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darling-i-read-it · 10 months

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Reunion Part 2

Part 1

Trevor Philips x fem!reader, Michael Townley x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,4k

Warnings: general gta things, murder, the mission where tracey is auditioning for fame or shame, violence, heavy allusions to smut

Author’s Note: Trevor Philips <3 Trevor <3 T <3 (also I don’t plan on continuing this idea but would love requests for this game if anyone has any :))

Tagging: (hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you! You showed interest in a second part and I finally was able to finish what I had <3): @pngxxx, @ugh-why-ugh, @raspberriesbbylol

Summary: The reader and Trevor go to confront Michael.

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

(not my gif)

When he pulled up to Michael’s house it was with a slight amount of tension. You were more nervous than him. You had decided the two of you would crash at his friends place while you were away from Sandy Shores, though he made you swear you would go back to the trailer. You weren’t sure why he had fallen in love with the place but you were willing to oblige. You just wanted him to shower first.

“So this is where Michael Townely is living out his days,” Trevor grumbled. He shut the car door aggressively. You crossed your arms. There was a car in the driveway. You wondered if it was his or Amanda’s. Maybe the kids. They would be so old by now. The last time you had seen them they were just little ones, running around, finding personalities.

“Michael Townely leaves the door unlocked,” you noted as you pushed the front door open.

“Fuckin rookie.”

Trevor pushed past you. You could hear the buzz of a conversation happening in the other room. You followed him as he followed the noise.

“Stop it you two! You’re ruining my fucking yoga!” You recognized the voice of Amanda. The shrill was hard to forget.

“Somebody say yoga?” Trevor stepped forward. You remained back a bit, watching to see how they would react to him. Plus, you knew Trevor wanted his moment. There was a long stunned silence.

“Trevor?” Michael asked. Even hearing his voice made you angry. You didn’t know how Trevor was holding it together.

“Michael…” “Hey..it’s good to see you man.”

“Hmm yeah I bet it is. ‘Course, I’m not the one that’s been resurrected.” You stepped into the room, causing another gentle stunned silence.

“Nice house you got here Mikey.”

Michael had gone to your house. He had waited there and you never came. He figured you had skipped town at the very noise of something happening with the job but he should’ve known better. He should’ve known you would go to Trevor first. You would always go to Trevor first.

Michael put his son behind him subtly. You tilted your head at the silent insult. You had held that kid the day he was born.

“I got in a bit of an awkward situation.”

“Hmm you’re telling me bro. One of those…fake your own deaths to your best buddy and then run off with the dough..live in a big mansion. Awkward. Situation.” Trevor approached him. Michael eyed you. If he had the capacity he would be stunned by the look of you. He had missed you so much. A part of him had even missed Trevor. Maybe he just missed the then.

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“Yeah? Do you have any other ways of looking at it?” you asked. You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall beside a man who had an unnaturally large bun in his hair. You recognized the others in the room but not him. Maybe he was Amanda’s boytoy. You almost snorted.

“It’s been a long time. I’ve been in witness protection, I still am.”

“Save the excuses Michael,” you argued. You pushed yourself off the wall.

“Where are our manners!?” Trevor exclaimed. “We come waltzing in and don’t even say hi to old friends. Amanda, it is good to see you. I missed you. You used to be fatter. Nice new tits by the way,” he said, approaching her. She backed away as he walked forward. You eyed her evenly. He pointed at Jimmy. “Jimmy, you used to be thinner. But ah, can’t blame you.” He gestured to Jimmy’s parents.

You stared, reminded of a life you could have had and never got.

Trevor stopped at the man with the man bun.

“Who are you?”

“Namaste. I’m Fabien.” You snorted. Trevor turned to you.

“You all remember Y/N! Except you Fabien.” You waved. “You know, she thought I was dead. I thought she was dead. I wonder who would’ve pushed that idea!” Trevor was standing in front of Michael again. You walked forward.

“You look good Michael,” you mused. “Amanda, are you fucking Fabien? I’ve gotta know, I’m sorry.” Amanda gasped and tried to stammer out half thought up answer. Trevor interrupted her.

“Where’s Tracey?”

“Jim, where’s your sister?” Michael questioned.

“Uh..um…uh she’s..she’s trying out for TV.” Everyone turned to look at him. The tension dissipated.

“She’s what?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, she’s auditioning for Fame or Shame.”

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know, it’s that talent slash skill show. She loves it, you guys know that.” “What’s her talent?” “Dancing.”

“Oh Christ, she’s a horrible dancer.”

“She might disagree with you on that.”

“Jesus Christ, now. Now? Where?”

“Um..the Maze Bank Arena.”

Trevor jumped into the father son conversation.

“Our little Tracey being humiliated, let’s go. We go get her.”

“We?” Michael asked.

“We,” you agreed. “You gonna stand there and argue while your daughter becomes a national laughing stock? You’re worse than I thought.” Michael held your eye contact.

“Fine.”

You grabbed Tracey, who was ecstatic to see you and Trevor until she wasn’t. Then you followed some dick head through Los Santos. Trevor punched him, stripped him, then recorded him doing some shitty dance. All regular Trevor things.

“You comin’ babe?” Trevor asked, hoping into the front end of a semi.

“I’ll meet you back at the apartment,” you promised. “I’ll have this asshole drive me.” You gestured to Michael.

“Don’t put any bullets in his head without me.”

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t be long!”

Trevor took a hard turn but before he left completely he leaned out the window.

“Hey Michael!”

“Yeah Trevor?”

He leaned forward, a small smug smile on his face.

“She fucked me. She fucked me.” Nine years of that lingering question and there it was. There was the truth that Michael had been hanging off of. The way Trevor said it, he knew it was true. The eye roll on your face was too obvious. “See ya soon.”

He drove away. You were left in his dust, in the Trevorless hole. You looked at Michael.

“That true?” he asked, like he didn’t know the answer.

“Nine years. All our money. Death certificate.” He nodded slowly.

“So you found the easiest psycho on the block?” Your jaw hardened.

“I found my best friend.” Michael knew he was being hard on you. He shouldn’t be. You weren’t insane like Trevor. You were insane with Trevor. He might’ve been able to build a relationship with you if he had told you he was alive sooner.

You were offended. Michael was acting like he hadn’t just waltzed back into your life after being resurrected. He had no right to judge you and Trevor.

“I thought you were dead,” you told him. He nodded once, gesturing to the car. You got in the passenger seat. There was something to be said about you trusting him enough to drive you around. He could cap you and leave you, you knew that. He was capable of it. But he wasn’t going to, not now that he finally got you back.

“I couldn’t exactly tell you I was, after it all went down.” He started the car.

“Where are we going?”

“I ain’t taking you back to Trevor if that’s what you’re asking.” You rolled your eyes. He avoided your question. “I knew you were out there, I figured Trevor was. I knew Lester was. It was better for everyone if I stayed dead.”

“Brad went to jail.” Michael gave you a side eye. You squinted at him, confused. Finally your eyes opened wide in realization. “They killed Brad.”

“Brad died,” he said, like it was any better.

“Who is in that jail cell?”

“No one.” Your mouth dropped a bit in amazement. All this time, the grave you had been mourning at was not Michael’s but Brad’s. You felt a pang of guilt. He deserved your grief all this time. You looked straight ahead. He was driving through the heart of Los Santos.

“Damn,” you muttered. “Still can’t believe you’re alive Mikey.”

“Me too girl. Me too.” He took a sharp turn. “Thank you for helping me with Tracey. Not that I needed it.”

“You had it handled, I know.” You rolled your eyes. You glanced over at him. Your Michael Townley, alive again. You shook your head. “Amanda seems happy.”

He scoffed.

“You met Fabian. She’s clearly happy.” You snorted.

“I never liked her and then Jimmy came along and…”

“Yeah well I wanted a family,” he admitted. “Fat lot of good it’s done me now. Both my kids hate me and my wife cheats on me. I’m back in the world of crime with my formally dead best friends.” “We were not the dead ones.”

Michael thought of Lester’s words.

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

He shook off the haunting thoughts. He didn’t let himself feel how much he had loved you.

“I went to your apartment,” he said.

“Stalker.”

“Yesterday,” he corrected. “I waited for you. I had Lester tell me where you lived and I waited,” he explained. “You never came.”

“Yeah I think Trevor cleared that one up for you,” you muttered. “I was in a shitty trailer bed in Sandy Shores.”

“You were always welcome in my bed in Rockford Hills.” You rolled your eyes.

“Townley, you’re a married man!” He glanced over at you. You met his gaze. The joke hung in the air and slowly became more serious. You pursed your lips and a sense of melancholy went over his eyes. “What a life it would’ve been though huh?”

