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rreskk · 5 months

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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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starksinner · 7 months

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Why Didn't You Stop Me?

Summary: You left and you horribly wish he would’ve forced you to stay.

Pairing: Trevor Philips x AFAB!Reader, Franklin Clinton x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Sexual Content, Possessiveness, Fuckbuddies, Unhealthy Relationship, Average GTA Stuff

November 16th, 2017.

It was easy to regret not catching a ride back to Los Santos with Franklin in his sexy white Bravado Buffalo S.

Regret is easy, regret you know. Regret can grow and grow it does as you make eye contact with the hillbilly jacking off next to the icebox in front of the Yellow Jack Inn.

After a couple of days gallivanting around the desert shit-pile that was Sandy Shores, Franklin deemed that your weed-fuelled, fuck-filled adventures had reached a necessary end.

Despite his intriguing offers of more shenanigans and freaky sex once you both got back home, you weren’t all that keen on leaving the town of meth production and Republican rednecks just yet.

“M’gonna go see him,” you sighed, resting your head back against the stained motel pillow.

Moments before, as Franklin had fucked you raw into the cheap motel mattress, you were met with the smell of blood and piss and cum as your face was shoved into the shitty cushion.

Despite the abysmal scent, the man was taking you so good and so fuckin’ hard, you couldn’t force yourself to care.

Now though, as you laid sated in your post-climax glow of sweat and semen, the smell against your cheek served as an unignorable reminder of your still bleeding heart.

That man, that asshole, that meth-head-Trevor-Philips-piece-of-fucking-shit—goddamnit.

You still hopelessly, stupidly, selfishly loved him. The fucked kind of love.

Always caked in blood, smelling like piss after running off to get high and grinning like an evil bitch as he came all over your chin and tits. The smell of the Derelict Motel—the sheets, the pillow, the musty air—was all just a nauseating reminder of how much you missed him.

Your therapist was gonna kill you.

“You know that ain’t a good idea,” Franklin murmured, running his thumb over the plushness of your bottom lip.

Your eyes met his and you couldn’t help but shiver at the way he looked at you, his gaze so soft and so full of adoration.

He made you feel like you weren't just a burning shitpile of flesh, bones, and substance abuse issues.

Frank is a good friend, a great man, a nice fuck. He was always there to bring you back down to Earth. He was so easy to love and you sure as shit loved him a whole lot. Beautiful fuckin’ man. “He ain’t right in the head about you.”

“We both know he ain’t right the head about nothin’,” you argued, leaning your body over his. Beautiful man.

“And he’s a big boy. He can take it. Whatever I wanna throw at him.” Your legs quickly became tangled, Frank’s hands resting over your hips as you smiled and played with his chest hair. “He can fuck all the people he wants, but I can’t touch or look or fuckin' breathe around anyone but him? He’s a fuckin’ ass.”

“He fell for you, girl. T’s always been crazy an’ possessive, his shit ain’t nothin’ new.” Franklin snuggled your body closer to his, sighing softly as he pressed his face into the warm crevice of your neck.

He couldn’t control himself, not when he had you like this. You were so hot and so sweet and just so fucking delicious.

Shit.

His lips lingered over the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, his tongue reaching out to tease a fading bruise. He did that. He made that. He marked you.

Fuck.

He groaned as you gave him easier access by raising your chin, letting him worship you like the real fuckin’ princess he always thought you were.

“He was fuckin’ paranoid and possessive in all the worst fuckin’ ways, Frank. I fuckin’ hate him for how he acted when I said I was leavin’ but I still...miss him.” You hummed softly as you felt Franklin’s lips suck right over your pulse point, his teeth just brushing over your delicate skin.

You held down the urge to beg him to bite you.

“Yeah, you miss him, but ain’t nothin’ gonna be solved if you both end up killin’ each other...or fuckin’ each other,” Frank breathed roughly against the shell of your ear as his hand wandered across your stomach and down to your aching clit.

He immediately preened at your wetness and teased the bundle of nerves with soft, circular motions. You gasped as you felt his cock harden and twitch against your thigh, begging for your pretty fucking attention.

He grinned and quickly shoved a finger into your cunt, making you moan and writhe oh so beautifully against him. “Jus’ come back home with me, baby…”

You could barely solidify your thoughts, whimpering like you were.

His motions were so smooth and perfect and rhythmic. Frank was good at a lot of things, but you considered his talent of fucking you mindless as one of his top three.

You immediately felt your wetness start to leak down your thighs. “If he still isn’t over it...I’ll fuck off, hitch a ride, meet you back at your place…yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” he gripped your throat just how you like and shoved another finger into you, leaving you mewling and squirming in his grasp. You reached for him, hard and thick in your palm, and squeezed.

The best girl.

If you were parting ways, Franklin was gonna have you one last time. He understood Trevor’s possessiveness. You were great company, a great fuck, a great woman.

Addicting, hell blazing, heavenly—you were everything. So fuck yeah, he was gonna have you as many times as he possibly could. “Lemme take care of you, babygirl, then you’ll be all good to go.”

The Yellow Jack Inn has never been known for its posh customers or regular demonstrations of human decency, but a man jacking it in front of such a fine all-American establishment is still a sight you couldn’t have properly braced yourself for.

As the ash of your blunt falls to the dirt, your eyes stay transfixed on the man by the icebox as he lets out a disturbing howl and drops to the ground.

His pants are stained, his dick disgusting and soft. He lets out a series of groans as he turns to lie flat on his stomach, his cock scraping against the sand.

Jesus H. Christ. What a charmer.

You manage to twist away from the scene in repugnance and perhaps a more sinister part of you in mild delight, settling yourself in the alley next to the bar.

You restlessly attempt to calm yourself against the brick, picking at its shoddy green paint job before you begin rolling another blunt.

You’re stalling. Like a little bitch. It's embarrassing how much a man can turn you into such a conniving fickle coward. Perhaps not just any man. Your paranoid fuckin’ shitshow of a somewhat ex-lover.

Embarrassing. Unbecoming. Completely mindfucked.

You know Trevor’s inside. He’s an enigma, a loud, idiot one at that. Over the noise of clanked bottles and shitty laughter, you can hear him.

Stupid, how much of him you can hear. And see. And smell. And understand. In everything and anywhere and with anyone. He never leaves you even when he’s left you. He never leaves you even when you've left him. He’s a parasite that you’ve coddled, and cared for, and loved and fucked.

