11leven

Jennie's POV

The sunlight streaming through the massive windows of my penthouse felt offensive. It was too bright, too harsh—like it was deliberately trying to remind me of what happened last night.

I groaned, rolling onto my stomach, burying my face into the pillow. But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, memories of her came flooding back.

Lisa.

Lisa pressing me against the wall.

Lisa's hands gripping my waist, my thighs, my hair—everywhere.

Lisa staring into my soul with those dark, hungry eyes, her voice low and wrecked as she whispered, "You like this, don't you?"

And me—Jennie Kim—not just liking it. Begging for it.

I shut my eyes tight. Fuck.

The way I moaned her name, the way I pulled her closer, clawing at her skin, pleading for more. I wasn't just some passive participant—I was shameless. I told her I liked it. I told her exactly what I wanted, how I wanted it, how fucking good she felt inside me.

And my mouth—God.

My mouth had turned into something filthy last night.

"Harder, Lisa. Fuck me harder—don't stop."

"You like ruining me like this, don't you?"

"Don't you dare pull out—I swear to God, Lisa—"

I whimpered into the pillow, completely mortified.

What the fuck had gotten into me?

I was Jennie Kim. THE Jennie Kim. The most sought-after woman in the industry. The woman who had the world at her feet, who made men and women weak with just a glance.

And yet—

For Lisa, I had completely fallen apart.

Like I had no control over myself. Like I had wanted her to wreck me.

I groaned again, flipping onto my back and staring at the ceiling.

What did Lisa even think of me now?

Did she see me as just another girl she fucked? A good fuck, maybe, but still just another body?

Or worse—did she pity me?

Did she look at me now and think, Jennie Kim, the girl who's so desperate for me, she'd rather throw money at me just to keep me close?

I clenched my jaw, feeling frustrated.

I didn't know what the fuck was wrong with me.

Lisa had been right when she asked me last night—what exactly did I want from her?

And the worst part?

I still didn't fucking know.

I groaned, rubbing my face as more memories flooded back—this time, the aftermath.

I barely even remembered getting dressed. I was so dazed, my body still aching, my skin still tingling from her hands, her mouth, her everything.

And the embarrassment? It was unbearable.

I could still feel Lisa's eyes on me as I scrambled for my clothes, only to realize they were scattered my panty, bra and technically all my cloths are in her room.

There was no way in hell I was going to walk around naked, picking up the evidence of my complete and utter submission to her.

So instead, I grabbed the nearest thing I could—Lisa's oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. They smelled like her, felt soft against my skin, and most importantly, they covered me. I didn't even think twice. I just threw them on.

Lisa had leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, smirking as I struggled to pull the sweatpants up my sore legs.

"In a rush?" she had teased.

I had glared at her. Of course, she was enjoying this. Of course, she wasn't the least bit affected. Meanwhile, I was standing there, fully dressed in her clothes, looking like I had just rolled out of her bed—which, technically, I had.

I barely managed a "Goodbye."

And just like that, I walked out.

The drive home had been a blur.

I don't even remember the roads, the traffic, or how I managed to even keep my hands steady on the wheel. My body was wrecked, my mind was wrecked, and all I could think about was her.

The way Lisa had touched me.

The way Lisa had looked at me.

The way Lisa had fucked me.

The way I had let her do whatever she wanted to me.

I shifted in bed, my heart pounding.

What the fuck had I done?

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my fingers immediately swiping across the screen to check my notifications.

Nothing.

No message. No missed call. Nothing from Lisa.

My grip tightened around the phone. Seriously? After everything that happened last night, after the way she—

I swallowed hard, my mind flashing back to the way she had pinned me down, how effortlessly she had taken control, how she had made me beg—

I shook my head, pressing my lips together. No, focus.

Lisa didn't even check on me? Not even a simple 'Are you home safe?' or 'Are you okay?'

Was she always like this? Just fucking around and moving on like nothing happened?

The thought made my chest tighten, my irritation growing by the second.

She fucked me like that. Left me sore, trembling, completely wrecked. And now she was just—what? Ignoring me?

I stared at my screen, debating whether to text her first. But the moment the idea crossed my mind, I scoffed. No way. I wasn't going to be the one running after her.

She should be the one reaching out.

She should be the one thinking about me.

Yet here I was, obsessing over the fact that she wasn't.

Fuck it I'm gonna text her.

Jennie: Wow. You don't even check on me if I'm safe after you drained me?

I hit send, my grip on the phone so tight my knuckles turned white. My body was still sore from last night, my mind still fogged with the memories of what we did—what I let happen. And after all that, after she fucked me like that, she didn't even bother to check on me?

My phone buzzed.

Lisa: Jennie Kim?

I stared at the message, my anger flaring.

Jennie Kim? That's all she had to say?

Jennie: What?!

Lisa: Is this really you?

I let out a sharp breath, my jaw clenching.

Jennie: Are you fucking serious right now? Who else would it be?

