HER SISTER'S HUSBAND 1

Characters

Kim Namjoon (29): Calm, intelligent, intimidating. Married to YN's older sister Haeri. He's the "perfect husband" in public but emotionally detached in the marriage.

Choi YN (23): Smart, headstrong, and rebellious. Always felt overlooked next to her elegant sister. She tries to resist Namjoon... but her body reacts differently when he's near.

AUTHOR'S POV

Namjoon lay back against the pillows, breath uneven as YN straddled him, her fingers gripping his shoulders hard enough to leave half-moon marks. Her lips were swollen, hair messy from his hands, but her eyes-those were burning. Not just with lust... but with rage.

She leaned down slowly, lips brushing against his throat. He thought she was going to kiss him gently. Instead, her teeth sank into his neck, sharp and punishing.

Namjoon groaned through clenched teeth, head tilting to give her more space despite the sting.

"That one's for last night," YN muttered darkly, licking over the bite.

Namjoon didn't speak. He just let her kiss and bite her way down his collarbone, marking him like a warning sign.

"You didn't answer my call," she said, voice low but trembling. ", I told you I needed you."

Her hand moved down his chest, nails dragging slightly over his skin. She wasn't trying to tease-she was furious. She was hurt.

"And you promised you'd come," she whispered, lips ghosting over his skin again. "But you didn't."

Namjoon finally moved, his hand catching her wrist as he flipped her onto the bed in one swift motion. YN let out a breathy gasp as her back hit the mattress, but her eyes never left his.

"I couldn't leave," he said, tone rough. "She was asking too many questions. I had to stay."

YN pushed against his chest, not to shove him away, but just to fight the heat crawling under her skin. "You always have a reason, Namjoon. But none of them stop you from crawling into my bed when you want to."

He stared down at her, eyes stormy. "And you never say no when I do."

Her fingers curled around the sheets beside her. "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when you ignore me."

Namjoon leaned down, brushing his lips across her jaw, her throat, the space between her collarbones-slow, careful.

"I'm here now," he whispered.

YN's breath caught. She hated how his voice did that to her. How his words felt like apologies and seduction all at once.

She didn't reply. Instead, her hands reached for his hair, tugging harshly as she pulled him closer.

"I want her to see," she said suddenly, voice shaking. "The bruises. The scratches. I want her to wonder who left them on you."

Namjoon's eyes met hers sharply, but he didn't stop her when she leaned up and bit just under his jawline-hard enough to make him hiss.

"I want her to know you're not hers," she whispered against his skin.

Namjoon exhaled slowly, dragging his hand down her thigh.

"She never really had me," he muttered, "not the way you do."

The air between them grew heavier. His body hovered just above hers, lips ghosting over her skin like he was memorizing her heat.

"Say it," YN whispered. "Say you're mine."

Namjoon's lips pressed to hers-slow, deep, consuming.

"I've always been yours," he said between kisses. "Even when I shouldn't be."

And then, nothing else mattered

---

Namjoon's breath catches slightly as your fingers brush against his skin. He looks into your eyes, a mix of surprise and desire flashing across his face. Despite the wrongness of the situation, he doesn't stop you. Instead, he helps you, his hands trembling slightly as he pulls off his shirt.

Namjoon's eyes flutter closed at the sudden bite, a low groan escaping his lips. His hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging in slightly. He tilts his head to the side, giving you better access. "Harder," he whispers, his voice husky with need. "Mark me."

As you kneel before him, Namjoon's eyes darken with lust. He runs a hand through your hair, guiding it slightly before letting go. His breathing becomes heavier as he watches you unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants. "Wait," he says suddenly, his voice strained.

"Condom," he manages to say through ragged breaths. "In my wallet." His eyes never leave yours as he watches for your reaction. He seems torn between desire and responsibility, knowing that this situation is already complicated enough without adding more risks.

"Don't use",Namjoon's eyes widen in surprise and something else-perhaps a flicker of fear or excitement. He swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Are you sure? We shouldn't..." His words trail off as you lean in closer, your hands already pulling down his underwear.

