here to stink up your feed with trevor 👃💨
she/her | blog & blog owner 18+ MDNI please
i write gta v fanfiction ↓
archiveofourown.org/users/stinkysleeveless/
His dad always came back. Eventually.
But this time was different. It had been days.
He must’ve really upset Dad this time—must’ve been a real bad kid, like everyone always said.
Canada, 1975. A young Trevor Philips is abandoned at the mall by his father.
This is what happened next.
The last three chapters have been posted and the story is now complete! Thank you SO much to anyone out there who's been reading along so far. I really, really, really appreciate it 🧡
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63473758
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I enjoy writing so much, and I know that should be the most important thing. But I also really want to get better at it. I want to write things that people actually enjoy and that they get excited to read and want more of.
I’ve been finding it hard to use writing as an escape lately because I keep getting embarrassed by the things I've already put out there. So many people will have gone “Jesus this is shit” which is of course just how it goes, but I can’t shake how awful it’s been making me feel.
I need to get my life back on track and improve my mental health so that I can actually enjoy things again, but fuck me, it’s hard ):
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i'm not really a horoscope girlie, but one of my gigs is scheduling daily horoscopes on facebook and sometimes i take a little peek. i swear every time i read mine she's implying i should buy myself a little treat, so maybe i am a horoscope girlie after all 😇
Trevor Accidentally Turns On The Inward-Facing Camera On His Phone And Can’t Get It To Go Back To The Normal Camera Because He Is Old And Technology Is Hard, 2013.
by trevorphilipsenterprises
hello! this is a nasty little ficlet about being down bad for trevor whilst you're away travelling.
written as a coping mechanism by someone who is, unfortunately, in that exact situation right now ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )
will i ever stop posting mortifying things to the internet? probably not! i cannot stress enough that this is 🔞🔞🔞, and you should probably also skip this one if you've got a low tolerance for cringe.
Pairing: Trevor x Female Reader/You
Word Count: 1,420
Trevor doesn’t like not knowing what I’m doing when he’s not around. His imagination has a habit of running in ugly directions if you give it the chance.
So he made a rule...
Trevor doesn’t like not knowing what I’m doing when he’s not around. His imagination has a habit of running in ugly directions if you give it the chance.
So he made a rule.
When I was out of town, if I got turned on and needed relief, he had to be on the other end of the phone. Every time. No exceptions. No secrets. Nothing left for his spiralling imagination to fill in.
At first, he’d actually been the one to suggest the toys.
Trevor liked the idea of them. Thought they were better than me getting lonely and inviting some stranger into my bed. Better than some other pair of hands touching what belonged to him.
I’d use a dildo to fuck myself, and he’d talk me through it in that rough voice of his, the words starting to falter as he lost his mind right along with me.
For a while, it seemed enough to settle him.
But Trevor’s mind is a restless place.
By the end of one particularly long business trip, he’d started sounding suspicious again.
Not of another man.
Of the toy.
Somewhere between one phone call and the next, Trevor decided my dildo might be competition.
He paced the trailer, muttering under his breath, fists tightening and loosening as he worked himself into a quiet, simmering rage at the thought of me writhing in a bed without him.
Trevor knows exactly how I sound when I get close. He’s heard it enough times—not just through the phone, but when he’s had me pinned into a mattress beneath him, feeling every tremor run through me. He could hear it right there in his head: my voice going soft and loose at the edges, the words slipping apart as shivers of pleasure run down my spine.
He could picture it too easily.
My back arching up off the bed. My hands tangled in the sheets. Those quiet, helpless little sounds I can’t quite keep inside…
For a moment, the memory of it almost stirred something in him, his crooked mouth twitching into the faintest smile.
Then it hit him all over again.
Those sounds spilling out of me—the ones he knows by heart—being pulled out of me by something else. Something hitting me just right, like a lover who knows exactly what I need.
Something that wasn’t him.
