You guys are super lucky that I have managed to post this. Our internet is down so it's all a giant struggle at the moment, but I can't not update my Valentine's story on Valentine's day! Happy V Day all! Hope you haven't all thrown up from the hideously cutesy stuff going on today. Just remember; all the chocolate is discounted tomorrow!

IMPORTANT! I read through the last 3 part turned 4 part story and I realised something hideous! I left an entire scene out of part 2, which I have now added, and I am so sorry to you all because it's actually quite important and I don't know how I didn't notice it before. Again, I'm so sorry, it's there if you want to read it. Gah sorry!


THE OOPSY DAISY VALENTINE'S

It isn't really supposed to have gone this way.

The way Jesse planned it out, it should have gone perfectly, smoothly. He had prepared for everything; known every step, every moment, every gesture. His plan had been flawless, meticulously arranged over months and months to ensure it would be perfect.

It's their last Valentine's at Barden, and he wants it to be unforgettable.

So why is he on the wrong side of her door pleading to be let back inside?

The night had started out great. He had waited for her outside her class, and held her hand as they walked leisurely across campus to her room. They discussed her day and she'd told him about her passing grade in a recent assignment. It was comfortable, their usual routine, and she is at ease enough with the PDA now to have walked close to him so that their arms were pressed together, and sometimes, when she was in a really good mood, she would wrap her other hand around his elbow. Today had been one of those days. She'd even let him kiss her in congratulations over her grade.

"I'm proud of you Bec," he'd mumbled against her lips. "It only took you three and a half years to start taking college work seriously."

She'd slapped him playfully, pulling away from the kiss but keeping her grip on his hand, and he couldn't help but think about how perfect his life was; he was captain of the Treble's, who were also a great group of friends that he appreciated immensely, he was doing great in his studies, and of course he had Beca who was really the only thing he ever needed, and he had his job at the station to tide him over with enough money. Life at Barden was great, and when he glanced over to Beca walking peacefully at his side, humming quietly to herself as her hair shone in the sunlight, he knew it was all because of her.

Arriving back at her dorm, she was mildly unimpressed (or so she said) about the roses on her desk, but she just rolled her eyes and kissed him softly. Her shirt had ridden up when she stretched up to her shelves, pushing records out of the way, and she retrieved a bottle of his favourite whisky. Flashing that cheeky grin he loved so much, she poured them both a glass.

"If you're going to force me to go along with your crazy antics for this day, I'm doing so drunk."

"You're such a wonderful girlfriend," he'd teased, but clinked his glass against hers anyway.

"I am, because if I weren't, I'd have gotten tired of you long ago." She downed the contents of the glass, her eye twitching as it burned her throat, and he followed suit, slamming his glass against her desk and pressing himself into her. Her mouth tasted of alcohol and strawberries, and it made him dizzy as she racked her nails across his ribs under his shirt.

It all happened very quickly after that.

Let's just say whisky bottles and highly expensive music equipment do not mix well.

"Beca, please, I'm sorry," he pleads through the door, and he can hear her cursing to herself angrily.

"Screw you, Jesse!" she yells.

"Bec, my darling Valentine, I can fix this."

There's a thump against the door and he realises making light of the situation may not be the best. "It was an accident! You can't seriously hold this against me!"

"You tipped an entire bottle of whisky all over my fucking mixer board!"

"Not on purpose!"

"You still did it!"

"Beca, would you please let me in?" He rests his forehead against the cool paint of the door. "Let me help –"

"You can help by backing off!"

He sighs, placing a hand against the doorframe. He hates it when she gets like this. "Beca, you're doing it again."

"I'm serious Swanson, get the hell away from my door before I –"

"Beca! Simple Minds!"

It goes quiet inside her room, and he wonders if she'll accept his use of their agreed upon phrase to use in times of pure stupidity, when either of them get too ridiculous and too close to making a mountain out of a mole hill. It is not used very often, as they have learnt to be able to work with each other's flaws, supporting rather than antagonizing, soothing instead of making it all so much worse. For a moment, there's a doubt as to whether she'll agree she's being ridiculous. His claiming on the argument veto may have just made it a whole lot worse.

Yet her door swings open and she's glaring at him, muttering, "You're an asshole." But she lets him walk back into the room, and he bites his lip at the drenched towels lying beside her possibly ruined equipment. He's sees a lot of grovelling in his near future.

"Please, Bec, let me help." He goes to grab a towel, to help in any way he can, but she slaps his hand away and keeps her head down as she mops up. When she tips the board, whisky drips out and with every drop Jesse feels more and more helpless.

"How badly have I screwed up?" he asks quietly, perching awkwardly on the edge of her bed. She leans against her desk, her shoulders hunched, and they begin to shake slightly. Realising she's crying, he rises to try and comfort her, and when he puts his arms around her waist she doesn't push him away. His chest presses to her back as her palms press to his wrists. Moving her hair with his chin, he presses a kiss to her pulse point and lets her take calming breaths.

"If I say something ridiculous," she whispers, "will you please try not to laugh?"

"Depends how ridiculous it is." She squeezes his wrist and he chuckles. "Of course, Beca. You can tell me anything."

Her temple rests against his cheek as she speaks softly. "I'm not mad because you ruined something I worked an entire year to raise the money for." She pauses, and he gets the feeling the ridiculous bit is yet to come. "I'm mad at myself because it just feels like a giant, horrible metaphor."

He stills for a moment too long because she twists in his arms, her eyes searching his face. "Say something," she pleads, pressing a fingertip to the crease between his eyebrows. It relaxes some under her touch.

