#troy otto x oc

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

2 Of A Kind Ch. 3

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Fem receiving

There may or may not be a part 4... need to see how people feel about it. ALSO! Shoutout to all the GIF makers out there for giving me so many options and I love you all... I still feel the need to use the same one repeatedly, but you all help me fight that urge!

This is made for THIS anon request!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

“Can I help you with that?”

Troy’s eyes grew dark, feeling his senses begin to tunnel into her and her alone. The woman merely smiled, adjusting herself under the blanket to the side. Her cheeks burned with a fury of confusion and anticipation as she stared back into the blue eyes watching her. “I mean-” Troy shuffled his feet lazily towards the right side of the mattress, closest to the woman. “You helped me so it’s only polite of me to offer my assistance. That is - if you want me to help. Not to be frank but, I could do a bit better than what you were doing.” Troy cocked his head to the side with a crooked smile when the woman scoffed exaggeratingly at his remark. It had been some time, if ever, that anyone had made him feel like this.

Powerful.

“Come’er,” She whispered to him, a voice sending shivers down his spine, but Troy followed her order. The mattress slunk down from his weight, dipping the two into one pothole in the middle. Her fingers ghosted over his hand, the wound on it open to the warm air. His eyes flinched at the sting that rang up his extremity as she placed the hand to her lips, gently kissing the inflamed skin while looking up at him through dark eyelashes. with a twist of his hand, Troy caressed the woman’s cheek, feeling the heat radiate from her dewy skin. Their eyes never broke until Troy lowered his gaze to her lips, softer than he thought they’d be, swiping one calloused digit across the delicate flesh.

With a smooth lick of his lips, Troy initiated the kiss. Pressing his flesh upon her own, feeling her warmth and hearing the ever-so-silent moan that escaped her lips against his. He thought about going slow. He thought about taking it easy with her and not being so forceful, but the sound she made turned him into something more than he thought he was. Deepening the kiss, Troy licked at her bottom lip begging for permission.

Denied.

He could feel her lips pull at the sides, smirking against his touch. This was a game.

A hand found its way to the base of her neck, his fingers dancing along her spine until she felt his way into her hair. Troy took a handful of lush locks, pulling it into a fist. Her body began to arch as her neck pulled back just enough to gain his awaiting tongue entry. His body began to barrel over her as she was lost in the feelings. She wasn’t one to ever relinquish control… yet, here she was. Allowing a stranger control over her body, and she liked it.

As Troy’s tongue ventured into the walls of her mouth, his free hand found its way up her chest, burning fingerprints into the skin he began to expose. With one final nip to her bottom lip, Troy backed away, his lips at least. His eyes regained control again, watching her once-hardened eyes turn soft and needy. The look she gave him through those dark eyelashes gave him the feeling of warmth… possessive… needed.

Fully collapsing into the soft sheet below, the woman gave up her fight. His touch felt too good to push away.

Watching his head dip below her chin, she felt his lips once again burn into her skin, just below her collarbone. His tongue swirled with small suctions traveling lower and lower. His nimble fingers pulled the blanket she was hiding under exposing both breasts to his full view. Troy glanced up, his fingers pinching the sensitive skin of her nipples.

He wanted to see her face as she let him do everything he wanted.

He wanted to see her vulnerable. He wanted to see her as his.

After a little while, he couldn’t take it any longer. Seeing her skin raised in goosebumps and her nipples formed into full points, Troy replaced his fingers with his lips. He hadn’t thought he had an oral fixation before, but the way his cock begged for his lips to have her, any part of her, was beginning to make the brunette re-think that. Her voice jumped when he sucked in a breath against her, biting harder than he had before. Her fingers weaved through the curly locks on Troy’s scalp, tugging ever so much with each moan that escaped her. Troy hadn’t realized that his hand had already found her most sensitive region until she shook under his grasp.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait!” She exclaimed, her fingers lifting his chin to look back at her. “If you’re going there, then I need something other than ‘fuck-boy’ to scream. So what’ll it be?”

Troy smirked, a devilish smirk, with one arm under his weight to keep him raised above her form. The hand that was at her core swiped the saliva from his lips before ghosting down her body, once more resting where he could see a glint of her slick dripping from. His eyes watched her skin react to his touch the entire time, her scars rough and coarse before his fingertips met more soft skin. He thought about toying with her, prolonging her wait for any form of identity of him, but he wanted to hear his name echo on those walls just as bad as she wanted sweet release.

“I’m Troy.”

As soon as he spoke, Troy delved two fingers into her core. Her hands fisted into his hair as he did so. He watched as her entire body arched from the mattress and her lips enchanted the delight of moaning his name. Enjoying the sight before him, Troy watched as she came to orgasm. His digits glided in and out of her sodden core, stretching the walls of her pussy farther with each spasm she had. As she began to clamp down, his thumb rubbed circles through her clit, only causing even more mess as she finally climaxed with a squirt of fluids soaking the bedding below her sweat-slickened skin.

She was a mess, a hot uncontrollable mess as she came back down from her high. She had completely forgotten she was even in company until she felt one strong arm tighten over her belly and soft curls itch across her cheeks. Troy knew she needed a little time, so kept himself busy making bruises to last her a few days on her neck. Once he felt her heart rate slow against his touch, he pulled back to look upon the magnificent work he had done. One arm, again held him up as the other moved slickened hair from the woman’s face. His eyes peered over her lips as he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from dazing before meeting her watchful gaze.

“I suppose I should thank you.” She spoke quietly, much softer than normal. Her mouth upturned into a shy smile before turning to look at the ceiling. Troy chuckled tenderly. This woman wasn’t at all who he thought she would be as he peeled back layer after layer.

“There’s no need, I’m here to help, ma’am.”

Troy rolled over to the edge of the mattress, swinging his legs over the side. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome so he figured it was off to the couch for another night. Then, a soft touch wrapped around his wrist.

“Why are you leaving? Did I-”

“I didn’t want to overstay or put you in a position to ask me to leave.”

Troy looked back at the woman from over his shoulder. She sat where he had left her, trying to hide her modesty behind entwined arms and legs. The look she returned was not one that he had assumed he would get. Her coy smile beckoned his feet to not move. Her eyes were like a siren making any thought he had of leaving melt away.