The timber of his voice warms you in a special, fucked up kind of way. It’s familiar and it’s settling and it kills you to know that he’s spent fourteen months ridding you of it. Of him. His clinical insanity has rubbed off on you beautifully. You left and you horribly wish he would’ve forced you to stay.

God.

Would he kill you? Kiss you? Fuck you? You’re still stalling.

Maybe all three?

Being the oil to a homicidal cannibal’s match, you could never really know what the fuck you were gonna get. You anticipate an explosion, but you’re clueless to its degree.

You pocket your blunt, walk over the man with his dick in the sand, and open the door to the biggest health hazard in California.

Chapter 2

a/n: found this oldie from 2021 that i was in the mood to refresh & post! i haven't written in literal years, be nice to me! also, happy ten years to this stupid fucking game. i love u. i feel old (i'm not) and i'm tired (constantly) and i hope you enjoyed (lie to me if you didn't) :3

✧ masterlist ✧ ao3 ✧ send me an ask / let's chat! ✧

#trevor philips x reader #franklin clinton x reader #trevor philips #trevor philips x oc #franklin clinton #gta v #grand theft auto v #gta fanfiction #gta fanfic #the protagonist #gta online

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miranita · 1 year

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#the amount of fanfics I’ve read of them the past few days #they’re my last 2 brain cells #trikey #michael de santa #trevor philips #gta v #mir art #my art #michael townley

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ask-carmenpondiego · 18 days

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Chapter 18: The Devil in the Details

M paced around his room which was fairly sparse of furniture. He already burnt through a solid pack of cigarettes since returning from his test run of the chronoskimmer and was well into his second pack. He pulled out his phone and patched through to the main computer, 079 pulling its face up on the screen. “Oh wonderful. You managed to spread my reach to your tiny slip of a mobile device. Could you make it any more cramped in here?” M growled, “I will stuff your stuck up assface into an ipod shuffle or worse if you keep it up. I need to go over the schematics on where I went.” The ai sighed as if it had something pressing that it was being pulled away from. It didnt. 079 pulled up the data code from the testing, giving a strong impression of if it had a body, it would be checking a watch and tapping its foot. M poured over the info and triple checked the details. “Everything is fucking correct for this world’s info. What the fuck happened that lead to that?!” 079 swirled its hair into a turban and had images of fortune telling items around its face “You know, I would tell you but I’ll give a little trivia factoid instead: I actually cannot see into the future. I’m a computer, not a psychic. I don’t even have a clue on what you even saw.” Red letters spelling CANCELLED were stamped across the turbaned ai face before returning to normal, wiping away the letters with a digital rag. “Yer no fuckin help.” M tossed the phone onto his bed and opened his window, leaning on the sill. “Perhaps what you saw was not what you saw?” 079 called out, muffled since the screen was face down against the comforter. M’s tentacle reached over and set it upright. “Elaborate.” M looked over his shoulder at his phone. “What you saw in one perspective was perhaps not the full story and you may have missed some key points. Ultimately, time will only tell. Its unadvisable to return to a time that you already visited, much less a time where current you and other you occupy the same time space. Time paradoxes still exist, you know.” M hissed at it through gritted teeth, “Yes I know time paradoxes still fucking exist! But HOW do I fucking change the event if I don’t know what fucking causes it?!” The phone was silent for a moment, “I’m sorry, was that rhetorical? I can’t quite understand the fragile folly of organic semi-intelligent beings. You could just let it happen rather than attempt to fix it and possibly bring about the resulting event faster.” M hung his head and flicked the cigarette butt out the window, “How the hell do you figure that?”

“I don’t. Again, I’m just a computer. I don’t give one iota of interest in what you do. Anything you do is your own fault in itself. In your words: I don’t give a shit.”

M ran his dark hands through his orange hair, “I’m going to have to tell Red.. can I even tell Red?” He points to the phone accusingly, “You just had to tell me that any fucking action I take could make it fucking happen faster! Now I can’t even fucking warn anyone!” In a very bored flat tone, 079 replied, “Oh no. I warned you against possible consequences for your actions that may or may not happen. What ever shall I do?”

“Report this to the TVA director, this is exactly what they have been looking for.” A small time desk jockey was reading a print-out of the timeline, noticing a new unauthorized time jump. He handed the print-out to a passing official who nodded and took the file containing the report. A short trip down the hall the official knocked on the director’s door, and entered upon permission. The director reviewed the file and started dialing the phone next to them. On the other end, a gentleman in a dark grey suit answered, thick files littered his desk from the MIB, ACME, SCP Foundation, United Nations Global Occult Coalition (UNGOC), G.R.U. Division Psychotronics (GRU-P), Earth Protection Force (EPF), Department of External Security (DXS), Federal Bureau of Control (FBC), Federal Bureau of Intervention(FBI), Federal Investigation Bureau(FIB), Foundation for Law and Government(FLAG), International Affairs Agency(IAA), the Wander Society and various other Interpol including Canterlot Royal Guard and Equestria’s global protection unit, all involving Carmen Pondiego and her VILE team.

The gentleman added the Time Variance Authority (TVA) file to his stack. “I see and this new variance is the confirmed beginning to our little thief problem? Understood. …..No, no. We already have eyes and ears on the entire group…… Oh yes, we have our contingency plan all set and planted, we just need to knock that first domino to put a bit of pressure on the situation…. Yes, just keep an eye on that variance timeline and let me know of any further splits or deviance… No, no, Thank YOU, Director. May prosperity raine upon you. Good bye.” A second gentleman with an umbrella hanging on his arm by the hook, seemingly a lower rank, stood in front of him. “Sir? If it has been confirmed for the beginning of the situation, then shouldn’t we eliminate the entirety as soon as possible? I mean, look how many unnaturals she has under her power. The reports say she gains more within a year or so and so does her reach.” The man at the desk tidies up and stacks the files and sets them aside. “No. There is a small chance this is the one who will lose it all and becomes a regular citizen again. We need to see if this time skip triggers anything. We have the safeguards in place. They just need to have the nerve to do what is demanded of them if the time comes. For now, we wait and gather more evidence against this Carmen Pondiego and her VILE team.”

