Well. Ive decided to write a Puckleberry oneshot every day for a month. Any story requests? Send them to me3 I'll write them.

DISCLAIMER:
I don't own glee. Trust me, If I did there would be a LOT more Puckleberry and Brittana ;D

Noah Puckerman had been asleep for thirteen hours. He had been working really hard for the past week on getting ready for state championships (Yeah, WMHS got to the state game, holy fucking shit, right?) and he had gotten zero sleep. So when givin the oppertunity to lay down, he was out. During those thirteen hours, he had recieved nine voice mails from Rachel Berry. Seeing those message alerts freaked Puck the fuck out, Rachel never called him that much unless something was seriously fucking wrong. Instantly, Puck dialed Rachel's number, no answer. "Fuck. Berry, answer the damn phone." He tried again. No answer. Finally, Puck just decided to listen to the messages, maybe she'd say something in them to make sense of all of this.

Puck hit the voicemail button and put in his passcode (2384 if you were wondering. It was 'Beth' in numbers.)

"First Message. Sent yesterday at 8:30 PM.

Hey Noah! It's Rachel. I was just calling to see if you wanted to come over and watch a movie with me. I understand that you and I are both Jewish and do not celebrate Christmas to the extent that other people in the Club do, but it isn't any reason not to be able to cuddle up together and watch Miracle on 34th Street. Finn Brought over some Eggnog. I'll wait to open it until you get here. Hope to see you soon!"

Fuck. The Eggnog. Puck had givin Finn two jugs of Eggnog as a joke that were spiked with tequila. Not only were they spiked, but they were so spiked that a few sips could send a light weight like Rachel Berry over the edge into drunkland. "Shit Berry. Please tell me you didn't drink that." Puck sighed and hit the next button, waiting for the new message.

"New Message. Sent yesterday at 9:23 PM

NOAHHH! It's Rachel again! Why arnt you here? I really want you to be here. Did I ever tell you, I love your mohawk. It's a secret. Shhh. This eggnog is great. Where are you. Come over. Watch this movie with me! Where are you? Ugh!"

Well. This meant that Rachel Berry had definitly consumed some of the eggnog. Maybe, Puck Thought, she was smart enough to stop drinking it. She was Rachel Berry after all, and she was fucking smart as hell. "Guess it's time for the next message..."

"New Message. Sent yesterday at 10:02 PM

Well, I've figured out something I-M-P-O-R-T-A-N-T! This. Eggnog. Is. Spiked. You think Finn did it? Oh God, Noah! I bet he spiked it so he could make out with me. I wonder why he wants to make out with me. Do you want to make out with me? Come over. We can make out. I'll make all your wildest dreams come true. MWAHHHH! ...That was me giving you a phone kiss. OH! I was kissing you through the phone!"

Oh fucking hell. Rachel Berry was not only drunk, but she was a fucking Frisky drunk. Puck was mentally kicking himself in the head for not being awake. He could be waking up right now next to Rachel, but instead he's waking up in his room, listening to his little sister play some god awful music... Justin Something. Whoever it was, it sucked.

Okay. Time for the next message.

"New Message. Sent lastnight at 10:45 PM

. We should have babies. Your mom would accept them because they'd be jewish. They'd be hot too. Do you think our babies would be hot? They'd be hot. Id even let you name on. Maybe. But you have to choose from a selected list of names from Broadway shows.

Oh and Puck? I think you have really nice abs. They turn me on. Shhhhhh dont tell."

Puck started laughing. He was laughing so hard that he almost fell off the bed. Rachel Berry was the most adorable fucking human in the world. He really wished that he had just been awake to pick up the phone and be with her, instead of sleeping.

Next.

"New Message. Sent lastnight at 11:13 PM

Have I ever told you that I don't like the name Puck? Noah is sexier. I'd much rather scream out Noah then Puck in the middle of the night. Hahahaha. That was a sex reference. If you were here.. We could have...S-E-X. Come over. Me Love U Long Time."

