#kingsgold fic

[kdramamilfs]

i was tagged by @sapphicscience to list 5 otps from 5 different fandoms, ty <3

person of interest - shoot listen. NO ship has ever made me feel as unwell as they do. i spent literal months crying myself to sleep over youtube amvs, changed my life for better or for worse idk you decide (its both). alsooo ive literally never seen two women flirt in such an unhinged way on tv before <3

warehouse 13 - bering and wells make me almost as insane as shoot does honestly.... the amount of fic i consumed when i first got into them is unreal probably. and ive never been in a fandom with fic as outrageously good as this one. cried myself to sleep over them so often (this is extremely positive) like.... when you just keep losing her and then she dies for you and you need to change the whole timeline just to get her back only to lose her again? 'forever destined to meet at gunpoint'?? okay okay okay

the expanse - draomi i cannot even decide what makes me worse. canon unrequited love or literally anything else. risking everything for the woman you love despite that? 'and i thought you came to check on me'............. kill me

unREAL - kingsgold i love toxicity i love whatever the FUCK those two had going on i love you I LOVE YOU youre fired

line of duty - flemson its so fun when you put an outrageously pitiful sad little lesbian whose entire storyline is a homophobic mess together with a woman who gives her a little hope only to destroy her fully and then try to save her again. isnt it? isnt it?? if youre sensing a theme here its just that i love heartbreak and being in pain

tagging @lonely-night @viharistenno @ladyalayne @deankarolina @natscatorrcio @wistfulwatcher @craintheodora if you feel like it and anyone else who wants to do this <3

[regardstosoulandromance]

aside.

rating: general pairing: rachel/quinn (kingsgold) summary: Chet and Quinn have a conversation directly after the events of season four. 

read on ao3 here, or below

If he’d learned anything from Everlasting, it was that he didn’t understand the first thing about women. He pretended to at first, but Quinn had uprooted everything and merely left him in awe of her and of womanhood in general. That’s why he didn’t question Rachel, pie in hand, showing up on his doorstep. She was there for Quinn, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

He’d heard the talk around set, the whispers- Rachel was Quinn’s favorite, Rachel was Quinn’s dragon, Rachel was Quinn’s girl, Rachel was Quinn’s- but he’d never thought anything of it. Rachel was Quinn’s protégée so of course people thought she got preferential treatment.

“I love her,” he told Rachel, and she nodded.

“Me too.”

So he let her in, and pointed her in the direction of the bedroom, although she seemed to already know the way. That was several hours ago, and he now followed the path Rachel had taken, quietly letting himself into the bedroom.

Quinn lay in bed, on her back, with Rachel asleep in her arms. They were tangled together, Rachel’s head on Quinn’s chest, her arm around Quinn’s middle. Quinn, for her part, was still awake, gently petting Rachel’s hair. She saw Chet come in, but with the exception of moving her eyes to meet his gaze, didn’t move.

“She’s asleep,” Quinn said, barely audible.

Chet sat down beside her, on the edge of the bed, watching them. Quinn’s cheek was pressed against the top of Rachel’s head. The both looked more at ease then he’d even seen them. They fit.

“She loves you,” he said.

Chet had always assumed that Quinn’s feeling for Rachel were of the more maternal variety. But in this moment it seemed more complex, deeper, and more intimately passionate than feelings of a mother and daughter- of boss and employee.

“I know,” Quinn replied softly. She smiled, content.

He thought back to all the times Quinn had fought for Rachel, even when it seemed insane. The way a fight with her seemed to cut Quinn deeper than anything else. Now looking at them, it made sense.

“I love you,” Chet pressed.

Quinn broke his gaze, looking down at Rachel’s sleeping form instead. Rachel shifted in her sleep, wrapping her arm tighter around Quinn’s middle.

“I love you too but it’s... different,” Quinn said, after a moment, “How I feel about you and how I feel about her.”

“Without me,” Chet said slowly, “You’re fine, great even. But without her-”

He paused and Quinn looked back up at him, eyes rimmed wet, “Chet,” she breathed.

“Without Rachel it’s like you’ve lost something, like you walked into a room and forgot what you came for, you know?” He said, “When it’s you two together, you’re unstoppable, and you’re happy.”

Quinn didn’t reply, she just kept watching him sadly.

“You love her too, don’t you?” Chet asked, quietly.

“Yes,” Quinn’s voice was thick with emotion, “I do.”

“Okay, well kiddo, if she’s what makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way,” he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Quinn’s forehead, “I mean it is kinda hot.”

Quinn laughed quietly, but grabbed his hand as he stood. She’d begun to cry, tears leaving salty tracks across her face.

“Thank you,” she said.

In her arms, Rachel stirred, mumbling, “Quinn?”

“Hey, little weirdo,” Chet said, “You take care of Quinn, okay?”

“M’kay,” Rachel said, still half asleep.

Chet squeezed Quinn’s hand one last time, before dropping it. He walked to the door, but before he shut it, he glanced back in to see Quinn take off her engagement ring, then kiss the crown of Rachel’s head, whispering, “It’s just going to be us now, okay Rach? Just us.”

[eggcessive]

home

chapter 1: stay

AN: this is season 4, syd @lattefoam and i are now officially on the unreal writing staff! i was gonna write this as a quick oneshot but then syd came up with a million amazing things so we're gonna be writing this taking turns each chapter. we love to suffer!

-

“Quinn, it’s me.”

The phone weighs heavy in her hand. The wooden panels of her deck are hard under her, the back of her head boring into them, everything heavy. Voicemail, again.

“I need you.”

-

read more

[aeryns]

i need my girl

the one where rachel moves in with quinn during the season break and there are lots of unmentioned feelings

It’s the impending separation that has you motivated to do something. Quinn doesn’t need you, not like you need her, and even though she loves you, in whatever fucked up way she’s capable of, you know that letting her leave now is letting her spend the next few months not thinking about you at all. You find her and you make your move, and she responds.

words: ~4.3k

ship: king’s gold chapter 1 of ? summary:  rachel always disappears during the hiatus. but she has no where else to go, and when rachel is lost, she always comes back to quinn.

READ BELOW OR ON AO3

It’s the end of the season, and both you and she have plans to separately disappear and gather up just enough energy to survive when it’s time to start shooting for the next season. She’ll fill her schedule with networking events, you’re sure, even though she would never accept any deal that would make her leave Everlasting, and you’ll try to find yourself again, somewhere away from cameras and manipulation, where your mother couldn’t find you if she tried.

It’s the impending separation that has you motivated to do something. Quinn doesn’t need you, not like you need her, and even though she loves you, in whatever fucked up way she’s capable of, you know that letting her leave now is letting her spend the next few months not thinking about you at all. You find her and you make your move, and she responds.

She’s going to break your heart, but that’s something you knew already. You’ve known it since the day you met her, if you’re being honest. It’s a detail that doesn’t so much seem to matter when her mouth is biting at your shoulder, nails scratching down your back as you thrust your hips up against hers in the control room.

You have her pinned against the wall, skirt hitched up to allow her thighs to wrap around your waist. Her hands find their way to your ass, and she slips them down the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing hard. It presses your hips up into her further, and she hisses with delight, her mouth trailing from your shoulder back up to your neck, her teeth sinking into the skin there almost possessively. You move your hands to her thighs, angling your hips so that she’s held up only by you pinning her against the wall, and you push your fingers further up her legs, under the skirt that really needed to disappear, like, yesterday, and she drops her head back against the wall in anticipation. You want to take a second to breathe it all in – you have Quinn King pressed up against the wall with your hand up her skirt, and she’s smiling like that – but know that the second you stop, the moment will pass, and you’re not willing to risk her coming back to her senses just yet.

Your fingers find her underwear, and she lets out a contented sigh as you push past wet fabric to press into her. You find a quick rhythm, and she rocks her hips into you as best she can in her position, and it takes little more than a brush of your thumb over her clit for her to hiss out an out-of-breath oh fuck and come for you. She’s more disheveled than you’ve ever seen her, lipstick smudged and hair rumpled, and the word beautiful crosses your mind, but you’re smart enough not to let it pass your lips. She takes a second to breathe before letting her feet find the ground and tugging at your belt, and you want nothing more than to let her continue, but you know you have to stop her. This was just sex to her, and it’s not to you, and you can’t let her do that.

“Quinn,” you say, stopping her movement. She makes eye contact with you for the first time since this started, and she pauses before composing herself and smirking back at you with that typical Quinn King confidence.

“You were good, Goldberg.” She doesn’t bother fixing her clothes, despite the fact that her skirt is still sitting dangerously high on her leg and her blouse is open too far to really be work appropriate. She smooths her hands over her hair and gives you a look. When you don’t respond, she gives a sort of approving nod and leaves.

Jeremy, of all people, finds you there hours later. The screens have gone black and you’re stuck staring at them like they have some kind of answer to a question you don’t even know how to ask. “Hey,” he says, sitting down next to you. “Another season down.” It’s conversational enough, but there’s an undertone of something heavier, the unspoken I want you back and if only you weren’t so batshit insane that always hangs between you two. He only wants the version of you that isn’t about a second away from diving off the deep end, and Quinn only wants you on the brink of madness. It’s a fun game of tug of war for everyone except you, and you’ve spent enough of the season putting up with his special brand of bullshit that you really can’t deal now, so you stand.

