Title: Declarations in Ink
Category: Glee
Genre: Humor/Friendship/Romance
Ship: Rachel/Puck, Santana
Rating: Teen
Warning(s): Coarse Language
Prompt: rachel gets a tattoo of puck's name - puckrachel drabble meme
Word Count: 2,963
Summary: "She was very convincing, you understand… One minute I was lamenting our relationship and where it might be headed and the next we were standing in Jose's tattoo parlor and it really seemed like a very good idea at the time…"
Declarations in Ink
-1/1-
"This is utterly ridiculous!" She wrung her hands, eyes darting to and fro. "And how certain are you of the sanitary requirements this establishment recognizes?"
Santana blinked at her, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. "B… Jose is the best. He totally rocked Lima and then he moved up here to New York and he's the shit… He should have his own show, legit. Watch out LA Ink, bitches…"
She scoffed. "Jose is your cousin; of course you're going to say he's the best. To say any different would undermine your family and quite possibly cut you off from any future free or discounted body modifications…" She chewed her lip. "You're sure they clean their tools, aren't you?" She darted her big brown eyes up to look at her. "Have you ever actually seen them clean anything?"
Santana popped her hip out irritably. "I'm doing you a solid here, nena… I expect compensation!" She eyed her up and down, smirking. "I like the taste of cherry chapstick, princesa!"
Rachel huffed, rolling her eyes. "Regardless of how many times you quote Katy Perry, you and I will not be engaging in physical relations, Santana."
The Latina girl pouted. "You ruin all my fun, chiquita."
"And you are quickly becoming a very bad influence for which I've becoming disturbingly powerless against…"
"You're still holding out on exploring my feminine side, Berry, so I think you're stronger than you think."
"Wouldn't I be exploring my more feminine side?"
Smirking darkly, Santana raised a suggestive brow. "Mutual exploration, B."
She wrinkled her nose, turning away to look once more around the shop at the various walls covered top to bottom in drawings and pictures. "You realize that the reason behind our outing today, while entirely too open to the concept of watching us engage in foreplay, would be terribly upset if you actually managed to woo me away, don't you?"
"It's not wooing, belleza. It's seducing." She winked. "And I'm really good at it."
"So far you're failing." She pursed her lips. "But if it makes you feel at all better, it's very reassuring whenever you compliment me, indirectly or not. I find it helps soothe my previously bruised ego over past nicknames like Treasure Trail and Midget, when compared with the much more flattering terms of endearments you use now."
Santana frowned. "I was a bitch," she said casually.
Rachel's eyes twinkled when she returned, "Yes… You were very much a puta."
She laughed, loud and thick, shaking her head at the shorter girl. "You got balls, Berry."
"I have it on good authority that those are only metaphorical…" She winked playfully. "And you've looked up my skirt enough times to know that's true."
"San? That you?" Jose stepped out from behind a faded yellow curtain. He glanced at the girl next to her and then back, confused. "Who's the niña de la escuela?"
"She's not a school girl, she just…" Santana glanced disdainfully down at Rachel's skirt. "She's got a kink. The fuck ever. You open for business or what?" She held up a wad of cash and waved it meaningfully. "'Coz if you ain't, I can hook my girl up with ink elsewhere."
Jose curled a lip. "Bring 'er back… I got an hour." He cocked a brow at Rachel. "You know what you want, chiquita?"
"Oh." She raised her brows. "Yes." She nodded quickly, studiously following him into the back room. "I've spent a good amount of time deliberating on what I could have permanently written into my very nice and previously unblemished skin." She sighed, loud and suffering. "I'm afraid it seems unnaturally uncreative… To be honest, I had always thought my first tattoo would involve a much more elaborate story, but the truth of the matter is that I've come to get a name imprinted on my person. Just that. A name. Singular. Not musical notes, not a picture of some sort. In the grand scheme, it will likely be one of my less dramatic or well thought out ideas. But Santana is very persuasive… And for some reason, unfathomable as it may seem, her logic spoke to me."
"She's totally in love with my boy and they've been going at it like bunnies since junior year… She wants to get married but he's like shit at taking her hints and hasn't popped the question yet… So she's staking her lifelong claim with his name." Santana smirked. "She wanted to like pop a knee and propose to him, but fuck that Friends shit, this is totally better… Plus I get a family discount and I don't have to wear some ugly bridesmaid dress." She shuddered for effect.
"I'll have you know that I would have picked out perfectly adequate dresses for the occasion and the coloring would have truly brought out your eyes," Rachel argued, huffing.
"Whatever, B." She waved a hand dismissively. "Just lose some clothes and show us where you want Puck's stamp on your bod."
"I had thought my shoulder was the best choice… but I'm somewhat hesitant as I've heard that places where the skin is thinner hurt more." She chewed her lip. "I have to take my career into consideration, as well. Having various colorful tattoos may take away from the image I need to portray."
