↳ Includes: Sexual scenarios, MY opinions, Prob a little cringe, idk what else just read :)

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AFTERCARE, (what he's like after sex)

Gunner loves to have you close to him right after sex, if that's cuddling, kissing, or laying on each other — he just enjoys having your body against him. He'd make sure you're all good and clean you up before offering to order you food.

BODY PART, (his favourite body part of yours)

He's obsessed with your ass and your thighs. During sex Gunner loves grabbing your ass between his palms and shaking and smacking it with a smirk on his face, but he also loves the feeling of your thighs closing around his head while he eats you out, he'll kneed and bite them before diving back in between your legs.

CUM, (anything to do with cum really)

Usually he enjoys cumming inside of you or pulling out a little to fuck his cum back into your pussy but Gunner also lovesss painting your face and watching your eyes stare up at him with his cum all over your fucked-out face.

DIRTY SECRET, (a dirty secret of his)

He likes it when you're mad. Having someone scream and point a finger in his face would usually make him crash the fuck out, but when you're the one doing it? He's trying to hide his boner, biting his lip, and waiting for you to stop so he can make it up to you.

EXPERIENCE, (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

He's definitely got a good amount of experience.. he's had his fun, but good for you because he's skilled.

FAVOURITE POSITION, (self explanatory)

He enjoys them all but backshots have a special spot in his heart — especially if he can fuck you infront of a mirror, he still wants to see that pretty face!

GOOFY, (is he humorous in the moment? does he make jokes?)

He's the biggest tease ever, when he's in full control he'll mock what you say, the noises you make — even if you complain about his teasing he'll just tease you for that too! It's not an every time thing, if it's right after a show he's usually tired and focused on kissing you instead. Anytime you're in control and you try to tease him back he'll whine and complain until you genuinely feel bad.

HAIR, (how is he groomed? does the carpet match the drapes?)

He trims his hair so it doesn't irritate either of you but he doesn't like being fully bald.

INTIMACY, (how is he in the moment through romantic aspect?)

He doesn't take sex lightly — he appreciates you giving your body to him no matter how rough or "mean" he can get, he enjoys fucking you slow and whispering soft praises in your ear more than he lets on.

JACK OFF, (anything to do with masturbation)

He doesn't if there's no reason to — if you're in the same city as him you're usually glued to his side, but if he's on tour or if you're away he'll jerk off to tapes you've made together or call you so you can get off together.

KINK, (a kink of his)

He likes being taken care of — from you doing little daily things for him like feeding him, doing his hair, or painting his nails to you dropping to your knees infront of him when he's stressed and taking your time to run your hands up his body and drag out his pleasure while you suck him off.

LOCATION, (where is his favourite place to do it)

He honestly does not care, he prefers a private space so he can hear all your moans and cries but he likes the risk of fucking you somewhere more public where you could get caught.

MOTIVATION, (what turns him on and gets him going)

Gunner finds it really hot when you try on new clothes infront of him (ball knowledge) especially if it's new lingerie, he'll pull you in close and run his hands up your sides but he won't fuck you until you're done — even if you ask him to.

NO, (something he wouldn't do, turn offs)

He can be pretty experimental but he's very against anything that would seriously hurt you (or just anything weird)

ORAL, (preference in giving or receiving, skill, ect)

It's pretty equal — he loves the feeling of your lips wrapped around his cock, he'll have you suck him off all the time but this man is also a munch, he'll randomly ask to go down on you and he'll eat your pussy until your physically pushing him away from you.

PACE, (is he fast, slow, stamina, ect)

He likes to fuck you fast and rough most of the time, but like I said before he really enjoys the times when you're both in the mood to go slow, he likes watching your face as he drags your orgasm out.

QUICKIES, (his opinion on them? how often? ect)

He loves them, Gunner will fuck you quick before a show and just love knowing how hard he had just made you cum while performing to hundreds of people.

RISK, (is he game to experiment? does he take risks?)

Yes, but nothing too crazy. He usually waits for you to suggest something new to try — he likes seeing how shy you get when you bring up new things to him. He's pretty risky and he says that you bring it out of him.