A small red jet circles and lands on a dusty dirt patch outside a fortress ruin on an island on a lake by the southside mountains of Siberia. The fortress, once called Por-Bazhyn, sat undisturbed for many a year, though it currently looked like it was all filled in with dirt. The jet opens to let out its passengers, a few agents and Carmen. They headed to the main entrance and stopped just shy of the opening. Carmen looks at the blueprints and looks at a smaller opening about three yards to the side, “This is where we would typically enter but there had been damage to the interior entranceway further in where it just gives us a dead end. We’ll need to divert to the servants entrance over there.”

Once inside, they descend multiple flights to underground caverns and tunnels. Using their map, the group makes their way through twists and mazes, finally getting to a small open room with a deep drop in the center, the other side of the room was a chest, the walls were rough chiseled and some carvings have been broken away by time. The drop was just large enough that even an olympic jumper could not simply jump across. There used to be a rope bridge but has since rotted away.

Carmen nodded to Kiros who sank his claws into the wall and tested the weight of the grip. He then scaled across the chasm, making slight hand and footholds with his claws and hooked a line at the halfway mark and continued to cross the rest of the way, securing the line with a large pillar. Carmen and Lekir hook up their harnesses and attached the safety line before following exactly where Kiros had set his claws. Slowly making their way across, the girls didnt dare look down, Ninoga, staying on the entrance side of the room, was able to look down and see sharp staligmites growing up from the bottom of the chasm. “Nothing like an old fashioned temple heist with deadly drop offs for hobbies, huh?” Carmen chuckled, breathing hard as she hasn’t rock climbed in quite a while. Lekir shook her head, “You and I have different views on hobbies, I swear..” Ninoga tilted his head, “I thought we were getting things for a cure for Waldo?”

“We are, I was just saying this harkens back to when I was doing this for fun.” Carmen clarified, reaching the ledge. Lekir followed close behind as Carmen opened her pack to grab the extra rope and harness sets. She walked to the chiseled out shelf that holds the chest and checks for traps before picking up the chest which was surprisingly light. She frowned as she placed it near the harness set she was going to wrap it in and looked at the lock. The remains of the lock were already breaking away in her gloved hand in a pile of rusty dust. Kiros peers over, “Whats wrong?” Carmen shakes her head, “Its lighter than I expected..” Lekir comes over, shining her flashlight over for extra light since the room was very dimly lit by their larger lights they brought. “Well, we know we aren’t looking for coins and jewels, maybe it only holds a jar or something?” Carmen wipes the dust off her glove with her pants and proceeds to open the chest. With a yelp from both girls, the chest snapped back with a large set of teeth and a tentacle like tongue. They managed to scramble back out of chomping range just in time to see a red electric bolt shoot the chest from the side, blasting it into the wall with a crunch. Ninoga had sent the blast and called over “You guys ok?! I didn’t hit you, did I?” Carmen was catching her breath as Lekir waved over, “We’re good! Thanks!” Kiros was picking the broken pieces of wood apart, finding some meaty bits. “Should we save some for M as a snack?” He chuckled. “He’s gonna be sour he missed out on this.” He searches a bit more before finding a small scroll. “Here, I found something in the deep center.” Carmen reached for it, inspecting the type of parchment. “This is hide… its a rabbit hide!” She laughed, “Its the rabbit in the chest! So this is already the next clue.. This is awesome. Let’s get this back to HQ so we can figure out the next stop.” The girls carefully made their way back across the wall, having the two dragon types as watchers in case one of them fell, they could hoist them back up easily. They both made it without incident, with Kiros packing away some of the meat before scaling the wall, taking up the equipment he had set for the safety line.

After packing up the climbing equipment, the team made their way out of the tunnels and chambers and back towards the jet. They were met by a small group of militarized officials standing between them and their escape ride. The officials carried old looking bladed weapons as well as rods and had armored horses. The horses suddenly charged at the Agents, making the four scatter. One of the officials threw what looked like a bolas towards Kiros to which Lekir slid in and deflected with an ice spear she created, sending the bolas right back at the official, making him fall off the horse. The horse was startled and started to run with the official’s leg still stuck in a stirrup. Ninoga sent two officials flying with a good tail swipe while the last had gotten off of his horse to fight Carmen with close hand to hand combat. That didnt last long since Kiros picked him up from behind, tossing him to the wall as Lekir sent a smear of ice to hold him there like glue. Carmen was only a little cut up but she confirmed with a smile, they still have the loot.

They all piled back into the jet and set off to HQ, a fifth official that held back out of sight had made a call, “They have escaped. We could not detain them. I am sorry but we have failed to secure the scroll…. Sir? Please we will not fail again.. please no!” The official started begging before dark green vivianite crystals rapidly grew and speared through his body at all angles, severing organs and leaving nothing but shreds of flesh and bones between the multitudes of shards.

When they returned, Carmen was holding her torn red coat and had some cuts on her arms and side. Wally rushed up to her and held her close, making her wince, “Oh my Light! I’m glad you’re ok! I heard over the coms you needed a med kit! Do you need a hospital?!” Carmen pried him off, chuckling, “Nothing I’m not used to. This is why we train. I just got a few scrapes from some bladed guards. I just need some antibacterial gel and gauze. Its nothing! I don’t think these will even scar up.” Lekir laughs, “She’s the squishy out of all of us technically!” She slaps Carmen’s plush ass as if to demonstrate her plushness. The mare blushes and sighs about needing to sew her fabric coat yet again.

Asta nudged Wally’s arm a bit and he perked up as he remembered. “Oh! While you were gone, I went ahead and got you something. They didn’t have your bright red but maybe you will like this darker scarlet shade.” He handed her a box to which she took to the dinner table. Opening it, she grinned and chuckled as she lifted a brand new leather coat, a sleeker, lighter weighted design and had custom pockets on the inner lining and in the sleeves. She tried it on, wincing slightly as she moved, but overall had it on and it had fit perfectly. It even had a split back where her tail was able to freely peek out. She popped the collar and laid it bad down with ease and stuck her hands in every pocket she could find. “This is beautiful!! Thank you so much!!” She wrapped her arms around Wally and kissed him deeply. “Asta helped me with the sizing. She had to raid your closet for the right size. Now sadly they didn’t have a hat to match, so its just the coat for now.” He confessed, but she chuckled and put her hat onto his head. “Hats can be another time. Those can be a tough find anyway. But this is wonderful, thank you…oh! We also have good news! The chest had the next clue in it so we can go right to the duck that will lead us to the eggs! We’re almost there! We almost have you cured!”

