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rreskk · 4 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
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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.
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titobitex · 3 months
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1 MORE DAY UNTIL SANTA
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trevorspickuptruck · 9 months
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“Trevor isn’t gay.”
Also Trevor;
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jackie-elysium · 4 months
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GTA VI - One day to go...
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In the meantime, playing GTA V...
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erwinsmile · 9 months
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molly probably pegs devin weston
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amelia00000 · 1 month
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Alleged Grand Theft Auto Suspects in Custody!
Grand Theft Auto, the unlawful taking of motor vehicles, poses a significant threat to public safety and property. This section explores the increasing prevalence of GTA cases, shedding light on the impact of these crimes on communities and the urgency they create for law enforcement agencies. Read More...
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lazyajju · 4 months
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Officially first trailer of next GTA Game coming on Dec 5, 2023 9AM ET Finally wait is over😍🥹
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nastywinn3r · 1 month
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🫶 Happy Valentine's Day!
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defisquiz · 2 months
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Hey GTA Community!
We've got something special for you on defisquiz.com. 🎉 It's a GTA quiz, designed to test your knowledge on everything from Vice City to Los Santos!
Think you can ace it? Join us and share your score!
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bobastudios · 6 months
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Don't let this opportunity be ❗️WASTED❗️
Pledge now, and bring these plushies back!
kickstarter
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rreskk · 4 months
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MIDWEST DESIRES
Summary: A desire. All it took was the desire to spiral out of control. You didn’t want to ignore the past argument but he had persuaded you with pure confidence. That man was the death of you and he left you breathless.
TW: Smut.
Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips
Word count: 2496
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Daring to touch, he stood motionless in front of you, shoulders just about fitting the doorway of your humble home. Them puffy sleeves from the winter coat he was wearing thickened the width of his shoulders, hence the slight mishap of size. Yet the winter coat warmed him up greatly, his cheeks turning a bushed red and his nose sniffling with the after effects of seizing the cold North Yankton snow outside. The blizzard was only an open doors away, and you could already feel the radiation from his shivering frame. The front door – that was open in retaliation of his presence – interrogated the warmth of your home.
“Trevor.” You addressed as the last time you had said his name, it wasn’t in a wanting manner. Not at all. You felt the urge to close the door since you were developing the shivers as well, and you were dressed in clothes for bedtime. It was selfish of him to keep the door open with his wide figure and snarky face that didn’t exactly express the delightfulness of you answering his knocks in the first place. Bitter, you thought, but you couldn’t shut him out. He had no other home. Nothing.
“Mph…” He’d huff and refuse to acknowledge the changing temperatures of your house. His mullet was hidden, shying away in this ushanka that covered his ears as well, only leaving the crest of his face and shifty, all-knowing eyes, the moustache sitting over his top lip that you couldn’t see it shiver at the cold. His breath even struggled to straighten it’s posture when speaking after the shortened grunt. “Don’t say my name like that.”
The irony of not wanting to be named was almost alien to his personality as everything resulting to this argument would be the product of his attention-seeking tongue. So your interest was instantly aroused. There was lack of corresponsive evidence to believe it.
“Why?” You questioned, moving aside and gently tugging the door closed. The freezing bite of the weather evaporated within that second.  
Trevor hung his head low and ignored your question. He took the signal of the door closing and misunderstood it for a “I’m making myself at home” note, claiming the sofa as his own, his scrawny, long limbs hogging the two seats. There wasn’t even a space for you. But it wasn’t like you wanted to sit next to him. The grudge remained; the distance thickening as he’d spitefully avoid the need to communicate.
It placed you in a position of risking another fight, or letting him toy you around with his unpredictable mannerism. Neither you wanted to happen. The last thing you wanted was his dirty, scandal-grasping fingers touching any surface of your house while he’s sitting in the spotlight of the local FEDs. Knowing someone has probably died in his arms through the last 24 hours would always stain your mind, yet it didn’t repel you from him.
He threw off his ushanka and ruffled up the messy locks that were thinning and lessening. Even his hair looked unbothered about the situation your relationship was it. This is when you decided to stand up for yourself and walked over to the sofa, standing before him, his eyes inspecting you with judgement and annoyance.
“What?” Trevor grumbled lowly, his voice rumbling deep from his chest.
Pretending it didn’t give you butterflies, you tried to remain monotonal. “This wasn’t an invite for you to stay.” However, it came off like you were struggling to maintain a stern tone. It wobbled a bit.
“You closed the door.” He scoffed when rolling his neck and staring at your chest area with confliction and pervasion.
“To keep the heat in.”
“Sure.” Sarcasm dripping from his abrasive mouth.
“Why’d you come?” For once, you wanted a truer word from him, not just some smart-ass remark that’s not really smart. It would just be irritating and dimly witted.