“Sorry,” you say. “Uh, I just remembered I have to go. It’s, like, a family thing. But I’ll see you next season. Have a great break.”

He doesn’t say anything, and you stumble out into the daylight, wincing at how bright the sun is. You find your way to your car, a cheap, beat up thing you only got when you realized you wouldn’t have a place to go once the set was closed, and start it up.

You don’t know where you’re driving to, but away is good enough, and you don’t look at the mansion shrinking in the rearview mirror.

It takes about three and a half weeks of living out of your car, driving up and down the coast of California, before you end up in front of her house. It’s not that you don’t have the money to get an apartment. Living on set means you’ve managed to save almost all of the money you earned this season. It’s just that there’s no place that feels enough like home to bother settling in. You always gravitated back to her, anyways. It’s one of the few certain inevitabilities in your life, no matter how much you try to break free.

Quinn’s surprised when you call. “Rachel? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer. “Uh, I’ve just been thinking about next season, and I think I have some really good ideas for suitors, and-”

You’re rambling, because there’s no good way to say Oh, hey, Quinn, I’m parked in front of your house because I’m insane and you’re the closest thing to family I have so can I crash at your place for a bit, and Quinn’s the one who’s good at cutting to the point. “Slow down.” Quinn’s voice is comforting in it’s familiarity, and it really should be more sad than it is that your boss is the closest person in your life. “We’ve got months until next season. What’s this about? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine-”

“Where are you? You’re not with Olive, are you?”

The concern in Quinn’s voice is palpable, and it’s always given you a sort of thrill how protective she gets over you, at least whenever your mother’s concerned. “No.” You huff out a laugh. “Actually, I’m at your place.”

“You’re where?”

“I’m parked outside.”

You look up at the building and see the curtain on a second-floor window move just slightly. She’s looking at you. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just swing by to say hi?”

“You know that’s not what we do.” There’s silence on the line for a second, and you realize how easy it would be for her to send you away. There’s no reason for you to be here. There’s no reason for her to keep you around. “I’m coming down.”

[kristenbouchard]

the thing is that. oh the thing is that miranda priestly and quinn king are very much the same character but quinn barks where miranda is quiet

[farminglesbian]

The plastic inlay crackles softly before Quinn positions another chocolate before Rachel's mouth.

She hums in response, her lips touching Quinn's fingers for half a second before snatching it.

Earlier, she'd designated it her side of the bed, prompting a rare laugh from Quinn. "Try telling that to Chet", she'd chastised, twinkle in her eye.

Aside from these arguably expensive chocolates, Fiona had also sent flowers. Quinn had always hated lilies. Fiona must have chosen to forget that.

(Nobody actually came to see Quinn.)

(Not after losing the baby. Not after losing--and she felt almost, almost ashamed for thinking it--her actual baby -- the villa, the set, the studio.)

It had, ironically, been Everlasting's biggest hit in the end. (Bigger than the suicide, than Anna leaving Adam at the altar. Bigger even than the rape revenge.)

They'd told Chet nothing, which was how he eventually knew. (They hadn't denied anything, either. That much he deserved after all the fires they'd previously put out together.) (Or, as others would see it, after all the things they'd conspired to commit to the flames.)

There was an Oh No Magazine cover story. A press release, a police investigation. There was a report, and a bundle discreetely swapped from one inside of a coat to another, Quinn's hand lingering a bit too long in mid-air, making sure the officer was getting her full meaning.

There were no dead. Rachel can't quite feel relieved about it--after all, the loss they suffered is still palpable. But for once, there're no bodies in her wake.

Quinn feels Rachel's jaw move against her chest, her semi-obscene moaning causing a reaction some place lower.

"Dude, this is the best thing I've ever had in my mouth!"

Quinn raises an eyebrow, breaks eye conctact to turn away, laughing. It's not a fully unfolded laugh yet, but it's getting there. Rachel grabs the considerable box while Quinn's not looking.

"HEY! Gluttony girl! Which one of us went through a disgusting, degrading ordeal with her legs spread wide and some guy poking around in her vagina? Those are my consolation price."

"Are we talking about the conception or the abortion?"

Quinn's laugh crescendos, she mock-smacks Rachel's dark brown mane, and then her hand doesn't go away, ends up absentmindedly stroking.

Rachel's phone is turned off against all inquiries, the worried ones and the we-would-like-to-ask-you-a-couple-of-questions ones alike. She loses track of time, deliberately so, falls asleep on the side that smells less and less of manly care products, head on a pillow that is starting to shape to her head.

At breakfast, Rachel sits on her usual stool--close to Quinn, a respectful distance away from Chet. It's not an unfamiliar scene, only with the slight difference that a sharply cut rock catches sunrays as Quinn reaches across the table for the low-fat butter.

In two weeks, they'll be meeting new networkers, fresh ideas in store. They'll act shocked and upset for the press about the end of Everlasting, and hand out congratulations to Graham who's willingly signed himself over to star in the inevitable reboot.

"I know how much it means to you to have her back", Chet is telling Quinn, squeezing her hand before he walks back inside.

Quinn doesn't tell Rachel to get a move on.

_

[shit-before-the-shovel]

[lightsaroundyourvanity]

my opus of a fic was always going to be a multifandom fic with a heavy kingsgold slant where rachel and quinn were the masterminds behind a gay are you the one season where all the contestants were multifandom ships

anyway i’ve said this a few times but maybe.... now that are you the one is doing a queer season..... it is Time......

[1995lahaine]

literally thanks for opening my third eye to that kingsgold fic where they essentially go on a road trip ive read it upwards of 5 times and its keeping my crops watered

hNGG WISH I COULD CLAIM THIS BUT IVE NEVER READ NOR REC’D KINGSGOLD I DONT THINK??

[baranskini]

Demons of the Heart

My first Kingsgold fic! Hope you enjoy! http://archiveofourown.org/works/10937799

[wistfulwatcher]

Heyy! Would you happen to have any Quinn/Rachel fics to recommend?? I miss them so much! Can't wait till season 3!!!

SAME ANON SAME I miss them so much! I haven’t been reading much fic lately (and there isn’t much for them to begin with) but yes, I do have a few recs :)

the world and the way by sharkfights

don’t get cut on my edges by kingsgold

if you had a twin i’d still choose you by sharkfights

hope someone’s gonna take me home by sharkfights

it will never be something more, right? by anabanana

we walk as tall as the skyline by quinnking

[regardstosoulandromance]

chapter ten: i thought that love was a kind of emptiness // in which Quinn reflects, Rachel makes a phone call, and Mike gets into (another) fight

read here on ao3 or below

Quinn loved it when girls cried during elimination, the messier the better. Waterproof mascara had been permanently banned from set, so every black streaked tear that ran down Maggie’s face showed up on camera as Vanessa cut her, Tanner, and Joseph.

But Quinn didn’t like tears that were her own, leaving wet tracks across her face as she tried to angrily swipe away any evidence. Unfortunately that didn’t change the fact that crying left her nose and eyes rimmed red.

Rachel had produced the group date and the elimination ceremony beautifully. She’d channeled her anger into pushing the contestants to their limits and now they had two cat fights, one breakdown, and so many perfect shots to edit though. Then, as soon as they’d cut for the evening, Rachel left, without even a backward glance as she stormed off set. She hadn’t even looked at Quinn for the rest of the day and then she had taken her Jeep and driven off into the night.

Quinn finished her four glass of whiskey. She was torn on whether or not to head home for the night. On one hand, her bed would still smell like Rachel, but on the other, she knew that for the first time in a long time the large expanse of down and warmth would feel far too empty.

She turned on the security camera feed, scrolling through each one. Chet was walking alone near the crew trucks. Quinn considered this. It would be easy to find him, to casually run into him. Then one thing would lead to another, as it usually did. She knew that if she went to find Chet she wouldn’t be spending the night alone.

But that wasn’t what she wanted, not really. Going back to Chet, again, would just complicate things. Quinn closed her eyes. Her feelings for Rachel left her heart pounding, and fear raced through her bloodstream whenever she thought about what she’d almost said last night in the heat of the moment. And then she’d fucked it up.

She had to fix it. For all the times they’d fallen apart, they’d always had time to fix things again. But now it felt like the walls were closing in, like their stalker circled as a wolf would before striking, like time was running out. Quinn was not going to lose Rachel to this monster making their lives miserable.

Opening her eyes, Quinn clicked through a couple more feeds when something caught her eyes. The footage was dark and grainy, but, yes that was definitely Leo knocking on the door to the Suitress suite. She switched the view to inside the suite, and was surprised to find the camera uncovered.

Quinn watched as Vanessa let Leo in, her body language seductive and flirty the entire time.

“It looks like an old dog can learn new tricks,” Quinn murmured to herself as she watched Leo kiss Vanessa, and Vanessa begin to inviting his shirt.

It was voyeuristic, but Quinn couldn’t look away and instead poured herself another whiskey. It was information gathering to better produce both Leo and Vanessa, or so she told herself.

