#troy otto x reader

[edgarapoecolouredglasses]

Little mastermind part six

You know the drill

THE GIF IS NOT MINE

Pairing: Troy Otto/Reader

Summary: The clock is ticking and Troy is desperate to protect his people.The only out he can think of is to make an appeal to the mercy of an old friend.

Part: 6/at least 10

Masterlist

——————————————————

Troy sat for hours, wracking his brain, staring at the maps scattered across the desk, trying to think of a way to keep his community safe. It wasn’t just a group anymore—it had grown into something bigger, something more meaningful. A real community.

He glanced out of the study’s window to the scene below: people doing laundry, others cooking outside, always making something out of nothing, every single day, despite how low the supplies were running.

The children ran around, laughing as they played, while some of the teenagers sat in a corner, passing around old comics.

Guards stood on the perimeter, men and women who had willingly taken up the responsibility of protecting everyone inside.

His gaze drifted over to the makeshift hospital room they’d set up in one of the rooms. He hadn’t seen Tracy with the other kids, which meant she was probably in there, talking Y/N’s ear off like usual. Trying to help

He smiled to himself, the brief thought easing some of the weight on his shoulders. His girls.

But then his eyes caught movement in the woods beyond the fence. A guard quickly took care of a small group of walkers, and Troy’s smile faded.

They couldn’t stay here forever. The supplies around the compound were thinning out, the walkers kept coming, and even though everyone was holding on, he needed to find somewhere they wouldn’t have to constantly look over their shoulders, wondering if the next day would be the one they lost it all.

As he stared down at the map again, his head lifted when the static of the radio filled the room.

Another broadcast from PADRE rang out through the crackling noise.

“If you lost your child or think that they might have been taken, come to the following coordinates…”

Troy reached over and turned down the volume, sighing heavily as the message played on.

It was the same voice, Madison’s voice, that he had heard when he first arrived at this compound. When he heard it for the first time, something had ignited in him. Years of rage, of anger, of grief that he thought he’d buried, all came roaring back at the sound of her voice.

He had wanted revenge. Needed it, even. After everything that had happened, after what she had taken from him, the idea of her being out there, still breathing, still talking, made his blood boil.

But now, weeks later, with the community growing and his responsibilities piling up, that desire for vengeance had dulled. Not because he didn’t want it anymore—he did—but because there were other things pulling at him. Things more important than settling old scores. Tracy. The people here. Y/n.

He rubbed his temples, the weight of it all pressing down on him again. His focus needed to be here. On them. Not on the past.

The radio message faded into static, and Troy switched it off completely. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment, wondering how long they could really keep going like this. How long until something gave?

He stood up, pacing the room, the tension building inside him again. There were decisions to make—ones that would affect everyone here. Ones that could either save them or destroy everything they’d built. He couldn’t afford to make the wrong choice, not now.

Troy glanced back out the window at the people below, the kids laughing, the adults working together. They were counting on him.

————————————————

A week passed, and everything seemed to be moving at a whirlwind pace. More survivors had come to us, and among them, there was a couple—doctors. Actual doctors! When I first heard about it, I nearly burst into tears from relief. It felt like a miracle, like we had finally caught a break.

Up until then, I had been living on a prayer, doing everything I could with whatever knowledge I had. Guesswork. That’s what it had been. If someone got an infection, I hoped I had enough antibiotics or herbal remedies to treat it. Heart problems? That was another beast entirely. I did what I could with the knowledge I had gathered over the years, but I knew it wasn’t enough. And every time someone came into the med bay, a part of me feared that it would be something I couldn’t fix.

But now, with real doctors, it was different. I worked closely with them. They were patient, showing me things I hadn’t known—how amputate a gangrenous limb, how to handle certain illnesses I’d only ever read about. It was like a weight was slowly being lifted off my shoulders. We finally had real medical expertise on our side, and it was one less thing to worry about.

We had also moved to a new building—a place that, for now, felt safer than where we were. An old library, dusty and worn, but with sturdy walls and enough room for everyone to have a bit more space. It felt strange, though, living among all the abandoned books, as if we had found refuge in the remnants of a world that no longer existed. It was depressing and made me hopeful at the same time.

But even here, I knew it wouldn’t last long. It couldn’t. The building was secure, but our food supply wasn’t. There wasn’t enough land nearby to grow our own, and the scavenging teams were coming back with less and less every day. It was only a matter of time before we’d have to move again.

I was deep into a book on radiation treatment, trying to soak in every detail, when I heard footsteps approach. Looking up, I saw Troy standing there, an unusual expression on his face—almost as if he was hesitant.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Are you up for an errand?”

I raised an eyebrow, immediately cautious. “What kind of errand?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes held mine, and for the first time in a long while, I saw something almost…pleading in his gaze. Something was off.

But instead of pushing for more details, I closed the book and stood up. “Okay,” I said, my voice soft but certain. I would be wherever he needed me to be. I always had been.

Without another word, Troy nodded and hurried off to grab Tracy. I gathered my gear quickly, slipping on my jacket and checking my weapons. Whatever this was, it didn’t feel like a simple supply run.

We left the library in the biggest, sturdiest vehicle we had—an absolute tank of a car that had been patched up more times than I could count, but it still ran.

Tracy sat between us in the front seat, unusually quiet, her small fingers tracing the outline of the map spread across her lap.

The silence in the car was thick. I kept glancing over at Troy, trying to read him. There was something he wasn’t saying, and it gnawed at me. I opened my mouth to ask again, but then caught his gaze, and the words died in my throat.

Whatever we were headed for, it was important. And he needed me to trust him.

Troy spoke suddenly, breaking the tense silence without looking away from the road. “I’ve been hearing Madison on the radio.”

I blinked in surprise, turning to look at him. My first instinct was disbelief, and I didn’t bother hiding it. “Madison? As in the Madison.. Madison Clark?” I stared at him for a few seconds, then, half-joking and half-serious, I reached over and placed my hand on his forehead, checking for a fever. “You feeling alright? You sure it’s not a hallucination?”

Troy tensed, clearly not in the mood for jokes, and shooed my hand away with an irritated sigh. “Stop.”

When we had a very random and brief encounter with Alicia, which ultimately caused Serena’s death, she seemed pretty sure that her mom was dead. And that was years ago, so pardon me if I felt like Troy bust have been seeing things.

Tracy, giggling beside me, mimicked my movement, reaching up to put her tiny hand on his forehead too. Troy quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, his tone sharp. “Tracy, please,” he said in that serious, annoyed voice I’d rarely ever heard him use with her.

Tracy was treated like an absolute princess by him. Tracy asked Tracy got, as far as it was possible in this new world. When she was told no, it was always gentle, with a lengthy explanation of why she couldn’t get what she wanted.

The only times I’d ever seen Troy use his strict dad voice like this, it was either because he was very stressed or on edge, or when she had put herself in danger and he was so worried that it turned into anger. It caught me off guard, and I immediately stopped playing around.

Troy glanced down at Tracy with a brief, guilty smile, as if to apologize for his tone.

He was more tense than I had realized. This wasn’t just some passing comment about a radio broadcast; this was something weighing heavily on him. He finally exhaled and continued, “I’ve been hearing Madison… took over PADRE. It’s this organization… you’ve heard of it from those new people, right?”

PADRE—the stories we’d heard about them were grim, nothing good. I didn’t know much, but what I did know made my skin crawl. Children, ripped from their families and molded into soldiers? My thoughts raced, but Troy’s voice brought me back.

“She gave coordinates in the broadcast,” he continued, his voice quieter, more reflective. “For parents to come find PADRE. Look for their kids.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in the car like a lead blanket. What was he thinking? What was this errand really about?

Troy paused for a moment before adding, almost too quietly, “The place seems… safe.”

Safe.

I glanced over at him, searching for more than what he was saying, but his face was unreadable, eyes fixed on the road. The wheels in my mind started spinning faster. Safe. In a world like this, what did safe even mean anymore? And why was Troy—who never trusted anything easily—considering it?

“What are you thinking, Troy?” I asked, my voice soft but filled with concern. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I needed to hear it anyway.

Troy’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the worn leather. He exhaled deeply before speaking, as though admitting his plan out loud made it more real. “I’ve been thinking of going there.”

“To PADRE?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat. “Troy, what—”

“I’d have to swallow my pride,” he interrupted, his voice flat, but I could sense the weight of those words. “What she did to me was… unforgivable. You know that. I hated her for it. Still do.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “But I’ve got more people to think about than just myself now.”

I blinked, my heart pounding. This was a side of Troy I rarely saw—the one that wrestled with something more than survival. His eyes remained focused on the road, but I could tell this wasn’t easy for him to admit.

“If swallowing my pride gives us any chance of a safe place for this community… for you, for Tracy,” he continued, his voice lowering, “then I’ll gladly do it.”

I stared at him, trying to piece together the full picture. “Why do you need us to come?” I asked, my heart sinking as it confirmed this wasn’t just some regular errand.

Troy sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before speaking. “I’m hoping she won’t kill me on the spot.”

“What?” The word tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Troy—”

“She has no reason to let me live after everything that happened at the dam,” he said, cutting me off again. “I need her, not the other way around. There’s nothing in it for her to keep me alive, except maybe the goodness of her heart—and I’m not sure how much of that she’s got left.”

The weight of his words pressed down on me. I knew about the dam. I knew what had happened between them, even if Troy hadn’t shared every detail. Madison had done something unforgivable, and Troy wasn’t one to forget easily.

“Then why… why bring us?” I asked, my voice trembling with worry.

“She knows you,” Troy said quietly. “You two parted ways on good terms—before you knew what she’d done to me. She definitely won’t hurt you. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

I shook my head slightly, trying to wrap my mind around it all. “And Tracy?”

Troy’s eyes flickered toward the backseat, where Tracy sat quietly, unaware of the gravity of the conversation. “I brought her to show that I’m not a threat. That I won’t try anything. I need her to see that I’m trying to protect my daughter now. Maybe if Madison sees my family... I was reckless at the ranch, I know that I was a danger. I had nothing to lose, my father was dead, my brother had chosen Alicia over me. I was alone, and that revenge felt justified.”

The car felt smaller with the weight of his words. His eyes found mine again, softer now, but filled with an apology that neither of us had ever fully addressed. But, maybe we should have talked it over one of these days.

He remembered, just like I did, that I had been at the ranch too when he unleashed his reckless fury. Back then, I was just another casualty of that herd made of his grief and rage.

“I didn’t care what happened to anyone,” His voice cracked slightly. “But now… it’s different. There’s Tracy and if we want any chance of Madison letting us in, she needs to see Tracy.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with uncertainty. I looked at Troy, my chest tightening with a mixture of fear and understanding.

He was risking everything—not just his pride, but his life—for the chance to secure a future for all of us. And even though I hated the idea of facing Madison, I couldn’t help but feel the same sense of hope Troy was clinging to.

“Troy…” I started, my voice soft, unsure of what to say.

But he just shook his head, his eyes hard as he looked back to the road. “We have to try.”

As they drove, the coordinates on the map became more and more confusing. The further we ventured, the more the land seemed to narrow, and soon we were staring at a stretch of water that separated us from their destination.

Troy slammed the car door, stepping out to look at the map again, disbelief etched across his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

I followed him out, glancing over his shoulder. The coordinates pointed to a small dot on the other side of the water. “Is that… an island?”

“Looks like it.” Troy ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “No wonder we couldn’t get there by road. They’re on an island.”

I squinted across the water, the outline of the distant land barely visible. “How are we supposed to get over there?”

Troy didn’t answer at first, his gaze scanning the shoreline. After a moment, he turned, his eyes landing on something half-buried in the sand at the water’s edge. “Hold on,” he said, already moving towards it.

I followed him, watching as he knelt down beside what looked like the wreckage of an old speedboat. The metal was rusted, the frame battered by weeks, maybe months of neglect, but Troy’s eyes lit up with a spark of determination.

“Think this can still work?” I asked, doubting it could float, much less get them across.

Troy didn’t respond immediately, his hands already inspecting the boat, checking the engine. There was still fuel in there that didn’t seem to be more than a few months old “It’s going to need some work… but yeah, I can fix it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? This thing looks like it’s been sitting here for years.”

Troy gave a dry laugh, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Months, it’s worse off because of the humidity. And you’d be surprised what I can get to work when I don’t have a choice.” He pulled out a toolbox from the boat car, setting it down beside him. “Besides, I’ve fixed worse.”

I watched him as he started tinkering with the engine, loosening bolts and replacing parts with scraps he’d salvaged. It was strange seeing him like this — calm, focused, in his element.

After a while, he glanced up at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “You know, when I was in my teens, before the militia, my father used to make me work on tractors and cars after I got kicked out of school.”

I blinked in surprise. Troy never talked about his past anymore, let alone his father. The image of Jeremiah’s face, drained of blood and hollow after he shot himself still sent shivers down my spine.

“Yeah?” I prompted, leaning against the side of the boat.

“Yeah.” He kept working as he spoke, his tone casual but with a hint of bitterness. “He told me that if I couldn’t get my brain to work, ‘I better get those damn engines to work’” he said, mimicking his fathers voice, as far as he could still remember it. “I could at least be useful around the ranch. So, while my brother was off at college getting praised for being the ‘smart’ one, I was out in the fields fixing everything that broke down.”

I felt a pang of sympathy for him but didn’t say anything, knowing he wouldn’t want pity. Instead, I just watched as he worked, slowly but surely bringing the engine back to life.

“I guess it paid off in the end, though,” Troy continued, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Because now, I can get this thing running and get us to where we need to go.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. I knew his father wasn’t really the best dad. He neglected him for years while he was being abused by his mom. Jeremiah told me that himself. But I knew how much Troy still loved his father, and how much he wanted to prove himself to that old bastard. “Your dad would be proud.” I say

Troy chuckled, shaking his head. “I doubt that. But maybe he’d be impressed. A little.”

After what felt like hours, the boat finally sputtered to life, the engine coughing before settling into a steady hum. Troy stood up, grinning like a kid who’d just pulled off a magic trick.

“There,” he said, wiping his hands on his jeans again. “Told you I could do it.”

I stared at the boat, amazed that it actually worked. “You never cease to amaze me, Troy.”

He shot me a playful look. “I’m full of surprises. Come on, let’s get moving before the tide changes.”

When we arrived at the gates of a small island, a teenage girl with brown hair and a fighting stick stepped forward to open it. She looked us up and down, her eyes sharp and calculating. “What’s your business here?” she asked.

I forced a calm smile and lied smoothly because Madison had to be the first person to see us and hear us out, “We’re looking for my missing child.” Tracy squeezed my hand as the girl sized us up, then nodded and led us inside.

She sized up once more before sighing “follow me.”

She guided us to a small office, which looked more like an interrogation room. “Wait here,” she said before disappearing through another door.

The moment she left, I glanced down at Tracy. She tried to keep a brave face, but I could see the fear in her eyes, even if she’d never admit it. I squeezed her hand tighter, offering some comfort, though a shudder ran through my back as well.

Troy, always observant, noticed and pulled me into a hug. His embrace was strong and steady, but I could feel the tension radiating from him too. He knew as well as I did—this wasn’t the Madison we once knew. Eleven years had passed, and while Madison and I had parted on good terms, things had changed. Madison had changed. She had to have grown colder, harder. After all, who could stay the same after everything that’s happened? I was with troy, and I was sure she hated him.

I had faith that she wouldn’t hurt a child, at least not intentionally, but the thought still gnawed at me. Without a word, I bent down and lifted Tracy into my arms, even though she was getting too big for it. I just needed to hold her, to feel her close. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her head nestled into my shoulder.

Then, the door creaked open.

All three of us turned toward it, the tension thick in the air as we braced for what—or who—was about to step through.

Madison’s face twisted with shock the moment her eyes fell on Troy. She froze, her expression a mix of disbelief and something close to fear, as if she were staring at a ghost. In a way, she was.

Her voice came out in a stunned whisper, “But… I killed you.”

Troy didn’t respond immediately. His jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his neck tensing as he bit his tongue. I could see the battle going on behind his eyes—the anger, the pain, the memories of everything she’d done to him.

I reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, squeezing just enough to remind him that I was there. Supporting him. His eyes flicked to mine for a second, and I gave him a soft nod. We were in this together, no matter what came next.