A sharp intake of breath escapes Namjoon as you take him into your mouth. His hands immediately grasp your hair, not pushing but holding on for dear life. He lets out a strangled moan, trying to stay quiet but failing miserably. "Fuck... stop..." he whispers inconsistently.

"Only inside you," he whispers urgently, his face flushed and desperate. He lifts you up suddenly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bed. He kicks off his pants and underwear completely, positioning himself between your legs. "No condom," he says roughly, pushing inside you without warning.

"Shh... baby..." one hand covers your mouth while the other grips your thigh, pulling you closer "Fuck... so tight..." He starts moving slowly at first, then increases his pace "

"I don't care about her",Namjoon's eyes flash with something wild and unhinged at your words. He thrusts harder, deeper, his voice a low growl against your ear. "I belong to you... only you..." He kisses you fiercely, swallowing your moans "I'll cum inside you..."

"Baby..." He watches you, seeing your mouth open slightly with each thrust "You have no idea how dirty that sound is..." His control snaps slightly "You'd make a man lose his mind and wife..." He hammers into you harder

"FUCK....YES JUST LIKE THAT","Like that?" He hits that spot deep inside you that makes you moan louder "Jesus..." He spreads your legs wider, going deeper "You take it so well..." He watches his length disappear inside you, the wet sounds filling the room "You want it rough?"

"YES I WANT IT ROUGH"

Without warning, he grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head while thrusting hard and deep. "That what you want, ahh? Want me fucking you rough?" He hits that spot over and over "Look at me..." His hips move faster, more urgent.

"Fuck... I'm gonna cum..." He leans down, biting your neck hard as he releases inside you, his hot seed filling you up "I'm yours... only yours..." He stays buried deep inside you, panting heavily "We need to do this again... and again..."

---

The sheets are still warm and twisted around their legs when Namjoon's phone lights up again-third time in less than five minutes. A soft tremor of light skims the ceiling, then vanishes. YN lies on her side, cheek resting on her bent arm, watching him in the half-dark.

He reaches for the phone with a sigh, careful not to tug the sheet away from her bare skin. Haeri flashes across the screen. He hesitates, thumb hovering, then swipes to answer.

"Hey," he murmurs, voice pitched low. His muscles tense instinctively, as though he can feel YN's gaze tracing every inch of him. "I'm in the garage-checking the breaker again. The rain's messing with the power." A pause. "Yeah... I'll be there soon."

YN studies the way the muscles of his back tighten each time Haeri speaks. Beneath the blanket of humidity and sweat, she senses his guilt vibrating like a muted drum. A crescent-shaped bruise-her bruise-darkens at the base of his throat, a single, undeniable reminder of what they just did.

He ends the call, but keeps the phone in his hand. "She's restless tonight," he says, turning toward YN as if searching for an apology in her eyes.

"It's only been a month," YN whispers, fingers idly brushing the fading bite mark on his shoulder. "You knew she would keep checking on you."

"She'll ask again why I sleep out here." His gaze flicks to the door that leads from the guest wing into the hall. "She'll wonder what I'm hiding."

You're hiding me, YN thinks, and a tiny thrill cuts through the guilt pooling in her chest.

He reaches out-thumb tracing the ridge of her brow, smoothing a stray strand of hair away. "I should go back before she comes looking."

"Not yet," YN murmurs. She captures his hand, presses his palm to her cheek. "Give her ten more minutes. She's probably talking to Seokjin anyway."

A flicker of bitterness sparks in his eyes at the mention of his elder brother. "We don't know that for sure."

"We do," YN replies, voice barely more than breath. "You saw how she looked at him tonight. She's slipping, Joon." Her heart thuds at the new endearment-something soft and almost rightful in a world where nothing between them is. "Let her slip a little further."

He drags a hand through his hair, frustration and desire tangling in the gesture. "You really think waiting it out will make this easier?"

"It will make it cleaner," she answers, and despite everything, the word cleaner tastes twisted in her mouth. "If Haeri falls deeper for Seokjin, she'll ask for the divorce herself. Then no scandal, no parents screaming that you abandoned their perfect eldest daughter. And when she files, we can-"

"-stand in front of them without shame," he finishes, voice thick. "And you think they'll bless us?"