“It doesn’t have to be-”

“Yeah Mikey. It does.” Your voice was serious. The one you used during business. He pulled into the parking lot of the boardwalk. He wasn’t sure what made him come here. He just didn’t wanna go home yet. Kids passed in front of the car, going towards the rides. The car stayed running. “You died on me.”

“I’m not dead now.”

The look you gave him was not a forgiving one. You reached across the center console, grabbing his hand. You smiled sadly at him.

“I gotta go.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do.”

For a moment he thought you were gonna kiss him. Your lips were so alluring and so close. The same lips he had fantasized about when he was still a kid technically, early twenties, filled with hormones. Your look was too fucking sad. He had gotten you back, your lips were right there. What had he always sworn he was going to do if he saw you again? Damn Amanda, damn Trevor?

He kissed you. It was feverish. Fast, passionate, filled with years of tension. You kissed him back for a moment. There was a moment in that kiss, maybe longer than a moment, where it was all okay. It was the kiss he had always wanted and it felt as good as he had always thought it would.

You pulled away and got out of the car. You didn’t speak, you didn’t break that moment for him. He was still leaning across the console when you left the car and he lingered there for a moment too long. You took out your phone, walked towards the amusement rides, and called a cab.

You tossed money at the cab driver, enough for a tip as well. The driver left you quickly, back at his job just as quickly as he had come. You were grateful the drive wasn’t long.

Michael’s lips still stained yours. You wanted to kiss Trevor. Bad.

It wasn’t that the kiss with Michael wasn’t good. In fact, it was great. It was a good kiss with a guy you had once loved, with a guy you could’ve built a good life with. But now it tasted like betrayal and lost worlds.

You didn’t bother knocking. The door opened slowly into the hallway. You could hear voices coming from inside the apartment.

“Debra isn’t gonna like this,” Floyd said nervously.

“Debra isn’t gonna like any of this. Don’t fuckin worry, I’ll make sure you’re man of the year in way of making girlfriends angry,” Trevor’s voice responded. When you turned the corner you could see Trevor was writing on the walls. The main entrance that had once said live, laugh, love, was now crudely covered with eat, shit, die. You recognized the handwriting.

“I really would prefer it if you didn’t,” Floyd said. Trevor turned around to answer him, some sarcastic answer hanging on his lips. He didn’t say it when he saw you. His face immediately softened and whatever snarky comment he was going to say died in his mouth.

“That was quick.”

“Michael’s fast,” you muttered. He narrowed his eyes on you.

“You didn’t-”

“No. No.” He nodded once. He felt relieved to hear that. You were his. He wasn’t gonna share you any more, he was sick of sharing you.

“Do you think you could get him to stop?” Floyd questioned. You looked at the walls, covered in black markers. You shook your head.

“He doesn’t have a leash.”

“My girl.” He waltzed back over to you, cupping your cheek with his hand and kissing you. It was the kind of kiss you were wanting. You melted into it, not caring that Floyd was watching.

Floyd wanted to make a comment about how you deserved better. But the way you leaned into the kiss was something Debra had never done for him. Maybe he could take some notes from Trevor.

“I grabbed the guest bedroom. King bed.”

“That’s Debra’s bed,” Floyd muttered, but neither of you listened.

“That sounds fancy,” you admitted. You smiled up at him, happy to be back. It was like a dream. All of those fantasies you had about what life could’ve been had started to mold into this weird perfect situation with Trevor. “You test it out yet?”

“I wanted to wait for you m’lady,” he said, lowly. You rolled your eyes but it didn’t seem genuine with the smile on your lips. He put his hand on the small of your back.

“Did you take a shower?” He was the one to roll his eyes this time.

“You’re askin a lot of me doll.”

“We need to go shopping too. I can get you all snazzy,” you promised. “I’ll steal some of Townley’s money to do it too.”

“You had me at steal.”

He was like a love struck puppy. It read in his eyes. Trevor fell in love with every girl who gave him a passing look. This one was looking right at him, always had been. He was so exhilarated with winning the game he and Michael had played for so long that he couldn’t feel anything else except lust and love.

“Shower.” He groaned, long, dramatic.

“You wanna come?” Your smile was playful. You pushed him towards the bathroom. He took it as a no. His hands lingered on you for as long as you let him. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“Scrub between your toes too T.”

“Yeah yeah.” He walked into the bathroom, waving. He hadn’t brought clothes in with him. He would either walk back out in the same outfit, defeating the purpose of the shower, or he’d walk out naked. You walked to the guest bedroom and grabbed some clothes for him, feeling Floyd’s eyes on you.

“How long do you think you guys will be staying?” he asked nervously. He could read Trevor but you were harder to understand. You seemed normal for the most part. He was worried you might blow up on him.

“Hopefully not long,” you promised. You could hear the water running so you opened the door.

“Ocupado!” Trevor called. You put his clothes on the sink.

“Wear these.”

“Is it lingerie?” You rolled your eyes and shut the door behind you.

“I’m sorry we crashed like this. Been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

“He doesn’t exactly care for boundaries does he?”

“Don’t say that too loud Floyd,” you joked. You looked around. Everytime you entered this apartment it was slightly dirtier. You wondered what would happen when Debra returned, storming through the door. “We’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible,” you lied.

“Okay,” he muttered. He looked down at the table, smeared with pizza sauce and other substances he didn’t want to identify.

“Sorry about him. He’s just kinda..like that.”

“So you two haven’t seen each other in a long time?” he repeated. You nodded once.

“I thought he was dead. He thought I was dead. Life of crime is not for the faint of heart,” you said offhandedly. You wondered if you should run to your apartment and grab some clothes. You wondered how long Trevor planned on staying.

“Yeah I don’t think I wanna be involved,” he explained. You shrugged.

“Happens to the best of us.”

You walked into the guest bedroom to look around for some clothes of your own to change into. You tossed your phone on the sheets, noting the new contact in it. Michael De Santa. There was a text from him.

You looked at it from afar, like reading it through a squint would make it less real.

It doesn’t have to be like this.

That was it. He knew it had to be like this. You had told him. You had a text from Lester as well. His faceless contact made your phone screen bright.

It’s safer to stay out of this, was all he said. You rolled your eyes. When had you ever cared about how safe something was? Your bullet wound in the shoulder ached with the memories. You didn’t like being warned or being persuaded. You turned your phone around.

The bathroom door opened. You were standing beside the closet, moving aside some of Debra’s things. Thankfully she seemed to have brought most of it with her, wherever she went.

Trevor walked into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. You met his eyes. He was clean, wet from the humid water. Finally wearing clean clothes, sweatpants and a shirt. He dipped his head to kiss you like you were giving him his last breath.

“I wanna get married,” he muttered against your lips. He was leaning against the bed, his back legs flush with the sheets. You laughed. “I’m serious. It’s been too long. We would’ve done it ages ago.”

“Slow down cowboy.”

You gently pushed him onto the bed. He looked up at you with the most devoted eyes. You straddled him, pushing your hair so it was out of your face.

“Aren’t you wanted by the FIB?” you questioned. “You think they’re gonna sign our marriage certificate?”

“We can get an Elvis. Get drunk. Have a month long honeymoon.” His eyes wandered your body. His body reacted quickly to you being on top of him. The thought was alluring, you couldn’t lie.

“Okay,” you breathed, kissing him. “Later. We have all the time in the world now,” you promised. “I just wanna stay right…here.” He moaned as your lips nipped his ear.

“Whatever you want.”