"It's one. One tattoo, Berry… Just get it somewhere nobody will be seeing… Like on your ass." She winked. "You got a hot ass, B."
Rachel nodded. "That's true… I work very hard to keep my glutes in such attractive condition."
Santana smirked. "Noticed and appreciated."
"Okay… I've decided." She sat back on the parlor chair and declared, "I'm ready for my tattoo, Mr. Jose."
Jose and Santana exchanged a look and then stared down at the petite girl. "Details?"
An hour later, Rachel walked into her high-rise apartment, wincing slightly at the constant burn of her tattoo. It wasn't strong but persistent and she couldn't find anything to distract her long enough not to pay attention to it.
"Babe?"
Rachel looked up, searching out the man to the voice. "Yes?" she called, absently.
"Where you been?" He came out of the living room and found her putting on a pot for tea. "Satan's been sending me weird texts all afternoon."
She smiled briefly. "She does like knowing things before you do."
Puck cocked a brow. "The hell does she know?" He glanced at her stomach and then back up. "Holy shit, are you preggers?"
She scoffed. "While I want to have children with you, I feel that the timing of such an occasion is not yet upon us… I'm only finding my place in Broadway and you're working tirelessly to climb the ranks at work… It would be irresponsible to bring a child into our lives when there's still chaos abounding."
He blinked at her. "Whatever, B. We'll have a litter when you're ready."
She pursed her lips. "They're not puppies, Noah."
He smirked. "They? So we're having a few?"
Her eyes fell to the kettle. "I had thought to have children when I was married and secure in my career." She lifted a shoulder dismissively. "Until that happens, I don't suppose discussing children, be they plural or otherwise, really matters."
His brows furrowed. "'s kinda important, don't you think? I mean if I'm tying my ass to yours for the rest of our lives, shouldn't I know how many awesome Jew-tastic Puckerman's are gonna be popping out of your berry?"
Sighing long and loud, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Please stop referring to my reproductive system as a berry…"
He grinned. "Maybe when it stops pissing you off so much."
"You're absolutely ridiculous," she muttered, reaching for the pot as it whistled away for attention.
"Mm," he grunted, snagging a banana and peeling away at it as he sat atop the counter. "So what were you and San up to?"
"We stopped in to see her cousin Jose," she replied, making up her mug of tea. "He was a perfectly nice gentlemen. He didn't talk much and what he did was half in Spanish, but that was fine."
"He didn't talk much or you didn't let him get a word in edgewise?" Puck teased, mouth full of banana.
She glared at him over her shoulder. "Ha, ha."
He shrugged. "Hey, isn't Jose the dude that does awesome tattoos?"
She stilled. "Um, yes… He… He happens to excel in body art, you're right."
His brows furrowed and he tossed the empty banana peel across to their garbage can. "So… Why were you hanging with a tattoo artist?"
"Oh, well… You see…" Sighing, she turned toward him. "She was very convincing, you understand… One minute I was lamenting our relationship and where it might be headed and the next we were standing in Jose's tattoo parlor and it really seemed like a very good idea at the time…"
He stared at her. "You… got a tattoo?"
She scowled. "I don't appreciate your disbelieving tone, Noah."
He grinned slowly. "Lemme see."
"No," she sniffed. "Not only have you implied that I am either too weak to get a tattoo or simply not exciting enough, but you've completely undermined the whole process…" Crossing her arms, she tapped her foot and decided, "I'm going to let it heal and should I feel like you deserve it—"
"Babe… You think I'm going to fuck you with your clothes on?" He cocked a brow. "Eventually, and it's probably soon, I'm gonna get you naked and then I'm gonna see it… So why don't we just get it outta the way now?"
"Perhaps I'm suffering a dry-spell," she decided, nodding. "Yes, in fact I think even your most base advances won't convince me to—"
He was across the room and had her backed up against the counter within seconds. She stared up into his face and her breath stuttered out of her. His hips aligned with hers and she felt every hard muscle of his body as it pressed tight to her own. She swallowed thickly as the scent of him, pure masculinity, wafted up into her nose and sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. The annoying burn of her tattoo was long forgotten as a pulse of desire wound its way along her belly and between her thighs.
"You were saying?" he growled, the timber of his voice sending flashes of want all across her skin. He reached up, dragging his fingers along her hair from her temples back, his thumbs grazing the shells of her ears. "Babe, we've been doing this since we were seventeen… I think I know how to get you worked up enough that you forgot about all your empty threats."
"Empty?" Her eyes narrowed. "If you want to make this a battle of wills, Noah—"
He leaned forward, their noses bumping. "Just show me the tat, Berry."
She sighed. "You're insufferable."
She leaned into him, encouraging him to back up, but for a moment he stood still, their bodies plastered tight enough that she swore he could feel the hammering of her heart hard against his chest. Finally, with a cheeky smirk, he backed up, hooking his thumbs in the loops of his jeans.
Flipping her shirt up, she gripped the sides of her skirt and started shimmying.
