MTL - Can You Love Me? - Chapter 15 Like you for many years

Ye Zhenzhen, the omnipotent queen of the film industry, transmigrated as the despised cannon-fodder villainess and wicked stepmother in a novel. Her husband was wealthy but had a superficial relationship with her, and her stepson was adorable but indifferent towards her.According to the book's original plot, this cannon-fodder villainess was about to face a tragic ending...Ye Zhenzhen thought, 'Since I've transmigrated into the book, why should I fear these 2D characters?'In the face of her cold and distant plastic husband's words, she retorted, “How can a grown man with a body temperature of thirty-seven degrees speak such icy and heartless words to his wife?”Then, she was faced with the irrational demands of her stepson's classmate's mother, “Ye Zhenzhen, you owe me an apology.”She scoffed disdainfully, “Apologize to you? Will you kneel and listen to me if I do?”With her outstanding professional skills, she turned her life around by hosting a parent-child variety show, becoming an overnight sensation, and receiving countless acting offers!The stepson, who used to address her distantly and never as his mother, suddenly said, “My mom, Ye Zhenzhen, is the kindest and most beautiful woman in the world!”Haters: “So what if she's pretty? She married an old man for money!”One day, her plastic husband appeared at a charity gala and introduced himself, “Hello, everyone. I am Ye Zhenzhen's husband, the rumored old man.”The audience below couldn't believe their eyes and ears! The handsome and wealthy CEO of Huan Ya Group was Ye Zhenzhen's husband?!Haters: “Being slapped back in the face like this hurt like hell!!”

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.

After transmigrating to a world similar to Earth, Jiang Qiao was approached by a former goddess—Ocean Blue. As Bluestar is also on the verge of collapse from invaders of other worlds, Jiang Qiao must find a way to save this one. With the ability to create a virtual game world, he creates the world of Sacred Souls. In order for this new world to grow, it has to devour other worlds. Thus, the greediest, most cunning, and horrible beings came into existence—Players.

“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.