#nettspend x reader

Nettspend x reader

Summary: Your private tape with Nettspend leaks, shocking the internet with the wild contrast to your shy persona.

A/N: This oneshot might be detailed. NOT PROOFREAD

Word count: 2600

TW: MDNI, leaked tape, recording, spanking, praise, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, food play, submissive!reader, use of daddy, choking (tell me if i forgot some)

{Taglist}

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@RapsAndRumors

#Nettspend’s team is reportedly scrambling after a private video of the rapper and his rumored girlfriend was leaked online early this morning. 🚨

While the 19 years old artist has kept his new relationship relatively low-key, fans immediately recognized the girl from a few rare public sightings and his inner circle's spam accounts. The video, which appears to be screen-recorded from a private archive, has already racked up millions of views across Twitter and Telegram despite copyright strikes taking down major links.

Sources say his management is threatening legal action against anyone reposting the media. Neither Nettspend nor his girlfriend have spoken out yet, and both have currently deactivated their Instagram comments. Thoughts? 👇

Comments

↳ NAHHH I JUST SAW IT LMAOOO HE IS WINNING THO SHE IS BAD ASFF 🔥😭 

↳ Wait isn't she the super shy girl that was hiding from the paparazzi at the airport last month?? Oh I know she is losing her mind rn i feel so bad omg 😢 

↳ leaks hitting the vault and the bedroom now?? underground scene is cooked 

↳ drop the link bro who got it 

↳ wait is that a nipple piercing??? i didn't expect that from her at all omg she's full of surprises hidden under those oversized hoodies 😭🔥 

↳ if you’re dating a famous rapper this is what comes with it shrug 🤷‍♂️ 

↳ she really held the camera herself while he was hitting it from the back 💀 that part had my jaw 

↳ I feel so bad for her :( she always looks so shy and anxious whenever the paparazzi catch them together. Imagine waking up and finding out millions of strangers are looking at you like that. 

↳ bro when he poured the honey on her i actually gasped 💀 

↳ Istg if Nett finds out who leaked this it’s over for them. But fr who has the link?? DM me 👀 

↳ she is literally body goals wtf... no wonder he never lets her post on social media he wanted her all to himself 

↳ that headboard was fighting for its life 💀 nett was not playing around he really handled that 

↳ it’s the contrast for me... she looks so innocent and quiet in public but in the video she was completely different 

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[Attachment: 1 Video File — "IMG_8842.MOV"] 

Gunner caresses your cheek with his thumb, keeping his other hand steady as he points the phone down at you. The white glare of the recording light reflects in your eyes.

"You look beautiful right now," he says, his voice low and quiet for the camera. "So pretty and so quiet for me."

You look up at him from your spot on the floor, your fingers resting on his knees. You bite your lip, your chest rising and falling as you wait.

"I'm going to make you forget about everything else," he murmurs, tilting the camera slightly to capture the way you look up at him. "I'm going to take your clothes off, put you on the bed, and touch you until you're shaking. And I'm recording all of it so you can see exactly how good you look when you're mine."

He lowers his hand to touch your chin, tilting your head back a little more. He keeps the lens focused right on your face, capturing every shift in your expression.

"Open your mouth for me, baby," he commands quietly.

You open your mouth slightly, your breath hitching as the phone flash catches the movement. Gunner runs his thumb over your bottom lip, keeping the camera perfectly still in his other hand.

"Good girl," he praises, a small, dark smile touching his lips. "So obedient for me tonight."

He pulls his hand back from your face, moving the camera down to track the front of your clothes.

"Take your shirt off," he commands, his voice dropping an octave. "Show me what you're hiding."

You reach down and pull the hem of your shirt up over your head, tossing it onto the floor. You sit there in just your bra, your face flushing under the bright light of the phone lens. Gunner leans in closer, the camera zooming in slightly on your chest.

"You're so perfect, Y/N," he murmurs, his eyes scanning your body through the screen. "Now reach back. Take off the bra."

Your hands shake a little as you reach behind your back, unhooking the clasp. You slide the straps down your shoulders and pull the fabric away, exposing your bare chest to the camera. The bright flash instantly catches the glint of the metal barbell piercing your nipple.

Gunner lets out a low, ragged breath behind the phone. He lowers his free hand to gently trace the skin just above the piercing, making your goosebumps rise.

"Fuck, look at that," he whispers, tilting the phone so the lens captures the exact contrast of his big hand against your pale skin, centering the piercing right in the frame. "You are so fucking hot.”

"Look up at the camera, Y/N," Gunner commands, his fingers lingering on your skin.

You lift your gaze to the lens, the bright light blinding you for a second.

"Tell me whose body this is," he mutters, keeping the phone steady as he records your face. "Say it out loud so the camera hears it."

