There have been a few requests for a smut story and a Valentine's Day story so I decided to combine the two. I woke up ridiculously early this morning because my dog had to go out and I couldn't get back to sleep so I hope this makes some sense.

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Daryl stared at the bucket of flowers in front of him and all he could do was scowl. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. He had had absolutely no plans on doing this. When they had gone through this day last year, they had just been sleeping together and sneaking around and he had been so busy telling himself that there was nothing else between them, he had done everything he could to ignore the basic instincts inside of himself and pretend that there were no signs between them to read.

She had come over on the fourteenth and she had gone to some grocery store with her friend from college, Sasha, that he had never heard of before. Whole Foods or something like that in Atlanta and she had then come to his house and made them a dinner of pan-seared pork chops and roasted Brussels sprouts. He had asked her what the occasion was but she had just smiled and shrugged and said that she was in a cooking mood. And after they had washed the dishes together, he had guided her into the bedroom and they had had sex a couple of times. That was what he told himself it was. Sex. Just sex. And he had gotten pretty damn good at making it good for her. At least, he liked to think he did. He could sure as hell make her scream and he was taking that as a pretty good indicator.

He still didn't get it as to why Beth seemed always so damn eager to spread legs for him but he knew he liked it and she obviously liked it so he wasn't going to stop it.

It was only until he went to work the next day and saw the calendar on Dale's desk that showed the date. February 15th. The day before was February 14th. Fucking Valentine's Day and he hadn't known and Beth hadn't said a single word about it.

He spent most of the day, trying to work and wondering if he should mention it to her; should do something special for her but he remembered who he was and Beth knew damn well who he was and if she wanted a guy who would do something sweet for her on Valentine's Day and not just fuck her a few times in his bed with no other romance to it, then she was definitely spreading her legs for the wrong guy.

And then he spent the rest of the day feeling like shit because he couldn't be that guy for her and Beth Greene deserved to have nothing less than a guy who would get her dozens of roses and light candles all over the place and make gentle love to her. He knew he could never be that guy for her.

He wound up not mentioning it to her and Beth didn't say anything about it either.

For their next Valentine's Day, they were married and Daryl had thought that it would just be another nothing day for them. Beth hadn't mentioned doing anything special and if she wasn't saying she wanted anything in particular then Daryl knew that she probably didn't care either. If Beth wanted something, she had learned that she had to tell him straight out. It didn't matter how long they had been together now. He wasn't a damn mind reader.

But he had been listening to the other guys in the garage all day. Martinez and Oscar both talking about what they were doing that night after work – Martinez with his wife and Oscar with his baby's mama. Daryl was frowning to himself as he heard their plans. Flowers and boxes of chocolates and reservations at restaurants. There town had barely two-thousand people in it. They needed reservations?

His frown grew heavier when Martinez then called out to him, asking him what he had planned for his little lady for tonight.

Daryl just looked at him.

Martinez was his closest friend. He, oddly enough, found himself also beginning to build a friendship with Rick Grimes, the fucking Sherriff of all people but he held Beth directly responsible for that one; as if she was starting to make the Dixon name somewhat respectable or something.

He wasn't sure what it was that he and Martinez had in common besides working on cars in the same auto garage but they often took their lunch breaks together and Martinez talked to him about things going on in his life and in return, Daryl found himself beginning to go him about certain things since he had married Beth. Had even gone to him a few months ago – or rather Martinez had come to him because everyone had known he was pissed off about something – about a problem he was having in regards to Beth and their bed and Martinez had helped him out. Really helped him out. So much so that Beth wanted to bake him cookies but Daryl had refused to bring him anything even if he had given him some great pointers on how to go down on his wife.

"You are doing something for Beth. Right, Dixon?" Martinez asked, able to read Daryl even though his face was blank. "This day is probably more important to women than birthdays. Though that day is always super important, too. And anniversary. Never forget your anniversary."

"Beth didn' mention anything 'bout today," Daryl heard himself grunt.

"Of course she didn't," Oscar spoke up. "That's how women work when it comes to this day. They expect you to do everything while they don't tell you a damn thing."

Daryl felt himself frowning. Is that what Beth was doing? Not mentioning it but still expecting something? No. Beth wasn't like that. Especially over some stupid day that didn't mean anything and it sure as hell wasn't a holiday.

But it pounded in his head the rest of the day and when the garage closed for the day, he found himself driving towards the grocery store rather than heading home. Beth had driven herself to work that morning, needing to get in earlier than usual since Valentine's Day was a big day at the daycare center. Lots of crafts and a special lunch and a concert in the afternoon of the kids singing love songs from another era.

