Uncle And Niece Relationship 소설 & 이야기

Vivian, an 18 year old final year student, graduated from university and got entangled in a love situation. Growing up, Vivian had always dreamed of becoming a top model and working with top models. But what happens when her crush in the university asked her out and she got too attached in the newly found relationship, forgetting that she had dreams to fulfill?. And what happens when she found out that her longtime crush turned out to be the kind of boy she doesn't want to be with? Her mother died when she was just two, she didn't have much memory of her, but she was blessed with a caring father that Carried out both the mother and father role. Life of course has its own way of giving you a beautiful thing but taking it in an unexpected way. This story will make you cry, laugh and even hate some of the characters at some point, but most important, learn that all that glitters are not gold.

"I've loved you for a long time, Uncle." ~ Clara Rusadi. "No way, Clara, you have high taste but sorry, you're not my type!" said Joe Sebastian cruelly. ~~~~~~•••••~~~~~~ Clara, a 17-year-old girl, is just in the 3rd year of high school. She was forced to confess her love to a man 18 years older than her. Yes, because only Joe Sebastian could make her enchanted and fall in love. However, the man rejected Clara's love, because he only saw her as a younger sister. Joe understood Clara's stubborn nature very well. He was forced to reject her cruelly. What will Clara do? Will he give up? Or is she still struggling to fight for her love for Joe? ===

“I am your guardian, Elara. Not your friend—and certainly not your uncle.” — Alaric Vance In a single night, Elara Thorne loses everything—her family, her fortune, and the life she once knew. Left with nothing but her name and a mountain of debt, she is forced into the custody of the one man she should fear the most: Alaric Vance. Her late father’s most ruthless protégé. The man she once admired from a distance. The man who now holds absolute control over her future. Inside Alaric’s glass-and-steel penthouse, Elara is trapped under his strict rules and cold authority. But beneath his calculated indifference lies something far more dangerous—a dark, possessive desire that blurs the line between protector and predator. The closer she gets to the truth, the more she realizes that Alaric isn’t just guarding the remnants of her family’s legacy… he may be the one who destroyed it. As forbidden tension ignites and secrets unravel, Elara must decide: is Alaric Vance her only salvation… or the very man who orchestrated her downfall?

“Fuck me, Dante.” He was my uncle. Not by blood, but by name, by family, by everything that should’ve kept me safe from him. Instead, it made me his obsession. Dante Martinez—consigliere of the Italian mafia, the man who could dismantle empires with a single glance. One family dinner. One lingering gaze across the table. One move into his penthouse that became my undoing. He warned me not to test him. I ignored him. He promised he’d break me if I kept pushing. I pushed harder. Now I know what it means when a monster decides to love you—when his control snaps and you’re dragged into the darkness he rules. He says I’m his ruin. But Dante was never my salvation. He was always the sin I was born to crave.

It was an adult site which brought us together. We chatted for a week and finally decided on three nights. Three nights of pleasure — and after that, no contact with each other. But by the third night, I got too addicted to him. To the one, whose name I still don’t know. He was my Mr. Stranger. My match. Even though we decided on three nights, and they were over, I wanted more. But the thing that shocked me was the website that connected us vanished the day after our third night. It’s been two years now, and I’m still unable to forget those three nights. Still looking for him. And then… I found him. The man I gave my body to the one who ruined me so sweetly is now sitting across the table at a family dinner. My Mr. Stranger Now My step-uncle. Was it just a coincidence, or a well-planned event? And how did that website get deleted right after that day? Will I really be able to stay away from the only man I craved for two entire years? Was I the only one feeling this way, or was he no different from me? Did he want me as much as I wanted him? Whatever it was, I was in a deep mess with no way out . warning : this is steamy story.

For eight years, I stayed by John Harlem's side, even without a title. I was there when he recovered and rose from his wheelchair, and I was there when he clawed his way out of depression. I thought that one day, if I endured long enough, he would see my sincerity and affection for him. And we might end up together. But when his first love returned to the country, all my hopes turned into delusions. He told me to put away feelings I should never have had and remain by his side as nothing more than his "sister". For her, he deceived me, humiliated me, and pushed me away. What he never knew was that in helping him heal, I had absorbed far too much of his darkness. The very day he stopped taking his medication, I was diagnosed with severe depression. In order to save myself, I chose to let him go… and married his uncle instead. But at my wedding, he set aside his pride and dignity, dropped to his knees before everyone, and begged me for nothing more than a single glance.

I have been in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend, Eugene Walsh, for three years. I finally have enough leave time to visit him after working overtime for an entire month. But when I arrive, I can't reach him. I wait alone in an unfamiliar city for ten full hours before he finally replies. When the call connects, my best friend, Haley Woodward, greets me with a cheerful laugh. "Surprise! I explored Oakhaven for you in advance. It's so much fun! Eugene is an amazing tour guide!" She chatters nonstop about all the fun they've had, as if she never notices the 30 missed calls displayed on Eugene's phone. I listen quietly. Only when she says she's cold does Eugene finally take the phone from her and say to me, "I'll take her back to the hotel first. Wait for me a little while more." The moment he is done speaking, I ask, "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" Eugene pauses for a second before saying icily, "She's your best friend. Do you really have to compete with her over this?" The unmistakable accusation drains away any desire I have to keep talking. I hung up. Just then, the cab that will take me back to Centuria arrives. The driver takes one look at me and can't help but comment, "Miss, it's already past midnight. This area isn't very safe. How can your family leave you here all alone?" I look down at my shoes that are soaked through by snow and slush. In a soft voice, I say, "Yeah." Then, I smile and add, "They won't. Not anymore."

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

My mother-in-law lives alone. One day, her house suddenly catches on fire. It's a life-threatening situation. I call my firefighter husband several times before he answers impatiently. "I don't care why you're calling—can't it wait? I'm fixing Sophie's pipes!" I tell him about his mother being trapped in a fire, but he merely sneers. "How dare you curse my mother just to make me go home? You're insane!" He hangs up without another word. I'm left helpless. All I can do is wait for his colleagues to arrive, but they only come half an hour later. Their expressions shift to horror when they see the blazing fire. "Didn't Captain Scott say his wife was lying?" My mother-in-law dies due to the delay. My husband even misses the funeral because of his first love. I give up on him and ask for a divorce. However, he rips the divorce agreement to shreds and shatters the urn that contains his mother's ashes. "Drop the act—I would definitely go through with the divorce if not for my mother!" I laugh. He doesn't even know his mother is already dead.

“Does your husband know you’re taking my cock and moaning my name like a good bad girl? Does he know?” My toes curled as his deep octave dropped sensation into my body, p**sy dripping with every thrust he made deeper into my c*unt. My back arched off the bed, and my lips parted… body trembling as every thrust moved me closer to my orgasm. * I didn’t mean to fuck him, but I did. And one night of reckless pleasure suddenly turned into reality. It should have been nothing but a nightmare… but what happened when that nightmare came back as your nemesis, taking and claiming you in every corner… right where your husband could hear you? I should not want him. I should not like the way his lips part my legs open. I should not like the way his tongue moved against my skin, or the way he parted me open and ruined me till I’m nothing but a trembling mess… but I did. Because he made sure I realized how helpless every inch of my body longed for him. This is not your road to salvation. This is your way to damnation. And here… we offer smut and plot, so join me as I drip, wipe, and smirk. Thank you.