You swallow hard, your face burning as you look into the light. "It's yours, Gunner," you whisper. "Everything is yours."

"Say it cleaner," he presses, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

"I want you to fuck me," you breathe out, your voice trembling. "Please."

"Good girl," he murmurs, his dark eyes flashing with satisfaction behind the screen.

He pulls his hand back and stands up, backing away a few steps while keeping the camera focused entirely on you. He frames your whole body in the shot as you sit on the floor.

"Get up," he orders quietly. "Go to the bed."

You stand up on weak legs, walking over to the mattress. The mattress sinks slightly under your weight as you climb onto it.

"Turn around and bend over for me," Gunner commands, stepping closer to the edge of the bed. He holds the phone up high, angling the camera down to capture you from behind. "Put your hands flat on the sheets and arch your back."

He holds the phone steady as he angles the camera down at your lower back. His eyes track the line of your spine down to your underwear, where the thin fabric is already darkened and soaked through from how wet you are.

"Look at that," he mutters, zooming the camera in on the damp patch. "You're dripping just from talking to me."

Without warning, he brings his free hand down, slapping your bare thigh and the side of your hip. The sharp sound echoes in the quiet room, leaving a sudden flush of red on your skin. You let out a small gasp, your hips instinctively twitching up against the sheets.

"Stay still," he commands, keeping the camera locked on the view.

He reaches onto the nightstand, grabbing a couple of the small honey packs he keeps there. With one hand, he tears a packet open with his teeth, never letting the phone drop. He tilts the packet, pouring the thick, gold honey down the center of your lower back, letting it slow-drip down over your skin, right into the crease of your ass and over your panties.

The contrast of the cool honey against your hot skin makes you shudder. Gunner leans down, bringing the camera right next to his face so the lens captures everything from his point of view.

He presses his tongue to your skin, licking the honey off in long, heavy upward strokes. He cleans it off your lower back first, his breath hot against your skin, before his hand moves to pull your panties down past your thighs, exposing you completely to the lens.

"So wet," he growls quietly into the microphone of the phone.

He pours the rest of the honey directly over your clit and into your folds. You whine, your fingers digging into the pillows as he buries his face between your legs. He licks the honey off you with a hard, flat tongue, sucking at your sweet spot and cleaning every drop off your skin until your hips are shaking uncontrollably in front of the lens.

Gunner finally pulls his face away from your wet skin, letting out a heavy breath. He steps back from the bed, keeping the camera perfectly steady and angled down at you as you lay there trembling, completely exposed.

With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants and shoves his sweatpants down his thighs, kicking them away. He grips his length, starting to stroke himself with a fast, heavy rhythm right in front of the lens. The camera catches the exact view of his hand moving over his hard length, positioned right above your arched lower back.

"Look at how hard you got me, Y/N," he growls, his voice thick and rough as he stares down at you through the screen. "You're such a dirty little slut for me. You love having a camera in your face while I treat you like a piece of meat, don't you?"

"Yes," you gasp out, your face buried in the pillow, completely losing your shyness to the heat in the room. "I want it so bad. I'm your dirty girl, Gunner."

"Say it louder," he commands, his pace quickening as he strokes himself right at the entrance of your thighs. "Tell me who runs you."

"You do, Daddy," you whine, your hips involuntarily twitching back, looking for his touch. "Please, Daddy, fuck me. Put it inside me."

"Good girl," he mutters, his jaw clenched as he leans over you.

He positions the phone perfectly, holding it high so the camera captures a clear, unobstructed top-down view of his length pressing against your wet folds. He lines himself up, and with one heavy, deliberate push, he drives himself all the way inside you.

A loud, unrefined scream tears from your throat, your back arching violently as your tight walls clamp down around him. Gunner lets out a deep, ragged groan, staying completely still for a second to let you take all of him. He tilts the phone down, zooming in on the exact point where your bodies connect, capturing the wet friction on video.

He takes two deep, heavy strokes, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the quiet room, before he leans down low over your back.

He presses the phone into your hand, forcing your fingers around the grip.

"Hold it," he pants against your ear, his breath scorching your skin as his hands grip your waist with bruising force. "Hold the camera, Y/N. Point it down at your own face. I want you to watch yourself get ruined."

You tighten your grip on the phone, your knuckles turning white as you point the lens back toward your own face. The bright recording light illuminates your flushed skin, your eyes wide and completely glazed over with pleasure.

Gunner doesn't give you a second to adjust. He grips your hips with both hands, anchoring you firmly against the mattress, and begins to fuck you with a brutal, relentless speed.

Every heavy thrust drives him impossibly deep inside you. The sheer force of his movements shakes your entire body, making the camera tremble in your hand as you try to keep it steady. The loud, wet sound of your skin smacking together fills the room, captured perfectly by the phone’s microphone.

