I'm excited! I've just discovered the Puck/Rachel drabble meme, and I have a feeling that I'll be writing some more, haha. So this is where I'll be keeping all my random little drabbles. :)
Inspired by this prompt by roncha78:
Puck figured out that the best way to shut Rachel up when they're fighting/arguing/he messed up/he wants her to do something is to sing to her, because she could never resist him when he was singing. Rachel's on to him.

Tears are very clearly filling up in Rachel's eyes, and Puck kind of wants to shoot himself in the head. She's over-reacting again, simply because he may have accidentally told her that the completely-vegan dinner that she'd prepared especially for him tasted like shit. Look, he's not a bad guy. It's not like he wanted to start an argument. Seriously, does he look stupid to you? He never wins arguments with Rachel. Ever. And every time she gets the final word, he feels like he's been mentally kicked in the balls. So yeah, he usually just keeps his mouth shut. But Rachel had asked if it was okay, and then he'd said that he'd like it more with meat in it, and she took it way too personally and thought he'd been insulting her culinary skills, and from that point on, things kind of just... exploded.

"Babe, calm down..." His voice is pleading as he stands in front of her in the candle-lit kitchen, his hands placed protectively in front of his chest, as she waves her arms around in huge gestures, her face growing more and more red, as the volume of her voice rises steadily. He's sort of scared that she's going to end up hitting him, and he really feels fucking pathetic.

"Calm down? You seem to completely disregard the fact that you deeply offended me! I'll have you know, Noah Puckerman, that I took a Home Economics class last year, and that I know how to prepare delicious food!"

She's talking quickly, furiously, even with the tears that are now streaming down her face and dripping from her chin. Puck can only stare with wide, horrified eyes. She has to be on her period or something, because her crazy has multiplied by like, thirteen billion. She's still yelling, but Puck can barely even make out what she's saying anymore. Fuck his life.

"...And now, it appears that my own boyfriend doesn't even care about the trouble I go through to make him a wonderful meal! It just goes to show that you have no respect for me, and you're obviously only using me for sexual intercourse-"

"Baby, you're talking crazy-" He tries to cut her off, but it's obviously the worst thing he could have possibly said in the history of ever, because her eyes grow huge and her hands fly to her hips, and she seems to take this big, deep breath, and he is legit fucking fearing for his life and-

"I. AM. NOT. CRAZY."

He's kind of impressed at the amount of noise that can come out of someone so small. He's not impressed, however, with her new rant, one that details clearly all the times in the last year that he's called her crazy, and how her therapist has told her time and time again that she definitely isn't.

His ears are starting to hurt and he really fucking wants her to shut up now, because he doesn't want to argue. He wants to eat his (crappy, though he'd never, ever, ever say that to her face) dinner and then fuck her happily until her dads come home.

So he opens his mouth to interrupt her again and he's seriously fucking surprised at what comes out.

"Where it began, I can't begin to know when,"

She stops mid-sentence to stare at him in complete and utter confusion. Thankful for the sudden silence, he keeps singing.

"But then I know it's growin' strong."

She blinks, and Puck smirks as he sings, knowing she's lost her train of thought. Win, at least for a second. But then she speaks again, though her voice seems a whole lot calmer all of a sudden.

"Puck, you can't just-"

He hates it now, when she uses his first name. The sound is unfamiliar to him, and he knows it means she's still mad at him so he doesn't let her finish what she's saying.

"Wasn't the spring-"

"Puck!"

"And spring became summer, who'd believed you'd come along."

He's trying to make his voice all quit and sexy and irresistible in the dimly-lit kitchen, because he knows Rachel's number-one turn on is music, and he wants to be seductive, dammit. He's watching her as he sings, her lips shaped in a stubborn pout, her cheeks flushed with anger, and her arms crossed against her chest. She's unknowingly pushing her boobs up and making them look bigger in the flickering of the candlelight, and his jeans suddenly feel a little tighter. She's fucking stunning. And she seriously needs to calm down so he can get under that little skirt of hers. He steps closer.

"I can't believe you're doing this-"

"Hands touching hands,"

He takes a hold of both her wrists, pulling them gently away from her chest, and she sighs and rolls her eyes, but lets him do it anyway.

"Reaching out,"

He runs his thumb over her jawline, and her eyes flutter close for a second. She takes several calming breaths, and Puck's smirk grows bigger. He's the fucking man.

"Touching me, touching you, oh."

His hand moves to the back of her head, holding her in place, and she places both of her own hands on his chest, obviously trying to keep a distance between them, but he's having none of it.

"Sweet Caroline,"

He leans his head towards her, so that his nose brushes against hers softly. Her eyes close again, and he hears her quiet sigh, her breath warm against his face.

"Good times never seemed so good,"

"Noah..." His name is nothing but a whisper on her lips and he knows he's won, because suddenly she's like this little fireball-type-thing, and her arms are tightly wound around his neck, her legs are wrapped around his own, and he's holding her in his arms as she kisses him stupid.

All he can hear inside is head is cheering. Yes, yes, fucking yes.

He doesn't even get to finish the chorus.