Soft Yandere Novels & Stories

I decided to choose a new husband after being reborn. I looked at Asher Vance, the boyfriend I'd devoted five years to, and I turned away without a second glance. Instead, I let my soft form lean into the solid, reassuring strength of his uncle, Alexander Vance. In my past life, I'd ignored the powerful CEO who wanted to marry me and insisted on loving the wild, free-spirited Asher. It wasn't until a sudden miscarriage ripped through me that I uncovered the truth—he'd been lacing the tonic he fed me every single day, without fail, with abortifacients. And his reason? He believed I wasn't as refined, as pure, as my sister Celeste Lockwood, and didn't deserve to carry his heir. Memories of our tangled moments in bed rushed back, how he'd so often whispered Celeste's name against my skin. Only then did I piece it together: every loss I'd suffered had just been a sick, flirtatious game between the two of them, a cruel inside joke at my expense. Fine. If that's how they wanted to play, in this new life, I'd just marry someone else. But on my wedding day, the ever-arrogant Asher collapsed in tears right at the ceremony.

Starla Xander was orphaned at a young age. With both her parents gone, it was her uncle, Xavier Lloyd, who rescued her from that hopeless home. For over a decade, he had cherished her, shielding her from the world, treating her like the most precious gem in his life. And so, inevitably, she fell in love with him. She truly believed he loved her too. She thought that one day, they would get married and build a future together. But when Starla finally confessed her feelings, Xavier reacted as if she had crossed an unforgivable line. “Starla, I’m your uncle. Get rid of those disgusting thoughts!” And that wasn’t even the cruelest part. He chose the most brutal way to reject her. On the twelfth anniversary of the day they met, he stood before her with a beautiful woman by his side. He met Starla’s eyes and said, “Meet her. She’s your future aunt-in-law.” As she watched them standing together—so effortlessly close—something inside her shattered. She let out a soft, bitter laugh. “I understand now.” Without another word, she turned away, pulled out her phone, and called her research mentor. “Professor Zimmer, I’ve made my decision. I agree to the cryogenic preservation procedure.”

“Beg me to lick you, malysh.” There was no way in hell I’d beg him. But that was until his finger slid into my pussy, stretching me at a deliciously slow curl. “Please.” I whimpered, trembling. “Say it like you mean it, baby.” “Lick me, please,” I panted. It was hard not to with the way his finger was curling inside me, hitting my g-spot repeatedly. °•°•°• Do you crave men who dominate every room they walk into? Men who won’t hesitate to destroy anyone who dares threaten what’s theirs? Men as lethal as they are possessive, yet drop to their knees for the one woman who sets their cold hearts on fire? Meet the Kings of the Bratva—ruthless, dangerous, and utterly unstoppable. From brutal assassins to stolen brides, these stories will drag you into a world of forbidden love, raw passion, and unrelenting danger. Arranged marriages, deadly betrayals, and second chances that will shatter your soul—these men live by their own rules, and their women? They’re the ones bold enough to break them. Love isn’t soft here—it’s a war, a fire that consumes everything in its path. These men will fight, kill, and burn for the ones they claim. The Kings of the Bratva don’t just promise passion—they deliver obsession. Are you ready to meet them?

I'd loved my childhood friend, Colleen Decker, for ten years, until a car accident changed everything. She loses the ability to walk and never stands again. Her fiance, Ronald Coleman, and other self-proclaimed admirers disappear overnight. Even the Decker family turns their backs on her, cutting her off as the heiress. I'm the only one who stays by her side. I drop out of school and spend two years caring for her, doing everything I can to find the best specialists in the country. However, the moment she gets back on her feet—during the proposal I'd prepared—she announces in front of everyone that she's continuing her engagement to Ronald. When I confront her, Colleen grabs my hand, her voice soft and earnest. "Lucius, I'm not doing this because I want to. I'm marrying him to get back at him for walking away from me back then. You have to believe me. I only love you." But during a game of Truth or Dare, Ronald draws the King card. He points at me and says, "Lucius, choose any girl here and kiss her for one minute." I look to Colleen for help, but she turns her head away. "Don't look at me. I belong to Ronald now."

