yandere ! mei mei , soft dom! utahime , dom! shoko x reader | jjk female harem
cws ; this story is intended for mature audiences 18+ only and contains explicit sexual content, strong yandere themes, and psychological manipulation. the narrative includes elements of emotional coercion, possessiveness, and a female reader caught in a complex, obsessive harem dynamic involving yandere! mei mei, soft dom! utahime, and dom! shoko.
expect scenes involving stalking, mind games, and power imbalances. utahime exhibits a soft, nurturing dominance, while shoko leans into a more assertive, commanding dom role. mei mei’s affection manifests through intense obsession, calculated control, and manipulative seduction.
the fic explores dubcon-adjacent dynamics, jealousy, rivalry tension, restraint, and power play. readers can also anticipate voyeuristic moments, intimate grinding, oral (f!receiving), and a general atmosphere of dark, romantic thriller energy. if you enjoy slow-burn tension, psychological seduction, and dangerously possessive love, this one’s for you.
summary ; three women. three obsessions. one dangerous heart caught in the middle.
you never meant to become the center of their attention—never asked for the lingering stares, the twisted affection, or the secrets whispered in the dark. but now you're theirs, whether you want to be or not.
mei mei watches from the shadows, a predator cloaked in silk and sharp smiles. she doesn’t ask for love—she takes it. your time, your choices, your body… they belong to her.
utahime touches you like a prayer, all soft control and whispered promises. gentle on the outside, but underneath… she’d burn the world just to keep you safe in her arms.
shoko doesn’t play nice. she smokes like she breathes boredom and fucks like she owns you. she doesn’t need to chase—you always come back, aching, confused, addicted.
caught between their games, you're forced to make a choice.
but when every option is obsession...
do you really have one?
The envelope was heavier than usual. Ivory, smooth, and sealed with a crimson wax insignia that looked like it belonged in a movie—not real life. My fingers trembled a little as I tore it open, heart knocking inside my chest like it already knew what was written inside.
I read the first line over and over again, barely processing the rest of the letter. But once the words sunk in, a small breath escaped my lips. Relief. Then joy. Then something else—something sweeter, lighter. Hope.
A financial specialist. Full-time. Benefits. A new city. A fresh start.
My smile grew so wide it hurt. I turned in a small circle in my tiny apartment, clutching the letter to my chest. Sunlight poured in through the half-open blinds, casting golden stripes across the room, and for the first time in months, I felt like everything might actually be okay.
After everything I went through with him—after losing my job, my peace of mind, my entire sense of self—I had finally carved out a new path.
I sank into the couch, still grinning like an idiot, and pulled out my phone. My fingers flew across the screen as I opened my messages.
Me: I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!! 😭😭😭
Utahime’s name lit up almost instantly.
Utahime: Drinks.. on me?🍷💅
I laughed, clutching the phone to my chest. That emoji combo was so her. Sassy, celebratory, and just what I needed.
I typed back quickly, still giddy.
Me: YES. I’ll meet you at our usual place. First round’s on me.
The truth was, I didn’t know exactly what this new chapter would look like. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t scared of the unknown.
The bar was dim and warm, the kind of place that always smelled like honeyed whiskey and lemon peels. Our favorite spot. The string lights overhead glowed amber as I pushed through the door, eyes already scanning for Utahime’s familiar figure.
She was already there—tucked into a booth near the back, two drinks waiting on the table, her lipstick perfectly applied and barely smudged at the edge of the glass. She always looked effortlessly put together, even when she swore she wasn’t trying.
I smiled, walking over quickly. "You beat me."
Utahime stood, wrapping me in a hug that lasted a beat longer than usual. Her arms were warm, grounding. For a second, I let myself sink into it—into her familiar perfume, the soft press of her cheek against mine.
"You got the job, of course I beat you here. I had to celebrate properly." She grinned, stepping back as we both slid into the booth.
"I still can’t believe it," I said, reaching for the drink she’d clearly ordered for me. My favorite—gin, citrus, sugar rim. "It feels surreal."
"Well, it’s real now. You’re officially out of the hellhole."
I laughed, nodding. "God, yeah. Out of the city, out of the mess, out of his shadow."
Her smile faltered just slightly, but she covered it with a sip of her drink. "You deserve this. Every second of it."