"What do you mean?" he puzzles.

"I mean that…" Her eyes shine with tears and he pulls her to the bed, clutching her hands as she takes a minute to compose herself. "I worked so hard for that thing, and then you came along and spilt whisky on it and now I don't know what to do."

Realisation dawns on him and he pales a little. "Oh."

"No, Jesse, don't think that I-"

"You mean it's a metaphor for how you worked so hard towards your dream, and then you met me and I ruined it." His grasp loosens on her hand and she grabs it back, trying desperately to make him see her perspective.

"No, Jesse, no that's not it. I mean, it is a little but no, you need to listen to me." Her palms are hot on his jaw and he can't look away from her intense gaze. "I didn't factor you into my plan. I didn't factor loving you into my plan."

He stiffens when she says love, because she so rarely says it.

"My plan was to leave high school and go to LA. Then my dad basically blackmailed me into college. So then the plan was college, then LA. That plan was all I needed. All I thought I needed." Her eyes soften and her thumb brushes against his cheek bone. "Music isn't all I need anymore."

"Bec," he whispers, but he doesn't know what to say, so he wraps a hand around one wrist, nodding to let her continue.

"You came into my life and now my plan isn't that clear anymore. We're graduating, Jesse. We're leaving Barden in what, three, four months? And everything is going to change."

"Everything but us," he says fiercely, but she still seems doubtful. She's always been the more practical one, the more realistic one, and he appreciates that she's thought about it. She's considered their future enough to worry that it'll tear them apart, but that worry means she cares. That she doesn't want it to. She wants them to make it through the changes together.

"Oh God, Jesse," she sighs sadly as she rests her forehead against his. "What have you done to me?"

"Ditto." Her eyes are closed and he wishes he could see them, to know how she's feeling.

"You ruined my plan," she groans, but there's a small smile lighting up her face that he kisses gently. "You ruined my mixer."

"It's okay," he says with a smile. "We can fix it."

She glances at him in a way that silently asks which one he means. Pulling her close, he answers her with a simple kiss. It turns into two, which become drawn out and passionate and he can never seem to get over how Beca's hands can be everywhere at once.

"Jesse," she whispers into his neck after a few minutes spent wrapped up in him, "I know how to fix my plan."

Too distracted by kissing along her collarbone, he just hums his encouragement into the bone, making her gasp as it tickles her.

"By putting it together with yours."

He freezes at her shoulder and she barely breathes, waiting for him to react in some way. Slowly his head raises, and Jesse is watching her in quiet disbelief. Did she just say what he thought she said? "I'm sorry repeat that."

She rolls her eyes but this time when she says it, there's a nervous smile flitting across her face. "I can fix my plan by scraping it and instead making one with you." The room is perfectly quiet for a beat, and she adds, "If you want to, that is."

"Well of course I want to," he laughs breathlessly, hovering over her still. "I just… I didn't know if you were ready for that."

She shakes her head. "I'm not, but I might be. When we graduate and I suddenly don't have my annoying man child of a boyfriend there with me."

He swallows thickly because this day has been full of surprise after surprise and he doesn't know if he's processing it all right. "You do know what you're saying right?"

She bites her lip as she nods. "That I want to live in LA. With you."

"In the same apartment." His lip twitches like he's about to smile and she places a kiss on that corner of his mouth.

"With the same bed."

A pause.

"Sharing the same space."

"We basically do that now anyway."

He still looks astounded and she runs a thumb across his lips. She's surprisingly calm and he wonders if she had more of that whisky that he remembers her having. "You're being serious right?"

"Deadly."

"Beca, I…" Ever so slowly, a grin grows on his face. He can't believe she's saying this. How did they go from making out to arguing to moving in together in the space of an hour? "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

She bites her lip as she smiles, her nose crinkling in that way he loves when she gets excited. "Is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?" he teases, and she rolls her eyes because she knows he isn't going to relent until she says it.

"The plan."

"What plan?"

"Our plan."

"Our plan to what?"

She groans and presses her face into his neck so hard that when she speaks, her voice is muffled. "Jesse Swanson, will you move to LA with me?"

His lips are on hers in seconds and he swears there are fireworks bursting from it. Her body raises to meet his and one of her hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other stroking slowly down his side. He groans as she pulls away, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Beca Mitchell, it would be my absolute honour." He grins again and she grins back breathlessly, her hair tousled around her head on the sheets. The hand trailing down his side has reached the waistband of his jeans and she trails it around slowly until it teases the skin below his belly button.

"You know," she breathes against his ear as she raises her head. "I'm thinking we should spend this evening in bed." Her lips graze over that spot behind his ear and he groans quietly. "And maybe some of tomorrow."

His breathing stutters but he manages to make out a strangled, "Sounds perfect."

Those are the last coherent words they both manage to say for quite a while.


I don't know how this one happened honestly. It is meant to be based off a prompt from Bonechick3 (Thanks mucho for it by the way, it was such fun to write!) and suddenly it morphed into this, but I actually quite like it, I think it's cute and I don't know, yeah it just happened.

Also, I know the day will have passed, but I still have some prompts left and the epilogue thing people have been demanding for JAGTJ Valentine's. So I'll still be updating this as I make my way through but I might not update for about a week as I have a lot of stuff going on this weekend. However, if there is anything else you'd like to see, or any prompt words or something, then PM me or review and let me know! I will get them all done best I can.

Thanks for reading, and let me know what you thought!