As Vanessa leaned back on the bed, and Leo crawled on top of

…

As she started on the long drive back up to her cabin, Rachel fumbled one-handedly with her phone, searching for a number she should have deleted a year ago.

Setting it to speaker, she listened to it ring as she drove through the darkness.

“Rachel?” The familiar voice made her skin crawl, “I didn’t expect to ever hear from you again. Is something wrong?”

“Where are you?” She asked, trying to keep everything but cold questioning out of her voice.

“I’m really glad you called,” he said, “Are you still working at Everlasting?”

After a pause, Rachel said “Yeah, yeah I am.”

“It’s going to kill you Rachel,”

That’s exactly what she was worried about. She left that ominous statement hang in the air as she turned a corner, driving farther and farther away from the city lights.

“Where are you?” She asked again.

“I’m in Oregon, I got a place up here, a nice job. I think you’d like it.”

“How long have you been there?”

“About six months.”

“And you haven’t come to California at all? Can you prove it?” Rachel pressed.

“No I really can’t, Why are you really calling? What’s this about?”

“I-“ I think you’re planning on killing me and Quinn, “I thought I saw you. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t you.”

“Did you want it to be me?” Her phone was so clear that for a moment it sounded like she wasn’t alone in her car.

“No. I don’t want to ever see you again,”

“How’s Quinn?”

Rachel’s heart leapt to her throat. It was him. It had to be him. She could feel all her fear and anxiety bundled in her chest, it was like an enormous weight was holding her down.

“She’s fine.”

“From you’re tone of voice it doesn’t sound like it. I know you don’t want to hear this-“

“Then don’t say it.”

“- but she really doesn’t care about you. I know she probably makes you think she does, but you’re just a tool to her, Rachel.”

She thought about the night before, in Quinn’s office when she began to cry. She thought about Quinn holding her so tight, the feeling of Quinn’s lips moving against her temple, Tell me what’s wrong, tell me how I can fix it, Rachel, you’re scaring me sweetheart.

“You’re wrong, Quinn cares about me a lot!” Her words came out sharp, but raw, with a edge of emotion. She hadn’t realized she was crying until her tears hit the tops of legs and blurred her vision. Rachel gripped the steering wheel.

“Maybe, in her own twisted way, she does think she cares about you, but it’s not real Rachel,” the connection was beginning to cut in and out.

“Just leave us alone!” Rachel cried, “Stop sending the letters and photos and just leave us alone!”

There was silence, then her phone makes a fast beeping sound. When Rachel reached to check her phone, she realized she’d driven so far out that she’d lost the signal.

The call was over.

…

Vanessa sighed with pleasure, and Quinn knew a real orgasm when she heard one. She knew she shouldn’t be watching, not real time at least, but Vanessa’s fucked up life was an easy distraction from her own.

Leo rolled over, pulling the blankets up around them. Vanessa smiled, kissing him softly, before getting up and slipping on a robe. Leo, much like most men Quinn had known, fell asleep almost immediately.

She disappeared off camera for a moment, and Quinn was going to turn off the feed, but then Vanessa reappeared, throwing a towel over the camera.

Quinn sat back, surprised. Vanessa wasn’t the idiot she’d assumed. She knew exactly what she was doing.

…

She lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. It had been hours since the phone call, and hours since she’d showered and gotten into bed, but sleep still eluded her. Every time she closed her eyes it was just Quinn, Quinn, Quinn behind her eyelids.

Last night had been grief sex, or something akin to it. Grief sex’s cousin, the thing that happened when you were terrified for your life and needed to feel something, even if it was just for a little while.

But of course it was Rachel, and it was Quinn, and they couldn’t just be okay. It was as if the universe wouldn’t allow it. Instead Quinn had hidden the danger they were in from her, she decided not to tell her that a crazy stalker was taking photos of them, and now her mother knew.

Rachel groaned. Olive Goldberg knew. Someone had sent her photos of Rachel on top of Quinn, Quinn with her shirt off, Rachel kissing the soft skin between Quinn’s breasts. It was modifying.

Pushing all thoughts of her mother from her mind, Rachel let her hand slip beneath the waistband of her underwear. She thought about how Quinn had asked, voice gentler than normal, permission to touch her. Rachel pretended her hand was Quinn’s, that Quinn was lying beside her again, getting her off. She was still angry at being kept in the dark, but she ached, oh how she ached, for Quinn’s touch again.

With the thought of Quinn, she got herself off, but it wasn’t as satisfying as she wanted it to be. But it did tire her enough that soon Rachel’s eyes were fluttering shut of their own accord, and she was slipping into a sleep where her dreams would only be of Quinn, and whatever horrors awaited them.

…

“Camera C pushing in on Leo,” Quinn said into her walkie as Leo approached the breakfast table.

“Good morning gentlemen,” Leo said on screen with a smile, “How did everyone sleep?”

Rachel slipped in the back, Quinn didn’t need to turn to see and simply snapped, “Over here Goldberg.”

She also didn’t need to look to know that Rachel rolled her eyes as she dropped down into the chair beside where Quinn stood. Nevertheless, Quinn pushed a coffee towards her. It was a peace offering that was met with suspicious eyes.

“Don’t think you can gift your way out of this-” Rachel whispered as Quinn turned her laptop to face her and hit play.

“What you missed last night,” she said, cutting Rachel off.

Rachel leaned forward to watch, taking a sip of the coffee. It was muted but the screen was replayed the feed from Vanessa’s room.

“She had this covered…” Rachel murmured in confusion. Quinn waited a few moments for Rachel to see what they were doing, then reached over and fast forwarded to the part where Vanessa recovered the camera.

“She knew exactly what she was doing,” Quinn said, hand resting on the back of Rachel’s chair, “I want you to talk to her today, figure out what she’s planning because there is a plan there. Okay?”

Rachel nodded, then seemed to remember she was mad at Quinn and glanced up at her, tight lipped and through narrowed eyes, “Whatever you say boss.”

Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes back to the monitors where Mike had turned beat red. Leo was leaning back in his chair, arms behind his head.

“Take that back,” Mike all but snarled.

Leo continued to grin, “Just because you’re too much of a little boy to make a move doesn’t mean we all can’t. Vee was screaming my name all night, on her back, just how I like ‘em.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Mike said.

“Camera A, zoom in on Mike. Camera B, Leo,” Quinn said.

“Cmon Mikey, it’s all just fun, I’m sure you’ve said your share about Vee after a day of feeling her up on the ice,” Leo jeered and that’s when Mike’s fist connected with his jaw.

And with that, Quinn cheered.

[regardstosoulandromance]

chapter nine: if you were church, i’d get on my knees // in which quinn and rachel have a conversation without words, vanessa plays diplomat, and there’s an uninvited guest at everlasting 

read here on ao3 or below

The bed was king sized, a vast expanse for Quinn’s small frame, but the perfect size for two women to stretch out comfortably. Nevertheless, the laid close, nearly a hair's breadth from each other, not touching.  

Rachel stared. She could feel the warmth of Quinn’s body, so so close to her, but still so far. She was scared, scared of whatever was haunting her, but in this moment she felt calm. Quinn was there, and for better or worse, Quinn felt home like home than any truck or other person or cabin in the woods.

She reached across the gap, fingertip barely touching Quinn’s collar bone through the gap above the button of Quinn’s silk pajamas. Rachel had opped for the old  college sweatshirt Quinn had pulled from the back of her closet, but turned down the flannel pajama pants she’d been offered.

Quinn lifted a hand, taking Rachel’s and lacing their fingers together, pressing their hands to her chest. Rachel could feel Quinn’s heart beat, beating under her palm.

Tears pricked the edges of Rachel’s eyes. Quinn untangled their hands to gently so she could wipe away her tears. Her hand was warm, cupping Rachel’s face as she swiped away the salty tear trails with her thumb. Rachel took a shaky breath, body trembling as she tried to hold it in.

“Why is this happening?” She asked, voice cracking.

“I don’t know,” it was an honest answer, the words soft and sad from Quinn’s lips.

An hour ago, Rachel had gone back to her truck to get some sleep, but when she’d pulled down the back, shutting herself in, she’d found that the inside of the roll up door had been wallpapered with photos of Coleman and Yael.

MURDERER, Had been written across the photos in dripping red paint, YOU KILLED US.

Rachel had all but run to Quinn’s office, a panic attack building in her chest with each step. It was Quinn’s gentle touch that let the floodgates burst. Once Quinn had understood what happened she took control, locking Rachel’s truck and taking her back to her place.

Now they lay side by side and Rachel wanted to kiss Quinn. It was different than normal, she almost always wanted to kiss Quinn, but now she thirsted for Quinn’s kiss. It was a desperate need born out of fear and fed by exhaustion. She wanted to feel safe again, she wanted to feel like she in control, and her sleep deprived brain told her that that truth was hidden in Quinn’s lips.

“Rachel,” Quinn said, quiet, but with a warning edge. Rachel was staring at Quinn’s mouth.

Unblinking, she lifted her hand again, this time tracing a fingertip along the scar at the edge of Quinn’s lip. And Quinn let her. Rachel leaned forward, closing the gap between their mouths.