#trevor philips x reader #trevor philips x fem!reader #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa x fem!reader #michael townley x fem!reader #gta imagines

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chloe12801 · 9 months

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hi hiii ! hope ur doing well 🩷 i have a request for u if u'd like ! im curious to know how u think trevor would be with an s/o who is very quiet/shy/anxious? could be a headcanon list or a short fic or whatever u want ! no pressure and no rush ofc 🩷

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you are doing good as well :))

Headcanons: Trevor with a shy/anxious partner

TW: Drugs and violence mentioning

- He would take it personally at first, feeling that you think you’re better than him

- Really, that’s just because he’s never been shy himself so it doesn’t make sense in his head

- Once he realizes it’s not just a reaction to him and that’s just who you are, he’s way more understanding and respectful about it

- Essentially, it stops being a point of tension anymore

- He gets really happy once you start talking more and more, opening up to him as you get comfortable

- He sees it as his success

- If anyone is mean or even just says something teasing to you about your shyness like “cat got your tongue” or “wow, you talk so much I can’t even get a word in” Trevor will take offense and will start a fight over it on your behalf

- Sometimes the fights end in someone being dead and you being a bit mortified to say the least

- You’re used to people’s reactions about you being shy, it’s at most a bit annoying, but for Trevor it’s extremely disrespectful and makes him see red

- He makes sure your voice and opinions are heard even if he has to say them louder and with more force, getting mad that others aren’t listening close enough or at all

- For example, if you say something and no one pays attention, he’s going to yell at everyone to “shut the fuck up” and that “y/n just said *insert comment you made* but you fucks are too busy being pricks to hear them”

- His reactions might make things worse or embarrass you, but he’s honestly just trying to be helpful

- It would piss him off seeing how often you get pushed around and overlooked due to your shyness and anxiety. He never really experienced that and hates that you deal with it all the time, so he’s going to do everything he can to prevent it

- He always makes sure you’re comfortable and not overly shy or anxious

- If you do become anxious, he’s more than happy to go somewhere quiet with just the two of you to help you calm down

- He prefers your company over everyone else’s anyways

- He’s constantly checking on you and giving you support, even if it’s just him wrapping an arm around you, he always does something to keep you comfortable

- He likes talking and since you’re quiet, it works pretty well. You can listen to his ramblings and enjoy doing so

- He draws attention to himself and therefore to you, so you will likely fight about that. If you bring it up he will take it personal, like you’re embarrassed by him

- His lewdness and worshiping towards you is going to make you blush and feel awkward at first, but after a while it’s one of your favorite things he does

- If you bring up anything the helps you become less shy and anxious he’s going to make a note of it and have it in his mental or physical toolkit when you’re around

-He will probably offer you drugs to stop the anxiety, not realizing it would just make things worse

#grand theft auto #gta #gta v #grand theft auto v #trevor philips/reader #trevorphilips #trevor philips x reader #gta trevor #gta 5 #gta v trevor #gta headcanon #trevor philips headcanons #trevor phillips #grand theft auto 5 #cafa #cafa oc

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grandgtaman1a · 6 months

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The Holy Trinity in love with the same girl [Headcanon]

Pairing: Michael De Santa x Reader, Trevor Phillips x Reader, Franklin Clinton x Reader Characters: Michael De Santa, Trevor Phillips, Franklin Clinton, Reader[Female or Gender Neutral] Summary: Where Michael Trevor and Franklin are in love with you![Anon Request]

AN: I also wrote how the three would know about the other liking the reader Feel free to reblog and let me know your thoughts Do not repost

You are the enigmatic crew member, a highly skilled hacker who plays a crucial role in their criminal endeavors. Lester was amazed by your work and took you under the wing where you met Michael Trevor and Franklin Your intelligence and proficiency in navigating the digital underworld make you an invaluable asset to the team.

Michael’s Perspective:

Michael is drawn to your hacking skills. He sees you as a way out of the criminal world, someone who can help him find redemption. He admires your intellect and dreams of a life beyond the chaos of crime with you.

Trevor’s Perspective:

Trevor is infatuated with your fearless nature, especially when you're hacking into secure systems. He's intrigued by your ability to match his brand of insanity, and he considers you a kindred spirit. His obsession with you both excites and terrifies him.

Franklin’s Perspective:

Franklin is captivated by your charm, wit, and cool-headed approach to hacking in dangerous situations. He envisions a more stable and secure life with you, far removed from the chaos of the criminal world

You, however, keep your emotions and true motivations closely guarded. You use your allure and hacking skills to manipulate the trio to serve your hidden agenda, the nature of which remains a well-guarded secret. This love triangle adds complexity and tension to their criminal activities, making their adventures even more unpredictable as they navigate the treacherous criminal underworld, both in the real world and the digital one.

When Michael, Trevor, and Franklin all come to realize they are in love with you, it would likely lead to a complex and emotionally charged situation. Here's how they might react:

Michael's Reaction:

Michael, the more rational and calculating of the three, would initially try to keep his feelings hidden. He might feel conflicted about pursuing a romantic relationship with you, as he is also driven by his desire to escape the criminal life. He could become withdrawn and contemplative, trying to find a way to balance his love for the reader with his longing for a peaceful life. As the situation unfolds, he might try to maintain a friendship with you while struggling with his own emotions.

Trevor's Reaction:

Trevor, the impulsive and erratic member of the group, would likely react explosively. Learning that both Michael and Franklin have feelings for you would send him into a fit of jealousy and rage. He may confront the other two, leading to confrontations and potentially dangerous situations. Trevor's obsession with you could intensify, making him unpredictable and potentially reckless.

Franklin's Reaction:

Franklin, the younger and more idealistic member of the group, might initially feel guilt and insecurity upon discovering that Michael and Trevor also love you. He may worry that he's not a suitable match for her compared to the older and more experienced Michael or the wild and unpredictable Trevor. However, he could also become more determined to prove himself and win your affection.

The love triangle would create tension and conflict within the group, possibly affecting their working dynamic and leading to emotional outbursts. The reader's feelings and choices would play a crucial role in how this situation unfolds, and her decision could have significant consequences for the group's relationships and criminal endeavors.

#michael de santa #trevor philips #franklin clinton #gta 5 #gta #michael townley #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips x reader #franklin clinton x reader #the unholy trinity #gta v #grand theft auto v #grand theft 5 #reader insert #gta 5 x reader #headcanon

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habaaa · 7 months

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Hey everyone, I was doing some research in AO3, and I found out some HCs w reader of the boys (except Lamar, for me some reason it's really hard to find content of him).

All credits go to herbertwestsleftsock on AO3 on their book "another night in Los Santos", if you can, go and show them some love!

Franklin:

He likes cuddling, though he'd never admit it

Throughout the day he'll give you kisses on the cheek or forehead, or he'll hold your hand in the car or at home. It's not that he doesn't want to show PDA with you, he just doesn't really think about it too much

If you're ever out in public, you'll have his hand on your waist. He's not super protective but he'll show anyone who flirts with you enough body language to make them back off

Franklin's favorite thing to do with you is ride through the city and listen to music, just silently enjoying each other's company. He likes talking, just wants to enjoy the surroundings even if he's seen it a lot before

He really likes seeing you excited about something, and he'll encourage you go after it

Trevor:

He doesn't really show affection, like soft kinds in public. He might hold your hand sometimes, but usually he's smacking your ass or making sex jokes

Trevor is constantly telling you all the shit he wants to do, and your pasttime includes drinking on the roof of his trailer and hoping it's stable enough to hold both your weight

He'll take you on outings for his "business" but you'll just end up hanging out with Wade while him and Ron go and kill someone idk

Trevor is actually very affectionate, when you're alone he'll be clinging on to you and kissing all over

He'll constantly ask if you want to get married, saying he wants kids, that kind of stuff, but you're never sure if he means it or not

Michael:

Amanda isn't necessarily stoked about her ex husband seeing someone else in her home, but she doesn't care enough to tell you two to leave, just stares at the two of you from across the room and mumbles angrily about it

Michael's never been good with genuine signs of affection. He hasn't felt it since his first re-I mean, when he started his relationship with Amanda, and it's been years since he's gotten to express his feelings through words and actions. Don't expect your first time holding hands or kissing in public to be super frequent or early on

He'll often invite you out on the porch with him to smoke and drink, and one of those times is when you first kiss

He likes running his hands through your hair and resting his head against your forehead. Gives him a sense of ease, which he doesn't get often

Okay, that's all, remember to go and support herbertwestsleftsock on AO3 and read their book "another night in los santos" see you then :)

#franklin clinton #trevor philips #michael de santa #gta v x reader #gta #gta 5 #grand theft 5 #franklin clinton x reader #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips x reader

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tigertofu · 8 months

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HIIII IM LITERALLY OBSESSED W YOUR WORK LIKE OMFG KEEP IT UP <3 Can you write trevor x shy! chubby/fat reader smut 😼

hi hiiii !! i could not have asked for a better first nsfw request than this one 😭😭 i had SO MUCH fun with this prompt........ trevor/shy, chubby girl is licherally my specialty so tysm for sending it in 💕💕💕!

i have got to start remembering to add gifs to these posts......

pairing: chubby and shy fem reader/Trevor

summary: One night, the raunchy pickup lines of a strange man lure you from the bar you two met in to his trailer. Your nerves make your attempt at hooking up a bit difficult at first, but he knows just how to put your mind at ease.

cw's: explicit smut

wordcount: 2,747

ao3 link

“C’mon, sugar. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes darted up to meet those of the man who’s lips you’d just unlocked your own from. But even in the dim of his cluttered room, you couldn’t meet his gaze. It was so intense it felt like it would burn straight through your retinas.

