We-Fancy-Femslash

"Quinn, this is not what I meant by decking the halls," Rachel squirmed as Quinn finished tying her hands with Christmas lights to each bed post. "Rachel?" Quinn smirked huskily. "Yes, Quinn," Rachel gulped nervously. "Shut it, before I have to put a Christmas ornament in your mouth," Quinn giggled as she brushed her Santa hat out of her face. Sexy Mrs. Claus just wanted to deck Rachel’s halls the moment she found her on her naughty list.

Rachel just had to miss school the day of a big test. So here she was having to take her make up exam. She lets out a sigh of relief as she passes her just finished test to the front and ignores the teacher as she dismisses the class.    "Hey, Rach! Do you take the bus home or drive?" came the blonde sitting to the left of her.    Rachel looked at her with a look of shock, they've been in at least one class together since freshman year and this is the first time Quinn Fabray has talked to her.    "I, uh, I'm just walking home today, Quinn," Rachel blushed nervously.    "Please, call me, Q. You don't mind if I walk home with you today,

It’s been so long since Quinn last set foot in New York. She’s been keeping herself from Rachel for far too long. Going on to their second years of college now, Quinn can’t get rid of these feelings no matter how hard she tries. For years, it has always ever been Rachel. The ever blind Rachel. Who’s only true love was Broadway and Finn. And after Finn…after, she realized how precious life really is. She’s not going to go another day without Rachel knowing how she feels. She rang ahead to Santana and Kurt to make sure they would give her the space and time to do what she needed to do. So here she is at Rac

It was impossibly late and yet Rachel could still hear Santana and Kurt and who knows who else celebrating in the living room over their first sold out performance. She really had wanted to celebrate with them, but there was something off, she needed to be alone. She needed sleep and yet, sleep would not, could not come for her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore. Where crying came so easily to her had now become the impossible. She hadn’t cried since she had come back from McKinley for the funeral. The constant emptiness, the dulling sorrow, the moving on of life. The music to her ears had disappeared. Who w