Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: I Absolutely Won't Have Sex With You
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Alcohol.
When it starts fizzing into your bloodstream, it feels incredibly good.
Twelve hours or more of deep sleep.
Squirming around in bed and stretching it all out feels so damn refreshing.
Forcing a conversation with someone who openly hates my guts.
Even I, the owner of this body, get a little confused by it...,
...but this probably feels pretty damn good too.
"Can't break...? You know...?"
"Yes. Yes."
Seo Woo-jin, meekly taking the drink right in front of me.
Whenever I talk to him, I couldn't stop smiling the whole time.
My mouth corners keep twitching like crazy.
In Japan,
in Korea too.
I never met a guy like you who throws up such an iron wall at me.
...That's why.
It's way too fun.
On the flip side,
I'm dying to know what you're really thinking deep down.
"S bad? Is it baaad...? I just wanna gobble you up, that's allll..."
"I don't wanna get hit."
"C'mooon.... Sis'll make you feel reaaally good......"
"No, not interested. Go post on Twitter or something. Someone like you, dozens of pervs would flood your DMs begging to get trampled."
"Pffhh.... Shitty DMs.... Hate those.... Kinda gross, right...?"
"Haa..."
Sigh, huff, breathe in deep, board a packed subway car. Back to those pure middle school days when my heart raced every time,
up through high school, frustrated as hell with no guy who really clicked.
99% of dicks out there, like they made a pact...,
sneaking peeks at my body hidden under the uniform,
awkwardly shoving their hands in their pants pockets.
But you, same kind of guy—why the hell do you hate me?
Maybe.... You figured out what I want and you're doing it on purpose...
...Ahem.
In Japan, there's this thing called leather accounting.
In Korean,
don't sip the kimchi soup.
"Woo-jin-ah......"
"Yes."
"You... gay...?"
"No."
"Strong denial means strong yes...!"
"Who said that? Namho bro?"
"Yeah..."
"...I like girls too. You saw last time. Girl crashed at my place. You said you knew her through someone."
"True, but.... Smoke screen?"
"Haa..."
99% of idiots just stare from afar.
The 0.9% who step closer make creepy shutter clicks up close.
That much? Totally forgivable.
Doesn't wear out my body just from looking or snapping pics.
Cheap price for hunting decent guys.
The 0.1% who charge ahead? Way more aggressive than those half-assed males.
They'd stake their whole life on a nauseating confession to me.
So, time to hear my answer.
...In a quiet bathroom.
Just the two of us, face-to-face.
"...Got it. Lolita fetish, huh..."
"You drunk?"
"No, urk, otherwise.... Turning down a shot at fucking a girl like me makes no sense..."
"I just don't wanna get hit by you."
"Ung.... Then we could start slow with handcuffs..."
"Haa..."
Of course, my answer always started with NO.
Some were decent-looking rag-dick types,
potbellied balding uncle vibes like they had hypnosis apps,
even the school math teacher girls despised.
Whatever. NO.
Just panting after my dick wasn't 'my type' yet.
That's barely off the starting block—plenty of mountains left to climb.
Looks aside, need a body like Woo-jin's at minimum. Handsome? Bonus.
Big dick ideal.... But a guy like that wouldn't ditch his whole life to grope a JK's tits? Pure wishful thinking.
Most crucial: after tailing me to the bathroom, still act like a depraved eroge rapist protagonist trash to the bitter end...
But nope—even a little scare, and they all grovel, begging to live?
Wanna sloppy-fuck a mystery lewd high schooler in a park toilet on your commute? Shouldn't you rebel with a rock-hard dick, death be damned?
......Annoying.
Don't need wannabe males like you...
Just die.
Ordinary perv bastards just horny for a high school girl...
"I'm crashing at your place tonighttt..."
"No."
"C'mooon.... Sis'll show you tons of good feels..."
"...You look beat. Wanna head out?"
If the guy I bumped into on the Japanese train had been iron-wall Woo-jin...
He'd have fought back hard when I jumped him...
"Don't,"
"Wrist hurts, stop,"
cursing me out while I licked his lips, biting every spot with his teeth...
And.... eventually...
...Euhehe...
Sleepy...
22-year-old Yojora.
Actually, first time in a guy's place.
"......"
Kinda surprising.
A guy living this tidy.
I figured, naturally...
weird-smelling wadded tissues rolling across the floor?
room-temp water bottles with spit rimming the mouth, tossed everywhere?
fluid-smeared sex toys tripping you up?
