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rreskk · 1 year ago

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Too bad, too good

To everything who has sent a request, please be patient. I'll answer whenever I find the energy! Momentarily, I'm focussing on personal projects right now until I'm mentally ready to properly construct a good fanfiction based on your request. Thank you for understanding!

Summary: Trevor Philips was bad news. You always ended up alone, ended up alone with him in bed. The constant promises to stop seeing him, as he was nothing but a waste of time, you'd break them the moment you feel his touch again. He was addicting... Even worse than a drug.

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 3,549

TW: -Smut

NORTH YANKTON – 2002.

God, the memories. The fucking memories. It antagonises you… It beats you half to death. A situationship so haywire and undeserving. You can just remember the fresh touch of his appalling hands all over your body. The drooling sight of his lips hugging your nipples and kissing away the tears of pleasure that would tumble down your dampened cheek. He’d practically manhandle you with passion, leaving all sorts of blemish and stains upon your skin. Back then, it was something you were proud of. His cruel love was a trophy for you to walk around with, holding that throne high up before reality defaces you and then all your delusions became Hellish.

You were too infused in the attraction that you didn’t see the Devil on his shoulder, that “id” playing games with your ego. The worst part; he can’t even recognise his own destruction. This fucking guy, the same man to fuck you nice and good in that crappy motel room… That same man you invited to your own home. You thought that the purpose of his rough hands were to keep you safe from the dark nights, not realising that he used them hands to kill, rob, destroy, torture. He lived in the dark nights and you – so blinded in this darkness – couldn’t see.

Yet neither could he.

However, you couldn’t just stop yourself. You had to be obsessed. He had to be obsessed. The naive attraction, it was mutual to an extent of pure possession and lust. You were scared of his potential. He was a career criminal, someone who could end your life with the snap of his fingers, but you keep ending up in bed, in that cum-stained mattress as he’d moan your name continuously. Them sweet, sensual noises being the cure to your bad days (even if he was the cause of most). You were stuck in this “relationship” with chained bars that stabs your ankles relentlessly whenever there was an exit or escape. Or even a chance.

You just hoped that one day, after whatever “job” he’s doing, that it would be his final exit and you’d be able live the rest of your life without that aching attraction to a bad, bad man.

“Stop, hold on. You’re going out? Where?” His low voice muffled from the telephone line. You were sitting on the edge of your bed wearing a classy outfit for a night-out with some friends. He had called from a random telephone box since he was still travelling around the town, trying to find a good “job” with his guys.

“Down that new bar in town. The company’s hosting an opening night and there’s going to be local bands playing with free drinks.” You explained, holding the phone between your shoulders and head since you were too busy putting on high-heels.

“Free drinks? Who’re you going with?”

“A couple of friends. We’re all getting a taxi there. It’s gonna be fun! The poster at work says it starts at nine and ends near four.

“Four in the morning? Christ… Who are these friends? They ain’t gonna drug ya, right? Try and get in your pants or something? ‘cause I’ll kill em – Shut up, Mikey! I’ll call for how long I fuckin’ want, you piece of turd!” Trevor’s friend, Michael, could be heard urging him to drop the phone, almost deafening you in the process, “Sorry, baby. That bastard keeps fucking my ass… Anyways, I don’t like these friends of yours.”

His jealousy and “protectiveness” made you frown. Moments like these really tested your patience, and he knew how annoying you found it. But will he stop? No. It’s Trevor, for God’s sakes, he’ll get any piece of information and will use it against you whenever he feels an ounce of insecurity.

“You never even met them.” You huffed.

“Fuckin’ why I don’t like em. C’mon, sugar, I ain’t no pillock. I just don’t want my girl running off.”

“Let me have my independence Trevor.”

“Listen, have independence, have whatever the fuck you want, ay? But I’ll be super pissed if you replace me. Fuck guys, fuck chicks, I don’t care! Hey! I couldn’t give two fucks.” He growled, his anger more prominent as this conversation goes against his comfort zone.

“Stop acting like I’m one of your whores – “

“For the last fuckin’ time, I don’t play with whores!”

“But you do love good old pussies from women twice your goddamn age down at the grocery store, huh?” You snapped and interrogated his fetish of maternal figures. It was a secret he likes to keep hidden under thousands of scars (from a witch he calls his mother).

“Oh, fuck you…”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Trevor. Let me have fun for once. I don’t need to hold your fucking hand wherever I go!”

Trevor’s pitch grew louder, “You say too much, [y/n]. Too fuckin’ much. Go and have you little fuck fest, I couldn’t give a crap!”

“It’s not a fuck fest!” You protested, finding the “end call” button more desirable with every passing second.

“Don’t lie – “ And you did. You hung up and threw your mobile-phone away.

The night resumed as you arrived at this bar, the place buzzing with the majority of North Yankton’s population considering it was a small state with low statistics of citizens. It was refreshing. You’d smile at all these different types of people. It was freedom, alas!

In case there were certain… “substances” you’d like to purchase in order to party hard, you saved up the stash of cash Trevor would give you (after every successful robbery). In total, you had over $250. The notes were rolled up and figured by an elastic band. It was in the condition he gave you. There were tiny specs of dried blood and dirty that covers some of the notes but it was blankly ignored, it wasn’t like they’d fully inspect nor see these criminal details through the dim, flashing lights.

“How much for the MDMA?” You shouted over the music to this apparent drug dealer who had stashes of ecstasy locked in his pockets.

“How many pills you want, lady?”

Unlike him, you were reasonable (whenever drugs were involved). You showed him one finger and he nodded.

“One pill is $45!” He announced.

You breathed out in astonishment. In a way, this would be the only opportunity for low-budget drug-dealers to really make an earning since, as mentioned before, North Yankton had lack of population, and the main stereotypes living around these areas would be Catholic-Christian families.

“Uhhh…” You stared down at your wad of cash before sighing, giving him a few notes that totalled the correct amount.

“Cheers, lady! You won’t regret it!” You were given the pill as the guy quickly shuffled away to avoid unwanted attention.

In a matter of seconds, you had returned to your friends (who were all high on something other) and showed them the pink pill. It looked intimidating but wanting. They began chanting you to pop it, handing a cup of cold beer to wash it down.

Everyone in this club were dancing and raving like it was the last supper. Your friends buggered off somewhere else and you were left, that pill slowly melting in your hand due to sweat. You wanted to try it, you really did – but the “what ifs” and “what could possibly happen.”

“I need to get my moneys worth.” You’d murmur to yourself, staring at this dissolving substance in your hand. You only live once, you only live once, you only live once… But – yet again – you couldn’t even hype yourself up.

“There goes my $45…” You watched the pill just fall out of use, sighing while also feeling relieved. The leftover particles crumbled to the floor until someone accidentally rushed into you, their alcoholic beverage spilling on your fine, short dress. You realised they must have been high as fuck since they giggled (statically) and wobbled off, believing that their cup was still… Full.

So, being left with a damp dress, you managed to find the ladies bathroom after pushing through the crowd of unconscious minds. There were a few others standing in front of the mirror, brushing their hair and such. You stood in between them both to rub away the excess of whatever drink was thrown. It was a peaceful atmosphere in the bathrooms. Both ladies had left when finished applying fresh make-up, etc, leaving you alone to recollect thoughts and social energy.

“Just enjoy your night… No worries, no stress, no – “ Your mobile phone, which was stuffed in your purse, began ringing.

You rummaged through your bag and found it, flipping the phone before an unrecognisable number was calling. You raised an eyebrow and answered, pressing the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

The line was still connected so you leaned against the sink and waited. It was static until it went silent.

“Hello?” You repeated.

Then that familiar gruffy voice connected to the other end. He cleared his throat, the background noise of musky, icy wind

“Oh, so you ain’t dropped dead in a dumpster?” Trevor smugly teased as you answered your phone-call.

Not this guy again, you thought yourself.

“Wow, hi, Trevor.”

“Ouch… Don’t be so short on me, [y/n]. Not havin’ a nice time? Want Uncle T to pick you up?”

“Can you go a few hours without calling, please?” You pled, finding his attachment issues overwhelming.

“Listen, me and the guys have finished our fuckin’ boys weekend or whatever. I got a taxi comin’ soon. We’re staying at the motel we used to go to.” He had completely ignored your request.

“Cool, yeah. Nice – “

“Are you partied out or what? I wanna see you again, before any other dick catches you first… Unless you already found a guy? You better not.”

“No, I have not hooked up with anyone.” You mumbled.

“Why you mumbling? You sad about that, sugar? Are you sad no guy ain’t swept you off your feet? ‘Cause that’s my fuckin’ job. Be outside in 25 or I’m comin’ in.”

“Trevor – “ But the line was cut. You had no other choice now.

“That fucking asshole!” Once again, you had threw your phone out of spite. It fell onto the floor, not bothering to pick it up. That peace you once had the moment you stepped into the bathroom, it was now gone. Thank you, Trevor Philips. You at least hoped you could attempt to enjoy the night until four in the morning but of course, a certain someone had to pull you away before it could reach midnight.

It was pathetic.

You just wanted to block him but he was using another public telephone box. He also didn’t use a main phone, so there was no reliable number (in case you were to call him), but you preferred not to. If you ever did meet up, it was under his circumstance, not yours… “For my safety.” He’d say when you’d question this, then ramble on about the police tracking him, all that disorderly business (Which you try and avoid).

Nevertheless, time went on. Minutes after minutes after minutes. He may have underestimated the weather as it was snowing, heavily. You had to sit beside the front entrance and wait like a total moron. You watched these couples walk in and out, some laughing, some kissing, the majority were high (as well). They didn’t notice you sitting alone on the side, your purse tucked into your chest. The music from the main room was booming so the whole place was vibrating as a result. Your chair, that wasn’t even comfortable in the first place, was shuttling uncontrollably.

Eventual heavy footsteps occurred and when you glanced up, there he was. Your mullet man, the human version of a migraine. He had his green winters coat loosely wrapped around, a thick sweater underneath as well as the same pairs of faded, ripped jeans and some combat boots. Trevor saw you and smiled. He had snow particles in his moustache and strands of hair (that was tucked under the beanie he wore).

“There she is!” He proposed and gave you a tight embrace.

You struggled to hug back but when his arms wrapped around your waist, everything suddenly felt alright. You sighed and fell into his arms, hugging back.

“You took your time.” You spoke against his neck.

“Taxi driver refused to drive any fuckin’ faster,” Trevor pulled away until his smile turned into a scowl. He squinted his eyes at your short dress, “Woah, sugar. Why did you choose that dress? It’s cold outside. You’re gonna freeze your tits off.”

“I’ll warm up in the car.”

“You always say that but still complains about your toes going numb.”

“Shush!” You groaned.

