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rreskk · 5 months

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Can’t stop thinking about riding Trevor in his chair and fucking in his desk in the strip club office omggg the dirty talk, the way it would lowkey be rushed in case anyone walks in😭👀

I'm too lazy to proof read so sorry if it's all sillay :(

FAVOURITE GIRL

Summary: Quality time with Uncle T in his office!

Pairings: Fem!reader/Dom Trevor Philips

TW: Smut! (he's a bit of a pervert in this)

Word count: 1003

He made a low grunt when you sat down bare, his warmth greeting yours with compassion as the chair beneath him shuddered at the extra weight.

“Sugar, sugar…” His voice purred against the crook of your neck. “Move a little closer, just a little – fuck… Perfect… Yes, fuck.”

You had corrected yourself directly onto his cock, a small breath leaving your lips and making your legs turn to jelly. You also felt his thighs clench up at the intimate contact – his arousal becoming animalistically unbearable.

“God, I love your pussy.” Trevor murmur and wrapped his hands loosely around your hips like a saddle on a horse, encouraging to you slowly ride, the office silent apart from the background noise of your skin slapping together.

It was hard not to whimper. His harsh fingers with substances of grub and dirt traced your sides as he assisted the way you moved into his exposed lap. You felt him stiffen whenever the contact came close and he always looked between your body and the door, always alerted in case someone walked through and disrupted the mid penetration.

So you followed his gaze after feeling the uncertainty.

But he quickly captured your attention by moving his hand further up your back with a small grumble of his deep voice. “Hey, hey. Eyes over here, beautiful. C’mon…”

“Is the door locke – “

“Shut up,” He breathlessly silenced you. “That don’t matter. You should be feeling good right now. Uncle T’s treating you well, ay?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Where’s the euphuism, treasure? I needa make you scream.” Trevor grinned with his full sets of yellowish teeth before grinding you into his lap harder – his attention detached from the door and onto the way you reacted; breath hitching and words stumbling out like a token of pride.

He kept on going until your volume increased to his desired amounts.

“Fuck!” You grunted. “Yes, God…”

“You like that?”

“Mhm.” Your lips sealed shut as the two of you continued to fuck about on his desk.

“That’s my girl…” Trevor muttered then stood you up. His hands guided you to his desktop where he bent you over, his fingers caressing your backside before examining the brutality of your pussy; his lips twitching as a result of your wet nature since it drooled from his fingertip when stroking the surrounding pubes. It was exactly what he wanted, furthering his roughness and replacing his finger with his needy cock, warming you up again by rubbing it between your inner thighs.

The change of positions made your adrenaline spike. His desk was covered with dirty magazines and ashtrays, so you had the delights of ingesting his natural scents of tobacco and filth. It brought you comfort more than anything – better comfort than most smells. His offices stunk of sourness due to his hygiene and addictions, but you had outgrown the disgust, finding it arousing as he pushed inside you.

“Fuck…” Trevor whined, thrusting in and finding himself comfortable, repeating the procedure again while you were hung over his desk.

“Mph – “ You muffled out a sweet moan when he began to rush since the rattling of the door suggested dancers walking out from the stage which was merely down the hallway. It made you shudder, falling against the desk and grunting his name.

“I know, Angel. Uncle T’s gotcha…” He reassured with a rough voice.

“Oh – Yes. God.”

“How’s my girl doin’?” A lockful of your hair was tugged backwards as he wanted to see your face. Trevor smirked; satisfied and cruelly enjoying the way your face looked when thrown back. “Aren’t you the sweetest fuckin’ thing, ay?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You whispered pathetically.

“Oh yeah?”

“Please – “

“Playtimes almost over?” He gave you a playful frown, his grip increasing. “But, sugar, I love being with you. You gonna hold it together while you can, babe?”

“Bu – “

Trevor tugged your head back more as his lips grazed the tip of your ear. “Don’t be like that to Uncle T, sweetheart. Hold it together until I say so.”

It was an order to restrain the urge so you squeezed your eyes shut and took him in repeatedly. His praises encouraged you, his hips becoming unbearably fast as he wanted to toy around dangerously before anyone could walk into the office to clock out.

“Fuck, Trevor.” You couldn’t help but moan – his torture making you sexually frustrated.

“I’m almost there, sugar…”

“Trevor. Pleas – “

He gritted his teeth. “Keep talkin’. Baby, fuckin’ speak.”

“Fuck… Fuck…” You stared ahead as he fucked you quick. The moment he wanted you to speak, words were struggling to form and you felt him grow tensely impatient by the ways his hips ruggedly slammed against your backside. It made you jaggar forward and grabbing his desk for support.

