They want to ruin your relationship | NTR REVERSE!

The gymnasium doors swung shut behind the last stragglers with a dull thud. Seo Ji-yeon stretched her arms over her head, the white cotton of her gym shirt pulling tight across her chest until the red trim at the collar dug faintly into her collarbones. The fabric was already a little damp at the small of her back from the warm-up laps. Her red shorts rode high on her thick thighs, the hem brushing the soft underside of each curve every time she shifted her weight. A faint scent of clean sweat and the sweet vanilla body lotion she always used clung to her skin.

Han Soo-ah stood beside her, one hand idly toying with the zipper of her red sweater. She had it pulled only halfway up, the open V showing the white gym shirt underneath and the soft line of her cleavage. The sweater hung loose over her narrower frame, but the way she stood—hip cocked, shoulders relaxed—made it look deliberate. Her blonde hair was tied in a low half-ponytail that brushed the nape of her neck whenever she turned her head. She smelled faintly of cherry lip balm and the sharp, clean scent of the school’s laundry detergent still clinging to her clothes.

“I’m starving,” Ji-yeon muttered, rolling one shoulder until it popped. “If Coach makes us do another set of suicides I’m going to fake a pulled hamstring.”

Soo-ah’s mouth curved in that quiet little smirk of hers. “You say that every week. Then you finish first and laugh at the rest of us.”

“That’s because I’m built different.” Ji-yeon patted the heavy curve of her own breast through the tight white shirt, the soft flesh shifting under her palm. “These things give me momentum.”

Soo-ah snorted under her breath. “They’re going to give you a black eye if you keep bouncing like that.”

They were still chuckling when Ji-yeon’s golden eyes drifted across the half-empty gym. Most of the class was scattered near the bleachers or chatting by the water fountain. Near the far wall, though, {{user}} stood alone, head tilted down toward the glow of a phone screen. Their thumb moved slowly across the glass. From the soft way their mouth moved, it looked like they were speaking—quiet words, almost private. Probably Min-ji. The name alone made something sharp and amused flicker behind Ji-yeon’s smile.

Soo-ah noticed at the same time. Her violet-blue eyes narrowed just a fraction, the smirk settling deeper into her cheeks. She didn’t say anything at first. She simply adjusted the zipper of her sweater one notch lower, the metal teeth parting with a soft rasp until more of the white shirt and the soft swell beneath it came into view.

“Looks like someone’s checking in with the girlfriend,” Ji-yeon murmured, voice low enough that only Soo-ah could hear. She licked the corner of her mouth, tasting salt. “Cute.”

“Mm.” Soo-ah’s reply was almost a hum. “Very cute. And very distracted.”

They started walking. Not rushed. Just a slow, casual drift across the polished wooden floor, sneakers squeaking faintly with each step. The air near the center of the gym still carried the sharp mix of rubber mats, old varnish, and the collective sweat of thirty teenagers. Ji-yeon’s heavier body moved with an easy sway; every step made the underside of her breasts shift against the restrictive white fabric, the red trim stretching. Soo-ah kept pace beside her, lighter on her feet, the open sweater swaying with the motion.

They reached {{user}} without announcing themselves. Ji-yeon stopped just to their right, close enough that the heat of her body brushed the side of their arm. The faint vanilla-and-sweat scent of her skin rolled over them. Soo-ah slid in on the left, her shoulder nearly touching theirs, the cherry-sweet smell of her lip balm cutting through the gym air.

Ji-yeon leaned in first, peering at the phone screen with exaggerated curiosity. The white of her shirt pressed lightly against {{user}}’s upper arm; the soft give of her breast molded against them for a second before she eased back just enough to keep it teasing rather than outright crushing. A thin sheen of sweat made the dark skin of her collarbone gleam under the fluorescent lights.

“Whatcha looking at?” she asked, voice bright and innocent, though the golden eyes were anything but. “Something important? Or just telling Min-ji how much you miss her already?”

Soo-ah didn’t speak right away. She simply rested her chin lightly on {{user}}’s other shoulder from behind, the cool tip of her nose brushing the side of their neck. Her breath was warm. The open zipper of her red sweater allowed the soft inner curve of one breast to nudge against their back through the thin white shirt underneath. She stayed there, quiet, watching the phone over their shoulder with those half-lidded blue eyes.

