My CEO Ex-husband Wants To Remarry Me - Chapter 1282 - : I was wrong, okay?(4)

_ _ _ _ MXFXF relationship. Please read the note. Please add it to the collection then and support me. All feedback will be appreciated. Check my profile for more workShe was not the heiress, the eldest, or the youngest. She just existed in the family, keeping her head down and letting herself wash away until she could leave.“I tried standing out, staying quiet, and even voicing my thoughts. But no matter what I do, I am never acknowledged. Does my existence even matter? After all, it's not like anyone in this family even likes me.”Rika Goodwill was the shame of her family. Born the middle 'beta' child of a prominent Alpha-Omega couple, it was natural for her to be neglected compared to her perfect Alpha brother and sweet Omega sister.Her situation outside of her family was no better. People avoided her because of her mafia family and judged her nature without a second thought.Her only friends were the 'sweetheart couple of the century'. But Rika had somehow become a third wheel between their bickering and frequent breakups.Over the course of her 17-year-old life, Rika had come to accept her fate and move on. After all, no amount of complaining would ever change her situation of being a third wheel.Collage was supposed to be her big break. It was supposed to be the time Rika had for herself, where she could feel like herself, so she applied for a place where no one knew her.This was supposed to be her lucky break! Rika was supposed to get away from her worsening life.But neither her family nor her 'friends' were ready to let her go, and it did not take long for her peaceful life to turn sour.

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

'Dregs' reborn, aiming for a harmonious marriage, children gathered around the knees, and to beat up the scumbags and promiscuous women!The timid and unlucky her, turned life into a sigh, also causing that person and her children to become tragic figures.Reborn, she wants to engrave strength into her bones!Disasters one after another, difficult to fill the belly?No fear, with our Plant Ability in hand, seeds can turn into rice ears in minutes, and white rice and flour can be made at will!Ungrateful brats?Hmph, the education starts from the womb, determined to make them keep gratitude in their hearts.High-class women unable to give birth want to steal our children?Hehe, the woman rolled up her sleeves and sneered: Those not afraid to die, come and fight!Loyal dog: Wife, how can dirty work like fighting soil your hands? Leave it to me!Little radishes one, two, three, four, five, six all lift sticks: We are here too, we are here too, Mom, we brothers are all on the same vine with you!

“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.