One Night Can't Stand

You and Jennie Kim had been locked in this stupid, endless war for three fucking (yes), years. It started in the some recording studio somewhere in the middle of Fuckwhere. Her being the untouchable idol with the sharp tongue and sharper cheekbones, you the producer who kept getting assigned to her by her label because apparently your beats were the only ones that made her voice sound “dangerous enough.” Whatever the fuck that even means.

Every studio session turned into moments and hours of insults and yelling. She’d show up late, headphones on, rolling her eyes the second you tried to give your feedback. You’d snap back that her ad-libs were lazy, that she sounded like she was phoning it in, how she sounded like she got a goat stuck in her throat. She’d fire off something about how your mixes were basic, how you probably jerked off to your own Spotify playlists at night, how you probably commissioned it from a Soundcloud rapper. You’d laugh in her face and tell her to try hitting the note again without sounding drunk.

It never stayed professional. Text threads at 3 a.m. that started as “fix your fucking timing” turned into paragraphs of pure venom. She’d call you a talentless hack with a god complex. You’d call her a spoiled princess who couldn’t even carry a song without Auto-Tune. Yet somehow you kept ending up in the same rooms—afterparties, award shows, late-night writing camps. Every time the insults flew, the air crackled like it was one wrong word away from combustion.

Tonight was supposed to be the final straw. Some industry dinner turned into drinks, turned into the two of you in the back of a car arguing about the new track she wanted to scrap because “your drop sounds like every other basic fucking trap beat.” You told her to get the fuck out of your face if she hated it so much. She told the driver to take you both to her place instead—because apparently she wasn’t done "yelling" at you. That quotation is very important.

The second the door to her apartment slammed shut, the yelling got louder, closer, until you were chest to chest in the middle of her living room, her finger jabbing at your chest, your hand gripping her wrist so she couldn’t poke you again.

And then—fuck knows who moved first, probably both, your mouths crashed together like you were trying to kill each other with the kiss.

It wasn’t soft. It was pure fucking teeth and tongues and pure spite. Jennie’s hands fisted in your shirt, yanking you closer even as she bit your bottom lip hard enough to draw a growl out of you. You shoved your tongue into her mouth, tasting the whiskey she’d been drinking, tasting the sweet... pink venom... she always spat out. She moaned into it—loud, angry, like the sound pissed her off as much as it turned her on.

“God, you’re such a fucking mouthy little bitch,” you snarled against her lips, already tugging at the hem of her tight black top.

Jennie laughed breathlessly, the sound muffled because she refused to stop kissing you. “And you’re still a pathetic try-hard who thinks he can handle me.” Her nails raked down your chest as she shoved the shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere behind her. You yanked her top off in one rough pull, exposing the gray Calvin Klein sports bra underneath—the same one from the photoshoot she’d posted last week that had lived rent-free in your head since.

You palmed her tits through the thin fabric, squeezing hard. “These are the only decent thing about you,” you muttered, pinching her nipples until she hissed.

Jennie’s eyes flashed. “Shut the fuck up you limp-dicked hack.” She said, as she was already shoving your jeans down your hips, nails scraping your skin. You kicked them off along with your boxers, cock springing free—thick, heavy, leaking at the tip from how hard she’d made you just by existing. She looked down at it, smirk curling her lips even as her pupils blew wide.

“Still so fucking pathetic and tiny,” she said, voice dripping with fake disappointment. Her hand wrapped around your shaft and squeezed—tight enough to make you grunt.

You laughed darkly, crowding her back against the wall. “Yeah? Then why the fuck are you drooling princess?” You hooked your fingers into the waistband of her matching gray Calvin Klein panties and ripped them down her legs along with the soft lounge pants she’d changed into after the dinner. She stepped out of them, leaving herself in nothing but that sports bra. Her body was insane—toned stomach, long legs, that perfect round ass you’d always pretended not to notice.