I watched her for a moment, suddenly aware of the way her fingers curled around the glass, her nails painted deep red to match the tint of her lips. She looked tired, but beautiful. The kind of beautiful that didn’t need effort.
"So," she said, leaning in, "what’s the plan? Are you finally going to let loose a little? Maybe start dating again?"
I groaned, leaning back in the booth. "I don’t know. The idea of dating still makes me want to break into hives. I just want to exist without anyone else trying to control my every move."
Utahime chuckled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Fair enough."
We talked for hours—about the move, my new job, the chaos of the summer. I told her about the time I got caught in the rain during a thunderstorm with all my boxes half-unpacked, how I lived off gas station snacks for a week, how I cried the first night I slept in my new apartment because it was the first time I felt safe.
She listened to every word, eyes soft, smile wistful. She always listened like that. Like everything I said mattered.
And somewhere between our third round of drinks and her story about a botched first date she never followed up on, something shifted.
She looked at me, really looked at me, her expression more serious than I was used to.
"I’m really proud of you," she said quietly. "You made it out. You started over. You’re... brave."
I felt my stomach twist in a way I didn’t expect.
"I wouldn’t have made it without you," I replied, my voice just as low. "You were the only person who stuck around. I hope you know how much that means to me."
Utahime looked down, brushing a thumb over the rim of her glass. "I was never going to leave you. I couldn’t."
There was something unsaid in the silence that followed. A glance. A flicker. A feeling I couldn’t quite name.
But before I could ask—before I could say anything—she laughed softly, shaking her head like she had just remembered herself.
"Come on," she said, raising her glass again. "To new beginnings."
I clinked mine against hers.
"To new beginnings," I echoed, pretending I didn’t notice the way her gaze lingered just a second too long on my lips.
The air outside was heavy with summer heat, even as the sun dipped past the skyline. We were both a little buzzed—okay, more than a little. Tipsy giggles spilled from our mouths as we stumbled side by side down the quiet street, shoes clicking against pavement and arms occasionally brushing.
"Your place is closer," Utahime had said, cheeks flushed, her voice a little breathier than usual. "And I’m not in the mood to fight off creeps tonight. Let me crash with you?"
"Please," I laughed, nudging her playfully. "You say that like I’m not secretly obsessed with our sleepovers."
Her smile faltered for just a second. A flicker. Quick. If I hadn’t known her for years, I might’ve missed it.
The walk was short, filled with laughter and off-key harmonies to some song we made up mid-step. When we reached my building, I unlocked the door with a dramatic flourish, grinning back at her as I swung it open.
"Welcome to my kingdom," I announced, voice still drunk on gin and nostalgia.
Utahime walked in slowly, shoulders tense beneath her cardigan. Something about her demeanor shifted. The air around her went quieter.
"You okay?" I asked, toeing off my shoes and heading toward the kitchen. "I’m grabbing us some water before we turn into dehydrated zombies tomorrow."
She mumbled something I didn’t catch.
I turned back, the fridge door still open, and stared at her.
She was standing in the middle of the living room—perfectly still. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and her gaze was fixed on the floor, not meeting mine.
"Utahime?" I asked again, gently this time. "Hey… what’s going on?"
She blinked quickly, like she hadn’t realized she was being watched. Then her eyes met mine, wide and glassy. Her lip quivered slightly before she forced a half-laugh.
"Sorry. I just..." She shook her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she wanted to smile but couldn’t quite pull it off. "I think the drinks are just hitting harder than I thought."
But I knew her better than that.
I walked over slowly, water bottles still in hand, and offered one to her. "Sit down. Breathe. You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to."
She took the bottle but didn’t sit. Instead, she looked at me for a long, unspoken moment. Her fingers gripped the plastic tighter than they needed to.
"You always make it so hard to forget," she whispered suddenly.
Utahime’s cheeks burned. She took a shaky breath, eyes darting to the side.
"Nothing. I mean—forget I said anything. I just meant..." She paused again. "You don’t see it. And that’s fine. It’s always been fine."
I stepped closer, heart pounding, something electric and unfamiliar stirring under my skin.
"See what?" I asked quietly.
She looked up at me then, finally. And in her eyes was everything she’d kept hidden for years.
The apartment was quiet now. Just the hum of the fridge and the soft flicker of city lights spilling through the blinds. I handed Utahime a pair of spare pajamas—an old oversized T-shirt and shorts—and she took them with a small, grateful smile, still a little pink from the alcohol.
