Trevor Philips X Reader (Stepping into his Dangerous World)

Meth Whore

Trevor waited for you to get back. The more he waited, the more impatient he grew. Some part of him wondered if you had left him, like everyone else did in his life. But deep in his core, something told him that your love was genuine. 

"What the fuck is taking her so long?" He asked the nothingness around him. He paced back and forth before deciding to go check on you. 

He was only in his underwear when he left the room, not really giving a shit about who saw him. He was hoping to see you. His eyes wandered the luxurious, clean halls of the beach resort. Seafoam green walls and neat white trim. Gold accents and typical beachy things all over the walls and décor. He figured in a way, you must have still felt at home there, considering your little house had basically all the same kind of stuff. 

He got to the ice machine and saw the bucket on the ground, ice was half melted streaming down the concrete. His deep, brown eyebrows drew themselves together. He looked around for more clues, and spotted the paper. 

"You have got to be FUCKING kidding me." He gritted his teeth together, and rage welled up in him even more when he saw the knife he had given you. "Those fucking bastards." Trevor ripped the knife out of the wall let his eyes explore it. He had bought it for you because it was the only switchblade he had seen with little sea shells on it. Hand made by some hippie jackass. He just got even more angry at the fact that someone had taken you. "Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!" He punched the wall next to him. 

There was a small noise next to him, an older woman was holding an ice bucket looking him up and down.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" She flinched and then started walking away in a fast pace.

"OH YEAH, JUST RUN AWAY LIKE THE REST OF THEM YOU FAT COW!" He screamed after her.

She ran down the hallway, and ducked around a corner.

He went to get in his truck and then looked down. "Fuck, I need pants for this." He marched to the room, got on his clothes, grabbed a gun and headed for the trailer park that he'd previously blown up.

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Meanwhile, you were tied to a chair in some shitty trailer. It was an old, wooden chair, unpleasant on the ass cheeks. The men two men that kidnapped you were sons of the elder members. They hadn't experienced Trevor's rage directly, but they hated him all the same. 

"Do you know what that fucking monster did to us? Have you seen around you? He came here with bombs, and guns, and fucked us all over. He fucking killed Johnny. You knew Johnny, he talked to you a couple times at the bar. How can you be with a fucking psychopath like that?" He slammed his fist into the counter. 

It was true. You had talked to Johnny, he wasn't a bad guy. Probably didn't deserve what Trevor did to him, but you can't be accountable for your lover's actions. "Look, I'm not Trevor. I just... I love him." There was a sharp smack to your face, backhanded. "Fuck!" You spat at them. "You assholes just wait until he gets here." You snarled at them.

"Oh baby, this time we're ready." They flashed you a large looking weapon. An anti tank rifle. 

Were they really that scared of one man? Anyone would get obliterated by that thing. Slight worry stirred in you, you wanted to help, get out of it somehow and stab one of these fuckers. You struggled with the ropes behind your back, they were dumb enough to not know how to make proper knots as it felt. 

"Hey, quit squirming, bitch." The one in sunglasses spat back at you. He flicked a knife out, "I wouldn't want you to get hurt, alright?" His tone was cool, and steely. "We only want Trevor."

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Channel X blasted in the radio of Trevor's red truck. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, he was going to cut these guys into little pieces when he was done. Twisted scenarios went through his head as he sped down the road. When he pulled close to the old MC trailer park, he shut off his music and headlights just before he got there. He knew they were expecting him, and that you were a trap to get to him. It was a matter of figuring out what trailer you were in. Not that there were many left. The unfortunate thing is he couldn't just blow them to pieces without risking you getting hurt. 

The good thing was these guys were dumbasses, and parked the van in front of the trailer you were in. A smirk played on Trevor's lips, and he got a certain glint in his eye. He spotted one of them keeping lookout, he sneaked around the burnt rubble of the trailer park, staying low and slow. He had his combat pistol armed, and ready to shoot. Silencer on it. It was one of the elder MC members.

"I'm gonna go take a piss." He waved to his other guard duty buddy. He started walking Trevor's way. 

"Shit, shit." He muttered, getting out of sight. 

The MC gang member heard something. "The hell was that?" He walked closer, Trevor had no choice. He shot him dead in the middle of the forehead, no coming back from that one. Unfortunately, he was fat, and there was rubble around, His body hit the ground with a hard thud.

The other guard immediately knew something was wrong, and alerted the boys inside. 

"Trevor's here." He looked at the boys. 

Another middle aged man stepped out of the corner. "There's four of us, and one of him, what's the worst that can happen? You have that anti-tank thing, use it on the fucker."

That seemed to get the jugheads all riled up. They hooted and hollered before exiting the shitty little trailer. 

"Come on out if you ever want to see your little meth whore again!" They yelled at the landscape, hoping to get Trevor pissed off. If he made a noise, they were going to shoot an RPG at him. He knew he as going to have to outsmart them. 

He grabbed a piece of junk from next to him and tossed it in another area, making to seem like he was over there. It was loud, horribly loud. The dumbasses weren't expecting the kick to knock both of them on their asses. While they were disoriented, Trevor knew this was his chance. He moved around the trailer they had come out of and shot the two that were on the ground in the head. The older men got pissed, and decided fucking with the RPG was too much of a risk. They shot at Trevor, getting him in the arm a couple times before he got back behind something. 

Then it happened. He felt the rage build in his core. They had taken you from him, and they had to fucking pay for it. He listened to the gunshots, right until they stopped. He cocked his gun and ran toward the men while they were reloading. He shot the one with a beard dead center in the forehead. The other man stumbled on himself, fear welling up in him. All of his buddies were dead. He put his hands up in surrender. 

"Come on man, don't do this. I-It was just business, you know?" His voice wavering slightly. From the look on his face, he might as well have been talking to a statue. Trevor was wearing a mask of pure rage, frozen on his face.

"Yeah, well then this is just business too." He pulled out his knife, jumping on top of the now panicking man, and slit his throat in a smooth motion. "Not enough" he growled, his rage flowing through the knife into the warm corpse, as he stabbed it over and over again. It bubbled up inside of him and escaped through his throat, as his screams flew into the dark night sky. He looked down at his hands, red with blood, his t-shirt now a dark crimson. He pulled the knife out of the now cold shell of what used to be a man, and wiped it clean on his jeans. Slowly, he made his way back to the trailer.

"Trevor?" Your eyes widened as you saw him, completely saturated with blood. His eyes were as empty as the void...