Instead it was this… thing. Plastic. Patient. Reliable. Doing his job while he was stuck out there pacing holes into the trailer floor.
What if I wanted to keep using it when I got back to Sandy Shores?
What if I started using it in secret?
What if I was already using it in secret?
And worse still…
What if that dildo was the reason I finally decided he wasn’t enough? What if I started looking for someone else. Another man to wrap my legs around while he fucked me, pulling those same sounds out of my throat like they belonged to him.
Suddenly, Trevor felt like he’d been punched in the ribs.
With a growl, he hurled his phone across the room, the rage bursting out of him in a hot flash of red.
He barely noticed where it landed. He was already pacing again, hands dragging through his hair, breathing hard as the thoughts kept coming.
And they were getting uglier by the second.
He needed a plan. Because the next time I came home to him, Trevor intended to make damn sure I stayed his.
***
The moment I walked in, I could tell Trevor was far too pleased with himself.
He was always excited when I came back to him, but this was something else entirely. There was a restless energy in him, the mischief practically radiating out.
He barely let me step inside before grabbing my wrist and hauling me down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom, my suitcase abandoned by the door.
Then he proudly showed me what he’d done.
I actually laughed at first, startled by it. Maybe a little embarrassed, too.
But when I looked back at him again, biting my lip nervously, I realized I shouldn’t have been surprised at all. Trevor was watching me with that intense, painfully earnest look he got when he thought he’d done something important for me.
And like always, beneath all the madness of it, I knew I could trust him.
He’d had my very own toys made for me, moulded from what must have been one of his more impressive erections. I recognized his cock immediately—I hadn’t stopped thinking about the next time I’d get to wrap my hands around the real thing. The rubber captured every ridge and vein, the blunt weight of the head, thick and short but heavy, just like his.
Heat rushed to my cheeks as it hit me all at once what it meant, how badly he wanted me to feel him inside me. And I needed it too.
My breathing was already turning shallow as my eyes flicked between them, laid out on the bed and waiting for me. The sight alone was enough to make my body start aching for them.
It didn’t take long for Trevor to fuel that ache until it burned. Soon he had me on my back, my body worked into a throbbing, restless arousal under the press of his skin and mouth after so long apart.
He’d taken his time to make sure I was ready for him, dragging it out, slow and thorough, with a carefulness that always felt so at odds with the rest of him.
He used one of the dildos as a butt plug for me, working it gently there while he drove his real cock into my pussy. He fucked me deep but steady at first, until it wasn’t enough for either of us. Until we started pulling each other into something rougher, more desperate.
The feeling of Trevor taking me like that was overwhelming, the intensity of it almost too much to hold. Knowing it was him—and him alone—stretching me out and filling both holes had me helplessly moaning his name.
When he reached for the second, untouched dildo and guided it towards my mouth, my muscles fluttered and clenched at the sound of him groaning—like he could feel every part of me through it. He rocked it slowly between my lips, his rough sounds melting into softer, needier whimpers as he watched me take it so eagerly.
I felt thoroughly fucked—Trevor’s cock filling every inch of me, the eye contact we held lingering, heavy and burning, like he wasn’t just watching me, but sharing it with me, feeling every second just as deeply.
My body arched into him, still desperate to be closer despite the way he already filled my pussy, my ass, my mouth. I made sure my tongue explored every ridge and crevice of the dildo he was feeding between my lips. He was starting to lose control—each uneven thrust making me choke and gag—but I took it greedily, needing to please him.
The only thing that mattered was making him happy.
I could feel Trevor throbbing inside me, his thick head slamming into my swollen core so perfectly it made my whole body shake. He knew I couldn’t feel anything but him—his desire, the drag of every vein of his cock, matched in every ridge of the toys. He knew I was right on the edge from the sounds spilling out of me.
And I knew he was close, too.