Madison’s gaze darted between us, the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. Tracy shifted slightly in my arms, sensing the heaviness in the air, but she stayed quiet, her small hand clutching at my sleeve.

Finally, Troy exhaled, his voice low but steady. “As you can see I’m alive and kicking,” His face did nothing to hide the glare coming from his eyes as he spoke “You didn’t finish the job, Madison.”

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As always let me know what you liked and what you didn’t like.

I’m always open for critique

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@elleirbag50 @aldenenjoyer

[happy74827]

In The Eye of The Storm

[Troy Otto x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When your refusal to harm the living puts you in a life-threatening situation, you find yourself saved by the one person who embodies everything that you can’t bring yourself to become.

WC: 1446

Category: Slight Angst {Innocent!Medic!Reader, TW: Death, Hints of Assault}

My first fic of 2025!! As a New Year resolution (not really), I finally started binging FTWD after finishing all the other Walking Dead shows. It's pretty good imo. I don’t understand why it’s so hated… but then again, I’m still only on Season 3 LMAO

『••✎••』

The world hadn’t ended in one violent explosion but in slow, agonizing pieces. You thought the worst part would be watching people you loved turn, but the truth was darker. The living had become worse than the dead, and sometimes, you wondered how long you could keep your ideals intact before they got you killed.

You clung to the idea of doing good, of helping others, even as society crumbled around you. You had studied to be a doctor back when the world was still standing, and for now, that knowledge hadn’t gone to waste—at least not yet. It made you useful and valuable even though, in this world, kindness wasn’t enough to survive.

Nick had tried to make you see that more than once.

"You’re gonna get yourself killed, y’know," he’d said after you patched him up for the third time in as many weeks. His tone wasn’t cruel, but it carried that edge of concern he tried to hide beneath his usual cynicism. "You keep thinking people are worth saving. Not all of them are."

You hadn’t argued with him that day, but you hadn’t agreed either. How could you when the instinct to help was ingrained in you? It wasn’t about naiveté or blind hope—it was about holding onto the last thing that made you feel human. If you gave up on that, what would be left?

Still, Nick wasn’t the only one who had warned you. Even Madison, who had once praised your level head, had pulled you aside after one close call and made it clear that mercy wouldn’t keep you alive. And Troy—well, Troy never passed up an opportunity to remind you just how weak you were.

"You’re soft," he’d told you once, his voice laced with that infuriating mix of disdain and amusement. "The world’s gonna chew you up, spit you out. You know that, right?"

It had taken every ounce of self-control not to snap back at him. Troy didn’t care about you in the way Nick or Madison did. He wasn’t trying to protect you—he was observing you, picking apart your flaws like they were things he could exploit. And yet, there had been something in his tone that day, something almost curious, like he couldn’t quite understand why you were the way you were.

And now, standing here, cornered by a group of men who saw you as nothing more than easy prey, you wondered if they had all been right all along.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands gripping the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. But it didn’t matter how hard you held it. You couldn’t make yourself move. You couldn’t make yourself do what needed to be done.

"Look at her," one of the men sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Shaking like a leaf."

The others laughed, and the sound sent a cold shiver down your spine. You tried to steady your breathing and summon the courage to act, but your body refused to cooperate.

The scarred man at the front of the group took a step closer. "What’s the matter, sweetheart? Too scared to use that knife?"

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Every instinct you had screamed at you to run, but there was nowhere to go. You were trapped.

And that’s when you heard a calm, cold voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

The laughter stopped. All eyes turned toward the source of the sound, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

Troy stood a few yards away, his rifle slung lazily over his shoulder, his posture loose but poised, like a predator biding its time. His lips curled into a faint smirk, his pale blue eyes glinting with that dangerous, unreadable light you’d come to associate with him.

"Gentlemen," he drawled, tilting his head slightly. "This a private party, or can anyone join?"

The leader of the group—the man with the scar that came running down his jaw—snorted, clearly unimpressed. "Keep walking, man. This doesn’t concern you."

Troy’s smirk widened, his gaze flicking to you briefly. Something in his eyes made your heart race. Not out of fear, but out of a strange, twisted sense of relief.

Because you knew what Troy was capable of. You knew that these men had no idea what kind of storm they’d just walked into.

"See, that’s where you’re wrong," Troy said, his voice deceptively casual. "It kinda does concern me." He shifted the rifle off his shoulder, cradling it loosely in his hands. "She’s with me."

The scarred man’s eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

Troy didn’t miss a beat. "Try me."

It was strange how your fear shifted from terror at the threat before you to unease at the prospect of what Troy would do. Because there was no doubt in your mind that he would kill these men, and you didn’t know if you could handle the aftermath.

The poor irony was that these… men, they didn't even recognize their own danger. You saw the way the leader of their group sized Troy up, the way the others fanned out in a flanking position. They thought they had the upper hand.

Numbers come across as intimidating in the long run, but in truth, the numbers are only as good as the skill of those wielding them.

So, from a glance, it was three men against one.

But in reality, it was three men against an unstoppable force of nature.

"Don’t." You said quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Troy, don't—"

You didn’t know why you were trying to stop him. They would have killed you … or worse, without a second thought, and the fact that Troy was actually willing to stand up for you was something you weren't expecting.

And yet, a part of you couldn't stand the thought of him taking a life—even the lives of men like this. You couldn't stand the thought of blood being spilled, all for the sake of defending you.

You knew what he would say: that it was the way of the world. That it was necessary. But you couldn't bring yourself to accept that.

Troy didn't answer, didn't even look at you. Instead, his eyes were fixed on the men, his grip tightening on his rifle. That… you suppose, told you that his ears had heard, and he was choosing to ignore.

The man with the scar glanced over his shoulder, meeting his companions' gazes. They shared a silent exchange, a silent debate, and then the man turned back to face Troy, his expression darkening.

"Let's see how tough you are, pretty boy."

It took about two minutes. Maybe three.

By the end of it, the ground was soaked in blood, and the air was filled with the sharp smell of iron.

The leader of the group had been the first to fall, his skull shattered by a well-placed shot. The others hadn't lasted much longer, their bodies littered with bullets from Troy's rifle.

You'd watched it happen, too stunned to move. It had been like watching a hurricane, powerful and destructive and utterly unstoppable.

When the last man fell, Troy turned to face you, his expression inscrutable. "You're welcome."

You should have thanked him, should have acknowledged his help. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Not when you'd seen the cold, calculated look in his eyes, the way he'd relished in the violence.

So, instead, you looked at him, your voice wavering with emotion. "I didn't want this."

Troy snorted, rolling his shoulders as if to release the tension. His rifle slid back over his shoulder, the barrel still warm from the discharge.

His gaze held yours, a challenge in those pale blue eyes. After a moment, he spoke, his tone calm and clipped. "Fine." He nodded his head slightly towards the dead men. "Next time, I'll leave 'em to you."

With that, he turned and started to walk away, his strides confident and purposeful. He didn't look back, didn't seem to care if you followed.

And in that moment, you hated him. Hated him for his coldness, his ruthlessness, his refusal to see your point of view. But most of all, you hated yourself because despite everything, despite all the death and bloodshed and destruction, you were grateful.

Grateful that he'd been there.

Grateful that he'd saved your life.

And no matter how much you wanted to deny it, you knew the truth.

Troy Otto was right.

You were soft.

Weak.

And no matter how much you resisted, no matter how much you pretended, sooner or later, the world was going to swallow you whole.

And no storm could save you from that.

[justanoasisimagines]

Tangled

Summary; When Jeremiah sends Troy to help you with the Broke Jaw christmas window competition, neither of you could have expected the results. Pairing; Troy Otto x Female Reader WordCount; 1,563 Trope used; Small Town/Events A/N; Hey my lovelies, week 2 of the 7 weeks of Hallmark fics. Am I overly happy with this, no, because I feel like I could have done this better, but I still wanted to post it for you guys. Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Broke Jaw was a small town in the middle of nowhere. Full of old traditions, a strong heart of community. In a place where everyone knew everyone, there was never a quiet moment.

Christmas arguably held the most traditions. There were Christmas parties and markets, but nothing was bigger than the Broke Jaw Christmas Street Event.

Every year, businesses compete to create the best Christmas display. They were becoming bigger and more extravagant. Everyone aimed to outdo their competition. It created the most magical displays, almost as if you had wandered into Winter Wonderland or a magical Christmas paradise in which you're wildest dreams come true.

You owned the bookstore in the middle of the street. It was warm and homely, welcoming avid readers back and enticing new readers to begin their journey into discovering the power of reading. Your bookstore was your pride and joy.

You put months of planning into your Christmas display. Always attempting to outdo yourself from the previous. This year would be no other. You truly believed this would be the year That you would win the converted snow globe trophy.

"Hey Darlin', you look busy here." Mayor Jeremiah Otto, popped his head through the door, two fresh cups of hot chocolate in hand. He wandered in passing you a cup, eyes flickering around the room. A look you'd seen too many times before.

"What's Troy doin' now?" Jeremiah moved to sleep into the old brown leather armchair that sat in the left corner, with a large sigh, he rested his back.

"Is it really that obvious? Shit, I used to be better at hiding my emotions as far as he's concerned" Jeremiah took a sip of his hot chocolate. "It's nothing new, hell I shouldn't even be surprised. Getting into fights starts trouble with anyone he walks past. I could shove him in an empty room and he'd cause chaos."

"I'm sorry to hear that, if there's anything that I can do all you have to do is ask."

"That's funny you should say that Sweetheart. Jake reckons if Troy were to have some direction, something to focus perhaps he wouldn't go around starting trouble." You leaned against the closest table, looking at Jeremiah suspiciously.

"And where would I come in?"

"Sweetheart you're good, you've never been in any kind of trouble a day in your life. Make mistakes sure, but that's all about growing. If he could just help you out this year. Keep him occupied. He can help ya with your display. All I'm asking from you is to keep him busy, to put him to work."

"How are you going to get him to agree to this? He's an adult, Jeremiah." Jeremiah raised from the chair rubbing a hand over his head. "You leave that to me."

Two days later, you were working on your front display, kneeling on the ledge, Christmas music playing in the background. Quietly you wove the fairy lights around the highest point of the window. You leaned up high onto your tippy toes to reach the highest point.

"You need any help there?" You nearly lost your balance at the sound of Troy's voice. He'd always had a knack for the worst timing imaginable. Regardless, Jeremiah had asked you to keep him out of trouble and that's what you intended to do. You nodded as you moved out of his way.

Troy fixed the lights around the highest point of the window, before stepping down with a smug look on his face as if he'd accomplished something you couldn't.

Troy was someone you'd never been to understand. He was reckless and a law onto himself, he could cause fights out of thin air and often experienced the thrill of a physical altercation. You'd seen him bloody and beaten up too many times. As a result people often underestimated him. They didn't see how intelligent Troy was, how he could build something out of nothing. Never cared to admit or recognize when Troy did well. When he'd been able to go a stretch without finding himself in trouble.

The two of you stood in silence for a long pause not being too familiar with each other. Aware of each other, yet never have an opportunity or an excuse to talk. "My Dad said you needed my help. I know he's shoving me off into the corner trying to get me out of trouble." Troy glanced down only for a brief moment, before looking back at you. The mischief held behind his gaze almost as if Troy was battling it to hide beneath the surface.

"Well, I could always use the extra pair of hands if you don't mind helping me." Troy gave a rare smile, Normally, the others would palm him off, and send him to work without more than some instructions, but you appeared to want his company. You'd also given him a choice to turn around and walk away.

"Sure I'll help you."

The two of you began to work together, both teetering around the edges at first, not knowing how to react, learning about each other. Troy brought new ideas and creative ways to bring your ideas to life. Troy was more than what they said he was. Troy could be helpful and kind when he was given the right kind of encouragement.

One day you were returning to your bookstore after picking up some lunch from the diner. Between dealing with customers and helping Troy with the arrangement, you'd been rushed off your feet all morning. You had never expected to find Troy with a bloody nose. "It's not as bad as it looks." Hastily, you placed the bags on the side as you rushed over to Troy, pulling some tissues out of your pocket. "I've been gone less than an hour. What happened?" Troy resisted the urge to pull away when you gently placed the tissue on his nose. "I've got a face people love to punch that's all." Your face fell, the joke had fallen flat. "Come on don't you think it adds to my rugged charm,"

"What happened?" Troy could see the concerned frown as you attempted to clean the blood off of his face. "Doesn't matter. You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." Moving to put the bloddied tissue in the bin, you turned to face him.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

"Old man Clayton's son, Travis. He keeps causing trouble at my Dad's bar. Last week, I was workin' a shift when I chucked him out-presumed he was too drunk to remember…apparently not. Guess it was better late than never to get revenge."You sighed, you did believe Troy. After all, what reason did he have to lie to you? Perhaps, what the town speculated about him wasn't always true.

"Come let's take a break and have lunch, then we can get back to work."

It's weird how things change sometimes. Troy surprised you in every which way. He could be kind and level-headed. He was polite and personable when he interacted with customers on the day you were busy. You'd begun to look forward to opening the shop each morning, knowing you'd get to spend time with Troy. You wouldn't hide how much you were enjoying this year's preparations. Usually, it was difficult work, but Troy made it easier.

One day Troy began to act suspiciously, refusing to allow you into your favorite corner of the bookstore. He refused to give anything away. Any time you attempted to sneak a peak, it was like he'd already predicted your next move.

The day before the judging, Troy met you outside of the bookstore, rubbing his hands together, fighting off the winter chill. Without saying so much as a word, Troy wrapped a red scarf around your eyes, as he led you into the bookstore. The two of you stumbled around the bookstore, as Troy led you. It should have been easy maneuvering around a building you navigated every day. Yet it was new putting your full trust in Troy.

"Ready..one…two..three…now look" Pulling back the red scarf, it was revealed the coziest Christmas-themed fireplace. It appeared to be something out of a Christmas novel. Beautiful yet understated it was everything you could have dreamed and hoped for.

"It's beautiful." Troy was proud. He finally felt as if he had done something right. For someone who increasingly mattered to him. The size of your smile alone had made it worth the extra hours of work.

Yet as you stood admiring Troy's work, Troy tapped your shoulder pointing directly above the two of you., both of you unsure. Troy found his chance and decided to make his move. He'd been thinking about it since the day he walked into your bookstore. You'd looked so beautiful, yet so relaxed. You'd given him time. You'd chosen to understand him when rarely anyone bothered. The kiss was chaste and hurried. Troy feared you would pull away from him. He didn't know what would what would happen next, but he'd like to hope his life tangled with yours some more.

[fanfics4all]

Temperature Play

Request: Yes / No Kinktober Day 1!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Troy Otto x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1797

Warnings: SMUT!

Summary: When it's way too hot to sleep in the apocalypse and there's no power to be found. Your boyfriend, Troy Otto wakes to find you not able to sleep and figures out how to help.

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

It was way too hot out. My skin was melting and my brain was boiling. We had to be in a heatwave. For the past two days the heat has been unbearable and in a normal world we’d be able to turn on the air conditioning, but we were in the fucking apocalypse! We were just stuck in the horrible heat with limited supplies. 

It was dark out, the window in Tory’s room at the Otto house was open. I was desperately trying to circulate some air, but it did next to nothing. I couldn’t even sleep if I wanted to. I had kicked off the covers, leaving my naked body exposed. Oh, how I missed the icy air of the air conditioners. Troy was sleeping next to me, or I assumed he was asleep. He wasn’t moving and was turned on his side, he didn’t bother wearing clothes either. All I wanted to do was sleep, we had to be up in a few hours to start the day. I knew the longer I was up sweating, the more irritable I was going to be. I sighed, feeling frustrated tears sting my eyes. I just wanted to sleep… 

“Still up?” Troy asked, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Yeah.” I hissed miserably. He rolled over to face me. The covers were bunched around his legs with just one above the blanket. His skin was glistening in the moonlight, probably just like mine. His hand touched my cheek lightly.

“Babe…” He sighed. His cold fingers felt so nice against my flushed cheeks that I couldn’t help but moan. He smiled and trailed his fingers down my cheekbone and across my lips. My heated skin quickly warmed his fingers and I was once against too hot and sweaty. I sat up frustrated, burying my head in my hands. Troy sat up and moved closer to me. I could tell he wanted to hold and cuddle me back to sleep, but touching would just make us both hotter. 

