Puck/Rachel - Drabble Meme Part I
A bunch of drabbles from the Puck/Rachel meme.
Title: Tatoo Me With You
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 712
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: Rachel has #20 temporary tattooed on her person, Puck is frustrated when he learns that it isn't permanent.
“You have a tramp stamp… you have a FUCKING tramp stamp.”
Rachel tugged violently on Puck’s sleeve, looking worriedly around the empty school hallway.
“Stop it,” she whispered still looking around to make sure no one was around to hear. “Why are you even here this early?” Of course he had to catch her the one time her shirt rode up while reaching the top shelf of her locker. Damn him and his stupid 20/20 vision. The numbers weren’t even that big.
“Do I need to say it again? You have a--” She slapped her hand over his mouth.
“You need to stop repeating that inane and derogatory term. I am not now, nor have I ever been a tramp.” He licked her hand and she quickly let it fall away, her face scrunching in disgust.
He smirked, “how ‘bout bull’s-eye? Ass antlers?” That earned him an elbow to the ribs, which fucking hurt.
“Noah this is not the time to list all the demeaning terms you’ve learned from the Internet. Whatever you thought you saw you were wrong, so if you’ll excuse me.”
He took a stop closer, boxing her in against the row of lockers. He totally knew why she was looking all flighty and nervous, he knew those fucking numbers. He had them tattooed on his shoulder a year earlier; he wore them every damn day.
“Turn around.” When she just stared at him like a deer in the headlights he just smirked and leaned in closer. “Hard or easy way Rach, up to you.”
She could feel him nuzzling against her cheek, his hands sliding to sit low on her back.
“Fine.”
Rachel turned, quickly flipping the bottom edge of her shirt up; highly conscious of just how little room she had between the lockers and his chest. His fingers ghosted along the small of her back, just sort of whisper light touches. It was still enough to make her bite her lip. Rachel swore she heard him groan as his calloused fingers circled her skin. She turned her head slightly, seeing his eyes trained on the small 20. He braced one of his hands against the locker by her head, finally meeting her eyes as his thumb stroked the numbers.
“S’fucking hot, Berry.” He couldn’t really concentrate with her ass so close to his junk and his brand on her skin. If he hadn’t wanted to fuck her before (he did), he totally did now, against the bank of lockers, preferably where everyone could see. Not in a perverted exhibitionist way, but in a “she’s mine, touch her and I’ll cut your limbs off one by one, way.
Puck leaned in nuzzling her cheek with his nose. Rachel turned her head and caught the edge of his mouth with her own. The kiss made her melt back into him. She could feel his arms come around her waist from behind. She momentarily forgot they were in the open and in a highly suggestive position. Her shirt was bunched up in his fist, while he basically blanketed her back, trying to push closer. When his tongue slid against her bottom lip she pulled away, letting her forehead rest on the locker in front of her.
“Skip.” She shook her head, gasping a little as his thumb slipped to the edge of her panties. “I can’t.”
He pushed away from her, “fine but later? You can’t leave me hanging after stamping my fucking number above your ass.” She shook her head at how crude he could be.
“Maybe.” She packed her bag fully aware of him watching her the entire time. She may have grabbed a binder she didn’t need from the top shelf, just because. That earned her a “baby,” which sounded distinctly like a (very gruff) warning. She tried to hide her shiver.
Rachel kissed him quickly, jumping back before his arms could come around her. She was half way down the hall before she turned back, seeing him still standing there, staring.
“Its not permanent, Noah.” He almost sounded like he let out a small whine but she just smiled, “yet. You always have to audition for a starring role.” She gave him a little grin and sauntered off.
Fuck he loves that girl.
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Prompt: Cow Tipping
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: G
Word Count: 333
Spoilers: None.
“Just so you know this is ridiculous.” Rachel yells. She’s sitting on an old log fence, bundled up in Puck’s letterman jacket. All the girls are passing a bottle of home made margaritas back and forth, trying not to freeze to death and what the boys doing? Sneaking up on defenseless cows.
Puck makes his way back to her, resting his hands on her legs, “Baby this is going to be epic!” She tries really hard not to smile at how excited he looks. “I don’t know how taunting bovine is fun, Noah and I don’t approve of it, but go have fun.” He kisses her quickly on the lips. “You’re awesome babe.”
Once he’s raced back over to Finn, Mike and Matt, Quinn hands her the bottle, resting her head on her shoulder.
“He’s an idiot,” Quinn says, laughing quietly. The blonde’s’ staring at her boyfriend break dancing in between cows. Rachel smiles, passing the bottle over to Santana. “He’s my idiot.”
Its one in the morning and they’re way passed the city limits and its March which means the chill in the air hasn’t disappeared, and her boyfriend is tipping cows. And she loves him so much it kind of hurts.
The boys get bored pretty quickly, because surprisingly once you’ve tipped one cow, you’ve tipped them all (at least that’s what it feels like). And all the booze is gone.
They lie out and watch the stars, since none of them are sober enough to drive. He’s got her pressed to his chest and she can feel his hand running through her hair. Some of the club is already asleep but she doesn’t want to shut her eyes yet.