“Speak to me, Angel.” He repeated in a broken whisper.

“I want to.” Pathetic as it sounds, you only whimpered and looked back at him, his face scrunched and hands digging into your waist. He was close. It made you lose willpower as cum seeped from your sex. You couldn’t even express the pleasure since he was still fucking you through the climax, your cum being smeared all over his cock that was already stimulated by his longingness to release.

Trevor exhaled sharply and thrusted one more time – deep inside you – his hips cuddling against your backside, his frame closing in on you before he came.

“Oh, fuckin’… God! Love me!” He cried into your ear.

The desk underneath you stopped rattling, but instead rocked backwards at the pilling up weight of Trevor’s body falling into yours fully. You moaned softly at his orgasm, feeling all warm and used, his cock staying inside you until he said otherwise. Which was okay. You wanted him to stay inside you; for more than he thinks.

Your breath was weak and it barely made a noise, no matter how hard you tried to talk to him.

“God. You’re my favourite fuckin’ girl.” He took the hint and spoke for you. “You gotta run along now, Angel. I won’t keep myself together if I’m still inside you when that clock ticks another second.”

It was tempting to challenge his words but you knew he was a busy man, so you leaned up, his cock flawlessly falling from your pussy, making you feel empty and cold.

“Beautiful.” You heard him murmur, his hands rubbing your hips again. “I’ll give you a call later. Don’t fuck around without me, yeah?”

“Mmm. Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Yes Uncle T.”

“That’s my girl.”

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aliveinacoffin · 1 year

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Kinda request

hi! I just wanted to ask if u could write a fic of any fandom and character of ur choosing! I enjoy reading your fics so much and I would love to read one of your own liking! Thank you and have a great day <333

i love you guys so much i literally would eat a baby for you guys PLS 😭😭 decided to write a gta v fic with micheal because GYATT damn do I love him, also sorry this took so long, I have like, a trillion fics to write 🥲

Wedding Ring

You knew Micheal was married with a wife and kids, and that he went through hell and back to keep them safe and alive. When he goes off this crazy adventure and he has to hide from the cops, where does he go? That's right, the woman who he has been sharing a bed with the last four years.

Fem!Reader: She/Her pronouns and descriptions

TW!: NSFW, cheating, ghosting, manipulation

It was a nice and sunny day, something that was usual for a city like Los Santos. Still, you took advantage of this fact. You were lounging in your backyard with nothing but a swimsuit on, trying to suntan in peace with your music playing loud as possible, enjoying the feeling of the sun's hot rays on your skin.

That peace was quickly disrupted.

"Why the fuck are you playing music so god damn loud?" A familiar gruff voice barked from behind you. You snapped your eyes open, quickly sitting up to see the offender who disrupted your peace and broke into your house.

"Oh Michael." You groaned, laying back down on the white pool chair. The separated plastic part of the white chair dug in a satisfying way into your back.

"Seriously, Jesus it's eleven in the morning." Michael stumbled over to your phone, angrily smashing the side buttons.

"Damn who shit in your cereal? Or maybe drink would be better." You scoffed, pissed that he was even here. The old man hadn't contacted you in months, ghosting you after he fucked you in some shitty motel near sandy shores.

"An old friend of mine and my whole fuckin' family." Michael mumbled, and you watched him behind your black sunglasses approach the bottom of your sunbleached chair, resting his hands on your ankles. He looked down, light green eyes watching his hands trave circles in your ankles. With his motions, his gold wedding ring glittered in the California sun.

"Why are you here?" You asked, not bothering to move from your position hands resting on your stomach. Your fingers suddenly felt very bare.

"I just wanted to see you, is that such a crime?" He shrugged, but his hands started to trail higher, now rubbing on your calfs.

"Well, aside from the fact you haven't spoken to me in months, let a lone texted me. No, I guess not." You pulled your legs away, sitting on the side of the long chair. You still watched him, hands grabbing tightly on the metal, burning the palms of your hands.

"You know how it is, life gets in the way." He tried to wave you off, shrugging his shoulders. Michael had already taken off his suit jacket, white shirt looking grey with your vision. So he expected you to just hop on his dick right away?

"Yeah, I'm sure it does. With your wife and family keeping you busy." You got up, walking over to grab your phone and speaker.

Michael didn't say anything to that, instead he just watched you. He silently followed you inside, stopping you from closing the sliding glass door on him.

"Seriously Michael, why are you here?" You growled at him, not bothering to spare a glance back at him. You stopped at your sink, resting your knuckles on the metal appliance. His heavy footsteps followed you, and through the window above the sink you saw him come up behind you, watching you.