Lisa: I don't know your number and stuff.

I scoffed. She didn't even save my number?

Jennie: Are you saying you didn't even save my number after everything?

Lisa: Did you give it to me?

I froze.

...Oh.

No, I hadn't. But still—

Jennie: You could've asked for it, genius.

Lisa: I figured if you wanted me to have it, you'd give it to me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my frustration bubbling. She was so infuriating.

Jennie: Forget it. Answer my damn question. Did you fuck someone else after I left?

I clenched my phone, my stomach twisting at the thought.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Lisa: Calm down, princess.

I gritted my teeth.

Jennie: DON'T call me that right now.

Lisa: Relax. I was busy sleeping. Someone kept me up all night, remember?

My breath hitched, the heat in my body battling the anger still simmering inside me. My mind flashed to last night—the way she touched me, the way I begged—No. Focus.

Jennie: Good.

Lisa: Why? You jealous?

I stiffened.

Jennie: No.

Lisa: Liar.

I growled under my breath, my fingers moving furiously over my screen.

Jennie: You better not. We have a deal.

Lisa: I remember, don't worry. I won't fuck around.

My grip loosened slightly, though I hated that her words actually eased something in my chest.

Jennie: Good. You better behave.

Lisa: Yes, ma'am.

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel my pulse slowing, the anger dulling.

Jennie: I hate you.

Lisa: I know, princess.

I let out a frustrated groan and threw my phone onto the bed. Why the hell did she always get the last word?

My phone barely had time to settle on the bed before it started vibrating. Lisa's name flashed across the screen.

I hesitated.

Why was she calling? We were just texting.

I stared at it, my heart pounding in my chest, then finally swiped to answer.

"What?" I snapped, still feeling the frustration from our messages.

A chuckle came from the other end. "Damn. You really are mad."

I clenched my jaw. "You just realized that?"

"I was hoping you were just pretending," she said smoothly. "So, you're really mad at me?"

I scoffed. "Lisa, I swear to God—"

"For what exactly?" she cut me off. "Because I didn't check on you? Or because you thought I fucked someone else?"

I opened my mouth, then shut it.

My stomach twisted, but I refused to let her hear any weakness in my voice.

"Both," I admitted.

Lisa hummed, like she was thinking. "So you do care what I do."

I bit my lip, my face heating up. "I just don't want you breaking the damn rules already. We literally just made the deal."

"I wouldn't."

"Good. You better not."

A pause. Then, in a softer voice, "Are you really that mad?"

I blinked. Her tone... it wasn't teasing anymore. It was something else.

I swallowed. "I don't know."

Lisa sighed. "I didn't mean to make you mad, Jennie."

Something in my chest tightened at the way she said my name.

"Whatever," I muttered.

"Hey."

I closed my eyes, gripping the phone tighter. "What?"

"I'll check on you next time."

I opened my eyes, my breath catching slightly. I could hear the sincerity in her voice.

"...You better."

Lisa chuckled. "Good girl."

I nearly threw my phone. "Goodbye, Lisa."

Her laughter echoed before the call ended. I groaned, tossing my phone onto the bed.

Why did she always have to get under my skin like that?

I groaned into my pillow, burying my face as if that would make everything disappear. Lisa was seriously driving me insane.

I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. My body still ached from last night, a reminder of everything I let her do to me. Of everything I asked her to do to me.

God.

I sat up quickly, shaking my head as if that would help me stop thinking about it.

I needed to do something—anything—to distract myself.

Reaching for my phone again, I checked my messages. Jisoo had texted me twice.

— Where are you?

— You alive?

I sighed and replied.

— I'm home. Just woke up.

Jisoo replied almost instantly.

— Damn, finally. You disappeared last night. Where were you?

I hesitated, staring at my screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

What was I supposed to say? Oh, I was busy getting fucked senseless by Lisa?

I shook my head and typed instead:

— Nowhere. Just needed time alone.

— Alone?

I rolled my eyes. Jisoo never let things slide.

— Yes, alone. Stop asking.

— Fine, fine. You coming to the studio today?

I blinked. Right. Work. My actual life.

I checked the time—almost noon.

— Yeah. I'll be there soon.

— Good. You better, superstar.

I sighed, tossing my phone onto the bed and rubbing my face.

I needed to shower. To clear my head.

But as I stepped into the bathroom, my reflection in the mirror stopped me.

My lips were swollen.

My skin had faint marks—Lisa's marks.

My breath hitched.

I stared at myself for a long time before shaking my head and turning on the water.

I needed to get a grip.

--

The rest of my day was a blur of meetings, calls, and last-minute preparations for my album drop. My team bombarded me with updates—streaming strategies, promotional schedules, finalizing album packaging, and confirming appearances.

"Jennie, we need your approval on these cover concepts."

"We need to finalize your Paris Fashion Week itinerary. Chanel wants to arrange a private fitting."

"The press release for the album is ready. Should we add a statement about your creative process?"