“Was cow tipping everything you thought it would be?” She asks quietly, giggling when he tickles her side. She looks up at him. His eyes are half closed and he’s got this lazy smirk on his face, “Nah, but New York doesn’t have cows, had to get it out of my system.”
She lets her fingers ghost along his cheek and over his lips and he bites her thumb playfully. She nestles back into his arms, “Next time maybe aim to tip something smaller and closer to home.” He laughs and kisses her temple. “’Kay.”
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Prompt: Puck and Rachel get sick. Together. And are miserable. Together.
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 648
Spoilers: None.
Rachel never, ever got sick. That is until she allowed Puck and his germs near her person.
She looks and feels like hell. Her hair is a tangled mess, she’s wearing his huge McKinley football hoodie and her cheeks are bright red because of the fever. So the last thing she wants to hear is the doorbell. The last person she wants to see is Noah.
“I hate you.” Her nose is all stuffed up and she feels like her throat is being sand blasted and he has the nerve to show up on her door step, in his pajamas, with his comforter wrapped around his shoulders. He looks just as miserable as she feels, so she lets him in, even if she would love nothing more than to hit him with her hardcover copy of the Broadway anthology.
He’s not even fully in the hallway before she’s sobbing out, “I want to die.” She fists the front of his shirt in her hands, letting her head fall against his chest. It does feel sort of nice to have him wrap her up in his arms, kind of. Her being sick is still all his fault, though.
“I feel like shit too, you know,” he manages to croak out. “Its your fault we’re sick. If you would have taken the echnicea and kept your tongue to yourself-” He pushes her away from him and she doesn’t miss the eye roll. “Yeah, well no one forced you to get all up on the-“ The hacking cough definitely stops that from being sexy.
Rachel crumples back onto the couch, taking another swig of cough syrup and passing it to Puck. “I hope you know I am never allowing you to touch me again,” her voice is starting to crack and he’s hoping it disappears altogether. Soon.
Before getting sick he’d managed to, like stop, having Berry induced homicidal feelings, because he, you know, loves her. But it feels like one of those monkeys’ with the cymbals is living in his head and his mom and sister are out of town, which means no homemade soup. So no one can blame him for wanting his girlfriend to shut up and cuddle (he’s not gonna say it, she should just know, for fuck sakes). But he loves her, really he does. He didn’t want to be miserable without her, so he came here, knowing the threat of Barbara Streisand movies was like fucking high. That’s love.
“Noah could you please make me some soup?”
“No.” She can’t see anything but his head poking out of his navy blue comforter. She can’t help thinking he looks kind of cute pouting. “I came here so you would make me some fucking soup.” He sniffles (in a manly way), hoping to sound as pathetic as possible.
Rachel lets out a huff, staring longingly over the back of the couch. The kitchen isn’t that far, she could definitely make it. Except every bone, muscle and nerve in her body is aching. “If you loved me you would be valiant enough to get up and make soup.”
He blinks fixing his eyes on her, his eyebrow twitching upward. “No.”
“Fine then just end my life because without Glee and without-“ the last half of her words come out in this high-pitched squeak before dying off altogether. He can see her freaking; trying to get words out and he rolls his eyes.
“Calm down, Rach and get some fucking sleep.” He lays down and pulls her against his chest (FINALLY), kissing the top of her head. He knows that she’s already half asleep because her thumb is tracing his knuckles. It’s this weird thing she does right before she drifts off. And being here on this stupid cramped couch, listening to her snoring, is way fucking better than being alone and miserable at home, watching ESPN classic.
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Title: Fairest Of Them All
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 954
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: (407): i went to disney world today with my friends, met snow white, then saw her later at a bar. she is naked next to me in her bed, passwed out. when you wish upon a star...
It’s ridiculously hot out, like one hundred percent humidity in the shade type hot. The pins in her hair keep poking her scalp, her heels are two sizes too big and she officially hates her life. This is not the happiest place on earth; it’s obviously the seventh circle of hell. And if one more kid grabs her hand with their sticky ice cream covered ones, she’s going to scream. And possibly go on one of those rampages Noah gets all excited about on the News. All she wants is a drink and preferably to just to pass out from the heat so she can go home early.
Its not like she planned to be that girl in the costume at a theme park, it just sort of happened. Rachel hasn’t been back to Lima since she graduated College and came out to California, fully prepared to get an agent and be starring opposite Patti Lupone in the big screen version of Gypsy. That was two years and three characters ago.
Cinderella meant a bad wig and she was not a good-looking blonde, plus all those Quinn issues came rearing up. Then there was Jasmine but that got old really quick, when certain tourists shared there narrow minded views with her. So now it was Snow White, who all the kids loved despite the poor image it gave of women as only living to cook and clean up after men. Her supervisor didn’t really care for that rant, so it was this or the Pluto costume. She was never really a dog person.
Who knew going out to California wouldn’t mean instant movie deals and an Oscar nomination by 24? Instead she lives in a small motel rented by the month and lives off canned artichokes and the occasional (non poisonous) apple. All while pretending 4 out of the seven dwarves aren’t complete creeps who stare at her ass all day and she knows Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum sold Noah weed last month. Who is she kidding though? This is the best a young ingénue with a performing arts degree can get, which pays slightly more than nothing. At least it’s ‘their’ crappy apartment and ‘their’ canned artichokes.