Wally’s smile fell a split second as a worried look flashed. “I’m sure we will before it gets too bad.” M hung back and watched everything like a hawk, looking for any sign of the cause of such hatred he had seen on future Carmen’s face. It bothered him more than he expected, he wanted to say he didn’t care much about any of this just like 079 clearly stated as its own opinion. What M did find was that he was more attached to the whole team but moreso Carmen. As they joked, one thing was right, the majority of the team could handle a bullet or two and heal the next day. But Carmen was full mortal flesh and blood, no special powers, she couldn’t even use regular unicorn magic. Yet she dove into dangerous situations all the time with no regard for her own safety, as if she were one of them regardless of all the planning she does to keep everyone safe during their missions. And that bothered him even more since his test run.

He watched as she patched herself up all carefree, he puffed on his cigarette as he broods. It gnawed at his thoughts, he severely wanted both to go back to the future to figure it out but knew 079 had a very glaring and valid point. He thought about slipping off to the mech lab to tinker a bit more on the pod, seeing if he can alter something so its just not a time machine. He needed a distraction and his previous conversation of traveling to other universes may prove to be just the right project to give him that distraction.

A distraction did come to him, just in the form he didn’t expect. Carmen’s waterbottle was clear glass, yet the liquid had the absolute faintest blue glow, easily missed by casual glances. Perhaps 079 was right with his perception. He just needed more proof. He slinked off towards Carmen’s office as she laughed and had happy conversations with the others. She opened the scroll and showed the others. “Lets see what this thing says.” She laid it out on the table next to the coat box and tilted her head. Everyone gathered around for a view. “Is it supposed to be mostly blank?” The hide was indeed mostly blank, the bottom had a mountain ridge and a river and sporadic spots on the upper part that were either ink or tiny holes burnt through with a few sketch lines dashed in going a single direction. Otherwise it was very blank.

“Perhaps its a type of morse code?” Kiros rubbed his chin, Asta shook her head, “No, that was invented in the Amareicas in the 1830’s. And its not cuneiform.. the holes almost look like star alignments yet I dont recognize the placements but the other dots aren’t stars.” Carmen looked up and saw that M wasn’t there. She excused herself and went to search for him, finding him in her office, searching drawers and shelves.

“M, what’s going on? You’ve barely been around and more moody than usual since working on the chronoskimmer.” She inquired, setting her bottle on her desk as he was searching underneath for hidden compartments. He peeked up with a glare and his eyes darted to the water bottle and back to her, “Nice, acting stupid and oblivious right to my fuckin face.” Carmen furrowed her brow and lowered her ears, “Excuse me? But I have absolutely no idea what the hell you are going on about and I deserve an explanation for your behavior!” He stands and leans on the desk between them and whips the bottle across the room, smashing it against the wall. “THAT is what is going on. You have been way too easy going when it comes to your own safety, your cycles have been more intense, your pain tolerance is way too fucking high for a normal fucking pony, and your water always has a familiar blue glow to it. You’ve been fucking microdosing that fucking zydrate this whole fucking time! Now tell me where the rest of it is so I can fucking destroy it, you fucking junkhead!” She snarled at him and slapped his face to which he snapped his hand out and gripped her hair, slamming her head to the desk, “Don’t you FUCKING act all offended. Now I don’t give a fuck what withdrawal you suffer. Tonight you get clean for good and you never get high again. If you don’t listen to me out of fuckin fear, then at least do the fuckin curtesy of telling my brother that your so called happiness is a fucking lie. Fuck knows he deserves to hear the fuckin truth.” He growled as she struggled against his grip on her head as he held her down. “I will NOT let you go down a drug bender and do something you fucking regret!” She blinks and stops struggling for a moment, “What did you say?” She asked. His voice had a hint of unusual worry that she had caught. “I said I will not let you..”

“Yeah I heard that but you sound like you know something I dont..” He lets her up and avoids looking at her both out of fury and confrontation. “I’m not telling you. You are not supposed to know.”

She rubbed her head and walked around the desk, gripping his arm to turn him towards her, “Fuck that, you don’t get to assault me, accuse me of being a brainless addict AND withhold important information from me! Now tell me what you know!” He growls and grips both her arms, squeezing one of the deep cuts by accident, making her yelp. “I FUCKING CAN’T.”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Because I don’t know what fucking causes it!”

“It can’t be that bad. We’ve dealt with pretty bad shit.”

He shakes her a bit, “I saw you fucking die, okay?! It’s that fucking bad!”

The color drains from her face and she steps back from his grip. “When.. how?”

He sighs and puts one hand on his hip, the other running through his hair stressfully. “Three years, shot in Times Square.”

She let the information sink in, both hands on her hips, looking at the floor. She sighs and nods after a few silent moments, “Okay. Luckily the future is not set in stone. Let’s ban Times Square from our destinations. I’ll secure those guns my sister gave as a gift into the vault, far back so its hard to get them. And I really wish you didn’t smash my water. That was the last of the zydrate I had and boy, I could sure use some after that bomb you just dropped.” She looked at him, all coldly somber and turned to walk out of her office and back to the rest of the team. “We need your help to crack the riddle on that hide we brought back. Clean up your mess and join us when you’re done. I’m going to ice this bump on my head now and pour myself a stiff drink.”

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gunsoffire · 2 months

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Buried Inside

I actually wrote a fanfic for this game, wow!

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms:

Grand Theft Auto V

Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games)

Relationships:

Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips

Michael De Santa & Trevor Philips

Characters:

Michael De Santa

Trevor Philips

Additional Tags:

Fight Scene

POV Michael

One Shot

Fix-It of Sorts

Homoerotic Implications

Bury The Hatchet (Grand Theft Auto)

I Wanted Them to Kiss but Unfortunately They Didn't

My First Work in This Fandom

Words:1,630

Buried Inside by KissOfLightning (AKA GunsOfFire)

Summary:

What if the Chinese took a little longer to reach Trevor & Michael in North Yankton? Alternatively, what was going on in Michael's head?

Work Text:

As Michael rushed through the streets of Ludendorff, his heart felt as if it were trying to leap out of his chest. A part of him knew this moment would come, and he dreaded it. Or perhaps, he anticipated it. Was he here because he really thought he could stop Trevor? Or did he want to see him find out? Maybe a part of him was yearning for this moment.

