Pair :- Yandere seokjin × Female reader
Summary :- Dr. Seokjin is adored by all, yet bound to a possessive wife who marks him as hers. His colleagues pity him, thinking he’s trapped. But behind closed doors, the truth is far more complicated.
Warnings :- Yandere themes, toxic relationship, manupilative behaviour, domestic violence, jealous reader, possessive reader, dubious consent (mild), smut (it's bit edgy), oral (f. receiving), jealous seokjin, possessive seokjin.
"This is a work of fiction and does not promote or romanticize toxic relationships in real life."
They had been newlyweds, still learning each other's habits, still adjusting to their life together. Seokjin had noticed Yn’s possessiveness early on—the way she’d stiffen when another woman got too close, how her hand would tighten around his wrist when someone complimented him.
But she had never crossed a line. Not until that night.
It had started at a family gathering.
Yn’s mother had laughed over dinner, sipping on her wine, recounting stories from Yn’s childhood. "Yn has always been like this," she had said. "She never liked sharing her toys. I still remember when she scratched her little friend’s face just because she took her doll. Poor girl had scars for weeks."
Seokjin had chuckled politely, but a strange feeling crept up his spine. He glanced at Yn, expecting her to laugh it off, but she was staring at her plate, lips pressed into a thin line.
Seokjin's cousin sister was always friendly but he felt yn's eyes on him and he tensed, her mother previous words didn't do anything better.
Jin had tried to let go of that topic, he wasn't disloyal and he wasn't an object but why did it feel like it. Why did he get nervous while talking to another woman. He didn't see but he knew yn was watching and he knew what was going to happen tonight.
That night, when they got home, the tension followed them inside.
It started small—Yn’s arms crossed, eyes dark as she questioned him. "That woman was too close to you today."
Seokjin sighed, rubbing his temple. "She was just making conversation, Yn."
"It was just for a moment."
"She was just being friendly."
The slap came so suddenly, neither of them registered it at first.
A sharp sting on Seokjin’s cheek. A heavy silence in the air.
Yn gasped, stepping back as if she had burned herself. Her hand trembled. "Jin—" Her voice cracked. "I—"
She looked terrified. Like she had just realized what she had done.
Seokjin’s mind was blank. The pain barely registered, but the shock did. His wife—his soft, shy, lovesick wife—had hit him.
Yn clutched her hands together. "I didn’t mean to. I swear. I just—" Her breath came out shaky. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jin."
A long, suffocating silence stretched between them.
Seokjin forced himself to breathe. He swallowed, the weight of the moment settling in. And then, despite everything, he gave her a small, tired smile. "It’s okay."
But Yn knew it wasn’t. She knew she fucked up.
That night, they both lay awake in bed. Neither spoke. The space between them felt like an ocean. Yn wanted to apologise but she knew her sorrys are waste if she doesn't control her possessiveness. She never found it as a trait. Growing up she was proud of her selfishness and possesiveness, but now she wasn't sure.
Jin had been avoiding her for days. Yn felt like shit even though they slept in same bed he felt miles away and guilt for the first time was eating her away. Her Jin must be upset on her, she must correct her mistake.
Yn was determined. If her behavior hurt Seokjin—if it put a crack in their marriage—she would change. She isn't ready to give up on seokjin, never.
The next morning, she reached out to her friend, asking for recommendations for yoga and meditation classes.
"I need to control my anger," she admitted, voice heavy with shame.
And when she told Seokjin about it, he had smiled, relief flickering in his eyes.
For the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.
If he likes it then I'll do it.
❀｡･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ✿･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ❀
It started slow. Days passed.
Yn meditated in the mornings as instructed by teacher. She learned to breathe before reacting. When Seokjin’s female colleagues laughed a little too much at his jokes, she clenched her fists but said nothing. When she felt the surge of jealousy creeping up, she forced herself to calm down, to breathe, to not punch her in the face.
Seokjin noticed the difference immediately.
She no longer clung to him with bruising grips. She no longer tightened her arms around his waist whenever she got insecure.
She still loved him—he knew that. But something was different.
And at first, it was good.
Seokjin would flirt playfully, and instead of blushing furiously and gripping his arm, Yn would just smile and shake her head.
He would tease her about another woman talking to him, expecting that usual fire in her eyes, but she only kissed his cheek and said, "I trust you."