“S–Sorry,” you muttered, staring at the cover of a porn mag on his crumpled comforter. A blonde woman in a red bikini, her long limbs perfectly posed, her stomach flat beneath the hint of ribcage under her impossibly round, perky breasts, graced the cover. The apprehension in your stomach quitched. You wondered if, despite Trevor’s interest in getting you out of the Yellow Jack and into his trailer the moment you acquiesced to his raunchy pickup lines, that was the type of woman he was into.

He groaned beside you. Flopped down with his back against the headboard of his bed.

“And stop fucking apologizing,” he said, tugging at the back of your shirt. You relented and scooted yourself back to sit beside him.

You knew the “sorry”’s were getting repetitive at this point. You’d squeaked one when you’d tripped over an empty pizza box on the way to his bed and caught yourself against him. You’d murmured another when you’d miscalculated which way to tilt your head when he’d first gone in for a kiss, causing the tips of your noses to bump against each other.

“I’m—” Your sentence got cut off by him reaching over to fondle one of your breasts. The warmth of his calloused palm seeped through your shirt and bra. Your nipple, which had perked up to attention the second his mouth had come down on yours a few minutes earlier, rolled beneath his hand. You made a whimpering sound in the back of your throat before refinding the strength to breathe out: “I–I’m just kinda nervous is all.”

“Nervous? Why?” He cupped your tit from below now, lifting it away from your chest, feeling out its weight and the way the soft flesh conformed to his hand. “You scared? ‘Cuz I promise I’m not gonna hurtcha, sweetheart. Unless you want me to. Orrr… Maybe you’d wanna hurt me? I’m always down for any of that kinky shit.”

“I–I don’t know why,” you huffed. As you spoke, Trevor’s free hand snaked its way to your thigh. He gave it an experimental squeeze. “I just am.”

But you did know why. It was the same type of shyness that dewed your forehead with sweat and cinched your vocal chords shut, making your words shaky, whenever you found yourself in an intimate situation. Anxiety that you’d do or say something awkward. That your partner wouldn’t like what they found underneath your clothes. It had increased tenfold the usual tonight though, because you’d found yourself here, in the bed of a man with years more experience than you, who you’d already sensed had a hair–trigger temper.

Trevor didn’t catch onto your lie, thankfully.

The hand on your thigh nudged upwards, leveraging your legs apart by a few inches.

“Don’t be nervous,” he cooed against the side of your head. His breath, malty with the half dozen beers he’d drank at the Yellow Jack while trying to woo you, curled warm against the shell of your ear. “Just relax… Relax and let Uncle T take care of ya.”

The nickname made your stomach roll over itself. In a bad way or a good way, you couldn’t be sure. Maybe both. What you were sure of, was that the moment Trevor finished with undoing the zipper of your jeans, he would find a pair of panties that’d already been soaked through with excitement.

A rolling growl came out of him when he made this little discovery.

“Nervous but wet as hell,” he said, clearly proud of himself for eliciting this reaction.

He squeezed your sex, testing the plushness of the area. The wetness spread underneath the cotton of your panties. You let out an airy moan.

With one hand still shoved down your pants, he moved to tug at the neckline of your shirt with his other.

“How about we get all these pesky clothes off, eh?” he crooned.

“W–Wait,” you suddenly cried, grabbing his wrist.

He jerked his head away from its spot beside yours. Flashed you an annoyed glare. You swallowed.

“I… Can I… I–Is it okay if I keep my shirt on?”

Trevor guffawed with sheer disbelief, as if you’d just told him to forget all the flirting and the brief makeout session you’d already shared, you’d actually changed your mind about fucking and would rather just watch a movie together.

“Why the fuck would you wanna do that?” he asked gruffly. “C’mon. I wanna see those tits bounce while I’m fucking you.”

“I’m…” Worried you won’t find me attractive. Worried you’ll say something mean. Worried you’ll change your mind about doing this. “…Nervous.”

He continued his confused glare. You ducked your head down, staring again at the porn magazine by your foot. A painful, silent minute spun out. Then, Trevor clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Listen to me. You are sexy as hell. You know that?” he said, his voice more low and even than it’d been a moment ago. You felt a bit embarrassed that he’d caught on to your need for validation, but overwhelmingly glad that he was freely giving it. “The, ah, ancient peoples… Greeks or Romans or whatever… They used to make statues of Venus—y’know, the goddess of fucking—with your type of figure.”

You glanced up at him. “Really?”

“They sure as shit did. Know why? ‘Cuz they had good taste. They knew that the more a woman has, the more there is to love.” He grabbed at your tits again, this time manhandling as much as he could with just one hand. “I mean—look at these puppies! And you’re so fucking soft… All over. Christ. I could just eat you right up, sugar.”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, feeling your cheeks warm. Nobody had ever complimented you like this before. It felt good. It felt genuine.

It didn’t feel quite good enough to quell your shyness, though.

You bowed your head again and watched your hands worry at the hem of your shirt. Trevor let out a harsh sigh as you retreated back into yourself.

Suddenly, he let go of you and clambered out of bed. You looked up and watched as he stumbled over the same pizza box you had earlier, which made you giggle a bit. The giggle stopped when he reached for the fly of his jeans the second he was on his feet and, in one hard yank, pulled them and his briefs down. Your head snapped back to the familiar sight of your own lap. There was a moment of clothing rustling as he stripped himself.

“Look at me,” he said firmly once he was finished.

By the sound of his voice, you expected to see another glare pinching his features when you followed his command. But he was actually smirking. You tried to keep your eyes pinned to his, but they were far too intense and you were far too flustered. So, you let your gaze schlep down his bare body as he stood before you, restlessly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his arms outspread in presentation.

Your attention caught on certain parts. His broad chest covered in a smattering of dark hair. The hard muscle filling out his shoulders. The way his waist tapered slightly inwards. A couple–inch–long scar just below his left ribs. His lean but not entirely flat stomach. The trail of hair that started just above his navel and ran down to—

You flicked your attention back up, settling on the ridge of his collarbone.

“Your turn now, princess,” he purred. “Don’t you know it’s weird to be the only fully–dressed person in a room?”

You looked him in the face and gave him a smile now.

“I… Well. O–Okay.” You added, a bit more demurely: “If you help me.”

“Atta girl,” he muttered, stepping up to the edge of the bed again.

He grabbed at the hem of your shirt and tugged up, encouraging you to straighten your arms over your head.

Being undressed by him was oddly comforting. The way he struggled with unclasping your bra and unzipping your jeans, growling curses at himself as his fingers slipped in his excitement, made you feel wanted. Desired. Needed. He grabbed random palmfuls of the softest parts of your body as he went, kneading them with shaky appreciation.

After he’d hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down and off of your legs, he paused for a moment. Standing over you as you sat on the edge of his bed, he drank in the full sight of your naked body. His dilated pupils jittered as they traced your soft curves.

“Look at you.” There was hunger in his voice, the corners of his mouth rising into another predatory smirk. You closed your eyes and tilted your chin to your chest, bashfully smiling. “Even fucking better than I imagined.”

A hand cupped your chin. Your head was thrown back and suddenly, his mouth was on yours again.

He shoved his tongue against yours. Breathless groaning leaked out from between his lips. You tasted them; drank in his desperate exhales and the bitterness of smoked cigarettes and downed beers and burned crystal. Part of you knew you should be disgusted. The other part, which was quickly ballooning into not just a part but a whole, told you to enjoy this—to enjoy all of him as he was enjoying all of you.

Before you knew it, you were on your back. He hunched over you, his broad silhouette blocking the weak light of the bare bulb hung from his ceiling. As he got closer, bending further, you felt something hot and hard and slick bump against one of your knees. You reached out blindly as you continued to kiss him, feeling for his erection. Your hand instinctively wrapped around it the moment your fingertips brushed against its head. Heavy and solid and wrapped with surprisingly soft skin, his cock completely filled your palm. You found that it was quite short, too, as you began to lazily pump it. Didn’t matter. Your fingers couldn’t even close all the way around him, he was so thick. A throb that felt both tightening and loosening at once travelled through your sex when you thought about just how far he would stretch you out.

Trevor hissed against your mouth, his frame suddenly drawing up tight. He bit at your bottom lip; tugged at it and growled around it.

“Fuck the foreplay. I think we’re both plenty ready.”

You murmured an affirmative sound against his lips, and he straightened himself up from you.

This time, you shamelessly admired his whole body as he moved to his bedside table and rummaged around in its drawer for a condom. A trickle of precum had leaked from the bulbous, red tip of his cock. There was a slight curve to his erection that you knew would press against that sweet spot tucked up inside of you just perfectly. It twitched against his fingers as he shakily rolled a condom down its length.

