#twd cdc

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”

All you had ever known were the walls and corridors of the Atlanta centre for disease control. You had never felt the warmth of sun against your skin. You had never smelt the summer breeze that carried the fragrance of blooming flowers. Led lights that hummed at every waking hour was all you knew. Because you, were a succubus. A vampire. Created by disease riddled blood that was centuries old you were cursed with this sickness from the moment you were born. An insatiable quench for blood had consumed you for decades.

You were raised in the Atlanta CDC, and you were given the best education anyone could have received. Initially you were fed a carnivorous diet as the head scientist believed it may have been enough to quench your thirst for blood. And for the first few years of your life, it did, but as you grew you became malnourished and the only thing that kept you healthy was blood. As you reached adulthood the tests became more invasive and higher in risk. Jenner – the leading scientist on your case – would feed you diseased blood to see if your body could conquer the illnesses.

Hepatitis, Malaria, Bubonic plage, Syphilis, every disease they had in the lab was fed to you. Fed to you to see if you would survive and every single time, the sickness never even affected you. You never experienced a single symptom, so that’s when Jenner had created his own disease. A disease that was never meant to make it out of the lab and was strictly designed to create a counter vaccine. But not even Jenner could have predicted the outcome of his little experiment. Jenner had created an airborne disease that would wipe out ninety percent of the world’s population in a matter of weeks.

Two months later and any last hope of a government or civilisation being restored, you and Jenner were the only ones left at the CDC and much to his discomfort, Jenner had given you some freedom within the last few weeks as his psyche began to dissipate. During the days Jenner would mindlessly work to find a cure for his own creation you would roam the halls of the CDC, exploring rooms and corridors you had never seen before. In the last few days Jenner had been especially on edge as the oxygen and energy supply was beginning to run out and it would be a matter of days until the generators finally shut down.

Most nights you found yourself roaming in the foyer of the entrance to the CDC wishing you could see the soft glow of the moon but when your routine had become interrupted by an alarm sounding and Jenner running out from elevator.

“Get back!” Jenner demanded, firmly holding onto a shotgun you had never seen before.

“What’s happening?” You shouted, making sure Jenner could hear you over the loud ringing alarm.

But before he could answer, the doors began to open, and the smell of the outside world rushed in. The death and decay from the dying outside world burnt the inside of your nose and hit the back of your throat. After a moment, your eyes landed on the group of survivors. Their clothes tattered and covered in filth.

“Anybody infected?” Jenner demanded, his voice deep and stern and he pointed the gun in the direction of the survivors.

A man stepped forward, wearing a sherifs uniform that was a mix of beige and brown. He looked tired but remained calm as he answered Jenners question. “One of our group was. He didn’t make it.” He answered truthfully, his southern twang piquing your interest as everyone at the lab was typically from the city.  

“Why are you here?” Jenner asked, his questions cold and lacking in any sympathy. “What do you want?” He continued, slightly lowering his weapon as he had finally noticed the two children they were travelling with.

The rise and fall of the survivors’ chests stirred something electric in your core. You couldn't tell if it was the scent of their freshly oxygenated blood, or something deeper, more primal. But all these new bodies made your heart race.

“A chance.” The sheriff pleaded, his arm wrapping around the small child behind him.

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.” Jenner quipped, briefly looking over to you before looking back at the survivors.

The sheriff looked at you with desperation in his eyes and just slightly you had noticed a shift in his eyes as they looked you up and down. “I know.” He spoke softly, his eyes not breaking from yours.

Jenner completely lowered his gun. “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”

Blood. Jenner knew you had been growing hungry as the blood supply was beginning to run low, but he also knew this would be an opportunity for you to feed. Despite the constant testing over the decades, Jenner had grown attached to you, and despite your nature and his job on rare occasions he’d treat you like his child. And with less then a week of air and electricity left, he felt accomplished to give you one last feed.

“We can do that.” The man agreed, looking back at his people as they nodded, eager to get into safety.