His brows rose. "That was easier than I thought."
She glared at him. "I'm not distracting you with blatant sexuality," she scoffed. "It just so happens that my tattoo is rather low on my hip and—"
He scowled darkly. "Wait, Jose got you out of your skirt?"
"Not out of it exactly. Much like the situation at present, I had simply moved the skirt down and out of the way so he had better access to that part of my body… Santana helped hold the fabric out of the way, but between you and me, I'm absolutely sure it was only so she could try to feel me up."
"Probably," he muttered, shrugging. "Whatever, let's see it."
Letting out a long, dramatic sigh, she lifted her shirt up and out of the way and pushed the side of her skirt down low before she tugged at the tape holding down the gauze and peeled it away carefully. "It's still red and possibly swollen, but the writing should be perfectly legible."
"What is it, like song lyrics or something?" He pouted. "Dude, if you got some Babs shit, I'm gonna be pissed that your tattoo wasn't even a little badass, I mean—" He stopped talking when his eyes fell on the black cursive that spun attractively along her hip bone.
"It's not very intricate," she admitted. "I had thought perhaps when this has healed I might return and get something more musically centered… Perhaps your idea of a Babs dedication would be…" She trailed off, heart hitching as the rough pad of his finger carefully slid along the sensitive skin. He dropped down to his knees and just stared a long while, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed into a hard line. "Noah?" She felt self-conscious all of a sudden. "I realize I didn't ask for your permission to have your name branded on my person, but—"
"No, I…" He glanced up at her and then back, his eyes soft. "'s cool, B…" He licked his lips. "'s like you're really mine."
She raised a brow. "Of course I am. Just as you are mine…" She let her hand fall from her skirt and threaded her fingers in his 'hawk. "We've had nine years together, Noah… I had thought you already knew I was yours…"
"Two of those I was fighting to keep Hudson off your tail… For a dude who hurt and lied to you so much, he was shit at leaving you alone…" He shrugged. "And the rest, I just— I just figured I'd wake up one day and you'd realized you wasted all this time on some Lima Loser who chased after you to New York and was too damn in love with you to let you go…"
"Oh Noah…" Her hand fell, cupping his face and directing it up so he would look at her. "We're both completely ridiculous," she sighed.
He frowned. "Babe, I just said some really deep shit… You can't call me names. It's like, wrong."
She smiled. "I just meant that I agreed to the tattoo mostly because I'd been moaning to Santana that you were never going to propose and the closest declaration I would ever get to forever would be to prove it to myself by tattooing your name on my body… Admittedly, as soon as Santana's logic began to make sense, I should have separated myself from the situation and called someone of a clearer mind… It's really quite upsetting that my best friend is a bisexual woman who used to habitually harass me and now gives me advice on my relationship with her ex-lover… and who has boundary issues." Her brows rose. "You know, if you're not careful, she might actually kiss me one day and who knows what that could lead to…"
"Awesome spank-bank material," he offered.
She rolled her eyes. "The point being that I was insecure about our relationship but I shouldn't have been… We've had nine beautiful years together and even if we never get married and continue on our current course, then I won't be disappointed…" She smiled down at him gently. "I love you, Noah Puckerman, and only you… And while I find your name very attractive and feel it looks quite flattering on me, I don't need it to stake my claim on you." She rubbed his cheek with her thumb. "You're already mine and I'm afraid you may be stuck with me for the rest of your life."
He grinned. "I think I can live with that." Pressing a quick kiss to her hip, he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around her waist, cradling her close. "But just so we're clear… I got a ring in the bedroom and I was planning on proposing eventually… You're gonna be my wife, Rach, and I'll get a matching tattoo to prove it."
She smiled widely. "I hope that wasn't your proposal. I'd really like something more elegant. Perhaps at that new Italian restaurant on—"
Nodding, he kissed her, effectively shutting her up and with a light laugh, she let him. He was, after all, hers and so she couldn't really complain, not after she declared her intentions with permanent ink. She couldn't wait to see the sentiment returned. Rachel (she absolutely refused to let him have Berrywritten on his person) – and a gold star, of course. She planned on being the one and only star in his life and now that he knew that, he really couldn't argue with her. And if he did, she would just have to change his mind. As clothes were shed and his fingers trailed across her still sore tattoo, she thought she might have a good idea of how to distract him while Jose inked him with the all important metaphor.
Hours later, sated and deliriously happy, she thought she might just have to thank Santana for her indirect help – maybe a chaste cherry chapstick kiss was in the cards after all. As long as Noah was there to bear witness, she didn't see the harm. She felt Noah's lips graze her hip once more and knew he was ready for round three. Thank God for Santana Lopez and her cousin Jose. She would have to send him a gift basket. Vegan, of course. After that, she was entirely distracted by her future husband and she couldn't say she was disappointed with the result.
[End.]
Spanish Translations:
Nena – Baby Girl
Princesa – Princess
Chiquita – Little One
Belleza - Beautiful