She didn’t give you time to ogle. Jennie’s hand tightened around your cock again, harder this time, thumb swiping over the leaking head like she owned it. “What? This pathetic little thing? Barely fills my hand. You really think you can fuck me with this, loser?” She said as she squeezed it tighter.

Your jaw clenched. “Keep squeezing like that and I’ll paint your fucking face before you even get on your knees, you greedy slut.”

Jennie’s eyes narrowed, but her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She squeezed harder, almost painfully, then used that grip to yank you forward by the dick like a goddamn leash. You stumbled after her, cursing under your breath, as she dragged you down the short hallway into her bedroom. Still pulling you by your fucking cock.

The lights were low, white sheets already rumpled on the massive bed—the same bed from every late-night selfie she’d ever posted. She shoved you hard in the chest, and you let yourself fall back onto the mattress, cock slapping against your stomach.

Before you could even push up on your elbows, or say a smartass comment, Jennie was crawling between your spread thighs like a predator. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, eyes locked on your cock like it was the only thing she ever wanted. She didn’t tease. She wrapped those pretty lips around the head and sank down in one hungry slide, taking you straight to the back of her throat like she was trying to prove a point.

“Fuck!... Jennie,” you groaned, hand flying to her hair.

She pulled off just long enough to spit on your cock, stroking it fast and messy. “So fucking tiny,” she mocked, voice hoarse already, before she dove back down. Her mouth was hot, wet, relentless. She sucked like she was starving for it, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling around the underside while she bobbed fast and sloppy. Spit dripped down your shaft, coating your balls. She gagged herself on you deliberately, throat constricting tight, then pulled back with a wet pop just to insult you again.

“Pathetic. Can’t even reach the back of my throat properly,” she lied, her eyes were already watering. She slapped your cock against her tongue, then swallowed you again, deeper, nose pressing to your pelvis as she hummed around you like the vibration alone could piss you off more.

You fisted her hair tighter, hips twitching up. “You’re not even that good at this, you know that? Just a desperate little cocksucker who talks too much.” But your voice cracked because fuck, her mouth was perfect—tight, sloppy, passionate like she was trying to suck the soul out of you through your dick. She moaned around you, the sound filthy and angry, and doubled down. One hand cupped your balls, rolling them, the other stroking what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She was drooling everywhere, spit running down her chin, onto the sheets, but she didn’t care. She just kept sucking harder, faster, like she was personally offended by how big your cock is.

You felt your balls drawing up way too fast. “Jennie—fuck—I’m gonna—”

She pulled off with a wet gasp, lips shiny and swollen, and looked you dead in the eye as she jerked you fast. The first thick rope of cum shot across her tongue. She let it fill her mouth, and instead of swallowing, then pulled back and spat it right onto your face—hot, messy, dripping down your cheek and onto your lips.

You tasted yourself. You taste pretty good.

“You fucking bitch,” you snarled, flipping her over so fast she yelped. You manhandled her onto her stomach, ass up, face pressed into the pillows. Rubbing the soft mound of her ass before smacking it harshly.

One. Two. Three.

Jennie moaned into the pillow, back arching. “Harder, you pussy— I’ve had better spankings from my stylists—”

You cut her off with four, five, six—each one loud and stinging, her ass blooming pink under your palm.

“Still running your mouth?” you growled, spanking seven, eight, nine. Her skin was hot, marked with your handprints. Ten, eleven, twelve—you counted them out loud, each slap harder than the last until her ass was a glowing, perfect red and she was whimpering, thighs trembling.

You leaned over her, cock still hard and slick against her ass, and kissed the back of her neck. Then you bit down—hard—right where her shoulder met her throat. Jennie gasped, then moaned loud as you sucked a dark mark into her skin.

“Fuck! Fucking prick!! that’s gonna be hell to cover, you asshole,” she hissed, but she pushed back against your cock anyway, grinding like she needed it.