She doesn’t even bother changing before heading for the bar around the corner from her ‘leaves much to be desired’ motel. And of course he’s already there, looking far too proud of himself.
“’Sup Snow?”
“Not now, Noah. I think my will to live has been permanently crushed.” He rolls his eyes like usual and she just knows he is going to call her a drama Queen. She can forgive this since he has a Cosmo waiting (which he usually refuses to order) and a shot of Tequila. She rests her legs on his lap and downs the shot taking a good swig of her Cosmo not long after.
“You know what this means right?” Puck looks way to gleeful for this to be any good and she arches her brow. “I’m sure I couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
“I get to fuck Snow White tonight, totally cool that I’m working my way through the princesses. Can you be Pocahontas next? I got a thing for loincloths.” She hits his arm as hard as she can, which right know is basically a tap. He just steals a kiss and keeps laughing at her mock outrage.
“You are abhorrent but at least you have goals.” Not abhorrent enough for her to stop his fingers from sweeping up and down her calves, but she is not happy about it, no siree, she isn't enjoying it at all.
“This Disney fetish is slightly disturbing, I’m afraid to check the Internet history.”
Puck smirks, “real live thing right here, babe. Plus that shits creepy.”
“I’m glad you’re a one princess man.” His eyes soften just a little and his palm comes to rest just bellow her knee, “You know it.” He loves being able to make her smile but being a pussy for a few seconds, its a fair trade.
“Take me home Prince Charming?” He snorts a little as he pulls her up, settling his arm around her waist. “Sure as long as we can get right to the ravaging part.”
When he leans down and whispers, “you’re the fairest of them all, Rach,” in her ear, she feels 16 and like she’s falling head over heels for him all over again. She can’t really help it if she kisses him slightly harder and longer than she usually would in public. She still can’t figure out how he manages to turn her insides to mush after all this time.
Rachel squeals when he tosses her over his shoulder and makes his way down the street to their place. Rachel can’t even imagine how ridiculous they look, and she really doesn’t care.
She wakes up to Noah snoring loudly beside her, his phone beeping between them. It’s still dark out, so she grabs it and goes into the bathroom before flipping it open.
“Dude stop sending me texts about Rach after you’ve… you know. Quinn doesn’t like it… and dude its creepy, our daughter likes those movies.”- Finn
Rachel clicks the sent text and she really shouldn’t be surprised to see “banged Snow White tonight, she’s passed out next to me, jealous Hudson? When you wish upon a star...”
When she gets back in bed he’s half awake and reaching for her. “You are so lucky I love you, Puckerman,” She whispers letting him fold her in his arms. His voice is scratchy in her ear as he says; “Getting you off six times doesn’t hurt either.”
And that ladies and gentlemen is the man she chose to marry.
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Title: Honesty and Stuff
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 787
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: They don't keep any secrets from each other. People are starting to find that really annoying.
When they first got together everyone gave it a week. Rachel told him about the little bet between the gleeks and he wasn’t fucking impressed.
He also didn’t like the little smirk Santana gave him when she said (with Rachel right fucking there), “Can’t wait to see how long it takes you to screw this one up. Little tip man hands, he won’t look you in the eyes when he lies.”
Puck’s’ never been as proud of his girl as when she got right up in Santana’s face and said, “no need to be so bitter that he refused to sleep with you at Troy Mason’s party last Friday.” Santana had no fucking comeback for that one.
What Santana doesn’t know? He doesn’t lie to Rachel. Chick really is kind of psychic, which freaks him out a little. And he likes having her around, he’s not gonna tempt fate and fuck it all up.
He knows Rachel isn’t gonna hang around and be treated like shit and he never, ever wants to make her cry like Finn did. So he doesn’t hide stuff and neither does she, because she gets the number Quinn did on his head (and heart).
And he actually likes talking to her. She gets him, okay? Puck really doesn’t care if Matt glares at him for like a week, because Rachel cornered him in the hall and lectured for like ten minutes on the “appropriate ways to address females in a text message”. Yeah he lets Rachel read his texts. Its not like she asks, its just that he needs both hands to play Mario Kart, and she can just read them out. Girl types a hell of a lot faster than him, so its win-win. Its pretty funny listening to her trying to figure out text speak.
Plus there’s the odd time a Cheerio sexts him (never more than once after Rach “handles it”), and he legit has to pause his game ‘cause she gets all possessive and needs to be straddling him and making out like right away. Sometimes she even goes down on him, so anyone who says honesty doesn’t pay? Fuckin’ liars, who’ve never experienced a girl with no gag reflex.
So what if the rest of the club doesn’t appreciate their no secrets rule. They should just know better than to tell him shit, since he just passes it right on to Rachel. Literally. The last note he got in class from Mike he handed to Rachel to read and respond to, without even looking at it. She’s better with words and stuff and it was about Britt (again) and he’s really bored with that shit. And Rachel talks a lot so of course she tells him everything, otherwise it would all just be musicals and Tony’s’, and shit, that would be awful.