I peeled off my jeans first, not thinking twice about it—we’d known each other forever. She’d seen me hungover, heartbroken, sick with the flu, even mid-sob after my ex ruined everything. This wasn’t new.
But tonight… something felt different.
Her gaze lingered longer than usual as I slipped out of my tank top, swapping it for a soft, worn sleep shirt. Her hands fumbled a bit with the waistband of the shorts I gave her.
"You good?" I asked playfully as I slid under the covers.
Utahime froze in the middle of tugging her shirt down, eyes wide and face flushed like she’d swallowed fire.
"You look like you’ve seen a ghost," I teased, laughing as I fluffed my pillow and patted the empty space beside me.
She let out a shaky breath and sat on the edge of the bed, water bottle abandoned on the nightstand. Her shoulders were tense, her hands twisted in the hem of her shirt.
"Can I ask you something?" she said suddenly, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
I blinked, nodding. "Of course."
"Have you ever… been with a girl?"
The question made me pause. I sat up, brushing hair from my face.
"Besides that one time I kissed one at a party for a dare?" I chuckled. "Not really."
Her head tilted, eyes locked on mine.
"But have you ever wanted to do something with a girl?"
I shrugged, watching her carefully. The strap of my tank slipped from my shoulder, but I didn’t fix it.
"I don’t know," I said with a slow smile. "Depends. Why?"
Utahime’s eyes dropped to the bedspread. She exhaled again, still pink, still a little too still.
"Because… I haven’t. Kissed a girl, I mean.” She lied.
That made me laugh, maybe more than I should’ve. "Wait. Never?"
She rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed. "No. But I’ve always wanted to try."
The laughter cooled in my throat.
I shifted on my knees, facing her now—our thighs almost touching, breath mingling in the quiet tension of the room. I looked at her closely, really looked. She was nervous. Blushing. Vulnerable in a way I’d never seen.
And maybe the alcohol was making me bold. Or maybe something in me had always wondered.
I tilted my head, lips curling slightly.
"Well," I said, voice lower now, more careful, more curious. "As your best friend… do you want to try?"
She looked at me—eyes wide, mouth slightly open, stunned into silence.
And the space between us felt like a spark waiting to catch fire.
The room was quiet, suspended in something fragile and heavy. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel the warmth of the moment pressed against my skin like silk—unspoken and intoxicating.
Utahime didn’t look away.
Our lips met in the middle—slow, warm, a delicate brush that made my stomach twist with something I couldn’t name.
She exhaled against my mouth like she’d been holding her breath for years.
The kiss deepened almost naturally, like we had both been waiting for it longer than we realized. Her fingers reached up, trembling at first, then steady as they cupped my cheeks, pulling me closer.
That’s when her tongue slipped past my lips.
My mouth parted in surprise, and she took the opening—curious, gentle, but hungry.
The taste of her. The rhythm. The heat of her hands cradling my face like I was something fragile—something she didn’t want to break.
My body moved without thinking, climbing into her lap as my knees sank into the bed on either side of her hips. Her breath caught when I settled above her, our chests almost touching. Her hands fell to my waist, riding up the edge of my tank top, her fingertips grazing bare skin.
There was no fear in it. Just curiosity. Just something real and raw and so undeniably present.
She looked up at me with lips parted and eyes heavy, her thumb brushing just under the hem of my shirt like she was waiting for permission.
Because I didn’t need to.
My hands slid into her hair, my hips shifting slightly in her lap, and I kissed her again—slower this time, like I wanted to remember how it felt to be wanted like this.
Like we were finally letting go of everything we were too afraid to say.
Just two girls in a quiet room, hearts loud, hands curious—finally trying something we had only ever dreamed of.
Her lips parted from mine with a soft, breathless sound.
The air between us crackled—thick, warm, trembling with tension. I stayed in her lap, straddling her, chest rising and falling beneath my tank top as we both tried to catch our breath. Utahime looked up at me. Hair tousled. Lips swollen. Eyes wide and glassy. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.
I saw the question there, lingering in her gaze, begging in silence. Can I?
She was asking. With a glance. With the way her hands hovered at my ribs, unsure, reverent.