His voice broke into rough, breathless rambling—half praise, half desperation—those messy declarations of love tumbling out of him like they always did when he was about to cum.
With one more brutal thrust against my G Spot, the orgasm ripped through me, dragging his with it as my needy pussy tightened and twitched around him.
We trembled together, hot skin soaking into each other as we clung tight, still chasing that closeness as the aftershocks rolled through us.
My body had been completely his to use; his cock completely mine to take.
We stayed fused together, neither of us ready to let go.
From that day on, I never needed to go without his cock again. I could feel him inside me no matter where I was—like he still had me claimed, even from a distance.
He’d made sure of that.
And for now, it was enough to settle Trevor’s mind again. Even with nothing but a phone line between us, he knew he couldn’t be replaced. Couldn’t be forgotten.
Still his. Still mine.
Thank you so much for reading! I'd appreciate you giving this post a like if you enjoyed it 🧡 The adorable Trevor-themed divider is by sinisterexaggerator and it can be found here, thank you!
I also need you to know that I had no idea how to introduce the fact he’d had more than one made, so I just wrote “Two Trevor-shaped dildos, just for me” as a placeholder. And then my brain wouldn't stop looping it to the beat of "a lovely cheese pizza, just for me" from Home Alone. And then I was fighting for my life trying to not laugh about how fucking dumb that is whilst on a train. Okay thanks for listening to me byyyyeeee
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no lube, no protection, all night, all day from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, first clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind bloging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine ting, thirsty, thursting all day without stopping, till nothing left, satisfied, non-stop, every single sec, crawling, back hurt, cramp legs, can't walk for 5 years, don't care, still non-stop, him oiled up makes me turned on even more, screaming without s, him whimpers makes my inside giggling, in heat, everyday, till the neighbors hear us, till the neighbors can remember his name perfectly, even earthquake, thunderstorm, heavy rain, typhoon, we still keep going, broke bed, everyday buy a new bed, hole floor, gasping for air, crying, gripping his back, leave a bite marks and red marks on his neck and every spot, scratching his back, leaves a scars on his back, phenomenal, month foaming, heavenly awakening, id still bounce on it, body numbling, back worthy, hair drenced, flabbergasting, down break, whimpering our names, till the neighbors decide to move, legs spread automatically, DOWN BAD, ON MY KNEES, WOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOOF WOOFWOROFKKENFOECOENFEOKFOEOFOFOOFOFOFOFOFOF, WOOOOFFFFFFFF, MEOOOWWMEEOOWWWMEOOOWWWWWW GREERRRRR ILL TAKE IT LIKE A GOOD GIRL, GRRERGGRRGRGR ONE MORE CHANCE, BARKING SOWOOOOOO OOFFFF GUESS THIS IS WILD BUT I DONT GIV A SHITT
I'm noticing a bit of a trend with that CYOA Trevor Smut. The vast majority of people who've commented/messaged me in some way with their first ending landed on one in which T ends up in a more submissive role.
Do we all just crave Trevor whimpering at our feet? Am I reading that right?!
Don't get me wrong, I understand.
And don't worry, I'm not looking to psychoanalyze the fandom here.
tbf, i’d personally quite like to psychoanalyze the fandom on this… 👀
@daintyeel is probably one of the coolest and nicest people i’ve ever known in a lifetime of being in fandoms, and you need to check out her Choose Your Own Adventure Trevor Smut if you’ve not already 🧡
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
okay sometimes i just have to be creative about gta v or else it feels like i’ll explode, but i can’t draw so i have to come up with some other dumb bullshit.
here’s what the forums are saying about Michael De Santa’s latest film, The Last Honest Man, which, unfortunately, shares an opening weekend with Impotent Rage.
PS you have to imagine that this is Michael’s face when he’s reading them all:
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I might as well tell strangers because it's a little easier than telling people in real life 🤷♀️
Decided to stay in a hotel this week to try to figure things out, but so far I don't think I'm doing a very good job of actually figuring anything out.