Eh, wouldn't faze me.
Guess I binged too many red-label 19s.
Obviously fiction.
"Yojora sunbae."
"Ung..."
Seo Woo-jin, speaking as he steps inside first.
Maybe 'cause I ignored his blatant "get lost" vibes and pushed hard.
Voice way pricklier than yesterday's drinks.
......Heart pounding.
"Just in case, saying upfront."
"......?"
"I have zero plans to fuck you."
"Uek."
...Whaddya want me to do.
I just asked "wanna touch sis's body?"—haven't breathed a word about sex...
Pisses me off. Really gonna pounce...
One-room, jump him at the door—straight to bed.
He's a healing transcendent anyway; one power use and...
......
...Patience, just once.
Fourth goal's [do naughty stuff with Seo Woo-jin],
but first is [capture Seo Woo-jin]
And that reward: 30 years of Hibiki from Namho...
"Beauty trap flopped, so just look around and bounce."
"......"
Orange juice handy.... Ah, uh. You like OJ?
"......"
...This pisses me off too.
That hard press still lingers on my lower belly from earlier.
Pretend you don't notice...?
"...Nooot hard 'cause you want sex...?"
"Physiological response. Gets hard from stimulation, built that way."
"......"
What was physiological again.
Rolled it over, spat it out.
"Anyway, means the beauty trap worked.... right...?"
"...No."
"It diiid..."
"No."
"Sis's tits kneaded, got excited and haaard..."
"......"
Shot me a disgusted look, then bailed.
Hmph. I snorted through my nose and followed, kicking off my shoes to step inside the one-room.
Cool floor tickles my tiny soles.
Didn't want this? Shoulda bolted to a motel from the jump, dummy.
Looks sharp, but such a klutz—kinda cute.
"......"
...Of course.
That rough breast grab earlier.... Well...
Less klutz,
smack-dab my taste.
Makes me buy into those cheesy myths.
The Red Thread
Maybe a red string ties my pinky to Seo Woo-jin's...
Frustrated me ditching Japan for Korea—fate's red string pulling...
Then, gotta seize the moment now...
Miss Woo-jin now, no one else fills my 'fetish'...
"...Ahem."
Cleared my throat pointlessly and plastered myself to his side at the kitchen.
Sensed me? He glares while pouring the just-opened OJ into a cup.
His forearm—so I press my breast softly...
Still tingling from the squeeze, I lean in and ask.
"...Work with sis, and whenever we're alone, you can grope my tits like earlier..."
"No need."
"...C-could do even more...? Like..."
"No need."
Poke.
Pride crumpled.
These tits, huh? Know how popular in JC, JK days?
Subway hop, daily molester magnet—lewd meat slab...
"N-not honest... If no need, wouldn't grope so nasty..."
"You told me to."
"......"
Looking back, yeah.
I asked first "wanna touch?"—heck, he even double-checked if free rein was okay.
I clamped my lips, eyes darting every which way.
"I definitely said no at first."
"...That.... Um..."
"House? Nothing to see. One-room."
"......"
"Drink some juice and go. Won't head to the office no matter what you pull."
Seo Woo-jin shoved the OJ cup at me stiffly.
I like OJ decently, so I took it no fuss. He brushes past, shedding layers of clothes...
Eh?
Ah.
...Whoa, startling.
Just the outer layer.
"......"
My eyes roam up and down him repeatedly.
Sweet OJ slides down my throat.
...Body.
Sneakily good.
...No.
Blatantly... good.
"......"
...Hot body.
Aggressive-taste guy.
Infinitely better than lame-ass molesters.
Plus, weirdly iron-walling me...
A guy who hates me.
No one to yell for help if shit goes down.
Just-the-two-of-us room.
Dick. Big.
Pride.... Sky-high vibe.
If not fate's red thread,
what the hell else you call this.
"......Woo-jin-aa..."
"Yes."
"Said you'd absolutely never fuck me, righttt..."
"...Yeah."
"Ah, that..."
Been a while? I tamp down my tension-thumping heart.
Alcohol-fizz vessels too. Quiet sigh so Woo-jin won't hear, dial back the hype.
Set the half-empty cup in the sink.
Careful, careful—not letting on, lest he bolts. Creep up slow.
And then.
Entrance and Woo-jin.
Slot in between,
one line.
"...Gonna...
rape you..."
I grinned.