“I’m grateful, I truly am -” her hand that was on his wrist weaved through a belt loop, tugging at the fabric, “- I need more, Troy. And given by how tight those pants have gotten, I think you need more too.”

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #troy otto fanfic #troy otto x reader #troy otto smut #troy otto x oc #ftwd fanfic #ftwd #daniel sharman fic #smut #fem receiving

[luciddaizey]

Troy Otto FTWD3

GIFS ARE MINE, PLS GIVE CREDIT! <3

#ftwd #ftwd troy #troy otto #troy otto gif #troy otto smut #troy otto x reader #troy otto x oc #troy otto edit

[busylickingsatansballs]

The Lies We Tell.

Troy Otto x wife Trimbol reader

Summary: Y/N confronts Troy about their shared and complicated past, yes they're in love, yes he killed her whole family no this man can do no wrong. Don't come at me. Martha is a made up camp doctor.

Warnings: toxic, mentions of pregnancy, death, canon typical violence. Arguments, swearing and if you find anything else please lmk.

Troy couldn't remember how they'd got here, the back and fourth bickering had turned into a full blown argument. Y/N stomped into the tent Troy hot on her heels "because it's none of your business Troy." she shouted stopping in the middle huffing out a breath as she blew a stray hair out of her face.

God she was beautiful.

"none of my business? You're my wife." he spat "I deserve to know." she scoffed rolling her eyes.

"no you don't." she threw back balling her fists chest heaving from the intensity of their argument. "if you don't tell me I'll go find Martha and force her to tell me." Y/N scanned his face to see if he was serious, he was.

"cause that's your answer to everything isn't it, brute force. Tell me Troy, how well did that work out at the ranch?" Troy's face hardened.

"I'm not like that anymore, that was a mistake."

"all of it?"

"all of it." he repeated.

She shook her head "if you needed to know I would tell you." her voice was quiter. "you don't need to know not yet."

"I don't want you to leave me I wouldn't survive it not now. You have no idea how much power you have over me." he sounded pathetic but he didn't care.

"The feelings mutual believe me." Troy moved closer fingers dancing up her arm.

"You can always talk to me Y/N, always be honest."

She searched his gaze, face unreadable. "and you've always been honest with me? About everything?" she was digging, tone in her voice shifting suggesting she knew more than she let on.

He'd be a fool to lie now, but he did it anyway.

"Of course." Troy swallowed breaking under her scrutiny as the guilt weighed his eyes to the floor.

"Even what happened with Mike, Gretchen, my mom and dad." she knew. He dropped his arms from her skin but she didn't move away.

"How long?" he tried to speak but couldn't get out the words. I mean what would he say? 'Hey, How long have you known that I'm the reason you're an orphan.?' yeah no.

"Long enough." she whispered eyes dancing over his features, his eyes stayed down.

"I'm sorry." he started "I know." she didn't sound as upset as he'd thought.

"If I could go back-" she didn't let him finish that thought.

Carrying on speaking as if she hadn't heard him.

“I remember sitting there waiting, just waiting for this hate to take over and it just didn't. I still loved you, you killed my family and I married you, doesn't that tell you everything? And then it hit me there was nothing.”

Troy dared to look at her, she looked calm albeit slightly sweaty, her hair clung to her forehead stray curls framed her features.

"Nothing that you could ever do that could ever make me stop loving you.” she was crying now. He pulled her into his arms, relief flooding his system when she clung tighter to him.

"I didn't bring all this up as a guilt trip, I need you to understand that things are different now, I forgave you a long time ago. There are more important things to worry about now."

More important? What could possibly be bigger than this?

He didn't care.

He was too selfish to let her go. As long as she was willing he was going to try and if she wasn't maybe even then.

"I wish I could go back and change things I'd be different, be a better man for you. I need you, everyday you make me better."

He heard her sniffle, her shaky hands wiped her face as she took a step back to properly look him in the face.

"I'm pregnant."

Well shit.

#Troy otto imagine #fear the walking dead #ftwd #troy otto #daniel sharman #Zombies #i'm sorry for this #it came to me in a dream #Mike Trimbol #troy otto imagine #troy otto x oc #troy otto x reader #daniel sharman x reader #Daniel sharman imagine #slight spoilers #Angst #my imagines #gif not mine

[blvckqwz]

I was reading the most gut wrenching amazing fanfiction, like 2000 words per chapter, amazing grammar and spectacular plot type of shit. then I realised the last update was in 2017 and that the account doesn’t post anymore.

I’m grieving.

also I’m writing the second chapter of shadows so I’ll probably publish it either tomorrow or sunday

#fanfic #carl grimes fanfiction #twd x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x oc #twd fanfiction #carl grimes #the walking dead #bellamy blake x reader #kellyspeaks #troy otto x oc #troy otto x reader #ao3 stuff

[sunny-desk]

4,252 Days Chapter 1: Day 1, Pt 1

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Fic Summary: FTWD re-written to include an OC named Gemma who has a platonic relationship/friends with benefits situation with Nick Clark and then goes on to be with Troy Otto. Chapter Summary: Gemma sees a guy run into the road and get hit by a car Word Count: 1177 Author’s Note: This is a big commitment, hopefully I stick with it. I'm excited. Gif from here.

“Please say you’re calling with good news.” Gemma can feel the pre-emptive disappointment radiating through the phone, almost hotter than the 8AM summer sunshine beating down on her as she walks along the street.

“Hello, Olivia. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m doing well, thank you. How about you?” Sarcasm and semi-fake niceness hung on every word.

“Stop stalling, we saw each other an hour ago, you know how I am. How did it go? Did they suspect the undercut? Because I told you, Gem, it’s silly but it’s true, they’ll judge you for it.”

“It went great, Liv.” Gemma replied simply, not wanting to keep this going and make her friend more annoyed at her than she knows she already is. “No undercut suspected, zero tattoos spotted. I have to go in for a bit of training tomorrow but after that it’s a long weekend before I start properly on Monday.”

