Glenmorangie, which she accepts with a scowl.
“I could have used that honest opinion before we went to Whitehall. You were fine with the Tbilisi op the last time we spoke.”
Diana circles around her kitchen languidly, making sure Ingrid gets a good glimpse of the silk clinging to her curves. “New information came to light. I showed the schematics to Lamb—”
“To Lamb?!!”
“Yes, to Lamb. And he felt we were spread too thin. That there’s no point in doing it if we’re not going to do it right. And I agree with him.”
“You trust Jackson Lamb’s opinion more than mine? More than the small army of analysts we employ at the Park?” Ingrid asks, fury building in her voice.
Diana lays a hand casually on Ingrid’s arm. “When it comes to field operations? Yes, Ingrid, I do. He was behind the Wall while you were cozied up at your desk.”
If there was anything that got Ingrid riled more than being brought up short with their paymasters, it was Jackson Lamb. Ingrid set down her glass on the counter and stalks Diana like a leopard after its prey. She advances until Diana feels her backside hit the wall. Diana licks her lips in anticipation, breathing heavily.
“Sometimes I think you do these things on purpose,” Ingrid breathes, hands at her waist.
Diana lowers her eyelids, fake demurely, and smirks.
She can sense, rather than see the moment Ingrid’s control snaps.
In a single swift movement, Ingrid flips Diana around. She pins Diana’s wrists against the wall and uses her muscular thigh to spread Diana’s legs apart. Diana lets out a breathy moan. Finally, the reaction she’d been hoping for. Things had been so nice, so normal, so boring between them lately, which was good for national security but made things bloody pedestrian in bed.
Ingrids hands caress her ass. She lifts up the hem of her short nightdress and finds her cunt, bare and swollen. “No knickers? Oh, you tawdry little thing.” She teases her folds, covering her fingers in slick. “You’ve been wanting this all day.”
She removes her hand, leaving Diana bereft, causing her to whimper. “Stay there,” Ingrid commands. Diana complies, body humming, cunt growing wetter with each passing second. She hears Ingrid rummage through her bag, the lewd sound of Ingrid’s zipper sliding down and finally the fastening of buckles and snaps. Her cunt trembles in anticipation, an almost Pavlovian response. And then with very little preamble at all, Ingrid is inside her, thrusting. It’s rough at first without any preparation, though Diana has hardly needed any. It feels bigger from this angle, punishingly thick and large. And Ingrid fills her and fucks her harder than Diana knew she could. Before Diana knows it, she’s coming with an orgasm so powerful she’d probably collapse altogether if it wasn’t for Ingrid’s arm gripping her around the waist.
Later, as they lay together in bed, woozy with afterglow, Ingrid says, “You know if you want me to rough you up or whatever, you could just ask me ahead of time. Instead of picking a fight in front of the suits.”
“Hmm. Oh yes, I suppose,” Diana says noncommittally.
“We could have conversations about these things like normal people. Talk about boundaries, safewords.”
Diana lets out a huff of laughter. “Where would be the fun in that?”
"A kiss in secrecy." Set sometime during s1-s3 when Ingrid is still First Desk.
They always arrived separately at these things. Made sure to work opposite sides of the room, a strategic deployment of Service resources. It leant credence to the assumption that First Desk and Second Desk couldn’t stand one another, their mutual loathing the worst kept secret in British intelligence.
Diana watched Ingrid make the rounds at the state dinner tracing the fine lines of her immaculately tailored tuxedo with her eyes. It was a glamorous little gathering to honor their lately less-than-friendly American friends. And First Desk was always eager to show off how chummy she was with the Americans. Ingrid briefly caught her gaze before turning her head to smile at some blonde undersecretary or other who looked like the third-runner-up from a beauty contest, her face so frozen with chemicals it had left her without the ability to flirt back properly.
Two could play at that game.
Diana, who did still possess the ability to smile though she so rarely had a chance to use it, set her sights on the new ambassador, an oil billionaire and campaign financier. Seeing Ingrid white knuckle her champagne flute was almost worth having to listen to the man suggestively ask if she was familiar with the expression “everything’s bigger in Texas.”
Diana politely excused herself at that point, before she accidentally punctured his spleen with a cocktail skewer.