I nodded, answered, signed off on things, and moved from one meeting to the next like a machine. This was my life. It had always been like this.

Yet, no matter how busy I was, Lisa still lingered at the back of my mind.

I would be listening to a briefing and suddenly remember the way her lips felt against my skin. I'd be reviewing photoshoots and recall how her hands held me down like she owned me.

It was driving me insane.

"Jennie?"

I blinked, realizing my manager was waiting for my answer.

"Sorry. What?"

"I asked if you wanted to release an acoustic version of one of the title tracks as a surprise drop," she repeated, looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

I forced myself to focus.

"Yeah. That's a good idea. Let's do it."

I checked my phone between meetings, half-expecting Lisa to text.

Nothing.

It was stupid to expect anything, right? We had a deal. This wasn't about feelings.

But why did it bother me?

I shook my head and went back to work.

By the time evening came, I was exhausted. I barely had time to eat before I was rushed to a late-night vocal rehearsal.

Paris Fashion Week was next week. I had fittings, rehearsals, flights to arrange, and brand events to attend. My schedule was packed.

And still, Lisa was there.

In my thoughts. In my body.

And I hated how much I wanted her.

--

I walked into my penthouse, kicking off my heels with a sigh. My entire day had been packed—meetings, rehearsals, finalizing album details, and discussing my schedule for Paris Fashion Week. I had been busy. Too busy.

Yet, despite everything, despite all the distractions, one thing remained the same.

Lisa still hadn't texted me.

I tossed my bag onto the couch, resisting the urge to check my phone again. I had already done it a hundred times today, and every time, it was the same.

Nothing.

I wasn't mad.

Okay, maybe I was.

I was Jennie Kim. I wasn't the type to be ignored. I wasn't the type to be forgotten.

And yet, Lisa was out there, doing... whatever the hell she was doing, without a single thought about me?

I scoffed, walking to the kitchen to pour myself some water.

Maybe she was working one of her five damn jobs. Maybe she was too tired to text. Maybe she was sleeping after another 48-hour shift.

Or maybe—

I gripped the glass tighter.

Maybe she was fucking someone else.

The thought made my stomach twist in a way I really didn't like.

I set the glass down with a little too much force, my jaw clenching.

Lisa promised.

She agreed to the rules.

But did she even care about the rules? She hadn't even checked on me after I left her place. No Did you get home safe? No Are you okay?

Nothing.

Cause she don't have your number Jennie...

Still if she wants to she would..

Like I was just—

I shook my head and let out a frustrated sigh, pressing my fingers to my temple.

This was stupid.

I wasn't this person. I wasn't needy, and I definitely wasn't desperate.

I wasn't going to text her. I wasn't going to call her.

If Lisa wanted to act like I didn't exist, fine.

But why did it feel like I was the one losing?

-

I sat on the couch, the TV playing some random show I wasn't even paying attention to. My eyes were on the screen, but my mind was somewhere else. On someone else.

Lisa.

I hated that I was waiting for her to text me. Hated how my fingers kept tapping against my phone, refreshing my messages even though I knew damn well she hadn't sent anything. Not even a hey.

It had been hours.

I tossed the remote aside, crossing my arms.

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. No. I wasn't going to let this get to me. Lisa was just—

I grabbed my phone. Called her.

No answer.

I tried again.

Nothing.

By the third time, I was fuming, my grip tightening on the device. She better not be—

Then she answered.

"Hello?" Lisa's voice came through, but it wasn't just her voice. The background was loud—music, voices, laughter. A bar.

That's when I lost it.

"Where the fuck are you?"

I could hear her exhale. "Jennie—"

"No, don't 'Jennie' me. Answer me."

"I'm at work."

I scoffed. "Work? That's your work? You're in a fucking bar?"

Lisa didn't say anything, and that pissed me off even more.

"Are you entertaining someone?" I pushed. "Is this your part-time job? Sitting in some club—"

"Jennie," she interrupted, her tone firmer now. "I'm here because I need to be."

I laughed bitterly. "You need to be? So you need to be surrounded by drunk people? You need to be somewhere you can just—" I cut myself off before I said something worse.

Lisa sighed. "Are you done?"

"No, I'm not done, Lisa!" I snapped. "We have a fucking deal!"

Lisa exhaled again, her voice maddeningly calm. "The deal didn't say I had to stop working, Jennie. You didn't call me all day. You didn't tell me to be anywhere. So I went to work."

I shut my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple. She was technically right, but I didn't care.

"Then come here. Now."

Lisa was quiet for a second. "Jennie—"

"Now."

"I'm at work."

I clenched my fists. "I don't give a shit. I told you to come here, so you come here."

Lisa let out a slow breath. For the first time, she sounded a little frustrated. "Jennie—"

"Don't make me say it again, Lisa."

Another pause.

Then, finally, she sighed. "Fine. I'm coming."

And just like that, I finally felt like I could breathe again.

--

Well well well...

Want me to make this short or long kind of story?