I nodded slowly, breath caught in my throat. And then I reached down and lifted my tank top over my head, tossing it somewhere beside the bed. The cool air kissed my skin, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat rushing to my cheeks. She swallowed, hands trembling slightly as they reached behind me. I felt the soft pull of my bra strap, the subtle snap of the clasp unhooking.
The straps fell from my shoulders. Then the fabric. And suddenly, I was bare in front of her. Utahime just stared, stunned into silence, her breath shaky and slow. Her eyes traced every inch of me like I was something sacred. Then—hesitantly, almost shyly—she leaned in.
Her tongue flicked out, soft and wet, brushing over one nipple. A sound escaped my mouth, sharp and airy. I hadn’t meant for it to—but I couldn’t hold it back. My hands flew to her shoulders for balance as I bit down on my lip, head tipping back slightly.
Her mouth closed around it gently, suckling, teasing, exploring. My face burned. My body reacted without thought, grinding subtly into her lap, hips rolling forward in rhythm with her touch. "Utahime," I whispered, my voice cracking as I fought to stay composed.
But I wasn’t. I was unraveling in her hands. And for the first time in a long time… I didn’t want to stop.
Clothes came off like they were made of smoke—tossed, discarded, forgotten. The alcohol buzz had long faded into something warmer. Heavier. Real.
Utahime was on top of me now, breath shaky, her skin flushed and glowing in the soft light. Her hands explored like she had waited forever—eyes locked on mine as her thighs slid around my hips. She hovered above me for just a second, then slowly, deliberately, lowered herself until our bodies aligned.
The moment our heat met—skin against skin, slick and bare—I gasped. My hips jolted upward on instinct, chasing the friction.
"Wait," I whispered, breathless. My brows pinched slightly, eyes searching hers. "Have you… done this before?"
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned in, cupping my face with both hands like I was something she’d been desperate to touch her whole life. Her lips brushed against mine, soft at first—then firmer, hungrier.
"Shut up," she whispered against my mouth, and kissed me again.
Our hips pressed. Rubbed. Slid.
Her clit against mine in a slow, fluid grind that pulled a strangled cry from my throat.
I arched beneath her, my hands gripping her waist, fingers digging in for something to hold onto. The sensation was sharp, overwhelming, completely unlike anything I’d ever felt. It wasn’t just pleasure—it was electric.
Utahime moaned softly above me, forehead resting against mine as our movements synced. Her breath hitched every time our bodies met in just the right way.
This wasn’t something I wanted to suppress.
This was something I wanted to drown in.
And as our bodies moved in perfect rhythm, heat building fast between us, I realized…
Whatever this was—whatever it became—it wasn’t just an experiment.
The room was heavy with heat and breath and the faint hum of the city outside, forgotten somewhere beyond the fogged windows.
Utahime gritted her teeth as her rhythm faltered—hips grinding against mine one last time, her body trembling with release. I clenched my thighs tighter, holding onto her with everything I had, feeling the sharp, warm unraveling burst through me like lightning in my veins.
It was wet. It was messy.
The sheets beneath us were damp with our slick, our thighs slick and trembling, hearts pounding against the silence.
Utahime collapsed forward for a moment, her breath shaky against my collarbone, her hair sticking to her cheek. I just stared up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling, lips parted, dazed.
She slowly sat up, flustered, brushing her hair behind her ears as she avoided my gaze. Her cheeks were stained deep red, a bashful smile tugging at her lips as she shifted beside me on the bed.
I turned my head to look at her, eyes still wide, my body still warm from the aftershocks.
"...Are you into girls?" I asked softly.
She sucked in a breath through her nose, then laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "Yeah. I mean… I knew back in high school. You know how it is—softball girls, team sleepovers. And then I started experimenting a little more when I got older."
She shrugged like it was no big deal, but her face was bright pink. "Honestly… I think I always knew when I was younger. But it’s whatever."
I snorted, pulling the sheet up over my chest as I stretched out beside her. "Mhm… so you lied to me earlier. You didn’t just want to kiss a girl—you wanted to do all that, too."
Utahime rolled her eyes but smiled, biting her bottom lip. “Okay, maybe.. just maybe your right.”
"Uh-huh," I teased, nudging her with my foot. "Well, now you’ve kissed a girl… and done a lot more."
She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back beside me. "I mean, sure… maybe a little fingering in college. But this?"
She turned her head toward me, smirking. "Let’s just say… it looks like I turned you out."
I laughed, loud and shameless, the kind of laugh that felt real—unfiltered.