STAMINA, (how many rounds can she go for? how long does she last?)

He can last for a while and go a few rounds but each time he cums he gets a little more and more whiney and sensitive.

TOYS, (does he own toys? does he use them?)

Gunner's not interested on using them on himself, but if he found out you owed any he'd find it hot if you to showed him how you use them on yourself and wouldn't be apposed to incorporating them while fucking you (but not always, he wants to be the one to make you feel good the most)

UNFAIR, (how much does he like to tease?)

Alot! He's the biggest tease — he'll whisper the most dirty things in your ear in public then turn back to whoever he was talking to like nothing happened, he wants to see you squirm (sometimes he's hoping you'll take charge) and once you're alone he'll continue to act dumb until he finally gives in to your begging.

VOLUME, (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?)

He's not usually very loud unless you're dominating him or you've gone many rounds — when you're fucking he'll grunt and let out breathy sounds (especially when he cums)

WILD CARD, (random head cannon)

Gunner loves showing you off, he's so proud to be your man and he want's everyone to know it. He's not afraid to post scandalous pictures of you two — he'll take a picture of you laying on his chest right after sex and post it on his story.

X-RAY, (what's going on underneath them clothes?)

He's pretty big, not huge but he's thick.

YEARNING, (how high is his sex drive?)

Gunner is needy as fuck, he always wants you — especially when he's high. He'll have you on his lap and hold you close while he grinds his hips up against your crotch, a joint being passes back and forth as the weed makes him more and more desperate. You love seeing him when he let's his guard down and you milk it whenever you can.

ZZZ, (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards?)

He can stay up for awhile afterwards, usually he want's to wait for you to fall asleep first but if he's had a long day or a big show he just wants you to hold him until he while falls asleep.

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— Nettspend x Reader Mini Series

information: Silversnipe and Nettspend have been compared to each other since the beginning of their careers, constantly labeled the male and female versions of one another. Despite endless comparisons and years of fan demand, they’ve never worked together—until just weeks before rolling loud, when Gunner unexpectedly drops a song featuring Y/n’s drunken voice as the intro. After connecting online, the two are pushed into a PR “relationship” to promote their long-awaited collab, but what starts as fake quickly turns real. cw/tags: Drinking, Smoking, Drug usage, Sexual/Sensual content, Rebellion

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Once you were finally done getting ready, after changing your outfit more times than you would ever admit out loud and standing in front of your mirror for long enough that it stopped being about actually checking how you looked and started becoming more about stalling the moment you had to leave, Gunner had already sent you his address, the message still sitting open on your phone as you grabbed your purse from the edge of your bed and headed downstairs toward your car, feeling that familiar tightness in your stomach that you tried to convince yourself was just nerves even though there was a very specific kind of anticipation tangled in it that you didn’t really want to name.

You hated that you were thinking about it this much.

You hated that you were even thinking about it at all.

Because on paper, this was simple — you were just going over to hang out with someone you had been working with, someone you had been compared to for a while, someone who was now becoming part of a very specific kind of situation that both of your teams were suddenly very interested in shaping — but none of that explained why, when you had gotten home after the last time you saw him, you hadn’t been able to just fall asleep like you normally would have after a long day.

Instead, you had ended up lying in bed for hours, your phone dimly lighting your face while you scrolled through the photos you had taken together, replaying pieces of conversation in your head that should not have taken up as much space in your thoughts as they did, because it wasn’t like anything dramatic had happened, nothing life changing, nothing particularly intense, and yet the entire night had still managed to stick to you in a way that felt strangely persistent.

It had been easy.

Too easy.

The kind of easy that made you slightly suspicious of it even while you were in it.

So when he texted you earlier, you had tried your best to sound as uninterested as possible, not because you didn’t want to go, but because something about how quickly you wanted to say yes felt mildly alarming in a way you didn’t fully know how to process yet, like showing enthusiasm would make it too real.