Olivia lets out a sigh of genuine relief through the phone, Gemma can tell she’s smiling as she talks. “That’s great, Gem! Really, that’s so great. I have to get back to work but I'll see you back home later, okay? We can talk about it more then. Maybe plan a way to celebrate a little? Alcohol free, of course.”

“Yeah, sounds good. Talk later.”

Gemma hangs up the phone, puts it in her navy blazer pocket and pulls her hair out of its low ponytail, replacing it with a high one, showing off the undercut Olivia spent 10 minutes stressing about helping her hide this morning. Working in a posh office where she has to hide even the most basic parts of herself isn’t exactly the dream but beggars can’t be choosers. She needs this job. She needs to get back on track.

She can already picture her life a few months from now, a little bit of money in her pocket, new clothes she’s been in need of for weeks, finally able to pay Liv the rent she’s owed. An apartment of her own is the real dream but that might be thinking too big right now and living with Liv definitely isn’t a problem. She can picture it though. Flat screen TV, dark green sofa, huge fluffy rug that feels like you’re walking on a cloud. A bit of saving and hard work at a job she’s pretty sure is going to be mind-numbing and it'll be real before she knows it. There’s a smile on Gemma’s face as she walks down the street thinking of the future. Things might finally be looking up.

-

The loud screech of tyres and the distant thud as something hits the hard road takes Gemma out of her daydream and back to reality. It’s like time freezes for a few seconds as she stops in her tracks, taking in the scene before her.

Black marks on the ground lead up to a small silver car stopped in the middle of the road. Its windshield is smashed and Gemma is pretty sure there’s a small dent on the bumper too. The driver is sitting there, shock on his face, probably not sure if what just happened is his own fault or the fault of the person who just bounced off his windshield and is now laying almost unconscious on the concrete. The other people in the area have stopped too. Some look annoyed that their morning has been disturbed, others look horrified.

There’s a quick rush as time starts again and Gemma runs towards the car and the fallen boy. On closer inspection, he looks rough. No shoes or socks, a half-torn, baggy, white shirt, ill-fitting jeans, hair that seems to not have been brushed in a few days. Gemma peers over her shoulder at a building across the road. She’s been living in the area long enough to know where that boy came running from. It likely wasn't the driver's fault. But it probably wasn’t the boy’s either.

He’s laying on his back, staring up at the sky. Gemma leans over him.

“Hey. Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay,” She says, though she’s not sure that’s true. He looks quickly around him, as much as he can while still laying flat on the floor, and then looks Gemma in the eyes for a second, like he’s checking for something. “Just stay still.”

Looking up, Gemma realises that other than the driver, who took a few seconds to build up the courage to get out of his car and check the damage, she is the only person who has rushed over to help.

“What the hell are they all doing? See a lad get hit by a car and just stand there, seems reasonable, ugh,” she mutters angrily to no one in particular. Looking around quickly, scanning the small crowd, she spots a woman with her phone in her hand and points, “Oi, you, phone someone! Now!”

“No, I’m fine,” the guy mumbles as the woman lifts her phone to call and begins walking over. She hesitates slightly at his comment.

“Ignore him. He’s been hit on the head. Call them.”

He starts trying to sit up, probably faster than he should. Gemma crouches down and reaches out, preparing to attempt to catch him if he starts falling backwards. She makes a mental note to buy some work trousers that she can properly bend in with her first pay cheque. Liv can have these one’s back, if they survive the day.

“I’m fine. I’ll just.. I’ll walk it off, you know. Thanks.” He’s distracted when he says it, not fully in the moment and not looking at Gemma but instead surveying the area once again, searching.

Gemma pretends not to notice. “Walk it off? In whose shoes?” She says it playfully, trying to distract him from whatever this is. He doesn’t seem right. And he can’t just get up and walk this off.

He pauses and takes a look at his grimy, bare feet. “Have you never heard of shoeless hikes? You should try it sometime. It’s great, really.”

Gemma smiles slightly. “Sure it is. Listen, just lay back down, okay? Or at least just stay sitting. You don’t know what could be wrong. The ambulance will be here soon.”

“Nothing is wrong. Uh, I’m Nick, you’re British, it’s.. Tuesday..?” He counts on his fingers. “Well, it’s definitely a weekday. See? Everything..” He starts looking around mid sentence, “...is,” distracted again, more searching, “… fine.”

Gemma follows Nick’s gaze and realises he’s looking at the old abandoned church longer than he’s looking in any other direction. So her assumption was right, that is where he came from.

“I’m Gemma. It’s Wednesday. Stay put.”

Nick turns his head back in her direction. He slumps like he’s lost his fight, exhausted, or has decided whatever he’s worried about doesn’t need worrying about right now. He doesn’t say anything as he lays back down on the floor, giving up his attempts to leave. The shrill sound of an ambulance siren can be heard in the distance.

-

As the ambulance pulls up, accompanied by a police car a dozen feet behind it, the driver of the car finally finds his voice. He’s been standing there for a few minutes, nervously smoothing out his work suit, trying to think of what to say. He speaks fast, trying to get everything out before anyone official gets within hearing distance.

“Listen. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, okay? You seem fine.” He turns to Gemma. “He’ll be fine, right? Nothing needs to come of this. I’ll just... be on my way.”

“Spineless.” Gemma mumbles under her breath before looking back at him. She may not think the incident was necessarily his fault but there’s a way to handle it and it’s not this. Looking directly at him, eyes cold, she continues, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere mate, the police are right there. They’ll want a word, I’m sure. And look at him. Does he look fine?”

Nick is still laying on the floor, not moving much. It's like the adrenaline and shock have finally worn off, leaving him aching all over, able to feel what just happened to him.

Gemma continues. “And unless you fancy running some more people over, I don’t think driving off in that thing is a good idea, do you? You won’t be able to see anything out of that window.”

The man turns back to his car, noting the huge area of smashed windshield, and runs his hand through his already slicked back hair, uncomfortable. Nick ignores what Gemma has just said and looks at the slightly dishevelled man, mumbling a response, “It’s whatever, man. I have bigger things to worry about.”

Gemma looks to Nick, wondering what those bigger things are. You’d assume it was potential head injury or internal damage from being thrown onto the concrete by a hunk of speeding metal but Gemma doesn’t think so. Nick was concerned about something, being hit by a car wasn’t anywhere close to the forefront of his mind.