"F-Fuck, Gunner," you sob out, your head tossing back into the pillow. You look up into the lens, watching your own mouth hang open as a string of breathless, helpless whines tears from your throat.

"Look at the camera, Y/N," he growls from above you, his voice thick and completely animalistic. He doesn't slow down for a single second, his pace turning harder and faster until the headboard is banging violently against the wall. "Watch how wide you're stretched for me. Tell the camera how hard your daddy is breaking you right now."

"You're fucking me so hard," you gasp into the screen, your toes curling as his thumb presses directly against your swollen clit with every downward stroke. The dual stimulation sends a violent jolt of electricity straight down your spine. "Daddy, please-, I'm going to come."

"Take it," he commands, his fingers digging into your waist so hard they leave dark marks as he drives himself home over and over again, completely relentless. "Take all of it on camera."

Gunner’s pace turns completely frantic, his chest heaving against your back as he drives into you with everything he has left. The friction between you is blinding, and you can feel his body tightening, the muscles in his arms locking up as he reaches his limit.

"Hold the phone steady, Y/N," he chokes out, his voice raw and breathless against your neck. "Don't drop it. Watch this."

You force your shaking fingers to grip the phone, keeping the lens focused right on your face and the wet sound of your bodies slamming together. That final, deep thrust pushes you completely over the edge. A loud, broken scream tears from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your tight walls seizing violently around him.

The intense clamping of your body is the breaking point for Gunner. He lets out a loud, ragged groan, burying his face in your hair as his body shudders. He drives himself deep one last time and holds himself there, spilling entirely inside you. The phone captures the exact moment your eyes flutter shut and your head falls back into the pillow, completely spent.

Gunner takes a few ragged breaths, his forehead resting against the back of your neck as the aftershocks of his release subside. Slowly, he pulls his length out of you with a heavy, wet slide. You let out a soft whine at the sudden emptiness, your thighs trembling as your knees sink deeper into the mattress.

Before you can completely collapse against the sheets, Gunner reaches down and takes the phone right out of your weak, shaking fingers.

He stays up on his knees, shifting his position at the edge of the bed. Keeping the camera completely steady and the white recording light shining brightly, he angles the lens down between your legs. He reaches out with his free hand, using his fingers to gently spread your cheeks, exposing your swollen, thoroughly wrecked core directly to the camera.

The bright flash catches every detail. Your cream, mixed with his thick release, is slowly overflowing and dripping heavily down your skin, wetting the dark sheets beneath you.

"Look at that," Gunner mutters into the microphone, his voice incredibly deep, rough, and thick with satisfaction. He zooms the camera in closer, capturing the slow, messy drip. "Look how soaked you are for me, Y/N. Total mess. I completely filled you up, and your pretty little pussy can’t even hold it all."

You hide your face in the pillow, a breathless, embarrassed whimper escaping your lips as you hear his words, your skin flushing red under the heat of his gaze and the camera light.

Gunner lets out a low, dark chuckle behind the phone, admiring the view on the screen for a few more seconds. He tilts the camera up one last time to capture your flushed face and messy hair in the frame before his thumb presses down on the screen, finally hitting the stop button to end the recording.

{Masterlist}

nettspend x fem celebrity nail tech

summary: nettspend sees a girl who seemingly knows all his friends. he thought she was pretty, asked about her, and found out she did nails for half the underground scene and more celebs. one appointment turns into a lot more.

smau + text fic

osamason

liked by nettspend_, praiseche, y/nusername, and 204k others

osamason love this girl fr happy 19th @y/nusername

comments are disabled for this post

mollysantana

liked by y/nusername, snowstrippers, xaviersobased, and 344k others

mollysantana my fav nail techs bday 🎂🎂

user: aw y/n is so cute

user: she is two apples tall

user: what do i need to do to get my nails done by her

↳ user: i’m pretty sure she doesn’t just do celebs nails but she is always booked </3

↳ user: fuck dudeeeeeee

user: you both are so tea wth

view all comments

xaviersobased

liked by y/nusername, ksuuvis, nettspend_, and 287k others

xaviersobased it’s y/ns day today

y/nusername: omg u did me so dirtyy

↳ xaviersobased: mb mb

user: she’s lwk chopped

↳ user: one bad angle btw

↳ user: sub 5 talking

user: mama y papa

↳ user: WTFF? y/n is literally hannahs nail tech and they are friends??

user: who is this girl everyone keeps posting

↳ user: the queen

↳ user: deadass who is she?

