Yandere Expressions Novels & Stories

I've been married to Austin Salazar for five years. Every time I accidentally touch him, he'll force me to kneel in a pool of disinfectants while reciting verses from the Bible. But there was once when I noticed a bright red hickey on Austin's collarbone. Instincts propelled me to touch it for a fleeting moment. While Austin did lose his temper at me before storming out of our home, for once, he didn't tell me to get down on my knees. Naively, I thought that he's starting to get used to my touch. But the next day, my virginity is set to be auctioned off at the auction house where the rich and the powerful of Bannerton regularly visit. The auction will officially start in two days. While Austin's buddies calculate the price they can afford to bid with lewd expressions, he remains unmoved as he keeps cleansing his collarbone with disinfectants repeatedly. "How dare she touch the spot Carol has kissed before! Who does she think she is? Just the sight of her taints my vision!"

[Except] “I’m leaving,” “Do you really think you can run away again and I’ll let you?” Kal asked towering over her, and staring down at her with a dark look on his face with fiery red eyes that held more expressions than he could express. “You’re a vampire and I’m a werewolf. In what world can we be friends,” She yelled at him, pushing lightly against him wanting to leave even faster than before only to feel him press his body even closer to hers as he held her against the tree******** Being the princess of the werewolf kingdom isn’t as easy as it seems especially when you befriend a boy who you later find out is the vampire prince and isn’t as ordinary as he pretends to be. What then do you do when the heir to the throne of the enemy’s kingdom tells you he loves you? Could this be a trap and even if it isn’t are you willing to take that chance and risk the life of all the werewolves in the kingdom of Lunera. Does love truly conquer all including decade-old wars?

After I turned sixteen, I inherited the huge fortune my parents had left behind. As soon as the money was in my account, I hired a fake family online. A dad, a mom, and an older brother. Then, I gave them their instructions. "My dad doesn't say much, but he always lets me have my way." "My mom is gentle and a wonderful cook, especially when she makes barbecue ribs." "My older brother has poor health, and he doesn't like me. Just act like I don't exist." The three of them froze, and their expressions darkened. A long time passed before the woman playing my mother took my hand and asked softly, "Why did you hire a family? Do you miss them that much?" I avoided the guilt in her eyes, buried my face in her arms, and smiled. "Being alone is too boring." They were obviously relieved, but when no one was looking, I quietly wiped away my tears. What I did not tell them was that… I was dying. So, please. Don't hypnotize me into forgetting your faces again this time.

In this life, I refuse Ray Leger's suggestion to go live in the south with him. Instead, I go to the north alone and devote myself to the national translation service. It is because in my previous life, I leave my hometown and follow him to a southern city. In the end, I become nothing more than a cash cow supporting him and Shannon Cross. I work during the day and take on translation jobs at night. Eventually, I collapse and cough up blood from exhaustion, only to hear Ray's disgusted remark. "Nora Spencer, you really are useless. It has only been ten years, and you've already outlived your usefulness!" I lift my head in a daze, and what I see are the mocking expressions on his and Shannon's faces. Just before I die, I learn that our marriage certificate is fake. It is just Ray's excuse to trick me into going to the south with him. When I open my eyes again, I see Ray trying to lure me with marriage once more. "Nora, as long as you come to the south with us, I will register our marriage right away!"

The day my parents traveled all the way from home to discuss the wedding arrangements, the Miller family—led by Grayson Miller—showed up late. After my third call went unanswered, my mom forced a smile and tried to comfort me. "Maybe they're stuck in traffic. It's no big deal. Your dad and I don't mind waiting." And wait we did—for three hours. Their expressions slowly shifted from eager excitement to quiet sorrow. My dad kept tugging at the stiff, ill-fitting suit he rarely wore. Finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore. His eyes reddened, and his voice trembled as he asked, "Sweetheart… does it have to be him? "I'm not trying to break you two up. It's just—you'll be thousands of miles away from us. If you ever get hurt, your mom and I… we won't be there in time to wipe your tears." My nails dug into my palms. Still, I smiled, helped my parents to their feet, and said: "Dad, Mom, let's go home. Forget the engagement. I don't want it anymore."