"I just have a lot of stress, and my therapy is always telling me to get rid of it." Michael's large hands rested on your hips, still watching your face.

"Then go to your wife. I'm obviously not anybody to you." You looked down, unable to meet his watchful gaze. Instead, you regrettable made eye contact with his ring. "Go home, go to your fuckin' over priced shitty therapist and your shitty family that your always whining about." You snapped, but you made no motion to move away from his hands.

"They left me." He admitted lowly, and that made you look up. Michael was not an honest man, he was a lying hypocrite who constantly cheated on his wife. He was always the type to skirt around the truth when it harmed him and constantly complained when he could. The man had left a life of crime, that much you knew, and ever since had regretted it.

"Why?" You asked softly, making eye contact with him again in the window. It was hard to see him, with your glasses and the bright sun outside, so you opted to take them off, making the appeal of Michael much clearer. Though, you couldn't stand stand look at him. Michael loved making eye contact with you, for a reason you never knew. But it absolutely pained you to watch his eyes fill with want and desperation.

"I'm not a good man. I chase things that I'll never get, things I can never keep." He leaned over your back, breathing into your neck. He pushed your hips back, pulling you flush against him. His hands wormed their way under the elastic of your bottom, rubbing and pinching the fat there. He pressed gentle kisses into your neck, lightly nipping the skin that was presented to him.

"Is that right? What about the things you have?" You knew for Michael no matter what he did, no matter what he got, nothing would ever be good enough for him. The perfect life he could have in his own expensive mansion is ruined by his own self hate and incompetence.

He just scoffed at that, like the very notion of his luxury car and permanent retirement from life was so hard, something to just be brushed off like nothing.

"What about me? When will I stop being enough? Or have I already?" You asked, stopping his movements. He had already gotten the strings halfway down your ass, reaching just the top part of your bottom. Michael stilled, unmoving against your warm body.

"No, I can never get enough of you. I had to work on my marriage, but I never stopped thinking about you." Michael admitted, and that made your head hung low. You knew he was prone to just saying whatever would get him into your pants. He always knew what to say the exact words that would make you drop to your knees.

"Or maybe because I'm some pretty young thing who won't give you crabs." You tried to lighten the mood, tried to tease to cover up the aching hole the older man had unknowingly made inside you. He had created a Michael shaped hole in your heart that made you mourn during random hours of the day, and when he would fill it in the late hours of the night it soothed your bleeding heart.

"Hah, maybe." That made you tear up, eyes fluttering while he slipped off your bottoms, groping you fully. You could feel his hard on pressing into you, demanding its way onto you.

He slipped two calloused fingers down, tracing up and down your slit, gathering the wetness that has accrued.

"You act so fucking bratty, but you're so god damn wet." He barked in your ear, mocking you as he slipped a finger in. You sighed, rocking back against his fingers, wanting, needing more. Who knows when the next time he'll come back?

If ever.

"Come on, you know I can handle way more than that." You rushed, wanting to just get this over with and never wanting this to end.

He tugged on your hair, pulling at your scalp.

"Don't rush me, just shut up and look pretty." Michael's past actions would attest to that, he loved it when you argued, when you threw fits and pouted, he loved every minute of it. Because he knew that if he pushed you for enough, you'd beg for his cock, you'd be crying and whining for it, you'd be crying for him.

Michael never was the one to love a submissive woman, would he like to have one? Sure, any man would. But after a while it would get boring, there'd be no angry sex, no makeup sex, there'd be no back talk for him to shut up. Plus, it would be like speaking to a void, nothing important would actually be said, just a blank woman who agreed to everything and anything.

"Then fuck me silly, hey, that rhymed!" You laughed, before a moan got caught in your throat. Two more fingers shoved themselves into you, stretching you out quickly. It would've hurt more if you weren't already wet and near painfully horny. In truth, Michael was the only man you've slept with in a while. You've had flings with other people, maybe one or two serious relationships thrown in, but when you met Michael, an old depressed angry father, right up your alley might you add, at that disgusting old bar, well, everything and everyone else was thrown out the window. Then, you started seeing each other regularly, you dropped all the people you were talking to, even the sweet girl who had really taken an interest in you, and he had stopped going to cheap hookers, instead going to you solely to satisfy his sins.

He said nothing in response, merely just resuming his harsh treatment of your body, curling his fingers inside you beautifully, his memorization of your body never once faded. Your moans grew louder, curling into your counter until your stomach pressed painfully into the sharp edge.

"Just put it in me already, you old fuck." You spat, trying to push back against him. Michael pulled his fingers out, slapping your ass painfully.

