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je5hko · 7 months

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Mama's boy

Summary: How the tables have turned. Trevor learnt his lesson from having attitude.

TW: -Smut -Usage of drugs

Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 2976

“ – Your mouttthhh, so hot… Your web; I’m caught. Your skin? So wet. Black lace – “ Sung Trevor who drifted out of his bedroom, shirtless and holding a cigarette bud close to his lips. He stomped over and slapped your thigh, gesturing you to move over so he could take a seat on the sofa as well.

The song “poison” by Alice Cooper continued to be lowly hummed as you recognised the melody. He manspreaded and gave you little to no space, your annoyance going unnoticed since the cig was the only thing he seemed to be focussing on. Trevor was cross-eyed as he’d stare down at the smoke fuming. You watched him attempt some tricks, but of course, it resulted in him growing impatient and burning the bud against the tiled floor. He then wiped his face with irritation before giving him a small pout.

“I’m bored.”

“You’ll find something.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t right now.” He mumbled back, displeased with your remark. You felt his eyes burning Hell into the side of your head. Without any recommendation of ideas that would entertain him, you gave him an innocent shrug.

“You could always watch TV with me.”

Trevor gazed towards the TV with subtle curiosity, “What’s on?”

The channel was nothing special – by all means, it was broadcasting the latest cartoon that was inspired by celebrity drama. You weren’t interested but it was somewhat entertaining. The occasional comedy sketches made your belly chuckle, and when it did, you’d look over at Trevor to see him utterly disgusted. He scoffed a little bit and ruffled through his pockets to seek out – what you’d predict to be – another lighter. You could only imagine he was planning on getting high to defuse the boredom.

“It is a good show.” You tried to explain.

Trevor held a pipe and gave you a laugh, “No chance.” Then he began warming the glass with his lighter, the meth bubbling, making you feel uneasy.

His body relaxed when the substance spiralled into his system via oral consumption. He closed his eyes, feeling the buzz. You watched closely and when he went to breathe in another hit, you grasped his wrist tightly.

The grab caused Trevor to eruptively sit up. He looked between you and the hand with a confused grin. A few tugs wouldn’t fix it, and he was soon yanking around his arm to break your hold, but you weren’t budging. Nonetheless, the hand grew tighter – ensuring some bruises.

“The fuck?” He croaked out in confusion, holding the pipe in his other hand.

You remained speechless as to opposing a daring hand around his gruffy wrist. Although his tugs would send your body forwards and backwards, it seems as though he’s mistaken this as some roughhousing, chuckling lively at your challenging stare. He proceeded to misunderstand your irritation with playing until he was caught off-guard when you snatched his other wrist – restricting both mobility of his hands. And the pipe fell onto the floor.

Trevor’s gaze followed it and he wasn’t okay. He grunted, his fists clenching.

“[y/n], let go. My pipe.” He protested.

“Stop smoking that shit around me.” You finally vocalised.

His mouth twitched into a grumpy scowl. His face screamed his refusal, so your grip tightened.

“Let go – it ain’t funny anymore.”

“It never was.”

“[y/n].” Trevor warned.

“Just stop it, okay?”

“Let go of my fuckin’ wrists.”

“You are just gonna pick that pipe up and smoke it again.”

He laughed, “Talk about lack of faith.”

“Can you blame me?” Your words had struct him a bit, “I came over to spend time with you, not that thing you turn into when you smoke that crap.”

“That thing? Quit the shit-talk, [y/n]. I ain’t in the mood.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Don’t be short with me.”

“Pardon?” You encouraged his temper with a smile.

“I said – “ Trevor paused before his face coiled into a cheeky smirk, “Oh… You’re good. You ain’t fooling me, sugar. How ‘bout you quit clowning around and let go of my wrist?” His face playful yet his tone serious.

You slyly kicked the pipe further away and freed his hands. He immediately went to reach for the drug – but you came prepared – snatching his wrists again, earning yourself an angry man who was trying to squirm out of your entrapment.

“Fucks sake!”

His inability to learn had gave you a light bulb moment. If he wasn’t gashing at your hands, he’d notice the way your eyes enlightened with madness – but instead, he carried on causing a scene. Which was an unfortunate decision since you were beginning to enjoy this tantrum. It made him look pathetic, easy, addicted.

“[y/n]! Fuckin’ let me go! Fuck!”

Holding a grudge, despite the countless threats, it resulted in you practically spawning him down against the sofa. Trevor was trapped underneath as you’d pin his hands above his head, your body weight trapping mobility to his legs as well. He was purely outraged – daggers in his eyes. His energy fell and his yells turned into muffled cries and grunts. Thanks to his stamina, Trevor could only pant to express the pure anger. He’d pant out your name and attempt to detain the partial conviction of his hands.

“Lemme go, for Gods sake. I hear you, I hear you! Just cut the crap, Christ…” Now he had realised this wasn’t rough-housing. He defeatedly relaxed his body and just stared at you above, sweat slowly dripping down his forehead from the fighting and withdrawal of the pipe.