“Maybe I should just go jump in the lake, it’ll cool me off for a little while…” I mumbled, dreading the idea of going outside where it was probably hotter. Troy slipped out of bed and put on his discarded boxers. He came to my side of the bed and kissed my forehead. 

“I’ll be right back.” He said, his voice exited as he headed out the door. I heard him quietly walk down the stairs and out the door. I shook my head and sighed. I had no idea how the hell he could be happy right now. It wasn’t long before I heard his footsteps return and head up the stairs. 

“Close your eyes.” He said from the other side of the door. I sighed but did as he asked. I felt him coming towards me, but I couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on my lips. I felt something against my mouth, amazingly cold and numbing that I gasped. My eyes snapped open and Troy was kneeling before me, a small bowl of ice next to him. He was sliding an ice cube against my bottom lip, the cool water dripping down my chin as it melted. 

“Oh Troy…” I moaned slightly. 

“I’m gonna help you cool down.” He said with a smirk. 

“But, won’t your parents be pissed that you took the ice?” I asked and he rolled his eyes. 

“Nah, Jake might but who cares? Now, lay down.” He said, gently pushing me down. 

My back hit the sheets, already feeling a bit of relief from the ice that he was sliding down my neck. Goosebumps appeared as he went. Watching the ice melt quickly against my burning skin. The tension that’s been building over the past two days slowly releasing. 

Once the cube melted completely he laid his icy, wet fingers on my stomach. He grabbed the next ice cube with his mouth, grabbing the ice between his teeth. He dragged it up my shin, water dripping down my calf as he went. A content moan slipped back my lips as I watched him. My hands found their way into his hair as my nails dragged against his scalp. 

“Troy!” I moaned. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I happily groaned out. The ice in his mouth was nearly melted and he sucked it in quickly. He kissed my hip, making me arch up slightly. 

This time he grabbed one cube with his mouth and another between his fingers. He held the cube to my lips, which I quickly began to suck. He chuckled slightly and dipped his head down to my collarbone. He slid the ice against the bone and up my neck. My moans grew shaky, feeling a new form of stimulation. His fingers pushed the ice between my lips. My lips wrapped around his index and thumb, sliding my tongue where the ice had melted. He trailed the ice in his mouth between my breasts, my nipples quickly hardening. His free hand wrapped around my right boob and brought the ice to circle it. I whimpered around his fingers. Troy smiled like a wolf that just caught his prey. My back arched off the mattress as he circled my nipples. 

“They’re melting faster than I can replace them.” He said with a smirk. 

“Feeling any cooler?” He asked and I nodded helplessly. 

He moved back up to my face, kissing me desperately. His tongue explored every part of my mouth, chilled saliva mixing with hot breaths. I reached down, trying to grab the waistband of his boxers and push them away, but he was taller than me. I blindly grasped between our bodies, whimpering against his lips. 

“Take them off baby, please. I need you so bad.” I begged against his lips. My chest arched into his own and my hands grabbed his back. I needed him so bad. He already helped so much, but now my mind was foggy. Troy chuckled at my desperate pleas. 

“You need some help, babe?” He asked as he slid his tongue against mine again so I couldn’t answer. 

“You need me to take care of you, is that it?” He asked with a cocky smirk. I nodded again, hoping he would just fuck me already. 

“Say it.” He ordered. 

“Troooy, please… it’s too hot… please.” I begged. 

“No, not until you say it.” He said, continuing to kiss against my chin and neck. My body was already starting to get hot again. 

“Troy please, I need you so bad! Please help me.” I gave in. Troy quickly shed his underwear and kissed me again. This kiss was deeper and harder, his teeth clinking against mine. He couldn’t hold back anymore. My hands flew to his neck, pulling him closer. I hooked my legs on his hips and released him for just a moment so he could align himself with my entrance. His eyes met mine and I watched them turn darker as he pushed himself inside. It felt like forever as he penetrated me, pushing against my cervix. He angled upwards to kiss that one spot inside of me that had me seeing stars. He let out a low-grown, eyes rolling to the back of his head and his hands bruising my hips as he bottomed out. 

“Fuck… he cursed against my neck. I whined and turned my head to allow him more access to my neck. I loved the feeling of his kisses and biting me. My neck was so sensitive, his teeth just barely scraping against my skin. He pulled my thighs up higher on my hips, allowing him to thrust deeper into me. The sound of his balls slapping against my ass mixed with his low groans and my whimpers. My walls clenched around him and he shuddered. 

“Fuck babe, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop that.” His voice broke as his hips jerked into me uncontrollably. 

“I need you to cum.” I said as I arched off the bed again. 

“Please cum inside me baby… You feel so good.” I moaned. He filled me up completely like he always had. He moved one of his hands to mine, bringing it to his mouth and kissed my fingers. He regained control over his thrusts and his breathing quickly. His other hand moved over to my knee on his hip and down my thigh and brought his thumb to my throbbing clit. I let out a shaky moan and my jaw dropped. 

“Now you’ll cum for me.” He said as he circled my clit perfectly. He always knew my body better than I did. My eyes fluttered closed as my orgasm quickly approached. My hands gripped his shoulders, feeling his muscles under my trembling fingers. His name was the only thing leaving my lips. 

“Babe, I- Oh fuck…” He was already on the edge of another climax. 

“I know me too. I love you.” I said as I pulled his face down and pressed my forehead to his. His thrusts became slower and more direct against my G-spot. His thumb continued to rub my clit, my orgasm building up inside me. 

“Kiss me.” I whispered and he instantly connected our lips. That was the thing we both needed to push us over the edge. He pumped two more times before once again painting my insides with his cum. I fluttered around him as our lips kept connected. He stayed inside me, making sure to keep his cum as deep as he could. 

“I love you too.” He breathed out, making me giggle. I clenched around him again as he pulled out. 

“Don’t tease, unless you wanna be screaming.” He smirked. I blushed and shook my head, making him chuckle. He laid down beside me and pulled me into his side. 

“Feeling a little cooler?” He asked and I nodded. 

“A little, but way more sweaty.” I giggled. He rolled his eyes and reached over to the bowl of now mostly melted ice that was on the nightstand. He grabbed it and dumped it over my body. I shrieked and jumped out of the bed. 

“Troy!” I shouted. He chuckled and then someone slammed their fist against the wall. 

“Keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Jake shouted and Troy laughed harder. I groaned and moved to Troy’s side of the bed. 

“You can sleep on the icy cold side.” I said and he smiled. 

“Fine.” He said and moved to the other side. I watched him shiver a bit and smirked. 

“Now we can sleep.” I said, happily snuggling into Troy’s side of the bed. He wrapped his arm around my waist and kissed my shoulder. 

“Goodnight babe.” He whispered and I smiled as I finally drifted off to sleep.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction

[maraudereestauderelb]

Can you please do a Troy Otto where he found her a while ago nearly dying and he’s like kind of obsessed and infatuated with her and since he’s the one who saved her she kind of always sticks by his side and depends on him for most things which he absolutely loves he’s like really possessive over her like really and it’s when the clarks come in and they see y/n with Troy and maybe gets kind of concerned casue she seems so sweet and wondering why she is around a house like Troy I mean they kind of have a point (it’s not the heaviest relationship but ya know troy is kind of a psychopath so I feel if he ever was in a relationship he would be like that) and he gets defensive when they bring her up and maybe her and nick could just be talking and Troy gets jealous and maybe kinda smutty at the end 💕(sorry it’s so long)

Hello there! Thank you so much for your request! I just finished a fic that fits this request perfectly!

Maybe you'd like to check it out: What Are The Chances

Thanks again,

Love, Sel

[escapist-of-fiction]

One shot - Troy Otto x Fem Reader

Description - just a bit of fluff really. Something that has been floating in my head for a while and needed to write it down. Troy is a bit of a tease in this but I like him like that.

Warnings - none really. Mild swearing.

If you do read, a like, reblog and/or a comment would make me smile :) enjoy!

‐-------------

It had become abundantly apparent to everyone that something was developing between you and Troy.

There was something about the way he looked at you from across the room, never intrusive but always keeping one eye closely on you, watching your every move. You didn't mind though. It made you feel safe. You didn't feel so alone in the crowd.

Every chance Troy had; loading supplies from the trucks, collecting empty dishes at meal times, showing you how to hold a gun in the right way to defend yourself, any excuse to have just a little bit of contact with you. You didn't mind. You wanted him to do it. Your skin tingled at his touch. If he stood close to you, you would hold your breath without even realising. It was just the effect he had on you. In a group situation, he would always somehow find his way next to you, by now it was almost an expectation.

You wondered how long it would take for him to make a move. It had taken so long that you were unsure whether it was all in your mind and he had no interest in you at all.

"You can see it, can't you?" Alicia said one day as you sat together at lunch.

"See what?" You responded innocently.

You needed someone else to spell it out to you. To make it seem real. It seemed too good to be true in your own mind. After all, why would someone as complex as Troy be interested in someone as basic as you?

"Troy. There's something about you two. The way he is around you, it's like you're precious cargo or something. He speaks to you so differently to everyone else, with a whole new level of respect. He doesn't even speak like that to Jake, his own brother."

You didn't know how to respond to this, so you decided not to say anything at all.

On the day the Militia headed out on their short mission, you stood with everyone else at the gates. Going on missions was a weekly occurrence in the post-apocalyptic world but today everyone seemed a little on edge. Everyone except Troy.

You stood a little away from the small gathering, leaning against a table where supplies were piled up high. You watched as Troy fooled around with some of the Militia members, his trusted and closest comrades obviously. He wasn't normally this way before a mission, which made you think it was a little more serious than the average. He was trying to put everyone at ease. Rumours had been going around the Ranch that you were heading out to confront another group, who were threatening to steal water supplies. It wouldn't be an easy mission and lives were potentially at risk.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice someone pick up a box beside you, until their voice brought you back to reality.

"You aren't normally here to see us off," Troy noted.

"I'm surprised you would even notice," you answered with the tiniest of smiles, watching for his reaction.

"Dont worry, I notice."

You watched as he walked towards the truck and placed the final box in the back, hitting the side panel to signal to the group that they were ready to go.

You expected Troy to climb into the driver's seat as normal, rev the engine, turn up his heavy metal music and speed out of the Ranch, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. But not this time.

This time, he turned and walked back in the direction of you. You lifted your head to look up at him as he got closer and closer, until he was stood toe to toe with you. He had a look on his face, a mixture of uncertainty and, was that yearning?

You were perplexed by Troy's actions and you were just about question his odd behaviour when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and....kissed you.

The briefest of kisses that lasted long enough to make your head spin, your toes curl and heart race all at once. It stunned you but made sense to you all at once. You felt Troy's hand press firmly into the small of your back to pull you against him as his other hand gently caressed your cheek.

Then no sooner had it started, it stopped and Troy pulled away. No explanation. No second glance as he turned and walked back towards the truck and the waiting Militia.

You stood there in shock, your fingers reaching to your lips to trace the echo of his touch.

What the hell was that?

Five days passed until Troy and the Militia returned.

Five days for you to mull over your encounter and ask yourself a million questions. You flitted from the feeling of lusting after Troy and more from that kiss, to being filled with a mild rage at how the bastard had acted in such an impulsive way and walked right out of the Ranch with no explanation.

By the time they returned, you had made up your mind on what to do next.

You never normally gathered with the others at the gate but this time was different. This time you had a reason to stand amongst the friends and family. You wanted Troy to know he had left someone behind. Someone who cared about him, his reckless behaviour and the consequences that came with it.

You watched him exit the truck last of all. He looked tired and weary, having been on the road with little to no sleep and carrying the responsibility of everyone's safety on his shoulders. There was a part of you that wanted to rush to him, embrace him but something made you hold back and wait.

Eventually, Troy looked up and spotted you, his eyes lighting up as they met with yours. You gave nothing away. He approached you, watching your expression tentatively, wondering how you were going to react since your last encounter. He took the fact you were here at all as a good sign.

Coming to stand in front of you, he rested his hands on his hips and tilted his head with a cocky smile.

Words were lost on you. You tried to think of something smart to say, to chastise him for what he did the last time you saw each other but you just kept losing your train of thought in those azure, blue eyes.

Instead, you communicated in the only way you both knew how.

Stepping forward and rising to the balls of your feet, you placed a hand on the back of Troy's neck and pulled him down to meet you.

Your lips pressed firmly against his. A kiss almost sweeter than the first, full of promise and something that you couldn't quite describe but you knew you needed more of it.

Reluctantly, you pulled away to look up at Troy, your hands pressed against his chest. Judging by the hazy look in his eye and the delectable way he licked his lips, it told you everything you needed to know. He felt exactly the same way.

And then, just like that, you found your voice again,

"Hi."

Troy laughed softly,

"Well it took you long enough, darling"

[luciddaizey]

if i started an Isaac Lahey series would anyone actually read it or is that fandom completely dead? 😞 i wanna do a Troy Otto one too but i think im gonna do both if yall will actually read them IDK HELP?! clearly i love daniel.

[alyssaforevermore]

dating troy otto would include…

Meeting: Troy found you in the early days of the apocalypse. You were in the desert, dehydrated and close to death. He brought you back to the Ranch and kept a close eye on you, constantly checking in to make sure that you were recovering well. You became fast friends, appreciating his attention and care, so it wasn’t long before things became romantic.

Affection: When it comes to PDA, Troy was typically not a huge fan. He much preferred to love on you in private, a small kiss turning into much more in no time.

Jealously: Despite not enjoying PDA, whenever Troy finds himself jealous of attention you get from others, he will not hesitate to throw his arm around you and kiss you on the cheek. This is his way of showing people that you are his and not to be messed with.

Protection: Troy had a difficult upbringing but his brother Jake was always there to protect him. This instilled a protective nature in Troy when it comes to people he loves deeply. Whenever you face danger, Troy will risk his own life to protect you without hesitation and you do the same for him.

Balance: Troy has a chaotic energy about him. You often act as his voice of reason (or moral compass) as he can be cold and cruel to those he does not trust. On the other hand, Troy is often encouraging you to stand up for yourself, something you have a tendency not to do. The two of you bring out the best in each other.

Romance: Troy is not the best at romantic gestures most of the time, having had no real example of it growing up. Sometimes he surprises you though, planning mini dates despite the chaos of the apocalypse.

Sick: When you’re sick, Troy will insist that you remain in bed. He makes sure to bring you food from the common area, not wanting you to have to venture out for it or miss meals. He will also take your shifts on the Ranch. Getting Troy to rest when he’s sick is a big challenge, one you usually can’t succeed at. However, at the end of the day he really appreciates you tending to him and cuddling in bed.

Loss: You and Troy had experienced plenty of loss since you met. Losing his father, brother and then the ranch all so close together nearly broke him. Things became so heavy that neither of you knew how to handle it. Still, your relationship remained strong as you supported each other the best you could.

————

AN: I hope you all enjoyed this one! More of these coming soon for different characters/fandoms <3

[flower-slut004]

5 Times Troy Otto Fell in Love

Troy was never a romantic, he thought of romance as a sign of weakness. He could never show love, he was never shown love.

The first time Troy fell in love was when you helped clean his eye out after Madison had stuck in spoon in it.

"I am so sorry.. this is going to hurt" she squeaked as she heard his grunts of pain. Troy eyed her suspiciously as she held his face gently

"Why the fuck are you helping me? We have nurses for this shit." he grumbles as he looked up at her. Yn shrugged as she took a wet towel to his face.

"I just feel guilty for what she did, the situation escalated and this should have never happened.. I'm sorry" she sighs as she stares into his ocean eyes.

Troy thought his heart stopped for a moment, the intimacy of eye contact was something he had never experienced and he felt as his body was on fire from it.

"Whatever" he looks away, hoping she didn't see his blush.

The second time Troy fell in love was when you ran to him after Walker and his men took their belongings.

Troy felt his heart drop at the sight of everyone rejoicing with their loved ones, everyone but him. He coughed awkwardly as his father approached him, only to be tackled by her.

"Oh my god Troy!" she sighs in relief as she held him tightly. Troy's face grew red as she bombarded him in questions as she held him in her arms.