Before the man can decide what to do the police and paramedics have closed the distance. The police go straight to him, the medics to Nick.

“Okay then, what do we have here?” Says the commanding voice of a tall blonde woman striding over. She’s carrying a large bag of any potential medical supplies Nick may need immediately and is being followed by a man and a stretcher.

“His name is Nick. He ran out into the road and got hit by a car.” Gemma quickly responds.

“Nick, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Let me take a look at you.” The paramedic bends down to Nick. She checks his eyes and makes a ‘hm’ sound.

“I feel fine.” Nick says while she continues looking him over. He doesn’t sound fine. His voice has gotten weaker the longer he’s been laying there.

“Right, okay,” unsurprisingly, the paramedic isn’t convinced. “We should check you out properly anyway. Getting hit by a car can cause a lot of damage you can’t necessarily see. Let’s get you on this stretcher and then we’ll be right on our way to the hospital, okay?” She says it firmly, it’s not really a question. But Nick doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue anyway.

Gemma stands back while the paramedics get Nick up onto the stretcher and as they walk him the short distance to the ambulance she instinctively starts to follow. No one questions her getting into the ambulance with them and taking a seat, not even Nick, who looks over to her but seems to mostly be in his own world now, thinking about who knows what. Maybe he’s thinking about nothing, in too much of a daze. Or maybe, like Gemma, he’s thinking about the church.

#fear the walking dead #nick clark #nick clark x reader #nick clark x oc #nick clark imagine #troy otto x oc #Troy Otto #Troy Otto x reader #- not going to tag troy again until i get to him actually being in the fic just wanted it to be known that he'll be in it at some point #mine

[alyssaforevermore]

Darkness ↦ Troy Otto

Synopsis: While searching for her younger brother, Josephine Clark and her family are captured by what they at first think is the military. They soon come to realize that their new home holds dark secrets. All Josie wants is to keep her family together, but will Troy Otto get in the way of everything?

Show: Fear The Walking Dead

Pairings: Troy Otto x Clark!OC

Warnings: Major series spoilers (full series will be covered), use of profanity, descriptions of violence, death, blood and gore, and mentions of drugs and alcohol.

Status: coming soon

Note: This series will follow the main plots of the show, starting at season 3. Many things will be changed, as I am also considering this a bit of a rewrite for the show. We will continue on as long as people are interested in the story!

Available on: Tumblr || Wattpad

Tags: OPEN!

Extras:

TBD

Character Bios:

Josephine Clark (coming soon)

Chapters:

TBD

#troy otto; darkness #fear the walking dead #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #troy otto #troy otto x oc

[muselessart]

Tryn Hotto Reincarnated

Here we go!

#digital art #museless art #artists on tumblr #art #my art #art tag #artwork #ftwd art #ftwd #troy otto #troy otto x oc #laurel hall #laurel otto #serena #serena otto #serena ftwd #fear the walking dead #feartwd #fish art

[aquarian-queen]

After so long the smut between Troy and Cristine is finally smutting!!! Hope I can share the it for my short story at the end of the week

#troy otto fanfic #troy otto smut #troy otto x oc #It took me so long and now my brain is on overload #I #troy otto

[noemitenshi]

Excerpt

“Why’d you save me?” Troy asked, breaking the not so uncomfortable silence. He figured she was the driving force from Lee’s words earlier on, and he was curious what made her spend so much work and resources on a stranger.

Ri sat down then, the bloody bandages she removed from Troy’s head in her lap.

“Because you needed it.”

There seemed nothing more to it. Her voice kind and matter-of-factly, and her face calm. It wasn’t soft exactly, her eyes still observant. Troy found it difficult to look away, something about her holding him captive. This face he’d thought he’d dreamt up. He was glad he hadn’t; liked how animated and real she looked now. Now that he wasn’t half-delirious with pain, his thoughts could race again, like they tended to do. Getting stuck on her explanation ‘you needed it.’ He had needed a lot of things in life, a lot of times, and no one had cared. Why would she? A total stranger. Why would she, when not even his family had? Was it truth, what she said? Or was it just a pretty sentiment devoid of meaning.

How much could he need, he wondered...

“Yeah? What if I need your boyfriend?”

“Don’t be a dick.”

#troy otto #crazy dog #troy otto x oc #crazy dog x oc #troy otto x crazy dog x oc #fluff #bit of angst #bit of whump #attention-starved troy otto #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfic #my fic #lost & found #troy gets saved some years after the dam by most unlikely people

[ftwdb]

Troy and Kaelie moodboard from an unposted fanfic, The Exiles.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfiction #ftwdfanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #fanfic #kaelie hart #the exiles #oc #troy otto x oc #mood board

[roll-of-royces]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE !!

Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

► NAME: Dixon Otto

► NICKNAME: Vixen / Dixie Cup / Trixie

► TITLE(S): Dixon / Otto

► AGE: 24

► SPECIES: Human

► SEX: Female

► NATIONALITY: American

► INTERESTS: Hunting / telling jokes / board games / being near people she likes

► PROFESSION: None / Unemployed before the fall

► BODY TYPE: Slim / somewhat fit

► EYES: Blue

► HAIR: Ruddy brown hair that falls straight / sometimes she wears it in a ponytail

► SKIN: Scarred / sun-tanned

► WOUNDS: Before Fall: several scars along her back / small scars from working on cars After Fall: Bite mark on shoulder / various scars from scraps and accidents

► FACE: Sophia Tatum

► POSTURE: Poor posture / slumped shoulders

► HEIGHT: 5' 7"

► VOICE: Sophia Tatum

► SIGNATURE OUTFIT: Dark tank top and tight fitting jeans with military boots and her dogtags (a gift from her time at Broke Jaw Ranch)

► SIGNIFICANT OTHER: Troy Otto (Husband)

► COMPANIONS: Mel (best friend) / Daryl Dixon (brother) / Jake Otto (Brother-in-law) / Cooper (friend)

► STRENGTHS: Tough as nails / not easily frightened / sharp shooter / high pain tolerance / willing to kill

► WEAKNESSES: Paranoid / Aggressive / Anger management / her way or the highway / CPTSD

► FRUITS: Apples

► DRINKS: Coffee, coffee, coffee

► ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: Whiskey

► SMOKES: As often as she can (as long as Troy isn't looking)

► DRUGS: Oxy

► DRIVER’S LICENSE: Georgia

TAGGED BY: @otto-laurel

TAGGING: @noemitenshi Check out my RP blog if ya'll want @butibite ! I love a good Fear RP. I have a 170K fanfic called Say You Need Me with these two on AO3 (LordSuven) if you are in the mood for some sweet possessive love eager Troy.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd #troy otto x oc

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

2 Of A Kind CH.2

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +Abuse but not really +Semi-Smut

This is made for THIS anon request!