When he turned to you, he was grinning again. Your lower abdomen felt like it’d been turned to liquid. And as he grabbed you by the hips and yanked your ass to the very edge of his bed, spreading your thighs for himself, you felt that liquid seep from you. You briefly wondered if you’d ever been wetter; quickly decided you hadn’t.

Trevor reached down between the two of you to guide his cock. You felt him bump up against your sex. He made a few jerking passes up and down your slit, teasing you, nudging maddeningly briefly up against your throbbing clit before going back down to press against your entrance.

Your mouth dropped open when he finally eased his cock into your pussy. As your body stretched to accommodate him, pain bloomed deep inside you. He buckled forward, planting his hands outside your shoulders. You watched him wince and felt yourself grimacing, as well.

“Fuck,” he hissed through grit teeth. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You tried to say that no, maybe he was just big, but then he canted hips further, fully sheathing himself with a quiet squelch. Your words turned into a mewl. He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Thaaat’s it, sugar,” he breathed, straightening himself up again and yanking you even closer to him by your hips, until you could feel his balls pressing warm and soft against your ass. “Make those pretty little sounds for me.”

And then he was fucking you. And it was good. Really good. So good that even if you didn’t want to make “pretty little sounds for him,” they would’ve involuntarily bubbled up out of you anyways.

Every thrust of his hips sent a burst of achey pleasure coursing through your insides. He was so close—perfectly painfully, utterly pleasurably close—to being too thick for you to handle, and yet the generous slick your sex had sopped itself with made it easy for him to piston in and out of you. Each jab into you knocked a grunt from his scarred, parted lips and a wet whimper from your own.

His pace quickly became messy. Faster. Jagged. You clutched at the threadbare comforter beneath you. Watched, and adored, the faint ripple of hidden muscle flexing and unflexing beneath the fat of his stomach as he fucked you while he watched every tantalizing bounce of your breasts. The heady scent of sex quickly filled the room, mingling with the wet sounds of your bodies smacking against each other, making your head swim.

Just a minute into it, Trevor suddenly drove forward as far as he could. You let out a keening moan as you felt him fully bury himself inside of you, your core on the verge of completely melting down from the sheer goodness of being so incredibly full of him.

“You look so fucking good at the end of my boy,” Trevor growled, moving his hands from the bed to your tits. He greedily filled each hand with one, your plush skin overflowing from the spaces between his fingers. “Like a fucking dream, baby. Shit, shit, shit, I–I love you. I love you so, so fucking much.”

His voice warbled over the sentiment. He began to thrust again, going hard, his movements shallow but primal, keeping his cock almost entirely buried inside of you. Itching, hot tension moved through your guts. You threw your head back. Reached out and grabbed at his forearms as his hold on your breasts turned crazed and almost painful. Felt the hard muscle under his scar–spattered skin as he held onto you and you onto him.

As quickly as it’d appeared, the tension inside of you mounted up. Every swing of his hips, every huffed breath, every gravelly groan, inched you closer and closer to a climax that was approaching with reckless abandon.

“Trevor,” you managed to gasp out. “I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Good, good, g–good girl,” Trevor rasped above you. “C’mon, c’mon. Cum for me; cum all over that dick, sweetness.”

The tension swirled and condensed, cinching up every aching muscle of your pussy. With one drawn–out moan, Trevor thrust into you as deep as he could once more and you came completely undone.

Climax ripped through you. Your back, damp with sweat, arched off the bed. Static burst behind your closed eyes. Your pussy clenched and unclenched around his cock with the strength of a coiled spring shooting out then being pressed down again, over and over. In the white–hot haze of orgasm, you didn’t even notice that Trevor had stopped his thrusting until you felt his cock begin to pulsate right against your sweet spot, milked by the fluttering walls of your sex.

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” he whined.

He collapsed atop you once he was finished.

The two of you raced to catch your breaths. For how long, you didn’t know. All you knew was that, with his chest pressed against yours, the sweat of his skin mingling with yours and his cock slowly going soft inside of you, you felt more satisfied than you ever had before.

#gta v #gtav #trevor philips #trevor philips/reader #trevor philipsxreader #gta v fanfiction #gtav fanfiction #requests #trevor philips x reader

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stat1cstarz · 1 year

Text

TREVOR PHILIPS

NSFW ALPHABET

Not into Trevor at the moment.. but haven’t seen anyone else do him, so I felt like doing it.

Warnings:rough sex,absolutely filthy bastard

Genre:smut

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He barely takes care of himself, if you’ve seen his trailer you know what I’m talking about. I doubt the shower works anyways, but he’s still mindful of you, and he’ll try to take care of you. Either getting you something to eat, like take out, getting you a drink,etc.. his favorite form of after care though is cuddling you. Just ignore the stench.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s pretty insecure I feel, so he doesn’t really like any part of his body, but I’d go with his arms and his dick. His arms because they’re practically weapons for him, and if he didn’t have them he’d probably be broke, or dead. His dick because, well, you know how he is.. he’s a hoe, but we still love him

For you, he loves your ass, he loves thick girls to. So if you have a fat ass, he’s gonna call them his stress balls, cause he’ll take out all his emotions on it. He’ll spank it,bite it,lick it, he has no boundaries when it comes to ass.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’d prefer if it was on you, he doesn’t see a point of cumming inside you since he’s probably infertile anyways. But whenever he cums,he usually gives you a lot, he likes saving it all for you. But he’ll try to aim for your chest or ass, but he’ll cum in you if you tell him to, but it won’t be the first place he goes for.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I don’t know why, but I see him as the type to wanna get pegged by his partner, he wouldn’t be super open to it though, since he feels like it would ruin his image. But if you’re able to get past that, he’s good with it, he can be a bratty sub to though.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s experienced, he’s had sex on multiple occasions, so he knows what he’s doing. He’s also pretty smart, so he’d pick up quickly on what you like. Where to touch you,your kinks,etc..

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy style, he loves ass. I also feel like he’d be into full Nelson to, mainly cause he likes to be rough with you. He likes that he can hold you by your throat,while slamming inside you at a inhuman pace(probably cause he just snorted some bath salts)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Serious, only goofy on accident

He’s pretty humorous, especially around you,Micheal,and Franklin. But he sees sex as something serious, he feels like being funny would ruin it, and the mood. He’d also believe that all his progress went out the window, especially if he wanted to try something new, or tried to do something romantic.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Bob Ross bush, he doesn’t shave anything except his face. He’d shave it if that’s what you’d prefer, but if not, he’s just gonna leave it alone.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He’s pretty rough on you, but he can still be romantic. He’d light candles for you in the bedroom, than shove you face down, ass up into the bed. That’s just how he is lol.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off pretty frequently, but not when you’re home. He only jerks off at work or when he’s in Los Santos or outside of Sandy shores and can’t get help from you. He does like jerking off around you though, like mutual masturbation or voyeurism/having you watch.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Daddy/Mommy kink, slapping,spanking,bondage

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere, literally, anywhere. He has no respect for other people,and he’s a cracked out killer, he’d fuck you in front of a playground if he was horny enough.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Meth, I don’t know if a high libido comes with being high, but when he’s high he’s practically begging for you.

Or when you compliment him, like tell him he’s handsome,hot, etc.. he’s gonna be all over you

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degrading,he only talks to people he hates like that,and he doesn’t wanna think of them. He’s also insecure already, and wouldn’t wanna be talked to like that,especially from his partner

He also wouldn’t wanna include blood,shit,or piss

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers receiving, mainly cause he never gave oral, and doesn’t know what he’s doing. So you’d have to warm him up to it, but don’t push him. Than he’ll just get uninterested in oral all together

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and fast, CBAT shit

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s ok with them, if you’re horny enough or if he is, he wouldn’t mind getting you off.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Pretty risky, and ok with experimenting, only if you’re ok with it. But if you tell him about something, he’d be down to try it. One thing he likes is public sex. One time he took you to a drive in theater, it was pretty crowded, with cars everywhere.

But he decided to try some cockwarming, so there you were, him buried balls deep inside you, on the back of his truck, while a movie was playing

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s athletic, and usually cracked out on speed, so he can go for about 3-4 rounds till he’s tired or someone’s overstimulated. He’s also got enough experience to last a while, he prefers if you cum first anyways, so he’ll try to cum after you

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s good with toys, he’s willing to use them on you or himself. Wanna try double penetration? He’s got enough dildos for both of y’all. You like vibrators? What level do you want? You like anal? He’s ready for that to

In conclusion: he’s prepared for whatever you throw at him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you, making you beg for him makes him hard as a rock.