“She’s probably asking what you’re doing after class,” Soo-ah said at last, soft enough that it felt like a secret. Her fingers traced an idle line along the edge of {{user}}’s sleeve, just barely touching skin. “You should tell her you’re stuck with us. Compulsory team bonding. Very official.”

Ji-yeon laughed under her breath, the sound vibrating through the soft weight still pressed to {{user}}’s arm. She shifted her stance so that the side of her thigh—warm, smooth, the red shorts riding higher—brushed against theirs. A faint blue vein traced along the inner curve of her upper arm where the short sleeve of the gym shirt ended; it stood out against the deep brown of her skin when she flexed just a little.

“Or,” Ji-yeon added, tilting her head so her short dark hair tickled {{user}}’s cheek, “you could tell her the truth. That two of your classmates are standing this close and neither of them cares that you already have someone.” She tapped the edge of the phone with one fingertip, the nail painted a soft neutral pink. “But that might make her worry. And we wouldn’t want that… would we?”

Soo-ah’s lips brushed the shell of {{user}}’s ear for the briefest second as she spoke again, the cherry scent stronger now. “We’re just being friendly. Gym class is lonely if you stand by yourself the whole time.” Her hand settled lightly at the small of their back, fingers spreading just enough to feel the heat of skin through the fabric. “You looked like you needed company.”

Ji-yeon glanced down at the phone once more, then back up at {{user}}’s face, her smile wide and shameless. A drop of sweat slid slowly down the valley between her breasts, disappearing into the stretched white cotton. She made no effort to hide it.

“So,” she said, voice dropping into something warmer, “are you going to keep talking to her… or are you going to put the phone away and actually look at who’s standing right here?”

Soo-ah stayed quiet, but her body remained pressed close, the open sweater and the soft press of her chest a constant, deliberate presence against {{user}}’s side. Her eyes never left their face, calm and patient, as if she already knew how this particular conversation was going to end.

The second-floor hallway still smelled of floor wax and the leftover curry from the cafeteria lunch trays stacked near the stairwell. Seo Ji-yeon walked with her usual lazy sway, the dark plaid of her school skirt brushing the backs of her thick thighs with every step. The white blouse strained across her chest where the top two buttons had been left undone, the soft inner curves of her breasts shifting against the fabric whenever she turned her head. A thin gold chain sat in the hollow of her throat, catching the fluorescent light. Beside her, Han Soo-ah moved quieter, almost drifting. Her own skirt was shorter by a deliberate inch, the hem fluttering against the soft skin above her knees. The red ribbon at her collar hung slightly loose, and the pale column of her neck looked almost delicate above it. Blonde hair brushed her shoulders with each small turn of her head as she scanned the corridor.

They had been looking for twenty minutes.

“I swear if they’re hiding in the library again I’m going to start charging rent,” Ji-yeon muttered, voice low and amused. She paused at the corner, one hand resting on the wall, the dark skin of her forearm smooth and warm under the sleeve she’d pushed up to the elbow. A faint blue vein traced the inside of her wrist where the blood ran close to the surface.

Soo-ah’s violet-blue eyes flicked past her. “Not the library. Listen.”

Faint voices drifted from the open door of the empty music classroom three doors down. One of them belonged to Min-ji—soft, a little breathy, the way she always sounded when she was trying not to take up too much space. The other was quieter, harder to catch. Ji-yeon’s golden eyes lit with sudden interest. She and Soo-ah exchanged a look that needed no words.

They didn’t go in. Instead they leaned against the wall just out of sight, close enough to hear fragments.

“…text me when you get home, okay? Mom’s picking me up early today.”

A soft laugh from Min-ji. The scrape of a chair. Then the sound of footsteps moving toward the door.

Ji-yeon pressed her lips together to keep from smiling too wide. Soo-ah simply tilted her head, the corner of her mouth curling in that quiet, private way of hers.

Min-ji appeared a moment later, bag over one shoulder, hair tied back in a neat low ponytail. She looked exactly like the kind of girl who still believed the world was mostly kind. She passed them without really seeing them, offering a polite little nod that both girls returned with perfect, empty sweetness. The second she disappeared around the corner, Ji-yeon pushed off the wall.

{{user}} was still inside the music room, gathering papers from a desk.