The drive itself wasn’t long, but it stretched out in your head anyway because you spent most of it thinking without meaning to, replaying the last time you had seen him, wondering what this was becoming even though you kept trying to shut that thought down every time it surfaced, reminding yourself that it didn’t have to be anything at all, that you were just hanging out, that you were just working, that this was probably just another one of those temporary connections that existed in your life and then disappeared without much explanation.

Still, by the time you pulled up outside his building, your grip on the steering wheel was tighter than necessary, and you sat there for a moment longer than you meant to before finally getting out of the car and heading inside, the lobby warm and quiet in a way that made everything feel slightly more intimate, like the building itself already knew why you were there.

The elevator ride gave you too much time to think, your reflection staring back at you in the mirrored walls while you absently smoothed out your clothes for no real reason and then immediately got annoyed at yourself for doing it, because there was no reason to be like this, no reason to be thinking this deeply about going to someone’s apartment, especially not someone you had only recently started hanging out with, and yet your hands still kept adjusting things you didn’t need to adjust.

When the doors finally opened, you were standing in front of his apartment, your hand hovering near the door for half a second before you knocked anyway.

It opened almost immediately.

Like he had already been close.

“You took forever.”

He said it instantly, like it had been sitting on the tip of his tongue waiting for you to arrive, though the grin on his face completely contradicted any actual annoyance, because even with the teasing in his voice there was something about the way he looked at you that made it very obvious he was genuinely happy you were there, like the joke was just an excuse to acknowledge it.

You narrowed your eyes slightly as you stepped closer, slipping inside as you answered.

“It’s been an hour since we made these plans.”

“Still felt like forever,” he replied easily, stepping aside so you could come in, his shoulder brushing yours briefly as you passed, casual enough that it almost didn’t register but noticeable enough that it did anyway, like your body caught up a second later.

“You’re dramatic,” you said, slipping your shoes off near the door.

“You’re late,” he countered immediately.

“I’m not late.”

“You were emotionally late.”

You paused and looked at him. “What does that even mean?”

He shrugged like it was obvious, like it wasn’t something he had just made up.

“It means I got bored waiting.”

That got a laugh out of you before you could stop it, small and real, because there was something about the way he said things so confidently even when they made no sense that made it hard not to react.

The apartment itself felt exactly like him in a way you weren’t sure you could properly explain, not messy in a dirty way, just lived in, with hoodies thrown across the back of chairs, random objects sitting on counters like they had been placed there and immediately forgotten, music playing low in the background from somewhere deeper in the space, and the faint smell of smoke and cologne lingered in the air as you looked around for a moment longer than you meant to.

“You judging already?” he asked as he closed the door behind you.

You glanced back at him.

“You want me to lie?”

He pressed a hand to his chest like he had been wounded.

“Damn.”

“I didn’t say it was bad.”

“That makes it sound like it’s bad,” he said immediately, pointing at you like you had confirmed his fears.

“It just looks like a guy lives here.”

“See, that’s gotta be an insult.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head as you moved further inside.

“You invited me,” you reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said, following you now, hands in his hoodie pocket, “starting to regret that decision.”

The smile on his face made it very clear that he wasn’t regretting anything at all.

You ended up moving toward the couch naturally, like there wasn’t really a decision to make, and the moment you sat down he dropped beside you in a way that felt easy, like he didn’t have to consider it before doing it, and then, just as naturally, his arm settled loosely behind you along the back of the couch before eventually resting around your shoulders.

You stiffened slightly at first out of instinct more than discomfort, because you weren’t used to people being this casual around you, especially not someone you were still technically getting to know, but he didn’t react in a way that made it feel weird, didn’t comment, didn’t shift away or make it into something it didn’t need to be, and instead just stayed exactly as he was as if he had decided this was normal and was waiting for you to decide it too.

“You good?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, not checking up on you in a way that felt heavy or invasive, just casually noticing the shift.

You nodded once, letting your shoulders drop slightly as you relaxed into him, and after a second you exhaled and answered, “Yeah,” a little softer than you expected, like the word had come out before you had time to overthink it.

He nodded like that was enough for him, relaxing further into the couch as if that confirmation let him settle properly, and then he spoke again, gaze drifting toward the ceiling like he was already halfway through his thoughts.