Quinn closed her eyes before Rachel reached her, lips parting in anticipation of the inevitable. But she wasn’t passive like on the couch. Quinn kissed back, teeth and tongue against hers, kissing Rachel back with just as much hunger and passion.

As they kissed, Rachel’s hands found the buttons of Quinn’s pajama top, tugging them apart. Her world was spinning out of control, but here, in Quinn’s bed, she could take the control she craved.

Rachel continued popping open the buttons, rolling to straddle Quinn’s waist. She ducked her head, kissing her way down Quinn’s newly exposed skin as she pushed the shirt off of Quinn’s shoulders.

Quinn’s head fell back against the pillows with the softest sigh, her hands moving up to thread through Rachel’s hair. Her fingernails scraped against Rachel’s scalp as Rachel’s mouth moved lower and lower along Quinn’s abdomen and Rachel could hear Quinn’s breathes grow sharper. Her tongue dipped into Quinn’s navel and Rachel heard her gasp.

“We shouldn’t,” Quinn said, breathless, but not very convincingly.

Rachel moved to nuzzle Quinn’s throat, “Do you want me to stop?” she asked between kisses peppered along her jawline. Rachel’s knee pressed between Quinn’s legs, against the heat that was pooling there. One hand braced herself on the bed and the other cupped Quinn’s breast, thumb drawing slow circles.

She needed this, she needed the control. Everything felt like it was spiraling and it was only magnified by the stress and fear. But this felt right, Quinn felt right. Rachel wanted to map her body with her mouth, she wanted to learn how to elicit every little noise with her touch and tongue.

Quinn’s hips twitched, pressing into Rachel’s knee, grinding against her, “No,”

“No, what Quinn?”

Two fingers caught Quinn’s nipple and pinched. Quinn moaned and arched up against Rachel.

“Don’t stop,” Quinn managed and Rachel smiled against her skin.

Rachel sat up and with a single, fluid movement, pulled off her sweatshirt, tossing it aside. Her smile widened as she saw the pretty flush that stained Quinn’s cheeks.

She then moved off of her, causing Quinn to make a little sound of frustration at the loss of contact, and signaled for Quinn to lift her hips so Rachel could finish undressing her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Rachel murmured, not even thinking about what she was saying as her eyes raked down Quinn’s body.

Leaning down she kissed Quinn again. She couldn’t get enough of the taste of her lips. Quinn cupped Rachel’s face in both hands, thumb swiping across Rachel’s cheekbones.

“Rachel, I-“ Quinn began, then stopped and pulled her in for another kiss.

As the broke apart, Rachel reached down and ran a fingertip between Quinn’s already slick folds. Quinn made an impatient noise. Taking the hint, Rachel slid a single digit into her, then added a second, finding a quick pace to press into her.

The thought that she was being too rough briefly crossed her mind, but Quinn then rocked her hips, meeting Rachel’s thrusts with her own as she hands balled into the sheets. She could feel Quinn’s inner walls flutter around her fingers as she added a third.

Rachel pressed her thumb against Quinn’s clit, hard, and Quinn gasped in pleasure. Rachel smiled, watching Quinn’s face as her mouth dropped open, her messy hair fanned out across the pillow.

“Rach…” Quinn moaned, and Rachel realized just how close to orgasming she was. But, for the night, Rachel was in control. She was in control of herself, her actions, and most of all, Quinn’s pleasure.

She lifted her fingers to her mouth, sucking away the juices as Quinn groaned in frustration, running a hand through her hair.

Rachel then leaned down, kissing Quinn’s navel before moving lower, lower, lower-

“Fuck!” Quinn cried as Rachel kissed her clit.

One of Quinn’s hands reached out blindly, managing to grab Rachel’s hair. Rachel held Quinn’s hips down as she swiped her tongue along Quinn’s entrance.

Her mouth made quick work, tongue circling and lips leaving feather soft kisses. Her teeth grazed that most sensitive bundle of nerves, pronounced with arousal, drawing a cry of pleasure from Quinn as she came against Rachel’s mouth.  

Resting her cheek against the inside of Quinn’s thigh, Rachel watched as Quinn relaxed onto the bed in the afterglow. She watched as her breathing calmed.

Rachel crawled up to rest her head in the crook of Quinn’s neck, arms wrapped around her middle. Quinn kissed the top of her head, and began to gently pet her hair.

Closing her eyes, Rachel took a deep breath. A peace settles over her, and she felt safe and warm. As much as she enjoyed sex, there was always an air of uncertainty to it, a flash of leftover fear and anxiety from her childhood bedroom all those years ago. But with Quinn it was different. It was safe.

Quinn slowly traced soft patterns on Rachel’s arm, on the curve of her hip, the top of her thigh, letting her hand drift lower and lower. Then she stopped, hovering mid air.

“Is this okay?” Quinn asked, lips moving against her scalp.

Rachel rolled her hips open, giving Quinn easier access, “Yeah,” she breathed.

Quinn’s hand slid lower and Rachel sighed as she felt two fingers circle her clit, slowly at first, then moving faster.

Rachel turned her head, letting her moans of pleasure become muffled in Quinn’s shoulder while Quinn continued to stoke her hair. She whispered encouraging words as Rachel trembled in her arms.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Quinn said, “I’ve got you. That’s my girl.”

Her hips twitched. The heat that was pooling in her stomach felt almost unbearable, and Rachel didn’t realize that she was saying Quinn’s name over and over again, punctuated with begs, with “please” and “I need-“.

With a gasp, Rachel came. That familiar dizzy feeling exploded behind her eyes as she limbs felt tingly. When the feeling subsided,she opened her eyes, stretching up to kiss Quinn just under her ear. Rachel felt Quinn’s arm tighten around her.

With heavy eyelids, Rachel setting against Quinn’s shoulder again, feeling safe and sated.

“I love you,” she murmured, just as she drifted to sleep.

…

Quinn woke up to Rachel stirring in her arms, she’d rolled over, but hadn’t left Quinn’s embrace. Neither had dressed after sex, and the soft skin to skin contact was something Quinn hadn’t had in a long time. She slowly ran a hand along the smooth skin of Rachel’s hip, her face flushing at the memory of Rachel’s lustful gaze taking over her body.

Rachel stilled and slept on, so Quinn pressed a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder and carefully slipped out of bed.

She dressed quietly and began to put her makeup on, every now and again stealing glances at the sleeping woman in her bed.

Quinn wanted to box up her feels for Rachel and leave it on her nightstand. She’d been able to that so easily with everyone else she’d been with, with John and Chet. But just like Rachel herself, Quinn felt like her emotions were larger than life, spiraling out of control. It was addicting and terrifying all at the same time.

She’d almost told Rachel she loved her.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t told her before, hadn’t grabbed her by the shoulders and said I love you, I LOVE you before firing her, but a confession of love was different when it was in the middle of a breakdown verses when it was whispered in bed.

From across the room, Rachel yawned and stretched, interrupting Quinn’s thoughts. She blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before Quinn said, “It’s about time you got up.”

Rachel pulled the sheet around her, sitting up. Quinn turned back to her makeup but she could feel Rachel watching her. She didn’t have glanced over to know what look it was, either. She was studying Quinn, probably trying to figure out where they stood after last night’s events.

As if Quinn knew.

After a few minutes, Rachel rolled out of bed and walked over to lean against the bathroom door frame, all while dragging the sheet with her.

Quinn glanced at her in the mirror. With her shoes off, Quinn was shorter than Rachel by a couple inches. Rachel met her gaze, then stepped forward, leaning down to kiss Quinn’s shoulder, exposed in her sleeveless dress.

“Stop that,” Said Quinn, a slightly annoyed lilt to her voice, still rough from sleep.

“Stop what?” Rachel asked.

“Looking at me like that,” Quinn said. She tried to sound gruff but if she was honest with herself, Quinn didn’t want the moment to end.

Rachel, still managing to keep the sheet up, wrapped her arms around Quinn’s waist from behind, resting her cheek on Quinn’s shoulder.

“Okay,” she said.

“What… are you doing?” Quinn was frozen to where she stood, unsure of what was happening.

But Rachel ignored the question and said, “I didn’t tell you, but I got a note before the pictures in my truck.”

“What was it?”

“It said I know what you did on the back of a photo of Coleman’s grave,” Quinn could feel Rachel’s mouth move against her shoulder.

“You should have told me,” Quinn said. She felt the hot thrum of anger corse through her body. Threatening her was one thing, but terrorizing Rachel was different.

“I know,” Rachel tighten her hug, “I’m sorry.”

“Rachel, look at me,” Quinn untangled herself and stood with both hands on Rachel’s shoulders, “We’ll fix this. We’ll figure this out just like we always do. But you have to tell me if anything suspicious happens, okay?”

Rachel nodded, “No more secrets,” she agreed.

Quinn gave her a soft smile and patted her cheek, “Why don’t you go get dressed. I left you some clothes on the chair if you need to borrow something today.”

Rachel smiled and Quinn went back to finishing her makeup as she ignored the fact that Rachel would be wearing a pair of her underwear for the day.