The weekend was really difficult. I was trying to get an answer about why my boyfriend made that call to the property agent, and over the course of the weekend I got 3 versions.
First it was "I don't need to give you a reason” and “I can do what I want." That came with a lot of silent treatment.
Stage 2 was saying he did it to see whether I'd assume it was him, or one of his family members. I assumed it was his niece, so I guess I failed that imaginary game 🤷♀️ Still don't know whether it was supposed to be some kind of loyalty test, but either way, he slammed doors and yelled a lot.
Then he told me that the real reason was that he's conflicted about selling the house. Part of him desperately wants the money, while another part of him is devastated to be losing his childhood home. He also said he's been feeling emasculated because his mother made me the executor of her will instead of him. She didn't trust him to make the right decisions, and he's still carrying a lot of anger and hurt over that. He told me he needed a way to take out those feelings on me. This time there was a lot of crying and apologizing.
I'm guessing the real reason is maybe a combination of all those things? Who knows. Least of all me.
I couldn't really accept the apologies this time because, aside from the phone call itself, he'd been so unpleasant throughout the whole thing. When I still didn’t know who did it and what the hell was going on, I cried about it, coz, y’know. I hate it about myself, but I get overwhelmed easily and I’m just a cryer, I can’t help it.
On that first day he wouldn’t stop yelling at me to stop crying, and he was getting right in my face until I ended up completely horizontal on the couch from trying to get away from it. I know other people have been through much worse, but it really was awful. And now it feels even worse knowing he was doing all of that when he knew full well he was the one that made the call.
So I decided to go to a hotel, because I didn’t know what to do next. But I didn’t really handle it properly, and I waited until he had to go out to a work thing rather than telling him first, which wasn’t the right thing to do, but here we are. It was the easier thing to do, I suppose.
And I was kinda in a place where we’d just end up seeing each other at The House again (it’s 6-7 hours away from where we live, and we’re due to go back there this weekend anyway) and just keep going until it’s sold, because at that point his mental health should improve a little.
But then he called me and was even worse than ever. He was saying that I wasn't actually going to leave him because I know no one else would have me, and that I wouldn't be able to get him back next time because he'd make sure he moved on first.
Which sounds almost comically cruel when you write it down, but it is unfortunately true. Both that he said it, and that I'd probably just end up alone if I did leave him. I tried really hard to find someone new in the year we broke up, but no one was interested in me at all. I just don't have It, folks. I'm not a looker and I don't have any rizz, as the kids say. I'd just be an eternally lonely blob.
Tbh it just made me angry more than anything. It feels so unfair that he always has to go straight for cruelty. It can't be how people in relationships are supposed to treat each other. It just can't be. I've only ever been with him, so I don't really know. But... I also kinda do know. Idk.
So now I'm just more confused and depressed than ever. But I can see an old ship from my room, which is nice. And I came to the next city down because a childhood friend lives here now, so I might be able to see her and feel 12 years old again for a couple of hours. That would be nice.
I need to call him today to check that he's okay, although I was kind of hoping he'd call first. We'll see, I guess.
I still don't really know why I'm writing all this down, but it does help. If nothing else, it's making sure I'm keeping everything in chronological order while everything feels this confusing.
I should probably also say that, if anyone is actually reading this, I do feel genuinely awful writing about him like this. I'm obviously focusing on the worst parts because... well, they're the parts I'm trying to make sense of. That doesn't mean those are the only parts of him. He's also wonderful and kind sometimes. He's going through a lot, and a lot of people rely on him, and I know that isn't easy.
I think that's part of why I feel so guilty writing any of this down. It feels like I'm reducing someone I love to the moments when things have gone wrong. I’m not writing this to convince strangers that he's a bad person, it’s because the sequence of all this is starting to get hard to hold onto in my head. idk idk. Wow, you can really see why everyone hates me, huh?