Story cover for Negatively 21 by noexmoon
Negatively 21
  • WpView
    Leituras 2,456
  • WpVote
    Votos 157
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 15
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 1h 36m
  • WpView
    Leituras 2,456
  • WpVote
    Votos 157
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 15
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 1h 36m
Em andamento, Primeira publicação em out 08, 2025
Maduro
1 novo capítulo
Nathan Holland is the boy that no father wants next to his daughter, with more traumas than friends, he takes care of his sister as if she were a daughter and grew up in a cold house, where there were no parents waiting for him with open arms, only coldness and pain.

Mallory Lynch, beautiful girl, with a wonderful life, a boyfriend, all the boys have their eyes on her, she does well in school, her parents are proud of her, she has many friends, she is loved by everyone, she would never have thought that her life would change completely.

Mallory and Nathan together are a chaos of emotions: Nathan is cold and distant, Mallory is radiant and attached to everyone.

But despite everything, Mallory never lets Nathan go.
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Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.
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Rory Kavanagh. The best rugby player Tommen has ever seen-well, besides his da, obviously. Johnny Kavanagh. The Johnny Kavanagh. Our parents are basically joint at the hip, best mates since they were kids. And naturally, me and Rory just... became mates too. That's the deal. That's what we said we'd be. Friends. Right? Friends. But like-come on. Have you seen him? His abs? That man has a six-pack like he's sculpted from marble. His hair? Brown and silky, like-like a shampoo ad or somethin'. And those eyes? The kind of blue that makes you forget your own name. I swear to God, I'm not even being dramatic. So yeah... maybe I've a teeny, tiny, miniscule crush on him. Can you blame me? No. No, you can't. I won't hear it. But I'm not saying a thing. No way. What if he just laughs? That'd kill me. So for now, I'll just pretend I don't stare at him for longer than is normal when he talks. For now, it's just friendship. Grand. ...But what if he does feel the same? *** Bethany Gibson. Jaysus. She's been my best friend since we were in playschool, like actually since nappies. She's pure chaos-loud, mad, always in trouble for something-but I wouldn't change a thing about her. Not one thing. She's class. Gorgeous too. Not just like "oh she's grand," no-proper gorgeous. Her blonde curls bounce when she laughs, and I swear it's like the sun's just following her around. Her eyes? Silver. Like not even grey-silver, like a flipping fairy or something. Every time she looks at me, I forget what I was saying. Which is not ideal when you're trying to seem normal, right? I've fancied her since I was about seven. Maybe six. But what am I supposed to do? Tell her? What if she just laughs and goes, "Ah you're gas," and then pats me on the head like I'm some lost puppy? I'd actually evaporate from shame. But then again... what if she does like me back? What if all this time I was too scared to see it?
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Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.
𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝟏𝟖, de _jenxkiss
66 capítulos Concluída Maduro
Brian O'Neill. The coldest fella Tommen's has ever seen-or so they say. And I get it. He walks down the halls like he owns the place, never says much unless he has to, face like it's carved out of marble, always unreadable. He's like a winter prince-untouchable, a bit terrifying, and way too beautiful to be real. But he's mine. He's my boyfriend. He makes my heart beat like a bloody war drum every time he so much as looks at me with that stormy gaze of his. Protective to a fault. He'd burn the whole world down if it meant keeping his siblings safe. They're everything to him-his whole bleeding heart, even if he acts like he hasn't got one. And he fights. Not schoolyard scuffles. Not rugby scraps. I'm talking about underground, illegal fights. The kind you don't talk about. The kind you pray he walks away from. *** Daisy Biggs. If sunshine had a body and a runway walk, it'd be her. She's Ireland's it girl-covers of magazines, Vogue campaigns, CHANEL deals before she was even out of third year. Everyone knows her name. Every girl wants to be her, and every lad stares a bit too long when she walks past. But she's mine. She's my girlfriend. Yeah-me. The cold bastard with blood on his knuckles and bruises under his hoodie. I don't know how I pulled her, honest to God. Maybe 'cause she sees something in me no one else bothers to look for. But we keep it quiet. No one at Tommen's knows. Can't risk the papers finding out, or the other students. She's soft with me. Gentle in a way that makes me forget I've got cuts across my ribs or a busted lip. When I show up to her place, bleeding or shaking or just not right in the head after a fight, she never freaks. She just pulls me in, cleans me up, and wraps her arms around me like I'm something worth saving. I know she hates the fights. Hates what they do to me. Hates what I have to do to win. But what am I supposed to do? When you've got a da who treats you like a weapon, you learn real quick that choices are a luxury.
𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟏𝟑, de wednxs
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𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐁𝐇À𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍 is used to blending in. She's the girl with ink on her fingers and headphones always around her neck, the quiet type who prefers comic books and coding to crowded parties. With divorced parents and a split life between two houses, she's learned to stay steady on her own. At Tommen, she's known more for her brains than her presence, until she's assigned to tutor 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐇. Rory is everything Siobhán isn't. The golden boy. The all-smiles Kavanagh. Charming, popular, and seemingly untouchable, he carries the weight of expectation with a grin that fools everyone. Everyone except her. Beneath the grin, she sees the cracks, an anxious boy trying to hold it all together, desperate not to let anyone down. What starts as awkward tutoring sessions turns into something deeper: stolen laughs, late-night conversations, and an unexpected tether between two people who never thought they'd collide. But when rumours swirl and Rory's carefully built mask begins to crumble, Siobhán has to decide if she can step out of the shadows to stand beside him, or risk losing the boy who finally made her feel seen. ‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙ This is a fanfiction based on the Boys of Tommen series by Chloe Walsh. All original characters, storylines, and settings from the series belong entirely to her. I don't claim ownership of Rory Kavanagh, the Kavanagh family, or any other characters created by Chloe Walsh. The only exception is Siobhán Wilkinson and any other original characters of my own creation, who belong to me. This story is purely for fun, with no profit involved, and written out of love and appreciation for Chloe Walsh's incredible world and characters. 💛
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