“Yeah, yeah…” He held you closer before observing the front room, “So, this is the place? Looks real shady, I like it.”

“Of course you would.”

“Any druggies around?” He hoped.

You paused, not wanting to admit buying ecstasy that you didn’t even digest. Besides, you didn’t want to agree because you know he’ll drag you back into the main rooms to get some himself… And then, as it usually occurs, you’d have to escort him out like a bouncer. He had low tolerance for drugs and would pass out from an overdose, you had a feeling.

“No,” Trevor scowled at your response, “No druggies. Now can we go?”

“Oh, so you’re the one wanting to go now?” He grinned.

“You are already here?”

“Save your spunk for tonight, girlfriend. Fine, our carriage awaits outside!”

“The taxi car…” You mumbled and followed him.

When you were both seated at the back, Trevor gave the driver your address and the journey started. You both sat in silence. He’d occasionally let his hand gently caress your thigh. His eyes perked at your dress that was showing off quite a lot of your skin. You knew but decided to ignore it. Watching the scenery fly by from the window, Trevor frowned as your attention to him lacked. He tugged your skirting and mumbled your name.

“What?” You’d whine, quiet enough for the driver not to hear.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just enjoying the peace.”

“I don’t like the peace.”

“Oh, that’s a ‘you’ problem.”

Trevor scoffed, “What’s up with you? Little miss shit yourself?”

“Don’t start.” You warned.

“Jesus Christ, [y/n]. I really don’t know what the whole fuckin’ deal is. You got mad at nothin’.”

“Says the angry criminal who has severe mother issues and drug addictions!” Now this was loud enough for the driver to hear. The poor man made eye-contact with you through the rear mirror. You’ve never seen someone so concerned.

“You take that back!” Trevor demanded, pointing a finger at your face.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Is everything okay – “

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DRIVE!” The taxi man was rudely yelled at by Trevor as the car almost swerved due to his outburst. You yelped and grabbed the door-handle for some support, the car going silent.

You took a deep breath before closing your eyes – trying your upmost best to keep… Calm.

“I’m just up here on the right…” You whispered, breaking the silence.

The car pulled up and you both got out. Without him knowing, you paid the driver double the amount as an apology. He gracefully accepted it, keeping a close eye on Trevor (clearly out of fear). The taxi finally drove off, leaving you both alone together outside your house.

“It’s so fuckin’ cold.” He grumbled and took the key from your hand, welcoming himself into your home.

You followed close behind. Trevor threw off his jacket and turned on the lights. You held every strength to not hit him right now. Whenever you look at him, rage just fuels your mind. The way he ruffled his mullet and brushed the tip of his fingers across his moustache. He walked up beside you, gently rubbing your shoulders and whispering in your ear.

“Don’t be angry at me, baby. I’m only looking out for you.” His breath making your spine spaz and shiver.

“You’re not good for me…” You whispered and fell into his arms.

“I know. But what’s bad without some good, ay?” He kissed your cheek warmly and smiled, “You’re beautiful.”

Knowing this was just some sweet talk to defuse the tension, abusing his charms to make him… Not so the “bad guy.” you relished and sighed. You wanted to stay angry, you wanted to quit seeing him. It was so hard to, though. His lean hands adventured lower as they reintroduced themselves with your thighs. Trevor kissed the back of your neck. He knew your weaknesses and that bloody bastard will trigger it.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“You probably forgot about me the moment you go to them strip-joints or whatever…”

He giggled and held your back against his chest, “If it makes you feel better, I pretend they are you.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I am not a liar. I’m strictly honest, my sweet. At the end of the day, I just pretend every fine stripper is you because I miss you.”

“Trevor…” You grumbled.

“I know…” He had kissed your cheek again, “But it’s true.”

“You are really bad for me.”

“Say that again.”

“You are reall – “ And he grabbed your jaw, his lips colliding with yours. You had gasped at the sudden kiss. He completely swallowed your words and kissed you passionately, your surroundings becoming dizzy and surreal.

Trevor pulled away and smirked when you grew disappointed. He nibbled your earlobe and whispered once again.

“Bend over.”

You chewed on your lower lip and nodded. Leaning over your sofa, he had pulled your skirt up and slapped your ass.

“I love you, baby.” He’d seduce while fondling every ounce of your curvy legs and hips.

“Jesus…” You covered your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut. Hearing the zipper of his flies, you couldn’t help but desperately grind your ass against his now naked crotch.

Trevor cackled and forced you to remain in the same position. He used his pinkie to pull your undies aside, gently caressing your intimacy with a hardened thumb. You heaved out a shaky breath when he’d rub your clit, enjoying the way your legs struggled to hold your body weight.

“Easy goes…” He praised.

“Trevor, c’mon…”

“I’m cum on you in a second, babe.”

You rolled your eyes before –

“FUCK!”

He had pushed his cock inside your pussy, holding your waist so you remained lined up. His hands helped steady the pace as you both moaned through the heated affections.

“Fuck, I’ve been… Fuckin’ waiting for this all fuckin’ week…” Trevor heaved lowly and thrusted back into your sex.

“Oh, shit!”

“My sexy girl, ohhh… I’m a lucky man.”

You’d accidentally push the sofas forward as he was fucking you rough. Small squeals would leave your wet lips and the thought of him being a 24/7 asshole had escaped your pleasured mind. You rocked back into his dick and whimpered when his crotch slapped your ass in the process.

“God, Trevor!”

“Urgh, fuck – “ Trevor whimpered, “I fuckin’ love you, [y/n]. Shit!”

“I want it so bad, baby!”

“You do, huh?”

“Yes, yes! Harder!” And you didn’t even have to say “please.”

“Of course, yes… Anything,” He’d pathetically pant while speaking, “Anything for you, anythi – Ohhh… Shit!”

Now he was fucking you much harder, definitely leaving behind a red rashes from where his pubes would grind your skin. The situation was haywire. He was bad news but it didn’t stop him from making you feel so good. He continued thrusting in and out for minutes straight, your house echoed with moans and wasteful cries.

“I’m gonna cum!” You announced when a tingling grew more strong.

Trevor allowed a small gasp to pass as he was racing into your pussy. He pressed his face against the back of your neck and repeated the merciful chants of your name.

“Oh, oh! – “ The feeling grew more intense and you practically used one hand to reach behind, grabbing his wrist that stationed on your waist.

“Fuck ME!” He growled, his cock squirting and leaking his semen, breeding you with the warm liquid. You fell into a state and your knees collapsed, holding the sofa for stability as you too came.

One second turned to 5 minutes and you were still entangled in each other’s bodies. Trevor was the first to move as he’d slowly put away his penis and rub your back.

“Pretty girl.” Murmured Trevor, kissing your cheek and smiling when you finally found mobility.

“You’re an idiot, Trevor.” You smiled playfully.

“An idiot who knows how to treat you better than any other turd out there, [y/n]. Remember that!”

“How could I forgot?”

“You won’t, ‘cause you’ll never forget about me,” He smirked, “I’ll always be around.”

And you knew. The cycle always went from arguments, jealousy, possessiveness, intimacy. It was a horrid potion yet it was your favourite potion.

“Are you gonna stay the night or what?” You called out, limping up the stairs.

“No, I’ll just sleep outside, yeah?”

“Shut up and come on then!”

Trevor happily giggled and ran up, following you up the dark stairs.

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duchessdorklord · 1 year ago

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I finished it fuckers, enjoy

#trevorphillips #trevorxreader #trevor x reader #trevor philips #gtacommunity #gtav #gta5 #gta #wattpad #fanfiction #fanfic friday #gta v fanfiction #gta5xreader

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gta5-catlady-ao3 · 6 months ago

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Michael may not actually have a scar (Cherrysodda mentioned this). Since this was a planned sting operation to lure Brad and Trevor out in the open, Michael would have been protected in some form or another, such as being the only one with a bulletproof vest! The other boys clearly don't have one, but it is an added possibility.

A second possibility: In the beginning sequence, we clearly see Michael gesturing to Dave to shoot after Brad goes down, and it seems Dave misses? I don't know if that is just the early 2010s gaming software or if that is intentional, but it seems that this may have been a part of the plan. (This would also mean that the 'blood' we see coming from Michael is somewhat fake as we see a spurt but it looks like there's nothing on his shirt?? It's hard to really tell, but we can make a bet that David shot, purposely missed, and Michael acted his way out of this to avoid actually being injured.

Heisentwerk, in the comments, has said that Trevor also has a lightning bolt on the side of his left wrist.

It seems that Franklin may also have ambitions to someday return to school. As hkbingo2000 said, while smoking Franklin makes some comments discussing becoming a doctor. Whether or not he's actually being serious while under the influence, is still an interesting thought! We later get a confirmation, however, that in GTA: Online, he is in charge of a large celebrity agency that deals with high-profile demands. Maybe he really wanted to be a doctor?

Adayinmymeadow also said that Ron posts on Lifeinvader that he sees Trevor's mom at some point (making my earlier tidbits flawed). We can take several paths with this one. 1. It is a shared hallucination. 2. It is not a hallucination for Ron, but given that Ron feeds into whatever Trevor says, he may just be agreeing with Trevor and playing into the idea that Mrs. Phillips is in town to please Trevor or 3. Mrs. Phillips was actually in town after being released from prison and leaving when she found it most convenient. Adatinmymeadow also brought up the possibility of Ron killing Mrs. Phillips as well, which can be an interesting take.

Trevor is a cannibal. Or at least, has tasted human meat occasionally. It doesn't seem to be a common enough thing, not like he's eating like Hannibal Lector every night, but I'm willing to guess that the best way to hide a body is to get rid of it the best way he knew how....do what you want with that information.

After the events, Trevor is canonically a lifestyle coach living in Los Santos (this is seen in GTA online). He is actually quite successful in this day job. There is some speculation, however, if he is still in 'the game'.

Trevor has cartel connections and regularly delivers weapons to them, at least during the events of GTA: 5.

Trevor seems to have been a part of a foster care system, possibly due to his unfit parents, but he states, in his own words, that he has been in as many as fourteen different homes.

Trevor was so well-versed in golf that he could have turned pro.

All three boys were involved in some sort of petty crime in their youth.

It seems that Michael is the only one who never considered changing his life around until he was much older (his wife and kids being a large initiative in this decision) while the other characters choose crime because of the circumstances they find themselves in. Meaning, that Michael truly loves crime and only got out of it for the safety of his family, while the other two were more or less pulled in because it was their last option. Franklin was clearly stuck in a system that was constantly being pushed against him. Whether it be growing up in a poor community in Los Santos, his friends joining gangs, or realizing that his opportunities would be few and far between, Franklin chooses the life of crime because he feels like he's out of options (and it just so happens he meets a rather interesting mentor like character to help him in this journey). Trevor tried to enter the military to make a better life for himself but was rejected due to his failure on his psychological test before he could get 'his wings.' While working his way on petty crime, he comes across Michael and sets off their firey partnership. With nowhere else to really turn to, and the infamous flare gun story, Trevor takes up the mantle of being a criminal, and a rather good one at that.