You hadn’t of said anything in this 20 minutes of pinning him down, and it was beginning to rile him up again. Trevor’s jaw clenched and he fiercely tugged on his legs, trying to lift you up with just his hips (as is it happened before), it didn’t exactly work due to his weakened, worn-out frame.

“Fuckin’ speak, [y/n]. You know I hate the silent treatment.” He urged.

“I know you do.”

He scoffed at your ignorant acknowledgement, “You enjoy fucking with me, babe? ‘Cause I don’t. Now do me a favo – “

“No, I don’t think I will.” You’d cheekily smile, holding his hands up higher that it outstretched his chest, causing him to muffle out sweet groans.

“[y/n]…” He had closed his eyes to avoid giving you the pleasures of seeing him riled up. However, his face says it all. The way you only pinned him down more, the gradual exposure of his arousal would become more and more obvious; flushed face, whiney voice, growing urge in his pants. He couldn’t hide that one.

“This was the only way to shut you up.”

Trevor pouted, “Surely not – “

“You know it.”

“But – “

“Don’t lie.” You continued to cut him off with a smirk, forcing him into this vulnerable state where he was getting more vocal with this new tension. Whenever you dominated the conversation, he’d relentlessly whinge and squirm (but in a sensual way).

“I’ve been bad,” He had finally admitted, “I’m a fuckin’… I’m a…”

“Go on.” You egged him.

“I’m a fuckin’ brat. Piece of shit, I deserve to be beaten – “

“Like a?”

“Like a naughty boy.” He whimpered.

“You wanna learn your lesson, baby?”

“Mmm – fuck, maybe I do. Fuck… Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” You whispered in his ear.

His body trembled when your breath managed to tickle the side of his face. Trevor released a strained whine as he nodded his head frantically, an erection lurking just in front of your lap, occasionally touching your thigh.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Beat me, hit me, shit! – Fuckin’ make me cry, ma!”

“Aren’t you precious?” You forced him to look up, “It wasn’t worth the trouble, hm? What do you have to say to me?”

“I’m sorry, ma…” Trevor lowly grumbled from the depths of his chest.

“That’s my boy. Keep your arms up for me, baby. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.” You let your hands fall as they fell to his face. Trevor tried his best not to abuse the sudden freedom, his arms jerking but he had the authority to restrain himself (for a while). Nonetheless, he was too distracted by the way you’d caress his cheeks and inspect his neck. He was getting used to this love before a hand striked his left cheek, a bellowing cry leaving his cracked lips.

“Fuck!” And it stung horrifically. His skin throbbed at the impact of your hand. Trevor wanted to question you, but after you had slapped him another time, the more he was beginning to praise your palm. The more he began to plead. The more he began to enjoy the burning pain it caused.

Then soon you were beating the living Hell out of his tortured face, throwing punches and slaps until his skin was threatening to bleed black and blue. You’d watch him laugh and moan, squirm and tear up. Trevor disobeyed your commands and lowered his hands, using them as pathetic self-defence to lure you in more. He loved when you broke the barrier between his arms and face, he loved making it a challenge. It brought him more punishment, therefore, more pain and bruises.

“Fuck, fuck… Yeah – “

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” You panted between slaps, “Should of known.”

“I love you so bad, ma… God, keep going, I deserve! Make me bleed, mama!”

Your fist reconnected with his cheek another, a streaming gush of blood seeping from his nose and staining his naked chest. You stopped for a minute but Trevor grabbed your wrists, giving you a begging face.

“Don’t stop, mommy.” He whimpered – extremely submissively.

You looked conflicted when seeing how much blood poured from his battered nose. It caked his mouth and neck, and when he spoke, it stained his teeth as well. Some spats would find themselves covering your hands and arms as well.

“Don’t stop.” He repeated.

In a matter of seconds, you sighed and raised your fist again. Trevor squeezed his eyes closed in preparation before you sent another punch to his cheek. He moaned, his head falling back against he sofa as he lifted his arms up again, sitting them above his head like you ordered him to before. You longingly leaned forward and pressed kisses against the skin you abused, ignoring how his blood would cover your lips.

Trevor tried to meet with you, his own lips desperate to feel yours. So you gave him the chance and you both grabbed each other’s heads, deepening the kiss with such hunger and aggression. He sat up from the sofa and crawled onto your lap, your arms holding him like a big baby. Trevor wrapped his arms around your shoulder as you were both mangled in this red, hot liquid. So much so that his hair was mattered, but it gave him this ugly charm.

“I love you –“ He murmured between hot kisses.

You both departed to gain some air as he’d lean in again but you held a hand to his chest, keeping some distance. Trevor gave you a panicked expression, his neediness overcoming the temptation. He tried to kiss you again and missed. He tried to kiss your neck, but was held back. He’d whine and bury his face in your chest, removing any original colouring of your shirt to be replaced with his messy blood.

So you stroked his hair and allowed him to mumble inaudible words into your temple. You made out sentences like “I need you” and “I wanna feel you, mama”, the usual pleads to get what he wants – the typical “mommy boy” manipulation.

“Trevor.” You recollected his attention and adjusted his body on your lap, your chests smothering each other.

“I wanna feel you, [y/n].”