“You got stuff to bring in, you for it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.” Jenner spoke grimly, his words ringing a deeper level of truth that the survivors did not understand as they grabbed their things in a panic and made their way inside.  

As Vi – Jenner’s AI he had designed a few years ago – sealed the doors you followed Jenner like a shadow as you and the survivors all piled into the elevator. Introductions were made in the short elevator ride down to the fifth floor. The floor you were most familiar with. As Jenner took their blood for ‘testing’ you lingered in the shadows, watching how they all interacted with each other, but one survivor kept catching your eye. Rick Grimes. A single father to Carl – one of the young children amongst the group – and a divorcee of Lori.

You had quickly picked up on each dynamic in the group as everyone around you ate their first meal in days. Shane – Ricks friend before the fall of humankind – and Lori seemed to be flirtatious with each other, especially as the bottle of red wine got passed around the table. You and noticed Rick intentionally avoiding their conversation. That’s when you noticed him starring at you.

“What’s your name?” Rick asked, eating a small spoonful of food before putting down his utensil. “I didn’t quite catch it earlier.” His southern drawl smooth and inviting.

“y/n.” you sweetly replied, the smell of his blood on the tip of our tongue as you leant in closer to him.

Rick smiled, taking his glass of wine and taking in a sip. “How do you know Jenner?” He asked, turning his body towards yours.

“He’s, my father.” You lied. Smiling to hide your truth, you extended your hand to touch Rick’s knee. “Steph-father, I know we look nothing alike.” You giggled, hoping it would be enough to convince Rick.

The touch of our cool skin against Ricks denim jeans sent electricity up your fingertips. For the first time you had been allowed to drink wine, and its effects were hitting you harder than you had expected. Rick had also noticed the effects of the wine beginning to take effect after having little to no food for the past few days, it hit him quicker then he had expected.

“You certainly do not.” He glanced down at your hand, then back into your eyes, lingering there. He’d never seen eyes that dark before—haunting, magnetic. You stirred something in him, something he hadn’t felt in years. It was raw, instinctive… primal.

Rick’s jaw flexed as your fingers drifted lightly over the denim of his jeans, the touch subtle but impossible to ignore. He didn’t shift away—just watched you with that guarded, unreadable stare, the kind that made it hard to tell whether he was curious or cautious.

“I imagine you’re exhausted,” you said, voice soft, almost teasing, as you traced slow, lazy circles against the rough fabric. “Long days. Long… everything.”

Rick gave a quiet hum, lifting his glass but not drinking from it. “Yeah. Something like that.” His voice was low, rough around the edges—like gravel in warm honey. He turned slightly, angling his body toward yours, but his posture stayed tight, alert. Controlled.

You smiled, resting your elbow against the table. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly a little bit of wine helps you relax.”

He studied you then—really studied you. His eyes lingered on your mouth for half a second too long before flicking back to your eyes. “We just met,” he said, a quiet reminder. But it wasn’t a dismissal. If anything, it sounded like a question.

“I know,” you said, tilting your head.

Rick didn’t answer right away. The silence between you stretched, thick and humming with something unspoken. You were both strangers, sitting too close, saying too little—and yet, everything in his body language said he felt it too. The pull. The tension. The temptation.

Finally, he let out a slow breath and set his glass down.

“You always touch people you just met like that?” he asked, his tone careful—measured—but his eyes flickered with something darker.

You gave him a slow smile, dragging your fingers back down to your own lap. “Only when I want them to remember me.”

You’d always had a way of luring men in—like a siren cloaked in soft skin and quiet laughter. It wasn’t learned; it was instinct, something ancient woven into your being. Men never saw the danger, not at first. They came willingly, drawn your eyes lingered a second too long, the way your voice curled around their name like silk.

You didn’t need to bare fangs to make them bleed for you. It was easier this way—letting them want you, letting them think it was their idea. By the time they noticed the cold in your touch, the hunger in your gaze, it was already too late. And Rick… Rick smelled like fire and sweat and blood just beneath the surface. Warm, human, pulsing with life. He didn’t know it yet, but he was already sinking. Already yours.