↳ user: she is a celebrity nail tech but she just has connections and is friends with a lot of ppl who are ug rappers

view all comments

smokedope2016 posted on his story

GUNNERS POV

Y/N POV

GUNNER POV

taglist: @ibelieveinfairyz

⌕ bun is thinking of . . . braiding gunners hair ݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆

cw .ᐟ weed, foul language, established relationship

wc .ᐟ 1k

a sharp hiss cut through the room, followed by the sharp snap of the rubber band in your hand. “sssshit, ma, you gotta pull that hard?” gunner whined from where he sat cross-legged between your thighs on the floor of your shared apartment’s living room. some south park rerun flickered across the tv behind him, casting blue light over the side of his face while the dialogue droned on as white noise.

you rolled your eyes at his bratty attitude, fingers already going back to parting through his thin ass hair. you’d told him like five times already to quit moving around, but he kept twitching every few seconds like he had ants crawling up his jeans. with how much he kept jerking his head away every time you tried to section his hair, he was lucky the rubber band snapping his scalp was the worst thing happening to him.

“then sit still,” you muttered, giving the section in your hand another tug just to hear him complain under his breath again. sure enough he huffed but didn’t move from where he’d been resting his temple against the warm skin of your inner thigh, tongue peeking past rosy lips as he carefully packed the pink sparkly bowl, the words ‘sativa slut’ printed on the side in gold font (yours, obviously) with the result of his repeated efforts of grinding his own bud.

he finally got the lighter to catch after a few stubborn tries, brows drawn together in that soft, concentrated way you always pretended not to find endearing. the bowl cracked to life under the flame, pink rhinestones blinking stupidly pretty in the low bedroom light like they knew they were being watched. like they knew they were yours.

he took a slow pull, shoulders dropping the second it hit, all that tension melting out of him in real time while your fingers kept working through his hair. section by section, careful, patient, like you had nowhere else to be. your nails skimmed his scalp every so often just to feel the way he reacted, quiet hums, little shifts closer into your touch.

“don’t make it uneven,” he muttered around the exhale, voice roughened into something soft and lazy. he tipped his head back against your stomach anyway, like he trusted you more than his own complaint. the braid already hung over his shoulder, a little messy from how often he kept moving for “one more hit,” like you weren’t literally mid-assembly.

“i told your ass to stay still, green,” you murmured, teeth catching on a micro band as you pulled it from your lips, fingers nudging his head back into place with gentle insistence. he rolled his eyes at the use of his middlename like it didn’t make something warm flicker behind them, but he still went still for you, sighing dramatically as you smoothed another section down.

“yes, ma’am,” he said quietly, too sweet to be serious. then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he tilted the pink princess bowl toward you without even looking at your face. “here, babe.”

you paused mid-braid. he didn’t move this time. just waited, patient in that absentminded way of his, thumb still resting against the lighter like he forgot he was holding anything at all. his bracelets clicked softly when he adjusted his grip, rhinestones catching on the shift of light as you finally reached for it.

when your fingers brushed his, he didn’t let go right away. just lingered there a second too long, like he liked the contact more than he was willing to admit, before letting his hand fall back into his lap with a lazy exhale.

you settled back into the pillows, braid half-finished over his shoulder, the bowl warm in your hand from him. it still carried that faint mix of burnt flower and your lip balm on the rim, the same lip balm he’d swiped from your purse thinking you hadn’t noticed. behind you, he leaned back again, compliant this time, letting you have your space. his fingers traced slow, idle patterns against your thigh while he watched you bring it to your lips like it was something holy.

he always looked at you like that. like you were the only thing happening in the room, the only thing worthy and deserving of his undivided attention at all times. you flicked the lighter, shielding the flame with your hand, and inhaled. the ember bloomed orange in the glass reflection, and his gaze followed it, slow, heavy-lidded, softened in a way that made your chest tighten a little without warning.

he didn’t look away when you exhaled either. just tracked the smoke as it curled from your mouth in thin, drifting lines, like it belonged to him as much as it did to you.

“pretty,” he murmured, barely audible.

you scoffed softly through the haze, but he was already sitting up a little, chin resting against your thigh now like gravity had decided that was his place. “c’mere,” he added, quieter this time, hand finding your wrist with an easy familiarity that made it impossible to argue.

you leaned in. this time, when you took the hit, you didn’t just hold it in. you tilted forward, close enough that he could feel your breath before you let it go, slow, deliberate, right into his mouth. he inhaled instinctively, eyes fluttering shut like it hit him somewhere deeper than it should’ve. his hand slid from your wrist to your neck like it already knew the path, thumb resting there for a second before he gently pulled you in.

the kiss came easy.

lazy, unhurried, like neither of you had anywhere else to be. the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours, and the faint taste of mint. smoke lingered between you in soft, fading warmth, caught in the space where your mouths met again, slower this time, like he was trying to memorize the shape of it.

somewhere in the mess of it, the lighter slipped from your hand into the comforter and neither of you noticed. when you finally broke apart, he stayed close, forehead resting against yours, smiling like he’d won the lottery.