What was going to be 2 chapters is now 3. The real down-and-dirty smut will be all of chapter 3.

Chapter 1

As she sloughed off her jacket, tossing it to the corner of the bed, Troy watched the scarred skin of her arms bend and fold with her movements. She was silent as she turned and caught his eyes peering over her exposed skin. She stood a few heartbeats longer before scoffing and scooting past him as his form seemed to tower over her own. 

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you to not stare at a woman?” 

Troy’s gut clenched a tad at the thought of his upbringing… of his mother… and of his father so recently passed. His silence was deafening as he stood in the doorway staring into a blank, wooden wall ahead. 

“No ma’am, she wasn’t that kind of mother, to be honest.” Troy’s voice was low and soft, unusual for his typical banter in the cabin. The woman turned back to him after starting to fill the tub, her eyes softer than they had been matching the sorrow in his tone. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up, but-” She paused as she saw him come back to earth behind those blue eyes as he blinked into nothingness before finding her own. “-if you want to talk about it when I’m out you can. I’ve never been the greatest empathizer but I’m sure great at listening.” 

Troy’s face contorted at the thought, shaking his head as a hand swept through his growing brown locks.

“You have running water here?”

“Nice subject change, fuck boy.” The woman said with a smirk before closing the bathroom door in his face. Troy could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the sound of the water swashing from what he was assuming was the woman getting in the tub. Shaking his head furvorously and clenching his eyes shut, Troy took himself out back for some fresh air. He started to feel like a little boy again, which confused and frustrated the man. 

Hours had passed before the woman emerged from the bathroom once again wearing the dirty clothes she had been in previously. As she stared into the mirror, she smoothed out some wrinkles in her shirt and dusted off the dry blood splatter of her jeans before sighing in frustration and heading back into the cabin. 

Finding it baron, she got a small waft of smoke drifting in through one of the broken windows. As she exited to the back, she took in the changing colors of the sunset before noticing Troy, sitting alone poking a small fire engulfing a pile of twigs and grass. 

“You don’t think that’ll attract anything?” She spoke under her breath swaying beside him to a large log perfectly situated access from the brunette. Her words dripped with sarcasm and sass, earning a devilish, dark look from Troy. 

“Depends-” Troy gestured to the woman’s arms and the scars that mark them, “-who exactly will it attract?” 

He could sense the woman’s body language shift, becoming uneasy and tense as she bit down on her lower lip. Her eyes gazed over his for a heartbeat before staring back into the fire. Her hands rubbed circles over the rough skin littering her exposed body. 

“I doubt they’ll be around for a little while,” Her voice was barely audible over the cracking of a log Troy then through in the fire as she continued. “They got what they needed for now. It should hold them off for a week or two.” 

Troy’s eyes steadied on her reactions, seeing thought after thought run behind her eyes. She finally met his gaze again. Seeing his nervous yet, curious raise of his eyebrow made her sweat off her intensity with a small smile. 

“It’s not what your thinking, “ She laughed a nervous giggle exposing her flesh to the firelight. She could feel his worry, or maybe judgments through the look he gave her. Never did she think she’d have to explain herself to anyone, let alone a stranger SHE was helping. But the way she reacted was immediate. 

“These aren’t from a human, well, not any alive ones.” Troy’s look grew further into a confused state. All the bodies, alive and the once-alive, that he had seen over the past had never looked like hers. Not one. As the realization hit, she could see the gears working in his mind. “I’m different, somehow. There’s a group a few towns over that are working on a cure or something like that.” 

Troy kept his gaze on her skin. What he had assumed were burns from rope or shackles, were bites. Thousands of tooth marks and scrapes covered her skin to the point that clear flesh was barely visible in most areas. She could see his reservation of speaking but knew he wanted to ask. 

“We were attacked in the supermarket a few miles west. My entire family made it out, but one by one-” She paused, making his eyes avert to hers as she acted out the motion of a knife going into her skull and the obvious death face. “ -Until I was the only one. I waited for a week to suddenly feel ill or even lightheaded, just anything to know I was going to do the same.”

“And you never did?” Troy finally spoke. The woman smiled as she nodded her head. 

“That group found me after a few months here. I was alone and craving human connection so I of course went.” At that moment, her face fell back into a pained frown. “Most of these are from their tests. No one believes you until they see it with their own eyes, but they couldn’t get enough.” 

“So your immune? To the bites and all of it?” 

She nodded her head once again. Her gaze drifted off into the crackling wood burning into ashes. Troy wanted to did deeper into her time with this mystery group. He wanted to know about the tests and the samples he assumed they take from her blood and all of it. He felt like a kid on Christmas hearing her story. 

But the look in her eyes, the way she swayed in her seat clenching her wounds… for once he saw a human, not a specimen. 

Both sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up. 

“I shared my story,” She caught his knowing gaze through the flames. “Now it’s your turn Mr. Fuck Boy. What makes you wander alone aimlessly in these parts? I could’ve mistaken you for the dead with how shitty you look.” 

Troy instantly stood, throwing his poking stick in the flames and turning towards the cabin. 

“I’m a bit tired and going to head in. Since I look so awful, would it be against the rules for me to wash up?” 

The woman stayed sitting, shaking her head silently to his question. She wasn’t expecting a full inside scoop on the man’s whole backstory, but being fully blown off after she opened up cut her deeper than she thought. Covering the fire with dirt, she headed in once she was able to get her head back straight. 

