Don't Even Think About Turning This Straight Simp Gay

I, Cheng Ze, am a simp. And not just any simp. I’m the campus belle’s simp. So what if the campus belle keeps me on the hook? It’s because she loves me. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she do it to someone else? Damn it, the campus belle I simp for is going after someone else! Am I heartbroken? No. Don’t forget, I’m a simp. From now on, I’ll buy two breakfasts. But Shi Yunyu looks at me strangely, as if he wants to eat me alive. I decide to find another goddess to simp for. I never expected my goddess to have a rich fiancé. Zhou Heting ties me up, and I cling to his leg, begging for mercy. He lifts my chin, smiling faintly. “Anything?” I nod frantically. That night, my masculine dignity gets thoroughly ground into the bed. After my ass heals, the simp genes deep in my bones start stirring again. I return to my old ways and start simping for a junior girl. Heh, things are finally looking up. She actually replies to my messages. With a nice, round, adorable period. She summed up what I said. She must like me! I simp even harder, and she starts to melt. When things get passionate, I’m ready to show off my prowess, but... it’s bigger than mine?! Tears slip from the corners of my eyes. I can’t figure it out. How can a straight guy like me end up surrounded by men? And damn it, there are several of them! *One-on-one pairings at different stages *Third-person narration *A straight guy gets turned gay. The bottom is a true simp with a very unusual thought process. Next book: Can an Honest Guy Be a Succubus Too? One bottom, multiple tops, everyone loves him. This is a fantastical era where people take pride in abstinence and consider indulgence shameful. Shu Shuang Sang is a succubus. He’s weak and ugly. He doesn’t have delicate features or a seductive aura. Instead, he looks a little childish, and his innocent eyes could cleanse any trace of smut. He’s fully grown but still hasn’t found a master, and is nearly starving to death, so Shu Shuang Sang has no choice but to apply to the organization for assistance. The organization soon sends him a client: a seventeen-year-old boy. The master is too young and still has to take his college entrance exams. Shu Shuang Sang can’t bear to corrupt him. The most he does is hold hands and share kisses, leaving himself hungry. Luckily, the underground industry is thriving. Shu Shuang Sang steels himself, puts on a blindfold, and starts livestreaming. At the company retreat, Shu Shuang Sang gets drunk and accidentally ends up in bed with his immediate supervisor. Honest Shu Shuang Sang doesn’t know what to do. His supervisor unhurriedly puts on a black uniform, buttons it all the way to the top, slips on gold-rimmed glasses, and deftly opens Shu Shuang Sang’s suggestive-content account on his phone. The honest guy in the videos is anything but. Mood lighting, sensual music, black lace covering his eyes. Even without showing his face, he’s captivated a huge audience. His supervisor taps the especially full chest on the screen, and a red heart appears. “Shu Shuang, you wouldn’t want your coworkers to find out about this, would you?” The honest guy is anxious. What if his master finds out about this... Perhaps he’s been worrying too much. That night, Shu Shuang Sang has a nightmare. A tall shadow seems to press down on him in the dream, teasing him. The man laughs cruelly. “The mulberries are so ripe they’ve turned purple.” Embarrassed, Shu Shuang Sang turns his face away, but the man grabs his jaw and bites his lip hard. “When you do something wrong, you deserve to be punished.” “Who are you...” The man whispers in his ear, “What belongs to my younger brother belongs to me too.” Shu Shuang Sang is stunned and jolts awake. His master’s twin brother died years ago! Two Mulberry Trees upload a video of the two of them together. The sky is neither light nor dark, and rain streams down the floor-to-ceiling window. A commanding man in a white shirt corners Shu Shuang Sang by the window. One hand grips his slender waist, the other his throat, tipping up his chin. The music swells. The man slowly lowers his head. The video racks up a million hearts, and the demon hunter’s anger nears its breaking point. After work, Shu Shuang Sang is attacked. In a long alley lit by warm yellow lamps, a slender figure emerges from the darkness, idly playing with a whip. His voice is icy. “I’ve been following you for a long time.” Honest Shu Shuang Sang trembles. “I’m sorry, but I really haven’t hurt any humans...” The demon hunter’s whip coils around Shu Shuang Sang’s ankle like a snake, cold and clammy. “I’m very angry.” The whip travels upward, lifting the hem of Shu Shuang Sang’s clothes. A tattoo on his lower abdomen marks him as a succubus. Despair washes over Shu Shuang Sang. Do succubi really never escape a demon hunter’s grasp? The demon hunter doesn’t dare touch the moon in his heart. Only the whip, a symbol of his master’s will, can wind tightly around him. “Shu Shuang, could you delete that video?” Theme: Every flower has someone who appreciates its bloom