“you still never finished my hair.” he murmured against your lips. you rolled your eyes, shoving his face away playfully, “shut up.”

navi. ← | ⦸

an: something a little different 0-0 i’ve never smoked weed b4 or packed a bowl so if this is like ass pls don’t say anything LMAOOOO anyways i’ve been brainrotting over nettpigtails so i wrote this at 8am, i think im gonna make a perm taglist moving forward…so everyone tagged on here issss going to be apart of that (you have no choice) and i’ll do my best to add people per request!!!

information: After Gunners live, he drives recklessly to impress you and it ends up with him up in trouble with the cops. cw: illegal activities, intoxication, speeding, kissing masterlist taglist

Gunner tossed his phone onto the console next to him, the screen going black after he abruptly cut the live stream. He had spent the last twenty minutes carefully angling the camera, successfully keeping you completely out of the frame.

Now that the audience was gone, the quiet of the car settled between you. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face as he looked over.

“Alright, ma,” he drawled, his voice low and vibrating with mischief. “You ready to see how fast this baby can actually go?”

You let out a soft laugh, your chest tight with a mix of anticipation and the heavy, strong smoke lingering in the air. The haze slightly clouded your vision, making the streetlights outside bleed into long, neon streaks.

You knew this was incredibly stupid. You knew it was dangerous. But looking at the relaxed grip he had on the wheel and the fierce, protective spark in his eyes, you knew you trusted him with your life.

You leaned back and nodded, a quiet challenge in your voice. “Floor it.”

Gunner’s eyes darkened. He slowly licked his bottom lip, giving you one last lingering look to make sure you were serious before turning his attention back to the dark stretch of asphalt ahead.

He slammed his foot down on the gas.

The engine roared to life, a powerful, guttural sound that vibrated straight through the floorboards and into your bones. The sudden acceleration threw your body hard against the leather seat. A breathless chain of laughs escaped your throat as the world outside became a dizzying blur.

Gunner glanced over at you, his smirk widening into a genuine grin as he drank in the sound of your laughter.

He started weaving through the light traffic, making sharp, aggressive turns and swerving around slower cars. He was chasing the high-pitched squeals and gasps that left your lips, feeding off your energy.

The music blaring from the speakers pulsed through the car, the heavy bass matching the frantic rhythm of your heart and only heightening the rush in your veins.

At one point, you let your head fall back and closed your eyes. With the weed heavy in your bloodstream, the sensation of speed morphed; it didn't feel like you were driving anymore. It felt like you were strapped into a rocket ship, hurtling through space.

Suddenly, the car swerved violently. Gunner took a sharp turn, and the passenger-side wheels clipped the curb hard enough to make the whole vehicle bounce.

Your eyes flew open, your fingers instantly digging into the leather seat. You whipped your head toward him.

Gunner let out a throaty snort, completely unbothered. “We good, ma. Just a little—”

Before he could finish the sentence, the sharp, wailing shriek of a siren cut through the music.

Your heart instantly dropped into your stomach, the adrenaline rush turning ice-cold. Both of your heads turned slowly toward each other, the high evaporating in a split second.

“Fuck,” Gunner muttered, the single word hanging heavily in the smokey air as flashing red and blue lights illuminated the back windshield, casting harsh, rhythmic shadows over his face.

Hesitantly, Gunner began to slow the car down, pulling toward the shoulder.

“You know you could have lost them,” you whispered, your voice tight as you watched the patrol car close the distance behind you.

He shook his head, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “You want me to get booked for a felony chase, ma?”

You bit the edge of your thumb, taking a deep, shaky breath to settle the sudden fluttering in your chest. The police cruiser pulled up close behind, its headlights blinding in your side mirrors.

Feeling your anxiety, Gunner reached across the console. His bigger, warm hand closed over yours, squeezing tightly. “Hey. I got you. You ain't do nothing wrong, ma.”

You squeezed back, looking at his profile. “I’m not worried about me,” you said softly.

His bottom lip twitched upward in a faint, grateful smile, but he shook his head, signaling you to drop it and stay calm.

The heavy thud of a car door closing echoed from behind. A male officer approached the driver’s side, his flashlight beam cutting through the smoke-filled cabin. He tapped aggressively on the glass, signaling for Gunner to roll the window down.

Gunner complied, letting the window slide down with a slow, agonizing crawl.

“Do you know what I’m pulling you over for, son?” the officer asked, leaning down slightly.

Gunner didn't say a word. He just shrugged, his expression a mask of pure indifference.

The sheer audacity of it made you have to press your lips together to bite back a laugh.

“You were going 150 in an 80,” the officer pressed, his tone hardening as he stared down at him. “Does that sound familiar?”

Gunner huffed, looking straight ahead. “Doesn't ring a bell.”

You immediately turned your head toward the passenger window, half-amused by his stubbornness and half-annoyed that he was actively digging a deeper hole.