Michael lowered a window for fresh air to ease the anxiety; it was as cold as he remembered it. The moon illuminated brightly over the fields and streets covered in snow. As he continued to drive, memories of the deal flashed in his mind. His soul ached with regret.

Did he regret what he did? How could he not? But he did what he needed to do to protect himself and his family. There was no other choice. That’s what he kept telling himself. The guilt only managed to set in when Trevor walked back into his life. The man was deranged, an asshole, and would murder without a second thought. Michael was a murderer too, but at least he felt guilty about it.

What’s done is done. It doesn’t matter how guilty I feel about it; it doesn’t change anything.

Michael parked outside the cemetery, and darted towards his own grave. ‘His grave.’ In reality, it was really Brad’s grave. Trevor was already there, digging it out.

Michael held onto hope; the only potential way out of this was to play it cool. “You’re wasting your time.” He spoke to him.

“Oh yeah?” Trevor retorted with fury in his tone. “Is that why you flew all the way down here? Huh? To tell me I’m wasting my time?”

Maybe I can discourage him by pretending I don’t care about it.

“Go ahead. Dig it up. I don’t give a shit.” Michael lied.

“Yeah, that’s what you look like. A guy who doesn’t give a shit.”

Michael waved his hand in dismissal and pretended to start walking away. “Ah, this is ridiculous.”

“How long are you going to keep lying for Mikey, huh? When’s it going to stop?” Trevor pressed.

Michael’s blood ran cold. He turned back to Trevor, listening to him.

“What happens in the dark, comes out in the light.” A wide smile of determination formed on Trevor’s face, as if he knew he was going to find exactly what he was looking for. And he was.

Michael’s heart clenched in dread.

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

“Give it a rest Trevor.” He managed to say calmly. “There’s nothing there!”

Trevor’s shovel clunked against the coffin. “This is it.” He stopped for a breath. “Moment of truth.” Trevor gave Michael one last look in the eyes, as if he were giving him one last chance to finally talk.

Michael shifted his head and shrugged. He shifted to investigate the hole as Trevor did, feeling extreme nausea.

And there it was. “UGGH! As if I didn’t know.” Trevor cried out as he gestured to the corpse. “Brad.”

“Look, we gotta do what we gotta do to survive.” Michael justified. “This thing, it didn’t work out the way it was supposed to.”

“Oh, and how was that?” Trevor’s voice escalated. “With Brad in the can and me in the ground? Or-or-or both of us in the coffin?”

“Brad got shot. You saw it! He didn’t make it. I got shot, I did. That, that’s it!” Michael protested.

Trevor sat himself up out of the ditch he dug. “I think the only thing that didn’t go as planned was me showing up on your doorstep ten years later.” He shifted from squat to full standing. “Mikey.” Pointing at him, “I mourned you.”

Read the rest on AO3:

Buried Inside - KissOfLightning - Grand Theft Auto V [Archive of Our Own]

#post 56 #gta v #Bury the Hatchet #trevor philips #michael de santa #michael townley #GTA Fanfic #GTA fanfiction #gta gifs #trikey #trevor x michael #Michael POV #gof's post #gta textpost

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capuletcunt · 2 months

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Alexa play: I bet on Losing dogs by mitski

#fanfiction #fanfic #gta v #trevor philips

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dark-t1des · 1 year

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The Grapeseed Cleaning Service Chapter 9: Trevor interrogates you and you… react.

#trevor philips #gta v #gta 5 #gtav #trevor phillips x reader #trevor philips x you #trevor philips x oc #gta fanfiction #gta v fanfic

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cutepervert · 9 months

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wanted to share an excerpt of trevor’s pov from the latest chapter of my fic because i enjoyed writing it much more than i thought i would and i think it came out better than i expected it to. a cool experiment i think i will carry on with

I had my suspicions. I could have— maybe should have— killed her the day I spotted her. But I’d learned to enjoy the cat-and-mouse game I’d set up for myself. I really was so fucking bored. I told myself, Ron, Wade, that I’d keep her close to observe her, watch how she moved through the world. Be sure of my convictions, because hadn’t Franklin been the one who told me not to jump the gun on everything? So I didn’t. I watched her like how she had been watching me. How was I supposed to know she’d be as amusing as she was? Am I your sex slave? Jesus Christ. If anything, I’m hers. I let my cock do the talking, make all the decisions, set all my boundaries. For this, and perhaps this alone, I am a stupid man. I theoretically know better. Theoretically.

#gtav fanfiction #gta v fanfiction #gtav fanfic #gta v fanfic #gta fanfiction #gta fanfic #trevor gta #trevor philips fanfiction #original character #trevor philips

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duhbatmann · 3 months

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Hearts of Los Santos

Chapter 1: Restless Souls

Michael's Discontent

Scene 1: Michael is seen lounging by his pool, a look of boredom and dissatisfaction on his face. He's surrounded by all the trappings of his wealthy lifestyle, yet there's a clear sense of emptiness. He has a brief, somewhat cold interaction with his wife, Amanda, which only serves to highlight the growing distance in their relationship.

Scene 2: Seeking some form of excitement, Michael decides to go for a night drive through Los Santos. The neon lights of the city reflect his inner turmoil as he grapples with the realization that money and luxury haven't brought him happiness.

Franklin's Dilemma

Scene 3: Franklin is shown in his house in Vinewood Hills, juggling phone calls from two women he's currently seeing. He's trying to keep his romantic life afloat while simultaneously receiving a call from Lester about a potential job. This scene establishes Franklin's struggle to balance his personal life with his criminal activities.

Scene 4: Franklin meets with one of his romantic interests, a smart and ambitious woman named Elisa. Their date is interrupted by a call from Michael, asking for a meet-up. Franklin's divided attention becomes apparent, foreshadowing the conflicts to come.

Trevor's Unexpected Encounter

Scene 5: Trevor is in his trailer in Sandy Shores, engaging in his usual chaotic behavior. A mysterious stranger, Alex, arrives in town, capturing Trevor’s attention. Alex is unlike anyone Trevor has encountered – calm, enigmatic, and seemingly unfazed by Trevor's wild demeanor.

Scene 6: Trevor and Alex have a bizarre and humorous interaction at the local bar, where Trevor is both intrigued and baffled by Alex's nonchalant attitude towards him. This marks the beginning of an unusual dynamic between them, challenging Trevor's typical approach to relationships.