Troy softly pushed her and cleared his throat "Don't worry your pretty little head Yn" he mummers as he regains his composure.

"I have it under control"

The third time Troy fell in love was when you allowed him to stay the night at your cabin

"Thank again..." he mummers agaisnt her chest as he held her tight. Yn only hummed in response as she played with his hair.

"Yn..." he groans as she gently pulled on his roots, Yn giggled as she heard his groans.

"What?' she tilted her head, faking an innocent look. Troy looked up and smirked at the glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

"You're knocking on troubles door if you keep doing that.."

Yn tugged at his hair once more, teasing him "Good.. is he home?"

The fourth time Troy fell in love was when you were there for him when no one else was

Soft hushes and mummers filled the cabin as Yn pressed her lips to his forehead.

“It’s okay, you’re okay Troy…” she whispers, attempting to soothe him from his nightmare.

Troy gripped on to her for dear life, as if she were to disappear into thin air, tears running down his face as he burrowed his head deeper into her body.

“I’m… Im so sorry” he sobbed “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he cried out.

Yn hushed him again “Don’t apologize Troy, It’s okay to be human…” she rubs his back “Let it all out, I’m here for you”

The fifth time Troy fell in love, he knew he had to do something.

Troy huffed as he watched himself in the mirror, cracking his neck in an attempt to ease his nerves.

His eyes trailed down his body and led down to his fidgeting hands.

Troy looked at himself in the mirror again and forced a smile on his face, a smile that was quickly turned with a nervous quiver.

“Stupid stupid stupid” Troy mumbles to himself as he hit his forehead repeatedly. Shaking his head again, he took out the ring from his pocket and stared at it for a moment.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her voice throughout the cabin. “Are you ready for the picnic Handsome?”

Troy took another quick look at himself in the mirror with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah babe… I’m coming.”

[sombrashe]

i neeeed more nsfw troy headcanons pls 🙏🏼

anon i love you. I saw this and ended up stimming so hard i had to take deep breaths to calm myself down enough to write

He loves squeezing and grabbing at your body whenever he can, he uses it like an anchor when he's fucking deep inside of you

When he's deep in the moment (especially between your legs) his accent is much thicker and will use more southern sounding nicknames like sugar and sweet pea

Missionary is not his style, it might be nice as you two are getting to know each others bodies but it doesn't last long

His favorite position is stuffing his mouth full of you sitting with you on his lap while you ride the fuck out of him

Oral is just... with this man you're going to be pulling his hair for hours he loves listening to your noises as you suffocate him making him take you more and more until you're a whimpering overstimulated mess

Is more of a stomach and thigh guy than an ass or boob/pec guy

Don't get me wrong he's all over a nice ass, but prefers the softness of a pudgy belly and thick thighs

He's not the best at wearing a condom, obviously he tries really hard, but when he's in the moment you better start speaking up or else he's going in raw and whimpering about how good you feel squeezing around him

Talks a lot during sex

Always calling you nicknames

Always asking for more, it doesn't matter what it is he wants more

Always asking how your day was to try and hear your voice break

He may talk a lot during it, but the noises he makes? Oh this man never shuts up

mommy kink (daddy kink after his dad dies :()

won't even ask will simply let it slip during the heat of the moment

let him call you mommy/daddy!!

Taking a shower? That's so funny because he was just about to do the same thing. Oh well i guess you have to shower together now

Just waking up and feeling icky and wanna brush your teeth? Nope sorry Troy is in between your legs and wont leave until you're minutes away from being late for work

Oh honey you got stuck somewhere and need Troy's help getting unstuck? Lets hope you're in a comfortable position because you're not leaving that spot for a long time

[wincheskka]

Familiar (part 1)

Pairing : Troy Otto x Fem!Reader x Negan Smith

part 2

Summary : You are at Alexandria because you want to have a happy life, away from the pain of the loss of your son's father. (I'm so bad at this sorry)

Genre/Warning : Romance, death mention, blood, injury, TWD & FTWD SPOILERS (If there are any other warnings let me know)

A/N : This story takes place to the end of TWD season 11, Annie doesn't exist in it (sorry). I've had this idea for 2 years, and with Troy's return, it makes me want to write it even more so here it is.

English is not my native language so I’m really sorry for the spelling mistakes. (tell me if there are any errors)

You put your basket on the ground when you finally see a blueberry tree, you crouch down to be able to collect them and put them in the basket, behind you the branches break under Negan's steps :

“You didn’t have to come with me” You tell Negan, turning to look at him.

“And who would protect you ?” Negan asks looking around to make sure there's no danger coming, you roll your eyes at his words.

“Negan I can protect myself” You respond, turning back to the blueberries.

"I know you can but we don't know what can happen" He replies, you shake your head at his worries "And I don't want to have to tell James that something happened to his mom"

“Nothing will happen to me” You said, throwing a blueberry at Negan which landed on his face, making you let out a small laugh.

“Yes because I’m here” He leans down and picks up the blueberry you threw at him and throws it back at your head.

“Mister has an oversized ego I see” You laugh and you collect more blueberries, you hear Negan's snicker from behind.

"It's not just my ego that's-" He starts his sentence but you turn to look at him.

"Do not finish this sentence !" You warn him by glaring at him, it makes him smirk, you look away from your friend.

You arrived at Alexandria for 10 or 11 years ago, before arriving at Alexandria and even before the apocalypse you lived at the Broke Jaw Ranch with your boyfriend Troy Otto.

You had found out about your pregnancy two days before Madison killed the man you loved, you still love. When you found out about his death you couldn't believe it, all you wanted to do was kill Madison for what she did, but you had to protect your son, so you did nothing, you let her live, so when she died at the stadium you were happy and reassured but that didn't make the pain go away.

Nick helped you a lot when you were pregnant, until giving birth or even when you just needed a shoulder to cry on Troy, he was there and he was the only one to be there for you, you knew he felt bad, that his mother killed Troy. Nick was like a brother to you and when he died it hurt you a lot, you felt so alone.

When Morgan wanted to take the group to Alexandria you immediately said yes, you wanted to be able to take your son safely, where he could have a comfortable future and where you could perhaps rebuild yourself.

So when the group finally decided not to go to Alexandria, you still went there alone with your son, during the trip you encountered some problems but you managed to arrive at the gates of Alexandria safe and sound with your 1 year and a half son.

The Alexandrians welcomed you with suspicion at first until you explained to them that it was because of Morgan that you knew about this place.

You and your son have managed to integrate into the community. You heard the stories about the war with the saviors, you had heard what the leader of the group had done, you knew he was locked up in Alexandria. You weren't afraid of the stories the Alexandrians told you about him, you felt familiar with it and you didn't know why.

6 years later your son called Alexandria home, you too even if you missed the Ranch, it was Troy that you especially missed, you never started your life again with anyone, you couldn't do it.

When winter fell just after Alpha killed Tara, Enid and Henry, you were finally able to meet the famous Negan, you weren't afraid of him, you were intrigued and even you laughed at his jokes, which surprised him, Negan also felt intrigued by you.

After the winter, Negan was able to go out more often but with someone to watch him,but that didn't stop you from talking to him but you came to see him more often when he was in his cell, you talked, you talked with him about you, about James and also about Troy, talked about Troy had hurt you a lot but Negan comforted you and you did the same when he talked about Lucille.

Negan and you quickly became friends and even you could say that he became your best friend, it's been a long time since someone cared about you like that.

After the events of the whisperers and the Commonwealth, you stayed at Alexandria and Negan also stayed with you at Alexandria, he was able to finally get to know James, your son as immediately liked Negan.

For Negan, James is like his son, he cares about him just like he cares about you a lot. You love that Negan is there for your son but you know that James sees Negan like his father and it hurt you that he never met his father, he never asked you about him and you were quite grateful for that, because you know it will be a hard discussion to have, but you also know that the discussion will happen one day.

"You're almost finished ?" Negan's voice brings you out of your thoughts, you don't look at him but roll your eyes and put more blueberries in the basket then stand up taking the basket in your hand and turn back to him.

“I finished” You say, smiling at him and lifting the basket to show him, he also smiles at you “You’ll be able to enjoy the pie that I’m going to prepare”

“Oh I have no doubt, your pies are always fucking excellent” Negan replies, you can see how he looks like he's happy to eat a pie and it makes you giggle a little.

“There is one condition before you can eat it” You walk in front of him and point a finger at him, he raises his eyebrows confused.

“And which one”

“Tonight you cook” You smile at him while biting your lip, he chuckles at your request “You know that James prefers your cooking to mine, so a good meal with a good dessert”

“I always find it strange that your pies are so good but your cooking is really not great” He mocks, you narrow your eyes, you didn't think he was going to confirm that your cooking wasn't very good.

"Thank you" You thank him sarcastically, he chuckles again, he opens his mouth to speak but suddenly noises are heard around you, you turn around and see 5 walkers coming towards Negan and you "Shit"

You put the basket on the ground, take out your machete, Negan steps forward to kill the first two walkers then you move forward to kill the others, you puts your machete into the skull of the first walker, you see the second one approaching you, you pull out your machete from the dead body's skull but it doesn't want to come out, you frown and try harder but it still doesn't come out.

The panic begins to rise when you see him coming towards you, the third approaches too, you force a little more by putting your foot on the dead body and suddenly the machete comes out but the walker are too close you quickly back away but trips on something and falls backwards, causing you to drop your machete.

You immediately feel the back of your head hit something, you feel a great pain, you groan in pain, it hurt so much but you didn't have time to understand what happened, a walker falls on you, you raise your hands so he can't bite you but you feel so weak, your hands are shaking it's more and more difficult to keep the walker away from you.

Suddenly the weight of the walker is lifted off of you, you sigh and drop your hands to the ground, your head hurts so much, your vision started to blur but you can see Negan above you with a worried face :

"Y/N are you okay ?” He asks panicked and he looks around your body to see if you were bitten, he sees the pain on your face and his eyebrows furrow even more "Where it's hurts ?"

"Head" You manage to say in pain, Negan looks at your head then he puts a hand on your neck and lifts your head, you frown in pain at this movement, you feel Negan's other hand touch the back of your head, you groan in pain.

“Shit” Negan says looking at his hand covered in your blood, your eyes start to close on their own “No keep your eyes open Y/N” He gently places your head on the ground, he caresses your cheek with his hand not covered in blood.

You try to do what he says but fail and the darkness takes you away but before you do you feel Negan lift you into his arms and see the fear on his face.

~

You hear voices around you which pushes you to open your eyes, but as soon as your eyes open you close them immediately because of the light in the room, you moan in pain and the voices in the room stop immediately. You hear footsteps approaching you and feel a hand on yours :

“Y/N, are you awake ?” You hear Negan's voice ask, you open your eyes a little more slowly but you squint them because of the light. You see Negan above you looking at you with worried eyes "Are you okay ?"

“T-too much light” You say closing your eyes in pain, you feel Negan remove his hand from yours and hear noises in the room, a few seconds later Negan puts his hand back on yours, you open your eyes, the room was now a bit more darker, he had drawn the curtains.

“Better ?” He asks still worried, you nod slowly, then suddenly confusion settles in your head, why are you here ? What happened ? You start to panic a little and try to sit but Negan stops you “Easy, easy Y/N”

"Why am I here ?" You ask while looking around you, you notice a woman in the room looking at you, you take a few seconds to remember that it's the doctor from Alexandria then you see a man approaching you, you recognize Gabriel.

“You don’t remember what happened ?” Gabriel asks with a frown, you shake your head, Gabriel turns to look at the woman.

“Negan tell her what happened” The doctor orders Negan, you look at him with confusion, he nods in the direction of the woman then looks back at you, Negan then explains everything to you “You remember now ?"

"Not really" You reply, Negan gives you a comforting smile, squeezes your hand and strokes your cheek with his other hand.

“You have a concussion” The doctor says, you look at her “You will stay in the infirmary today and tomorrow”

“But I have to take care of my son” You respond in panic, you can't leave James alone, Negan squeezes your hand again, you look at him.

"I'll take care of James" He tells you to calm you down, you still look at him worried "Don't worry" you sigh and slowly nod.

"She needs to rest now" The doctor says, Negan looks at her and sighs, he doesn't want to leave you you can see it and you also want him to stay but you prefer that he be there for your son , it's you this time who squeezes his hand, he looks at you again.

“Don’t worry” You repeat the words he said earlier, with a little smile, he smiles too and nods.

"I'll come see you tomorrow" He answers, then he leans down and places a kiss on your forehead, you close your eyes at that, after the kiss he removes his hand from yours and leaves at the same time as Gabriel and the doctor, let you rest.

~

You rested all day, you were so tired and the pain in the back of your head wasn't helping, you woke up just for dinner and you didn't even eat much.

The next day you woke up with a headache, you hadn't eaten your breakfast and barely ate your lunch. Negan came to see you at the beginning of the afternoon, he told you that James was worried about you and had trouble falling asleep last night, it hurt you to learn that your son was worried about you, you would have liked to see him but you knew that if Negan would have taken him here, you wouldn't have wanted him to leave.

Negan stayed for 30 minutes, you were happy that he came to see you even for a short moment, you spent the rest of the day sleeping, this time you ate a bit at dinner, which made you feel nauseous.

After the two days in the infirmary, you were finally able to go home, Negan came to pick you up. When you stood up you immediately lost your balance but before you hit the ground, Negan catch you.

Before you two left the doctor gave instructions on what to do and what not to do, she said that Negan needed to be there for you and said that it was best if your son spent two or three days at someone else's house. You didn't want to at first but the doctor said it was better so you could focus on yourself, rest better and heal :

"Could you ask Aaron if he can keep James ?" You ask Negan, as you walk to your house, leaning on him.

“I don’t know if he’ll be very happy to see me but yes I’ll ask him” He answers, being careful that you don't trip over anything.

You both arrive in front of your house, Negan helps you up the stairs, opens the door and you both go inside. He directs you into the living room and sits you on the couch. Negan draws the curtains to block out the light, so you take off the sunglasses he lent you and put them on the nightstand nex to the couch.

You hear footsteps on the stairs, you turn to look and see your 12 year old son coming down the stairs, as soon as he sees you he runs and hugs you, you wrap your arms around him, he really missed you.

“Hi honey” You say hugging him tighter, not wanting to let him go.

"Are you okay ?" He asks pulling away from the hug, you give him a reassuring smile.

“I'm fine, don't worry” You respond, you lie to him a little to reassure him, you don't want to tell him that you're tired, you have a headache and sometimes you feel confused.

"I'll ask Aaron" Negan says looking at you, you nod and he walks out of the house, James watches him walk out in confusion.

"Ask what ?" James asks looking at you in confusion, you sigh you have to explain to him now.

“You’re going to stay at Aaron’s for a few days” You answer him, he frowns even more.

"What ? Why ?" He asks with a little sadness in his blue eyes the same as his father's.

“Because I still need some rest” You answer him, placing your hand on his shoulder “And that I couldn’t take care of you”

“You don’t need to take care of me, I’ll be good and help you around the house” He speaks a bit panicked that he can’t stay with you.

"It will only be for two or three days" You try to reassure him but you still see sadness in his eyes.

"I don't want to" James says a bit louder, you sigh, open your mouth to answer him but suddenly your vision blurs and you feel dizzy, you hand squeezes the pillow next to you "Mom ?"

"Aaron said there was no problem fo-" Negan's voice say but when he sees you he stops in his sentence and runs towards you, he places his hands on your cheeks “Close your eyes sweetheart”

You do what he says and close your eyes, not even paying attention to what he called you. He makes you lie down on the couch so you don't fall, he gently removes his hands from your cheeks :

"James you can go get your things, I have to take you to Aaron's" You hear Negan's voice say to your son.

"But I don't want to leave her" Your son's voice responds worriedly, he became even more worried with what just happened.

"I know you're worried about your mom, kid but I'm going to take care of her, okay ?" Negan responds, you open your eyes when you feel the dizziness fade.

You see Negan look at James with a comforting smile, James looks at him for a few seconds then sighs and nods, he turns to go up to his room to pack some things. When James disappears in the stairs, Negan turns to you, he sees that your eyes are open so he approaches and sits next to your legs :

"You okay ?" He asks also worried even if he tries to hide it, you smile at him and nod.