Trevor doesn't become addicted to meth until he moves to Sandy Shores. It's easy to say that maybe Trevor wasn't even an addict prior to the North Yankton incident, and simply turned to drugs to deal with the loss of Michael.

It is implied, through GTA online, that Ron no longer works for Trevor.

GTA Online also confirms that Trevor did have an affair with Patricia Madrazo.

GTA Online implies that Franklin has more or less cut ties with Trevor. There is a scene in which someone 'dressed like a hobo' tries to shit on Franklin's desk when he comes in wishing to see Franklin. It's a good guess to say that this is Trevor, and it has been some time since either of them have interacted. This same mission also says that Franklin may still contact Michael, however. We can take the idea that Franklin just doesn't want Trevor around his children, as he is seen not allowing even Lamar to come into his home when his children are there.

Michael had an abusive father growing up, he later abandoned him. His mother would come up with a million, and frankly, strange excuses on why he left. Such as "being hit by a train."

When Michael first met Amanda, as I previously mentioned, he had bought her a pair of fake boobs to enhance her career as a stripper. This also helped her as a prostitute as well, and Michael was pretty much in charge of her. So, in a way, he was a pimp who founded his own prostitution ring with his soon-to-be-wife.

Post GTA: 5, it is implied that Michael still works as a producer with Richard.

I mentioned above that Franklin left highschool, but didn't give the reason as to why: he was expelled for assaulting a teacher.

Franklin was in the same class with Lamar, Tanisha, and Tonya.

Franklin joined the 'gangbanging' lifestyle and started selling drugs. His petty crimes later caught up with him when he was arrested and sent to prison when he was only 20. This caused him to want to turn his life around, and when he was released, turned to a more stable form of life. However, the job he would get would be a 'repo' man who involuntarily commits insurance fraud for his boss.

Although we see the rocky relationship Franklin has with Tanisha throughout GTA: 5, and her announcement of an engagement to another man at the end of the story, at some point, she calls off that wedding and gets back with Franklin. They later get married and have kids of their own. They are still together.

Things we might have forgotten in GTA5

In many fanfics scoping the internet, I had to compile a list of things some players tend to forget. Many of them are small, but others are pretty good for character enhancements, I hope you enjoy it!

(Also most of them are about Trevor lmao, but I tried to stretch it for all of them)

Franklin went to prison prior to the events of the game causing him to want to reevaluate his life and eventually getting a real job with Lamar.

Michael was a football quarterback in his youth.

Trevor played hockey and golf growing up.

Trevor had a brother (named Ryan) who disappeared under mysterious circumstances, some believing Trevor had been the root behind it, but nothing was proven.

Keep reading

#gta5 #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips #michael de santa #michael townley #franklin clinton

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darling-i-read-it · 2 years ago

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Reunion

Trevor Philips x fem!reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: smut, unprotected smut, gta5 story spoilers,

Author’s Note: I am very aware this is the randomest thing to post. I have been replaying gta5. I am in love with Trevor. He’s my best friend, he’s the funnest to play, and I need him (nefarious motives). I unironically have a part 2 to this I’ve half written where the reader and Trevor meet up with Michael so let me know if anyone is invested <3 This is partly inspired by me going into the strip club to go to the atm and then going batshit insane. i am no better than a man but it is never the women im objectifying.

Summary: The reader did the original heist with Brad, Michael and Trevor. Afterwards, when everyone got split up, Lester told the reader that both Trevor and Michael were dead. After the jewelry store the reader wonders if he was lying about both of them. The reunion is filled with anger and also long lasting tension.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You see him at all? After the incident?” Michael’s voice trailed off into a feign disinterest. Lester and him both knew; this is what the conversation had been leading up to. The conversation had dissipated away from the task at hand, casing the jewelry store. Neither of them seemed to care.

“I kept tabs on him for a while. Needed to know that he didn’t blame me,” Lester complained, reminding them both of the idicotic ways of their former friend.

“Yeah, where’d he go?” Michael questioned, trying to be nonchalant.

“North, south, east, west. Wherever there were liquor stores to turn over and hitchhikers to disappear.” There was a beat of silence as Michael climbed further up the roof to get a better vantage point. The words could have remained in the air, if Michael hadn’t pushed further.

“Where did they bury him?”

“They buried him? Not as far as I know.”

He wanted to ask. He knew he had to.

“You see her?”

Lester was glad Michael couldn’t see his face. It was a knowing look. Oh God, Michael wanted to talk about her again! Something so familiar that it didn’t even seem out of place, not even after everything.

“No. She left all together.”

“She still…she still around?”

“She’s alive if that’s what you’re asking. Moved, made a better life for herself. Better than he could’ve gaven her. Or you for that matter. Still got the bullet wound to prove she was there though. Physical therapy for months on that shoulder.”

Michael was hit with a sudden pang of nostalgia. He thought about the pandering, the vein attempts to make himself look better for you. The fight’s he and Trevor used to have all the time, arguments on who deserved you and who would get you. He had hoped you were oblivious. Now he wasn’t so sure he believed that.

“I told her he was dead.”

Michael paused on the roof, his movements only momentarily stunned.

“You feel bad about that?”

“It was the only thing to do. She would’ve found him. They would’ve found you. Bad for everyone.”

“And especially your cover.”

“Especially that.”

You were living a life where both he and Trevor were dead. You had moved on because it was the only thing you were able to do. He yearned to know what it could’ve been like if things hadn’t gone to hell. The danger was intoxicating but never as intoxicating as you.

He thought about Amanda. How she had never been you, how that’s the reason he was never able to love her the way he wanted. Clearly she had never loved him quite as much either, as was the case from her tennis performance. You were out there somewhere.

“I don’t wanna know,” he decided. If Lester told him even the smallest thing, a job, a marriage, a kid��he would go looking. He knew himself better than that.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you if you asked.”

Another short beat. He was almost to the highest vantage point.

“She deserved better than both of you. But you have to know she would’ve always chosen him.”

“There’s no need to hash up old shit okay? I was just asking to see who was still around. There’ll never be a better get away driver than her.” Even his deflection felt fake and vein. Lester saw right through it but decided to let it be. Michael thought of Franklin, diverging his thoughts. He could have him work, train him, mold him. He huffed as he got to the highest point.

“Now just to take a picture of the vent up there,” Lester said, evenly. The conversation was over. They wouldn’t talk about you or Trevor again today.

You were sitting at the small dining room table of your apartment. It was more of an island honestly but you called it the dining table because it was the best you could get. Los Santos was an expensive city and you were lucky to have found a place you could afford at all. Not that you weren’t doing well here.

The television was on to the news, though you weren’t necessarily paying attention. You poked at your mashed potatoes, proud of yourself for making anything tonight. You grabbed the remote with the intention of changing it to a shitty reality TV show when the screen shifted. ‘Breaking News’ painted the bottom of the television in red. A man was speaking but the volume was too low to hear it. You turned it up, out of sheer curiosity. You were reminded of a life before this one, a bang of guilt in your chest that you had desperately tried to get rid of.

Was it the guilt that brought the nostalgia forward? Or was it the way they reported it to be set up? Was it the cars, the hacking, the timing? Was it the sheer familiarity that made you sit forward? Or was it the fact that looked exactly like a Michael Townley job?

“You forget a thousand things everyday,” the witness said, shaken, “make this one of them.”

Your food was forgotten. Your face had gone blank with confusion.

“That motherfucker,” you muttered. The urge to throw something came back with his face in your head, the funeral you went to, the life you left. You saw his face on a big portrait and cried in front of it, wishing you had been faster. You left before ever seeing if anyone held a funeral for Trevor but now you wished you had stayed. What if you had spent all this time alone when they were out there, somewhere. What if Trevor was still alive?

The TV was now a ghost. It was now a time long forgotten. It was the bullet wound in your shoulder that now ached, something you hadn’t felt in a long while. That jewelry store was in Los Santos. It was here. Michael was here.

Lester told you him and Trevor were dead.

You searched for your phone. You didn’t have his number anymore, you couldn’t. He had changed it. He was too smart to keep the one he had years before. You recklessly searched anyway, knocking over the chair you were sitting in, tossing your pillows aside. Finally you grasped the phone in your hand, frantically searching in your contacts. His name remained, under L, and you called the number. It rang and rang and rang. You were already starting to think about how you would find him when the line picked up. Your breath caught.

“Y/N.”

“You fucker. You motherfucker. You fucking fucker.” You almost didn’t recognize the voice coming out of your mouth, you were so dedicated to the rage you felt. It was almost Trevor’s, almost the same cadence that you had picked up from him. It was amazing how fast all of that came back to you. How, just like that, you were her again. You weren’t her anymore, even when you took a turn too fast or knew the fastest routes out of an issue.

“What are you talking-”

“You know what I’m talking about,” you seethed. You failed to think about how he had kept the phone just for you, just in case you needed him one day. It didn’t even cross your mind that Lester had loved you too, that they all had. You were friends in the purest sense of the word. You were all each other's people. Now, you hadn’t heard or talked to Brad since he was arrested. Now you were a different person.

Lester was laying low but he still answered your call.

“I don’t know-”

“Is he dead?” You couldn’t say his name.

“Michael? “

“No.”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you.” There was a bitterness in your voice you almost didn’t recognize. Her, her, her. When did you stop being her? “Lester tell me the fucking truth.”

“I don’t know. I used to follow him but there was no use.”

“What do you mean you used to follow him?” There was a long pause. Too long. “What do you mean?” You sat down slowly on the chair by your island. You grabbed the edge of the counter. Your knuckles were strained. “Did he live?”

Silence.

You were gonna kill Lester. You were gonna kill him and you were gonna enjoy it.

“Where did you see him last?”

“Sandy Shores. But that was ye-” You hung up the phone. You should’ve asked about Michael, you knew you should’ve. You wanted to but the anger was too much. If you saw Michael now, you’d kill him with your bare hands. Sandy Shores was not a large place. And you were a determined person.

Trevor looked in the mirror at the tattoo he had for Michael Townley, his dead best friend. His formally dead best friend. On his other arm was a tattoo for the only girl he had ever really loved. She was supposedly dead too.

He broke the mirror with a fist. His knuckles started to bleed from the glass cuts. He ignored it. Ron was standing in the doorway, shaking, leaning over. Trevor almost made a shitty joke about his posture but for some reason, he didn’t. He had already sent Wade to find Michael Townley but he had kept you to himself. He wanted to find you but he’d do that with his own two hands. No one else needed to know you were out there. If you were out there. A Townley job did not mean you were still alive. Just because Michael lived didn’t mean you had.

