Trevor Philips X Reader (Stepping into his Dangerous World)

FIB F*cks

"Hey we got a change of plans, sugar tits." Trevor's voice sounded through the smooth, black device. 

"I'm gonna change your plans if you fuckin call me that again, Trevor." Michael growled.

"Jeez you are touchy." Trevor smirked and purred. "Anyways, can't you tell those FIB fucks that we need to do this job another day? My fiancé wants a try at a celebration." 

"You know I can't just do that. Look, you're in this shit as deep as I am now. Franklin already got the getaway, I'm working on my end, all you gotta do is buy some fuckin masks, and man up." Michael rose his voice slightly to make his point. 

"F-ine." Trevor scowled and hung up the phone. Not only did he have a roller-coaster of emotions with his significant other, he was forced to work for other people. People he despised. It made him feel nothing, but deep, dark hatred. When he thought of you, the darkness seemed to clear a bit, but he knew he had this job to get over with in order to be rid of it. 

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You were already at the hotel. Trevor had dropped you off and told you he had some business to take care of. So much for celebrating you guessed. At least you got to stay in a fancy hotel in Los Santos. It had modern accents of silver, black, and red. Too bad Trevor wasn't there or you would have jumped his bones by now. 

In a duffel bag sat the enormous amount of weed. You were a little scared of having it in such a high end place like this, Trevor had told you that it would be fine. He said that in almost every room there was someone rich doing something that they didn't want other people knowing about, whether it be cocaine, or hookers. Rich people had money to spare, so getting in trouble wasn't really an issue when they could just pay the police to look the other way. It didn't help that you could almost smell it across the room, you weren't sure how no one noticed it. 

You were getting restless though. You got on something a bit nicer to wear, because you were able to pack before you left. It was a smooth (f/c) dress that fit your figure nicely. You weren't great in heels so you wore some flats instead. You went down to the bar and ordered a drink while you waited. 

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"So you like, having a party or somethin dude?" The guy at the mask shack asked the dangerous looking man in orange mini shorts, looking him up and down. 

"Oh yeah, something real fun." Trevor replied sarcastically. "Take my money and shut up register boy." He threw the money at him. 

"Jesus fine." He grumbled and shoved the cash in the drawer, promptly giving him his change back. "Here you go." He handed the masks in the bag to him. "Have a nice day." He rolled his eyes, knowing his boss would kick his ass if he didn't say it to each customer. 

"Fuck off." Trevor turned and walked away. He called Michael and Franklin to let them know the job was done, all he had to do was wait for Michael to hold up his end of the bargain.

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Trevor went back to the hotel, somewhat excited to see your beautiful face. There was a man at the door who gave him a judging look. Obviously disapproving of his clothing choice for today. 

"Sir, you must have a reservation." He said to him. 

The gruff mane spoke through clenched teeth. "I have a reservation. My fiancé and I are celebrating our engagement." 

"Oh." An embarrassed blush spread across the other man's face. M-my bad, sir." He bowed and opened the door for him. 

"You fucking better be." He hissed as he walked though with the bag of masks. He scanned the room, looking for threats out of habit. As his eyes grazed across the environment, he saw you sitting alone at the bar in your dress. His eyes scanned you, from your legs to your perfect locks. Everything about you was perfect to him. He looked around, he wanted something to give you. Near the reception desk there was a vase full of roses and other flowers he didn't know the name of. 

He walked over to them, the receptionist was busy with a phone call, and paid him no mind until he started taking some flowers. 

"Can you hold on for one moment please?" The brown haired little woman spoke to the person on the other line before covering the end of the phone with her hand. "Sir, you can't just-"

He cut her off. "The fuck I can't." He stared daggers into her. 

She gave him a salty look and then resumed her phone call. 

Once he had gotten enough flowers, he hid them behind his back as he walked over to you. 

You took a sip of you drink and looked over to see Trevor. He sat down to you and gave you a playful smirk. "Hello sexy." 

"Hi there, handsome." You winked at him. "Whatcha got there?" You asked. 

"Something for a job Mikey, Frank and I gotta do. But..." He paused for dramatic effect and pulled the flowers from behind his back. "These are for you." 

"That's so sweet." You smiled at him and took the flowers, giving them a whiff to smell their sweetness. They looked oddly familiar though... "Thank you." 

"So tonight I was thinking-" Trevor got cut off by his phone ringing. He scowled and answered. It was Michael and Franklin on the other end. Michael had gotten his part of the job done, the job needed to get done sooner than later, meaning tonight. A dark look came across his eyes. "I'll be there." He hung up the phone and gave you an apologetic look. "I have to do that thing with Mikey tonight. We have this place for another few days, so when I come back, I'm going to fuck you like a rock star, and we're going to sell some fuckin goods." He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

You watched him walk out the door with a slight sadness. Little did you know, as you were watching him, someone was watching you, quite intently at that. 

He never expected to see Trevor Philips at a place like this. The Lost MC had decided not to go after you again after what happened the last time, but he overheard Trevor saying something about "selling goods" and anyone in the business knew that it meant some kind of drugs. He went down the hallway and into his room to make a phone call. 

"Boss." He spoke.

"Is it him?" He asked. 

"Yeah its him. Looks like he's selling in LS." He pushed up his dark aviator sunglasses.

"You know we can't do shit there because of the Vagos." The other man growled. 

"No, but we can fuck it up somehow and maybe he'll end up dead." 

There was a pause on the other line. "That might just work..." The boss man sighed. "Figure out the details in be in touch." 

"You got it." He hung up the phone and spit his toothpick in the trash. This was going to be fun...