He also likes being teased, it gives him a reason to punish you and spank you, especially if you tease him around the two other cunts, or try to get attention from Franklin or Micheal. Or if you embarrass him around some important people or business partners

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud as hell, the whole trailer park can hear him.

He prefers making growls and grunts to, it’s rare they you’ll catch him moaning

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves fucking you while you’re drunk, or on your period. He loves that you’re so horny for him, and you just need him inside you. He wouldn’t fuck you on you period tho, but he wouldn’t mind fingering you. He wouldn’t want blood on his dick, but he gets blood on fingers a lot so he wouldn’t mind it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I know that he says he’s not big, but he is

I’ve seen him in just his underwear, and dear lord-

He’s about 9 inches, and 10 when erect. He’s also pretty girthy, but he’s mainly long. He’s not super big in terms of weight, but he’s about 6’1-6’3, so he’s got a good amount of length on him.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

High as shit, he’d fuck you everyday if overstimulation wasn’t a issue

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He goes to sleep late and wakes up late. You always fall asleep first,he also wants to make sure you’re safe to before he decides to sleep

#gta #gta v fanfiction #gta v #gta 5 #i need a big boy #trevor philips #trevor philips x reader

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rfxiii · 5 months

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Hi, i enjoy your headcanons and writing! I was wondering if you could write about Franklin, trevor and Michael with an S/O who is cold easily :)? I'm anemic and the winter weather is kicking my ass in that regard rn, lmao

(I’ve always had such bad anemia, so I totally feel you! It doesn’t get too cold here, but winter is literally the worst! Anyways! Tysm for the request, I’m sorry it took so long!)

TW: None

Franklin, Trevor, and Michael with a S/O who gets cold easily:

Franklin Clinton:

Over protective vibes are activated. If you get too cold, you could get sick. And he’s not letting anything happen to you!

He brings a spare jacket everywhere in case you need it, he cranks up the heat in the car/house, he buys a bunch of blankets. He’d even take his own shirt and jacket off to give to you if it looked like you needed it.

He’s not a great cook, but he’ll buy you tons of canned soup, hot teas, make you coffee- anything to keep you warm and comfortable.

He likes lighting his fireplace at night and sitting on the couch with you, in a big nest of blankets, while he holds you and fights off the chill of the night with your shared body heat.

He keeps track of the weather on his phone throughout the day to make sure you won’t need more layers and so he can update you on the temperature when you get ready in the morning. He’d even come to your work, or someplace in the city, to bring you an extra jacket if you’re out without him.

Trevor Philips:

“Did ya know gettin’ naked together under the blankets creates body heat?” He’s using any excuse he can to get you as close as he can. Luckily, he runs pretty hot, and it doesn’t get too cold out in Sandy Shores except at night.

He’s from Canada, he’s used to the cold. So, he may not be as sensitive to your needs as he should be. He’s a very “It’s not cold to me. Why’re you bitchin’?” kinda guy. He may pick on you a bit until he sees you shivering. He’ll give you his old, never-been-washed, denim jacket to keep you warm, after that. He really does care about your comfort, he’s just not super perceptive about that kind of stuff.

He’ll offer to make you soup/stew to keep you warm. Do not eat it! His heart is in the right place, but the last thing you want is to be freezing and have food poisoning. If you gently decline his offer, he’ll make Wade or Ron go somewhere and buy you something pre-made, and safe to eat.

Cranks up the heat in his trailer to almost unlivable degrees. It’s awful, it’s hard to breathe, he’s sweating everywhere- but his heart was in the right place and it is a sweet gesture.

Michael De Santa:

Are you cold? Well, now the most expensive, well insulated, name brand jacket is now yours. Congratulations!

He’s offering to take you on a tropical vacation every winter. It doesn’t get too bad cold in Los Santos during the winter, thankfully. But he’d do anything to keep you comfortable.

He shows up to see you with expensive coffee/tea everytime he sees you. And buys you tons of expensive, handmade wool blankets to keep you warm.

He offers to buy you a car with heated seats/heated steering wheel, etc. He’s all about keeping you warm and comfortable.

Secretly kind of likes that you get cold so easily, so he can pull the cheesy, romantic move of pulling off his own jacket and draping it around your shoulders when he notices you shivering.

#gta v #grand theft auto v #gta 5 #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton x reader #franklin clinton/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #michael de santa/reader #michael de santa x reader

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miranita · 7 months

Text

it’s been a while but I’m back…ish, i’ve been on my oc x canon era on twitter so I here’s some unfinished sketches that I’ll probably finish when I get some free time so in the meantime here they are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#i finally understand all the oc x canon hype #and I’m here for it #also if you’re not following me on twitter ur missing all the trikey art #gta v #trikey #michael de santa #trevor philips #gta 5 #my oc #trevor philips x oc #trevor philips x reader #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa x oc #grand theft auto v #my art #fanart #mir art #gta fanart

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strawberrybobamilk · 6 months

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GTA Protagonists x Reader Scenarios - Spending Halloween With Them

TW: Language, suggestive ending

Claude

Halloween isn't his favorite holiday, but will have lots of fun in decorating the house, eating sweets and bingewatching movies with you anyway.

Tommy

Likes watching classic 80s horror movies with you and dressing up as the villains from those movies.

"Trick or treat motherfuckers!"

Carl

He doesn't care how old you both are, he'll happily go trick or treating with you. He'll refuse to go dressed as a ghost, vampire etc though, as he thinks they are "too generic and unoriginal".

You: "What will you dress up as then?"

CJ: "A Ballas member. Nothing is nastier than them"

Toni

He'll go trick or treating with you, dressed up as a bloodstained killer butcher.

You: "Er, interesting choice, but why?..."

Toni: "Trust me, you don't wanna know"

Victor

Will surprise you with a pumpkin pie with cute spider decorations.

"Thought it would be a nice Halloween treat, darling"

Niko

He personally never really cared about Halloween, but definitely won't say no to candy corn! Also expect Roman, Mallorie and Brucie to come visit, all dressed up in various wacky costumes.

"Well, at least it's nice here with you guys"

Johnny

For him this day is more like an excuse to wear vampire fangs (he secretly has a thing for vampires).

"Damn you look hot, can you keep those on next month too? Or even better, forever?"

Luis

Will make his club serve pumpkin flavored cocktails to celebrate.

"Come over here and have a taste Y/N! It's free for you, like always"

Huang

Will buy more candy than usual during october. He says it's in order to ensure they have a good stock of them for october 31th, but you know it's just an excuse. Will wake up feeling sick on november 1st.

You: "I told you to not eat so much candy Huang!"

Huang: "Urgh, it's not the candy Y/N, it's... something that's not the candy, okay?!"

Franklin

He'll just chill with you and watch horror movies together.

"Alright let's do this, gotta use my Vinewood+ subscription somehow!"

Michael

Similarly to Franklin, he will (DEFINITELY) watch horror movies with you, but only the older ones.

"Ahhh, the old classics, the newer ones focus too much on jumpscares and gore"

Trevor

Loves Halloween, its spooky and gritty atmosphere, and will carve pumpkins with you already by september 1st. Just don't ask him why do those pumpkins have "questionable" holes.

"It's called a pumpkink sweetcheeks"

#grandtheftspooks #gta x reader #claude speed x reader #tommy vercetti x reader #carl johnson x reader #toni cipriani x reader #victor vance x reader #niko bellic x reader #johnny klebitz x reader #luis lopez x reader #huang lee x reader #franklin clinton x reader #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips x reader #gta scenarios #gta headcanons

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rreskk · 5 months

Text

Heatwave

Summary: Sandy Shores experiences a frightful heatwave in which disturbs Trevor and his sleep, leaving him to use the only source of entertainment - you.

NOTES: Hey guys. I've not answering requests at the moment because I really wanna focus on providing much more focussed fanfics! Trying to improve and experiment with my writing, but this means I'll upload more promising works! :)

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1856

The humidity was ravishing like a spiteful bliss of rushed warmth evaporating from an active volcano. The many layers of heat had tangled Hell into Sandy Shores, the rock roads fuming, the metal trailers sparking and burning up. A horrific heatwave during the summer hours of early dawn. What was present outside was also found inside; unbearable temperatures and sticky mattresses heaving at his naked skin. For once he tried to sleep but it came with a downfall of sweat and irritation. The 3 day bender of meth fuelled chaos ended and the sleep deprivation caught up momentarily. So with tiredness and angst, Trevor attempted to sleep the night before and, almost choked up by the heat, ended up lying there with eyes wide open, his back stuck to the duvet and his whole body measured with sweat — head to toe — every inch.