“What the fuck do you want Ron?”

“Sorry boss.” He moved out of the doorway, down the steps outside. He looked around eagerly, glancing back at Trevor but not holding eye contact too long. Trevor followed him outside and walked past him. “Bikers had been scoping out here while you were gone.”

“Did you tell them to fuck off?”

“No?”

“Well next time, tell em to fuck off!” Trevor approached his truck with the intention of going to the city himself to find Michael. Michael would know if you were alive.

Trevor thought about that time little. He thought about leaving his friend, about the bullets that flew past him, the moment he knew he would never see you again. He thought about the bullet wound in your shoulder, the one in him, the wounds that will never fully heal. A constant reminder of the near death experience he lived through and shouldn’t have. In drunken nights he always wished it had been you who was in his place. You would’ve made a life. Had you made a life? Had you done it without him?

He hopped in the truck. He needed more booze.

“Where ya going boss?” Ron questioned.

“Bar.” He started the engine. It rumbled to life underneath him and it was already hot from the heat. He turned his head to Ron. “Get lost Ron.”

Ron nodded eagerly, already starting to stumble away. Trevor needed to clear his head. He needed to cloud his head some. He pulled away, mentally going through the map closest to him. If he went to a strip club, he was extra sure not to think about anything else. But the better booze was always cheaper at just a bar. If he went all the way to the city he could search for Michael at the bottom of a bottle.

All of those options seemed like good options. He wanted to beat the shit out of somebody. He should probably stay in Sandy Shores to do that. But where’s the fun in doing what you’re probably supposed to do? He made a sharp turn, almost running over a girl crossing the street.

“Hey don’t you see I’m driving here!” he yelled, feeling better already knowing he had probably ruined someone's day with their near death experience.

“Watch where you’re fucking going! Jesus Christ, some people don’t know how to fucking drive,” you called, anger lacing your voice.

The cogs turned at the same time.

You were standing on the side of the road, in the dust of the truck. You stopped walking completely, replaying that voice in your head again like it was your favorite song. The familiarity ached at you. You knew it the second you heard it.

Trevor had gotten about half way down the road when he hit the brakes. Hard. He was in the middle of an intersection. People were honking at him but he just sat there, both hands on the wheels, eyes squinted in confusion.

With ease he put the car in reverse. Much to the dismay of the few drivers around him, he backed up. You were staring at the truck as it did so, not sure if you should laugh or cry or yell or have any reaction at all.

He stopped beside you, head turned. You stared at each other for a moment. Eyes so familiar it was like coming home after a long time away. Like the feeling of your own sheets but someone else had made the bed.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost sweetheart,” he hummed, his voice as cocky as it had always been. “Which can’t be true because if I remember, you’re my ghost.” Your lips parted. You approached the truck and he let you, wordlessly. You were in shock. You were stunned. There had to be a word for seeing a ghost from your past you thought was dead. You wrapped your fingers around the edge of the door.

“You motherfucker,” you whispered, in awe.

“I’m the motherfucker?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not the motherfucker.” You wanted to hit him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to slash his car tires. You wanted to take him home.

“I thought you were dead. I mourned you, Trev.” The car behind him honked. Neither of you had even noticed they were there. You both turned and it was like you were possessed by your respective ghosts.

“Can’t you tell we’re having a fucking moment?!” Trevor yelled. They honked again. Trevor pulled out a handgun. You watched him wordlessly. He shot the window. He missed. The car quickly diverged around and was gone in the dust again. You opened up the car door, his gun still smoking. He watched you, eyes curious. He thought he had memorized your entire body but now that you were there in front of him he realized his memory had never done it justice. You shut the door behind you and turned to him. The hand with the gun was slung against the passenger seat.

“I need a drink,” you muttered. He chuckled lowly.

“My girl.” He started to move forward again. Closest bar would do, he decided.

Lester wasn’t sure if he should even tell Michael. It was probably for the best that none of them had any contact for a while after the robbery. He had set that rule himself. They would lay low, stay straight, stay away from each other. Still, after the phone call with you it seemed stupid to not let Michael know, in some capacity, that you were going to be looking for him. Maybe he was more worried about you finding Trevor and then dealing with the aftermath of the havoc the two of you could bring.

Lester stared at his phone. He could text Michael. He could call. He could drop a place to meet. He knew that his friend would come if he asked, ever the rulebreaker. If you and Trevor remerged together that would be bad for everyone. That was bad for this whole thing.

Lester finally picked up the phone. He decided a text would do.

She knows.

Michael picked up his phone. He had been desperately attempting to hide from his kids and Amanda. He was glad for it, honestly, that the life he had chosen had chosen him back. But when he saw the text from the number with no photo with it, his jaw tightened. He had told Lester he figured Trevor was dead but now a risk was going to have to be made. You were out there and you were either looking for him (which was bad) or Trevor (which was worse).

Trevor and you were better off thinking the other was dead. The world was better for it. The money, the people, the general crime rate were all better for it.

“I want the TV,” Tracey said, approaching him. Her voice was muffled. It was like he was hearing her from underwater. “Dad. Give me the remote.” He looked up at her then, eyes still wide from worry. She made no note of his mood. He handed her the remote. He stood up, grabbing his car keys from the side table.

“Where do you think you're going?” Amanda questioned when he ran into her in the hall. He didn’t come up with an excuse fast enough and the judgemental look in her eyes creeped in.

“Gonna try and find an old friend,” he admitted.

“Yeah? How old?” Amanda dripped in annoyance. Did he mean a stripper? Did he mean a criminal? Somehow she knew it would negatively affect her.

“Old.” He pushed past her. Amanda looked at him and knew there were only two options to that answer. Neither were good.

Michael opened his phone to Lester’s number.

Where?

You sat beside each other in a bar that wasn’t memorable, drinks in hand you didn’t know the name of. You sat as close to him as you could get, legs touching. You didn’t want to ever not be touching him again.

“I had no idea,” you told him. “Lester told me you died.”

“Fucker.”

“I know, I know. Trust me, I’ve got a bullet with his name on it.” You took a sip of your drink. He looked at you, watching eagerly. You looked different. Well, you looked the same, but the clothes you were wearing were different. You must’ve had some sort of office job that required clothes on you he had never seen before. You used to steal his shit all the time, when it was clean. “I’ve got seven bullets for Townley. I’m makin sure that motherfuckers dead this time.”

Trevor smiled.

“Fuck girl, I thought you bled out from that shoulder wound. I thought I left you there.”

“You did leave me.” He glared at you. You had told him to leave and he did, only after you begged. “Lester told me you were gunned down in the escape.”

“You saw the fucking jewelry-”

“Yup.” You shook your head. “Bold of him. Really bold.” You finished your glass. You pulled down your blouse at the shoulder, revealing the bullet wound scar. He put his hand on your shoulder. He hadn’t touched your skin since seeing you again. It made you shiver. He poked it, making you roll your eyes. “Don’t be a dick.”

“All I know how to be.”

He rubbed it with his thumb, shaking his head.

“Looks like it hurt.”

“Yeah well.” You put your sleeve back up.

“So you haven’t seen him?”

“Nope. Went to find you first.”

“I’ve always been your favorite,” he bragged. You rolled your eyes, a sly smile playing on your face. It was true. It had always been that way. “You got any leads?” You were more reliable than Wade.

“Lester know’s where he is. I was gonna pay him a visit anyway.” “Well there’s no time like the present,” he offered. You gave him a look. He couldn’t read it. People skills had never been something he was particularly good at. You tilted your head.

“You haven’t seen me in nine years and you wanna go find Michael right now?”

His eyes went wide.

“Nine years and she finally admits it.”

“You knew it then. Don’t pretend you didn’t.” He did remember it. He remembered all of it, every second of it. He leaned in.

“I’ve got a shitty trailer with a shitty bed.”

“That sounds like heaven right now Trev,” you said under your breath. He had been wanting to kiss your lips as long as he had known you. It took so much of him not to do it all the time when you saw each other regularly. After he thought you were dead, he regretted not doing it every chance he had.

You threw money at the bartender, too much he noted, and piled into his truck. Your lips were on each others before the car even stopped. You crawled over the middle of the truck, wondering if you would even make it to the bed, wondering if you even needed to.

Ron came rushing out of the front door, talking before he registered, “Boss the bik-” He stopped, literally putting a hand over his mouth. It wasn’t odd to find Trevor fucking a girl in his truck but Ron knew he didn’t like to be interrupted. Trevor left your lips for only long enough to speak.

“Get the fuck out of here Ron!” He nodded, scrambling away. You popped open the truck door and slid out. You weren’t touching Trevor for a mere moment and he grabbed you again, pulling you towards him. “You’re not getting outta here again,” he promised, voice low and threatening. You smiled brightly.

Ron opened the door to his place nearby and peaked through the window. You were dragging Trevor behind you, hands interlocked, a puppy dog look in his eyes. Ron was used to seeing Trevor with girls. He wasn’t used to seeing Trevor with girls he liked. He lost the two of you as you entered the trailer.

Trevor’s lips didn’t leave yours, even when the door hit him from behind. He hugged you close to him. How close could he get to you? How close could he make you so that you never left him again?

You hadn’t expected Trevor’s lips to taste so good. You expected beer or weed or unbrushed teeth or something shitty but something about them was intoxicating. He had a firm grip on your ass, pulling you closer to him. You tripped over something on the ground. You pulled away to see where you were going.

The trailer was a mess. There were beer cans littering the ground, half naked girls on the walls, unwashed dishes in the sink. He let go of you just to move shit off of his unmade bed. He grabbed the pictures he had of girls and tore them off his wall.

“Disrespectful,” he grumbled, kissing you again. And just like that you could have been anywhere in the world and it didn’t matter. You had waited long enough.

He was clawing at your clothes with one hand while the other dragged up your back under your shirt. You shoved him down onto the bed. He chuckled, falling onto his back.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“Think?” You crawled on top of him, cupping his face in your hands. Why hadn’t you done this before? Why hadn’t you done this so many times? His hands reached for your shirt and it wasn’t until then that it hit him. You were alive. You were here. You were in his arms. He had beat the stupid longstanding fight him and Michael would always spat about over drinks. You were here, with him. He took off your shirt.

“God woman.” He cupped your breasts, eyes wide like they were gonna pop out of his head. You put your finger under his chin.

“Eyes are up here Trev.” He kissed you like he would never be able to do it again. He needed to be on top. The rising tension in his sweats were hard to ignore as you sat on top of him. He could feel your every movement. You slid your hands slowly up his shirt and then down again, fingertips electric. You hummed as you trailed kisses down his chin. While you were distracted he flipped you onto the bed. You made a surprised noise that caused him to chuckle.