…  

“Jay! Jay! Wait up!” Ben called, jogging to catch up with Jay’s long stride. Jay had been walking to the control room for their morning meeting, but he stopped and turned to Ben.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jay met Ben’s smile with his own, he was in a hurry but not enough to miss an opportunity to chat with his favorite wifey.

“I heard there was a group date today,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck as she shifted from foot to foot, “I know I just went on that date yesterday, but I think Vee and I really had a connection and I was wondering….”

Jay made a sympathetic face, “I’d love to help you but I’m not sure I can get you on the date today.”

“Oh,” Ben looked crestfallen, “Damn, I just really wanted to win this for you.”

“Oh that’s cute,” Jay laughed, it was a disbelieving laugh but one that wasn’t unkind, “We both know that’s not why you want to win.”

“Well, Vee is hot,” Ben shrugged, “But so are you. Since I can’t go on the date today maybe I could see you later?”

Jay dropped into a chair next to Rachel, who was eating a doughnut from craft services. Glancing up at him, she pushed her plate in his direction and he took half a scone.

“So,” he said with a sly grin, “do I get to call you Oedipus now since you’re obviously sleeping with mommy?”

Rachel glared at him, mouth full.

“C’mon, don’t give me that look, you’re wearing her shirt,” Jay said, “Now Chet totally won't notice but you didn’t think I would, did you?”

Rachel swallowed the food in her mouth, “I didn’t really think about it.”

Jay snorted and rolled his eyes affectionately, “I should have figured, with the way you normally dress.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you should let mommy pick out your clothes more often,” Jay quipped as Quinn walked in.

“Who’s on the list for today’s group date?” Quinn asked, arms crossed, leaning against one of the tables.

“James, Ritchie, Alex, Zion, Jillian, Sam, Joseph, Mike, Ashley, and Kara,” Jay read from the list. He glanced between Quinn and Rachel, stretching out the last name on the list.

“Jillian is a wifey so let’s make sure she has priority time with Vanessa,” Quinn said.

“So is Mike,” said Rachel, “Plus Vanessa couldn’t stop talking about him, I think there might be a story there. You know, childhood friends and partners rekindling their relationship after the doping scandal? It would be good for Vanessa’s image if she won Mike back.”

“If you can make something come of that we’ll run with it,” Quinn replies before turning to Madison, “Make sure Kara has her claws out today. We want a flirty villainess.”

“You know Vanessa doesn’t seem to have any chemistry with Ritchie,” Jay said, “What if we swapped him for Ben?”

“Ben? Who was just on a date yesterday? No, we’re sticking with this list,” Quinn said, “Someone get it to set.”

“I can bring it to Graham!” Madison said, reaching out to take the date envelope from Quinn.

“Okay people,” Quinn said, “Let’s make some romance today!”

…

Outside, Madison ducked into a sheltered doorway, pulling the date card out of the envelope and uncapping the pen she kept in her back pocket.

With her best handwriting, she added an eleventh name to the date list. Then slipped the card back in, and resealed the envelope.

…

“Hey there’s some guy here for you?” One of the crew members said, a polo clad man with a tool box standing behind him.

“Just show him to my office,” Quinn said, then to the man with the toolbox said, “That’s the room you’ll be doing.”

“Who was that?” Chet asked as the pair walked away.

Quinn didn’t bother looking up, “Just a locksmith. I’m having the locks changed on my office.”

“What? Why?”

“I’d just be more comfortable knowing exactly who has a key.”

“I’m still getting a key, right?” Chet asked, “This isn’t because you’re mad at me is it?”

“No Chet, this may come as a shock to your ego, but sometimes things have nothing to do with you,” Quinn said with a sigh, “Now if you excuse me, I have my show to run.”

Snatching up the walkie, Quinn settled into her chair behind the monitors and said, “ACTION!”

“They say that love is a battlefield, but do our remaining contestants have what it takes to battle it out for Vanessa?” Graham asked on screen as he descended the mansion’s staircase.

“Uhg who wrote this garbage?” sneered Quinn.

“Today, ten lucky people will be joining our suitress on a date,” continued Graham, stopping to stand in front of the fifteen contestants, “And from this envelope, I have their names.”

Chloe clapped her hands together excitedly, “I hope it’s me!” She whispered to James.

“Ha! Not likely,” Quinn said, before lifting her walkie, “Sad Cam, zoom in on Chloe.”

Then, Graham read off the names, “Alex, Zion, Jillian, Ritchie, Sam, James, Ashley, Joseph, Kara, Mike, and Ben.”

“Hey that’s eleven people!” Tanner cried.

“Ben? What? No, I said no to him!” Quinn was out of her chair and on set in an instant.

“How did Ben end up on the list?” She demanded, grabbing Rachel’s arm to pull her along, “I specifically said no to him.”

Rachel held up the card from Graham’s envelope, “Someone wrote him in.”  

“Is this some sort of joke?” Maggie asked, “I thought we were all supposed to get equal chances with Vanessa!”

“Vee and I just have an instant, heartfelt connection,” Ben said with a shrug, “I can’t help that she wants to see me.”

“An instant connection? What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike said, obviously annoyed.

“Oh please, you’re just jealous because for the first time in your life you’ve had to share her,” Ben rolled his eyes at Mike.

Catherine snorted “Gentleman please, enough with the testosterone.”

“Nessa isn’t an object,” Mike snapped.

“This is ridiculous,” Quinn said to Rachel, “I’ll deal with who did this later. Right now we need to stop all hell from breaking loose.”

Rachel glanced over Quinn’s shoulder, “They’re still filming right? This is good.”

Quinn turned to see everyone fighting amongst themselves, “Well at least there’ll be some good footage.”

“I have an idea,” Rachel said, and disappeared at a half sprint.

Lifting her walkie, Quinn pressed the on button and said, “This better be good, Goldie.”

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long to find out Rachel’s plan, because soon Vanessa was rounding the corner with Rachel following a safe distance behind as to not be in the shot.

“What’s going on here?” Vanessa asked.

Rachel gave Quinn the thumbs up.

“Ben is getting to go on the date but he went on one yesterday!” Maggie whined. Quinn rolled her eyes, oh yeah, there was no way Maggie was making past that night’s elimination ceremony.

“Really?” Vanessa tilted her head and turned to Graham.

He spread his hands in innocence, “There seems to have been a mix up with our date card and it’s cause some…. concerns.”

“Camera A zoom in on Vanessa,” Quinn whispered into her walkie, watching as Vanessa exchanged a quick glance with Rachel. Rachel was something up her sleeve, and Vanessa was her mouthpiece.

“Why doesn’t everyone come on the group date,” Vanessa said, “There we’re supposed to be, What ten out of the fifteen on the date? I’d love to get to know everyone better and that way no one feels left out.”

She smiled and Quinn saw a flash of the diplomatic skater that had charmed her way into the hearts of America- until she’d blown it all to dust. Or snorted it to dust. Whatever.

Graham looked over at Quinn, who gave him the nod of approval. It wasn’t an ideal plan, but it would shake things up and give them their teaser for the network.

“What a charming idea Vanessa!” Graham said, “In an Everlasting first, everyone is going on a date!”

“And cut!” Quinn yelled into her walkie, a redundant effort since everyone was in yelling distance. Rachel approached hesitantly, with her hands up.

“Okay, so you can totally yell at me in a minute, but just let me explain,” Rachel began.

“Oh you’re going to pay for that,” Quinn replied, eyes slowly roving from Rachel’s dirty sneakers to her face, smiling when she saw Rachel’s jaw had gone slightly slack as a flush spread across her face, “But I understand why you did it. It makes Vanessa look good, and that’s her M.O.”

Rachel nodded, “Uh yeah,” she said, biting her lip and shifting from foot to foot.

Quinn held her gaze longer than necessary, she’d taken Rachel by surprise with her blatant flirting and she was going to enjoy seeing her flustered.

But then, another crew member approached, breaking the spell.

“Um, there’s an Olive Goldberg here to see you?” he said, glancing from Quinn to Rachel.

“What?!”

…

Olive Goldberg stood in the entrance to the mansion, tapping her foot impatiently. Rachel saw her before she saw Rachel and Quinn, and she went cold. She’d hoped it had been wrong, that maybe it was some other Olive Goldberg who was now inexplicably on set, but not, it was her mother.

“Why can I not simply see my daughter?” she demanded to the security guard who stood with her.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I have strict orders to not let you on set,” he replied.

“That’s ridiculous,” Olive said, “Who gave you that order, may I ask?”

“What would have been me,” said Quinn, her hand dropped to barely touch Rachel’s wrist, signalling for her to stay behind Quinn, “I actually banned you from set years ago but that hasn’t seemed to work. Maybe a restraining order is in order.”

Rachel saw Quinn glance at her out of the corner of her eye, but she was focused on her mother, focused on keeping her breathing normally, focused on keeping the panic attack that was building in her chest at bay.

“That’s rich coming from you, Quinn,” Olive sneered, “Especially since I have proof that you are abusing your power to engage in sexual misconduct with your subordinates, namely, my daughter.”