He scratched the back of his head as he walked through the automatic doors and headed towards the flower section. It was pretty picked over and the buckets seemed to have only roses and carnations left. He frowned the longer he looked. He loved Beth but spending thirty bucks on a dozen roses that were going to be dead within a few days was fucking asinine to him. But would Beth want roses? He thought of the year before and he reminded himself now, again, that he wasn't the guy to buy roses and sprinkle the fucking petals all over the bed for her.

And Beth knew that. She had to know that about him.

He looked at the carnations. There was a bouquet of pink, white and red ones and they obviously weren't roses but they seemed almost kind of nice. And they were only eight bucks. Not that he was putting a price tag on Beth but these were just flowers. They didn't mean anything. They would be dead in a few days, tossed away in the trash and that wasn't exactly what he wanted to think of when he thought of what him and Beth had. Cheap and used up, dead and thrown away. That wasn't what he and Beth had and he found himself cursing this fucking day all over again.

She was home when he got home, her car pulled in front of the house, lights on inside. He could hear soft music as he neared the porch. She had recently found an old record player at the thrift store as well as some old records and she had gasped with excitement, fingers practically trembling as she looked carefully through the collection in the milk crate but she hadn't made a move to grab either of them and Daryl knew she wouldn't. So when she was off, looking for some sweaters, he took the record player and the crate of records and put it all in their cart and when she returned and saw it, she had opened her mouth as if to protest but Daryl just looked at her and she didn't give rise to an argument.

"I won't ask for anything for Christmas," was all she said and he smirked a little.

She was playing an old Emmylou Harris record tonight and he saw her in the kitchen, singing along to "Tulsa Queen" as she was cutting carrots up on the cutting board at the counter. She turned when she heard him and she burst into a smile like she did every time she saw him; as if they had gone years without seeing one another and were reunited once again.

"Hey, you," she smiled and wiped her hands on the dishtowel before crossing the room to him. She stood on her toes and looped her arms around his neck and she kissed him. Daryl only had one hand free at the moment and he lifted it to cup the back of her head, pressing his lips back to hers. "I was wondering where you were. Was the garage really busy today?"

"Nah, just had to stop and get somethin'," he said and then awkwardly held up the plastic shopping bag. "Here." He all but thrust it at her.

Beth saw the bouquet of carnations poking out from the top and she carefully lifted them out, immediately bringing them to her nose to inhale the scent before she pulled them back to look at them a bit more closely. She then looked at him with her brow slightly furrowed.

"They ain't roses," he then felt the need to tell her though she could clearly see that for herself and he felt like a damn imbecile.

"They're beautiful," she said softly, looking back to them for a moment.

He watched her standing in the warm light coming from the lamps in the living room. She had worn a festive red dress for work that day and her hair was down and soft around her face and she had already washed all of her make up and he preferred her face bare like this so much more though he would never tell her that.

She looked beautiful and she was a girl who deserved roses.

He really hated this fucking day.

"Thank you," she said, almost whispering now, and she rose on her toes again, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "You did not have to do this though, Daryl. I didn't want anything..."

"The guys in the garage said you would say that and that I shouldn't believe you."

That made her raise an eyebrow and her lips quirked into a smile. "Believing Martinez and Oscar over the woman you married?"

He couldn't help but smirk because that was exactly what he had done. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah…" he said almost reluctantly.

"It's just another day," she said, her voice soft again. "I love you on February 13th and you bet your butt I'm going to love you on February 15th. I don't need a day picked out for me to tell you I love you."

He blinked at her. Damn it, he swore to himself. He really wished he had thought of that. Of course that would be Beth's thought on the day.

She gave him a small smile. "The flowers are beautiful though and I love them so much. Thank you," she said again.

"There's somethin' else," he muttered, feeling the back of his neck flush with heat.

She shifted the flowers into the crook of her arm and reached into the shopping bag for the other item. She pulled it out and her smile grew. It was a small white teddy bear wearing a red bowtie. He saw her face melt and she looked at him. She suddenly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. Hard and hungry and it threw him off for a moment because she hadn't acted like this over flowers but over a small cheap stuffed animal? He really didn't understand women ever after being married to one for a while.

But then he figured he would never understand and there was no point in trying and he finally reacted to her mouth against his. He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her body against his, and she moaned softly against his. His tongue thrust slowly between her lips and she moaned again into his mouth as his tongue began to gently tangle with hers.