“My girl.” He took off his shirt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept with a girl and wanted to make it last. When was the last time it was less fucking and more something else, something he could barely remember the name to? You gripped his shoulder. There was a tattoo there, your name in faded ink. Your eyebrows softened. He didn’t seem to notice. “My girl,” he repeated, whispering against your skin.

“Trev,” you whined. He was already shimming down his pants. He kicked them off the bed onto the floor. You could feel his hardness against your clothed core. He fixed his fingers around the loops of your jeans, pulling it down with ease. You raised an eyebrow at his expertise but he was so caught up in the taste of you he didn’t notice.

“God!” You arched your back, looking up at him with wide eyes. He couldn’t wait any longer. Without warning he was inside you, all of him. You gasped at the sudden change and then eased. He gave you no time to calm down or adjust but he was leaning over you and his lips were permanently on your skin and it was like the room had gotten ten degrees hotter in the span of five minutes. You could probably fuck around all night. Trevor could go again and again but he needed to do this right now.

He placed a finger on your clit. You gasped, eyes locking with his. He grinned smugly. You kissed him to shut up whatever he was about to say.

Your breath hitched as he sped up, moving his fingers wildly and without care. Somehow he managed to hit just the right spot.

You came together, plagued by moans and spasms.

Still inside you he smiled, self satisfied.

“Never thought a dead guy would make you cum huh?” You snorted, eyes shut tightly.

“Fuck you Trevor.” You were laughing through your words.

“Haven’t gotten enough yet?”

He collapsed beside you. You found the bed more comfortable now in your bliss. You grabbed a pillow, placing it under your head.

“Get me a beer T. I can go all night.”

When Trevor woke up you were still in bed. He had a hand on your thigh, now clothed, much to his dismay. He had no idea what time it was. You had thrown on one of his clean shirts, one of the rare ones. You were hunched over your phone, sitting beside him. He rubbed his eyes. You turned your head, realizing he was awake.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” you said, a pleasant smile on your face. Your hair was a mess of the night. He could still feel it on the tips of his fingers. He could still taste you on his lips.

It hadn’t been a dream. You were here. You were with him. It wasn’t a wet dream, it was reality. Just the thought made him dizzy.

“Let’s get drunk and get hitched.” You laughed gently.

“Now that’s an idea.” He sat up and kissed you aggressively, throwing you off but not by much. Your phone fell from your fingers. You turned to him. His girl. His girl. His girl. You pulled away, much to his dismay. “I think I know where Michael is.”

He groaned.

“You had to remind me.” He fell back onto the bed with a flop.

“Los Santos. There’s a Michael De Santa with two kids and a wife. Amanda.” He perked his head up.

“You check the plastic surgery records?”

“I did not but I have a rough estimate.” You stood up. The bed was cold without you. Couldn’t you just live forever like this? Why go find Michael at all?

And then he remembered his anger.

“They’re living in a mansion, Trev,” you said. You hadn’t taken any money from that robbery. You couldn’t, it wouldn’t make any sense. But Michael was out there and he was using that money somehow. He had taken it all for himself.

Trevor’s anger intensified. He was here in the slums of San Andreas in a shitty trailer. He had put his life on the line. He had lost everything he cared about. Michael got the house and the family and the life they had all risked it for. He had lost you for nine years.

He tossed you the truck keys.

“Start it but don’t drive it,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“You think you’re a better driver than me T?” You both sat in the memories of you driving away with money, evading the cops, knowing nothing but the danger in your speed.

“I’m the only one that drives that truck.” You put your hands up in surrender, backing out.

“Yes sir.”

God he wanted you back in bed.

Part 2

#trevor philips x reader #trevor philips imagines #trevor philips x fem!reader #trevor philips fanfiction #grand theft auto imagines #spicy tag

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camp-queer-and-there · 4 months ago

Note

lucille my old hag can you hit that

THIS SHIT LACED😭 im forreal a freak just lmk👀👅 ohio skibidi toilet oi oi oi😏 maxdesignpro WHAT!? HELP ME! HELP = 👍 fetus sebastian hes so ugly i cant would you rather have 1 million dollars or CANCER! art is lowkey so amazingly beautiful...gigachad sigma LET HIMM COOK!🗣️🗣️ uwu >_< anyone got anyone spongebob x reader👀 only in eastern latvia💀 ohio final boss grimace shake charlie the steak ishowspeed kai cenat the amazing digital circus pomni garten of banban caseoh gyatt super mogger looksmaxxing based and redpilled diabolical lick😈erm what the sigma oh! thats not!- getting my top surgery done at claires POV: youre ben shapiros mom and hes convincing to let him get gta5 i feel like calling you a slur.. what type of gay are you, since you dont have it in your bio... the european mind cannot comprehend this drew phillips: hello im drew phillips the ahh magic i finna be in the pit on cap. 123°!? gurrrll we are not thanksgiving turkeys😂and thats on period fahrenheit lankybox elisocray INSANE UNBOXING! gegagedigedagedago we can go gyatt for gyatt fuck that we can go rizz for rizz 19 bucks for the fortnite card double pump with the fanum tax THE BIG APPLE! drake vs kendrick beef p diddy dr disrespect annoying orange if garlic was a person my name is drake and im here to say.. kendrick lamar your disses arent okay! diss me diss me now you gotta kiss me quandale dingle mf doom dookie baby girl my pookie wubbleshmubble kins whats hurts more than being yelled at be skinned alive probably pov: i am your cashier during february (and i notice you are black) you look like tyler the creator if he was in my dreams ray william johnson sybrian dancing lady oh when the saints go marching in oh when the saints go marching in todoroki gives birth alone jumbo josh is lost in the zumb sauce lightskin touch the moon bozo cant im walking my fish why are frogs so stupid show me your griddy show me your griddy.... show me your... DOHHH THATS ONE WAY TO HIT THE GRIDDY. THATS ONE WAY TO HIT THE GRIDDY grwm to go to bath and body works temu workers getting ready to clock in day in the life of a twitch streamer your final challenge.. let yo bih go through your phone!... AH HELL NAW YO ASS TWEAKIN JIGSAW quavo stop thats the gayest shit ever amoeba sisters angst preppycon 2024 kart ride into spongebob youve been here before.. a weirdcore dreamcore kidcore clowncore playlist. my talking tom her body tea is insane😭 my aura is unmatched DO NOT PLAY CREEPY BATH GAME AT 3AM!!!!!!!! *THIS IS WHY* ALMOST DROWNED school isnt done but i am💀 omg u did call me baby.. maybe ..omg did he call her baby.. maybe.. im not okay..... bark for me. pov family dinner😭💀why u so pissed ...what me when i get mustard for christmas yall when i put on my dad fit "FREAKYbob" I AINT ANSWERING!! HELPP IM DEADDDD wait no im not maya winky boyfriend takes you out to eat but his opps slide on him [boyfriend asmr] mrbeast might ne TOO BIG to he cancelled squid games i hope someone dies and goes to hell today me staring at the sephora employee in the eye as i "sample" a $800 perfume cats when you cover their cage with a blanket blud thinks hes the main character💀 omg a rare gyatt sighting ninja fortnite sneako the ocky way new yorkian vermontian how 10 yr old me felt after putting "i dont speak tags" in an argument holy fricking smokes dude.. my cut is insane... shout out to my barber dawg! bro thinks hes the thinker waterless baked water what i would wear to my isis execution why did my dog just punch me😓 #STOPBULLYING💯

i mean.. i kind of ocd😁 you mean OBESity stop doing the golden freddy pose youre scaring the kids when a client wants to trauma dump first session when i dont have enough diamonds on episode so now i gotta shit in the school hallway in front of my crush phone and youtube video lobster activity someone shot trump in the ear he wouldnt have missed goku drip well my mother always said the best flowers get picked first dudes been waiting for his mcflurry since 1786 ladies ladies one at a time please😍 rio de janeiro the oppblock hazbin hotel boy rejoice creepy autism simulator my scary silent hill whos ivan mac n cheeks freak island home sweet home.. blud always looking at sum😭😭😭when face id acting up so you gotta LOCK IN fuck im washed WAIT IM GOATED why the mob isnt a fucking aesthetic: a thread this where the magic happens👅 style griddy👀

what

- ⌛

#admin ezra #ooc: IMYELIFNSD PELASEE #chnt #lucille bertuccelli #camp here and there #staff answers!!!

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komotionlessqueenmm · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine # 653

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

*I fucking love Jimmy! 😅

#imagine #gif imagine #video game imagine #video game #gta 5 imagine #gta imagine #gta x reader #gta5 imagine #gta5 x reader #gta 5 #gta #jimmy de santa x reader #jimmy de santa imagine #jimmy de santa #gta 5 x reader

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gta5-simp-time · 2 years ago

Note

dating trevor headcanons? 💞 thanks in advance

welcome

DATING TREVOR PHILIPS

the most respectful man you will ever date

very protective of you and always makes sure your safe

becomes very cuddly out of no were for no reason

buy you whatever you want just to make you happy

loves seeing you wear his clothes (after washing them)

happily kills anyone who crosses no matter how small

can and will died for you no matter what (he almost did once)

loves late night drives around town and always says how your more beautiful than the stars

thats all for now

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta 5 #grand theft auto #gta5 #gta trevor #gta headcanons #gta x reader

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sadlyjustexisting · 4 years ago

Text

Trevor Philips x Gender Neutral!Reader

Buy me a coffee!<3

Warnings:Cursing

Request: here!

This is my first request!English is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes and feedback is always appreciated!

Trevor's POV

"Fucking piece of shit!"I hit the television,trying to make it work but it was useless

What the fuck i'm supposed to do now?