“What?” Rachel said. It felt absurdly like being caught breaking curfew after a date, but there was no way her mother knew about last night in Quinn’s apartment. There was just no way.

Beside her, Quinn had gone still, “You don’t have anything,” she said, but the bite Rachel was expecting to hear was absent.

“I do!” Olive pulled a crisp photo from her purse and thrust it in Quinn’s face.

Rachel gasped. It was a black and white shot of them both, on the couch in Quinns office the night Rachel had ripped Quinn’s shirt open and kissed her until they both couldn’t breathe, leaving those tell-tale hickey’s on Quinn’s throat.

Quinn snatched the photo from Olive’s hands.

“Don’t worry, I have copies,” said Olive, then turned to Rachel, “Rachel, honey, you need to come home. I don’t know what sort of depravity you’ve fallen into here but it’s not healthy for you. You can’t let this woman turn you into some sort of homosexual, that’s just not you.”

Rachel was still staring at the photo in Quinn’s hands, “How- Quinn- Where did she get this? How did you get this?”

“How much?” Quinn asked Olive, not looking at Rachel, “I’ll write the check right now. How much for you to give me all the copies and leave us alone?”

“I can’t put a price on the well being of my only daughter,” Olive said, hand to her chest.

“Ten thousand dollars?” Quinn said, “Fifteen?”

“Quinn how does she have this?” Rachel grabbed her arm, her voice rising.

“You!” Quinn pointed at a PA, “Bring me my purse from my office. Now!”

Rachel’s heart pounded in her ears. She felt hot and cold all at the same time, the collar of the shirt she’d borrowed from Quinn suddenly too tight. Quinn wouldn’t look at her, only continuing to stare Rachel’s mother down.

No one would explain what was happening and she felt so small and helpless, “Please,” she grabbed Quinn’s arm.

“I received the photos on my doorstep,” Olive said, finally, “There were all variations of the same, from someone looking out for you, Rachel, I suppose. But who’d want to look out for you, I have no idea.”

“It’s a good thing your father didn’t see them,” added Olive, “It would have crushed him.”

“No,” Rachel whispered.

“Rach,” Quinn said softly.

“Here,” the PA returned, nervously handing Quinn her purse before scampering off. No one paid her any mind as Quinn pulled out her checkbook and a pen.

“This is the last time I’ll ask, how much?” said Quinn, her pen poised.

“Twenty thousand is a nice round number,” Olive said, “I could help so many people with my practice with that money.”

Feeling sick, Rachel watched Quinn write the check then hold it out to Olive. But she didn’t let go.

“The photos,” she said, “All copies.”

Sighing, Olive pulled a manila envelope from her purse and handed them over before snatching the check from Quinn,  “This is it. But Rachel, I hope you contact your Human Resources department and report this predator! If you come back home, I can help you through this, deception.”

“Get out,” Quinn growled, she waved her hand towards Olive, “Security!”

But as she watched her mother leave, now twenty thousand dollars richer, Rachel felt Quinn’s hand close around her upper arm, “My office. Now.”

…

Thankfully, Rachel waited until they were behind closed doors to explode.

“What the fuck was that?” she demanded as Quinn walked behind her desk, “How did my mother have pictures of us all but fucking on your couch?”

Quinn unlocked the drawer where she’d been keeping the letters, pulling out the file of photos and threatening notes. Unceremoniously, she dropped them on the desk.

“Ever since we started filming again, I’ve been getting… these,” Quinn said, not meeting Rachel’s eyes, “And then yesterday I found a camera in my office.”

Rachel stalked forward, still upset by her mother and that her questions had yet to be answered. Leaning over the desk, she flicked open the file. Quinn couldn’t watch as Rachel went through the notes and photos. She sat down in her office chair to wait.

Finally, Rachel said, “You’ve been getting these since filming started?”

“Yes,” Quinn looked up at her.  

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to take care of it, before it got out of hand.”

“You were going to take care of it? What did you think you were going to do? Find this psycho and say hey stop threatening us? By yourself?” Rachel cried, “This isn’t even blackmail, Quinn, this is straight up death threats!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you planning on waiting until we both get murdered? This involves me too, I deserve to know!”

“I’m telling you right now!”

“Yeah, because you have to, because my mother showed up and made a scene,” Rachel ran a hand through her hair, “Fuck, Quinn, I thought we said no secrets.”

“Rachel-”

“No, you know what? I’m done talking about this. I need to go,” Rachel said, and slammed the door.

[regardstosoulandromance]

chapter eight:  i want to hold you when i’m not supposed to // in which vanessa goes on a three person date, rachel and jay have a chat, and quinn makes a mess of her office

read here on ao3 or below

“And action!” Quinn’s voice, raised and easily mistaken for yelling if you didn’t know that it was just how she was, echoed through set, through ear pieces and speakers. Rachel tapped the plastic ear piece, making sure it was in place. Even in the high energy, high intensity of shooting, Quinn’s voice in her ear was a comfort. It focused her, kept all the other rattling thoughts in her head at bay.

Vanessa was walking across the lawn with Catherine, Ben, and, surprisingly, Leo.

“Uhg this is the opposite of a pantie-dropping date,” Quinn had groaned when Vanessa had made her selection, “At least Ben will be there to make it hot.”

“May-December romances are in right now,” Rachel had tried to argue, “look at David Foster and Katherine McPhee, or Sarah Paulson and Taylor Holland. Who cares about dating your age?”

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what our viewers want to see,” Quinn said sarcastically, but there hadn’t been any bite to it, only a lingering gaze.

Now Rachel was standing in the muddy field behind the mansion, her sneakers getting soggier and soggier as she watched four horses be lead up to Vanessa and her dates. With Adam they’d borrowed a fake horse, filming him from the knees up as he pretended to ride. But for Vanessa they’d gotten real horses.

Rachel watched from the monitors as Vanessa easily flirted with Catherine, who was talking about horseback riding through the Italian countryside.

“But,” Catherine added with a seductive smile, “I’d love someone to share it with.”

Vanessa held her gaze for a long moment before reaching up to pretend fix Catherine’s completely straight collar, “That sounds enchanting.”

“Ooohh, this is good Goldie,” Quinn said through the earpiece.

“What about you? What do you like to do for fun?” Asked Catherine.

“Well, Mike was teaching me how to golf,” Vanessa said, “He’s actually a phenomenal golfer, if he didn’t skate I’d say he should go into golfing professionally.”

“Why is she talking about Mike?” Quinn demanded in Rachel’s ear, “It’s a total boner killer. A lady boner killer too, by the looks of Cindy Crawford.”

The rest of the day wasn’t much better. Vanessa would just begin to flirt with one of the contestants, then start talking about Mike again.

“Rachel! Get her on task! I want wet panties not… whatever this is.”

Rachel pulled out her earpiece as she pulled Vanessa aside. She’d just finished talking to Ben and was about to take a stroll with Leo along a very fake, very short fence that some poor PA had put up twenty minutes ago.

“Hey Vanessa, can I talk to you for a sec?” Rachel said, leading her away, “Listen, I know you and Mike have all this history but you need to stop bringing him up with your dates.”

A crease formed between Vanessa’s eyebrows, “I wasn’t- oh my gosh,” she pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Yeah, you have,” said Rachel.

“Oh shit, I didn’t even realize I was doing that!” Vanessa said, “We’ve just been together for so long, everything is… him.”

“Vanessa,” Rachel pulled her ever farther away from the crew, “Were you and Mike ever, you know, more than just skating partners? You can tell me.”

“No! No, of course not! Mike and I are just, uh, business partners.”

“Business partners?” Rachel asked, not believing her for a moment. Vanessa was flushed, but only slightly. Her voice was drifting from a conversational tone to one that Rachel mentally referred to as Vanessa’s interview voice.

She’d watched a handful of interviews, most of them leading up to the Olympics. Both Vanessa and Mike were cheerful and chatty, playing off each other easily, finishing each other’s sentences, and charming everyone they talked to. They were America’s Sweetheart Skaters.

Rachel’s even watched some of their skating videos as well. She’d gotten hooked, late one night, watching video after video of skating programs. And watching, she understood why their fans were convinced that they were sleeping together. When they skated, Vanessa and Mike were like two halves of the same soul. The were sensual, skating in a way that made Rachel feel like she was watching something forbidden.

“Uh yeah, Mike said it on accident once and it kinda stuck,” Vanessa gave an awkward laugh, Sorry I’m doing it again. But we’re strictly professional, like you and Quinn.”

Rachel snorted, “Yeah, just like Quinn and me,” she said as the image of Quinn moaning beneath her filled her mind. She pushed it away, burying it deep down where it wouldn’t distract her.

“Listen, Vanessa, when you’re on these dates, whoever you’re with is your boyfriend or girlfriend, okay?” Rachel said.

Vaness nodded, “Yeah, I get it. I’ll stop talking about Mike.”

“Excellent.”

…

“Well it’s good to see you and Quinn aren’t at each other's throats anymore,” Jay’s comment was casual enough, well meaning even, but as soon as he said it Rachel felt herself go cold.

“Oh my god,” Jay said as he turned to glance at Rachel. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into a quiet alcove.