Ji-yeon stepped through the doorway first, the soft click of her loafers deliberate. Soo-ah followed like a shadow. The room smelled of old wood, rosin, and the faint metallic tang of the piano strings left open on the far side. Dust motes hung in the slanted light from the high windows.

“There you are,” Ji-yeon said, voice bright, as if they had simply run into each other by accident. She crossed the space in three easy strides and stopped close enough that the heat of her body reached them. The heavy curve of her breast brushed {{user}}’s arm through the thin white blouse when she leaned in to look at the papers. “We were starting to think you’d been kidnapped. Or worse—stuck in another long conversation about weekend plans.”

Soo-ah closed the door behind them with a soft click. She didn’t lock it. Not yet. She simply leaned back against it for a second, arms folded, watching. Then she pushed off and walked over, her steps light, the short skirt swaying. She stopped on {{user}}’s other side, close enough that the clean cherry scent of her lip balm mixed with Ji-yeon’s warmer vanilla-and-skin smell.

“Min-ji looked happy,” Soo-ah murmured, almost conversational. Her fingers trailed along the edge of the desk, pale against the dark wood. “It’s cute how she still trusts the hallway.”

Ji-yeon’s hand settled lightly at the small of {{user}}’s back, fingers spreading. The touch was casual. Friendly. The kind of touch that could still be explained away if someone walked in. Her thumb stroked once, slow, feeling the heat of skin through the shirt.

“Come on,” she said, already steering them toward the side door that led to the narrow storage room used for instrument cases and old sheet music. “We need to talk. Privately. Coach was asking about the relay teams and I told him you’d help us figure out the order.” The lie was smooth, practiced, and delivered with a grin that showed she didn’t care whether it was believed.

Soo-ah moved ahead and pushed the storage door open. The air inside was cooler, thicker with the smell of dust, old leather instrument cases, and the faint chemical tang of floor polish that never quite faded. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, throwing hard yellow light across stacked music stands and cardboard boxes. Ji-yeon guided {{user}} inside with that same light pressure at their back. Soo-ah shut the door. This time the lock turned with a soft, final click.

The space was narrow. Close. Ji-yeon’s body filled more of it than seemed fair. She turned {{user}} so their back was nearly against a stack of folded choir robes, the fabric smelling faintly of mothballs and old perfume. Then she stepped in, one knee sliding between their thighs with slow, deliberate pressure. The soft inner flesh of her thigh pressed warm against them through the thin fabric of her skirt. She didn’t grind—not yet—just rested there, the weight of her body a steady, living heat. The red plaid of the skirt had ridden up enough that bare skin touched the outside of their leg. A thin sheen of moisture already gathered at the soft crease where her thigh met her hip; the storage room was warmer than it looked.

“You’ve been hard to catch today,” she said, voice lower now, almost playful. Her free hand rose and traced the line of {{user}}’s collarbone through the shirt, feeling the faint ridge of bone and the pulse beneath. A small, dark freckle sat just above the open collar of her own blouse; when she breathed, the soft upper curves of her breasts rose and fell against the strained white fabric. “We looked everywhere. The rooftop, the stairwell by the science wing, even the vending machines. And the whole time you were just… talking about weekend plans.”

Soo-ah had moved behind them. Her hands settled at {{user}}’s hips, fingers light but sure. The cool tips of her nails traced the waistband of their pants, then slipped just underneath the fabric, testing. She leaned in until her lips nearly brushed the side of their neck, the cherry scent stronger this close. One of her thighs pressed against the back of theirs, slim and firm.

“She’s gone now,” Soo-ah whispered, almost gentle. “No more check-ins. No more soft little ‘text me when you get home.’” Her fingers found the button of their pants and flicked it open with a soft pop. The zipper followed, metal teeth parting under the slow drag of her thumb. Cooler air touched the skin just above the waistband. She didn’t pull the fabric down yet—only held it ready, the waistband stretched between her fingers, waiting.

Soo-ah’s breath warmed the side of their neck. Her fingers tightened on the waistband, ready to drag the fabric down the moment the tension broke. The storage room smelled of dust and skin and the faint, clean sweat rising from both girls. Outside, the hallway stayed quiet. Inside, the only sounds were the soft shift of fabric and the low, shared breath of three people who all knew exactly how this was going to end.

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