Ron took my truck and i don't wanna leave the house while it's raining.Maybe i can call (y/n) just to annoy them

I was about to dial their number when i heard a knock on my door,i went to grab the gun i keep in my bedroom just in case and went to open the door pointing the gun to the face of whoever was on the other side

"Dude what the fuck?" (y/n) was in my door,hugging themselves and their voice sounded tired and they looked like they were caught in the rain

"(Y/n)??What are you doing here?" I lowered my gun and moved out of their way so they could come in,they walked slowly and stood in the middle of my living room "Take off your clothes" They raised an eyebrow "Not like that,but if you're cold we can fix that" I smirked and winked.They started to take off their jacket and i pointed to the bathroom "There's a towel that i think it's clean,you can use that to dry yourself and i'll give you some clean clothes" They just nodded and went to the bathroom.I went to look for some clothes and found a t-shirt and some shorts.I knocked on the bathroom door

"Here's some clothes" they opened the door just a crack,i passed the clothes and a few seconds later the door opened wide.They there stood looking like they were about to fall asleep standing

"Thanks Trevor" They gave me a soft smile which i returned and they left to sit on the couch

"So" I went to the fridge to grab a beer "You never told me why are you here" I turned around to look at them but they were already sleep

Wow that was fast

I grabbed the only blanket i had and put it on top of them just in case they were cold.I kneeled and brushed some hair out of their face

They look so cute while sleeping

I smiled and gave them a kiss on the forehead

"Good night (y/n)" I was about to leave the room but i heard a soft voice saying

"Good night Trevor"

#trevor philips x reader #gta5 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #gta five

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sandy-shores · 5 years ago

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Does ANYONE remember this one fanfic? It was Trevor x reader fanfic where the reader was Michael’s daughter and she runs away with Trevor. It’s the ONLY think i can think about and I can’t find it

#send help #gta v #gta5 #trevor philips #michael desanta #trevor philips fanfic #trevor philips x reader

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josiah-trelawny · 6 years ago

Note

Michael de Santa getting tied up 😈

Michael de Santa Recieving Bondage

takes long swig of peach arizona iced tea guess which dumb fucker forgot to post because he was playing red dead

when you tie him up, he keeps shifting around, complaining about how it’s uncomfortable. but then when you start to do... things michael’s barely focused on that

all he can think about is how good you’re making him feel, how much he wants to touch you. and he doesn’t try to hide it; he’ll beg you to untie him the entire time

you do shibari (it’s fancy bondage if u don know) on michael, and that’s already enough to make him blush up to his ear tips. when you actually suck him off he’s so loud that you’re afraid the neighbors will hear you two

michael’s pretty much done for afterwards. he’s covered in sweat and letting out heavy pants, until you eventually say, “what’d you think?” “wasn’t it obvious?”

#gta v #gtav #gta5 #gta #michael de santa #michael townley #michael de santa x reader

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rreskk · 1 year ago

Text

TROUBLE CONCEIVING LUST

-A/N: I lowkey rushed cos my laptop is dying, so apologises if grammar sucks (and spelling!)

Summary: You met this guy through mutual friends and he had to be the most... Interesting... Sexy?... Unusual man, ever. Playing a "spin the bottle" game ended drastically. You couldn't help yourself, and neither could he.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 5777

NORTH YANKTON — 2002

“Who are these fine babes?”

You looked up from your empty glass of booze. A night out with some friends was almost at it’s end until one of your friends, Amanda, decided to bring along her “friend” who’s name was Michael. He mentioned 2 other guys coming, 2 faces you aren’t familiar with.

Smiling softly, you stared ahead at this middle-aged man who’s hair was blonde and slicked into a pony-tail. He was quite chubby but tall, a big lad. He was the guy who spoke first, his eyes drifting from girl to girl. There was a sense of excitement behind his gaze as Michael, the one you were briefly familiar with, spoke.

“This is Brad,” His hand signalled to the blonde guy you were just looking at before noticing a taller, much slimmer man behind them both, “And this is Trevor.”

You instantly made eye-contact with this stud. A shabby mullet, all wild and untamed. His hair was brown, a dark, chocolate brown (to be exact), and so was this stache. It was a fairly groomed moustache that really brings out his intense eyes. You couldn’t help but inspect this stranger with every detail you could find… That goes from his eyebrow scar to this gauntly, sickly grin he had. It was abnormal and different. You’ve never seen a man so rugged, scary but also striking.

You both held strong eye-contact before he was torn from your gaze and upon the rest of the group.

“How are you, Trevor?” Amanda asked with an informal tone; sounding rather disinterested, almost irritated at this guy called Trevor.

And the moment he revealed his voice, you had opened your mouth with fascination. The rawness and deep, taunting, grainy voice – it was glorious – you’d be able to sit and listen to him talk for years straight. However, a few words in, you’ve came to the conclusion that he was from the North; Canada. He had this Canadian tongue that was quite hard to miss.

“Splendid, Mandy. Don’t you have a nightshift, ay? It is a Friday.” He grinned at her, teasing.

“I took the day off.”

“Oh!” Mocked Trevor, “I thought money was an issue?”

Amanda glared at him. This guy was definitely a menace.

“Trevor leave her alone. Come introduce yourself, you too Brad. We’ve got – “ Michael had named every girl before approaching you, “ – and this is [y/n].”

“How’s it going, [y/n]?” You were surprised that he had asked you a question. His deadly eyes stared back at yours.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm… Nice evening?”

“It’s been nice, yes.” You nodded your head.

“Michael mentioned you before,” He looked at you up and down, “Pleasure to meet you, at last.” He held out his hand and you could proper visualise his rough, veiny skin.

You proceeded to shake his hand, the contact so electrifying that you couldn’t even dare yourself to look into his eyes. It felt forbidden to feel such strong emotions for a man you just met.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Trevor.”

Trevor gave you a wink as everyone began to chat amongst themselves. He had left the conversation with intensions of annoying his buddies who were trying to decide on a “friendly, fun game” to end the night. They all took chairs and sat around the already crowded table. This guy, Bradley, was already smoking up a joint as Trevor eagerly took a hit before pouring himself some whiskey that Amanda didn’t finish. He ignored her protests and just downed it in one, throwing the bottle aside as it rolled off onto the floor.

“Jesus, Trevor! That was mine!” She complained and looked at Michael for support, but he was too busy pouring a pint of beer.

“Chill, old girl. It was just a sip.”

“A fucking sip? You drank it all! That cost me a good few notes!”

“Woah, correct yourself, it costed Michael a good few stacks,” Trevor grinned at her, “Team effort, Mandy. Thank us.”

“Fuck you, Trevor.” You watched as Amanda refused to look in his direction.

“Maybe a few more shifts at the strip joint and you can afford the cheapest here.” He continued to torment her.

Mikey had distracted him before he could bully her too much and they all had an open discussion at the table. You ear-dropped their conversation and heard all sorts of ideas that consists of sexual imagery – most coming from Michael’s buddies – not Mikey himself.

“What’s wrong with sexy truth or dare?” Bradley seemed disappointed when his idea was turned down.

“Dude, it ain’t right. Why not a simple drinking game?”

“God… Amanda, what have you done to M? He’s a boring old prick now.”

“Shut up, Trevor. I’ve saved him from your psychotic ass!” And her backtalks were incredibly entertaining. It left you smiling giddily before Trevor caught your amusement, and he frowned. He didn’t like how you found joy in him being humiliated.

So you dropped your head and pretended to adjust your black dress, hoping to avoid any confrontation from this… Man. Somehow it made your stomach coil, not in a good way. These guys didn’t look as promising as Amanda painted them.

“I vote spin the bottle!” Brad announced.

“And what? Shots?”

“You know damn well, Mikey. How about kisses, blowjobs, handjobs?”

“Shut up, T.”

“Trevor’s right, dude.”

Michael groaned, “Shut up, Brad – Fuckin’ fine… Kisses then, but nothing else… Don’t be creepy, yeah?”

Your friends, including Amanda, seemed content with this game of spine the bottle, but you? Mixed feelings. You only just met these 2 guys and they are already demanding the group to participate in some high-school, drunk college game. You just knew that they had a rough idea to bring someone home, especially that one guy, Trevor.

Speaking of Trevor, he caught your sights again and smirked. You’ve noticed that he’s barely given any of the other girls attention. He didn’t even say hi or smiled at them – yet he seemed extremely curious about you. It felt dangerous.

“So we’ve got three chicks and three studs, yeah? Where’s a bottle we can use?” Brad inquired.

“Jesus, are you blind? Look around you, B. The table is filled with bottles.”

He responded to Trevor, “Shit man, they still have booze in them.” Both of them began looking around the table until they noticed your almost empty bottle. Bradley tilted his head and gave you a sickening grin.

“Are you gonna finish that, darl?”

You noticed Trevor wince at the pet name. He sent a glare to his friend and clenched his jaw.

“I – “ Feeling pressured, you just pushed the drink towards them, “No. You can, uh, have the rest.”

“Mmm… Thanks, babe.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bradley.” Your man of interest muttered before pouring the remainder of alcohol into a random glass.

Michael had rubbed his hands together in addition to the game beginning. He was sat beside Amanda, obviously making it known that they are two peas in a pod. It seems as they didn’t mind playing as an “unconfirmed” relationship, but you knew they wouldn’t take it as far as one kiss.

“Who’s going first?” Your other female friend asked.

It was getting late so the bar was slowly decreasing in population. Soon enough, you were the only table left behind. The jukebox was playing some late 80s rock and roll, a big throwback to the past. You listened to it through the background noise of Brad’s booming voice.

“I’ll go!”

He leaned forward and spun the bottle. Everyone watched with anticipation. You heart began beating. It was slowing and you gulped, thinking it was gonna land in you. Not wanting to kiss this man, you prayed to God. You sat tight and held your breath before it landed on Trevor.

The table began to laugh as Brad scowled with embarrassment.

“You fucking kidding me, bro?” He mumbled.

“Go on then!” Michael laughed, his arm around Mandy’s shoulder.

Trevor, unlike his friend, was smirking. He turned to face Bradley and gave him a mocking kissy face, waiting.

“T, stop it man. This is weird as fuck!”

“The longer you wait bro, the longer I’m gonna smooch the life outta ya.” He teased his buddy.

This only made everyone laugh louder. You chuckled here and there until it all died down and Brad was left with no choice. He squeezed his eyes closed and speedily pecked Trevor’s lips. You saw it barely touched.

“Come on, man. You’re such a pussy.” T would roll his eyes.

“Shut up. Just… Carry on, goddammit!”

You were sat next to Brad, so it was your turn. Everyone looked over and gave you words of encouragement. You found the confidence to lean over the table and spin the bottle. You studied how fast it spun. Your heart was beating rapidly, you could feel your pulse breaking. It was nerve-wracking. The bottle was slowing down and it stopped. You followed it’s gaze and realised it pointed to your friend. She giggled.

Luckily it wasn’t… him.

“Ohhh…” He was the first to speak, “Mmm, I see how it is. Come on, ladies. Bring it on…”

You both ignored Trevor. Your friend adjusted her chair so she was facing you and held in a laugh. You did too. At least it was nothing awkward, more humorous. You decided to beat the clock and gave her a small kiss on the lips. She erupted in giggles, holding onto the table for support. The tension finally eased after your first go. It made you think this game wasn’t so bad.

“That was hot.” Murmured that raspy voice.

“Trevor, shut up. No creepy shit.”

“Whatever, Mikey. It’s your turn.”

Michael grumbled something you couldn’t hear and spun the bottle. He sipped his beer and waited for it to stop, and when it did, it was pointing at Bradley. The table was in hysterics.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” The blonde man was in disbelief, “I have to kiss another dude?”