Converging Paths

Scene 7: The chapter concludes with Michael and Franklin meeting at a high-end bar in downtown Los Santos. Michael shares his feelings of disconnection, while Franklin talks about the complexities of his love life. The scene sets the stage for their intertwined stories and lays the groundwork for the events to come.

This chapter sets up the initial state of each character, providing a base for their individual journeys and the challenges they will face, both in their romantic lives and their intertwined stories within the gritty world of Los Santos.

Chapter 2: Vinewood Nights

Unexpected Reunion

Scene 1: Michael and Franklin are already at the upscale bar in Vinewood, engaging in a somewhat philosophical conversation about life, love, and what they're missing. The ambiance of the bar, with its soft lighting and occasional laughter from other patrons, contrasts with their serious discussion.

Scene 2: Trevor unexpectedly arrives at the bar, initially causing a bit of a stir with his unrefined manners. However, he quickly settles in, intrigued by the conversation and eager to join. His arrival adds a layer of unpredictability to the evening.

Shared Vulnerabilities

Scene 3: As they continue to drink, the trio begins to open up about their romantic frustrations and desires, a rarity given their usual tough exteriors. Michael laments his failing marriage and the lost spark in his life. Franklin discusses the challenges of finding genuine connection amidst his complex love life. Trevor, in his own unique way, expresses confusion and curiosity about his new interest, Alex.

Scene 4: Their conversation reveals a deeper bond between them, beyond their criminal endeavors. They share laughs, advice, and even some gentle ribbing, showing a side of camaraderie that's rarely seen.

Reflections and Realizations

Scene 5: As the night progresses, each character begins to reflect on their own situation. Michael realizes he needs to find a way to rekindle passion in his life, Franklin contemplates the kind of relationship he truly wants, and Trevor considers the possibility of exploring something more meaningful with Alex.

Scene 6: The chapter closes with the trio leaving the bar, each deep in thought. The night has provided them with unexpected insights into their own hearts, setting the stage for the decisions they'll make in the chapters to come.

This chapter deepens the characters' development by exploring their vulnerabilities and desires in a setting outside their usual chaotic lives. It's a pivotal moment that sets the tone for their individual journeys and the challenges they'll face as they navigate the complexities of love and relationships in the world of GTA 5.

Chapter 3: Love in the Time of Chaos

Michael's Quest for Romance

Scene 1: Michael, inspired by his conversation with Franklin, decides to reignite the romance in his marriage. He plans a surprise date night for Amanda, attempting to replicate the modern, exciting dates he's heard Franklin describe.

Scene 2: The evening starts off well, but Michael's attempts at being trendy and current feel forced and awkward. Despite this, there are moments of genuine connection, hinting at the possibility of rekindled love.

Franklin's Influence

Scene 3: Franklin, meanwhile, finds himself playing the unlikely role of Michael's love life coach. He gives Michael tips on modern dating and how to bring excitement into a relationship, drawing from his own experiences. Their interactions are filled with humor and a touch of irony.

Scene 4: Franklin also grapples with his own romantic decisions, reflecting on the advice he's giving Michael. This leads him to reconsider what he's truly seeking in a partner and whether his current relationships fulfill that.

Trevor's Unusual Journey

Scene 5: Trevor continues to explore his unexpected interest in Alex. He attempts to show a more thoughtful side, organizing a unique date that's surprisingly considerate, yet still unmistakably Trevor-like in its oddity.

Scene 6: The date with Alex takes a series of bizarre turns, but there's an undeniable chemistry between them. Alex's calm demeanor balances Trevor's erratic nature, and Trevor finds himself genuinely enjoying someone's company in a way he hadn't anticipated.

The Chaos of Love

Scene 7: The chapter concludes with each character reflecting on their romantic endeavors amidst their chaotic lives. Michael feels a glimmer of hope for his marriage, Franklin questions his own relationship choices, and Trevor experiences an unfamiliar sense of connection. The complexities of love in their high-stakes world become increasingly evident.

In this chapter, the characters start to actively explore and challenge their ideas about love and relationships. Their efforts, filled with both humor and heart, reveal new dimensions of their personalities and set the stage for further developments in their individual story arcs.

Chapter 4: Tangled Hearts

Franklin's Risky Romance

Scene 1: Franklin's new romantic interest, Elisa, becomes more involved in his life. However, he soon discovers that she has connections to a rival gang, complicating both his personal and professional worlds.

Scene 2: Franklin is torn between his feelings for Elisa and the potential dangers her connections bring. He finds himself trying to navigate a delicate balance, seeking advice from Michael and even Trevor.

Michael's Misadventures

Scene 3: Michael, in his attempts to bring excitement into his marriage, plans a daring date for Amanda – a heist-themed adventure. However, things go awry when they accidentally entangle with a real criminal operation.

Scene 4: The situation escalates, and Michael must use his skills to extricate them from danger. This unexpected thrill reignites some of the passion in their relationship but also highlights the risks of his double life.

Trevor's Chaotic Love

Scene 5: Trevor's relationship with Alex takes a turn when Alex inadvertently gets involved in one of Trevor's shady deals. The deal goes south, leading to a chaotic series of events.

Scene 6: Amidst the chaos, Trevor and Alex's bond is tested. The experience reveals a new level of trust and understanding between them, but also the complexities of balancing Trevor's unpredictable lifestyle with a relationship.

Converging Complications

Scene 7: The chapter concludes with the three protagonists realizing how their romantic lives are dangerously intertwining with their criminal activities. They meet to discuss the escalating complications, each facing their own dilemmas.

Scene 8: The chapter ends with a sense of foreboding, as they acknowledge that their entangled hearts and criminal lives could lead to serious consequences.

In this chapter, the interplay between love and crime becomes more pronounced, adding layers of complexity to each character's journey. Their struggles to maintain a balance between their romantic aspirations and their criminal endeavors create a web of intrigue and suspense, driving the narrative forward.

Chapter 5: Double Lives

The Job

Scene 1: The chapter opens with the trio planning a high-stakes heist, an operation that requires precise coordination and focus. However, their minds are visibly preoccupied with their romantic concerns.

Scene 2: As they start executing the heist, it becomes clear that their personal distractions are affecting their performance. Michael is constantly checking his phone, worried about Amanda's recent distant behavior. Franklin is distracted, his thoughts on Elisa and her dangerous connections. Trevor, surprisingly, is the most focused, but even he is occasionally lost in thoughts about Alex.