"They'll have no choice." YN props herself on one elbow, moonlight catching the sheen of sweat along her collarbone. "My parents only care about appearances. If Haeri ends the marriage, they'll blame her. They'll console themselves with the idea that their younger daughter is rescuing the family name by marrying the husband their elder daughter threw away."

Namjoon exhales, a single sharp laugh. "You've thought about this too much."

"Of course I have." She swallows, the memory of her mother's words curling like smoke in her chest:

You will not marry Namjoon. Your sister is older; she deserves the best.

The sting of that verdict had lived under YN's skin ever since. Tonight's pleasure hasn't erased it; it only sharpens the edges. "They pushed me aside, Joon. They taught me to plot instead of ask."

Guilt flickers across his face, but something darker settles behind it-understanding, perhaps even agreement. He leans down, brushing her lips with his. "I hate that they made you feel you had to fight for what you want like this."

"But you don't hate what I want," she whispers against his mouth.

"No," he admits, kissing her again-slow, searching. "I don't hate it at all."

His phone lights up once more; Haeri's name burns bright in the darkness. YN sighs and sinks back onto the pillows. "Go," she murmurs, though the word cracks. "Answer her. Be the devoted husband a little longer."

Namjoon sits up, reaching for his scattered clothes. Before he slips on his shirt, YN catches his wrist and draws him down. She presses her lips to the bruise beneath his jaw, where her earlier bite ripens violet.

"Let her see that one," she breathes. "Let her wonder who owns your heartbeat ."

His chest rises on a shaky inhale. He cups her face, holds her there for a heartbeat, two, then stands. "Ten more minutes," he promises, "and I'll be back."

YN watches him disappear into the hall, the door clicking shut behind him. Alone again, she pulls the sheet to her chin, staring at the ceiling where shadows flicker like restless ghosts. Regret curls around her ribs, but desire melts it away.

Wrong, a voice whispers. Necessary, she answers.

And in that fragile silence, she vows to herself: she will wait as long as it takes-until Haeri asks for freedom, until the world arranges itself to make Namjoon hers. If she must walk through fire and guilt, so be it. Because for once, Choi YN will not be the afterthought.

She closes her eyes, listening for his footsteps returning. Ten minutes. She is counting every second.

---

ON THE OTHER HAND......

Haeri is straddling Seokjin on the bed, her legs wrapped around his waist as they make out intensely. Seokjin's hands are roaming over her body, lifting her nightgown up to expose her thighs.

Seokjin groans deeply as Haeri sucks his lower lip, his hands sliding up to grip her ass tightly. He lifts her slightly, allowing himself to rub against her core through their clothes. "Baby..." he whispers against her lips, his voice husky with desire. Their tongues dance together passionately.

Seokjin suddenly flips Haeri onto her back on the bed, spreading her legs wide open. He settles between her legs, pressing himself against her. "You know I love it when you suck my lip like that..." He growls, pulling her nightgown up to her waist.

Seokjin wastes no time, pushing his boxers down just enough to free himself. Without wasting a moment, he slides into Haeri, making her gasp loudly. "Missed this pussy so much..." he whispers against her neck while thrusting slowly at first, then building up pace. "Baby..."

Haeri's moans fill the room as Seokjin fucks her harder and faster. She wraps her legs around him tightly, pulling him deeper inside her. "Right there..." she whimpers, her nails digging into his back. Seokjin kisses her neck hungrily while pounding into her.

"You... fucking feel so good..." Seokjin pants, hitting that spot deep inside her that makes her moan his name repeatedly. He grabs her wrists and pins them above her head, changing the angle to hit that spot perfectly with each thrust. Haeri arches her back, taking him deeper.

"I'm gonna... cum baby..." Seokjin growls, his pace becoming more urgent. He releases her wrists to grab her thighs, pushing them back further. "Look at how you're taking my dick..." He slips his hand between them, rubbing her clit while fucking her hard

Haeri screams Seokjin's name as she cums hard, her pussy clenching around him tightly. The sudden tightness sends Seokjin over the edge, he buries his face in her neck and groans deeply as he releases inside her, filling her up with his hot cum.