"Yeah that was just a little dizzy" You answer, he smiles even if he's still worried, suddenly you remember how he called you earlier "Did you called me Sweetheart ?"

“Yeah I did” He answers you with a smirk, you look at him a bit surprised and also a bit embarrassed, your cheeks heat up, you turn your gaze to your hands that are on your stomach, you hear his laugh at your reaction "If it bother you I won't-"

“I doesn't bother me” You say, interrupting his sentence, you raise your eyes to his, he has a smile on his face, you smile at him shyly

You both look into each other's eyes, you feel peaceful with him, he always made you feel good and happy. For a few seconds you both stay like that until the sound of footsteps on the stairs is heard, you look away from his eyes to watch your son walk towards you two with a backpack on one of his shoulders, you still feel Negan's eyes on you :

"I'm ready" Your son says with a sulky face, this time Negan's eyes turns to your son.

"Alright" Negan says getting up, he starts walking to the front door but stops when James doesn't follow him "Come on James"

James turns to Negan and sighs wanting to stay with his mother a bit longer, you watch him walk towards Negan, you sigh not liking see him sad, you get up from your lying position and sit :

“James” You call your son, he turns around and you open your arms for him to come in, he runs to you and you wrap your arms around him and hold him tight “Don’t worry about me honey Negan will take care of me and you can come see me, okay ?”

You feel him nod against you and you hug him even tighter, you kiss the top of his head. You take a look at Negan, he smiles at this mother and son moment, you move away from the hug then with your fingers you comb his brown hair just like his father's, James looks so much like Troy that sometimes it hurt you to look at him :

“I love you James” You tell him with a reassuring smile, he smiles too, looking less sad and worried.

“I love you too mom” He responds, your heart melts at his words, James has always been a child who was not embarrassed to say I love you, you know when he grows up it will be more complicated, so you get the most of it now.

"Come on kiddo" Negan says, James walks over to Negan and you stare at him until he and Negan leave the house, your eyes are still where they went out :

"He really looks like me" a voice says, this voice is familiar to you, so familiar, your heart starts racing.

You slowly turn your eyes where the voice comes from and you see a familiar person in the doorway to the dining room, your eyes fill with tears :

"Troy ?!"

______________________________________________________________

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go

Chapter 19

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love triangle.

You made it back to the ranch undetected and spent the rest of the night curled up beside Troy in the med tent. You didn’t sleep, constantly listening for noise. Voices or gunfire, the truck’s engines. But nothing came. You were just about fading into sleep as the sun began to rise when Troy made a sound, his eyes flickering open.

“Troy?” you say, hopefully.

His blue eyes find you and his lips twitch in a smile.

“I’ll get Jake—“

His hand grabs yours, he must have used all his strength to keep you beside him.

“No. Not yet. Stay.”

You hesitated, scared that something could go wrong. But as his eyes focused on yours you couldn’t resist, sensing his need for you. You lay back down beside him, looking him in the eye and speaking gently.

“What were you thinking huh?”

Troy doesn’t need to ask what you mean.

“Kept you safe…” he says weakly.

You shake your head.

“Not like that. Please. Never like that again.”

Troy looks confused, his brow furrowing before he winces with the pain in causes in his head.

“Have to. Do anything…”

You sigh, understanding the feeling. Remembering your own rage and desperation when you’d seen him brought in covered in blood and unmoving.

You gently run a hand through his curls, avoiding the parts that were clumped with his blood. You sigh.

“I know. I know.”

He closes his eyes, his lips turning up as he makes a low sound in his throat. Then he says something so quiet you’re sure you hadn’t heard him right and lean closer, your heart pounding.

“What… what did you say?”

His eyes open slowly, foggy but focused on your face.

“Marry me.”

It wasn’t a question. Your heart pounds. It was an inevitability. You stare.

“Marry… you?”

Troy smirks.

“You gonna say no?”

You shake your head.

“Of course not… but… you’re injured and probably concussed and it’s the end of the world anyway, who gets married in the apocalypse? Does marriage even mean anything anymore? Does it matter what denomination we are or can we just make up whatever we want—“

Somehow Troy had found the strength to lift his head and kiss you, until he fell back against the pillow looking green.

“Bad idea. Gonna puke.”

“Shit,” you grab a bowl and prepare to help him. “Well, if that wasn’t the most romantic proposal ever…”

You watch as Troy sucks in a deep breath, steeling himself against the urge to vomit. His hand presses to his bandaged head and the IV in his arm tugs awkwardly. He grunts and pulls it out in frustration.

“Don’t-“ You try and stop him but he’s already groaning again. “I’m getting Jake—“

“Already here.” Jake’s voice is cutting as you turn and see him striding over, rolling up his sleeves. You feel his eyes chastise you for not fetching him sooner.

“He just woke up.”

Jake ignores you and immediately checks Troy’s vitals. Even though he looks like crap Troy smirks at his big brother.

“Did I have you worried?”

Jake’s expression is grim, “You always have me worried, little brother.”

“That I do Jakey. That I do.”

You watch as Jake does his work, moving off the bed even when Troy looks at you longingly. Jake grumbles under his breath, you can’t hear him but Troy chuckles at whatever he says.

“Can I do anything?”

Jake gives you a dark look.

“You can stay right there, so I know where you are.”

Your heart drops. Did he know where you'd gone last night?

You look down at your feet hoping Troy wasn’t able to pick up on the tension, but of course he could sense your anxiety growing by the second.

“What is it?” He asks, gently at first. When you don’t answer he turns to Jake, practically barking at him. “What happened?”

Jake shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re on leave from your duties until further notice.”

Troy somehow manages to go an even paler shade of pale.

“What? The hell I am—!”

“Dad’s orders.” Jake snaps back.

You watch the brothers argue, shifting awkwardly on the spot with nothing to do or distract you until you speak up uncertainly.

“It’s just until he heals, right?”

Jake’s expression says it all and Troy’s eyes go dark. “Where is he? Where’s Dad? I can talk to him—“

Jake pressed a hand to Troy’s shoulder and pushes him back on the bed when Troy tries to get up. You move forward to put a reassuring hand on Troy’s arm as you look at Jake in confusion.

“Why would Jeremiah do that?”

Jake’s eyes snap to yours and you can see what he is thinking, can see his surprise that you’d even need to ask after Troy had gone off on a group of survivors who hadn't provoked them. You look away, ashamed slightly. You’d forgotten that what you and Troy might see as necessities for survival - no matter how brutal - still crossed the line for some people.

Thankfully Troy seemed too agitated to sense your feelings about the situation as he was trying to get off the bed again, knocking everything askew as his limbs flailed with an uncharacteristic lack of coordination.

“Troy! Please, settle down!” You handle him much more gently than Jake who looks like he is tempted to knock Troy unconscious again.

“He can’t do this!” Troy snaps. “The Militia is mine! He can’t take it away from me!”

Jake curses and slams Troy back on the bed. You jump back, surprised by Jake’s aggression as he gets in Troy’s face. “Of course he can! After what you pulled! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

You stare at Jake, realising you were missing something here. Troy merely stares at his big brother for a moment before his mouth curls in a snarl.

“There he is. Jeremiah Junior. You’re more like dad than you want people to see.”

You frown at that, sensing the tension building between them. Feeling something in Troy… something mixed in with his anger and resentment.

Sadness?

Pain?

You press a hand on Jake’s shoulder, your eyes set.

“Let me see to Troy. Go get some air.”

You knew he didn’t have to obey you. You had no authority and you were just a scrap of a thing yourself, barely recovered from almost dying of malnutrition and exposure. But Jake scoffed and stormed away, the flap to the tent whipping out dramatically around him. You look down at Troy.

“You wanna tell me what that was about.”

Troy grunts and relaxes slightly, his body still exuding tension.

“Just… brother stuff.”

“You can’t lie to me,” you sit down beside him again and gently boop his nose. “I can feel it.”

Troy raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.

“Ok so maybe not exactly. But I can tell there’s something you’re hiding…”

Troy looks away from you, his expression difficult to read and his emotions even more so. It was like trying to grab hold of something in a wind tunnel, one feeling after the other flying around you. You couldn’t get a grip on what was going on. And yet all that betrayed his inner turmoil was the tension of his mouth and the narrowing of his eyes. You lean down and kiss his cheek, gently.

“Let me go and get a fresh bandage for your head. Then we can talk.”

Troy’s hand snaps out an grabs your own. Your left hand. His eyes travel up your arm and to your face as his thumb gently strokes your ring finger.

“You didn’t answer.” Troy says quietly.

You hesitate.

“I didn’t know if you meant it…”

Troy’s eyes fix on you and you feel your chest expand with emotion, all consuming, needy, desperate and wanting…

Troy’s feelings.

“I never say something I don’t mean.”

He tells you this as he tugs you closer. You lean over him, confused by his sudden change in mood. He’d gone from angrily cursing his father to… this. Looking at you like you were the last sip of water in the desert.

“I… Troy, is it something you really want?”

His eyes are glued on yours and you can tell he is also picking through your emotions. You chew your lip, hoping he won’t be offended by your reluctance. Your doubts. Because they weren’t about him. Not at all…

“What are you afraid of?” Troy asks as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You take a long breath as you try and figure out how to answer.

“I just never thought marriage really mattered… especially with a soulmate. I’m already yours, right? And you’re mine?” You try not to think about Nick. About the confusing feeling in your heart and gut that you were desperately trying to suppress.

Troy regards you curiously for a moment and you focus on your feelings for him. The sense of safety and belonging he gives you. He seems to relax.

“You are. And I am.”

You smile.

“I’m not saying no… just… it doesn’t mean more to me than just being with you as we are. But if marriage is something you want, that you need… then I’ll say yes. Always yes, Troy.”

His face breaks into a smile you’d never seen on him before.

“You will?”

You could laugh at the sudden boyishness about him.

“Yes Troy. I will… or I do. Whatever it is people say now.”

You’re pulled down to kiss him, trying not to fall against him in his injured state but Troy doesn’t seem to care. He’s all wild tongue and teeth and hands in your hair, holding on tight as you try to keep from passing out from lack of air. Eventually he relents and you’re able to sit up, head spinning slightly.

“Whoa…”

He sniggers at your reaction.

“Still got it, even half-dead.”

You slap his chest playfully.

“You’re crazy, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Troy’s expression softens as he looks at you, all flustered and pink cheeked now. “You’re beautiful, have I told you that before?”

You feel your cheeks colour, “You're concussed.”

Troy’s lips are a wonky smile.

"Yeah, but I'm right."

You shake your head and sigh.

"I am not arguing with an invalid."

Troy makes a face.

"Don't call me that. You might as well say I'm impotent."

You feel your cheeks flush, knowing he just doesn't like being injured and feeling like he wasn't useful. Troy seems to catch your embarrassment and his lips twitch.

"Something on your mind?"

You make sure to keep your expression blank when you reply.

"Of course not. Not at all. Why?"

"No reason. Except I can feel what your thinking."

You curse the bond you share for a moment before you remember what you had learned about your connection through The Pull.

"Troy... you know that this thing we share isn't... normal. Right?"

Troy watches you for a moment before shrugging.

"So?"

You look at him with surprise as he settled himself more comfortably on the bed, looking tired again.

"You knew?"

"I think we should talk about this later. Not here. Not now."

You nod.

"Okay..." You watch as Troy closes his eyes. "Are you in pain? Shall I get you something?"

He nods slowly, a hand reaching out for you. When you take it he tugs you toward him gently.

"Just... stay with me for a while."

You settle on the edge of the bed beside him as he lays with his eyes closed. After a few moments you start to softly run your hands through the curls on his head, pausing when he makes a noise in his throat. One eye opens and he smirks.

"Don't stop."

You smile back.

"Only because you're hurt. Don't expect me to be so nice all the time."

Troy chuckles as he tilts he head toward you more.

"Noted. I'll milk this moment for all its worth then. Do I get a sponge bath too?"

You're glad his eyes are closed as you feel your cheeks heat up. You tug his hair slightly harder as a warning for him not to get too cheeky. Troy grins.

"I like that."

Oh Jesus.

"Just.. get some rest."

"Yes, ma'am."

You sigh and continue to run your fingers through his hair until you're sure he's asleep. When he's breathing deeply you pause, looking around and listening for approaching footsteps. When you hear nothing you lean forward and rest your cheek on his chest, closing your own eyes and listening to the steady beat of his heart. The sound brings you comfort, a sense of calm. You close your eyes. This was where you belonged, no matter what was going on with Nick and The Pull. It must have been a fluke. A rare mistake somehow.

Troy was your soulmate.

This was home.

Right?

[wlwalthea]

needing a troy x reader where they think he looks really good in his uniform and every time the militia goes out they try to sneak glances at him before they leave but gets caught by someone and they’re blushing trying to deny it so harddjksjdj

[edgarapoecolouredglasses]

Little mastermind part seven

THE GIF IS NOT MINE it is @luciddaizey

Pairing: Troy Otto/Reader

Summary: Madison is willing to meet them halfway. She states her conditions and tells them to bring the group.

Part: 7/?

Masterlist

———————🔅——————— for pov change

———————————————-

Troy took a deep breath and stepped forward, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “I’m not here to relive the past or to seek vengeance. I’m here because I have a group—a community—that needs help. We have children, families who are depending on me to keep them safe.”

He looked at her with earnest eyes, hoping to reach the part of her that had once shown him compassion. But she was stoic. She might have been shocked after having believed he was dead for so long, or she was just going over all the ways that she could kill him in an instance. Either way, just silence from her part.

“You know I wouldn’t come to you of all people unless I was really desperate. We’re running out of resources and options. I need your help” he says, truly letting go of every single ounce of his pride.

Madison’s gaze shifted to me, her eyes sharp, but with sadness inside them, she asked. “What happened to you?”

I met her gaze steadily, though I felt a pang of discomfort. Before I could answer, Madison’s eyes fell on Tracy, who stood close to Troy now, clutching his hand. Madison’s brow furrowed in realization. “Whose child is this?” she asked Troy.

She was being eerily calm, I didn’t completely trust it. I lifted my gaze and looked around for a sniper. If there was one, he was hidden well.

Troy opened his mouth to respond, but Madison cut him off with a sharp glance toward me. “And you… how could you be with someone like him? After everything he did?”

I took a deep breath, knowing what she was thinking but choosing not to clarify her misunderstanding. That wasn’t important at the moment.

“You don’t know him anymore, Madison. Troy changed a lot. He’s grown into a remarkable leader. He’s built a community from nothing, kept people safe, and cares for them with everything he has.” I plead his case.

Madison’s eyes searched mine for a moment, and I could see the skepticism in her gaze.

Madison’s eyes searched mine for a moment, and I could see the skepticism in her gaze. “I know it’s hard to believe,” I continued, “but he’s not the man you think he is. And our group are good people.”

Madison seemed to weigh my words carefully. After a moment, she nodded slowly.

“Alright. I’ll give you a chance. Bring your group here. We’ll see what we can do.”

Relief washed over me as I glanced at Troy, who looked equally relieved but still tense. Tracy squeezed his hand, her fear momentarily eased.

I felt my heart suddenly beating faster, a chill ran down my spine. That was way too easy. It shouldn’t have been so easy.

“But there’s one condition.”

There it is.

Troy stiffened beside me, already sensing the shoe that was about to drop. I swallowed, feeling a knot tighten in my chest as Madison’s gaze fixed on him.

“Troy has to leave.”

My heart sank, and I saw Tracy flinch. She glanced up at him with wide eyes, silently pleading for reassurance, but Troy just stood there, his expression blank, unreadable.

“What?” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “No… Madison, you can’t—”

“I can,” she cut me off sharply, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I won’t risk everything I’ve built.” Her gaze shifted back to Troy, the weight of years of resentment burning in her eyes. “He’s already done enough damage.”

Troy’s face remained stone. He stayed silent, not defending himself, not pleading—just taking it.

“I’m doing this for the safety of everyone,” Madison said firmly. “If you want to bring your group,if you weren’t lying about the children and families? fine. But Troy? He goes. And if I ever see him again, you all go.”