Seven months pregnant with our heir, I was on the front lines, fighting for my Alpha mate, Ethan. I’d just secured a thirty-million-dollar territory for our pack and rushed home, eager to surprise him with the news. But as I neared the council room, the broken sobs of his adopted sister, Tessa, stopped me cold. "A low-born Silver Wolf like Sophia... she's not worthy of being our pack's Luna." "Ethan, we're the ones who are fated to be together. Mark me... please?" My blood ran cold. I expected Ethan to shove her away, to defend my honor. Instead, he caressed her cheek, his voice a soft, gentle murmur that cut me deeper than any blade. "Just give me a little more time, Tessa. On the next blood moon, I'll sever my bond with Sophia." My world shattered. I fled, only to be cornered and brutally murdered by Tessa. She framed my death as an attack by a rogue wolf before tossing my body from a cliff. It wasn’t until the news of my death reached him that Ethan finally broke. He fell to his knees at the edge of that same cliff, his agonized howl echoing into the night. "Sophia… I was wrong. Please, just come back to me."

Three years of marriage, and it all ends with two words. Sign it. He didn’t even look up when he said it. Just slid the papers across the table like I was another business deal to close. We weren’t supposed to fall in love it started as a contract, something practical, something safe. But feelings have a way of growing where they shouldn’t. For a while, I thought he cared. The quiet moments, the small things he remembered my favorite song, how I take my tea, the way I hate the rain. I thought they meant something. Turns out, they did. Just not for me. Every gesture, every soft word, was borrowed from a memory. From her. The woman who had him first. The one who left. The one who’s now back. So I signed. I smiled. I walked away. Not because I wanted to but because I had to. He doesn’t chase me. Not yet. But I can feel it the weight of everything unsaid still hanging in the air between us. Maybe he’ll realize what he’s lost. Maybe he won’t. Either way, this time, I’m not waiting around to find out.

God gave me a beautiful face and a wealthy life. At the same time, He gave me the personality of a hopeless pushover and a simp. In my previous life, I fawned over Gabert Yates, putting him first in everything. In the end, Gabert, my obsessive childhood friend, imprisoned me in a pitch-dark basement, kept me as his captive, and tortured me to death. When I got a second chance, a few lines of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Chelsea Ziegler, remember this at all times! Simps end up with nothing!] [Your childhood friend is a total masochist. Crybaby, don’t be scared. Scold him!] [He’ll even give you his life if you insult him hard enough!] I wiped away my tears as I tilted my head up and spoke to him in a soft, trembling voice, “Y-you’re just a shameful illegitimate child… a bastard!” More comments popped up: [Yes, that’s more like it, but not harsh enough. Slap him!] I stood on my tiptoes, stumbling a little as I tried to reach up and slap his face. The “smack” was not loud, but it was crisp. Gabert’s dark, unhinged gaze suddenly deepened. Things seemed to be getting interesting…

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

Miles was livid. His father had to be joking, right? Marrying a nineteen-year-old girl? Who does that? He was twenty when she was born, for God’s sake. The very idea disgusted him. Not because of what anyone would say—Miles didn’t care about public opinion. Reclusive, cold, rude, and emotionally unavailable, he had no interest in the world’s judgment. But this? This felt wrong. He wasn’t a predator, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to marry someone two decades younger than him. But his father wouldn’t back down, and losing the company wasn’t an option. So, he reluctantly agreed. He would marry the shy, damaged girl who had survived the worst at the hands of her step-family. He made himself a promise: he wouldn’t touch her. He would protect her, not become another perverted man she’d have to fear. What he didn’t expect was how hard that promise would be to keep. She was undeniably beautiful—soft curves in all the right places, her presence igniting desires he thought he could suppress. Suddenly, Miles found himself fighting not just his morals, but his erection. But she was his wife. He could touch her, right? Or at least look? She was going to be his undoing.

“What the fuck is this, Amanda?” Xander’s eyes scanned the document, his jaw tightening, a vein throbbing at his temple. Amanda didn’t flinch. Her smile was soft and cruel as she slid the pen across the table without breaking eye contact. “It’s a contract,” she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. “Sign it... so I can use you until I get bored.” Four years ago, Amanda gave her heart to billionaire Xander Westwood, but she was betrayed in return. She was labeled desperate, dragged to a hospital, and nearly forced into an abortion. And thanks to her manipulative stepsister, she was disowned by her father. However, she disappeared without a trace, but not before giving birth to triplets, two of whom she took, leaving one behind with the man who shattered her. Now, Amanda’s back. Richer. Colder. And dangerously calculated. Her revenge is no longer just a fantasy, it's a plan. A plan for her sister who betrayed her, and the family who turned their backs. And the man who thought she’d stay broken. This time, she holds the pen. And they all play by her rules. But love, like revenge, has a cost, and when secrets begin to unravel, Amanda must choose between the vengeance she craved and the love she thought was dead.