“Just my luck, hm?” Mikey said to Amanda before she urged him to do it, for the games sake.

Trevor clapped his hands, oddly excited to see his two friends kiss in front of him. You’ve been observing him and the way his eyes lit up, them pupils dilating when the game proceeds. He was definitely aroused. You could tell.

“C’mon you guys!”

“Trevor, bro, just shut up!” Brad whined. He shook his head and leaned across the table, closer to Mikey who was also hesitant. They cringed before kissing for a split second and moving away from each other straight after.

You covered your mouth and chuckled.

“You are both fuckin’ pussies!” Trevor cried with distaste, “That weren’t even a fuckin’ kiss!”

Amanda rushed to her boyfriends rescue, “It’s your turn! Go!”

“Oh? You want some, Amand?” He grinned at her.

“Don’t be disgusting, Trevor.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine, my turn.”

And then your heart only grew more unbearably nerved. His red, bruised hands spun that green bottle. He was right opposite you as well so you saw that concentrated stare in his rugged face. The way he leaned down to spin, some hair strands fell in his face, giving him a really pirated look…

He bit his lip and impatiently waited until it stopped.

You felt your whole body grow paraylsed. That neck, that tip of the damn bottle was facing you. It was just your luck, your VERY luck.

“Oh?” That cat-like smirk grew more perverted, “Look who it is, [y/n]…”

Looking into Trevor’s eyes felt like a Deathwish on it’s own. He was eye-fucking you so hard, it made you shiver. Them cold, dark, brown eyes. They were unmatched, so scary, so intimidating.

“I guess it is.” You slowly spelled out.

“How come Trevor gets the hot chic – “ Bradley’s face was suddenly muffled by Trevor’s hardened hands. He didn’t even look away from you though. He kept his sights fixated on you.

“You’re a lucky girl, [y/n].”

“If you say so.”

“I say so.” He murmured and stood up. His lean figure hovered over the table; his efforts to be closer. This was pressuring enough to make you meet him half-way, but when you tried, he was already pining you against your seat.

The group all watched as Trevor practically climbed over the table just to meet with you. Desperation depicted his sly grin. Them cruel fingers had wrapped themselves around your wrists, trapping you.

“You ready?” His voice purred in your ear.

“Oh my God, stop being a freak!” Amanda was disgusted. She exchanged glances with Michael who was equally as disturbed.

Trevor raised an eyebrow and gave her a side eye, “You wished Michael was this intense and romantic, Mandy. Don’t even start.”

“Excuse me? – “

“You heard me. Now shut up while I give [y/n] a kiss, yeah? That’s a great idea, ain’t it?”

Everyone was dead silent before he returned his attention to you and sighed in your neck.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Anyways, let’s continue the game, ay?” He licked his lips and stared down at yours.

His breath stunk of alcohol, weed, cigarettes, and… Weird metal? You didn’t even want to know. He was bizarre, completely out of your league! You’ve never seen a guy so unpredictable and manic. However, a part of you found it admirable. Inhaling deeply, you gave him what he wanted and kissed his lips.

For you, it lasted hours. Trevor kissed back with passion, his tongue wasting no time and forcing itself into your mouth. You thought to yourself for a brief second; it was only supposed to be a kiss? Why are you letting him passionately make out with you? Why are you enjoying it? At this point, he was properly pushing his weight onto your chair, his shoulders hiding you from everyone’s sights as his face was smashed against yours. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around them masculine shoulders and keep him close, your hands mindlessly tugging at his mullet until someone had separated you both from any further “activities.”

“Fucking Hell, T!” Michael pulled Trevor away from you, both your lips swollen and red.

“What?” He asked breathlessly, “We were just kissing?”

“Kissing? You were eating each other’s faces!”

“You wish you were me, Bradley.”

“Okay, okay, uhh! Can we just… Carry on with the game? From what I last remembered, it’s my turn.” Amanda tried her best to convert the awkward situation. She waited as Trevor walked back to his seat, a look of disappointment on his face after being separated from you.

She placed her cup down and spun the bottle. Michael was watched intently, clearly growing a bit nervous in case she had to kiss either Trev or Brad. He hoped it would be him.

“C’mon, c’mon…” He’d unconsciously hum out loud.

The bottle stopped and you bit into your tongue. It landed on you again.

Amanda chuckled softly and shrugged, “I’m thankful it’s you, [y/n], and not them two chumps.”

“Woah, watch your tongue!” Brad winked. She returned the wink. You had sensed some sort of tension between the two, and so did Michael. He looked at them both, his face growing angered.

You decided to step in and avoid any conflicts.

“Okay, I guess we have to kiss, Mandy.”

She glanced away from Bradley and nodded. You felt Trevor’s eager eyes as you two both kissed and giggled afterwards. Amanda kissed your cheek in a friendly manner before returning to the game.

You had made eye-contact with him again and he smirked. His lips were still swollen but this time, there was a predatory danger behind his pupils. He pointed to your black dress and made a sexual had gesture of a penis and pussy. Your cheeks grew red. The childish flirting actually made you flustered? What has this man done to you…

“Okay, I guess it’s my turn again.” Brad mused.

“Woah, woah – “ You interrupted, “You missed Michael. It’s his turn.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Go ahead, Brad. I don’t care.”

“Too scared to kiss me, Mikey?” Trevor pouted playfully.

“If I kissed you, I’d catch STDs.”

“Mmm… Not from what I rememb – “

“Okay, Brad go.” Michael quickly disengaged his friend from confessing something that had quickly caught your undying attention. Not from what I remember? You smelt something fishy between them two, but decided not to ask any further questions considering the game was still playing.

Bradley spun the bottle and bounced up and down in his seat. He looked hopeful this time. He was had his fingers crossed.

“Strain anymore and you’re gonna shit yourself.” Your other friend joked, earning a small laugh from Michael.

“Don’t ruin my strive, girl.” He whispered and went wide-eyed when it stopped. The person it face was revealed to be Amanda, and Michael’s amusements fell into despair.

“What?”

“It’s just a kiss, Mikey.” Brad mentioned. It wasn’t helpful at how casual he felt about kissing his friends darling.

“No, not Mandy.” He refused.

“Let her have some fun – “

“Wait… You have the hots for her?” Michael was beginning to get more enraged, “Dude, that’s my fucking girlfriend! Amanda? What the fuck is this? Trevor, bro?” He looked at Trevor with pled.

“What? I don’t know what’s fuckin’ going on.” He huskily uttered from the opposite side of the table.

“Mikey, it’s nothin’! It’s just a kiss!”

“Bradley, I swear to fuck! – “

“Michael!” Amanda held onto his shirt, “Just sit down, please! You are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? Amand, he’s a fucking chump!”

You played around with the green bottle as the game was probably ruined now. Nonetheless, you looked at the clock and decided to leave sooner than later. Whispering to the other friend, you told her about leaving soon and she agreed. The three of them were still fighting; the tension growing, so you stood up and began to collect your things.

Trevor was daydreaming until he’s noticed you stand. He tilted his head and gave you a small frown.

“Where you going, [y/n]?”

You gave him a small smile, “I’m gonna go soon and catch a taxi home.”

“Nah, nah…” He immediately stood as well and rushed over, “Don’t leave me. Can I catch the taxi with you? I ain’t driving back with these pricks.”

“Where abouts do you live?”

“Uhh… I’m renting this motel room with the boys.”

You were holding your leather jacket before he grabbed it and placed it back onto your seat. He sounded more needy now.

“Don’t leave right now. We can sit in one of those booths at the back and get some drinks on, ay?”

“I’d love to, Trevor, but – “

“C’mon… Don’t leave, not after what happened,” He gave you a knowing smirk, “I don’t like pretty girls playing with my heart. I wanna… Get to know you more.”

And you knew exactly what he meant. From the way he was staring down at your dress, it was super clear what he was referring to. You were fluttered. You shouldn’t be though, from what you saw earlier, he was a nutjob.

But he was dashingly irresistible. You studied his facial features again and reintroduced yourself with his scars and classic 70s porno stache. Then you remembered the feeling of his mullet between your fingers. He had oddly soft hair despite the balding and split-ends. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was handsome.

“You like what you see?” He caught interest in your staring.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t apologise. I like it when you look at me.” Trevor whispered and stepped closer. He sneakily outstretched an arm to fit around your waist. He ogled your figure again before tugging you closer so your chests were touching. He had to look down (due to height difference), and he smirked.

“You’re a sexy piece of work. If them cunts didn’t stop me, your dress would’ve been ripped off by now.”

God damn, is what you thought. He was extremely bold and confident. It was too attractive.

“You like that idea?” He purred against your forehead.

Suddenly, the background noise of arguing had disappeared. You were too focussed on Trevor that your whole world, right there, revolved around him.

“Mhm…” You nodded.

“Atta girl. You know, from what I can see, you’d be the hottest on top of me.”

“On top?”

“Yeah, babe. Don’t think I can’t see that fire burning from beneath your eyes. You got that power, I felt it before, I wanna feel it again.”

“Oh God…” You exhaled, your stomach burning up with arousal.

“I’m gonna be honest, [y/n], I won’t make it back at my motel…” Trevor admitted with a grin. His free hand moved to his growing bulge, groping himself.

“Can’t you now?”

“Yeah, ma’am, I can’t.” He growled in your ear.

“Oh, you’re calling me ma’am now?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

You chuckled softly, “Nothing…”

“It sounded like you were complaining.” His grip around your waist tightened as he began moving you both towards the booths.

“I weren’t complaining.”

“Good,” Trevor lets go before jumping onto the leather seats and lying down, “C’mere…” He made grabby hands, his boner visible for you to see.

You hesitantly crawled onto his lap until he grabbed your hips, helping you get comfortable. You sat inches away from his boner and smiled down at him. He seemed to be enjoying your weight.

“Are they still fighting each other?” He’d lowly ask.

To answer his question, you peeked out of the booth and saw them still at each other’s throats.

“Yes, they are.”

“Goodio…” Trevor grabbed the straps of your dress and dragged it down your arms, your chest being exposed willingly. He’d giggle like a child when you were seen without a bra. Your tits were inches away from his face and he began licking the nipples.

You held in a whimper, “Are you sure they won’t see us?”

He didn’t respond. He ripped your dress off fully and yanked you so you were practically lying on him. Your breasts, already caked in his saliva, was suffocating his face as he licked and nibbled every ounce of your skin. The warmth of his tongue made you chew your inner mouth to restrain a moan.

“I knew you had a smashing body under that dress, I could sense it.” Trevor finally murmured, moving his way up your chest to your neck. He smothered your neck with hickeys and bite marks.

“Oh God…”

“You sound perfect, ma’am,” He pressed a kiss against your jaw before unzipping his flies, “I want you. I need you, so bad.”