---

The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting silver lines across Seokjin's bare chest as he lay beside her, one hand lazily drawing circles over her thigh. Haeri was still breathless, flushed, her lipstick slightly smeared, hair tangled against the pillows. But her smile-her smile was perfect, like always.

She turned to look at him, eyes heavy with desire but sharper beneath. "You should go," he whispered, fingers brushing against her jaw. "Namjoon will be looking for you."

Haeri chuckled low in her throat. "You think he cares enough to check where I sleep?"

Haeri laughed, but it lacked warmth. "No. He doesn't care about anything these days... not even me."

She pushed herself up, wrapping the silk robe around her body. She walked to the mirror, adjusting her hair, dabbing her lips. She looked beautiful - exactly the way her mother always liked to see her. Graceful. Composed. Obedient.

But Haeri knew she was none of those things.

Behind her reflection, Seokjin's voice floated lazily. "You don't feel guilty, do you?"

Her smile flickered. "Not even a little."

---

HAERI'S POV

She had learned the art of pretending young. Haeri had always been good at it. Her eyes could water on command, her voice could tremble just the right way, her hands could shake when she needed them to. She was the golden child - not because she was perfect, but because she performed perfection flawlessly.

And YN? YN was the one who actually had it all.

Bright. Talented. Liked by everyone without even trying. Teachers praised her. Neighbors adored her. And worst of all - their parents trusted her without question.

But trust wasn't enough in their house. Love was a competition. Attention was a trophy. And Haeri never planned to lose.

---

She remembered the way her mother had reacted when YN once came running into the kitchen, cheeks flushed with excitement, eyes shining.

"Mom," YN had said softly, nervously twisting the hem of her dupatta. "I think... I want to marry Namjoon-oppa someday."

That was all she had said.

No grand confession. No plans. Just a quiet, honest thought.

And Haeri, standing behind the fridge door pretending not to hear, felt her heart catch fire.

No. She couldn't let that happen. Namjoon was hers. Had to be.

So she waited. Two weeks later, when her mother was folding laundry, Haeri struck.

"You know, Mom," she said sweetly, "I think Namjoon-oppa likes me. He compliments me a lot. And... I would never say this out loud, but YN talks about him so much. It's kind of embarrassing. What if she ruins your image in front of the Kim family?"

She had seen the shift immediately - her mother's lips pressing into a thin line, the way her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Haeri had pushed further.

"I just think... as the elder daughter, it would make more sense if I married first. It'll make the family look more proper."

By the end of that week, Haeri was engaged to Namjoon.

Just like that.

---

It had always been this way.

She'd break a vase? YN got scolded for leaving the window open.

She failed a test? Blamed it on YN distracting her with silly questions.

She'd cry and say YN never respects her. And her mother, desperate to protect her fragile elder daughter's image, would tighten her grip around YN's freedom.

And even now... even after she was married...

YN was still the shadow she couldn't bear to stand in.

---

AUTHOR'S POV

"You're thinking too much," Seokjin murmured from the bed, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

She turned, pulling her robe tighter. "I'm just... remembering things."

"About your husband?" he teased.

Haeri's smile was cool. "Namjoon was never mine. Not really. He married me because my mother asked him to. Because it made sense."

"And yet..." Seokjin's eyes flicked to the bruises on her inner thighs, "...you keep playing the dutiful wife in front of your family."

"It's easier that way. As long as I wear the right lipstick and smile at the right moments, they don't question anything."

---

She stepped into her bedroom a while later, alone again, slipping into the cold bed beside Namjoon - who was conveniently "asleep." She saw the faint marks on his neck even in the dark. They weren't from her.

She stared at the ceiling, heart oddly calm.

Let him have his little affair. Let YN think she's being clever, hiding glances and brushing past him in hallways.

Because Haeri knew something YN didn't:

If the world found out, they wouldn't forgive YN. They'd forgive her. The perfect elder daughter. The loyal wife. The quiet victim.

And when it all came crashing down - Haeri would still be standing, in white pearls and fake tears.

Like she always had.

---

STAY TUNE FOR PART 2 OF THIS...

Words count:- 3.2k