So he’s not all that surprised when shit hits the fan.
He’s giving her a piggyback into the choir room (she wore heels for him it was the least he could do), when they’re greeted by the entire Glee club gathered in a line. They all have their arms crossed, like they’re getting ready for a fight or something. He can hear Rachel let out a surprised squeak.
“What up losers?”
Artie rolls to the front of the group, wearing that serious, ‘I’m about to lay some knowledge on your ass’ look. “We are doing this because we care about you and don’t want to be responsible for your untimely murder at the hand of many sharp objects.”
Rachel stepped forward hands on hips. “Is this an intervention? What could you possibly take issue with in relation to us?”
She probably shouldn’t have asked that, since suddenly everyone is talking at once. There’s hand waving and yelling and Santana actually fucking growls.
“You told him I slept with Mike!” Tina.
“You told Rach about that time at camp with Billy Higgins.” Finn.
“Why are guys talking about me and Santana hooking up? Me and Santana don’t even talk about it.” Quinn.
“Me having mono was a fucking secret, Puck!” Santana.
“Rachel gave me pamphlets Puck! That shits embarrassing.” Mike.
“Its just not normal
They catch a bit of the flurry of complaints but Puck kind of tunes them out, Rachel can just fill him in later/ When it gets quiet again, Rachel turns to him, “I don’t think they appreciate that you tell me things and vice versa.”
Puck shrugs, resting his hands on her hips. “You give a fuck?” She kisses the side of his mouth. “Not particularly.” He has to kiss her than, because she basically just told the gleeks to fuck off, minus the actually ‘fuck’.
“Hello! We are still standing here!”
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Prompt: "What if I was pregnant?"
"I am not prepared to answer that question. I'm focusing on what kind of muffin I'm going to get."
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 687
Spoilers: None.
So he’s standing in line at Starbucks and Rachel keeps fucking fidgeting. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, toying with the bottom of her sweater and biting her lip. Puck looks at her kind of willing her to stop moving.
“You need to piss or something?”
Her eyes go all round. “Noah don’t be so disgusting, we’re in public!” She smiles apologetically at this old woman who turns to look at them. Like he gives a fuck, she’s been acting weird for like three days.
“Well than stand fucking still, you’re worse than Luce.” He goes back to looking at the coffee options, trying not to get a headache at the prices. He hates this stupid place, with their stupid half decaf, soy crap, and their non-foam foams, on their non-coffee coffees.
“Noah?” Rachel tugs on his shirtsleeve and he looks down to see her biting her lip and refusing to actually look at him.
“What?”
She whacks his shoulder. “What the fuck, B?”
“Stop being so grumpy.”
“Than stop taking me here and making me wait for fucking ever, just to order a black coffee that will cost me more than a handjob on 63rd.”
Yeah that old lady totally blows a gasket over that one, and like he’s going to be ashamed, he just smiles and twirls his finger, telling her to turn back around. Rachel is basically the color of a tomato and she looks like she might kill him in his sleep, even he wasn’t so pretty or something.
“I can’t believe I’m bringing a-“ Rachel takes a deep breath and tries not to throttle him, its all part of her therapists count back from 10 plan.
She takes Puck’s hand in hers, trying to get his attention but he’s too busy staring at muffins, muffins.
“What if I was pregnant?” Rachel says, watching his expression closely. Puck won’t even look at her; although she sees him sort of gulp. The hand in hers is starting to grip a little too tight, for her liking.
“Noah?”
"I am not prepared to answer that question. I'm focusing on what kind of muffin I'm going to get."
Rachel sighs. “I’m pregnant and all he can think about is muffins.” She lets his hand go and puts a little distance between them, trying hard not to cry. What did she expect from the man whose idea of showing emotion was buying her break pads for Valentines Day. Baby, not wanting you to crash into a poll, that’s love.
She can feel him looking at her, even if she refuses to turn back to him.
“Are you really?”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “No I made it up to interrupt your muffin selection. I know how easily distracted you are, and I’ve been eying the last blueberry one.” Puck actually looks like he believes that, so she hits him again. “Of course I’m pregnant, you idiot.”
She squeals when he lifts her off the ground in one of those bear hugs he loves so much.
“I’m gonna be a dad?” She nods, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He puts her down and kisses her and she knows he’s happy, because he doesn’t get that goofy grin unless she’s naked, or he beat a new level in Mario Kart. He rubs his nose against hers and she laughs.
“So you’re happy?” He rests his forehead against her, his thumbs brushing against her stomach. “Yeah, B.”
Then he’s dragging her out towards the door. “But Noah my-“
“Fuck this place and its six dollar crap coffee. We’ve got a kid coming and that shits expensive. Diapers and tuition, ain’t gonna pay for themselves babe.”
She grabs her hand back and stops, completely throwing him off, until he turns back to her. Rachel has this smile on her face and she crooks her finger at him.
“What?”
“You’re a moron.” She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up to kiss him quickly. “But I love you.”
“Love you too, babe.”
“Good now go get your pregnant girlfriend a muffin.”