You didn’t care. You bit harder, teeth sinking in, tongue soothing the sting right after. Your hand slid around to her throat, squeezing just enough to make her breath hitch. “Good.” You sucked another mark lower, on her shoulder blade, then another on the side of her neck. Your cock was leaking against her ass the whole time.

Jennie’s voice cracked. “You’re such a fucking caveman— ah— shit, harder—”

You flipped her onto her back in one rough motion. Her legs fell open automatically, sports bra still on but pushed up so her tits spilled out. You attacked her body like you’d been starving for it for years—because, to be fair, you had. You bit down on the side of her neck again, then kissed down her collarbone, sucking a bruise right above her left tit. Your mouth closed around her nipple, teeth grazing, tongue flicking until she was arching off the bed.

“Not even all that,” you lied, sucking harder. “These tits are overrated.”

Jennie’s hand fisted in your hair, yanking you lower. "Says the one sucking on them like a desperate virgin... FUCK! idiot.”

You moved down her stomach, biting and licking every inch, leaving a trail of marks. Her abs flexed under your mouth. You kissed her hip bones, then spread her thighs wider, biting the soft skin of her inner thighs hard enough to make her jolt.

“Fuck— you’re gonna leave marks everywhere, you animal—”

"Bitch that's the point." You said as you dove in.

Your mouth sealed over her pussy like you were trying to devour her. She was soaked—dripping down her thighs, clit swollen and begging. You sucked it into your mouth hard, tongue flicking fast, two fingers shoving inside her without warning. Jennie’s back bowed off the bed, a loud, broken moan tearing out of her throat.

“Shit— your tongue is still useless— fuck— right there—” You could feel her thighs shaking already, her walls clenching around your fingers like she was trying to pull you deeper. You ate her like you actually hated her—messy, hungry, passionate. You licked broad stripes up her slit, then sucked her clit again, humming against her so the vibration shot straight through her. Your fingers curled, rubbing that spot inside her while your free hand gripped her ass, spreading her wider.

Jennie’s hands flew to your hair, hips grinding against your face. “You’re— ah— you’re so fucking bad at this— don’t you dare stop— fuck— I hate how good your mouth feels, you prick—”

You pulled back just enough to spit on her clit, then dove back in, sucking harder, fingers thrusting faster. Her juices coated your chin, your tongue, dripping everywhere. You moaned into her pussy, the sound filthy and low, and felt her start to tighten.

You weren’t even halfway done. You wanted her ruined before you even fucked her properly.

You nibbled her clit—gentle teeth, then hard suction—while your fingers pumped in and out, curling relentlessly. Jennie’s legs locked around your head, thighs squeezing your ears as she started to shake.

“Fuck— you’re gonna make me— don’t you fucking dare— you tiny-dicked bastard— I’m— I’m—”

Her words dissolved into a loud, shameless cry as she came hard on your tongue, pussy gushing, walls pulsing around your fingers. You kept licking her through it, sucking every drop, growling against her soaked folds like you could eat her forever.

Jennie’s hips jerked, overstimulated, but she didn’t push you away. She just panted, chest heaving, dark hair a mess on the pillows, body covered in your bite marks and handprints, gray bra askew, pussy still twitching against your mouth.

You lifted your head, lips shiny with her, and smirked up the length of her body.

“Still think my mouth is useless, princess?”

Jennie’s eyes were glassy, lips parted, but the fire was still there. She grabbed your hair and yanked you up, grabbing you by the scalp, and then crashing her mouth to yours so she could taste herself on your tongue.

As your tongue tangled with hers, tasting her own and your cum, Jennie moaned into the kiss like she hated how much she loved it. Her tiny body was already writhing under you, legs locked around your waist, nails digging trenches down your back as she ground her soaked pussy against your cock—still rock-hard and throbbing from the way she’d spat your cum on your face earlier.

“Get that useless thing the fuck inside me already, you useless prick,” she snarled against your lips, biting down hard enough to draw blood. “Or are you gonna cum on my stomach like a fucking teenager scared of a pregnancy scare?"