“Oh my god it was you,” he said, “You gave Quinn the hickey that Chet’s been bitching about all day.”

Too late, Rachel recovered, “That’s ridiculous, Jay. I mean, Quinn and me?”

“Oh don’t try to lie, you looked pale as an untanned wifey when I mentioned you two being at each other’s throats and all I meant was you weren’t fighting anymore,” Jay said, crossing his arms, “So spill.”

“C’mon Jay, Quinn and I aren’t a thing,” Said Rachel, which wasn’t exactly a lie, it wasn’t as if they were dating.

Rachel tried not to think about what dating Quinn would even mean- waking up to her smile, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist at parties, getting to kiss her without worrying…

“So you’re telling me that Quinn’s vendetta against Kara isn’t because you kissed her? And Quinn just bails your ass out of everything because you’re a good producer? Or we could talk about how Quinn hates it when anyone gets too close to her but she’ll put her hands all over you without a second thought.”

Rachel didn’t reply. Jay was right, over the years Quinn grew to prioritize Rachel over more and more. She thought back to all the times Quinn had stood up for her or protected her, even the little things like telling people to stop gawking when Jeremy publicly dumped her, or letting her sleep in her bed afterwards.

She made a face, did Quinn love her? Twice she’d said it, once as a confused reply to Rachel and once in the control room, blood and passion dripping to the floor, but she never knew what that really meant. Did Quinn love her like as a friend? Or as something more?

“You don’t understand,” is what she settled on, pushing away the silly, mushy feeling she got in her chest when she thought about that possibility, “Quinn doesn’t- it’s not like that.”

“Yeah and keeping a clothes hanger in the closet doesn't make it straight,” Jay said rolling his eyes.

He turned to leave but Rachel grabbed his arm, “Jay, you won’t-“

“Tell anyone?” He sighed, “Of course not Rachel. That’s a decision for you and Quinn to make in your own time.”

…

She’d been staring at for the past several minutes, the envelope that way laying on her desk, taunting her. She already knew what was inside, but she was putting off looking as long as she could.

Early that morning, Quinn had installed a new wireless camera in her office, one above the door, looking out across the whole room. The feed ran to her computer, recording every movement for her to check later, in hopes of catching her letter writer.

But when she’d walked into her office that afternoon, the camera lay smashed on the floor. At first glance it looked as if it had fallen, but Quinn had stolen a power drill from the crew. Someone had broken it on purpose. Whoever was delivering her the letters, she surmised.

Quinn sighed. Picking up the offending envolve, she slid her knife-like letter opener along the edge, hooking it under the top flap, then dumped the contents onto her desk.

Another photo, and a note.

I don’t like being watched, the note said, hand written in a slanted scrawl that was nearly illegible, Now she’ll pay for your transgression.

Quinn’s hands shook as she turned over the photo. It was from their first day back on set, but from inside the office, at the moment when Rachel had surprised Quinn with a kiss. The black and white print was fisheyed, but would have been almost erotic if it wasn’t for the means it was obtained.

With a frustrated cry she shoved everything but her computer off her desk. Her hands curled around the stacks of files and spreadsheets sending them flying. Papers fluttered to the floor as framed photos fell with a clatter. The thrumming adrenaline of fear and anger filled her body, pumping through her veins.

Falling back into her chair, Quinn’s breathing came in ragged bursts that faded to a steady yet heavy rise and fall of her chest. There was a camera in the room. There was one recording her every movement at that moment.

Picking up the offending photo from the floor, Quinn held it up, walking around the office until she found the right angle. The camera had to be on her coffee table. She checked the coasters, then the flowers, before her eyes lit on a glass babble she didn’t remember purchasing.

Then, with all the pent up fury and frustration, she threw it to the ground, watching as it shattered with a satisfying crash. From the shards of glass Quinn picked up a tiny black object, the camera.

…

Vanessa leaned into Leo’s arms looped through hers as they walked by the pool. The sun had already set and everyone was inside, busying themselves by getting ready for the elimination ceremony.

“I’m so glad to have caught you off camera,” Leo said, patting Vanessa’s hand, “The constant surveillance would be unbearable if it wasn’t for you.”

Vanessa laughed, a lovely sound that echoed across the pool before she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it, “I’m sorry, that’s so kind of you, but that sounded like something the producers would feed you.”

Leo smiled, “I suppose it does. I am sincere though.”

Vanessa kissed his cheek.

“I believe you,” she said, “I suppose the cameras don’t feel any different to me than when I was training and competing. But you work in the financial industry right? I’m sure the surveillance is more subtle.”

“You’re right,” Leo said, “We’re always being watched, but here it’s just so much more in your face.”

“Every moment is a performance,” Vanessa said, “Whether we know it or not.”

“All the world’s a stage,” he agreed, “And al the men and women have an agenda.”

Vanessa stopped to look at him, “And what’s yours?”

“To woo a lovely young woman,” Leo replied, “And yours?”

Vanessa smiled, looking past him into the bushes where the cameraman was hiding, “To find love, of course.”

And then she kissed him.

…

Leaning back in her chair, Quinn rubbed her temples. Her office was still a mess, but the elimination ceremony was over, five idiots had gone home, and she decided she could deal with it in the morning.

Throwing back the end of her whiskey, Quinn shut her eyes, wishing to go back to the moment when she’d fallen asleep in Rachel’s bed. She wanted to reach across the pillow-length space and cup Rachel’s face in her hands, she wanted to breath in her warmth and watch her eyelids flutter shut. She wanted to know that they were safe, that she could always keep Rachel safe from the cruel world they’d help design.

Then, just as if the universe had read her thoughts, the door knob quietly turned and as the door opened so did Quinn’s eyes.

Rachel shut the door behind her, but stayed still in the shadow of the door. But even from the distance, Quinn could see the tear tracks on her face and her wild, fearful eyes. Quinn was out of her chair and across the room in a heartbeat, hesitating as soon as she reached Rachel, afraid to touch her and scare her off. Every horrible thought filled Quinn’s mind. Something had happened- someone had done something.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn said, she lifted a hand to slowly settle on Rachel’s arm

“I’m sorry,” Rachel breathed, not looking Quinn in the eyes.

“Rachel, you’re scaring me. What happened?” Quinn reached up with her other hand, cupping Rachel’s face. Rachel leaned into the touch, and finally looked up at her.

Rachel held her gaze for a moment before jerking forward to wrap her arms around Quinn, hiding her face in the crook of Quinn’s neck, and began to cry.

[regardstosoulandromance]

weaker girl

rating: explicit pairing: rachel/quinn (kingsgold) summary: when rachel pounds on quinn’s door, she doesn’t answer, at least not at first. (set during s4e8, when rachel goes to quinn’s house and argues with her. loosely inspired by a convo i had with effyeffa)

read here on ao3 or below

“Quinn! Quinn King! Open the door! I’m not done talking to you!” Rachel yelled, banging on the door with both fists. She screamed, yelling for Quinn, pleading, threatening, begging until she was hoarse.

What do you want me on my hands and knees?

Well that would be a good start.

“You want me on my knees Quinn?” Rachel yelled. She knelt on the porch, on the unwelcoming welcome mat that bit into her knees. Folding her arms behind her back, she stared up at the glass door, straining to see inside. But there wasn’t any movement, just the still, and the ache in her bones.

She stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, on her knees, submitting. But just when she was about to give up, there was movement from inside. Quinn looked out at her from inside. Rachel stared up at her, silently begging for her to open the door, to give her another chance that she didn’t deserve.

After a moment, Quinn opened the door, “That’s a good look for you,” she said, without a hint of amusement.

“Alight, you can come in, but no more shouting,” Quinn said, and held the door open wider. But when Rachel began to get up, she shook her head, “did I say you could get up?”

Rachel flushed, realizing what Quinn wanted. She complied, crawling into the house after her. On her hands and knees, she followed Quinn through room after room until she realized she was being lead to the bedroom. Once there, Quinn sat at the end of the bed and pointed to the carpet at her feet.

“Talk,” Quinn commanded as Rachel took her place on her knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to the show and to you. I want to make it right but I don’t know how,” her voice cracked, “Please Quinn, I need you.”

“And what’s to stop this from happening again?”

“The finale is live, tell them it was me. I’ll probably get sued and maybe even go to jail, but you’ll be done with me,” Rachel wiped her eyes, “And you know what? Maybe you should have let me go to jail in the first place. Maybe you should have never saved me.”

Quinn looked away.

Rachel could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Quinn had always made her feel vulnerable, but this was something totally new. Quinn bounced her foot only inches away from Rachel’s face, and Rachel wondered if she should lean forward to kiss the scuffed red bottom sole.

After a long moment, Quinn stood. Reaching forward, she caught Rachel’s jacket by the lapels. She jerked her up, roughly pulling Rachel to stand. Then, with a single movement, Quinn pushed the jacket from Rachel’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

Rachel’s breath came heavily as Quinn gripped the edge of her sweatshirt, pulling it off, over her head, and tossing it aside. She was staring wild eyed at Quinn, but was too shocked to question her. Instead, she complied when Quinn ordered her to remove her shoes.

She couldn’t think, every fiber in her being screamed for Quinn. Rachel was afraid to move and break whatever spell held them both captive.