I felt my pulse race, anger bubbling up inside me. “You’re not being fair, Madison. He’s—”

“I am being fair,” she snapped. “More than fair. I should have killed him the second I saw him. After everything he’s done, he’s lucky I’m even giving you this chance, and that’s only because you took care of Alicia. The only thing I owe him is death”

Troy finally spoke, his voice low and calm. “It’s fine.” He glanced at me, his eyes steady, though I could see the weight of resignation behind them. “If this is what it takes to keep you all safe, I’ll go.”

“No.” I shook my head, unable to accept it. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “I’ll find somewhere else. I’ll make it work.”

Tracy’s eyes welled with tears, and she clung to him tighter. “But I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I want us to be together, Dad.”

Troy knelt down in front of her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We will be,” he promised softly. “Someday. Just not here.”

Madison’s expression didn’t soften. She was unmoved. And as much as I wanted to fight her on this, I knew there was no changing her mind.

I turned to Troy, my chest tightening with the weight of helplessness. “This isn’t right,” I whispered.

But he just shook his head and stood up, gently pulling Tracy into a hug. “It’s alright,” he said quietly. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to start over. Won’t be the last.”

Madison crossed her arms, her stance final. “You have your one simple condition. The rest is up to you.”

I glanced back at Troy, desperate to find another way, another option. But he just gave me a small, sad smile.

———————————————

Tension had been building between us ever since Madison laid down her ultimatum. Now, as we drove down the seemingly endless road toward the library, I was growing more frustrated by the second.

“This is ridiculous, Troy,” I said, my voice trembling with frustration. “You can’t seriously think you’re just going to walk away. We don’t need PADRE, we need you.”

Troy’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t answer at first, keeping his eyes on the road. His silence only made my anger flare hotter.

“I mean it,” I continued, my voice rising. “If you go, we all go. That’s it. No one gets left behind.”

He shook his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “That’s selfish, and you know it.”

“Selfish?” My voice cracked as I repeated the word, my chest tightening with disbelief. “You think I’m being selfish because I don’t want you to risk your life alone out here?”

Troy finally glanced over at me, his eyes hard. “You’re not thinking clearly. This is about more than just you and me. This is about Tracy. About keeping her safe. I won’t take away her chance at a normal life just because—”

“Because what?” I interrupted, my voice sharp. “Because she’d rather grow up with her dad?”

“Because you’re being petty,” he shot back, his voice rising at me for the first time in ages. “Think about what’s best for them. For Tracy. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

I felt like he had slapped me in the face “Petty?” I repeated. “You think I’m being petty for wanting to keep my family together?”

“Tracy’s safety is the priority. My life goal—my only goal, is to make sure she’s safe. Somewhere she can actually live, not just survive. And if leaving is the only way to do that, then I’ll go. Gladly.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “You think she’ll be safe without you? Happy? You think this is what’s best for her? You’re her father, Troy. You think you can just walk away and think that everything will be fine?”

Tracy herself wasn’t saying anything. Just staring out the window with unused tears in her eyes, trusting me to fight this battle for her.

“It’ll be better for her than starving to death, or worse!” His voice cracked with the force of his words. “I’ve done terrible things. Things you haven’t even seen, things that would make you look at me differently if you knew. But if I can give her this—this one thing, this one chance—I’ll have done something right. And that’s all I need.”

“You’re not thinking straight!” My hands balled into fists in my lap, my heart hammering in my chest.

He didn’t say anything, his jaw clenched so tight I thought the muscle might snap.

The silence between us was suffocating, thick with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. Finally, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears spilled over, hot and angry, streaming down my cheeks.

“You’re my best friend, Troy,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

The car was dead quiet for a moment. Then, a small voice from the backseat broke through the tension like a knife through butter.

“You made her cry,” Tracy said, her voice small and accusatory.

Troy stiffened, his shoulders dropping as if the weight of the world was finally too much for him to carry. “It’s okay, Tracy,” he said softly, not taking his eyes off the road. “It’s just hard for all of us, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“No, it’s not,” I shot back, wiping at my eyes angrily. “You’re being stubborn, and you’re not listening. You don’t have to do this alone. We’re stronger together. You’re scared, and you’re making decisions based on fear.”

“I’m not scared,” he snapped, but his voice wavered, betraying him. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I’m doing what’s best for her. And for you” He gestured vaguely, his hand gripping the wheel tighter. “For a life where you’re not always cleaning up after my mess.”

“I don’t care about that,” I shot back. “I don’t care about any of it. I care about you. You’re not a mess, Troy. You’re family.”

He flinched at the word, his expression softening for just a second before hardening again. “This is the right thing to do. It’s the only thing.”

I couldn’t believe how blind he was being, how willing he was to sacrifice himself for some idea of redemption. “You’re wrong,” I whispered, my voice shaking with frustration and pain. “You’re so wrong.”

Troy’s grip on the wheel tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might say something, might finally break down and admit he was scared too.

But instead, he stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to carry out this self-imposed exile.

When we got back, it was already dark. The library was quiet, with only a few soft lights flickering. It was crazy to think that the solar panels were still working, there was still light.

Troy gently tucked Tracy into bed, his movements tender and protective. Once he was sure she was settled, he turned to me.

He walked over, a mixture of exhaustion and relief in his eyes. “We should talk,” he said, his voice low.

I nodded, sensing the gravity of the conversation that was about to unfold. We found a quiet room away from the makeshift sleeping quarters, where we could speak without disturbing the others.

Troy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face etched with weariness. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The soft hum of the night was the only sound, the faint flicker of candlelight casting shadows across his frowning features.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “My decision’s made,” he finally said “There’s no changing it.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at his words. “Troy—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, his tone firm but not unkind. “I know you don’t agree with it, and I get it. But… this is what I need to do.”

I felt the sting of frustration rise in my throat, ready to spill over into another argument.

But then he shifted, his expression softening as he stepped closer.

“We can spend these last few hours fighting about it,” he said, his eyes searching mine, “or we can make the best of it. Just… without all the anger, without the argument.”

I looked at him and whispered, with trembling voice, “You’re asking me to pretend like everything’s fine when you’re about to leave and I won’t know what happens to you.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenched.

“I’m asking you to let me have one last day where I don’t feel like the villain.”

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. “Troy, you’re not a villain. You’re not—”

“I am,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with guilt. “And maybe this is my way of trying to make up for it. I don’t know. But… I don’t want to spend what little time we have left tearing each other apart. I don’t know when I’ll see you again. So I need you to trust me”

I stared at him, my heart aching. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. But in that moment, I saw the man beneath the stubbornness—the man who had been fighting for so long to keep his daughter safe, to make up for the past.

“You’re really doing this,” I concluded, the words thick in my throat.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. “Yeah. I am.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to push back the anger and the hurt. “Okay,” I said softly. “No fighting.”

Troy let out a long breath, as if he’d been holding it in, waiting for my answer. He stepped closer, gently reaching out to take my hand. His touch was warm, grounding me in the moment.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. When I opened them again, Troy was watching me, his eyes soft, filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

———————🔅———————

“We’ll make it count, tomorrow,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was thinking we leave around noon?”

“We should get some sleep,” she said, glancing at Troy, who was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “Tomorrow’s going to be long. Hectic too, with the entire group travelling. We’ll need all the energy we can get.”

Troy didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke. Her words drifted in the air, but his attention was elsewhere, focused on the way her hair caught the faint glow of the light, how she absentmindedly chewed on her bottom lip when she was thinking too hard. He wasn’t ready for the night to end. Not yet.

As Y/N turned to grab her jacket, Troy suddenly spoke up, his voice casual but deliberate. “Actually… my eye’s acting up again.”

Y/N paused, looking at him with concern. “Your eye?”

He nodded, his fingers brushing absently along the scar on his temple. “Yeah. It’s been hurting all day. Burning.”

She frowned, stepping closer to him. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Troy shrugged, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Didn’t want to bother you. Figured I could tough it out.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look, her hands already moving to check the injury.

She swallowed her unease about Madison’s ultimatum. He had asked her to trust him, and that’s what she’d do. And as always, blindly.

She couldn’t allow him to go out into the world alone with bad eyesight.

“Come on, let’s go to the med room. I’ll take a look at it.”

Troy followed her without protest, secretly disgusted with how easily the lie had come out. He didn’t need any more treatment, not really, but if it gave him a few more minutes with her, he’d gladly fake a thousand more aches and pains.

He knew it was selfish, but something about the thought of saying goodnight felt too final, like it would end more than just this day.

They walked through the quiet corridors until they reached the med bay, the sterile scent greeting them as she flipped on the lights.

Troy sat down on the edge of one of the cots, watching as she gathered a few supplies. She moved with the same quiet elegance she always had, the same calm in the midst of chaos. But he knew how many miles per hour her brain was actually going.

When Y/N turned back to him, Troy kept his gaze on her, his heart tightening for reasons he didn’t fully understand, and that he was unwilling to explore when he had to leave so soon after.

She was focused, her hands gentle as she grabbed the bottle of eye drops and moved closer to him.

“Alright, tilt your head back,” she instructed softly, holding the drops above his injured eye. Her fingers brushed his chin lightly, guiding him as he leaned back.

Troy did as she asked, his eyes never leaving hers. From this angle, she looked different—softer, maybe. The tension of the day had all but melted away from her features, and he found himself studying the way her eyelashes fanned out when she blinked, the slight pursing of her lips as she concentrated.

“Look up,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Troy swallowed, feeling the burning sensation of the drops hitting his eye, but barely registering it as his focus remained on her. She was so close now that he could feel the warmth of her breath, smell the faint scent of her hair. He blinked a few times as the drops worked their way in.

Y/N carefully wiped away the excess liquid with a gentle swipe of her gloved thumb, her fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

She cleared her throat softly and moved to examine the scar along his temple next. Troy tensed slightly as she reached for the tender spot, her fingertips brushing his skin.

“Does this still hurt?” she asked, her tone professional, but there was something else there too—a quiet concern she tried to hide. What was he going to do without her out there?

Troy didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched her, his gaze tracing the curve of her face. Her body angled toward him as she inspected the scar. He could see the faintest hint of worry in her eyes, a small crease forming between her brows.

“Not really,” he finally answered, though the words felt distant, like they were coming from someone else. “It’s more annoying than anything. It feels tight.”

Y/N nodded, but her touch remained light, almost hesitant as she dabbed at the scar with a cotton pad that she had soaked in olive oil to moisturize it. “It’s dry, flaky” she remarked softly “you need to keep it supple, otherwise it will crack and a new wound will open”

She worked in silence, her focus entirely on him, and for a few moments, it was as though the rest of the world faded away.

Troy’s chest tightened, watching her with a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. He could have been anywhere else in that moment—sleeping, curing fuel, making plans for his survival—but here he was, sitting on the edge of a cot in the quiet med bay, with Y/N’s hands on him, her presence grounding him in a way nothing else could.

‘She makes you happy, isn’t that important?’ Tracy’s words from a few weeks ago swirled through his mind.

“There,” Y/N said softly, finishing her work. “You’re good to go.”

She stepped back slightly, putting away the supplies, and Troy instantly missed the warmth of her touch. He sat there for a moment, watching her move around the room, feeling the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between them.

Out of nowhere, Troy asked a question that caught her off guard. “So, were you and Jake ever… involved?”

She raised her eyebrows, surprised by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Wow, asking random questions must run in the family,” she replied with a teasing lilt in her voice, referring to the time with Tracy in the woods

Troy chuckled, but his gaze remained steady, expectant, as if he were waiting for a more serious answer. She felt the weight of his scrutiny and knew he wasn’t going to let the moment slide.

With a shake of her head, she replied, “No, we were just friends, great ones. Out of our friend group, I was the only one who believed him when he said the ranch was safe.”

A sigh escaped her lips, and as she spoke, the memory of losing Jake crashed over her like a wave. The flashback of her and Alicia holding each other close in mourning resurfaced, and she felt a knot tighten in her chest.

The fear of losing another person she cared about surged, and it made her heart race at the thought of Troy going off on his own.

But then she looked at him—Troy wasn’t Jake. There was an instinct in him that Jake had lacked.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Jake wasn’t ready for this world. He was too kind, too good. He always wanted to do the right thing.”

Troy’s expression shifted, a flicker of hurt crossing his features as he looked away. The right thing is what killed his brother.

And as irony would have it, to do the right thing he would be leaving everything he held dear in a matter of hours.

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him. “Sound familiar?”

Troy took a moment, the tension palpable as he thought it over. Finally, he met her gaze again. “Jake died with honor,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “And sooner or later, I will too. I told you, I’ve made up my mind”

The conviction in his words struck her like a physical blow. She searched his eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation, any hint that he wasn’t fully committed to this dangerous path he was choosing. But all she found was a resolute determination, a fire that she had come to admire and fear in equal measure.

“Honor doesn’t mean much if you’re not alive to carry it,” she said softly, her heart aching at the thought of losing him. “I just… I don’t want to lose you too.”

Troy’s gaze softened at her words, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken feelings. “You won’t,” he said, a promise lacing his tone. “I’ll find something, build something. And in the mean time you stay at PADRE and keep Tracy safe for me.”

A silence fell over them, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the night outside.

The question lingered in the air, charged with emotion. “Do you miss him?” Y/n asked softly after a while, her voice barely above a whisper.

Troy’s gaze dropped to the floor, his brow furrowing as he considered her question. “Every day,” he admitted, his voice low and steady but tinged with an underlying sadness. “I think about Jake all the time—what he would have done in this situation, how he would’ve handled things. Sometimes it feels like I can still hear his words of insufferable fucking wisdom.”

Y/n watched him, her heart aching for the weight of his grief.

She tried to imagine the words Jake would say, but she couldn’t seem to get his voice quite right. It had already slipped through her fingers. She had forgotten what he sounded like, even struggling to imagine his face.

And it wouldn’t have brought tears to her eyes if she hadn’t been staring into the eyes of someone who she was also about to lose

“I remember how hopeful he was,” she said, her own memories flashing through her mind. “He believed in the good in people, in the world. It’s hard to substantiate that with everything we’ve seen since.”

Troy nodded, but there was a deeper darkness in his eyes, one that spoke of guilt. “He could have survived longer. If I hadn’t created that herd… If I just hadn’t been me, he might still be here.” The remorse hung heavy in the air.

Y/n felt a pang in her chest at his admission. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Troy, you were very ill back then. You needed help, even before, but your dad was too proud to seek it for you. You were fighting battles no one else could see”

His expression tightened, “I’m still responsible. I could have done something different.”

“Look at the man you’ve become,” Y/n said, her voice steady and soothing. “You’ve fought to build something good out of the ashes of what happened. You protect those who need it. Jake wouldn’t want you to carry this guilt around for the rest of your life. He’d want you to live, to honor his memory by making the world better, not by drowning in guilt.”

“Like Alicia is doing.” He said bitterly.

We shared a long, contemplative look. Troy’s gaze was thoughtful, his eyes softening. Blaming Alicia was easy for him, but he knew he couldn’t do it for much longer. Alicia was out there helping people, and no matter how you look at it, Serena’s death wasn’t entirely her fault.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out and took his best friend’s hand in his again. She looked down at their clasped hands, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Troy said quietly, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability that was rare for him. He knew this would only make his departure harder but he just felt a great need to say it “About how much things have changed, and how much they haven’t. About what’s important.”

She squeezed his hand gently, encouraging him to continue. “And?”

He met her eyes again, his grip tightening slightly. “I’ve been thinking about everything we’ve been through. And I realize that… I’ve been holding back.”

She could feel my heart quicken, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside her. “Holding back from what?”

Troy took a deep breath, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “From saying what’s been on m-.”

He didn’t finish his sentence when he abruptly looked up and sniffed the air.

It smelled like smoke , fire. He quickly jumped into action and ran to the main hall.

A pile of books had ignited, and the sparks from the old wiring danced ominously over it.

Troy’s voice boomed through the room “everyone up and outside.” He yelled, but no one was standing up quick enough for his liking “Now!”

Y/N frantically looked for Tracy in the dark

“Tracy!” She called out, her voice wavering with concern.

She pushed through the haze of smoke, her eyes straining to find the small girl. Throat burning with the stinging smoke, but she couldn’t stop. The chaotic scene around her blurred as she forced herself to stay focused.

Finally, she spotted Tracy huddled by a bookshelf, her eyes wide with fear. She rushed over, scooping the girl up in her arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We need to get outside, now.”