He glanced over to your sleepy figure and glared with distain. His body rolled forwards and it grinds against your backside, needly asking for some comfort and physical contact while in the moment of Hellish heat. Though you were just as sweaty with the mattress becoming damp, you had somewhat managed to enter the process of a light sleep, your eyes closed and face aching with trickles of sweat.

“Wake up…” his finger brushed across your damp stomach, “Don’t sleep without me.”

This tauntingly disturbed your peace and quiet as you began to stir, his breath heavy on the back of your neck. Throughout the whiplashes of consciousness, his stench grew more intense due to the humidity and increasing pressure of the warm heatwave that caused his bedroom to sickly hold this stream of his sweaty musk. Your nostrils were inflamed at the punch and you peered over your shoulder, just now noticing the layers of sweat painting your skin and sticking to your shirt. He met with your eyes, still frowning.

“What?” You murmured after being eruptively woken.

“I can’t sleep.” He simply said like it was your fault.

Begging to differ, your stomach coiled at his demonising scent and slowly, you sat up from the sticky sheets.

Trevor immediately followed you with his eyes and took advantage of the free access to your body, his hands grabbing at your waist and them warm fingers sliding across your bare skin. It made you shiver as the contrast of your sweat and his sweat mixed. The sensation was more or less hot AND bothering, an unwanted caress of butterflies moving around in your tummy and making it harder to breathe. Them damned hands are only making this heatwave worse for you.

“Trevor.” You’d warn since the illy-balanced fractures of bodily temperatures were apparent to cause future sickness.

“What?” He grubbed in response, scowling. His touch remained fixated on your waist and quietly ushering you closer to his side of the bed.

Knowing it wasn’t smart to argue against this revoltingly lustful intimacy, you shook your head to avoid any more of that sober grumpiness.

“This fuckin’ heat is killing me…” And with a slight tug, you were pulled back and into his lap. Your head planted onto the sweaty chest and he gazed down with a snarky smirk. “Hey.”

A hesitant muffle left your lips as you obtained the urge to find comfort in this gooey, humid situation. While lying against Trevor was a diamond in the rough, it didn’t help with your hair and clothes sticking to your body. Overstimulation, at its finest.

“It’s too hot for this.” You protested and attempted to sit up from his close proximity.

“Is it?” He questioned before grabbing the back of your shirt. “It’s never too hot to spend quality time with my girl.”

Your body went into immediate shut down and you couldn’t hold back the grudge. Limply falling back, you gave him a deceitful sigh. “C’mon, please. We both are tired—“

“From what I can remember, you were sleeping fine. Almost too fine…” He murmured.

“Before you woke me up.”

Trevor grimaced, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to spend time with dear ol’ Trev?”

“I didn’t mean it like tha—“ Before your sentence barely spat from your tongue, his hand perversely broke an entrance down your sweatpants, harshly groping at your pussy through your sweat-shaking undies. “Fuck!”

You felt him smirk at your initial reaction. Trevor increased his grip as your back arched, the overwhelming presence of heat turning into an internal arousal, defeating your inner dignity. He maintained your steady position in his lap while that hand only abuses your pussy harsher, suddenly clawing at your clit through the damp cloth.

“Trevor, stop…” You struggled with a smile, rocking your hips and thrusted into his hand.

“Atta girl. You love it, don’t you?” He whispered as his lips remained attached to your neck. His voice vibrated throughout your body, assisting the rush of blood to your stomach and lower. And from what you could tell, as that growing urge bulged from his crotch, he was excited as well. A bit too excited.

Disabled of vocalisation – jerking your hips is the only way of communicating since he had stolen your words. How he responded was physically intimate. His finger, clinging to your panties, pulling it aside and freeing the wet mess caused by his monster teases. You just wanted to rip off your clothes and free yourself from the chambers of sweat and overstimulation but he enjoyed watching you grow frustratingly sweaty and sticky. His eyes were peeled upon the hair that stuck to your face, the silhouette of droplets on your forehead and neck illumining from the lamp beside the bed. Trevor always loved it hot and messy, heatwaves setting him off when you submit such a sight to behold.

You clumsily pulled down your lazy sweatpants with the damp panties, kicking it away with the jerk of your feet. Now you could see his veiny, pulsing hands that dared to finger your clit more than it already is. With circular motion, you watched his thumb press down and interrogate the sex, assassinating the build-up of tension starting within your thighs and making them shake with anticipation.

“Oh yeah, that’s how I fuckin’ like it.” You heard him moan when sighting your exposed lower body.

As predicted, he shuffled around, your back hitting the mattress instead of his chest and his hand, based on your clit, increasing in pressure as he used it to continue the yearnful pleasure. You moaned, eyes closed, feeling his shadow looming over your body when another hand opened up your legs more.

“Look at me, baby.” Trevor pled.

“I can’t.” Everything was spinning that you didn’t have the guts to face him in fear of coming too early.

“Yes you fucking can.” He reached for your face and aggressively open up one of your eyes, grinning when your pupils expanded at the sight of his face. Sweat, perverted eyes, wobbly lips, sharply inhaled chest that his ribs were exposed, you were devastatingly attracted to this ugly version of him.

There he was, your dirty man; all rugged for your taste and all energised for the next taster. Trevor ensured you were to keep your eyes open before glancing down, his briefs hanging around his thin waist, tugging it further down until the happy-trail trickled towards the V-line, then hitting the sight of his touch-starved cock that was caked in god-knows how much sweat. It trembled when the dim light of his night-lamp stared it down, showing off the ugliness and divine ravenous.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out, beastly needing the Devil’s touch.

Trevor whimpered and lined his cock against your loose pussy, his thumb remaining tightly against your clit to keep you actively pleasured. Inhaling the last freedom of oxygen, he pushed inwards and took control. You both moaned at the intense gratification and fulfilment.

“Mhm… Yeah, that’s right,” He breathed when thrusting, his sweat being used as lube, “God, I fucking love you!”

You were being rattled relentlessly against the mattress as your back was inhumanly stuck to the material with nothing but pure sweat. His hands gripped your thighs and kept it wide apart when rocking in and out of your pussy, ignoring how frantically they were shaking. It made your head toss and turn to try and express this unnatural wave of euphoria.

Trevor chewed his bottom lip and adjusted himself onto his knees, leaning forward, lifting your legs up, the access to your sex getting bigger and the deeper he gets to fuck you. His hair was coiled in every direction despite the thinness after it was beyond bewildered by the caking of lather. It would occasionally drool down his face and drip onto your naked skin, his own fluids from the flesh of his body warming you up while he’s inside you – how dirty and filthy – how you are bonding and loving it like a Heavan in disguise.

“Trevor! Harder!” You unconsciously whined.

He shakingly gritted his teeth and slammed his hips wildly, “Shut –“ His voice lowered, “– the fuck up, baby. Fuck!”

“Please!”

The witch-craft – or as for now, bitch-craft – of your weak voice made him stammer forwards even more, his cock rapidly beating you to a pulp, just like you wanted.

You grabbed onto his shoulders and panted while he dismantled you like a doll. The sweat becoming equally as arousing, unlike before. He was taking great care of your pussy by demolishing it. So sweet and exasperating, a last blow threw you downhill and you gave him a high-pitched moan. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“Cum for… Fuck… FUCK!” Trevor aimed to command you but it backfired as he could barely hold himself hostage. So in a haze of immense desire, he pressed his wrenched forehead against yours and memorised this moment before the urge to cum was threatening to follow.

“Ah! Oh! Ohh…” A hurtful whimper lasted for seconds as your whole tummy went into a series of spasms, cum squirting out, painting his cock which was flooded with more warmth and more wetness than it already was. Trevor kept on fucking you through the orgasm and moaned your name repetitively, staring at you through his eyebrows as sweat dripped off his skin and onto your cheek like a dog drooling from it’s mouth.

Your face scrunched up and your climax met with his, a sudden blow of fluids attacking your pussy and deeper. He threw his head back and shouted. “FUCK! YES!”

The bed stopped creaking and shaking when he collapsed onto you. His face buried itself in the crook of your damp neck and his cock stayed inside you while it shook off the rest of his cum. The only sound was the shared breathing between you both that was as familiar as a wolf feasting its prey.

“Yeah…” He murmured suddenly, hands hugging your curves and more of his body weight pressing against you.

Rubbing his back, you whispered, “That felt so good…”

Trevor didn’t respond and closed his eyes. You were left comforting his tired body as he finally fell asleep, probably sleeping for the next 12 hours and caging you under his weight, making you roll your eyes but smile.

#grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #grand theft auto v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips fanfiction #trevorphilips #trevor philips/you #trevor philips headcanons #grandtheftauto5 #grandtheftauto #my fanfic writing #my fanfiction #my fanfic

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darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

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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marchsfreakshow · 2 months

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Suggestive/18+

Trevor Phillips who's secretly in love with how obsessed you are. He heard that camera and saw the flash out of the corner of his eye. But payed no mind to it. Ron saw you early in the morning, hiding behind Trevor's trailer, waiting a moment to grab something of Trevor's. But this time, the scruffy yet yet handsome man caught you. "You. You're the fuckin bird aren't cha?" You gulp and ask what he means before he rambles about how many photos he's seen you take of him.

But before you can say anything else, he's dragging you into the trailer and yanking the camera out of your hand. Your body landing on the damaged sofa hard. A soft 'ow' escaping your lips. Trevor's hands work quickly, turning the camera on and scrolling through the long list of photos. His eyes widened at all the photos. A wide variety. Even one or two of him jumping onto a train. "How did you get these ones? Did you know what I was doing?!"

"you were jumping onto a train...it looked good." You mumbled, meekly meeting his eyes. They were deranged, but nothing else. Like you couldn't read anything else about the man that stood taller than you.

"I look good to you then hmm?" He lowly asked, discarding the camera and the photo roll your way. The silence went on for a few seconds. "Your silence is offensive." Trevor walked out but turned back to you before he fully left the trailer.

"stay here. I'll be back for you."

"..alright."

The door slammed behind Trevor, and you were left on the rotting couch. Your eyes took in the sights around you. Everything you ever wanted. Right in front of you. leftovers, a shitty rug, a broken table, the barely functioning TV. It made you warm as you thought of every single that happened in this small home.

Getting up, you stepped into the small bedroom. Double bed, a broken TV and wardrobe. The clothes he wore, right in front of you. Your hands ran over a shirt. Freshly worn. The beige lines were lightly stained by little red marks. Blood? You didn't care.

It ended up in your hand, stuffed into your face as you laid back on his rickety bed. Every single thing had his erotic and musty scent burned into it. It drove you insane as you lifted your leg and your skirt was pulled up by gravity. A hand subconsciously moving to your red and warm clit. Moans were muffled by the maroon and beige t-shirt. Your obsession finally came to light as you were laid in the man's bed, touching yourself to everything about him you loved. Fuck the age gap, you thought. Following him for months, living off quick meals in the stores and taking little things from the outside of the trailer.

Just as the knot in your stomach was about to go, you heard the door open, "what the fuck?!" Fuck. But it was just too late. Glistening cum covered your two fingers and your inner thighs. Trevor stood in the doorway by his room as you shot up and threw his shirt onto the bed. "oh no no sugar tits. You created this. Let's...explore that." Trevor chuckled, taking your come covered hand and pushing you back into the same position you were in earlier.

You were secretly loving this. Trevor pressed ontop of you, undoing his trousers.

Your plan went perfectly.

@danzinmfndaze

#trevor phillips #trevor philips x reader #x reader #trevor philips #smut #gta v #gta #gta fanfiction #trevor phillips x reader #Trevor philips smut #grand theft auto #grand theft auto v #Spotify

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grandgtaman1a · 7 months

Text

Dating Headcanons with our Holy Trinity

Pairing: Michael De Santa x Reader, Trevor Phillips x Reader, Franklin Clinton x Reader

Characters: Michael De Santa, Trevor Phillips, Franklin Clinton, Reader[Female or Gender Neutral]

Summary: How would Michael Franklin and Trevor act on the first date and then on the second date?[Anon Request...]

AN: There can be inaccuracy... Feel free to reblog and let me know your thoughts Do not Repost. The collage quality sucks

Michael De Santa

The first date would involve:

>Michael is no stranger to high-end places, so he might take you to a fancy restaurant or a rooftop bar with a stunning view of Los Santos. He wants to impress you with his wealth and style.

> There would be a talk about his previous criminal life but limiting what he used to do in a witty banner he may share while giving a hint to it. His charm and charisma might be both captivating and unsettling.

>To add a bit of excitement to the date, Michael might take you for a thrilling drive in one of his expensive cars or even a helicopter ride over the city. He's not one for the conventional and would brag how he got it still hiding about his past

>Michael might surprise you with an extravagant gift, perhaps a piece of jewelry or a designer accessory. He's used to buying his way into people's favor.

>Given his temperamental nature, there might be a moment of tension or an argument during the date. He could get defensive or irritable, reflecting his troubled past.

The second date would involve:

> On the second date he may take you to the art gallery where it is low-key key or to a movie theater to show one of his movies Meltdown telling him how he was offered once and his dream coming true. Maybe talking about how he loves old Vinewood classic movies.

>Michael may use this opportunity to apologize for any tension or arguments during the first date. He might open up about his past mistakes and share his desire for a fresh start.

>He might ask about your interests and try to engage in activities that align with your passions. Whether it's art, sports, or even a cooking class, he wants to show that he's interested in getting to know you better. Sports may be a huge interest for him talking about how he has a huge tennis court back at his house practices yoga and drinks kale juice which kind of destroys his mood.

>Michael may become more affectionate on the second date, showing a more vulnerable and caring side of himself. He might hold your hand, steal a kiss, or simply be more attentive.

>Toward the end of the date, he could discuss his aspirations for a better life, away from crime and chaos. He may express his desire to change and build a stable, loving relationship.

Trevor Phillips

The first date would involve:

>Trevor is known for his love of chaos and danger, so he might take you to a sketchy biker bar or an underground fight club for the first date. He wants to gauge your reaction to his extreme lifestyle.

>Trevor's conversations can be intense, filled with crude humor and dark stories from his past. He might share tales of his criminal endeavors and show a twisted sense of humor.

>Expect the unexpected. Trevor might suggest an impromptu road trip in a stolen car or even go skydiving without any prior planning. He thrives on adrenaline and recklessness.

>Trevor might give you a bizarre or inappropriate gift, something that reflects his eccentric personality. It could be anything from a rusty weapon to a souvenir from a crime scene.

>: Trevor's explosive temper could lead to confrontations during the date. He might pick fights with strangers or engage in criminal activities that you may find uncomfortable or dangerous.

>At one point you would see inside the bodhi a summer dress thinking it is for you or any of his old dates but shocks you when he tells you that it is his which makes you have mixed emotions.

The second date would involve:

>For the second date, Trevor might surprise you by doing something completely unexpected, like taking you to a demolition derby or participating in a wild stunt show.

> If there were any confrontations or disturbing incidents during the first date, Trevor might half-heartedly apologize but quickly move on to the next chaotic adventure.

>Surprisingly, Trevor may show a more sensitive side by asking about your interests and trying to find common ground. However, this could still involve activities that others would consider insane.

>Trevor is not known for his emotional depth, but he might attempt to be more affectionate in his own strange way. This could involve a bear hug or a playful roughhousing

>Trevor might discuss his ambitions, which could involve grandiose, risky schemes. He may even propose you join him in a life of crime, thinking it's the ultimate bonding experience.

Franklin Clinton

The first date would involve:

>Franklin would likely choose a casual, down-to-earth location for the first date, such as a cozy restaurant, a local diner, or even a park. He values simplicity and sincerity

>Franklin is a relatable character who's easy to talk to. He might discuss his aspirations, his love for cars, and his desire for a more stable life. Expect a genuine and friendly conversation.

>He might suggest an activity that reflects his passion for cars, like visiting a car museum or going for a scenic drive. He wants to share his interests with you.

>Franklin might bring a thoughtful, small gift that shows he's been paying attention to your interests. It could be a book, a piece of art, or something related to your hobbies.

>Franklin generally avoids confrontations and would strive to keep the date drama-free. He's looking for a connection rather than chaos.

The second date would involve:

>For the second date, Franklin might plan a more adventurous outing, like hiking in the nearby hills, going to a live music performance, or exploring the city's cultural scene.

>If there were any minor issues or misunderstandings during the first date, Franklin would likely address them with a sincere apology. He values open communication.

>He would inquire more about your interests and try to plan activities that align with your hobbies. Franklin wants to connect on a deeper level.

>Franklin would become more affectionate on the second date, perhaps holding your hand or stealing a kiss if he senses a mutual connection.

>Franklin might discuss his plans for the future, which usually revolve around his career, financial stability, and personal growth. He's determined to leave his criminal past behind.

#michael de santa #trevor philips #gta 5 #franklin clinton #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips x reader #franlin clinton x reader #headcanon #dating headcanon

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