Passing the bathroom on her way to her bed, she heard the occasional movement of water and continued on her way. The bedroom door creaked to a close, heard by both herself and Troy. Now he knew she was back inside and he could relax a little more as he slunk all the way into the lukewarm water. 

She stood at the foot of the bed, staring blankly at the dark green blanket thrown messily over. Battling her own needs and demons, she undressed while in a sort of trance staring blankly for who knows how long until she stood in nothing but blue panties that barely covered her modesty and a thin matching bralette. All her days since the apocalypse happened, she had never had THE urge until tonight. 

“Fuck it.” She murmured under her breath before bouncing onto the bed. A small smirk of what she felt eased at the corners of her lips as she felt her own skin in ways she had never felt before. The sensation was odd but satisfying, making noises she hadn’t made, alone at least, vibrating through the room louder than she had expected. 

Troy turned his attention towards her closed door as he exited the bathroom, wearing only the pants he had on prior. Water droplets sparkled on the pale skin of his shoulder, falling down the crevices of his back and abdomen as he stepped closer to the door hearing yet another sound. 

He couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying, putting his ear up to the door, but he was sure she made a few questionable sounds through the sound deafness of the wood barrier. A knot tied in Troy’s stomach as he heard a whimper from the other side. It was his fault she was like this. It was his words that caused her to hide away and cry. 

…he had one thought correct. It was indeed his fault she was like this. 

As she found another pleasure spot, pressing a finger into her heat as she bit down on the strap of her bralette, she made another sound. 

Troy ever so carefully turned the doorknob before pushing it open just a hair. The door was silent to his surprise, so he ventured a tad more, opening it just enough that he could see the shambles he had turned the woman into. What he saw made that knot in his stomach unfurl into a web of pleasure and anxiety. 

Try sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, gnarling on the cracked flesh in hopes it kept his own involuntary sounds at bay. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at her, not like this, but he couldn’t make himself close the door. Watching as she continued, he had never seen a woman do this before or even look like that. That web he felt in his gut grew to his member, feeling the urge of pleasure and warmth radiate from his southern regions. 

When the world went to hell, his pleasure became different, taboo most would probably call it. Seeing her, like this, Troy was back to his pre-teen self. And as his hand massaged over the growing bulge between his legs, the door creaked open. 

Both held in a breath. 

Staring directly at one another with wide eyes.

Troy gulped harshly in the silence, his cheeks lighting up like a tomato ripe and ready. 

Something then came over him. Something the man in Troy would only do, not the boy he felt like again. Taking a strong stride forward, he now stood at the foot of the bed frame, close enough to see a smirk growing on the woman’s face as her cheeks flushed further. The tightness of his pants became overwhelming at the sight of her nearly an arm's distance away. 

He could feel her heat. 

Smell her arousal.

See the mess she was as she looked back with the same devilish grin.

Troy locked eyes with her for a few seconds, reading the room as his brother had taught him to do when in the company of a partner. He was assuming she was soon to be that at least by the look she gave him and still not disputing his presence. So Troy broke the silence.

“Can I help you with that?”

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[luciddaizey]

Troy Otto FTWD3

GIFS ARE MINE, PLS GIVE CREDIT

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[topazy]

Under my skin

Pairing: Troy Otto x oc

Warnings: Mentions of blood and swearing

Chapter: 1.10

“You don’t need to do this, right?”

Walking towards the canteen I smiled at Jake while he stared at me with a concerned look on his face.

“My family is complicated,” he continued. “I love Troy, and he’s my brother, but he can be very protective. I just wanted to let you know that, because once you're with him, he’ll become a lot more intense than he already is.”

I thought it was sweet that Jake was concerned, but I trusted Troy. I shrug, “It was only a kiss. Besides, he might not even be that interested in me.”

The older Otto rolled his eyes and said, “We both know that’s not true.”

“I thought more people would be here,” I say, changing the subject. To my surprise, the canteen was almost empty, aside from a few militia having a break. Although the sun was shining, the heat was a lot cooler than the days prior, and I thought more people would be taking advantage of that.

“People are grieving.”

He had a point. Jeremiah’s uplifting speech on looking out for one another was overshadowed by Troy's explanation that he and his men were outnumbered by the dead.

I sat down on one of the empty benches and happily shoved some oatmeal into my mouth. “I’ve no idea how you can eat that,” a guy called Mike Trimbol says, scrunching his face up. “It’s disgusting. Having to eat that horse food is one of the worst things about the apocalypse.”

I look at him for a second with my eyebrows raised to see if he's joking or being serious. Mike didn’t understand that there were people who would literally kill for a small bag of oats outside the ranch. “I love oatmeal. I used to use it in different recipes before the dead came knocking, and all of them were delicious.”

I noticed one of the women who was serving food was staring at me. I give her an awkward smile, and her cheeks flush red at being caught. Maybe my light-hearted comment about the dead offended her.

“That’s new,” Jake said, motioning to the gold cross hanging around my neck.

“It belonged to my mother. I stopped wearing it because I was afraid I’d lose it.”

We ate in comfortable silence until I noticed Troy walking towards us. After the memorial, he went to his dad's office to talk to him in private. However, Jeremiah’s voice echoed and from what I heard, he was placing the blame for the four militia men who died on his son.

Troy sat without saying a word and reached for the apple on his brother's tray. Jake gave me a look that telepathically told me not to mention their dad. I watched as Troy sliced the skin off the apple with a miserable look on his face.

I watched as he ate the apple but left the skin. He must have noticed the confused look on my face because he pushed the apple skins in front of me.

“Thanks.”

A peaceful meal was disturbed when Leo walked by with a couple of guys on either side of him and mumbled something under his breath.

I didn’t hear what Leo said aside from the words “whipped” and “bitch,” but Troy did. I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he started to stand up, glaring at the blond. “Troy, just leave it. All that asshole wants is a reaction.”

“Fine.”

That was easy.

“I will on one condition.” He cocks his head to the side, smirking.

“And what’s that?”

“You have to give me a kiss.”

“Fine,” I say, leaning in so close to him that my lips ghosted his. “But I’m not putting on a show for an audience later.”

He follows my trail of sight to the table Mike and his friends were sitting at, all of them were staring directly in our direction. He smirks at me, “I’ll hold you to that.”