Troy was already shouting orders, his authoritative voice cutting through the chaos. “Get the children and the others out of here! Now!”

She ran towards the exit with Tracy clinging tightly to her. The heat from the flames was intense, and the smoke made it difficult to breathe. She pushed through, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As they burst out into the cool night air, she set Tracy down gently, keeping a close eye on her. She looked up at me with wide, anxious eyes. “Is it safe?”

I nodded, trying to sound reassuring despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “It’s going to be okay. We’re outside now.”

Troy emerged from the building and quickly joined them, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure everyone was accounted for.

“Is everyone out?” She asked, my voice trembling slightly.

He ignored her for a second. In his defense, he didn’t even register her question as he walked towards his secretary “Russel!” he called out, spotting the black haired man near one of the supply trucks.

Russel turned toward him, dazed, as if lost in the frantic atmosphere.

“Russel,” Troy said, moving toward him quickly. “Have you seen Ambrose and his grandson? They joined us a few weeks ago.. yea high, grey beard, lots of moles. Five year old grandson.” His voice was tight, every second pressing against his patience.

Russel blinked, his brow furrowed as he glanced around, clearly struggling to piece things together in the heat of the moment. “I… I don’t know, how this- how could this have happened.”

Troy’s expression grew sterner, his jaw clenched, and he grabbed Russel’s arm, pulling him from his haze. “Focus, Russel! Do you know where they are? Did you see them leave the library?”

Russel’s eyes widened with realization, his face paling. “I—yeah, I saw them… but… inside, last I checked he was taking his grandson to the bathroom because he’s scared of the-.”

The words hit Troy like a punch, ‘inside and near the bathroom’ all the info he needed. “Damn it,” he hissed, not wasting a second longer. He turned and bolted toward the burning building, taking off his jacket and tying it around his nose and mouth to try and breathe as little smoke as possible.

“Dad!” Tracy screamed, her voice filled with raw panic as she chased after him, her feet barely keeping up with her desperate heartbeat.

Y/N acted instinctively, grabbing Tracy before she could run into danger. “Tracy, stop!” she pulled Tracy back into her arms, holding her tight as she thrashed and kicked.

“Let go of me! He’ll die!” Tracy wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks as her fists pounded weakly against Y/N’s chest. “Dad!”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her vision blurred by the tears that welled up. “He’ll come back,” she said, her voice trembling, though she wasn’t sure if she was telling Tracy or herself. “He’s coming back.”

The crowd had gone silent, all eyes locked on the inferno where Troy had disappeared. The building creaked and groaned under the weight of the flames, the heat so intense Y/N could feel it radiating even from where they stood. Her heart pounded, each second an eternity as they waited.

Tracy was sobbing into her shoulder,

Suddenly, a figure emerged through the thick smoke, stumbling out of the doorway.

Troy.

Y/N gasped, relief flooding through her as she spotted him. He had Ambrose’s arm slung over one shoulder and his grandson at his hip, both coughing but alive. Troy’s face was smeared with soot, his eyes red from the smoke, but he was seemingly unharmed.

The crowd exhaled collectively, a wave of disbelief and gratitude washing over them.

“Dad!” Tracy cried, breaking free from Y/N’s hold and running toward him as soon as he sat Ambrose and his grandson down safely.

Troy crouched, catching her in his arms, his face still tense with the weight of what had just happened, but the relief was clear in his eyes. He held her tightly, murmuring reassurances as she sobbed into his chest.

Y/N stepped forward as soon as Tracy broke away from him, relief flooding her as she reached Troy, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “You gave me a fright, you jerk,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “You could have died in there.”

He held her close, his heart racing from the adrenaline of the rescue and the close call. “I’m fine, really,” he said, trying to keep the mood light.

She tilted her head “How do your lungs feel?”

“I feel better than ever!” With that, he did a silly little dance, tapping his feet to the ground and throwing jazz hands in a ridiculous manner.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh despite her worry, shaking her head at him. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, her voice a mixture of exasperation and affection. “And ridiculous”

Meanwhile, the couple of doctors rushed over to check on Ambrose and his grandson, who were both coughing slightly. Nurse Debra assisted them flawlessly.

Y/N stepped back, her eyes darting proudly between them as she watched her medical team at work like a well oiled machine.

One of the doctors, the husband, took Ambrose’s vitals, frowning slightly as he listened to his chest with a stethoscope. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

Ambrose nodded, though he looked exhausted. “Just a little cough. I think we inhaled some smoke, but we got out just in time thanks to Troy.”

The doctor nodded, his expression serious but relieved. “We’ll get you checked out properly, but it seems like the damage is minimal.” He glanced at the grandson, who was still coughing but otherwise appeared okay.

Y/N stepped closer to the young boy, crouching down to his level. “Hey there, buddy,” she said softly. “How are you feeling? Did you breathe in a lot of smoke?”

He shook his head, his eyes wide and teary. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Y/N replied gently, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “But you’re safe now. We’ll get you to safety and properly checked out, yes?”

The boy nodded as she stood up again.

Y/N walked over to Troy, who was making his rounds to check on everyone. As she approached, she listened to him finish up a conversation with a family, his voice steady and comforting.

“Trust me, you’re safe now,” he said, offering a reassuring smile. “We’ve found a permanent place for our community. You’ll have everything you need there.”

Once the family had expressed their gratitude and moved on, Y/N stepped closer. “Hey,” she said softly, concern etching her features. “Is everyone okay now?”

“Yes, we’re all safe. I should’ve known that when we found out the lights still worked, it was too good to be true.” His voice was thick with frustration,

I looked back at the library, my heart heavy with a mix of relief and sorrow. The fire crackled and roared, consuming the structure in a way that felt almost poetic yet tragic. Like the library of Alexandria. Lost were the literature and information of our old world.

I knew we didn’t have much time. The fire would draw walkers like moths to a flame, and we needed to move quickly before they closed in on us.

“I guess now is as good a time as any,” I said, shrugging to mask my unease. I walked over to one of the cars, the metal cool beneath my touch as I reached for the radio. “Medical staff, can I get a ride with me?” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Lead the way, boss,” I added, attempting to inject a bit of levity into the moment as I prepared to drive to PADRE with the first light of dawn.

——————————————————-

Taglist

@elleirbag50 @aldenenjoyer @escapist-of-fiction

Let me know if you want to be added!

————

I’m sorry, this was a very long rollercoaster of a chapter. I do hope you enjoyed. It won’t be long for the next one.

Let me know what you liked and didn’t like

[plus-size-reader]

Peace

Troy Otto x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3842 words

Warnings: None

Summary: The reader comes across Troy’s notebook while he’s out, and notices something strange. 

—————————————————————————————————

You hadn’t meant to snoop.

Jake had asked you to find Troy, said he had to talk to him but didn’t have the time to track him down. He was a busy man, after all, and if Jeremiah needed help, he couldn’t exactly make him wait.

So, you agreed.

You took off toward Troy’s room, assuming that given the time of day and schedule for rounds, that was where he would be.

He wasn’t.

His bedroom was unoccupied by the time you reached it, but not empty.

On the floor, out of place in the immaculate space, was that leather-bound notebook he carried with him all the time. It was one of his most prized possessions and you knew he would be missing it, if he didn’t realize it was gone.

That was it.

By all accounts, you were trying to do something nice. You figured it had fallen out of his back pocket when he was getting dressed or rushing out the door to get to his post.

You had to find him anyway, so when you did, you could take it to him.

It was innocent, at least, at first.

You had only good intentions and you weren’t even going to open it, but almost on instinct, as soon as you touched the leather, you flipped open the front cover. Whether out of curiosity or habit, you weren’t sure but it didn’t matter.

All that mattered as soon as it was open was the ink, dried to the page and committing his every thought, as if recording for posterity.

On the first page, he’d written his name, followed by a date. If you had to guess, you’d say that was the day he obtained it.

It was interesting.

Troy’s handwriting was delicate and even, and you could tell that he put time into every single letter and number. Like he knew they would be there forever and couldn’t handle a mistake.

You smiled, letting yourself sit at the foot of his bed, your fingers tracing each letter as you read them.

For the most part, his notebook was filled with what you would have expected. Factual scribblings and miscellaneous numbers that held no meaning to anyone other than Troy.

In all honesty, you barely understood what you were looking at.

…but it didn’t matter.

Troy had been carrying this time with him everywhere he went since you’d met him, and never once had you held it like this. Never had you looked upon the pages, or even asked what he was always writing.

You just let him keep his secrets, because everyone had something that was just for them, but now that you were seeing it, you didn’t regret picking it up.

No matter how wrong it was.

You felt like, for what was probably the first time, you were seeing Troy for who he was and he wasn’t even in the room with you.

The next few pages were less interesting, though just as telling, with every inch of the paper covered with dates and times.

The watch schedule.

After that, you found what seemed to be a detailed list of miscellanious items, and quantities that had to be supply logs from his runs. You could tell because of the delicate little checks beside each thing, telling you he'd cataloged them.

That was who Troy was.

Organized and meticulous, even when he was within his own private thoughts.

It continued on like that for a while. Page after page full of numbers, little symbols and time stamps, but you didn’t skip over a single one. You took your time considering each little marking, far more than you’d ever studied anything in your life.

It was almost as if you were reading a roadmap and you couldn't forget a single detail, which in a way, you were.

This notebook was a reflection of Troy, and not just who he presented to people on the outside, but the real Troy.

This was the closest thing he’d ever keep to a personal journal, and while it didn’t contain any written feeling or sentiment, you could feel it.

With each word you read, and each number you attempted to quantify, you got it. You understood who he was, more and more.

In a way that he could never have expressed to your face.

You were remarkably relaxed as you read, considering you were actively betraying the personal privacy of one of your closest friends, but that all came to a screeching halt as you neared the center of the book.

There, above everything else you’d seen so far, you found something that surprised you. Something within the collection of thoughts that actually confused you more than anything else had.

It was you.

There, on those worn pages, was you. Or, at the very least, some sort of tribute to you. The resemblance was stark, and you couldn’t have explained it away if you tried.

Which obviously wasn’t what you expected.

Still, you didn’t move to make anything of it at first. You knew Troy well enough to know that there could very well be drawings of every single person he’d ever seen hidden within the covers.

Maybe he just didn’t want to forget the people he knew. Maybe he didn’t want to forget their faces.

That would have been a perfectly reasonable thing to do considering the world you lived in, and how frequently people left your lives.

The second drawing was harder to explain away, and by the time you reached a seventh page, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

They were all of you.

Each one was different, and just as great a resemblance, but they were all of you.

You could feel your face scrunch up slightly as you considered what you were looking at, before eventually turning back to the first drawing of many and just looking at it for a while.

It was good.

A simple pencil sketch, with harsher lines and shading in some areas, where Troy had deemed necessary and softer, lighter emphaisis on others. Complete, of course, with the date in the corner.

It looked a lot like you.

The first one, the one that had caught your attention in the first place, was of your face. There was a soft, almost serene smile on your face and you looked happy.

You looked pretty, if you could look pretty in a pencil drawing.

The second was farther away, and featured you in the middle of cleaning your hand gun on the picnic table. The third was of you reading, your back against the shed and a sharp look of concentration on your face.

Did you really twist your face up like that when you read? You must have.

There were a few others, all capturing you as you existed, in the exact way you must have looked and you couldn’t help but feel like you were watching yourself through Troy’s eyes.

It was strange.

Still, you didn’t stop your quest and continued looking from page to page, until you came to the most recent drawing.

The last drawing in the set.

This one featured you, sitting in front of a roaring fire with the full expanse of the desert at your back. By all means, it was no different than the others, but for some reason, it felt different as you studied it.

You looked peaceful, almost comfortable, with a wide smile on your face and it would be a lie to say that you didn’t find it beautiful.

It was.

That was when it dawned on you.

You remembered this, remembered sitting in the dirt like you were on the page, telling the militia jokes and listening to their stories about what life was like for them before the fall.

Troy had been so quiet that night. This notebook of his had his full attention the entire night, and at the time, you thought he was taking notes, strategizing and planning out your next moves.

…but he wasn’t.

If the date in the corner of the page was correct, that meant he was doing this that whole time.

His mind wasn’t wondering to far away possibilities, or bloody disasters that no one could prevent except for him. His was watching you, studying the lines of your body and the contours of your face.

Listening to your voice and doing his best to capture the emotion on your face to the page, so that it didn’t have to live in his memories alone.

Wow.

You were quiet for a moment as you thought over the implications of this, or if they were any implications at all, only stopping when you heard the sound of Troy’s truck coming up the road.

It had to be him.

It was always him.

At the sudden distraction, you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding after a moment, and forced yourself to close the notebook, but you didn’t put it down.

You couldn’t.

For some reason, you felt like if you allowed the leather to separate from your fingers, it would go away somehow. Like, if you set it down, what you now knew would be lost to you forever.

So, rather than be caught in his room without explanation, you tucked the book into your back pocket, where Troy often kept it on his own body, and left.

In a lot of ways, it was the perfect crime.

There was no way that Troy could actually prove that you had been in his room, and considering the fact that you were sure he didn’t realize his journal was missing, he wouldn’t know you’d seen it.

He didn’t have to know.

…but part of you didn’t want that.

Part of you didn’t want to get away with what you’d done, to get away with reading his notebook and learning what you had without something changing.

Everything had changed.

This proved it, whether Troy meant for it to or not.

~

You decided not to say anything at first.

Not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t know how. It wasn’t as if you could just go up to him and ask why he’d been sketching scarily accurate portraits of you in his spare time.

So, until you could make up your mind about what you wanted to do, you decided to do nothing.

Instead, you focused your energy forward toward where Troy was, unloading his pack and guns from the back of the truck with Cooper and Blake.

They weren’t scheduled for a run this morning, at least, not to your knowledge but you didn’t have time to care about that. The important thing was that they just got back and they were too preoccupied to notice you.

…but you weren’t preoccupied.

Not anymore.

In fact, as you looked upon Troy at this moment, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. Like, you finally had a point of reference for how he thought and what happened inside his head when he got all quiet.

Like you were looking at a brand-new person.

You tried to think back to the way he looked at you, looking over that notebook of his, that soft concentration consuming everything else around him. Maybe if you saw the world like that, it would be better.

If you saw him the way he saw you.

In your head, Troy had always been this untouchable force. He was stoic and solid, barking orders and burying everything he felt no matter how unpleasant it may have been, but that wasn’t all there was to him.

There couldn’t be.

As you watched him and took note of the way his face faltered as he scanned the crowd, you saw it. A glimmer of something that wasn’t quite as untouchable as you would have thought.

He was unsure, and given the way, he winced slightly after slugging on his pack, tired too but that wasn’t all. There was a silent joy in the way he wiped the blood from his hands and a whisper of adrenaline clear from the pep in his step.

How was it possible?

Had he always been this complex and you’d just managed to miss it? Or was it simpler than that? Maybe you didn’t want to notice because you couldn’t handle the gamble.

You couldn’t handle being let down, not by Troy. He was too important to you, and if you were to fall too hard, you knew you’d never be able to claw your way back up.

Not that you had much of a choice now.

You had picked up that notebook, and there was no taking that back. The most you could do now was keep going, and deal with what followed with as much grace as you could muster.

“Hey, there you are”

It was the sound of Troy’s voice that brought you out of your head, but not in time to actually prepare yourself for having to face him.

The best you could do was smile, desperately hoping that your face didn’t look as guilty and conflicted as you felt.

“Yeah, here I am,” you tried, willing yourself to focus on the conversation at hand and not on the way the midday sun made his eyes sparkle. Was he watching you like you were watching him?

Stop it.

“I was supposed to tell you to find Jake. He was looking for you” you forced, giving the blonde a soft smile before continuing on your way, brushing past him only slightly in your hurry.

You couldn’t do this.

How were you supposed to just go about your life like you didn’t know he was silently studying every little thing about you?

How did you do that?

“Y/N, wait up. What’s going on?” Troy called out, shocked by your uncharacteristic briefness and evidently choosing this very moment to start caring about other people’s feelings.

Perfect.

You stopped, considering your options for a second as you waited for him to meet your side, his boots keeping time with his usual stride.