Title: Tatoo Me With You
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 712
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: Rachel has #20 temporary tattooed on her person, Puck is frustrated when he learns that it isn't permanent.
“You have a tramp stamp… you have a FUCKING tramp stamp.”
Rachel tugged violently on Puck’s sleeve, looking worriedly around the empty school hallway.
“Stop it,” she whispered still looking around to make sure no one was around to hear. “Why are you even here this early?” Of course he had to catch her the one time her shirt rode up while reaching the top shelf of her locker. Damn him and his stupid 20/20 vision. The numbers weren’t even that big.
“Do I need to say it again? You have a--” She slapped her hand over his mouth.
“You need to stop repeating that inane and derogatory term. I am not now, nor have I ever been a tramp.” He licked her hand and she quickly let it fall away, her face scrunching in disgust.
He smirked, “how ‘bout bull’s-eye? Ass antlers?” That earned him an elbow to the ribs, which fucking hurt.
“Noah this is not the time to list all the demeaning terms you’ve learned from the Internet. Whatever you thought you saw you were wrong, so if you’ll excuse me.”
He took a stop closer, boxing her in against the row of lockers. He totally knew why she was looking all flighty and nervous, he knew those fucking numbers. He had them tattooed on his shoulder a year earlier; he wore them every damn day.
“Turn around.” When she just stared at him like a deer in the headlights he just smirked and leaned in closer. “Hard or easy way Rach, up to you.”
She could feel him nuzzling against her cheek, his hands sliding to sit low on her back.
“Fine.”
Rachel turned, quickly flipping the bottom edge of her shirt up; highly conscious of just how little room she had between the lockers and his chest. His fingers ghosted along the small of her back, just sort of whisper light touches. It was still enough to make her bite her lip. Rachel swore she heard him groan as his calloused fingers circled her skin. She turned her head slightly, seeing his eyes trained on the small 20. He braced one of his hands against the locker by her head, finally meeting her eyes as his thumb stroked the numbers.
“S’fucking hot, Berry.” He couldn’t really concentrate with her ass so close to his junk and his brand on her skin. If he hadn’t wanted to fuck her before (he did), he totally did now, against the bank of lockers, preferably where everyone could see. Not in a perverted exhibitionist way, but in a “she’s mine, touch her and I’ll cut your limbs off one by one, way.
Puck leaned in nuzzling her cheek with his nose. Rachel turned her head and caught the edge of his mouth with her own. The kiss made her melt back into him. She could feel his arms come around her waist from behind. She momentarily forgot they were in the open and in a highly suggestive position. Her shirt was bunched up in his fist, while he basically blanketed her back, trying to push closer. When his tongue slid against her bottom lip she pulled away, letting her forehead rest on the locker in front of her.
“Skip.” She shook her head, gasping a little as his thumb slipped to the edge of her panties. “I can’t.”
He pushed away from her, “fine but later? You can’t leave me hanging after stamping my fucking number above your ass.” She shook her head at how crude he could be.
“Maybe.” She packed her bag fully aware of him watching her the entire time. She may have grabbed a binder she didn’t need from the top shelf, just because. That earned her a “baby,” which sounded distinctly like a (very gruff) warning. She tried to hide her shiver.
Rachel kissed him quickly, jumping back before his arms could come around her. She was half way down the hall before she turned back, seeing him still standing there, staring.
“Its not permanent, Noah.” He almost sounded like he let out a small whine but she just smiled, “yet. You always have to audition for a starring role.” She gave him a little grin and sauntered off.
Fuck he loves that girl.
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Prompt: Cow Tipping
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: G
Word Count: 333
Spoilers: None.
“Just so you know this is ridiculous.” Rachel yells. She’s sitting on an old log fence, bundled up in Puck’s letterman jacket. All the girls are passing a bottle of home made margaritas back and forth, trying not to freeze to death and what the boys doing? Sneaking up on defenseless cows.
Puck makes his way back to her, resting his hands on her legs, “Baby this is going to be epic!” She tries really hard not to smile at how excited he looks. “I don’t know how taunting bovine is fun, Noah and I don’t approve of it, but go have fun.” He kisses her quickly on the lips. “You’re awesome babe.”
Once he’s raced back over to Finn, Mike and Matt, Quinn hands her the bottle, resting her head on her shoulder.
“He’s an idiot,” Quinn says, laughing quietly. The blonde’s’ staring at her boyfriend break dancing in between cows. Rachel smiles, passing the bottle over to Santana. “He’s my idiot.”
Its one in the morning and they’re way passed the city limits and its March which means the chill in the air hasn’t disappeared, and her boyfriend is tipping cows. And she loves him so much it kind of hurts.
The boys get bored pretty quickly, because surprisingly once you’ve tipped one cow, you’ve tipped them all (at least that’s what it feels like). And all the booze is gone.
They lie out and watch the stars, since none of them are sober enough to drive. He’s got her pressed to his chest and she can feel his hand running through her hair. Some of the club is already asleep but she doesn’t want to shut her eyes yet.