Quinn’s fingertips dig into Rachel’s waist as she pulled Rachel against her. Rachel could feel Quinn’s warm breath on her face and her own chest heaved, only her bra and Quinn’s clothes separating their skin.

Quinn unbuttoned Rachel’s jeans, slipping her hand inside to cup her sex. Rachel’s hands flew to Quinn’s shoulders to steady herself.

“It’s so easy to get into your pants, Goldberg,” Quinn sneered, “And everyone knows it.”

“Thanks to you,” Rachel said, “Everyone on set saw that. I was humiliated.”  

“Well, you needed to be taken down a notch. You were getting too full of yourself,” Said Quinn, “God, you’re so wet for me.”

Rachel licked her lips, eyes transfixed on Quinn’s mouth. Nothing she’d ever done with any man had turned her on more than this. She wanted to kiss Quinn, bury her nose in Quinn’s neck and breath her in, rip off the layer of clothes that separated them.

Quinn pulled her hand out of Rachel’s jeans and licked her fingers, “You’re such a fuck up. But you’re beautiful so I guess you think you can keep getting away with it.”

She pulled down Rachel’s jeans and pushed her back onto the bed so she could pull them completely off. Then she grabbed one of Rachel’s ankles, removing the sock, and repeated the motion with the other foot.

Rachel felt a flush spread from her face down across her chest as Quinn’s eyes traced down her body, now only clad in a bra and underwear. It was like every dark fantasy she’d ever had about her boss where she went too far and got punished for it.

“Hm,” Quinn crossed her arms, “I was expecting a little more from you. Instead you’re just laying back and taking it.”

“I thought this is what you want,” Rachel said, “Me on my knees, me on my back, doing whatever you want.”

She was up on her elbows, staring Quinn down. Unwanted tears pricked at her eyes and Rachel could feel her lip tremble. Her face still felt hot, but her lack of clothes, and the chill of the room, left goose bumps on her skin.

“The Rachel I left wouldn’t just do whatever I wanted,” Quinn said, “She’d be clamoring to get on top. I don’t know who you are.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left then!” Rachel cried, “You ran off with Chet and you abandoned me! I didn’t know what to do! And now you’re leaving me all over again!”

Quinn pulled on one of Rachel’s ankles so she fell back onto her back. With sure movements, she pushed Rachel’s legs open and crawled between them, bracing herself so she was over Rachel.

Rachel’s heart pounded so wildly she thought Quinn had to hear it.

With one hand, Quinn ran her finger along the curve of Rachel’s throat, then across her collarbone. Her face was nearly unreadable, an expression Rachel was used to seeing bluff her way through meetings with the network. Now, however, Quinn’s masked gaze was fixed solely on her.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Quinn said.

“No,” Rachel whisper, “Don’t stop, please.”

Ducking her head, Quinn kissed the space where neck met shoulder, “you’re trembling.”

She kissed her way across Rachel’s chest, down, between her breasts. A hand reached beneath, unhooking Rachel’s bra and tossing it aside. Quinn’s mouth moved lower and lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses from neck to navel.

All the fight she’d had in her when she’d confronted Quinn outside was gone, buried deep down and replaced with content desire, burning through the smudges of lipstick that stained her body. Rachel ran her hands through Quinn’s hair, fingernails scraping her scalp. Quinn kissed her just above the elastic of her underwear, hands pressing her hips down into the bed.

Quinn moved away long enough to strip Rachel of her underwear. Rachel reached up, catching the edge of Quinn’s shirt that had become untucked and tried to pull it up and off. But Quinn batter her hands away, sitting back to take off her own shirt and pants.

Rachel’s breath caught in her throat at the vast expanse of pale skin. Quinn’s yacht tan had faded, returning her to that familiar ice queen look that was so striking with her black hair. Rachel sat up, on her elbow, then extended her other arm to run a finger across Quinn’s rib cage.

Gently pushing her back onto the bed, Quinn leaned down and kissed the curve of Rachel’s hip bone, following it with a flash of teeth on tender skin. An involuntary moan slipped from Rachel’s lips, and she felt Quinn smile against her hip.

“Mmmm, you like that don’t you princess?”

There was the bite of sarcasm in her tone, but Rachel knew, unlike a few moments before, Quinn meant no malice. Instead, the pet name felt possessive against Rachel’s skin.

There wasn’t any warning to Quinn’s mouth coming down against Rachel’s hot core. Her tongue made quick work, just as fierce and sharp when it came to sex as it did with her words, and soon Rachel was shaking, begging Quinn for release.

Quinn’s tongue circled Rachel’s clit before nipping her with her teeth. Rachel cried out Quinn’s name, body arching as an orgasm shook her. Her limbs tingled and stars filled her vision until the rush subsided.

When she opened her eyes, Quinn was lying beside her. Rachel moved closer, nuzzling Quinn’s neck as she slid a hand into Quinn’s underwear. She rolled them over, so she was on top as she pulled Quinn’s lace underwear down enough to slide three fingers into her.

Quinn inhaled sharply, eyes locking with Rachel’s as Rachel found a steady pace to thrust. Rachel still felt shaky herself, post orgasm but soon Quinn’s inner walls were fluttering around her fingers. It helped of course, that she’d already been wet, a fact that made Rachel’s chest swell with pride. Her thumb flicked Quinn’s clit, drawing delicious sounds from Quinn’s mouth.

“Rachel- Rachel, I’m going to- I’m so close, I-“ Quinn stammered, interrupting herself with a moan as she hit her own orgasm.

Sucking her fingers clean, Rachel laid down again, resting her head on Quinn’s chest.

“I need you,” Rachel murmured, kissing Quinn’s jawline.

“I know,” Quinn said, “I’m going to make this right, okay?”

“Thank you,” Rachel setting against her, eyes slipping closed, “I love you.”

[regardstosoulandromance]

The Funny Thing About Cherry Pie

rating: general pairing: rachel/quinn (kingsgold) summary: listen, we were all thinking it. a slightly alternate take on the last scene of season 4 that isn’t at all contradicted by canon, so it’s the canon I’m believing. warning: season 4 spoilers, murder

read here on ao3, or below

“Here… I baked it. I mean, I wouldn’t eat it, but I made it,” Rachel held a pie up, like an offering. It was cherry, and top crust was unevenly browned because Rachel hadn’t realized that the back of her oven was hotter than the front. But she’d made the pie after two quick google searchers, one done on a VPN, of course.

“Thank you,” Chet said, taking it from her with a smile.

“And I’m sorry,” she added. She was, Chet wasn’t all bad, or at least, she’d known worse men and there was that other thing...

“I love her,” That. Chet loved Quinn, which Rachel understood better than anyone. Quinn was a force of nature, someone who’s very presence evoked either fear or love and sometimes both.

“Me too,” she said, with a sad smile and a nod.

He let her in, saying something about a midnight snack, despite the fact it was far from midnight, as he pointed her in the direction of the bedroom. Rachel stood by the bedroom door, watching in the shadows as he served himself a slice of pie, before letting herself in.

Quinn smiled as Rachel approached the foot of the bed, “I like your hair.”

It felt so natural to take off her shoes and crawl into bed beside Quinn. She didn’t hesitate to lay down in Quinn’s arms and rest her head on Quinn’s chest.

Rachel thought back to that afternoon on the loungers, so looking across at Quinn and telling her for the first time that she loved her. It seemed like a lifetime ago, and now they were where they belonged, together at last.

Quinn began to stroke Rachel’s hair, and Rachel settling into her warmth, closing her eyes as she inhaled Quinn’s scent.

“Did you do it?” Quinn asked, the question vibrating under Rachel’s ear.

“Yeah,” Rachel softly replied.

The door to the bedroom was closed, locked, but it didn’t completely muffle the sound from the kitchen. Quinn reaches across, holding Rachel tightly as they listened to the muted sound of choking, to the calls for Quinn and Rachel. The poison Rachel had baked into the pie worked quickly.

“That’s my girl,” Quinn said, “it’s almost done. We’re almost done.”

Then it happened. There was a heavy thump, and silence. They lay still, the silence settling over them like a thick blanket. It felt like relief. And after everything that had happened during that season of Everlasting, what was one more tragedy?

“I don’t think we’re coming back from this,” said Rachel, “No one's going to know it was is but…”

“From now on, we’ll do better, we’ll be better,” Quinn said.

“I love you,” Rachel said, lifting her head to look at Quinn, she didn’t know when she started crying but a tear rolled down her cheek, “and I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to try to hurt you.”

Quinn reached up to cup Rachel’s cheek, wiping away the tear with her thumb, “We’ve both done things to each other that we regret.”

She pulled Rachel in for a kiss, slow and gentle. Rachel parted her lips, deepening it as she let herself get lost in Quinn’s touch, in Quinn’s taste, until the world has dissolved into their kiss.

They broke apart, and Rachel laid her head back down on Quinn’s chest. There was a dead body in the kitchen, but they could deal with that later. For now, it was just the two of them, and that was all they knew they’d ever need.

Quinn began to play with Rachel’s hair again, “I’m never going to abandon you again.”