Seven days since Utahime and I blurred the lines between best friends and something else entirely. But surprisingly… it wasn’t weird.
There were no awkward silences. No stolen glances. No tension dripping off the edges of our conversations.
In fact, it felt like it never even happened.
Utahime was still her usual self—sarcastic, loud when drunk, loyal to a fault—and I? I threw myself into prepping for my first real assignment at the new job. It was easier to focus on spreadsheets and balance sheets than decipher what one night under the sheets meant.
I walked into the sleek, glass-paneled building of Kyoto Metropolitan Enterprises with a tote bag over my shoulder and fresh nerves bubbling in my stomach.
The lobby gleamed like polished chrome, and the scent of expensive cologne and too-strong coffee hung thick in the air. My heels clicked with each step as I followed the signs for the Finance Department.
Black hair, short and blunt, tucked neatly behind her ears. She had thin-rimmed click glasses, dark brows, and an expression that didn’t change when she saw me.
"Maki Zenin," she said flatly, extending her hand. Her grip was firm—borderline aggressive. "Assistant Supervisor. You're the new advisor, right?"
"Y/N," I replied, giving my best polite smile.
She nodded once, eyes flicking over me with a quick, unreadable scan. “Try not to be useless.”
Before I could ask whether that was a joke or not, she turned sharply on her heel and started walking.
So that’s how it was going to be.
I followed her down the hall, the tension sharp enough to slice through the marble walls.
"You’ll be reporting to me directly for daily tasks," Maki continued without looking back. "But the department head is Shoko Ieiri. She’s in her office."
My stomach did a small somersault at the mention of the Shoko Ieiri. I’d heard the rumors.
Smoked indoors even though she wasn’t supposed to.
But also one of the best forensic accountants in the country, with a reputation for keeping this department from collapsing in on itself.
Maki pushed open the office door without knocking.
"New hire’s here," she said, stepping aside.
Shoko was sitting with her feet kicked up on her desk, cigarette in hand, a thick folder resting on her lap. She looked up with the laziest eyes I’d ever seen on a professional.
Her voice was raspy, tired, but… not cold.
There was something distant yet oddly warm in the way she nodded at me.
"Welcome to hell," she added, exhaling a long stream of smoke out the cracked window. "We’re glad you’re here."
And just like that, I realized—
This job was going to be everything but ordinary.
Shoko finally sat up straight in her chair, stubbing out her cigarette in a tray already crowded with others. The haze of smoke hung in the air like a warning, but she brushed it away casually as she reached into her drawer and pulled out a shiny new name badge.
"Y/N," she said, flicking the badge toward me. "Welcome to the Finance Department at Kyoto Metropolitan Enterprises. Try not to drown."
I caught it with both hands, smiling and bowing respectfully.
"Thank you, I won’t let you down."
She studied me for a moment, head tilted slightly to the side like she was trying to read more than just the nervous smile on my lips. Then she leaned back, arms crossed.
"Good. Because we’ve got our first financial proposal meeting next week with corporate. Big pitch. You and your team are responsible for presenting the strategy and breakdowns."
My eyes widened slightly. That was fast.
"You’ll be collaborating with some of the leads across departments. They’ll report to you for this project."
She handed me a tablet with the roster. "Maki’ll walk you through the prep docs, but meet your team today. Get them aligned."
I glanced at the list on the screen. Familiar names—some of them surprising.
Team Lead: Y/N (Financial Specialist)
Team Members:
Yuji Itadori — Data Compilation Analyst
Megumi Fushiguro — Legal Budgeting Coordinator
Nobara Kugisaki — PR & Image Consultant
Toge Inumaki — Expense Forecasting Assistant
Panda — Risk Analysis Tech (AI interface consultant?)
Shoko gave me a knowing smirk. "You’ll see."
The open workspace was buzzing with chatter when I walked in, tablet in hand and nerves bundled tight in my chest. Maki had disappeared somewhere with her arms full of binders, leaving me to introduce myself on my own.
I spotted a pink headband first—Nobara, laughing as she leaned back in her chair with her boots propped up on the edge of her desk.
Next to her, a serious-looking guy with dark spiky hair—Megumi—glanced at his screen with a furrowed brow.
Across the room, a tall guy with pink hair—Yuji, I recognized him from the internal org chat—was balancing a coffee cup on his head while trying to type.