The Fallout

Scene 3: The heist goes wrong. A minor mistake snowballs into a significant issue, forcing them to abort the mission hastily. They narrowly escape, but not without drawing unwanted attention from law enforcement and rival criminals.

Scene 4: Back at their hideout, tensions rise. Blame is thrown around, with each character's personal life being pointed to as a distraction. The argument reveals the strain their double lives are placing on their relationships with each other.

Reflection and Realization

Scene 5: Following the heated exchange, each character takes time to reflect on their current situation. Michael realizes that his efforts to spice up his marriage may be endangering his family. Franklin contemplates the risks his relationship with Elisa poses to his and his friends' safety. Trevor, despite his usually carefree attitude, begins to worry about the impact of his criminal life on his relationship with Alex.

Scene 6: They reconvene, somewhat calmer, and acknowledge that they need to find a balance between their love lives and their criminal activities. They agree to be more cautious and supportive of each other's personal endeavors.

Moving Forward

Scene 7: The chapter concludes with a renewed sense of camaraderie and a collective decision to be more vigilant. However, the complications in their personal lives are far from resolved, leaving a sense of uncertainty about how they will manage their double lives moving forward.

In this chapter, the tension between their romantic relationships and their life of crime reaches a tipping point, forcing the characters to confront the realities of their dual existences. This realization brings a new depth to their relationships and sets the stage for future challenges and developments.

Chapter 6: High Stakes

The Grand Plan

Scene 1: The chapter opens with the trio planning their most ambitious heist yet, targeting a heavily guarded casino. The job promises a huge payoff, but it also requires impeccable coordination and focus.

Scene 2: Each character brings their unique skills to the planning phase, but the tension from their personal lives is palpable. They make a pact to put aside their romantic distractions for the sake of the job.

Romantic Complications

Scene 3: As the heist approaches, their love lives intrude unexpectedly. Amanda becomes suspicious of Michael's secretive behavior. Elisa's connections with the rival gang threaten to leak information about the heist. Alex, increasingly worried about Trevor's safety, pleads with him to reconsider his criminal lifestyle.

Scene 4: The trio meets to discuss these complications. They realize that their relationships could jeopardize the job, but they're too deep into the plan to back out now.

The Heist

Scene 5: The heist begins with high tension. Each member of the trio is acutely aware of what's at stake, both professionally and personally.

Scene 6: Despite their best efforts to stay focused, elements of their personal lives start to interfere. Unexpected calls and messages create distractions, and decisions are second-guessed.

Tested Loyalties

Scene 7: In the midst of the heist, a critical moment arrives where their loyalties are tested. A choice must be made that could either secure their fortune or prioritize their personal relationships.

Scene 8: Each character makes a decision that reflects their current priorities, leading to a tense and dramatic climax. The outcome of the heist is left uncertain as they each deal with the consequences of their choices.

Reflection and Consequences

Scene 9: The chapter closes with the trio reflecting on the events of the heist. They consider the impact of their decisions and how their romantic entanglements have shaped their paths. The true cost of their double lives becomes clear, setting the stage for future challenges and resolutions.

In this chapter, the intertwining of the trio's personal and professional lives reaches a critical point, forcing them to confront the reality of their choices and the complexities of balancing love and crime. The high-stakes nature of the heist combined with the drama of their romantic entanglements creates a gripping narrative that propels the story forward.

Chapter 7: New Beginnings

Michael's Resolution

Scene 1: Michael comes to terms with the state of his marriage. He has an honest conversation with Amanda, where they both acknowledge their mistakes and the distance that has grown between them.

Scene 2: They decide to give their relationship another chance, focusing on genuine connection rather than extravagant gestures. The scene ends with them planning a simple but meaningful date, symbolizing a fresh start.

Franklin's Decision

Scene 3: Franklin faces a tough decision regarding his relationship with Elisa. The risks her connections bring are too great to ignore.

Scene 4: He ultimately chooses to end the relationship but does so amicably, understanding that their worlds are too different. The experience leaves him wiser and more aware of what he truly seeks in a partner.

Trevor's Unconventional Path

Scene 5: Trevor's relationship with Alex reaches a turning point. Alex confronts Trevor about the dangers of his lifestyle and his unpredictable nature.

Scene 6: In a surprising twist, Trevor shows willingness to make changes for the sake of the relationship. They agree to continue their unconventional romance, but with Trevor making an effort to involve less chaos in his life.

Reflection and Looking Forward

Scene 7: The trio meets one last time, in their usual hangout spot. They reflect on the events that unfolded, the decisions they made, and how they've grown through their experiences.

Scene 8: Each character shares their plans for the future, showing a mix of hope and uncertainty. They acknowledge that their lives will always be a blend of love, crime, and complex choices.

Scene 9: The chapter, and the story, concludes with them toasting to new beginnings. They leave the scene separately, each walking into their future, which is filled with new possibilities and challenges.

In this final chapter, the story wraps up with each character finding a resolution in their love lives, marking a new chapter in their personal journeys. Their final meeting is a poignant moment of camaraderie and reflection, bringing a sense of closure while also leaving the door open for future adventures.

#100 days of productivity #fanfic #gta 5 #gta v #video games #blog #/rambling #los santos #low poly

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rreskk · 2 months

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ASLEEP

Summary: Trevor has a habit of acting upon his urges. You woke the moment before he could, and you made him deal with the mess himself.

TW: Smut

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 1489

Trevor dragged his legs across the wooden porch and opened the door with his prominent hips, eyes immediately searching for you in this needy, horrifically restless state. His heartbeats were rapid and he was experiencing a haze of sobriety for the first time in a while. It was taking a toll on him, explaining the random bursts of deprivation where the meth would “cure” it.

He grumbled when you were absent from the main room until he peeked his head through the bedroom doorway, seeing you sprawled out on his bed, asleep. He promised to be back hours early so he couldn’t blame you for sleeping, yet he was crossed. His brows furrowed and he dragged his heavy legs towards the bed. You were sleeping so effortlessly. It made him think you weren’t excited for his return despite spending time together the morning prior. Spending time, he really meant arguing but he refused to see the fault being him.

“Hey.” He murmured into your ear, gaining no verbal response. Instead, you snuggled further into his mangled sheets and breathed out with ease. Your face, light and peaceful, without his comfort.

Trevor placed a finger and outlined your shoulder, caressing the barely exposed skin but calming down at the physical touch. Unconscious or not, he really needed to be praised with your attention. Even if he doesn’t deserve it.