“Was cow tipping everything you thought it would be?” She asks quietly, giggling when he tickles her side. She looks up at him. His eyes are half closed and he’s got this lazy smirk on his face, “Nah, but New York doesn’t have cows, had to get it out of my system.”
She lets her fingers ghost along his cheek and over his lips and he bites her thumb playfully. She nestles back into his arms, “Next time maybe aim to tip something smaller and closer to home.” He laughs and kisses her temple. “’Kay.”
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Prompt: Puck and Rachel get sick. Together. And are miserable. Together.
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 648
Spoilers: None.
Rachel never, ever got sick. That is until she allowed Puck and his germs near her person.
She looks and feels like hell. Her hair is a tangled mess, she’s wearing his huge McKinley football hoodie and her cheeks are bright red because of the fever. So the last thing she wants to hear is the doorbell. The last person she wants to see is Noah.
“I hate you.” Her nose is all stuffed up and she feels like her throat is being sand blasted and he has the nerve to show up on her door step, in his pajamas, with his comforter wrapped around his shoulders. He looks just as miserable as she feels, so she lets him in, even if she would love nothing more than to hit him with her hardcover copy of the Broadway anthology.
He’s not even fully in the hallway before she’s sobbing out, “I want to die.” She fists the front of his shirt in her hands, letting her head fall against his chest. It does feel sort of nice to have him wrap her up in his arms, kind of. Her being sick is still all his fault, though.
“I feel like shit too, you know,” he manages to croak out. “Its your fault we’re sick. If you would have taken the echnicea and kept your tongue to yourself-” He pushes her away from him and she doesn’t miss the eye roll. “Yeah, well no one forced you to get all up on the-“ The hacking cough definitely stops that from being sexy.
Rachel crumples back onto the couch, taking another swig of cough syrup and passing it to Puck. “I hope you know I am never allowing you to touch me again,” her voice is starting to crack and he’s hoping it disappears altogether. Soon.
Before getting sick he’d managed to, like stop, having Berry induced homicidal feelings, because he, you know, loves her. But it feels like one of those monkeys’ with the cymbals is living in his head and his mom and sister are out of town, which means no homemade soup. So no one can blame him for wanting his girlfriend to shut up and cuddle (he’s not gonna say it, she should just know, for fuck sakes). But he loves her, really he does. He didn’t want to be miserable without her, so he came here, knowing the threat of Barbara Streisand movies was like fucking high. That’s love.
“Noah could you please make me some soup?”
“No.” She can’t see anything but his head poking out of his navy blue comforter. She can’t help thinking he looks kind of cute pouting. “I came here so you would make me some fucking soup.” He sniffles (in a manly way), hoping to sound as pathetic as possible.
Rachel lets out a huff, staring longingly over the back of the couch. The kitchen isn’t that far, she could definitely make it. Except every bone, muscle and nerve in her body is aching. “If you loved me you would be valiant enough to get up and make soup.”
He blinks fixing his eyes on her, his eyebrow twitching upward. “No.”
“Fine then just end my life because without Glee and without-“ the last half of her words come out in this high-pitched squeak before dying off altogether. He can see her freaking; trying to get words out and he rolls his eyes.
“Calm down, Rach and get some fucking sleep.” He lays down and pulls her against his chest (FINALLY), kissing the top of her head. He knows that she’s already half asleep because her thumb is tracing his knuckles. It’s this weird thing she does right before she drifts off. And being here on this stupid cramped couch, listening to her snoring, is way fucking better than being alone and miserable at home, watching ESPN classic.
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Title: Fairest Of Them All
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 954
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: (407): i went to disney world today with my friends, met snow white, then saw her later at a bar. she is naked next to me in her bed, passwed out. when you wish upon a star...
It’s ridiculously hot out, like one hundred percent humidity in the shade type hot. The pins in her hair keep poking her scalp, her heels are two sizes too big and she officially hates her life. This is not the happiest place on earth; it’s obviously the seventh circle of hell. And if one more kid grabs her hand with their sticky ice cream covered ones, she’s going to scream. And possibly go on one of those rampages Noah gets all excited about on the News. All she wants is a drink and preferably to just to pass out from the heat so she can go home early.
Its not like she planned to be that girl in the costume at a theme park, it just sort of happened. Rachel hasn’t been back to Lima since she graduated College and came out to California, fully prepared to get an agent and be starring opposite Patti Lupone in the big screen version of Gypsy. That was two years and three characters ago.
Cinderella meant a bad wig and she was not a good-looking blonde, plus all those Quinn issues came rearing up. Then there was Jasmine but that got old really quick, when certain tourists shared there narrow minded views with her. So now it was Snow White, who all the kids loved despite the poor image it gave of women as only living to cook and clean up after men. Her supervisor didn’t really care for that rant, so it was this or the Pluto costume. She was never really a dog person.
Who knew going out to California wouldn’t mean instant movie deals and an Oscar nomination by 24? Instead she lives in a small motel rented by the month and lives off canned artichokes and the occasional (non poisonous) apple. All while pretending 4 out of the seven dwarves aren’t complete creeps who stare at her ass all day and she knows Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum sold Noah weed last month. Who is she kidding though? This is the best a young ingénue with a performing arts degree can get, which pays slightly more than nothing. At least it’s ‘their’ crappy apartment and ‘their’ canned artichokes.