On one hand, you could just abandon your original plan and tell him about the notebook, confess that you’d read it and that you had seen the drawings. On the other hand, you could keep it hidden and say nothing, but that was a bandage at best.

Eventually, you would have to give it back.

So, you took a deep breath and made up your mind. Today was going to be the day that you faced Troy Otto and the feelings you had for him that you’d been steadily burying since you’d met.

You didn’t have any other choice.

It was unceremonious, all things considered, the way you just pulled the small book from your pocket but you didn’t really care. Of all the things currently fighting for the top spot in your mind, finesse didn’t even crack the top ten.

There was no getting away from this and the longer you tried to play it off, the worse it was going to be for both of you.

There was probably a perfectly casual explanation that you just had yet to consider. All you could know for sure right now was that you were never going to know if you didn’t give Troy a chance to explain himself.

“You found it” he allowed, gingerly taking the book from your hands and inspecting it lightly before returning it back to where it belonged.

Safely away in the back pocket of his jeans, away from prying eyes like yours.

“Yeah, I found it.” you could practically feel your blood dropping in temperature as you forced yourself to take the leap. “And I read it too”

Troy’s blood ran cold as soon as you spoke.

You read it? What did that mean? Most of what he’d cataloged in that book wasn’t something you would have been able to understand, even with as clever as you happened to be.

It was an extension of what happened inside his head, and if he was being honest, Troy was lucky he could understand what he’d written most of the time.

It wasn’t possible that you’d read it.

It just wasn’t possible.

“What do you mean?” his words were much more pensive this time, as he waited for you to explain yourself.

Troy was smart, and he knew better than to incriminate himself, even if technically he hadn’t done anything wrong. The drawings were creepy, sure, but not necessarily disallowed.

“It’s a good likeness. It could have been a lot worse. I mean, I didn’t even know you could draw” you shrugged, telling him everything he needed to know without having to actually admit to what you both knew out loud.

It was the most painless option, but knowing that didn’t stop Troy from panicking as he considered what this might mean for the two of you in the future. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you for whatever choice you made.

He’d crossed a line, again.

“You weren’t supposed to see those” he tried, ultimately preparing himself for the yelling or screaming that would follow your discovery.

It was strange.

Troy knew that when he started the sketches, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop once he’d started. There was just something about you, and the way you looked when you were completely in your element.

It was like the rest of the world fell away, and even if for a moment, he wanted to capture it.

…but there was no way for him to explain that to you without making the whole thing a lot worse than it already was.

After all, the only thing more inappropriate than drawing you without your permission or awareness would be justifying it with unreciprocated feelings of admiration.

Feelings he could hardly rectify within his own head, let alone out loud to you.

“Why do you draw them?” you wondered, heading back down the hill toward your own cabin, Troy following you gingerly.

You had no idea what you were doing here, or what difference this whole thing would make but you knew that you had to talk about it. You had to figure out where to go from here, and you’d rather do it without an audience.

This definitely wasn’t the business of anyone else at the ranch.

He sighed, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you moved, making no motion to say anything else until he spoke. “Got bored” he tried, his voice wavering in a way you’d never heard before.

“Don’t lie. It’s okay, I just want to know why” you shrugged, practically pleading with him to tell you the truth.

You didn’t blame him for assuming the worst. That was just who Troy was, and who he would always be, but you weren’t angry with him for this.

You were just surprised.

Most of the drawings, kept between important data he’d collected, were of you out in the world, going about your day and unaware that you were being watched.

Which, to some, may have been unsettling but you didn’t think so. You knew Troy and you knew that in order for him to put the time and effort into these, they were important to him.

Because you were important to him.

All you wanted was to hear him say it.

“Truth?” he hummed, more for himself than you as he bought just a little more time before you finally stopped, just far enough away from the center of the ranch to have some privacy.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way his gaze shifted around your face before finally dropping to the dirt.

“You’re real. Real and beautiful” Troy shrugged, in what had to be the most pitiful attempt at minimizing himself that you’d ever seen.

This wasn’t who he was.

Troy was strong and self-assured. You had never seen him doubt a decision or second guess a choice once in all the time you’d known him unless that was just another one of his illusions you’d never looked twice at.

Sensing you weren’t content with just that, he continued, laying his soul bare in a way you’d never expected.

Not from him.

“You know that feeling when you’re staring them down out there, and you know that if you make one wrong move or miss anything, that will be it?” he questioned, clearly referencing the dead and the thrill he got from the sick little game of chicken you’d had to put a stop to quite a few times before.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me?” you started, only to stop again when Troy continued, “The feeling after, when they’re all dead and everything is okay again…that’s how I feel when I’m around you”

Troy paused, his eyes meetings yours for a moment as he breathed, clearly trying to gauge your reaction to his confession so far.

He found nothing.

You knew the feeling he was talking about. The relief that flooded your body when the adrenaline peaked after the danger had already faded away and you could revel in what you’d accomplished.

…but the drawings.

You didn’t understand how they were related.

So, clearly following your train of thought, Troy fished the book out of his pocket and opened it, pausing only briefly before showing you the page he’d ended on.

It was further along in the journal than you’d gotten in your initial search this morning but it would seem that there was a reason for that.

It was another drawing of you.

This time, you were curled up in your sleeping bag, fast asleep. It wasn’t entirely different from any of the others, but considering that it was the one he’d chosen, you knew it was special.

It was his favorite.

This was the first one he’d drawn. The one that had started the habit that he’d yet to break, even now.

You had been out with the rest of the militia. Under his direction, you’d wandered too far away from the ranch and bunked down for the night in a cave, but for the life of him, Troy couldn’t sleep.

He couldn’t quiet his mind and he certainly couldn’t have hoped to get any sleep, so he picked up his notebook. At first, he was just going to read over his notes from the outpost, but then he glanced over at you.

You were too peaceful and too beautiful. It made him feel something he’d never felt and some part of him felt like if he didn’t commemorate it somewhere, that feeling would just slip away and he didn’t want to let it go.

He couldn't let it go.

“I won’t say I love you, because I don’t think I’d know even if I did, but I draw these because they remind me of what I do it for,” Troy muttered, admiring the graphite as if he’d done it a hundred times before, and maybe he had.

“They remind me of what peace feels like”

[maraudereestauderelb]

What are the Chances VII (Troy Otto)

Final part :)

Tag list: @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Masterlist

Warning: violence, guns, smut

The sun was beginning to set when Troy and the others finally returned from their mission. Y/N had been on edge all day, waiting to hear if they made it back safely. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw them approaching, but something felt off. They were covered in dried blood, their clothes torn and dirty. The tension between them was thick, and Y/N could sense something had gone wrong out there. 

As the men climbed off their horses, one of them—a guy named Carter—laughed loudly, breaking the silence. "Man, we were this close to getting our asses handed to us! Thought we were goners for sure, huh?" He nudged Troy, grinning as if the whole thing had been a joke. 

Troy didn’t respond. His face was pale, eyes locked on Carter, his entire body rigid. 

Y/N watched from a distance, her stomach knotting. Something about the way Troy was standing set off alarms in her head. His hand twitched toward the gun strapped to his waist, and before anyone could react, he yanked it out, pointing it directly at Carter’s head. 

“You think it’s funny?” Troy’s voice was low, deadly calm. His blue eyes burned with rage. “You think almost gettin’ us killed is somethin’ to laugh about?” 

The men around them froze. Carter’s smile faded instantly, his hands coming up in surrender. “Whoa, man—Troy, it was a joke. Just a joke.” 

Troy stepped closer, his gun still aimed at Carter’s face, his finger dangerously close to the trigger. “You were supposed to cover me,” he growled, his voice shaking with barely contained fury. “You almost got us all killed because you weren’t paying attention. And now you wanna laugh about it?” 

A small crowd began to gather around them—some of the ranch kids, Jeremiah, Jake, and other workers. Even Y/N could feel the ripple of fear spreading through the group. No one dared to step in. 

Despite the way her heart pounded in her chest, despite the way her hands trembled at the sight of Troy’s gun, Y/N knew she had to do something. She couldn’t let this spiral out of control. 

“Troy!” she called out, forcing her voice to sound calm, steady. She moved slowly toward him, careful not to startle him. “Troy, look at me.” 

He didn’t respond at first, his focus still locked on Carter. His hand clenched the gun so tightly that Y/N feared he might pull the trigger out of sheer rage. 

“Troy,” she said again, stepping closer now, close enough to reach out. “It’s over. You’re back. You’re safe.” She spoke slowly, her voice gentle but firm. “Put the gun down.” 

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if he even heard her. His eyes were wild, consumed by anger and something darker. But then, he blinked. His gaze flickered toward her, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. 

“Please,” Y/N whispered, her voice softer now, full of concern. 

Troy’s chest heaved as he looked at her, his expression torn between fury and something else—something vulnerable. His hand, still holding the gun, began to tremble. Y/N took a careful step forward, her hand hovering over his, ready to guide it down. 

“You don’t need to do this,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving his: “Let it go.” 

Slowly, as if coming out of a trance, Troy’s grip on the gun loosened. He lowered the weapon, his breathing heavy and uneven. For a moment, he looked lost, unsure of what had just happened. Without another word, he turned and walked away from the group, disappearing toward the far end of the ranch, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. 

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Around her, the tension began to ease, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Jeremiah, who had been watching the whole scene, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked between Y/N and the direction Troy had gone. 

“That boy’s a mess,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But you…” He paused, studying her carefully. “You can calm him down. I’ve never seen anyone do that.” 

Y/N swallowed, still trying to steady her own nerves. 

Jeremiah gave her a long, thoughtful look. “I’ll remember that.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but she nodded, her mind still spinning from what had just happened. As she looked out at the ranch, where the last traces of daylight were fading into dusk, her thoughts turned back to Troy. She didn’t know what had triggered him or why she had been able to reach him when no one else could. 

But one thing was clear—Troy Otto was more dangerous and complicated than she had realized. And somehow, she had become part of whatever storm was brewing inside him.    -----O----- 

The night was dark and still when Y/N finally settled into the small wooden hut she shared with Leona. The muffled sound of laughter drifted in from the main house, where Leona and Mike were celebrating the return of the men. Y/N had excused herself early, her mind still spinning from the events of the day, especially the way Troy had almost killed Carter. Even now, hours later, the image of his furious face, his hand on the trigger, haunted her. 

She sighed, pulling her blanket tighter around her, trying to focus on anything other than the whirlwind of emotions Troy stirred in her. But as she was about to drift off, the door creaked open with a soft click. 

Her heart leapt into her throat, and before she could react, Troy stepped into the room, his figure barely visible in the dim light. His presence was like a force, filling the small space with an energy that was unsettling and electric all at once. 

“Troy?” she whispered, sitting up quickly, her voice trembling with surprise. “What the hell? You scared me!” 

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he closed the door quietly behind him, his movements unnervingly controlled, but his eyes—his eyes were wild, flickering with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, which was still matted with dirt and dried blood. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his whole body tense as if on the verge of snapping. “Didn’t want anyone to see me like this.” 

“Troy... what are you doing here?” Y/N asked, her voice soft but steady despite her pounding heart. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet touching the cool floor as she stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

He took a few erratic steps toward her, his hand clutching the back of a chair as if to keep himself grounded. “How can they not see it?” His voice was a harsh whisper, filled with frustration. “Everything I do—every horrible, messed up thing I’ve done—it’s to protect them. To protect all of us. And they just... laugh. Like none of it matters. Like I don’t matter.” His blue eyes were burning, filled with a turmoil that sent shivers through Y/N. ��They don’t understand. But you...” 

He trailed off, his gaze locking onto hers. There was something raw in his expression, something desperate and broken. He stepped closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, her body freezing under his intense stare. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he repeated, softer this time, almost ashamed. “But I can’t—” His voice broke, and he let out a shaky breath. “I need you to keep me from going over the edge, Y/N. You’re the only thing that keeps me... sane.” 

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully in her chest. She could see it now—the weight of everything Troy carried, the anger, the guilt, the fear. She stood, closing the small distance between them, her hand gently touching his arm. “Troy,” she whispered, “you’re not alone. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.” 

His eyes flickered at her touch, and in a heartbeat, he pulled her against him, his grip tight, almost desperate. His hands trembled as they held her, and Y/N could feel the raw emotion radiating from him—rage, sadness, and something deeper, something vulnerable. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he muttered against her hair, his voice strained. “But I’m afraid I will. I always hurt people.” 

Y/N pulled back slightly, just enough to look up into his face. “You haven’t hurt me, Troy,” she whispered, though her heart was racing. “You think I’m afraid of you, but I’m not.” 

His blue eyes locked onto hers, conflicted. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. And then, almost instinctively, Troy’s lips crashed against hers, full of urgency and raw need. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t soft—his kiss was filled with all the emotions he had kept buried inside, and Y/N found herself responding, kissing him back with just as much intensity. 

Their bodies pressed together as the kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands found their way to his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble, the tension in his jaw. His hands roamed down her back, gripping her waist as if afraid she might slip away. They stumbled toward the bed, their breaths quickening, their movements frantic and uncoordinated as they peeled off layers of clothing, the desperation in their actions undeniable. 

When they finally fell onto the bed, Troy paused, hovering over her, his chest heaving, his eyes dark with desire but clouded with uncertainty. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if even now, he doubted himself. 

Y/N’s hand reached up to cup his face, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “I’m sure,” she whispered back, her heart thudding in her chest. She pulled him down into another kiss, softer this time.

One of his hands slid down to her core. “Feels like you’re ready for me", he smirked and she nodded as a silent scream escaped her lips when he moved his finger inside of her before he slipped it out again. 

Troy pulled his boxershorts off with hectic movements and kneeled over her for just a moment. Taking it all in before he took hold of his hard shaft and positioned it on h r entrance before he slowly slid into her, causing her to gasp as every inch stretched her open and filled her up. Troy groaned watching her, waiting for her to get used to his size. 

She moaned at the fullness and finally grew accustomed to the feeling of his thick cock splitting her open. Troy braced his hands against the worn out matress and slowly started to move. 

“Oh fuck”, he cursed a long moan rolling off his tongue as her head lulled back, sexy moans and whimpers filling his ears. 

“Yeah that's it, baby,”, he growled making her whimper at his words. She couldn't speak due to the intensity of pleasure so she just nodded. 

“Words baby, use your words”, he protested giving her ass a smack before slamming down into her, roughly.  

“Fuck yes. You feel so good”, she whispered moving her body as best as she could underneath his weight. 

Troy looked down to where both were connected, a growl leaving him while he watched himself slide in and out of her. 

“Fuck, you're so goddamn beautiful”, he exhaled breathlessly. She closed her eyes with her head falling back exposing her neck to him. Quickly he dragged his tongue down her neck, sucking sensitive bruises and covering her with pink, yellow and red. Her core clenched around him, making him grunt, his body shuttering and his breath becoming more and more uneven. 

“Oh god...”, he whined, the pleasure overwhelming him. He could already feel himself getting closer to the edge, his cock twitching inside her. Troy could feel her body getting weak while his thrusts started to slow down. 

Before she could say anything he rammed his hips into her with force making her squeal at the unexpected shoot of bliss to her core. 

“Fuck, Troy...”, she whimpered out his name while his sharp teeth bit down on her shoulder as he used everything in him to fuck into her senselessly. Her body crumbling at his fast movements. Her fingers disappeared into his sweaty, thick hair and pulled his face down to her, his lips connecting with hers. 

“I'm so fucking close”, he moaned. 

“Cum for me, baby”, he told her and her body responded to his order immediately. The contractions of her walls sent him over the edge as well, both a sweaty and moaning mess while he was lazily moving inside of her through their highs. 

He collapsed on top of her but she loved how his weight pushed her into the matress and how his arms wrapped around her so she couldn't escape. 

Their breaths started to slowly even out. For a long time, neither of them spoke, the quiet settling over them like a blanket. 

“You make me feel like I’m not completely lost,” he muttered quietly, his voice thick with exhaustion.

Y/N smiled softly, her hand resting over his, her own heart racing but full of a strange sense of peace. “Maybe we’ll figure it out together,” she whispered, letting herself close her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she believed her own words whole-heartedly, but she wanted to, longed to. It surely wasn’t impossible. After all he had found her when she had been lost outside of the ranch in a broken world and what had the chances for that been?