His eyes searched your face and his shoulders shrugged in response. His coat would even rustle from his forced movement, the silence disturbed and your will-power to embrace disapproval collapsed. It made you tick, itch, clench your jaw, the slightest sounds from his stupid, green coa –
“The fuck you glaring at?” Trevor murmured, “I wasn’t the one starting the argument. On my behalf, I was the peacemaker.”
This made you laugh, stomach clenching and your posture bending as you’d hold your knees for stability. The seriousness of his defence made it worse. He has to be joking, you thought. There was no way he was playing the peacemaker when he spiralled the debate into an argument and refused to solve it as he’d disappear for 3 days straight, leaving you with the suspense of believing your relationship had ended. 
“Yeah, because that’s the truth.” You mocked, not laughing anymore.
“Are you calling me a liar?” He eruptively stood up from the sofa – livid. You were stunned when he stood less than an arms-length away, finding your little mockery offensive and disrespectful. “Don’t be a fucking prude, eh? Don’t you wanna make-up? Don’t you wanna have dear ol’ Trevy back? Or have you never loved me.”
“Oh, I’ve loved you. Still do. And it gives me a migraine.” You whispered.
“A migraine I can cure, baby. You know how it is…” His softness was inviting but you knew this was just a manipulation tactic to avoid the blame. He took notice of your sudden shyness the moment he stood up, and he abused it. That dickhead.
“I don’t think you can cure it this time.”
“How so?” Trevor tickled and placed a bare hand, so cold and cruel, around your waist. You could feel it through the fabrics of your shirt. Like you’d imagine, he grazed the surface of your neck with his shivering lips that were dry as desert. It felt like prickles whenever he spoke against you. “Don’t stay mad forever, sugar.”
Future corpse: death by Trevor and his charismatic density. Even if you tried to fight back, your body language denied access. You fell into him, his arms – without hesitation – suffocating you and his lips immediately trailed up your sweet neck with his sweet kisses.  
His hungry mouth fell over your throat and jawline, mercilessly slandering the acres of your skin like there was no sign of life in you. You had to clench the back of his jacket for stability as he was diving in – big time. If you lessened your grip, you’d both fall backwards and into the coffee table. Praise be, you weren’t going to let anything disrupt this process of “making-up”, or whatever he referred it. Make-up, make-out; his moto, most likely? Who knows. He doesn’t do communication despite blaming the lack of understanding on you.
But ignoring the present problems as you were too busy growing eager for the heat.
Trevor reached your lips and was stealing words, thoughts, your breath. His kisses were intense to the point of panting, your lungs struggling to sway around the oxygen he’s threatening to take. You both were heavily breathing, the blood rushing over to your head, the room becoming increasingly hot. God knows how he’s coping in that coat. While he selfishly abused your lips with his own, your hands grasped the zip and tugged it down. Trevor grunted lowly when it was thrown off his shoulders and onto the floor. The chills crawled down his spine when the air touched his naked arms. You felt him shiver, the closeness between you both becoming inseparable.
“I can’t fucking wait anymore,” He whined and clenched your wrist, “Lemme see you, ay? Take it off…” You made eye-contact and he pressed his forehead against yours, grinning. “Take it all off.”
The thought of facing the chilly temperatures with only his body temperature aroused you beyond belief. And it wasn’t like you had a choice. Before you could answer, Trevor had plunged the back of your shirt, disregarding it by tossing it over your head, the forceable nature causing the material to rip a bit as you’d hear a small stretch. The cold punched you in the stomach and your arms crawled with the need of comfort. As you rubbed yourself for warmth, he threw off his own shirt and wasted no time, pulling you back into the proximity, his touchy fingers groping the cups of your bra, smirking and giggling at the feeling of your clothed breasts.
Trevor toyed you around for a few minutes. The bra stayed on but he pulled one of the cups down as your breast would hang out and into his sight. He made it bounce, squishing it, caressing it, worshipping it. You had to stand there with a throbbing throat, becoming ugly for him. Nonetheless, you were left red and puffy. He had poked for too long that you breast had marks of his hands outlining around the nipples. Such pride, he groaned kiddingly, biting down his bottom lip.
And your neck. Fuck. His moustache left rashes all over your jaw and neck. Even your mouth. Just like your chest area, you were becoming red all over. The kind touch of Mr Philips was as guilty as any murderer.
“Mhm.” You winced at the itchiness of the perceived rashes. It was silenced when Trevor returned his attention onto you and them hands harshly gripped your backside, edging you closer to the wall behind where he turned you around in a ridiculous speed. Swearing you were experiencing whiplash, it wasn’t know. Not like you could say anyway. He pushed you against the wall with your breasts being pressed and your hips being pushed against him. You felt a trembling hardness fight against your ass, making you murmur his name as pleas.
“I need you,” He said, “I’m gonna have you – “ He ruffled his belt and hissed with frustration when his jeans struggling to lower. You were forced against the wall anyways, not being able to help but hearing him groan so sensually.