"Daryl Dixon, we are going to bed right now. Or the couch. Or the floor. I don't care," she panted a bit breathlessly and the corner of mouth twitched.

"Do teddy bears turn you on?" He then felt the need to ask.

"No one's ever given me a stuffed animal before," she admitted and her cheeks were flushed – a mixture of being turned on and now a little embarrassed. "I've always wanted a boy to give me a silly stuffed animal like this. But now, I have a man I'm married to. My husband. And you gave me the one thing I've always wanted."

Daryl blinked at her, finding no words even forming of possible responses he could give to that. All of this time, that was all she wanted? A silly little stuffed thing that he had grabbed at the last moment, thinking Beth would probably find it cute? After all of the racking he had put his brain through – not just today but every day since she came into his life – this was all she wanted? It couldn't be that easy.

But he looked at Beth and the darkness in her eyes and the hardness of her nipples through her dress and he knew if he reached up right now and felt between her thighs, he would feel how wet she was and all because of some damn stuffed bear. Maybe it was that easy. And maybe it made perfect sense. Beth told him time and time again that she didn't need anything. She just needed him and their house and this life they were building together. She didn't need roses or boxes of chocolates. Not on February 14th or any other damn day of the year.

She just needed – and wanted – this. He really had to start remembering that.

Beth gasped with surprise when Daryl suddenly swept her up in his arms, carrying her the same way he had that night they had gotten married and she laughed then as he walked into their bedroom. She was still holding the flowers and the bear and plastic bag and those things all found their way to the floor as Daryl dropped Beth gently onto the bed. She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and pulled him over her as if she was expecting him to leave and their mouths met again, his body sinking on top of hers. Mouths opened and tongues met again and he swept his hand down the side of her body, his thumb swiping a few times over her hard nipple, making her arch her back in response, and then he continued it further south.

He was right. When he swept a hand up under her dress and slipped it between her thighs, he nearly groaned when he touched her and felt how fucking soaked she was through her underwear. Beth gasped his name and pressed herself against him. He kissed her – harder than the others – and he began rubbing her with his fingers, listening to her moan and feeling her hips beginning to move in response.

He then moved quickly – as if they hadn't the time though they had all night together – and he pushed her dress above her hips as he then slid down her body, his knees finding the floor and his fingers curling around her underwear as he went, pulling them down her legs and tossing them away somewhere in the room.

He couldn't figure out why it had taken him so long to do this for her but the first time he put his mouth on Beth a couple of months after they were married, he had become instantly addicted, like taking a hit of a drug for a first time and becoming a full-blown junkie right then and there. He felt like he could spend hours with his face between her thighs, feeling her thighs against his ears, her fingers in his hair, hearing her moans and gasps as he licked and sucked and ate her out like a man starving. She came and then came again but he didn't stop until she was yanking his hair and practically sobbing his name.

He stood up then and began to undress himself, looking down at her, flushed and splayed boneless across their bed. He stopped her though when he saw her fingers going for the zipper of her dress.

"Don't," he shook his head and then his naked body was on top of hers. "Want you to keep it on," he said and the tips of his ears felt warm but Beth just looked up at him and a moment later, she smiled.

He pushed the dress higher above her waist and then he was pushing inside of her, watching the ways her eyes fluttered the way they always did when he entered her. She was so tight and so wet and she squeezed him as if she wanted to snap his dick off and he was thick, filling her completely, both of them letting out moans at the fit.

He took his time, his thrusts slow and deep, and her moans and fingers on his back only pushed him to make this the best damn sex she had ever had because even though they clearly didn't care what date it was, deep down, he was married to the sort of woman who just wanted a used record player and a cheap teddy bear and she was happy. She deserved to have a husband who gave her the best sex.

And the way Beth moaned his name and lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, Daryl knew he was probably doing a good job of that.

When she shattered for the third time that night, she brought him with her and he shook on top of her, gritting his teeth together, shuddering as he emptied inside of her. He laid on top of her, the cotton of her dress soft against his chest, her nipples still hard beneath, and he closed his eyes, listening to her soft panting in his ear.

"I changed my mind," she whispered to him then, her lips curled into a small smile against the side of his neck. "You have officially made me a fan of Valentine's Day. I already can't wait for next year."

He let out a huff of breath, a mix between a laugh and a groan. He may have just fucked Beth but Daryl was feeling like he had just fucked himself, too.

…

Thank you very much for reading and please review!