I’m a Villainess but So Popular - Chapter 115

CONTENT WARNING:/This novel contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised./---She ran from the devil who raised her…And married the one who wore a crown.After her parents’ tragic death, Lydia Andreyevna’s life became a nightmare. Stripped of her name, inheritance, and freedom by her uncle—Lord Alexander—she was treated like property and promised to a Count four times her age.Desperate to escape, she fled into the cold night… and straight into blood.A stranger. Wounded. Beautiful. Terrifying.She should’ve left him.But she didn’t.She touched him once—and fate branded her forever.Her uncle caught her the next morning. Her escape failed. But when she begged Queen Olga for protection, the Queen offered her a deadly bargain:Marry the masked Grand Duke of Zolotaria.The king’s hunting dog. The butcher of the East. The devil in a crown.The man feared by kings.The heir to the throne.The same man she once saved.Ivan Romanov.They say he bathes in blood. That he kills without blinking. That he conquered kingdoms with a smile behind a mask. That no one sees his face—and lives.Some call him the devil. Others call him Death’s favorite son.But behind the mask is the same man she found dying in the dark.The same voice that haunted her dreams.The same hands she once held.Now, he’s her husband.Her jailer.Her obsession.She doesn’t know if she’s his prisoner, or his weakness.Cold and untouchable, Ivan doesn’t share his bed. Doesn’t share his secrets. But she sees it—the hunger in his eyes. The pain in his silence. The way he looks at her like she’s the only thing keeping his demons at bay.She should fear him.She should hate him.But the moment she dares to take off his mask… it’s already too late.Because Ivan wants her—her fire, her body, her heart.And in his world, what he wants, he keeps.Even if it means burning down the kingdom.She thought she was running from hell.She ended up in his bed.And the most dangerous thing of all?She doesn’t want to leave.

Han Qiwu acquired a farm game system similar to Stardew Valley. While farming, fishing, and mining in his own fields, he can obtain high-quality loot. At the same time, he can also craft various ultra-high-quality farming tools, and he enjoys a brand new version loaded with an Oriental Mod!Peach blossoms bloom in March, picked to brew peach blossom wine.Loquats ripen in May, harvested to make loquat cake.Spring doves sing on the roof, white apricot flowers by the village.Learn recipes from Shennong, trade pets with Chiyou.Farming games are indeed fun, but playing can really be a grind!Fortunately, Han Qiwu gradually found the joy in grinding during his exploration...

Content Warning: R-18, Fantasy-Smut, Fetishes.Luke Hunter was once an average dairy farmer who lived in the countryside and supplied milk to a large company.After getting involved in a work-related accident, he dies a virgin and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world as the son of a very rich and powerful noble.Even though his noble family's domain is still in the countryside, this new life is nothing like the previous one.He has MoneyHe has Magic.He has a System.... And he has a big PP!Watch as Luke Hunter, the last born of the Hunter Noble Family, and only male heir to the Dukedom, begins to achieve his dream of tasting the breastmilk of women belonging to every single race in this fantasy world.The journey of Milk Harvesting is just beginning!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.