This was getting out of control. She had to be out of Eggnog by this point. Or not. Rachel was pretty light weight. Last time they had been drunk together it only took a mikes hard lemonade to get her totally wasted, and she was really. Really handsy that night.

Next.

"New Message. Sent today at 12:12 AM.

I Love this eggnog. My head hurts. The room is spinning Noah. Why is the room spinning? Am I at the fair? And If your answer is no, can we please relocate this conversation to the fair? You know those zero gravity machines there? I want to sex you up in there. It would be fun because we'd be in zero gravity. Like moonmen. Or spacemen. Whatever its called. I need a brain booster. My noggin hurts."

...That actually sounded pretty fucking sexy. Puck was imagining it, but had to stop himself, before he had to go to Rachel's house right then and there and take her to the fair... If you catch his drift.

"New Message. Sent Today at 1:00 AM.

POPPIN' BOTTLES IN ICE, LIKE A LIZARD. WHEN I DRINK I GET HER RIGHT IN THE SLIZARD. SIPPIN SYRUP IN MY RIDE, LIKE THREE SIX. NOW I'M FEELIN SO FLY LIKE KNEEPICKS.

Wait... whats a kneepick. Noah? Seriously. Whats a kneepick. I need to know. WHATS A KNEE-"

What. Was. That. Puck didn't even understand, He just laughed. It was seriously the most fucking crazy thing he had ever heard in his life. He just wanted to pick her up and hug her now, and tell her how fucking amazing she was. Three messages left. This had to be good.

"New Message. Sent today at 1:34 PM

Turns out there isnt anything called a kneepick. I asked Finn. Finn knows all about stupid stuff like that. I think he's magic. Like Harry Potter. Hey! Did you ever notice.. Blaine looks a LOT like the guy in that Harry Potter musical? Because he does.

What if blaine is famous? What if he's like Hannah Montana and wants the best of both worlds? ...I want the best of both worlds. Give me the best of both worlds, Puck.

YOU GET THE LIMO OUT FRONT... WOAH OH OH...

i dont know the rest... Sing it to me, Noah. Pleaseeeee. I need you to-"

It cut her off. She was talking so much and tripping over all of her words, but it was funny because he understood everything she was talking about... Except the Finn thing. That, he didn't understand. Puck was having so much fun with these messages that he didn't want them to end. Ever.

"New Message. Sent today at 2:01 AM

...UH. What are you wearing? I'm in something seeeeeeexy. You'd love it.

I'm winking right now. It's directed for you. Wink. I'm in lengerie. Wink."

Holyshit. Rachel Berry totally wanted a piece of the Puckmiester. Last Message. He hoped it would be great.

"New Message. Sent today at 7:00 AM

Hello Noah, This is Rachel's Daddy. It seams that she got into some...alcoholic eggnog lastnight... and you were her most dialed... Actually, besides a two minute conversation with around one, you were her only dialed... Anyways, We were wondering... She's very... Very hungover and keeps crying for you to come take care of her. She says that you will know the best hangover fixers, which we will ignore that comment, we're just asking. Please come over for her. She said she just wants you to hold her and make her headache go away. Thank you. Have a nice day."

She wanted him to come hold her. Rachel Berry didn't want Finn, Jesse, or even Kurt. She wanted Noah Puckerman, a fuck up from the wrong side of town with a baby. That had to mean something fucking special. Puck quickly put on his clothes and grabbed a bottle of asprin, his favorite blanket (For her to cover up in... She likes the way he smells... shutup.) and Miricle on 34th Street.

It took him fifteen minutes from the time he listened to the message to the time he showed up at Rachels house. It took him five to kick his shoes off and cover up with her on the bed, cuddled up, and it took him less than two to kiss her on the forhead and tell her that he loved her. For the rest of the day (and that night) they layed in the bed together and watched christmas movies, only getting up to get some hot coco, or go to the bathroom. Noah Puckerman knew that right there was where he belonged, and he wouldn't trade that spot for the world.