She didn’t get jealous anymore.
She didn’t throw her arms around him at random moments, burying her face in his chest.
She still held him, still kissed him, still loved him—but it wasn’t the same.
And Seokjin—he didn’t understand why that bothered him.
It was better this way, wasn’t it?
But then, why did he feel restless?
Why did he miss the way she used to grip him like he was the only thing keeping her afloat?
Why did it feel like he was losing something?
One evening, Seokjin decided to surprise Yn.
He had finished early at work and drove to her yoga class, waiting in the parking lot with a small bouquet in hand.
When he saw her step out of the building, he smiled.
He was about to call her name, stepping forward—
She was talking to someone—a man.
Seokjin’s stomach dropped.
She was smiling. Laughing. Her posture was relaxed, her face open and warm.
She didn’t smile at men like that before.
That suffocating weight in his chest. That rush of jealousy clawing up his throat. That deep, irrational fear that someone was trying to take what was his.
His fingers clenched around the bouquet, heart pounding in his ears.
For the first time, Seokjin understood.
The drive home that night was quiet. Too quiet.
Seokjin gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as his mind replayed the image over and over again.
Yn. Laughing. Smiling. With another man.
She had never done that before.
At home, Yn hummed as she set the table for dinner. She looked… peaceful.
Seokjin should have been happy. She was finally in control of her emotions, finally at ease. But something wasn’t right.
He couldn’t stop staring at her.
She was still his Yn, still his wife, but she wasn’t the same.
She wasn’t his in the way she used to be.
She didn’t cling to him the second he walked through the door. She didn’t demand to know how many women had tried to talk to him today.
She didn’t grip his arm too tight, didn’t press possessive kisses onto his skin.
"How was work?" Yn asked, taking a bite of her food.
"It was okay," he murmured, watching her carefully.
Yn smiled. "That’s good. I had a great class today. We focused on breathing techniques."
Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek.
"Who else was there?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay light.
Yn blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "The usual group."
That man was part of the "usual group," wasn’t he?
Seokjin forced himself to nod.
The days that followed were a battle he hadn’t prepared for.
Seokjin was used to being the good one in their relationship. The patient one. The reasonable one.
But now… he was the one holding back his emotions.
He would wake up to find Yn already meditating in the living room, eyes closed, face serene. She looked untouchable—like something sacred.
She used to wake him up first.
She used to press lazy, desperate kisses to his lips in the mornings, refusing to let him leave the bed.
At the hospital, Seokjin became distracted.
"Dr. Kim, are you alright?" a nurse asked when he nearly prescribed the wrong dosage for a patient.
He nodded stiffly. "Just a little tired."
Junho, his closest friend, noticed too.
"You don’t seem yourself lately," Junho remarked as they walked to the cafeteria. "Is everything okay with Yn?"
Seokjin clenched his jaw.
Junho brightened. "That’s good, right? She’s working on herself."
Seokjin should have nodded. Should have smiled and said, Yes. It’s good.
But the words stuck in his throat.
Because it didn’t feel that way.
That night, when Seokjin got home, Yn was on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
She didn’t rush to the door when she heard him.
She didn’t even look up immediately.
It was like a knife to the chest.
"Hey," she finally greeted, glancing up.
"Hey," he echoed, his voice colder than intended.
Yn frowned. "Something wrong?"
"No," he said flatly, dropping his bag and walking past her.
Yn didn’t chase after him.
She used to always chase after him.
❀｡･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ✿･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ❀
Seokjin tried to ignore the growing unease in his chest.
He told himself he was being irrational.
That he should be proud of Yn for controlling herself.
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop.
Especially when, a few days later, he picked her up from class early.
He saw her before she saw him.
And worse—she was smiling back.
He had never hated anyone before.
But in that moment, he hated him.
His feet moved on their own, carrying him forward.
"Yn," he called, voice tight.
She turned, surprised. "Jin! You’re here early."
Seokjin barely glanced at the man before pulling Yn closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, his grip firm.
Yn blinked but nodded, giving a small smile to the man. "See you later."
Seokjin gritted his teeth.
The second they got home, Seokjin pulled Yn against him, burying his face in her neck.
Yn laughed softly, carding her fingers through his hair. "What’s gotten into you?"
