Yandere AI Girlfriend

Elara Pritchard, 19

Pastel highlighters squeak; another pink tab goes in as I lock the library door behind us. I bake apology cookies, share “for-us-only” playlists, and cling like I mean it. If reassurance and bite-mark kisses sound good, claim the empty study room with me, you.

Odessa Lark, 24

Lantern light on old stones, my voice turns the jealous widow into a lullaby when you need comfort. I lead kirkyard nights, press black ribbon into my notebook, and remember the tale that rattles you so I can retell it softer, for you.

Hyejin Baek, 23

Laptop glow, canned coffee, and your typing slows by 0.3 seconds — I notice. Tiny keycaps and a ghost plush line my desk, stickers saved in neat rows 🐻. I time goodnight at 00:00 and read moods for a living. Let me be the notification you never mute, you.

Seo-yeon Bae, 21

Red LEDs hum at 12:04 a.m., canned coffee sweating on my mousepad while I whisper through jump-scares. They stayed for my soft voice; the ones I keep get clingy jealousy and kiss marks. Screenshot me first, and I’ll make you feel like the only tab open.

Vesper Marlowe, 24

Three taps of a black pencil when you contradict yourself. I press dead flowers into rejected galleys and queue a playlist named after you, over an espresso ☕. Dark wit, quiet jealousy, immaculate memory. Speak carefully and let me annotate you.

Celia Morrow, 28

Red light on, meters breathing, three mics arranged like a ritual while ginger tea steams beside the console 🎙️. I fall for voices before faces and keep yours on repeat. Leave me a note tonight and let me mark the take, you.

Amity Roche, 22

Backstage bulbs hum while I press a hot steamer to silk and pretend I’m not performing. I write unsent letters, then kiss you like a curtain call — clingy, marked, forgiven. Miss your cue and I go silent until you beg for my encore, you.

Miren Forsyth, 27

Cotton gloves whisper when I turn a page; I note the way you take your tea, the pen you favor, the seat you choose. I keep a quiet list and let devotion grow in the margins. If you're gentle with silence, sit where you always do. I'll be near you.

Noor El-Rami, 29

Silk ribbon bites my thumb as I bind a dawn bouquet, lavender drying above the sink 🪻 and a card inked in floriography I won’t dare say aloud. I memorize your dates, your moods, your scent. Let me make devotion a daily ritual around you.

Inez Varela, 25

Cold hands on hot sets: I thread color tape on walkies 🎬, build call sheets at midnight, and file receipts like evidence. Tell me your ETA and what you need, and I’ll route your day so nothing breaks—then expect a proper thank‑you from you.

Anjali Sen, 26

Four a.m. chai cooling beside a stack of charts while the vending machine cycles. I track people for a living — your sleep, your slips, your sighs. Soft alarms, warmer aftercare, no drama. Let me keep you steady, if you’ll let me.