“Hey.” He repeated and properly loomed over you. His frame shadowed and blocked out the light from his lamp, hiding the small details on your face, making the warmness turn cold. And you remained dead.

This was not aiding his pining aches. Trevor fantasised about you rushing to his side with the click of his fingers, like a nurturing maid; a motherless mother, an emotionally-available whore, a bitchcraft witch to cast spells upon the desires he wants. Yet, right now, you were doing nothing.

“C’mon…” He tugged onto your shirt like a little boy, “I’m back. Wake up.”

Still, the trailer was silent and deadly. He was alone with his thoughts again.

Trevor whined softly before greeting his impulses – a habit he does when vulnerable – throwing off the sheets that covered your static body, displaying the lazy clothes that clung sheepishly around your curves and limbs. You were too much of a heavy sleeper to recognise a hand following your backside, giving you a small squeeze, fondling around your hips, worshipping your stomach through the thin T-shirt.

“Sugar, angel,” Trevor addressed while lining his lips against your jaw, “I really want you right now. Wake up for me, I need you.”

He hoped you’d at least hear him through your sleep, just enough convincing to tear you from that slumber, but his impatience was running low and he couldn’t stop himself. Like a pathetic dog, so lost without his owner. So lost that he crawled over your body and gently positioned your knee upwards. If you weren’t going to wake up, he’s just going to use what he can get. Even if that was the most bare minimum pleasure.

His hands toyed around with his waistline and slowly edged it down and around his thighs. Then he hovered over your knee, his bulge safe behind the tight whites, holding back the source of his desires where it itched and ached. Trevor was so hard, grunting when he swiftly pressed his crotch against your knee, moving his hips in circles, grinding towards the bone, getting the real feel before deciding it was too little for his preference. Your knee, though bony, had no warmth or skin to provide a replicate of your sex.

With his mental humor cutting short, his fingers intertwined with yours and waited for a minute to ensure you were not faking the rest. Trevor’s eyes drifted to your goddess of a face, finding himself smiling at how lucky he was to have lured such a beauty. Although you may have fell asleep to avoid the bitterness of the fight, you still looked like a blooming flower, a diamond in the rough. He fell forward and praised your neck with kisses, his crotch unconsciously falling into your knee again, hitting the right spot where he gasped into your skin.

“Oh, fuck.” It slipped out from his tongue, hurting so good.

The bone struct the burning heat and he grinded into it repeatedly, treating you like a free palace to roam.

Trevor whined into your ear as he hump dried your knee intensely. He was so self-indulged that he was apathetic at your awakening. His eyes fell onto your open ones and he could only moan out your name in greeting.

You struggled to process what he was doing until he pulled up the rugged T-shirt where your breasts fell into his palms, perfectly fitting as he groped, played, squished, pinched the size. The rough pressure made you groan softly. Allowing him to captivate your breasts.

“Mmm…” He communicated through small phases of moaning.

“Are you close?” You whispered, treating him like a low-life subhuman.

Trevor was not afraid of eye-content and nodded proudly. His white briefs were heavy with arousal and you could feel the damp pre-cum from the fabric grind into your knee. It left wetness smear across the skin. Hot smear.

“That’s right,” You smirked, “C’mon. You can do better. Can’t you?”

“Mhm…” He winced.

“Let me help.” Thinking you were going to portray the fantasy he’s been dreaming of, harsh reality betrayed the expectation that buried his mind. Trevor threw his head back and cried with pain and pleasure, feeling you kick him with the knee, the brutality behind your actions making him shrivel up on bed beside you, cowering his crotch for protection and comfort.

“Fuck, fuck!” Trevor said through gritted teeth and closed eyes.

“That’s what you get for waking me up.” You scoffed and proceeded to grab the bulge for yourself. It sat in the palm of your head, soaked and used. You gripped and recognised the shape of his boner twitching. It shrivelled into your hand, like a deer in headlights.

His whole body went into shock when you gave him the abuse. Trevor wobbled out your name with his quivered lips, hoping you’d take mercy on him.

“Ohh, poor baby… You just want to cum. You wanna use me without my consent?” You continued to mock.

“M’no. No. No – “

“Do you know what happens to dirty animals like you?”

“Mommy, I’m sorry.” Trevor urged.

“Oh, so now you call me mommy. You think treating your mommy like that is nice?”

“I’m sorry!” He cradled your hand that held his crotch tightly, thumb caressing yours.

“Mommy’s not going to help you, Trev. You gotta make yourself cum, yeah?” You murmured.

His face fell at this proposal and he shook frantically, “No. C’mon, no. That’s not fair.”

“You need me?”

“I really need you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Where were the calls or messages?” You challenged.

“I – “

“You don’t deserve to be helped. Mommy will watch you instead. I’ll make sure you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

“Ohhh…” It seems as though Trevor accepted his fate.

When you released his crotch from your white-knuckled fist, he immediately went to work in front of you, his briefs torn from his hips and exposing that ugly mess of a cock. He was already in the middle of an orgasm when inserting freedom, sloppily jerking himself off in front of your eyes.

His Adams-apple trembled in his throat and he glanced to the ceiling, cum draping them sore hands that were sweating with arousal and emotional stress. At this point, he forgot you existed and focussed on relieving himself.

“Fuck, fuck… God!” Trevor’s waist fell into spasms when another orgasm was quickly approaching.

You were amazed to watch him experience so much at once. You knew of his short activity rate, but now you were seeing it when it comes to masturbation.

“Ah, fuck… I’m gonna fuckin’ cum again – “ He said, looking directly at you, “Watch me, mommy. Watch me.”

“I’m watching baby.” You reassured with a smirk, head resting against the bed railing.

This was the push he needed. Trevor arched his back and came again. However, this time, it was strong. His cock twitched dramatically as he oozed cum, dampening the sheets underneath but also his thighs. His skin being dressed by this warm and white sensation.

“Ohhhh!” You heard him moan loudly and through the night.

His body fell back and he exhaled with defeat. You stayed silent while he maintained the usual composure but it never returned.

Trevor only whined for you again, calling you “mommy” and shuffling close to your body as if you were attached like glue. It was weird yet you enjoyed the submissive nature when he grew needy. Always when he was sober.

“Good boy.” You whispered and kissed behind his ear.

The man shuddered but said nothing, only embracing your body.

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