Seventeen Fanfic の小説・ストーリー

“There, just sent you one. This one is an angsty Harry/Zayn fic. Also has some mpreg, if that’s your cup of tea.” I began to read this fanfiction, mostly to appease Niamh, and when I realized what, precisely, the term mpreg meant, I set my phone back down. I considered myself fortunate that I’d skipped the part where Zayn gives birth to his and Harry’s baby. “You asshole,” I called her in French. “I’m going to take that as a compliment. Ooh, I should send you the diagram of how mpreg happens. It’s a whole thing—”

Fairly sure he thinks I am having some sort of breakdown and imagined the whole thing, or maybe dreamt it up. “My seventeenth birthday party. You were so drunk, and you aimed for a kiss on the cheek when you said happy birthday to me. Somehow it ended up on the lips, and we sort of kissed a little bit, for maybe like ten seconds.” I flush at the memory, something I have always pushed down and tried to bury as wholly inappropriate, considering he is more like a brother to me. I try never to think about it, as all the emotion which surrounds it is crazily confusing to me.

"I met your sister when I was 18." Juliette and I almost choked on our coffees, listening to something we are not used to. Jacob was responsible for ruining dozens of dates I was going to. He was very over protecting like that. "What? I just-no, Saph don't give me that look.. I know it's-" "-Unbelievable." I completed it for him. "Okay, unbelievable. But I think you must enjoy your freedom. It's really awful that you're seventeen and haven't had any boyfriend."

she murmured underneath her breath. “Oh, come on, you were my celebrity crush when I was fifteen. Of course, I have many dirty fantasies that include you,” Caleb said, running his knuckles over her arm, goosebumps making her shiver. “Do you wanna hear more fucked up ones where you—you both tease me? Where I bend you over my bike and breed you? Or the one where I find you in the woods and take you?”

hi! I felt bad for mixing up names, two chapters in a row. So a free bonus chapter from Olive's pov. Olive not Meave, lol. --- Olive’s pov “I had just broken up with my boyfriend of six months, when Ari started hitting on me. I know, six months doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is when you’re seventeen. I needed a rebound. It’s sound awful, but honestly it’s a way to cope. A way to get over someone.”

Jared, a 17-year-old boy, struggles with his forbidden desires for his stepmother, Elena. After a dinner where her presence overwhelms him, he retreats to his room, consumed by fantasies of her. Using lube, he masturbates while imagining Elena in explicit scenarios. ********************************* Jared’s heart pounded as he shut the door to his room, the weight of the evening’s dinner still lingering in his mind. His stepmother, Elena, had been there, her presence a constant, intoxicating distraction.

With my mobile phone in my hand, I hurriedly went out of my room and down the stairs, aiming to go directly to my brother’s office when I bumped into Sofia and Beta Dominic in the hallway. It looked like the Beta was tickling my younger sister, and she was shrieking like a banshee, and it just made my eyes roll before I slipped past them and walked towards Darvin’s office. A part of me envied Sofia. Beta Dominic asked for her hand, and although Darvin hadn’t made any final decision yet because Sofia was still seventeen, it looked like the two of them were falling for each other already. Unlike me and Aeon.

“Let me take her to the hospital first, and I’ll come back to explain everything. Please believe me just once.” I wanted to refuse, but the seventeen-year-old Brandon was crying beside me. He crouched on the ground and trembled, as if he were an abandoned puppy. He seemed pitiful and helpless. He mumbled, “Rhea, I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” He had done nothing wrong. When he was seventeen, I was the only one for him. He had never betrayed our relationship, and he only loved me.

The next few days were strange. We were tender with each other careful not to press too hard on the bruise forming between anticipation and loss. We talked about logistics. Dates. Time zones. We laughed more than necessary, like laughter could preemptively soften the ache. But underneath it all, something churned. One afternoon, I found myself staring at an old photo on my phone. Seventeen-year-old me. Seventeen-year-old her. Her arm slung around my shoulders. My smile reckless and unguarded. We looked like people who hadn’t learned yet how much loving could ask of you.

I almost fell for it. I was hesitating. I wanted to go with him and forgive him for screwing my sister. But I was young. I was just seventeen when we started screwing while he was twenty. I closed my eyes slowly as I dreamed of Raven with me, our memories together. The most important memories that I had with him.