~Did she cut her wedding gown off? What the heck! How could she turn it to that? ~ ~ What's going on with her? Why is she in sneakers? ~ ~What's she holding behind her ~ My ears listened to their whispers as I stood at the doorstep about to enter the hall. My gaze fell on my soon-to-be husband waiting for me by the alter and I chuckled remembering everything. Well, yes, I shortened my most beautiful wedding gown to a short gown that reaches above my knees and also on sneakers instead of heels, but then, this feeling is different; I've never felt this way my entire life. I'm supposed to be feeling rage boiling through my veins, anger, fury, accompanied with pains, and screams but that's not the case. Right now, I'm feeling super excited. Without delaying it any longer, I revealed the KRISS Vector gun I had been hiding behind me, and their facial expressions were joy-giving. I burst into laughter before releasing the fire on them. Wondering the kind of bride I am? I am Elora, the bride who went on a killing spree on her wedding day.

My mother-in-law lives alone. One day, her house suddenly catches on fire. It's a life-threatening situation. I call my firefighter husband several times before he answers impatiently. "I don't care why you're calling—can't it wait? I'm fixing Sophie's pipes!" I tell him about his mother being trapped in a fire, but he merely sneers. "How dare you curse my mother just to make me go home? You're insane!" He hangs up without another word. I'm left helpless. All I can do is wait for his colleagues to arrive, but they only come half an hour later. Their expressions shift to horror when they see the blazing fire. "Didn't Captain Scott say his wife was lying?" My mother-in-law dies due to the delay. My husband even misses the funeral because of his first love. I give up on him and ask for a divorce. However, he rips the divorce agreement to shreds and shatters the urn that contains his mother's ashes. "Drop the act—I would definitely go through with the divorce if not for my mother!" I laugh. He doesn't even know his mother is already dead.

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

"That's going to conclude our session today" "Please, come back tomorrow, miss Athena. I enjoy your visit, especially when it's in this lone alone" He rasped, voice raspy as ever. Sadistic was his way of analyzing her features and expressions, he finds amusement in her suffering. Then she won't suffer. "don't forget that they're cameras here and all your sessions is being recorded Nyx, along with the guards out there, they just need me to press this button to make them walk in, "she said, locking her eyes with him as she showed him the red button of the instrument of the recording room. She eyes him silently." I don't have a problem with that " he paused before he continued" but I have one when you come to my cell, showing off your genius ass to the other prisoners, Doctor " he spoke. as she looked at him weirdly, until realization hit her. So the villain can be jealous. Interesting. "Jealous much? " "Yes, after all, you're my therapist, not theirs right ??" "maybe?" she paused taking a deep breath, "but what can I say? It seemed to me that the Villain is jealous. Goodbye, Mr. Nyx." She stood up, arranging her papers before walking toward the door. She was leaving him hanging on her words. The villain of her story.

My husband dotes on me. He's always saying I'm the one he cherishes most in this life. Everyone else envies me too, saying I married well—pampered like a princess. It all started when I mentioned, offhand, that tailored cuts flatter my figure. From that moment on, he kept it in mind every day, going out of his way to gather all kinds of designer womenswear for me. In the walk-in closet at home, there's always a wardrobe filled exclusively with my new clothes—each piece haute couture, with exquisite fabrics and impeccable craftsmanship. On New Year's Eve in our third year of marriage, the house was lively, packed with relatives chatting and laughing. With a smile, my husband handed me a gift box. "Go on, open your New Year's present." The frustration and resentment I'd been bottling up for so long exploded in an instant. I shoved the box to the floor. "It's the New Year—can you just stop for once?" The moment the words left my mouth, everyone fell silent. The relatives' expressions shifted; one after another, they began to scold me for being ungrateful, for not knowing how lucky I was. My husband looked at me, eyes full of shock and hurt. "I just bought you some pretty clothes. Why are you angry?" Amid their pointing fingers and his wounded questioning, I rushed into the walk-in closet like I'd lost my mind, dragging out those designer clothes and throwing them all over the floor. Everyone stared at me, stunned. No one said another word.