She doesn’t even bother changing before heading for the bar around the corner from her ‘leaves much to be desired’ motel. And of course he’s already there, looking far too proud of himself.
“’Sup Snow?”
“Not now, Noah. I think my will to live has been permanently crushed.” He rolls his eyes like usual and she just knows he is going to call her a drama Queen. She can forgive this since he has a Cosmo waiting (which he usually refuses to order) and a shot of Tequila. She rests her legs on his lap and downs the shot taking a good swig of her Cosmo not long after.
“You know what this means right?” Puck looks way to gleeful for this to be any good and she arches her brow. “I’m sure I couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
“I get to fuck Snow White tonight, totally cool that I’m working my way through the princesses. Can you be Pocahontas next? I got a thing for loincloths.” She hits his arm as hard as she can, which right know is basically a tap. He just steals a kiss and keeps laughing at her mock outrage.
“You are abhorrent but at least you have goals.” Not abhorrent enough for her to stop his fingers from sweeping up and down her calves, but she is not happy about it, no siree, she isn't enjoying it at all.
“This Disney fetish is slightly disturbing, I’m afraid to check the Internet history.”
Puck smirks, “real live thing right here, babe. Plus that shits creepy.”
“I’m glad you’re a one princess man.” His eyes soften just a little and his palm comes to rest just bellow her knee, “You know it.” He loves being able to make her smile but being a pussy for a few seconds, its a fair trade.
“Take me home Prince Charming?” He snorts a little as he pulls her up, settling his arm around her waist. “Sure as long as we can get right to the ravaging part.”
When he leans down and whispers, “you’re the fairest of them all, Rach,” in her ear, she feels 16 and like she’s falling head over heels for him all over again. She can’t really help it if she kisses him slightly harder and longer than she usually would in public. She still can’t figure out how he manages to turn her insides to mush after all this time.
Rachel squeals when he tosses her over his shoulder and makes his way down the street to their place. Rachel can’t even imagine how ridiculous they look, and she really doesn’t care.
She wakes up to Noah snoring loudly beside her, his phone beeping between them. It’s still dark out, so she grabs it and goes into the bathroom before flipping it open.
“Dude stop sending me texts about Rach after you’ve… you know. Quinn doesn’t like it… and dude its creepy, our daughter likes those movies.”- Finn
Rachel clicks the sent text and she really shouldn’t be surprised to see “banged Snow White tonight, she’s passed out next to me, jealous Hudson? When you wish upon a star...”
When she gets back in bed he’s half awake and reaching for her. “You are so lucky I love you, Puckerman,” She whispers letting him fold her in his arms. His voice is scratchy in her ear as he says; “Getting you off six times doesn’t hurt either.”
And that ladies and gentlemen is the man she chose to marry.
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Title: Honesty and Stuff
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 787
Spoilers: None.
Prompt: They don't keep any secrets from each other. People are starting to find that really annoying.
When they first got together everyone gave it a week. Rachel told him about the little bet between the gleeks and he wasn’t fucking impressed.
He also didn’t like the little smirk Santana gave him when she said (with Rachel right fucking there), “Can’t wait to see how long it takes you to screw this one up. Little tip man hands, he won’t look you in the eyes when he lies.”
Puck’s’ never been as proud of his girl as when she got right up in Santana’s face and said, “no need to be so bitter that he refused to sleep with you at Troy Mason’s party last Friday.” Santana had no fucking comeback for that one.
What Santana doesn’t know? He doesn’t lie to Rachel. Chick really is kind of psychic, which freaks him out a little. And he likes having her around, he’s not gonna tempt fate and fuck it all up.
He knows Rachel isn’t gonna hang around and be treated like shit and he never, ever wants to make her cry like Finn did. So he doesn’t hide stuff and neither does she, because she gets the number Quinn did on his head (and heart).
And he actually likes talking to her. She gets him, okay? Puck really doesn’t care if Matt glares at him for like a week, because Rachel cornered him in the hall and lectured for like ten minutes on the “appropriate ways to address females in a text message”. Yeah he lets Rachel read his texts. Its not like she asks, its just that he needs both hands to play Mario Kart, and she can just read them out. Girl types a hell of a lot faster than him, so its win-win. Its pretty funny listening to her trying to figure out text speak.
Plus there’s the odd time a Cheerio sexts him (never more than once after Rach “handles it”), and he legit has to pause his game ‘cause she gets all possessive and needs to be straddling him and making out like right away. Sometimes she even goes down on him, so anyone who says honesty doesn’t pay? Fuckin’ liars, who’ve never experienced a girl with no gag reflex.
So what if the rest of the club doesn’t appreciate their no secrets rule. They should just know better than to tell him shit, since he just passes it right on to Rachel. Literally. The last note he got in class from Mike he handed to Rachel to read and respond to, without even looking at it. She’s better with words and stuff and it was about Britt (again) and he’s really bored with that shit. And Rachel talks a lot so of course she tells him everything, otherwise it would all just be musicals and Tony’s’, and shit, that would be awful.