“Good,” he said, like he had been waiting for that answer before continuing anything else, “because I got so much shit to tell you.”

And just like that, he started talking.

Not in a structured way, not in any way that followed a clean path, but in the way people talk when they are comfortable enough not to filter themselves, jumping from topic to topic, complaining about things that probably didn’t matter in the grand scheme of anything, exaggerating moments for effect, getting distracted mid-sentence and circling back without losing momentum, and you found yourself listening more closely than you expected to because there was something about the way he spoke that made everything feel like you were part of it instead of just hearing it from the outside, like you were being pulled into his rhythm.

At some point without noticing, your posture changed, your body settling further into the couch, your shoulders no longer held as tightly as they were when you first sat down, and you started reacting more naturally too, laughing under your breath when something was funny, interrupting occasionally with small comments that made him pause just long enough to look at you like he was slightly surprised you were keeping up before continuing like it was completely normal that you were there in the middle of his thoughts.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, without either of you pointing it out or acknowledging it, the space between you stopped feeling like something you were managing and started feeling like something that had just… disappeared on its own.

Then, halfway through a sentence, he stopped calmly like something had occurred to him.

“You hungry?” he asked.

He said it casually, like it was just another thought drifting through everything else he was saying, but it still shifted the moment, pulling both of you slightly back into awareness of time in a way neither of you had been paying attention to, and when you blinked and looked around like the room might explain how long you had been there, you realized you genuinely had no idea anymore.

“Yeah,” you answered after a second, a little surprised by how quickly it came out, because you hadn’t even realized it until he said it.

He nodded once like that was already settled in his head.

“There’s a store downstairs,” he said, already shifting forward like the decision had been made before you even fully agreed, “we can just grab stuff quick and come back up.”

You hesitated for half a second purely out of habit, but before you could turn it into something complicated, he was already grabbing his keys and looking back at you like he was waiting for you to follow, not because he was rushing you, but because he assumed you would.

So you did.

The walk downstairs was quieter than the apartment had been, not awkward, just calmer, like the energy had casually shifted into something looser and more grounded, and when you stepped outside the building the cooler air hit your skin immediately, sharp in a way that made you more aware of the night, more aware of him walking beside you.

The store was only a few minutes away, and the entire walk there felt strangely normal compared to how you had arrived earlier, because now instead of overthinking every step you were just walking beside him, matching pace without trying to, noticing how he occasionally glanced at you like he was thinking of saying something and then didn’t.

At one point he nudged your shoulder lightly as you crossed the street, not enough to interrupt your balance but enough to get your attention, and when you looked at him he was already smiling like he had been waiting to say something.

“You always this quiet?” he asked.

“I’m not quiet,” you said immediately.

He raised a brow. “You’re literally quiet right now.”

“I’m observing.”

“Observing what?”

You looked forward again.

“How annoying you are.”

That got a laugh out of him immediately, real and loud enough that a couple people nearby glanced over, and he shook his head as he walked a little closer beside you.

“Yeah,” he said, still smiling, “you definitely like me.”

You scoffed without looking at him.

“That’s not what that means.”

“It kinda does.”

“It really doesn’t.”

He bumped your shoulder again, softer this time, like he was just trying to keep you close without making it obvious.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m joking.”

But he was still smiling when he said it.

The store was bright in a way that felt almost too awake compared to everything else, aisles too clean, shelves too organized, that late-night silence hanging in the air where everything felt slightly surreal, like the world was paused but still functioning.

Gunner grabbed two baskets immediately and handed one to you, like it had already been decided this was a group effort, and you followed him through the aisles as he started picking up random things without much of a plan, snacks, drinks, ingredients for something that was vaguely a recipe but mostly just impulse.

“You’re just grabbing anything,” you said after a moment, watching him toss something into the basket.

“I know what I’m doing,” he said confidently without even looking at you.

“You absolutely do not.”

He finally glanced over. “You cooking?”

You paused. “…no.”

“Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop following him, drifting between aisles as he moved like he belonged there, occasionally handing you things just to see what you’d do with them, and somewhere in the middle of it, the two of you fell into a rhythm without realizing it, bumping shoulders when you reached for the same item, laughing under your breath when neither of you could explain why something was funny.

