Meet Nimble and Morgan in JACK BE NIMBLE, the first book in the new Boxcar Boys series by Jackie North.
Available now to buy or borrow → getbook.at/BoxcarBoys1
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You’re going to love this small town m/m romance complete with hurt/comfort, age gap, mutual rescue, stranded together, only one futon, runaways, angst, broken characters, found family, grumpy/sunshine, all the feels, small town vibes, slow burn, opposites attract, pining, broken homes, comfort food, flannel shirts, and snow. Lots and lots of snow.
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Cover Designer: Natasha Snow
Connect with Jackie ➤ FB: jackienorthauthor | IG: jackienorth_author
A quiet heroine who doesn't need to get louder to get free.
Elise doesn't have an arc where she finally Speaks Up and becomes someone else. Her arc is becoming less available to being rearranged. She stays exactly who she is. The world just stops getting to move her around.
To Hold What's Fragile — Coming Dec 1st on Kindle and in Paperback
Fandom: Marvel — The Punisher/ Jon Bernthal RPF
Pairing: Frank Castle / You (Reader Insert)
Rating: Mature (for mature themes; non-explicit / fade to black)
Warnings: Minor Violence (implied, off-screen)
Categories: F/M
Frank Castle had been sitting in the corner booth for three hours, nursing the same whiskey he hadn't touched in two. His knuckles were still split from the night before , a warehouse, two men who thought they were harder than they were, a debt they owed that they'd never pay now. His jaw ached. His ribs throbbed with every breath.
He wasn't here for company. He was here because the apartment was too quiet, and quiet had a way of dragging him back to the faces he couldn't save.
You walked in near midnight, shaking rain off your jacket.
You found a stool two seats from Frank, close enough to notice the coil of tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes tracked the door without blinking.
You didn't ask if he was okay. People like him hated that question.
Instead, you said, "Rough night?"
He turned his head, slow, like he wasn't used to being spoken to. His eyes were dark, hard, but there was something behind them that wasn't anger. Something tired.
"You could say that," he said. His voice was gravel and smoke, two octaves lower than the room.
Most people read the scar on his lip, the weight in his frame, and looked away. You didn't. You met his gaze and stayed there.
"Then you're drinking the wrong thing," you said, and slid your bourbon across the bar toward him.
For a long moment, he just looked at it. Then the corner of his mouth twitched , almost a smile, almost.
"Thanks," he said, and drank.
The night passed like that. Not conversation, exactly more like two people circling each other in the language of tiredness and trust. He told you his name was Frank, and you knew better than to ask what he did. You told him you worked nights, that your life was unremarkable, that you were lonely in a city full of people.
He listened. Really listened. That was the thing about Frank when he wasn't in the fight, when the noise in his head quieted for a moment, he gave you his whole attention. Like you were the only thing in the room.
When last call came, he stood. He was bigger than he'd looked seated, shoulders like a doorway, but when he moved toward the exit he hesitated. Turned back.
"You want a ride?" he asked. "It's late. Rain's coming down hard."
And there it was the choice, hanging in the air between you.
The truck smelled like gun oil and something faintly like pine. The heater was broken but you didn't care. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh, knuckles white.
"Your place or mine?" he asked, and there was no pressure in it, just an offer. Frank Castle didn't beg. He didn't have to.
You told him yours. He nodded, said nothing, and drove.
The streets were empty. Rain hammered the windshield. The silence between you was comfortable in a way silence rarely is two strangers who'd agreed, wordlessly, to carry each other's weight for one night.
When he pulled up outside your building, he killed the engine. The rain filled the space where words might have been.
"You sure about this?" he asked, and it wasn't a test. It was him giving you an out, because that's who he was underneath it all
You reached for the door handle. "Coming up?"
He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded once. That was the whole conversation.
The stairs were narrow and dark. He followed a step behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the slight hitch in his stride, the way his shoulder brushed the wall like he was used to tight spaces.
At your door, your hands fumbled with the keys. His hand covered yours, steadying it. His palm was rough with calluses, warm despite the cold.
"I'm not good at this," he said, voice low. "The talking part. The soft part." A pause. "Just so you know what you're getting."
You turned to face him. "I'm not looking for talking."
And that was enough.
He stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him. The rain kept falling outside, and whatever happened after that, in the quiet dark of your apartment, belonged to the two of you alone.
Morning came gray and soft through the curtains.
Frank was already awake when you stirred propped against the headboard, watching the rain trace patterns on the glass. He didn't look at you when you moved, but his hand found yours on the sheets.
"I should go," he said. But he didn't move.
You didn't ask where. You didn't ask when he'd be back. Some men were built from storms, and you couldn't hold a storm , you could only stand in its path and let it pass through.
When he finally left, the space where he'd been still held his warmth. On the nightstand, he'd left a note. Just a number. And one word:
Frank.
I'll post a smut version for this soon also i will post the book on wattpad
Hi! So theres this one fic I’ve read… so long ago. Past me took a pic of one line from it, and I remember being seriously moved by the story but I can’t find it 😭
“"Shiro," he breathes. Already on his knees so maybe it's not so bad that it comes out like a prayer.”
The context for that quote^ was that Keith (I believe in his BoM era) was in the middle of losing a fight and Shiro came in to same him.
The whole of the fic was keith trying to find Shiro? Other than that I can’t only definitively say it wasn’t E rated and it was completed, but not much else sorry…
(Theres the smallest chance it wasn’t even Sheith, but I figure it’s ok ask anyways, this is driving em insane)
Thank you so much for what you do here, it is truly quite helpful!
Found it!
no, it is an ever fixed axis - akaiiko
3k. (Teen).
It doesn’t matter how many times the universe tears them apart. They will always find their way back.
Eventually they will stop. They always stop. Killing him isn’t in their best interest yet. (Eventually, they will kill him.) All he has to do is endure. Let it happen. Bending instead of breaking. Stare into the middle distance. Bite his tongue so he doesn’t crack his teeth. Remember how grey eyes crinkled at the corners when he was holding back a smile. Bend, bend, bend—
“Who are you?” the Druid asks. “Who are you to the Champion?”
𝘼 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙧. 𝘼 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣. 𝘼 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙚𝙩…
“𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩.”
Just This Heart (Men Of Porth Luck #2) by Garrett Leigh is here! If you like your romance intense, emotional, and seriously steamy… this one’s calling your name.
On shelves now → getbook.at/MenOfPorthLuck2
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EXPECT:
· Wounded Hero
· Amnesia
· Best Friends to Lovers
· Bi-Awakening/First Times
· Hurt/Comfort
· Small Town
· Found Family
· Emotional Angst
· Second Chance
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Cover designer: Black Jazz Design
Connect with Garrett ➤ FB/IG: garrettleighauthor | Bsky: garettleigh.bsky.social | TikTok: garrettleighbooks
They needed him stable. They needed her useful. So their families arranged a marriage — access for the Contis, optics for the Riccios.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, Elise and Leo started seeing each other as people.
To Hold What's Fragile — Coming Dec 1st on Kindle and in Paperback