So he’s not all that surprised when shit hits the fan.
He’s giving her a piggyback into the choir room (she wore heels for him it was the least he could do), when they’re greeted by the entire Glee club gathered in a line. They all have their arms crossed, like they’re getting ready for a fight or something. He can hear Rachel let out a surprised squeak.
“What up losers?”
Artie rolls to the front of the group, wearing that serious, ‘I’m about to lay some knowledge on your ass’ look. “We are doing this because we care about you and don’t want to be responsible for your untimely murder at the hand of many sharp objects.”
Rachel stepped forward hands on hips. “Is this an intervention? What could you possibly take issue with in relation to us?”
She probably shouldn’t have asked that, since suddenly everyone is talking at once. There’s hand waving and yelling and Santana actually fucking growls.
“You told him I slept with Mike!” Tina.
“You told Rach about that time at camp with Billy Higgins.” Finn.
“Why are guys talking about me and Santana hooking up? Me and Santana don’t even talk about it.” Quinn.
“Me having mono was a fucking secret, Puck!” Santana.
“Rachel gave me pamphlets Puck! That shits embarrassing.” Mike.
“Its just not normal
They catch a bit of the flurry of complaints but Puck kind of tunes them out, Rachel can just fill him in later/ When it gets quiet again, Rachel turns to him, “I don’t think they appreciate that you tell me things and vice versa.”
Puck shrugs, resting his hands on her hips. “You give a fuck?” She kisses the side of his mouth. “Not particularly.” He has to kiss her than, because she basically just told the gleeks to fuck off, minus the actually ‘fuck’.
“Hello! We are still standing here!”
-------------------------------------------
Prompt: "What if I was pregnant?"
"I am not prepared to answer that question. I'm focusing on what kind of muffin I'm going to get."
Pairing: Puck/Rachel.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 687
Spoilers: None.
So he’s standing in line at Starbucks and Rachel keeps fucking fidgeting. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, toying with the bottom of her sweater and biting her lip. Puck looks at her kind of willing her to stop moving.
“You need to piss or something?”
Her eyes go all round. “Noah don’t be so disgusting, we’re in public!” She smiles apologetically at this old woman who turns to look at them. Like he gives a fuck, she’s been acting weird for like three days.
“Well than stand fucking still, you’re worse than Luce.” He goes back to looking at the coffee options, trying not to get a headache at the prices. He hates this stupid place, with their stupid half decaf, soy crap, and their non-foam foams, on their non-coffee coffees.
“Noah?” Rachel tugs on his shirtsleeve and he looks down to see her biting her lip and refusing to actually look at him.
“What?”
She whacks his shoulder. “What the fuck, B?”
“Stop being so grumpy.”
“Than stop taking me here and making me wait for fucking ever, just to order a black coffee that will cost me more than a handjob on 63rd.”
Yeah that old lady totally blows a gasket over that one, and like he’s going to be ashamed, he just smiles and twirls his finger, telling her to turn back around. Rachel is basically the color of a tomato and she looks like she might kill him in his sleep, even he wasn’t so pretty or something.
“I can’t believe I’m bringing a-“ Rachel takes a deep breath and tries not to throttle him, its all part of her therapists count back from 10 plan.
She takes Puck’s hand in hers, trying to get his attention but he’s too busy staring at muffins, muffins.
“What if I was pregnant?” Rachel says, watching his expression closely. Puck won’t even look at her; although she sees him sort of gulp. The hand in hers is starting to grip a little too tight, for her liking.
“Noah?”
"I am not prepared to answer that question. I'm focusing on what kind of muffin I'm going to get."
Rachel sighs. “I’m pregnant and all he can think about is muffins.” She lets his hand go and puts a little distance between them, trying hard not to cry. What did she expect from the man whose idea of showing emotion was buying her break pads for Valentines Day. Baby, not wanting you to crash into a poll, that’s love.
She can feel him looking at her, even if she refuses to turn back to him.
“Are you really?”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “No I made it up to interrupt your muffin selection. I know how easily distracted you are, and I’ve been eying the last blueberry one.” Puck actually looks like he believes that, so she hits him again. “Of course I’m pregnant, you idiot.”
She squeals when he lifts her off the ground in one of those bear hugs he loves so much.
“I’m gonna be a dad?” She nods, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He puts her down and kisses her and she knows he’s happy, because he doesn’t get that goofy grin unless she’s naked, or he beat a new level in Mario Kart. He rubs his nose against hers and she laughs.
“So you’re happy?” He rests his forehead against her, his thumbs brushing against her stomach. “Yeah, B.”
Then he’s dragging her out towards the door. “But Noah my-“
“Fuck this place and its six dollar crap coffee. We’ve got a kid coming and that shits expensive. Diapers and tuition, ain’t gonna pay for themselves babe.”
She grabs her hand back and stops, completely throwing him off, until he turns back to her. Rachel has this smile on her face and she crooks her finger at him.
“What?”
“You’re a moron.” She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up to kiss him quickly. “But I love you.”
“Love you too, babe.”
“Good now go get your pregnant girlfriend a muffin.”