“License and registration,” the officer demanded, clearly done with the attitude.

You turned back to Gunner. He was already looking at you, a silent, brief look of warning passing through his eyes before he faced the cop again.

“See, I don't got my physical license on me,” Gunner said, his tone entirely too casual. “I got my permit, though.”

The officer’s fingers tapped a harsh, irritated rhythm against the doorframe. “You gotta be real fucking dumb to be driving around like that without a license on you.”

The condescending tone rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned slightly toward the driver's side. “And you gotta be a real asshole to talk to someone like that.”

The officer paused, slowly ducking his head lower to peer across the seat and look at you properly. “What’d you say, sweetheart?” his voice dripped with patronizing authority.

Before he could get a proper look at you, Gunner shifted his weight, intentionally blocking the officer’s view of the passenger seat. “She ain't a part of this. Just give me the ticket, man.”

The officer stared at Gunner for a long, tense moment. He looked back over his shoulder at his partner, who was waiting by the cruiser, then turned back and tapped the heavy plastic of his flashlight against the door.

“Step out of the car for me,” the officer commanded. “We’re doing a vehicle search.”

Gunner let his head fall back against the headrest, a heavy, frustrated groan escaping his chest. “I don't got no weapons, man,” he tried to reason, his voice dropping into a tired, pleading drone.

“Based from the smell coming out of this car, you’re not only driving underage, but you’re doing it under the influence,” the officer countered, his hand already dropping to the handle. He popped the door open. “Step out of the car.”

Before the cop could even think about reaching in to grab him, Gunner swung his legs out and stood up, towering over the officer for a brief second before complying. The officer kept a firm grip on his shoulder, guiding Gunner back toward the cruiser and leaving him under the watchful eye of his partner.

A moment later, the driver’s side door of your car opened again, and the first cop reached across to unlock your door. He walked over, opened it, and gave you a firm, commanding nod. “You too, sweetheart. Out.”

You stepped onto the gravel, the cool night air hitting your skin and sending a sudden shiver through you. The officer guided you over to the front hood of the patrol car where Gunner was already waiting. You leaned your lower back against the warm metal, trying to look as unbothered as possible.

The second cop stepped up to question the two of you, pulling out a small notepad. Every question he threw your way was met with short, drippingly sarcastic answers. Your heart was pounding, but the lingering high gave you a shield of pure attitude.

“Where were you two heading in such a hurry?” the cop muttered, pen poised.

“Your mothers house,” you muttered under your breath, keeping your face completely blank.

Beside you, Gunner’s shoulder shook. He let out a sudden, sharp cough to mask the laugh bubbling up in his throat.

The officer stopped writing, his jaw tightening as he slowly pinched the bridge of his nose. The silence stretched, the cop's temper visibly running shorter and shorter the more you spoke. Finally, with a heavy, irritated sigh, he snapped his notebook shut. “Stay right here. Don’t move.”

He turned on his heel and walked back toward Gunner’s car to help with the search.

What felt like hours dragged by in agonizing, slow-motion minutes. The hum of the highway in the distance and the rhythmic, blinding flash of the cruiser’s lights became a dull, hypnotic blur. Beside you, Gunner’s foot tapped a rapid, frantic rhythm against the dirt. The attitude he’d carried earlier was slowly chipping away, the obvious anxiety of a looming arrest running hot through his veins.

Finally, the searching officer walked slowly back toward the hood of the patrol car. His eyes were narrowed, squinting at the two of you as if trying to read a secret written across your faces. He stopped right in front of you, looking between your tense expressions.

“Your car is clean,” the officer announced, though his tone was heavy with suspicion. He knew something was off, but his hands were tied. “Wait here.”

He turned and began walking back toward the driver’s side of his cruiser to run Gunner's information one last time.

The second the cop’s back was turned, Gunner’s eyes widened, and he whipped his head toward you in sheer, utter disbelief. He knew exactly what had been in that glove box.

You caught his frantic gaze and shot him a subtle wink.

“How did you...” he started to whisper, his voice cracking slightly.

You raised a single finger to your lips, giving him a warning look to hush.

A breathless, unbelieving huff of a laugh escaped Gunner’s lips. The tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by a gaze so raw and full of adoration it made your chest ache. A slow, helpless smirk spread across his face.

“God, I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with a mixture of relief and genuine awe.

You couldn't help but smile back, the warmth spreading through you — but the moment was brutally cut short.

The officer returned from his cruiser, and this time, the metallic clink of steel handcuffs dangled from his fingers. Before either of you could react, the officer stepped up, grabbed Gunner’s arm, and forcefully pulled his hands behind his back.

“Yo, what the fuck?!” Gunner yelled, his body tensing as he tried to pull away.

Your smile instantly vanished. You took a sharp step forward, your hands clenching. “What are you doing? You said the car was clean!”