Behind him, a… very large panda. Typing. On a laptop.
He looked up and waved. "Yo. You the newbie?"
I cleared my throat and took a small step forward, voice steady despite the chaos around me.
"Hi, everyone. I’m Y/N. I’ll be your lead for the upcoming financial proposal. I’m looking forward to working with all of you."
Yuji stood up instantly, grinning wide as he offered a handshake. "You don’t look scary at all! That’s a great start."
Nobara smirked. "Better than the last lead. That guy cried on day three."
Megumi gave a silent nod in greeting, while Toge—quiet in the corner with a tea thermos—just gave a thumbs up.
"Panda’s a risk analysis beast," Yuji whispered conspiratorially. "Don’t let the fur fool you."
I chuckled under my breath. This wasn’t what I expected.
But as they all turned their attention toward me, waiting for direction, I realized—this team wasn’t just quirky.
They were sharp. And if I played it right, we were going to crush next week’s meeting.
"Alright," I said, rolling my shoulders back with a small grin. "Let’s get to work."
"You guys already started on the mock proposal?" I asked, reaching out to grab the first stack of binders Yuji handed me. They were thick, color-coded, and already kind of intimidating.
"Yeah," Nobara said, chewing on the end of her pen. "We pulled data from last quarter and started formatting the layout. Fushiguro took lead on budgeting."
"Of course he did," I muttered, flipping open the first binder.
I started reading, letting my eyes scan over the numbers. The deeper I got, the more my brows began to knit. By the third binder, I was visibly squinting, my fingertips flipping faster, my pulse picking up.
"This is way out of budget," I said flatly, holding up one of the pages. "Like… way out. We can’t afford half of this. Who did this section?"
All fingers pointed—directly at Megumi.
He didn’t even look up from his seat. He just rolled his eyes, arms folding across his chest as he muttered, "What do you know? You’re just starting."
I turned to him, blinking slowly. "You gave the PR department a fifty-thousand yen margin for uniform aesthetics and an eighty-thousand yen surplus for—what is this—interior mood lighting for client ambiance?"
"It’s called long-term image projection," Megumi said, cool and unbothered.
"And I get that," I replied, holding up the original proposed budget side-by-side. "But not when it’s four times the pre-approved cap. The numbers don’t lie. We need to scale this back before corporate laughs us out of the building."
I exhaled slowly, then dragged over a whiteboard and clicked open a marker.
"Let’s go piece by piece. First: cut the lighting surplus by 60%. We’ll reclassify that as optional aesthetic additions under quarterly review. Second: uniforms stay, but custom tailoring? Gone."
Everyone began scrambling—typing, scribbling, highlighting as I listed item after item. For the next several hours, we tore through every line.
By the time the sun dipped low and the overhead office lights dimmed into a soft golden hue, it was just me and Nobara left in the conference room.
Shoko popped her head in, holding her usual cigarette in hand.
"You two better leave soon unless you want to get escorted out by security. They’re jumpy after hours."
"Right," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Just finishing the last couple slides."
Nobara yawned dramatically, slamming her laptop shut. "I’m getting instant ramen after this. I deserve it."
I chuckled, grabbing my bag. "Bathroom first, then I’m heading out."
The hallway was quiet, lined with glass offices and dark-tinted doors. I moved quickly, but halfway there, I slowed.
Because someone was coming toward me.
She had long, snowy white hair, cascading in soft waves down her back. Her figure was all sharp curves poured into a wine-colored dress that hugged her hips and cinched perfectly at her waist. Her heels clicked elegantly against the floor, and her scent—God—was floral, like jasmine and warm honey.
We passed each other, and just before she turned the corner, her eyes met mine.
A pale violet color. Hypnotizing.
She offered me a soft, amused smile—knowing, like she’d caught me staring—and continued her conversation with the woman beside her like it was nothing.
I blinked, heart thudding, before rushing to the bathroom with my cheeks burning.
I slammed the door behind me and leaned over the sink, trying to catch my breath.
"Why are all the women here so hot?!" I hissed to myself in the mirror, running cold water over my wrists.
This job was going to be dangerous—but not for the reasons I thought.
THE LACK OF WLW INN JJKKK AAAAHHHHHH. I got bored.. so imma make a unhinged insane smuutty sexyyyy harem.. cuz free will. enjoy this new series!