—

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I say, and my smile falls when I see the look on Jake's face as he approaches me. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh-listen, all work assignments have been updated.”

A knot twists in my stomach. I wipe the back of my hands with a cloth before starting to put the tools I’d just used back into the toolbox. I sighed, “What am I doing?”

“Kitchen duty.”

I maintained calm on the outside, but on the inside I was screaming. It was very disappointing that, despite being good at what I did, I wouldn’t get to do it for very long because, in the words of Jeremiah Otto, it was an “unladylike” job.

“Whatever, at least it gets me out of the sun.”

“You’re taking it surprisingly well. I thought you would have chewed my ear off,” he laughed. “Thank god you didn’t. I’ve already had an earful from my brother.”

I try my best to keep the smile off my face. I've only spoken to a few of them so far. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow.”

—

I froze outside the small wooden cabin I was now staying in when I noticed the door was ajar. Strange, I was so sure I’d locked it behind me. I pushed the door open and was greeted by Troy, who was laying on the bed reading a book.

He was laying on his back with his shoes and jacket removed. I was actually jealous of how comfortable he looked. Well, until I noticed the dirt on his trousers.

“You're staring,” he said in a matter of folk tone.

“I’m judging.”

He held the book to his chest and looked up at me with an amused expression on his face. “Judging what exactly?”

“You’re got muddy clothes on my clean sheets.”

His eyes trailed down his clothes until I noticed the small mess and sat up, his eyes widening in realisation. “I can get you some new ones.”

“Since it’s already a mess…” I plopped down on the bed beside him, much to his surprise. “So, you tend to chill in here while I’m somewhere else?”

“No, just thought I’d wait on you here since you owe me.”

“I owe you?”

Troy nodded before pressing his lips against mine. You have to give me a kiss. Troy most definitely held me to my word. I smiled into the kiss before pulling away for air.

Troy began to trail his finger up my neck and along my jawline while telling me how he would be leaving in a couple of days to search for an abandoned warehouse. I noticed the back of his knuckles were cut. I gently grabbed hold of his wrist so I could get a better look, “What did you do?”

He stared at me, emotionless. At first glance, I thought he’d hurt it by accident, but the more I looked at it, the less I believed it was just a simple accident.

“Troy, how did you hurt your hand?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I frowned, “Of course I’m worried. Your knuckles are brushing and have dried blood on them.”

He leaned onto his elbows and looked down at his knuckles with a weird expression on his face, almost as if he was pondering whether to tell me the truth or not. “I got into an argument with Leo. Instead of punching the fucker in the head, I punched the wall beside him instead.”

“Good, I’m sure he got frightened.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. “I’m glad I got your seal of approval.”

I looked up at him as he rambled on about how much he despised Leo ever since he moved into the ranch.I reached up and put my hand on the back of his neck, “Troy?”

“Yeah?”

I pulled his head towards mine to kiss him again.

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[blvckqwz]

I need more Troy Otto fanfictions, why are there so few

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[skadee17]

VIII- Imminent danger

After saying goodbye to Alicia and Nick, the convoy set off. My mother was in another car behind, and I was stuck with Troy and his seemingly cheerful mood due to my presence. The tension between us had turned into a heavy and opaque silence after our argument.

For Troy, this situation was perplexing. He believed he was convinced of his hatred towards Bella, but something within him rebelled against this feeling. He found himself feeling the urgent need to protect her, even though he refused to admit it. Torn between his resentment and this instinctive desire to watch over Bella, he found himself in an emotional deadlock. Every time he met her gaze, he felt torn between wanting to talk to her and fearing to show any vulnerability.

We had been driving for a while when Troy noticed a penitentiary bus on the side of the road. He deemed it necessary to stop and take them down, considering the proximity to the ranch in case the infected decided to migrate. Cooper wasn't particularly in favor, saying it would waste our time, and I agreed. That wasn't the mission's goal.

But that was without counting on my mother's intervention, who believed we should do it and supported Troy's request. What was she thinking, damn it?

We all got out of the vehicles. I saw my mother approach me and pull out a gun, but before she could load it, Troy handed her an axe, claiming it was more discreet. As for me, I took out my sharp knife from my pants, and we set off.

Upon reaching the bus, a putrid smell invaded my nose—hell, they must have been there for a while. The bus was overturned, bloody handprints on the windows, and undead scattered everywhere. This was going to be an interesting story.

Troy led the way and began his butchery, cutting, tearing, blasting the zombies. My mother joined in, and the rest of us followed suit. I didn't take pleasure in killing things, but the more we killed, the fewer there would be near the ranch. Anyway, those monsters didn't deserve to live. I eliminated a small group of zombies, and the others did the same. One person seemed to take extreme pleasure, and it was obviously Troy. Our relationship had changed; I couldn't say how, but it was different. However, that didn't mean he had changed, and I tended to forget that these days. He was still the same.

Once the clean-up was done, he couldn't help but ask how long it had taken us. Someone answered one minute; I couldn't help but sigh before looking at my mother. I didn't understand why she encouraged him to do all this; she was feeding the monster.

I found myself facing a similar reality. Despite my annoyance with certain aspects of Troy's behavior, I realized that the protective presence he exerted over me reassured me in a way. Yet, I wasn't ready to admit that deep down, this protection brought me a sense of comfort that I found difficult to ignore. It was simply impossible; I must not feel anything for him. He had committed unforgivable acts; he was dangerous. And yet, our dynamic was gradually changing, and I didn't like it.

After the incident, we all continued on to the location of the helicopter crash in the mountains. Once there, we set foot on the trail.

"What a mess is this?" Mike asked.

"Are you sure this is it?" Cooper questioned in turn.

"It's pretty obvious it's here, idiot," Troy replied.

My mother approached the edge and explained that someone must have taken the helicopter wreckage. It changed a lot of things; if the person or group that had shot down the helicopter had the technical means to move such a load, it was no longer a small threat but quite the opposite. Something was wrong; we lacked information, and that's probably why my mother insisted on coming. She knew.

My stomach churned; something was wrong, and we weren't going to be long before finding out what.