“Just fuck me!” You protested to rile him up. There wasn’t anything like an angry Trevor treating you like a little to no person. It was hot, sexy, a desire.
Something zipped and then your arms were pinned against your back, your face planting the wall. The roughness you wanted; you got.
“I’ll fuck you so good.” Smirked Trevor, ripping off your trousers that dangled around your ankles. He gently felt around your naked backside before pushing you against his erection that sat to bully your pussy. It wasn’t in, but it was there, warming you both up. The fact it was there was winding you up. So bad, you wanted it, so bad.
“C’mon.” You pled and grinded against him.
A sigh of pleasure escaped his throat when you took control. He held onto your waist and watched the way your ass moved against him. The wonders came wondering and you gasped in surprise when he removed himself before digging into your pussy, fucking the Hell out of you.
Trevor rocked you back and forth as he thrusting in and out. You both groaned and made sexual noises at the matched efforts to feel each other’s skin and friction.
“Atta girl…” He panted, “Jesus, argh!”
You took him in, wetness seeping and drooling. Trevor used a hand and grabbed the back of your neck, making sure he was keeping you in your place with your face, all scrunched up with pleasure, against the wall. A little power-play made it better. While you were sizing him up from your aggressive rocking hips, he maintained that place and kept you working while he groaned.
“Fuck, fuck!”
“I love your voice, sugar.” He murmured, the sound of slapping making it harder to hear him.
Now the room was the opposite of cold. It was fucking boiling. You kept your arms invisibly tied to your back during this but it itched to wipe the sweat from your brow. The overstimulating yell storming around your lower stomach. It was approaching, all that bottled up annoyance dissolving into a waiting release.
“I fucking missed you. Couldn’t stay away, angel. Just wanted to feel you.” Trevor whined when fastening the pace. He was due to get emotional when having sex with you. Always has, since the first-time. It was sweetening. It comforted you despite being hammered sloppily. It made you want to forgive him for every ungodly thing he has ever done while living.
“More…” You needed more reassurance, “Please. I want more. More. Trevor. More…”
“I fucking want more! Shit. Just gonna fuck you… Forever, damn, baby… I’m gonna fucking cum.” His words were broken in several pauses breathlessly. His hands deepened, now bruising your body. The way he was stammering forwards. There was no more thrusting. He was deep inside, letting himself beat against you.
You moaned against the wall and flattened out your chest, losing control. Unable to produce words, you could only weakly grunt and cry softly. Your pussy throbbed with him inside and he was visibly twitching. The sensation was going to kill you.
“I’m gonna…” He repeated dramatically, “Shit. Shit. Shit!” Then in a haze, like the blizzard happening outside your front door, he came inside you, his hips jerking and legs threatening to fall. Trevor leaned back and sobbed a painful moan as he attempted to move with the orgasm, leaving marks of himself and making you struggle with him.
After he had came, it was no longer an ability to deny your body. Stimulatingly, your core shrieked and it trickled down your thighs, drooling down his cock as well that laid inside you. There were no moans to moan since you were all out. You panted and gagged with your cheek hot from the wall. The orgasm spiralled out of control and you fell back into him, his arms grabbing your waist and his chest hitting your back.
“There she is…” Encouraged his raspy voice.
You whimpered, “Shit… Oh, yeah.”
“How’s that for an apology? Made you feel good, eh? I love my girl, would stay like this forever.”
“I… Accept – “ You took deep breaths, “ – Your apology. Jesus…”
Trevor pecked the back of your ear before swaying you to the sofa where you sunk into the cushions. He massaged your inner thighs as you were based in his lap, nakedly hogging each other’s personal space with the smell of nasty sex filling your living room space.
“More of this,” He pointed to your smile before smirking, “And less of your grumpiness, yeah?”
“Standard practice for you to say.”
“And less of the fucking cheek. I’m just a guy wanting his girl to love him.”
“Poor Trevor.” You teased.
“Love me…” He whined and rested his chin on your shoulder.
“I do love you.”
“What was that?”
“I think you stink.”
“Of your sweet cunt, baby.”
“And dirt.”
Trevor glared but remained quiet, trapping you in his embrace as you both finally recovered from that argument. In a bang, as per usual.
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titobitex · 10 months
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the lack of gtaiv content on pinterest is criminal lets change that
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trevorspickuptruck · 6 months
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I finally, finally posted! I was sort of procrastinating this and trying to motivate myself to post anything on this account. Though I would like to mention that I have recently gotten into Red Dead Redemption (two), but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love GTA any less than I already do :)
Anyways, love you and enjoy to anyone who still follows me <3
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wenzyl · 4 months
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What a time to be alive.
Grand Theft Auto VI first look.
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duchessdorklord · 2 years
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Rough sketch for new fanfic cover
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