At one point he leaned in slightly to look at something on a shelf and you stepped back half a step without thinking, and he noticed immediately.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said too quickly.

“You just moved.”

“I didn’t.”

He stared at you like he was trying to decide if you were serious.

“You definitely did.”

You looked away. “I just needed space.”

He nodded slowly like he was taking that in way too seriously.

“Mhm,” he said. “Space.”

Then he leaned slightly closer again just to test you.

You immediately shoved his shoulder.

“Stop.”

He laughed, stepping back with both hands up.

“Alright, alright.”

The checkout was quick, and by the time you were walking back out with the bag between you, the night felt quieter than before, like everything had settled further into itself.

And when you got back to his building and stepped inside again, it felt even more familiar than it should have.

His apartment was exactly the same, music still low, lights still warm, like it had been waiting for you to come back into it.

“You hungry hungry?” he asked, dropping the bag on the counter.

“Yeah,” you said, slipping off your shoes again.

“Good,” he said, already moving toward the kitchen, “I don’t really know what I’m doing but we’re gonna figure it out.”

You followed him without thinking. “That is not reassuring.”

“It should be.”

It wasn’t.

But you didn’t try and stop him.

And somehow, that ended up being how you were both in his kitchen a few minutes later, cooking something entirely improvised while music played louder now, bumping into each other constantly as you reached for the same things, laughing when he nearly burned something and tried to pretend he didn’t, secretly stealing bites before anything was finished like it was a mission.

At one point he turned too quickly and bumped into you, one hand catching your waist just briefly to steady you, and neither of you said anything about it afterward, even though the moment stayed for a second longer than it should have.

“You’re actually useless in the kitchen,” you said, taking another bite.

“I’m learning,” he argued immediately.

“You’re not learning fast enough.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“That’s concerning.”

He laughed, leaning back against the counter as he looked at you like he was still trying to figure you out.

“You’re kinda mean,” he said.

You paused. “I’m not mean.”

“You’re mean to me.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

You looked at him for a second longer than necessary.

“…I don’t know yet.”

That made him laugh again, a lot softer this time, like it meant something more than either of you knew.

And when you both ended up eating leaning against the counter, not really bothering to sit properly, it didn’t feel like anything was happening.

Even though it was.

Because somewhere between the laughter, the closeness, the accidental touches, and the way neither of you corrected the distance anymore, something had started forming that neither of you were naming.

Not yet.

Then Gunner looked over at you again like he had been thinking about something for a while.

“We should take those pics,” he said.

You groaned immediately. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s our job,” he said.

“Unfortunately.”

He laughed, already pulling his phone out.

“C’mon,” he said. “We’ll make it quick.”

But it wasn’t quick.

Because the second you started, it turned into something else entirely, something looser and funnier and more real than either of you meant it to be, with both of you breaking character constantly, laughing too much, getting too close without noticing until it became normal again.

And when he finally took a photo of the two of you together, neither of you acting, just standing there too close with heads leaning together in a way that didn’t feel staged at all—

He looked at it for a second longer than he should have.

Then, almost quietly, he said, “Damn… we look good together.”

And it didn’t land like a joke or PR.

It just hung there. Heavy in a way neither of you moved away from.

His eyes lifted to yours.

You didn’t step back.

And then, like it had been building the entire night without either of you mentioning it, he leaned in and kissed you.

It started soft, hesitant in a way that felt like both of you were confirming something rather than starting it, but after a second his hand came to your waist, steadying you gently as the kiss deepened, and you exhaled softly into it like something in you had finally stopped resisting what had been happening all night without words.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t far.

Just enough to look at you properly, like he needed to make sure you were still there with him in it.

His hand stayed at your waist for a second longer before easing slightly, not letting go, just softening.

Then he reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear in a slower motion, almost careful, like he was testing if you’d pull away, and when you didn’t, something in his expression shifted slightly.

“You wanna stay over?” he asked, quieter now, like the question actually mattered in a way nothing else had all night.

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