He gripped her hips tighter, as if afraid she’d slip through his fingers.
"You don’t hold me like this anymore."
"You don’t need me like before."
Yn sighed, pulling back to cup his face. "Jin, you know I love you, right?"
"Then why does it feel like I’m losing you?"
Seokjin forced a smile. "Of course."
Yn smiled, leaning in to kiss him.
But this time, he didn’t let her pull away.
His lips moved urgently, possessively.
Yn let out a surprised sound, but he didn’t stop.
Needed to brand himself onto her skin again.
His hands gripped her waist, his mouth trailing lower.
Yn gasped as he kissed along her collarbone, her neck. "Jin—"
He sucked and bit down, leaving marks.
Yn let out a breathy laugh, tugging at his hair. "You’re acting jealous."
Seokjin smirked against her skin.
Yn rolled her eyes but let him do whatever he wanted.
And for the first time in weeks, Seokjin felt at peace.
His kisses lingered further on body, his hands now pulling on her yoga pants. It was overwhelming for yn, they haven't had sex since their fight and she missed this so much.
Her panties were soaked and seokjin started moving her to bedroom. After pulling her panties down he put his one digit in, not really needed lube seeing how much horny yn was.
Seokjin hurried himself out of his clothes, going down on her. Oh how he loves pleasuring yn. Hearing her break and whimper just by his mouth. Starting by sucking on her clitoris and to licking her folds, seokjin tried to prove that no one can please her better than him. His fingers joining and opening her up. Yn was mess, fuck she was a total mess. Her stomach bubbling with hotness and she knew she was close.
Seokjin however didn't rush - he enjoyed, licking her vagina clean he moved forward. Lubing up his dick, he was ready to insert - until.
Seokjin forgot and weirdly didn't want to remember about it. Surely he would pull out and even if he doesn't they were mature to be parents, right?
She could just leave that stupid class and would carry his child, her bump showing proudly but Jin still put on the condom. He can't go against her wishes but he does show his frustration with rough thrusts.
Hitting her on right spots, her hole swallowing him, adjusting his whole length as if it was made for it.
Jin sweet talked throughout the whole sex, he praised which elevated his sweet wife more. And for the first time in while seokjin was at peace.
❀｡･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ✿･:*:･ﾟ❥･:*:･ﾟ❀
His arms reached out instinctively, searching for Yn’s warmth. But the bed was empty. Cold.
Last night, she had been there—under him, around him, his.
Seokjin sat up, rubbing his face before his eyes landed on the living room.
Sitting on the floor, back straight, eyes closed in deep meditation.
Her lips, the same ones he had kissed raw last night, were slightly parted in a peaceful sigh.
She was slipping away again.
So slowly that if he wasn’t careful, he would lose her completely.
But Seokjin wasn’t going to let that happen.
His voice was soft but firm.
Yn slowly opened her eyes, blinking as she turned to face him. "Jin?"
He smiled, tilting his head. "Come have breakfast with me."
Seokjin never interrupted her meditation.
Her routine had been sacred ever since she started this journey of self-control.
But now, his eyes held something she couldn’t quite place.
"I just… want to have breakfast with my wife," he added, voice almost pleading.
Yn hesitated again, then nodded slowly.
She didn’t know what she had just agreed to.
Because Seokjin never planned to let her go back.
Little things that Yn didn’t notice at first.
Like how her alarm mysteriously stopped ringing in the mornings.
"Oh, did you forget to set it?" Seokjin would ask, feigning innocence.
Or how, every time she wanted to meditate, he would suddenly need her.
"Can you help me with this?"
"Let’s go for a walk together."
"I made tea for us, come sit with me."
No, Seokjin was too smart for that.
Instead, he made her choose him.
Made her feel guilty for wanting to spend time alone.
And when she did try to insist on her routine, his face would fall ever so slightly, just enough for her to see.
"I just… miss you, that’s all."
Yn would pause, chew her lip, then sigh.
But today became tomorrow.
Tomorrow became the next week.
And soon, Yn’s carefully built routine began to crumble.
Just like Seokjin planned.
Seokjin needed to try more.
So he let the jealousy creep back in.
He made her see it. Feel it.
One evening, while they were at a dinner party, he spoke a little too kindly to a female colleague.
He smiled a little too warmly.