On the way back from the powder room, warm familiar hands snaked around her waist and dragged her behind the green baize door used by the downstairs staff.
“Poor tradecraft, Diana,” Ingrid purred before swooping down for a possessive kiss. “I could have been an enemy actor.”
Diana licked her lips and pulled Ingrid down by the satiny lapels of her jacket to go in for an even deeper kiss. It threatened to unlock something inside her which couldn’t be consummated here. “You’re the one with poor tradecraft. Snogging me behind the catering trolley where anyone could see.”
“Mmm. But that’s how you like it. A secret in danger of being revealed is your aphrodisiac.”
Diana unwound herself from Ingrid and returned to the reception, icy demeanor masking a greater fire. Their worst kept secret the perfect cover for their best kept one.
send me a number and i'll share the kinktober blurb i had for it
i just answered 28😋
day 29: body worship, omorashi, full body bondage
louisariver riverspider- river full body shibari, tits squeezed up and out, knees tied open and up, arms tied to the bed. the ropes are soft but ties tight, trapping him, theyll leave behind red marks later. spider spends a long time tying everything, teasing river, whispering how good he is, licking over each limb before tying it up. when he's tied up he licks up his cock, teasing and light, enough to have river test his bonds and find himself immobilized. he opens river up slowly enough that he cries, he wants it so bad. but once he's ready spider crawls away, up to his tits. Louisa moves over from the chair she was atching in, gettign ready. she has a strap that's *just* too big. enough that it does fit but pushing rivers limits. spider licks each diamond of skin thats visible through the rope while louisa fucks him. he cums so hard he passes out for a second and when he comes too spiders licking into his open mouth and louisa is still fuckign him. no omorashi but joke about how spider took so long w the shibari that river was like.... what if i have to go pee
day 30: breeding, fucking machine, degredation
o!river. season 3 duffy gets river in the grey room and beats him around, theres the whole 'i can take whatever it is youve got' then hobbs comes in duffy tells him to hold river down while he 'teaches this bitch a lesson'. dubcon because like... river is horny from the situation but would rather not have duffy fuck him raw and in front of hobbs. they get him bent over a table and hobbs holds rivers back down. duffy doesnt let hobbs fuck rivers mouth but hes still like hard right by his face. duffy says stuff like: 'this is where youre meant to be.' 'i knew youd like this you omega slut' 'this is the one thing youre good at cartwright'. anyway river starts squirming and telling duffy not to cum inside him but duffy does. they return him to lamb stinking of duffy and its still dripping out of him. when he gets to louisa she smells it too (alpha) and is concerned but lets him quickly go to the bathroom to clean up. they go over to chieftain and its the same but in his diva monologue he says somthing like 'you come in here reeking of dog' or something. then somehow he says like fine ill show you the file and so louisa waits in the lobby and the second river in is spider office he slams spider up against the wall and is like 'what is your fucking problem'
spider: my problem if you walking in here smelling like duffys fucking cumrag
and then they kiss fight and river is once again bent over a desk and spider is like "look at you, pumped full twice in one day. slut etc" but then he leans in to rivers ear and is like "i bet you itll be mine that take" because he remembers that river has a breeding thing and then hes like "yeah ill get you good and pregnant cartwright, you wont even need to work at slough house" or something and then creampie thursday and spider bites him and then river has to go back to SH with yet another load and anyway yeas
day 31: hot tub sex, foot fetish, writers choice
diana gets home after a long day of bullshit. pours herself some wine. she walks down the corridor and opens the door to the back garden. ingrid is out there in the hot tub already, naked and with an empty glass of wine. diana raises an eyebrow. ingrid goes 'you should have brought the bottle'. diana hands her the glass as she gets undressed, gets into the water. she talks about her day at work and ingrid massages her feet with one hand. when di takes her wine back ingrid kisses her foot. maybe slips a toe in her mouth idk what feet people like. then they have a classy old lady makeout with wine swapping etc. ingrid fingers diana. idk what the choice prompt should be... maybe jealousy/possisive. like diana keeps talking (complainjng) about flyte maybe and ingrid is all like 'have you thought of her like this' while shes fingers in her friday