"From a 223, it was shot," a man said, handing the cartridge to Troy.

"This smells bad, man. I don't like it," Mike said.

"Keep your cool, Mickey," Cooper added. "What does Phil use as a weapon?"

"An automatic usually," Troy explained.

"A .223 caliber?" I asked.

"Yeah, he must have opened fire on someone before retreating to the outpost. Let's go right away; I want to find those who shot down the chopper and killed Charly," Troy said.

"And Travis," my mother finished.

She turned around and took the lead towards the vehicles. I followed closely, and the others looked at my mother before following her, except Troy. He stayed for a moment before joining me in the pickup.

Disturbed by the lack of communication, I began to feel increasing anxiety. I felt that Troy was hiding something from me about the expedition, vital information he kept to himself. This silence became unbearable for me, fueling my suspicions and mistrust towards Troy.

"Do you know who it is?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"No idea, no," he concluded before falling silent again.

"Troy, I know you're hiding something from me about this expedition. I can't stand this silence anymore. I want to know what's going on," I said, my eyes shining with a mix of determination and frustration.

Troy remained silent, and my blood began to boil with anger; I hated being kept in the dark, and he was deliberately ignoring me.

"You're lying to me, Troy. I can feel it," I insisted, my tone filled with determination and concern.

The oppressive silence seemed to stretch, each unspoken word increasing the distance between us. I saw Troy clench his jaw and grip the steering wheel tighter. I struggled between my thirst for truth and the desire to preserve the fragile peace between us.

Troy finally parked; we had reached the outpost. It looked like a vast area with sheet metal sheds, laundry still hanging on clotheslines, but there was a problem—it was quiet, way too quiet.

Troy signaled his men to go in certain directions, and he forced me to follow him. He advanced cautiously on his guard before arriving near a small house; he stopped, kicked the door, and went in. Nothing there, but I still took a look around, and Troy grabbed my wrist. I was about to free myself when he handed me a weapon before letting me go.

"You follow me and stay ready, clear?" he said.

I nodded and followed him; we exited the building and rejoined the rest of the group. I looked around; there were numerous traces of blood on the walls but also on a white pickup in front of a big one—what a mess?

"What's this smell?" I asked, sniffing the strange odor.

"Damn it," Troy said, quickly heading towards the back of the barn.

A pile lay there, charred. Men, the men we were looking for, they were all piled up, burned. But what the hell was happening? Who could do such a thing, who was inhuman enough to do this! Disgust swept over us at the sight of this carnage; it was indescribable, and the smell, it was straight out of hell.

"He wasn't here today either. I wish, I wish he leaves from here, at three o'clock this night when I came back..."

A man seemed alive, sitting on a chair, speaking. We moved towards him, a crow seemed to be eating something at the back of his head, I couldn't see well.

"Phil?" Troy asked cautiously.

My throat tightened; the old man had been scalped, the crow was feeding on his brain. What monster could have done such a thing? Troy didn't move; he looked at Phil, lost. I approached the man, took my knife and ended the poor man's suffering.

I had come in hopes of helping these men, and here I was killing one.

"We have to leave right now," my mother ordered.

"But you've just arrived," an unknown voice replied.

We all turned at the same time to face a tall man with long hair surrounded by his men. So, it was this man who had brutally slaughtered these men.

"You've gone crazy or what, Walker? Do you realize what you've done?" Troy exclaimed.

"I defend our territory," the man replied without any remorse.

"This is barbaric," I groaned.

"McCarthy and I go way back, to a time before you were even born. He himself has been barbaric more than once; he killed two of my men just yesterday."

"Yeah, and we're going to kill the others; you know you're a dead man, right!" Troy yelled.

"Lower your tone with me, Troy, and lower all your weapons."

"Troy," my mother said.

"Give the order," my mother ordered.

Armed men stood in front of us, waiting for a signal from their leader. We were about to end up like the burned men.

"For God's sake, okay, we'll lower our weapons!"

"The woman saw what escaped you when you arrived; we are more numerous, abandon the ranch."

"Well, I think you're dreaming," Troy said, laughing ironically, "there have been too many sacrifices."

"I know there have been sacrifices; that's why you have to leave, or I will deliver each of you to the crows," the man threatened.

"Do you want us to relay your message, let us leave," I suggested.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

Troy stood in front of me, and I heard him whistle through his teeth, his jaw clenched.

"Isabella Clark," I replied.

"You're defending a lost cause, Isabella Clark."

"It became our cause when you shot down the helicopter; you took someone dear to us," my mother added.

The situation was more than tense, and our lives depended on the whims of this crazy Walker; I had a premonition that something terrible was about to happen, but if I had learned anything from all the situations I had faced, it was that men were more dangerous than the dead and, therefore, we should never show that we were afraid.

"Now we're going to take your weapons and your resources."

"What?" a man from our group shouted, "That's out of the question; we're all going to die!"

"Trevor, calm down! Put down your damn weapon," Troy shouted.

Trevor raised his weapon towards the enemies and discharged it at them, and the others did the same under the opponents' attacks. Everything was happening way too fast. Cooper took my mother and led her towards the cars, and Troy shielded us with his body, taking my hand and following Cooper.

Bullets were raining everywhere, gunshots echoed throughout the valley, and I was terrified. I couldn't see where this could lead us other than certain death. My heart was pounding, my hands clung to Troy's like glue while he fired towards the enemies who were getting too close to our hiding spot. My mother and Cooper reached their car safely, that was already something, she was safe, and that was the main thing.

Facing the imminent threat, Troy, worried, ordered me to follow his instructions to the letter, even if it meant restricting his freedom of movement or taking draconian precautions.

"Bella, listen carefully," Troy ordered in a urgent but determined voice. "I'm going to create a diversion to draw them away from us. You're going to run towards the car, I'll join you as soon as possible. Don't look back, don't stop, okay?"

I nodded, fear in my eyes, but I started running following Troy's instructions. However, despite my efforts to reach the car safely, the situation suddenly went awry.

BOOM

As I reached the car, a loud noise sounded, followed by a sharp pain. I collapsed, hit by a projectile from the attackers. Panic seized Troy as he saw me injured. He ran towards me, his heart pounding, his mind in terror."

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