“You’re currently being detained for reckless driving and operating a vehicle without a license,” the officer told him coldly, his knee pressing into Gunner's lower back to keep him still as he clicked the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists. “We’ll take you back to the station, and you can make a phone call from there.”

“That's bullshit!” you exclaimed, step for step matching the officer as he began to lead Gunner away.

The officer didn't even look at you, offering only a dismissive shrug. “Sorry, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be back home soon.”

The officer nudged Gunner forward, guiding him toward the rear door of the patrol car. Gunner groaned, his shoulders twisting awkwardly against the tight cuffs.

“Hol’ up, hol’ up,” Gunner grunted, digged his heels into the gravel and fighting back against the officer's forward momentum. He couldn't turn around fully, but his head was whipped back, his eyes locked onto yours with a sudden, desperate intensity.

You followed close behind, still cursing out the officer, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Get in the car, kid,” the officer warned, his hand reaching for the top of Gunner's head to guide him into the cramped backseat.

“Let me kiss her first,” Gunner demanded, his voice cracking with a sudden, fierce urgency.

The officer paused. He looked at Gunner, looked at you, and let out a long, exhausted groan. He took his hands off Gunner's shoulders and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture that said make it quick.

Gunner didn't waste a single second. He took a heavy step toward you, his chest nearly flush against yours.

With his hands bound behind his back, you instantly stepped into his space. You cupped his face between your hands, your fingers tangling in the soft, messy strands of his long, pinkish hair. You pulled him down, connecting your lips in a deep, chaotic, and desperately messy kiss.

Gunner let out a low, ragged groan into your mouth, his body subconsciously straining against the handcuffs as he tried to wrap his arms around you. The taste of him — smoky, sweet, and entirely familiar — flooded your senses. His tongue slid hungrily against yours, drinking you in as if he were trying to memorize the feeling to carry him through the night.

Before you were ready, a heavy hand clamped onto Gunner’s shoulder, pulling him back.

Your lips parted with a soft, reluctant pop, your mouth pouting slightly at the sudden loss of warmth. You immediately took another step forward, chasing him to press one last, lingering peck to his lips before the officer firmly guided him down and forced him into the back of the car. The heavy door slammed shut with a definitive, chilling thud.

The officer turned back to you, dusting off his hands. “You can drive the car?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded softly. “Yes.”

“Take it straight home. Go the speed limit. Don’t let me catch you around here again,” he ordered, before walking around to the driver's side and sliding into the cruiser.

You stood frozen on the shoulder of the dark road, crossing your arms tightly across your chest against the sudden chill. Through the heavily tinted glass of the patrol car’s rear window, your eyes locked onto Gunner’s.

Even through the dark glass, you could see the faint, incorrigible smirk on his face. He blew you a playful kiss, followed by a slow, reassuring wink.

The cruiser pulled out, its tires kicking up a small cloud of dust as it drove off into the night, the red and blue lights finally dying down to a distant, receding glow.

And just like that, you were standing completely alone on the quiet, empty street.

You let out a long, shaky breath you felt like you’d been holding for hours, the adrenaline finally beginning to fade. You walked back over to Gunner’s car, hopped into the driver’s seat, and shut the door, sealing yourself inside the warm, familiar cabin.

Reaching down, you slipped your hand down the front of your top and pulled the heavy, tightly wrapped baggie of weed out from where you’d tucked it safely inside your bra.

You looked down at it, a small, breathless laugh escaping your lips as you started the engine.

★彡 nsfw, 18+, fem!reader

nettspend x reader

(*´∀`)♪

You sit on the back couch of the studio wrapped in gunner’s leopard print blanket, waiting for him to finish up. The studio is filled with tons of people walking, sitting, smoking, whatever. You’re just ready to go home and spend time with gunner.

bf!nettspend x gf!reader

autors note: finally new fic w nett, I wanted to make it more angst and toxic, but here it is, not toxic fic at all

wc: 1.2k

warnings: quarrel, a little rough Gunner, the topic of drugs and alcohol, drunk sex, oral sex, reconciliation sex

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊𐙚⋆━━━⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊𐙚⋆

You and Gunner have been in a relationship for a long time. He was madly in love with you, constantly gave you gifts, was romantic, and so on. At first, you liked everything, but then your eyes started to open to other aspects.

Of course he was addicted to drugs, what else can you expect from rappers. It was like a vicious circle, first you and his friends, all of them, including nett, were high. Then there's a concert or something like that, and he gets sick by the end. Well, in the end, you're the only one helping him deal with the consequences.

And now, after all this time, you're still here. You stand backstage and wait for him to finish the concert. You were alone with three guards and a couple of his friends who weren't eager to talk to you. Most of them are unknown, but they want to become famous by being next to nett.