You straightened your back and sat on his crotch as he freed himself from those jeans he wore. The moment you saw his cock, you traced your fingertip over his tip. Length never mattered to you, so it really didn’t surprise you when he wasn’t big. Trevor didn’t seem to care either – it was attractive.

“Say yes to me.” He pled, staring through his eyebrows.

“What happens if I say yes?” You decided to tease.

His dick twitched at your taunts.

“I want you to ride me, [y/n]. Ride me – “

“Manners?”

He groaned, “Whaaaaaat?”

“Did your mother not teach your manners?”

Sensitive topic, it made him wince and pout. Trevor stayed silent. You noticed how he refused to look at you in the eye. All his confidence dropped when you mentioned his mother. He just continued eye-fucking you and caressing your breasts.

“Trevor?” You broke the silence.

“[y/n],” The way he slurred your name, “Fucking ride me. I ain’t gonna ask twice.”

“But you already asked me twice…”

“You’re starting to piss me off, sugar. Don’t fuck with me.”

“You’re asking me to fuck you.” You pointed out. While in heat, you warmed up his erected cock with your hands. Whether you were prepared, Trevor arched his back and groaned heavily. You didn’t realise how sensitive he was, especially from a handjob.

“Oh, yes… Yes, I like that,” He panted, “Keep going, keep going!”

You grinned and used this for your advantage. He was vulnerable. You pretended to stroke his cock before raising your palm and slapping the tip.

His back arched in pain, “FUCK!” Trevor roared.

You did it again; seeing the same reaction.

“Fuck, oh yeah! OH, SHIT!” He was a hot mess. Every time you slapped his length, he’d only squirm and moan like no one else was in the room. Wrong. People were in the room, but you weren’t bothered anymore. Maybe this crazed guy was more fun than you thought. If only you knew how whiney he was before the game, you wouldn’t be too nervous around him then.

“Take your top off.” You ordered softly.

“Ah… Ah, uh?” Trevor glanced up, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, “My top?”

“Yes.”

He breathed in and out heavily. You had to help him take off his leather jacket and shirt as he was left shirtless, for your taste. He had a hairy chest, quite skinny but oddly muscular. However, the beers he had that day made his stomach bloated so you were greeted with a small, hairy pouch. You trailed your finger across it, using your nail, making him whine and whimper.

“Ohhhh, you’re fuckin’ with me…”

“You wanted me to.”

Trevor glared lustfully at you, “Jesus… You’re too fuckin’ hot, [y/n].”

“Just lie back. You wanted me to ride you, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes! I want, I want! I want! Gimme! – “

“Shush.” You pressed a finger against his wet lips.

Trevor raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet. Authority wasn’t his cup of tea, yet he seemed content to follow your commands. He scratched his stache before lying down and holding onto your hips, ready.

“I hope they see this though…” He’d cheekily oppose as you sat down onto his naked lap, his boner painfully fucking your clit.

You nibbled your bottom lip and closed your eyes. You grabbed his penis and used it to cause friction against your clit until you were both squirming against each other.

“Nah, stop… Stop fuckin’ edging me!”

“Easy… Easy…” You’d attempt to calm him. Trevor was growing breathless already. He was arching his back, grabbing the table, jerking his hips up; he was doing everything he could to resist your playfulness.

“Oh, fuck… Nah, do it, please. I won’t be able to last, [y/n].”

You took his words for granted and sat down, your crotches interacting. Once he was fully fucking your insides, volume didn’t seem like a boundary. You’d moan his name and begin to bounce.

“Oh! Yes, God, you’re so fuckin’ wet!” Trevor heaved and migrated his hands from your waist to your jiggling breasts. He squeezed them like a squish toy, making ungodly sounds, varying from grunts to outrageous gags.

“Trevor, ah!” You held onto his wrists and bounced faster.

“Ma’am, ma! – “

“Shit, fuck… Mhm…” His cock would bury itself deeper after he allowed you to dig into him. You couldn’t believe you were having sex with him, you just met him a few hours ago? Comparing his appearance from the second you met him, his mullet was draped in sweat, his dark eyes were dazed and unconscious, his stache was ruffled from the intense kissing. To cut it short, he was ruined.

And it was your fault.

“Yeah, yeah! Oh yeah!” Trevor whined, “C’mon! Give it to me! Your cunt is so fuckin’ sexy, oh yeah!”

You swore the room gotten more quiet as Trevor’s moans echoed. Nonetheless, you ignored it while riding him because the sensation was heavy. It felt like you needed to cum already. Your stomach was dominated with butterflies and Trevor’s cock was furiously twitching and pulsing.

You’d peer down at him with a honest, pleasured smile. Your tongue sat on your bottom lip until it was confirmed that you were climaxing.

“Oh fuck…”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum in your pussy!” Trevor – as per usual – was expressive. He kept you riding him as you both choked out some groans, your orgasm meeting with his. His dick loaded an impressive ton of cum inside your cunt, the spillage making you whimper his name.

“Shit, shit…” You breathed.

“More, more!”

“Oh God, okay.”

He sat up and stared at you with a perverted smirk.

“What?” You’d frown.

“Sit on my face.”

“Huh?”

Trevor used his strength and lifted you up from his lap and crawled under. You gasped when he was directly under your cum-soaked pussy. You felt his eyes stab Hell into it.

“Fuckin’ sit on me, [y/n]…” He growled, hands clasping your thighs.

The booth seats were rattling when you lowered yourself onto him. Trevor was still lying on the leather seats, forcing you to hover over his face. Of course, you used the table beside you for stability and in front of you was the whole bar. It was empty, calming your thoughts after the anxiety that more people would come by for a few beers.

“Gimme a piece of your fuckin’ cunt, ma’am.” Was the last thing Trevor muffled before stuffing his mouth into your abused pussy. His tongue, so unreally long, licked up the traces of his own semen after he had filled you up.

You squirmed and gripped onto the table. Your tits were hanging, his handprints marking red bruises all over your chest and neck (not forgetting the amount of hickeys).

“Oh, fuck…” You gulped and looked over your shoulder as you heard rubbing noises. Trevor was jacking himself off when face-fucking you. He was brutal. You watched him interrogate his poor cock like it was replaceable.

“Argh!” He muffled a cry in your cunt.

“Trevor, oh my! – “

You turned around again and went wide eyed when you noticed the group.

They were still there.

“Trevor, they are here – FUCK!” He dismissed your concerns by tongue-fucking you to death. You pathetically moaned, accidentally making eye-contact with Michael who was disturbed beyond belief.

They all grabbed their things and headed towards the exit. You watched in guilt, but at the same time, you were too aroused to care. You began to grind against Trevor’s mouth. His moustache had left rashes upon your thighs and flaps. It was burning hot, it was making you overstimulated – beautifully overstimulated. You wanted more to feel, more to cum to.

“Oh, yeah! Trevor!”

Bradley was the last to leave. Unlike the others, he smirked and gave you a wink. It was an uncomfortable gesture. He was as weird as Trevor, in that creepy way, and you knew when you finish and part ways, he’s going to get questioned about… Your “activities” that they had accidentally walked in to.

“Fuck! Oh yeah!”

You constantly looked over your shoulder to see him orgasming many times. There was a puddle of semen on his stomach. His sensitivity had made him cum when you sat on his face. He had cum when jacking off. He had cum to the thought and feeling of you. It was hard to hear him orgasm considering he was being strangled by your pussy, but in a way, you’d feel his tongue shake with anticipation.

“I- I’m gonna…” You pushed harder against him, “I’m gonna cum!”

Trevor was crawling under your skin, his tongue was torture to your poor cunt. He wasn’t gentle at all. He was beating you to a pimp until you came.

And it was a drastic, messy, unstainable orgasm.

“FUUUUCKK!” You sobbed and trembled.

He licked up the cum that drained into his mouth. He slurped, you heard this, and he slurped again, and again, and again.

“Oh… Oh, my God…”

Trevor’s tongue departed from your sex before pressing hot kisses in your inner thighs, freeing himself from between your legs. He gasped for the fresh air and stared up at you. There were drooled, white liquids oozing from his lips and chin. He grabbed your jaw and pulled your head down, kissing your lips. You tasted your own cum and moaned. Trevor passionately made love to your lips until he pulled away and ruffled up his mullet.

“You tasted like heaven on a golden platter, ma’am…” He giggled dazedly.

You followed the way he tangled up his hair and reached over, stroking it. You draped your fingers across his scalp.

“Mm…” Trevor murmured and closed his eyes, “That’s nice…”

“I like your hair.”

“Oh yeah? I like your tits.”

“Ahh…” You chuckled and felt him knead them with his bare palms again.

“And your pretty little face…”

“That was intense.”

He giggled, “Oh, you’ve seen nothin’ ye – “

“Trevor!” A loud voice interrupting your conversation. Brad was at the bar exit, his face bored, “Bro! C’mon! You finished your little fuck-fest. The fucking taxi is here, hurry up already!”

Trevor glared at Bradley as he crawled out of the booth, putting his cock away and throwing on his shirt again.

“Fuckin’ Bastard…” He whispered to no one in general before helping you zip up your dress and made you look… At least punctual when seeing the rest (who’s shamefully experienced your momentary sex).

“We were long.” You smiled.

“Yeah, but I wanted more time.”

“We will soon.”

Trevor winked and nudged you, “You bet your ass…”

You made your way out of the bar and was greeted with the uncomfortable atmosphere. Mikey was sending stares of Satan at Trevor while Amanda was biting her lips, trying to ignore what she saw.

“I’m here. Now what?” Trevor muttered grumpily.

“Excuse me, ma’am…” You went wide eyed when Brad used the term “ma’am”, almost tormenting you both, “Would you like a ride home with us?”

“Bradley, I swear to fuckin’ God, I’ll kill you.”

“I can’t believe you said ma’am during sex, bro!”

Trevor went to punch him until Michael held him back. He effortlessly held onto the collar of his jacket before the taxi finally arrived, and by then, you decided walking was safer than… A carpool with these heathens.

“You aren’t joining us?” Amanda asked, sitting in the front.

You shook your head.

“No, rephrase that… You ain’t coming?”

“Brad!” T shoved his friend into the car before crawling inside after him.

“Go say goodbye to your madam!

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You heard him scream, then he rolled down the windows and winked, “My motel room is down the main-road West… Show up any time, sugar.”

“Trevor, get your own room! We share that room!” Michael protested.

“Pussy…”

“[y/n], is Trevor’s dick small?” Brad tried to shout over the noise of the engine.

“FUCK OFF, CUNT!” Trevor battered him again.

“Jesus Christ… Get home safe, [y/n].” Mikey muttered before their taxi drove off, leaving you embarrassed, excited…

And fucking sore.

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