Novel & Cerita Oh God Not Again Ao3

On the day of the United Nations meeting, I noticed a new electronic watch on my wife’s wrist. She said it was a gift from her first love to monitor her health. It was a veiled jab, which implied I was not as thoughtful or caring as an outsider. Something felt off, so during her lunch break I secretly checked, and found a bugging device. I reported it immediately, using my official title to cover her wrongdoing. Her first love, however, was now wanted by the authorities. While fleeing, he tragically died in a car accident. My wife said coldly that it served him right, yet treated me with even more care and attention. However, she deliberately leaked my translation files at work, which resulted in me being accused of espionage and taken in for investigation. “Miles, that bug was clearly planted by you. You were jealous of Ash and wanted him dead!” “I truly regret giving up Ash to marry someone as malicious as you. You should go to hell and atone for him!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back there once again on the day her first love gave her that watch. I did not interfere this time. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers.

Azalea Hart spent everything she had on taking care of her sick brother. No parents, no family, just a cruel stepsister who feeds her and bullies her every now and then. However, a light appeared at the end of her tunnel during one of he brother's sick days... "You're not almost dead... You're already dead!" Edwin Clark whispered eeriely as he sank his fangs into the nape of her neck. Azalea chocked, almost dying but his eyes had changed, filled with nothing but regret of.... What have I done? "You... You're my mate?" Fuck it! Azalea know nothing about mates. The burning pain has turned into horny sensation and the young virgin craves nothing.... But his touch. She touched him. He became obsessed.... No. Obsession is an understatement, he became mad. "My Mr Vampire, has gone mad, again" she would whisper anytime she met herself on his bed. But his appearance gradually becomes more than she anticipated.

Arka Mahendra, a former Special Forces General, returned to the city carrying wounds and a buried past. To save the only family he had left, he accepted a contract to become the personal bodyguard of the most powerful woman in Mahatara City. What no one knew was that the man they hired for protection was the storm itself. As hidden forces began to emerge, enemies from the corporate world and the underworld started moving in the shadows. Bound by a two-year contract, Arka Mahendra was forced to make a choice, remain a weapon for hire, or once again become the ruler of the battlefield feared by all.

Natalie Underwood and Damian Abbott were high school sweethearts. Both of them were the most good-looking students back in high school, and when they began dating, they were the most well-known golden couple on campus. There was once when they had made a vow to get married once they reached the legal age to do so. But just when their love for each other reached its peak, Natalie suddenly broke up with Damian before leaving the country with a rich scion. On the day of their break-up, Damian chased after Natalie for a very long time with red-rimmed eyes. To think that a young man as prideful as him kept begging her not to break up with him. He kept promising her that he would be successful one day. Damian begged Natalie not to act so rashly. He pleaded with her to wait for him and not to fall in love with someone else. But Natalie remained cold and aloof to him. She didn't even want to waste her breath on him. Heck, when she witnessed him getting into a car accident during his pursuit, she didn't bother returning to him. It was an extremely serious car crash. Damian's kidney was completely ruptured. He needed a kidney transplant in order to survive. Although he was lying on the surgical table while drenched in his own blood, he insisted on getting up so that he could call Natalie on the phone. But the calls that he had mustered all of his strength to place ended up getting hung up by Natalie repeatedly. For as deep as Damian's love for Natalie ran, hatred could run just as deep. From that day onward, Damien had nothing but burning hatred for Natalie.

What is obsession? Am I obsessed? At first, I was just his substitute, then I became his real bride, then the supposed real bride returned, and I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to divorce. Then I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t fucking die. Then I became a stalker of my ex-husband, who barely remembers me because I was declared dead by the world, and my face got melted down when acid was poured on me. I had a surgery that changed my whole face and my entire identity. Then I started working for him again and he fell in love with the new me, yet still traumatized by the old me, so I had to reveal to him that I was the same person. He was happy and relieved, but the world wasn’t. We were chewed on, spat out, and stepped on. Then he was fired from his company by his grandmother, who adopted a new son to take over the company. Then I was kidnapped again, and bombs were planted on me. We were able to defuse the bomb and escape. Then we were shot in the head by God knows who. His surgery was successful, but mine wasn’t, so I forgot everything about him and was forbidden to remember because a damn bullet is stuck in my head that could kill me if it moves to a sensitive part of my brain. Then suddenly, he was on the TV, framed for murder. I couldn’t hold back, I found myself in prison fighting for him with a gun in my hand, and somehow ended up in a coma, because the damn bullet in my head shifted… to the wrong direction. Then, in between this chaos, the doctor announced I-was-pregnant.

"Say it," Blaze growled, one hand on the wall beside Micah’s head. "I-I don’t want this," Micah breathed, gripping the crucifix in his hand, trembling as Blaze leaned closer" He was an ordained priest, he shouldn't be wanting a man or anyone like this, especially not his brother. "But your body's already sinning," Blaze whispered, fingers brushing his lips. "And I’ll make sure that when next you get on your knees, it'll be for me." ~ Micah Sawyer's dream had always been to become a priest, to serve, to be a vessel of purity in a broken world. But nothing could prepare him for the day he returned to Haloshul and crossed paths with Blaze. His stepbrother. His first sin. The sharp humoured boy who once teased him about his faith in their teenage stages had become a crime boss, a man soaked in danger, tattoos, a ruinous passion and obsession. When Blaze is wounded in a mysterious gang crossfire, he refuses treatment unless Micah comes. That one visit spirals into a kiss that shatters Micah's faith and unearths a hunger he cannot name. As Blaze draws him into a world of seduction, power, and spiritual decay, Micah is forced to confront the aching truth, his emptiness isn't cured by prayer, but by the very man he should be trying very hard to resist. Their entanglement isn't just forbidden, it's taboo.

She died in peace, guarding the river for three days and three nights, came to collect the body but not her husband - looking at the man gently kissed his swollen and rotting corpse, she shook in her heart, secretly promised: if she can be reborn, she must marry him! ...... Later, she was really reborn, but became his sister (⊙o⊙) Murong Cheng said, "If you dare to die to me again, I don't mind changing my mind and cavorting with a corpse." She can't cry, my brother! You've been a pervert for a long time, okay?

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.

One of my roommates at the dorm was a competitive person. Whenever I studied, she would be anxious. If I opened a package, she would ask me what I was buying. She would also pressure me to tell her my whereabouts. There was even a time when I turned in my bed, she suddenly opened my divider curtain and asked me if I was secretly studying. I was literally going to go insane, but our nonchalant counsellor told me that I was overreacting. After that, I failed to secure a postgraduate position, but she managed to study overseas. When she returned, she became my supervisor. She told everyone she met that I was a very competitive person, and she kept assigning a lot of tasks for me to do. In the end, I died from overworking. When I opened my eyes again, I saw her get into my bed. I recorded the sound of pages flipping and turned on the night light. I played the recording for the entire night. If she wanted to be anxious and lose her sleep, so be it!

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.