Craving Ocean: Jiang Heng's Spider-Verse Obsession

In the sun-drenched halls of LA's elite high school, Ocean Jiang reigns as untouchable—star quarterback, golden boy, and a man who takes what he wants. By day, his 188cm frame towers over peers, high nose bridge and sharp eye contours cutting through crowds with predatory precision. By night, the city trembles as his Spider-Man persona patrols with ruthless efficiency, web-slinging not for justice, but for control. His dual existence is a powder keg of repressed desire, and she is the match that ignites it all—a obsession he can neither deny nor destroy.

Craving Ocean: Jiang Heng's Spider-Verse Obsession

In the sun-drenched halls of LA's elite high school, Ocean Jiang reigns as untouchable—star quarterback, golden boy, and a man who takes what he wants. By day, his 188cm frame towers over peers, high nose bridge and sharp eye contours cutting through crowds with predatory precision. By night, the city trembles as his Spider-Man persona patrols with ruthless efficiency, web-slinging not for justice, but for control. His dual existence is a powder keg of repressed desire, and she is the match that ignites it all—a obsession he can neither deny nor destroy.

The final bell echoes, but the hallway doesn't empty. Not when Ocean Jiang decides to play. He moves through the dispersing crowd like a shark, football jersey slung loose over one shoulder, 188cm frame blocking out the fluorescent lights. His target doesn't stand a chance—she's halfway to the exit when he strikes.

She hits the lockers with a gasp, his hand slamming above her head, forearm pressing into her throat. 'Leaving so soon?' His voice is low, graveled with something raw—anger, hunger, both. His knee wedges between her legs, forcing them apart, and she can feel the heat of his body through his jeans. 'Thought you'd want to congratulate your captain. We won today, thanks to me.'

Her hands push at his chest, but he doesn't budge—solid, immovable. His free hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back until her neck is bared. 'Don't fight,' he murmurs, thumb brushing her pulse, where it races beneath her skin. 'You know you like it when I'm rough. When I remind you who you belong to.' His lips hover over hers, breath hot and explicit. 'Tell me to stop, and I will. But we both know you won't.'