"Watch your mouth when you're begging for my cock." He growled, nonetheless, he pulled down his zipper dutifully and fished himself out. He slid himself up and down your slit wetting himself with your juices, bumbling and pressing into your clit over and over again. It drove you absolutely crazy, unable to buck and finally just put himself into you. You arched, trying to entice him as much as you could, white knuckle gripping the sink.

Finally, finally he slowly slid into you, and you both let out a low groan. Michael must've been impatient, since he thrusted his way fully into you, filling you so fast it felt like he was in your ribs.

"Fuh-fuck Micky." You whined, and he wrapped his arms around your middle section and boobs, holding you tight while he absolutely rammed into you. Usually, because of his age and inactivity, he preferred to be on the bottom, let you do all the work. But he must've missed you, maybe he was pent up, or maybe he was taking his anger out on you. Either way, it felt heavenly, his thick cock ramming into you, feeling him drag inside you in and out at a brutal pace, not allowing you to think.

"Of course you like that, huh? Like my cock inside you, treating you like some cheap slut." He growled in your ear, and it would've made you wetter than you already were if you couldn't feel the cool metal digging into your boob. The reminder of what it meant searing into your soul. You hummed lowly, darting your eyes away from him, finding the counter suddenly interesting. Michael seemed to sense your mood shift, and slowed down, but he never stopped. Instead taking to shallow thrusts inside you.

"What's wrong?" He asked, more annoyance in his voice than care.

"Nothing, why'd you slow down?" You lied through your teeth, trying to buck your hips and resume his pace. But he held you tight and close, even if Michael never really worked out, and was closer to fifty than forty, he still had years worth of muscles underneath.

"Because your poutin', now tell me what's wrong?" He asked again, tone sharp and asking to be tested.

"Your ring." You spat out, feeling slightly ashamed.

"What about my ring?" Michael snapped at you, fully stopping his movements.

"It's digging into me." You knew that wasn't the only thing that bothered you, it haunted you almost everyday knowing you were technically a homewrecker. He had two kids and a wife waiting at home for him, and even if he complained about them, even if both him and his wife cheated on each other constantly, it was still wrong. Usually when you complained about his ring he moved his hand, or set it down gently to the side. But not this time.

Michael groaned, and in one swift movement he threw the ring across the house, and you heard it cling! loudly behind you.

"Michael-" You started to reprimand him, but he bent you over fully on your counter, and let you go. He placed his hands on the counter, using it to slam into you again.

"Oh fuck!" You yelled, eyes nearly rolling into your skull.

"Told you." He was breathless, and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

"To-told me wh-what?" You squealed when he pressed that delicate spongy spot inside you, making you see stars.

"I needed you, all I can think of is you. All your annoying remarks, the way you feel around me, how you look at me like I'm not an absolute piece of shit." Michael leaned down, pressing his head into your neck, nuzzling into you.

"Then why'd you leave?" You managed to gasp out, feeling your orgasm steadily appeared. That wave of pleasure was slowly crashing closer, it made the thoughts in your head become less coherent, nothing mattered aside from the way Michael made you feel.

"I didn't have a choice, I didn't want to. Had to. I never stopped thinking about you." He lifted one hand, and trailed it down, circling your aching clit. You keened, clamping down on him while your vision whited out. Michael grunted, fully pressing himself into you, and you could feel him filling you up, painting your soft walls white.

You both took a minute to breath, still connected while you panted. Slowly, slowly he pulled out of your over-sensitive walls, leaving you achingly empty. You and him just stood there, panting, unmoving.

“So, you gonna dip, or are you going to hang out here for a bit?” You asked, still a little breathless. There was that bitterness again because no matter what Michael said, he’d end up leaving one way or another.

“I think I’ll hang out here for a little bit.” He shrugged, and as you spared him a glance you watched him tuck himself away, not bothering to clean himself.

You sighed, hobbling over to your bathroom to grab a wet wipe to clean yourself up.

“Whatever.” You called out. “You know where the door is.”

Michae did end up staying for a week or two, sleeping in the same bed as you and spending any time he could with you. For a second you believed he really did change, that he really did want you, instead of what you could offer.

But one day, when you came home from work and called out to no response, you realized he was gone. You sighed, split between wanting to check under the couch or living your life with as little damage to your psyche as possible.

The former side of you won, your heart pounding in your ribcage. A new wave of sadness ushered over you, your heart aching as your stomach turned, pain overtaking your whole body.

He took the ring with him.

#michael de santa #michael townley #Michael de santa x reader #Michael townley x reader #micheal from gtav #gta v #gta 5 #x reader #smut #Michael de santa smut #grand theft auto 5 #gta smut #gta v smut #he makes me mentally ill #but i love him #also i have a sore throat and it's kicking my ASS

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