The steam from the showers curled through the corridors, thick and heady, cloaking everything in heat and silence. Laughter echoed in the distance—distant, irrelevant. Your focus was razor-sharp, homed in on Rick. He was all you could think about—he filled your mind, your senses, your need.

He had slipped away to the far end of the showers, choosing the stall most hidden from view, separated from the noise, the others… from temptation. But you were already moving toward him, shedding each piece of clothing with deliberate grace, like a ritual. Every step forward felt heavier, hotter.

Rick tried to steady his thoughts, to tame the fire that had been smouldering inside him since the moment your eyes met hours earlier. He scrubbed at his skin like it would keep his thoughts clean, but when the curtain drew back and you stood there—bare, bold, electric—his restraint shattered.

You slid into the stall and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. Your cool skin met his heat, sending a sharp jolt through both of you. The moment your bodies met, Rick’s breath caught in his throat. His hands hovered at your waist, hesitant for only a second before gripping your hips like he’d been starving for touch.

The water rushed down around you both, hot and relentless, soaking your skin and plastering your hair to your face, but neither of you noticed. All that existed now was the space between heartbeats—and how quickly that space was closing. Your fingers threaded into his damp hair as you tilted your head, lips brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing, testing.

He let out a low groan, deep in his chest, the sound of a man losing a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to win. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, but his hands were already roaming your  back, drawing you closer, his voice laced with a tension that contradicted the words.

You smiled against his skin, pressing a kiss just beneath his jaw. “Then tell me to go.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he captured your mouth with his, rough and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long. The kiss burned—hotter than the water pounding against your shoulders. It was teeth and tongue and need, the kind that couldn’t be reasoned with.

Your back met the cold tile wall, a sharp contrast to the heat between you, and he was on you—every inch of him pressed flush to yours. His hands explored with a hunger that felt dangerous, reverent, like he was memorizing you. Every curve, every gasp, every shiver.

Outside, footsteps passed, muffled voices carried on the steam—but they may as well have been a world away. In here, there was nothing but wet skin, frantic breaths, and the thrum of something inevitable.

Rick pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, water trailing down the angles of his face. His voice was low, wrecked. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

You smirked, brushing your lips against his again. “Then don’t hold back.”

The moment held—suspended like a breath you hadn’t yet taken. The light caught the edge of his jaw, the faint stubble along his cheek, the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat steady and strong. You could hear it clearer than anything else now, thrumming beneath the surface, calling to you like a forgotten melody.

His scent hit you fully then—salt, iron, heat. It filled your lungs, your head. The hunger you’d been keeping down began to rise, slow and deliberate, curling like smoke inside your chest. You shifted subtly closer, your voice dropping just above a whisper.

“You smell… incredible.”

Rick raised an eyebrow, but something in his face tightened. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, your body leaned in, your lips ghosting just beside his ear. The warmth of him soaked into your skin—alive, rich, intoxicating.

“I told you,” You murmured, barely audible. “I only touch the ones I want to remember me.”

Then, with practiced grace, you tilted your head—and moved fast. Your lips brushed his jaw as you shifted lower, fangs descending silently, hunger clawing its way through your throat. But just as your mouth hovered over the thrum of his pulse, Rick’s hand shot up—quick, instinctive—gripping your wrist in a firm, unyielding hold.

You froze, every muscle taut, caught between hunger and caution. His breath hitched—shallow, sharp—but it was his eyes that unsettled you most: sharp, icy, and unreadable, like a hunter sizing up prey that might turn on him.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was low, steady—no fear, only a quiet warning that sent a thrill racing down your spine.

Your fangs hovered just behind parted lips, barely visible in the shadow of your teasing smile, trembling with restrained hunger.

“Trying to remember you,” you whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

Rick held your gaze, unblinking, for a long, heavy moment—time stretching thin between you. Then, slowly, deliberately, he released your wrist, his touch lingering. You didn’t bite him. Not yet. But the hunger pulsed stronger waiting, watching, promising it wouldn’t be long before restraint gave way to necessity.

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