Finally, Gunner finishes and goes backstage. He grabs you by the shoulder, his actions seem aggressive and strange to you. You also can't see his face, because there's a lot of smoke, people, and other factors behind the stage.

And so you went into the dressing room. There were already a bunch of people you didn't know, all of them were either drunk or stoned. Nett sat you down on the couch next to some guys, and he went deeper into the room. You were sitting and nervous, this atmosphere was weighing on you, and you were afraid that your boyfriend would use drugs again. Plus, these dudes scared you as fuck, so you were trying not to look or interact with them.

When Gunner finally came back to you, you noticed his gait. You thought about alcohol, or at least weed, because otherwise he would have broken his promise to you. When he approached the couch, two guys immediately made room for him and he sat down.

You started the dialogue first, "Did you use something?" He shook his head, "Of course not, just a little weed and vodka, nothing hard ma." He reached out his hands to your cheeks and kissed your lips. You immediately turned away saying "eww", feeling the nasty taste of alcohol on his lips and the smell of cigarettes. In response, nett laughed.

But you weren't laughing, the concert had exhausted you, and you knew that Gunner shouldn't get drunk today, because there would be more performances tomorrow. That's why you told him, "Let's go to the room, I'm terribly tired." . In response, you got a questioning look, "What? We just started having fun..." You shook your head, "No, these people are going to ruin you, you're going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow." He turned away from you and started getting up, "Go alone, stop ruining my fun, you already forbade me to take drugs, and you also forbid me to hang out."

Before you could respond, nett asked the guard to take you to the car, after which he disappeared into the crowd. Walking to the car, you thought about what might happen to him, yes, he was not a little boy, but you were worried about him anyway. The trip didn't take long, and after getting out of the taxi, you quickly went up to your shared room. It was already late, so you immediately washed up and changed into your pajamas, after which you went to bed.

Unfortunately, you couldn't sleep, your thoughts were spinning too fast and you didn't notice that the phone with Gunner's chat was in your hands. You were typing really fast.

Hey, I'm really worried bout u, when will u arrive at the room?

The message was sent, but you fell asleep without waiting for a response. You were woken up by a loud sound in the hallway, you got up carefully and quietly went there. To your surprise, it was Gunner. He was sitting on the floor, trying to take off his other shoe. When you saw this, you knelt down next to him to help him take off his shoe.

"Oh, did I wake you up?...I'm sorry ma." He was very tired, but not so drunk that he couldn't think straight. Quickly taking off his remaining shoe, you stood up and he did the same, after which he hugged you as if he didn't want to let go. "I'm sorry for being rude to you, I should have gone with you..." he whispered in your ear. "It's okay, are you going to wash up?" You answered him, and he shook his head. "Then let's go to bed," you said, taking his hand and leading him into the room.

After going into the room, you lay back down while nett took off his clothes and accessories, ending up only in boxers. He lay down next to you, putting his hand on your waist. "You're so warm..." He ran his nose over your neck, "And you smell great..." He started covering your neck with kisses. "Gunner, I thought you wanted to sleep," you said mockingly, to which he snorted at your neck.

"Stop it, let's go to sleep," you turned around so that he would stop slobbering on your neck for at least a second. In response, he moved lower under the covers, so that his kisses now covered your thighs. "What are you doing?" You whimpered a little at the end, he started kissing the inside of your thigh. "I want to apologize to you," he looked at you with his crystal blue eyes from under the covers, while his fingers pulled down your pajama shorts along with your panties.

Unable to resist him, you succumbed to pleasure, and buried your hand in his hair, accidentally averting your gaze from embarrassment. "Look at me or I won't do anything," he commanded, and you obeyed. His warm breath was hitting your pussy, which made you whimper. After a couple of seconds, his mouth finally came into contact with your warmth, and his fingers began kneading your ass and thighs.

Gunner started moving his tongue at your entrance, and his nose reached your clitor a little. But he decided to start stimulating it with one hand, pressing you against his mouth with the other. You writhed with pleasure like a snake, while he continued to work his tongue. And then he started entering your hole with his tongue, licking you dry there, and the clitoral stimulation added even more pleasure to you, which is why the orgasm came to you very quickly, and nett noticed it. "Come on, cum in my mouth ma, I've been waiting for this all fucking day" he said a little indistinctly, because his mouth was busy.

Finally, your back arched and you came in his mouth. Nett crawled out from under the covers licking his lips and fingers, after which he kissed you hard, leaving your own taste on your lips. "Now for sure, good night," he said, putting his arm around your waist. "Good night."

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urusername

liked by nettspend_, leahkateb, meretmanon, and 137k others urusername haven't you heard?

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liked by killcel, ilearn2loveit, romansbbg, and 57k others ynupdatesdaily @/urusername and @/nettspend_ started following each other after days of playing like tag and talking through captions! 😀

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