Trevor Philips X Reader (Stepping into his Dangerous World)

This CAN'T Be The End (it is)

When you got to Burger Shot, you felt around for your wallet. To your dismay, it wasn't there. Trevor saw the worried look on your face. 

"What's wrong, cupcake?" He asked. 

"I-uh... I can't find my wallet..." You looked around nervously, trying to see if you had dropped it nearby.

It angered Trevor seeing you like this. He wanted everything, EVERYTHING, to go smoothly for you, no matter what it was. And your wallet, no less? Someone needed to pay. Someone needed to die. He wracked his brain trying to figure out what low life could have stolen it, and then pinpointed it. Traci was too stupid to have stolen your wallet, but that other guy...

You watched as Trevor's face went through a range of emotions, most of them mad looking, until his face settled on one. Seething rage. "That mother-FUCKER! I'm gonna hunt him down and rip his guts out like a fish." Some people stopped eating their burger to watch Trevor, and also winced at what he said. You noticed this happened to him alot, and he also didn't seem to mind a bit.

"Who?" You asked.

He narrowed his brown eyes. "That biker looking piece of shit." He walked up to the nearest cashier and ordered you your favorite kind of burger in a demanding and angry way, then something for himself. A kid's meal...? "Yeah, and I want two of the baby bleeder bags, give me both toy options for a boy and a girl." The cashier in front of him had a slight smirk on his face at Trevor's order. "Haven't you ever seen a man with parenting issues? Wipe that stupid fuckin grin off your face." The small zit-faced teen did exactly as Trevor demanded and his smirk was cleared from his face. After about 5 minutes standing to the side, he gave him the bags and bid him a good day.

---Meanwhile---

Hank Texas had gotten what he wanted from you bumping into him. The move was a little risky, but your address was on your driver's license. The way he saw it, you more than likely lived close to Trevor. He didn't seem like he'd be the type to attract the typical Los Santos girls. If he couldn't figure out your business in Los Santos, then he'd just have to find a way to get to Trevor through your house. He also saw something else while he was rooting around in your wallet. A piece of paper with an address and a name on it. He pulled it out with his rough, calloused fingers.

"Juan Cuervo, 1369 Jamestown st. (Rancho). 11:30 p.m."

He hadn't been in town long, but he got the low-down from his boss on who all the big bosses were in LS. Juan Cuervo was the leader of the Vagos. He guessed that was where you two would be meeting. Hank rubbed his tired, deep green eyes and drew a cigarette. He lit it by striking a match alongside his boot. "If I can keep the girl out of this that'd be preferable..." He said aloud to himself. "But that just might not be an option... not with this kind of maniac." His deep Texan accent slip past his lips as smoothly as gin on rocks. He viewed Trevor like a mad dog that needed to be put down, he wasn't going to take pleasure in killing him, but it was the right thing to do. Not only to avenge the death of his brother, but for the good of society.

Hank got a notification on his phone from his bugging equipment, there was noise coming from your room. He began to listen in.

"Fuck this shit, we're going RIGHT NOW." Trevor huffed.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "They aren't expecting until-"

"Don't you get it?!" He exclaimed. "The time and place you wrote down is on that fuckin paper. We don't know who jacked your wallet, and we don't want them jacking our deal. So I'm grabbing the fuckin weed, and we're gonna go see our amigos." He put the duffel bag around his arm and gave you a light spank on the ass. "And if I see that biker fuck he's gonna die." He growled under his breath.