“I know.”

“I wanna see you, real bad.”

“I know, baby.”

He groaned and pressed his forehead against yours, “I wanna see you.”

“Why should I let you?” You chuckled, your fingers massaging his sweaty scalp.

“Stop playing with me, ma… I really want you, so bad.”

“I’m not playing with you.”

“M’no, you are – “

“Trevor, baby,” You kissed his cheek, “I’m not playing with you. Sometimes you have to earn it. I’m not going to give everything to a naughty boy, hm?”

“But – “

“Do you understand?”

He refused to say anything as he licked his lips and stared down at your chest, ogling whatever he could find from under your shirt. This behaviour itself was affirming prejudice and you groped his ass, throwing him aside where he limped onto the sofa with a groan. You stood up before he eruptively lashed onto your legs, his hands begging for mercy upon your thighs.

“Babe!” Trevor cried out.

“Always begging, aren’t you?” You belittled when staring down at him on all fours.

“Please…”

His hair was being tugged brutally, small whimpers escaping, yet he maintained a serious face with glassy eyes. You forced him to his knees where he looked up with admiration. His eyes darted to your crotch area as you slowly undressed, revealing your wet pussy that had been enjoying Trevor’s submission from the course of the night.

He chewed his bottom lip and went to reach forward, but you snatched both of his hands and pinned them directly behind his headd. You kept your grip there, enforcing little to no chance he’d free himself.

“Take a good look, Trevor,” You opened your legs up as he was facing the glory, “You keep your hands behind your head while you eat my pussy good, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

Trevor’s lips quivered, leaning forward until he was breathing against your cunt. His knees were still dug into the floor, hands shaking behind his head (by your authority), and his tongue slowly extended to greet the utter wetness. He moaned when tasting you. A little tease turned into full desire as he dived into your sex and feasted upon your clit.

Justice was served to his own arousal since the define stench of your cunt on his tongue was enough to cause staggering pleasures in his own cock. You forced his head closer so he was merely suffocated, the muffling of his mouth feeding your sex the lust and neediness he portrayed from all that time struggling.

“Fuck, yes.” You praised when he was licking you savagely.

It was hard standing there when your legs were shaky with joy. You had used Trevor’s head as stability – whenever you felt a lunge in your legs, you weighted onto his pathetic figure that was praying your pussy. He, being a good boy, kept the promise and held his hands behind his head, even when he wanted to cuddle you during this heat. Trevor would moan, signalling this need of extra attention, but of course, you refused to gift him anymore (which secretly turned him on more and more and more).

“I’m gonna – “ He breathed against your cunt, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Aw… You’re such a cumslut, baby. I didn’t even have to touch you.”

“Please…”

“Such an easy little shit, aren’t you?”

Trevor panted, his tongue becoming sloppy. He enjoyed being undermined as it made him tremble.

“Let yourself cum, baby. Don’t slack.” You ordered when noticing his tiredness.

“It hurts – “

“C’mon…”

“I wanna touch myself – “

“Shhh. It’s okay. C’mon, I know you love it; not being able to touch yourself. It feels good, Trev? I bet it does…”

He gained the motivation and took you into his mouth again, pestering a spot in which he began to thoroughly ignite. You gasped out a heavy moan, begging him to go faster as his tongue began working hard-labour to trigger a climax.

All while he experiences his own.

Trevor cruelly groaned when his cock squirted out semen from the overstimulation you had caused him. It evolved when his blood began to dry out on his skin, your pussy drenched on his tongue, your hands restraining his own, your dirty words – it blew him up, and he came. He came hard.

“Fuuuuuck!” Trevor murmured from inside your cunt.

You didn’t give him a moment to process the orgasm. You evilly pushed him further into you – mockingly.

“That’s right…” You’d whisper and examine the way his hands would shake as you hold them tightly against his damp hair.

“I love you, fuck – “

“Keep going.”

He slurped before it was clear that you were finishing soon. He grasped a safe momentum and eagerly slashed your pussy, his mouth inhaling every pleasure you felt until your legs were weak. Trevor finally sucked, and this was where you threw your head back and gasped.

“FUCK!”

Cum dripped onto his face, replacing the blood. Trevor smirked and invited your fluids into his mouth as you continued to orgasm swimmingly. He licked every last drop like a reward and leaned away to see you. There was a proud glimpse in his eye, cum running down his face, making him look ruined.

“You tasted to good, ma.” He whispered from his knees and begged to hear you again.

“Shit… Baby…”

“I love you. I love your taste, I love your voice, I want to marry you – “

“Trevor, shhh…” You pressed a finger to his lips, recovering from the intense orgasm, “Fuck.”

“Thank you for coming on my face.” He desperately tried to resist your attempt to silence him.

So with that, you rolled your eyes and embraced him into your arms. Trevor nuzzled his face into your neck and repeatedly asked for more cuddles as he’s “tired” from all the begging and fighting. He dragged you to the bedroom and lied on top of you like a kid. He rested his chin on your stomach and smiled cheekily.

“I like when you hit me – “

“I thought you were tired, baby?”

“Nuh uh… I just wanna hold you…”

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