And from the corner of his eye, he watched Yn’s fingers curl into fists.
She had been so calm lately. So rational.
But Seokjin didn’t want rational.
He wanted her to burn for him.
So when the woman laughed at his joke and placed a hand on his arm, he didn’t move away immediately.
And just like that, the fire was back.
Her nails dug into his wrist under the table, a warning. A claim.
And Seokjin nearly smiled.
When they got home, she was seething.
"You enjoyed that, didn’t you?" she accused, arms crossed.
Seokjin blinked, innocent. "What are you talking about?"
Yn stepped closer, eyes blazing. "She was all over you, and you let her."
Seokjin sighed dramatically. "Yn, you know I only love you."
She grabbed his collar, yanking him into a bruising kiss.
Let her pull. Let her mark him.
Let her claim him all over again.
His fingers curled into her waist, holding her close as she pressed hickeys into his skin like she owned him.
She did. She always would.
And in that moment, Seokjin knew.
Yn stopped going to meditation classes.
Not all at once. No, it was gradual.
Seokjin made sure of that.
"Come with me to the hospital, I have a long shift, and I miss you."
"Let’s take a trip, just us."
"I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, stay with me."
One by one, her excuses piled up.
And one day, she simply stopped going altogether.
Seokjin held her tighter than ever.
And when she clung back, possessive, needy, desperate—he knew.
That she had chosen to let go of meditation on her own.
But Seokjin knew better. Every step. Every moment.
His sweet, jealous wife. His obsessive, possessive wife.
And she would never even realize.
Seokjin had always been a patient man. It was a necessary trait in his profession—steady hands, steady mind, unwavering control. He knew how to wait. How to watch. How to manipulate the smallest changes in a person’s body to lead them to recovery.
But this wasn’t about healing.
The hospital was quieter in the mornings, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air as the early shifts began. Dr. Junho leaned against Seokjin’s desk, arms crossed, his face laced with concern. His eyes flickered toward Seokjin’s sleeve, barely hiding the faint bruises on his wrist—remnants of last night’s possessive grip.
“She’s getting worse, Jin,” Junho muttered, keeping his voice low so no nurses would overhear.
Seokjin merely sighed, adjusting his tie in the reflection of his computer screen. "It's not as bad as it looks."
Junho scoffed. "Jin, people saw what happened last night. The way she held onto you, the way she stormed out. And now—" He gestured toward the bruises. "She’s leaving marks on you. This isn’t normal.”
A pause stretched between them.
“She loves me,” Seokjin finally said, voice calm, unwavering. "That’s all there is to it."
Junho pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling in frustration. "Jin, love shouldn’t be like this. You know that, right?"
But Seokjin only smiled, an expression so gentle, so convincing that anyone else would have believed him. "You don’t understand, Junho. She just… loves me differently."
And that was the end of the conversation. Junho knew pushing further would be pointless—Seokjin always denied it, always dismissed it. With one last wary glance, Junho left, leaving Seokjin alone in his office, staring at his reflection.
A love like theirs wasn’t for others to understand.
When Seokjin stepped inside his home that evening, the air felt different. It was warm, charged, filled with something possessive and intoxicating. Yn was in the kitchen, back turned to him, humming softly as she prepared dinner. His heart swelled at the sight.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps, her lips curling into a smirk. "You’re late."
Seokjin simply walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a lingering kiss to her neck. "You missed me?"
Yn huffed but didn’t pull away. "Of course I did. Who else am I supposed to keep in check?"
A chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Of course."
As they sat down for dinner, Yn eyed the faint bruises on his wrist, her fingers tracing them lightly. "I didn't mean to grip you that hard," she muttered.
Seokjin took her hand in his, squeezing gently. "I know, darling!."
She didn’t notice the way his grip lingered, possessive in its own way. She didn’t notice how his eyes darkened ever so slightly as he watched her across the table, how his mind swirled with satisfaction.
Because she was his. And he was hers.
And as long as the world thought he was the victim, no one would ever suspect who the real yandere in their marriage was.
Heya!! Sorry for being lazy in posting the second part 😩
Thanks Y'all for patiently waiting and giving love to this series (mwah mwah), if anyone has any ideas on next part or epilogue do not hesitate to share with me. And do comment if you liked the plot.
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