Random Teenager Novels & Stories

"You eat that. You know I don't like too much sweets." He went home. "Eh don't! You're really crazy Amara! Don't you really have any plans to enjoy your teenage life? You're just too focused on your studies!" I was shaken. I know what he's up to. "I'm enjoying my life right now Laine." "Don't you really have any plans to try a relationship? You know, even if it's just a game. I think, that's what you're missing." "I don't need boys. And one more thing, I'm just sixteen years old. I'm too young to get into things like that."

he inquired, his hand slipping inside the waistbands of my shorts and moving further. It felt incredible, his body rubbing warmth against mine, the intense pleasure rising between my legs and the teasing his boner did. "No..." "Then why?" "I'm just sixteen." "Wait...Are you telling me you are a virgin?" he stares at me in surprise. "Am I meant not to be?" Did I reply, staring intensely at him? "Teenage girls nowadays love doing this, so it impossible you are still a virgin," he said. "I'm not a s*x maniac like you. "I push him off me and quickly use the duvet to cover my body.

“ Do you want me to call the police? “ He asks from there. “ No- “ “ Try doing that. “ Lucas taunts before I can even stop him from doing so. Within an instant. He dials the number. “ Hello, there is a strange man in our neighborhood harassing a girl. Can you please come here fast? The address? It’s…… No, I don’t know her. I…saw it. Okay. “ I hear parts of the conversation. The boy finally steps up to Lucas. Lucas isn’t intimidated in the least. I instead feel bad for the teenager. He’s getting himself in unwanted trouble. “ Why are you bothering her? Back off. “ He orders, acting bold. Lucas just rolls his eyes at that. “ I don’t have time for this. “ He utters. “ So you should go back to w

I could be petty if I wanted to. "Because you aren't up to eighteen doesn't mean you can barge into people's rooms and do however you please even children could be held accountable. You look almost 18." I stated as a matter of fact staring at the teenage girl before me. She didn't look anything like Alaric or Sinclair. Her bleached blonde hair with red highlights said a lot about the brat. "Your room. Almost 18." She scoffed. "I am just 14 and since when did this room become yours? Who the hell are you?" She barked, looking like she was running out of patience.

he whispered as his fingers trailed up my thighs. My eyes widened, and I slapped his hands away. He pulled me into the tub as I laughed. “Bryan!” I’m dating a teenager, I swear,” he laughed. “I’m not a teenager...” I countered immediately. “Ah, you’re a teenager, trust me. You are so innocent,” he said, smirking. “I’m not innocent. Stop saying that. I’m in my mid-twenties,” “I’m not arguing,” he said, bursting into laughter.

Livie You could say that Alarick is an old soul. He's too mature for his age and too smart for his own good. But by the end of the day, we are still just young eighteen years old, and that makes us still teens. Hormonal teens, to be precise. Because yes, he soon will be nineteen, just days before his birthday, but he is still a teen.

"How about you? Why are you here?" It's the tenth time now that I saw this teenage boy, yet I still can't get over his sea green eyes. He said he's only seventeen, but he doesn't look like seventeen. He looks older than seventeen. "I heard that it's your birthday today." He says, instead of answering the question that I gave him. But it doesn't matter, maybe he doesn't want to answer it. Maybe it's too personal. "Yeah, I'm now twelve." I have no idea why, but I hear him laugh after I told him that I'm now twelve. It's not funny, and he's making it look like turning twelve is amusing. I could be mad at him right now, but the way that his small laugh sounds is preventing me from snapping at hi

As Riggs opens the door, he smiles at a scrawny pre-teen with a spray can working on a small piece of wall near the door. "Oi, Stevie," he shouts at the kid. "Does grandma know you're out here again messing with her art?" "No," the snotty kid shouts back, and I realize that it isn't a little boy but a slender, teenage girl with a shaved undercut, her violet mohawk concealed under an old Ducks hat. "Who's gonna tell her? You jerk-face!" She rolls her eyes and plugs herself back in, shouting along with her feminist punk music as she continues working on the wall, ignoring him.

Gabe tried to redeem himself. “Yes, I’m a teenager, not an ‘apprentice.’ According to the WHO, adolescence starts at 10. And no, it’s not an opinion, it’s a scientific fact. Been through pre-adolescence? That phase where you turn into a volcano of hormones and existential crises in the middle of math class? Well, I’m past that. Jorel, you…” She looked at him with disdain. “Well, your 22 years are just a number, because your brain’s still in the ‘I think a slime has more sense’ phase.” “Well, Mrs. TikTok adolescence expert, I think you haven’t gotten past that phase either, because you’re in an identity conflict… After all, you’re a kid who thinks she’s a teen postdoc,” Jorel opined.

He was staring at us, his face pale and sweating. "You... you're not real," the teenager stammered. He reached for his phone. "This is a hallucination. I've been playing too long." I stood up. I was still tall. I was still covered in ink and red fire. I looked at the computer screen on his desk. My story was still there. The words were typing themselves. Hazel stood over the Player. She realized his life was just as messy as hers. "Is it?" I asked, looking the teenager in the eye.