#Castle Fanfiction

[bravevulnerability]

I’m not sure if you still take prompts but tbh, I don’t even care, can you write anything you want? Doesn’t have to be long! Just craving some good caskett 😭

A/N: I was either reading a book or watching a tv show, I can't recall, but the simple words of "I'll leave early" got stuck in my brain and shot this idea into my head. Set during 4x19, ‘47 Seconds’, initially before any confessions unknowingly occur on the other side of an interrogation room window. 

-

The knock on the door startles him, has him jerking out of his chair and bumping his hip on the edge of the desk. 

Castle curses under his breath, winces, but carries on into the living room, to the front door. 

It’s late, after midnight, and he hasn’t been able to calm his mind. All he can think about is the victims of the bombing, their loss of life, of opportunity, and how it has selfishly caused him to reflect on those areas of his own life. On Kate. 

He’s going to tell her tomorrow. He has to. What if - god forbid - the world were to end for him the way it did for all of those people today, and it would do so without Kate Beckett knowing he loved her? What if the time they had was so much shorter than they could imagine? What if-

Castle feels the color drain from his face, all of the bravado leaving him, as he swings the door open.

“Beckett,” he greets softly, self-consciously smoothing down the tortured strands of hair that have flown this way and that from the restless push of his fingers. 

She’s in his hallway with her hair falling in those gentle waves around her shoulders, her face devoid of makeup and an NYPD sweatshirt engulfing her slim frame. Kate offers him a weak twitch of her mouth.

“Hey, Castle.” Her voice is soft but gruff, as if it hasn’t been used in hours. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” he assures her, stepping back and gesturing for her to come in. Her eyes flicker around the darkened space, as if ensuring his daughter isn’t at the counter, or his mother on the couch. “I was up, trying to write, but after today… I just couldn’t get out of my head.”

The door clicks quietly behind them and he steps up to her side, catches the haunted glimpse of her eyes gravitating back to him. The warm glow of his office beckons them forward, offering privacy and familiarity. She's never said as much, but he thinks she favors his office, the comforting walls of books and the sofa she often curls up on when she stays late to theorize over cases or plot points for his novels.

“Yeah.” She nods, twisting her fingers together in front of her as she follows him inside. He eases the office door closed. Just in case. The last thing he needs is Alexis's scrutinizing gaze peering in. His daughter means well, he knows, but on the topic of Kate, he hopes to maintain some distance. “I know the feeling.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” he tries, sensing there is more to her visit than she is letting on. 

“No,” she admits. “I just - it’s this case. I kept seeing their faces, the crime scene, the senselessness of it. I keep thinking of the victims’ loved ones, what it’s going to do to them.” 

Castle tilts his head, understanding but still curious. Her eyes fall to her feet, the worn toes of her sneakers peeking out from her jeans. 

“It’s selfish, but it - it made me think of what my shooting did to the people I care about, that I love.” She purses her lips and exhales a breath that quivers. “I don’t think I ever apologized to you. Well, beyond the first time I saw you again after your book signing in the fall,” she murmurs, tentatively lifting her gaze to meet his. “For what I put you through.”

“Kate,” he huffs, but she catches the hand he tries to use to wave her off. He stares down at the slim curl of her fingers around his, the kiss of her thumb to the heart of his palm. “You didn’t put me through anything, you were shot. Besides, I’m one of the lucky ones. You’re here.”

“You know what I mean.” Her eyes harden, a fierce hazel, emboldened. “The summer, and… this. The missed opportunities and lost time. The waiting.”

His brow hitches, surprise rippling through his senses. Sure, they’ve talked around his unspoken vow to wait for her, their conversations always edging on everything shy of committing to one another without saying any actual truths. He’s not used to blatant honesty between them.

His hand relaxes within the grasp of hers, their loosely knotted fingers dangling in the space between them.

“I just - I know it’s not necessarily what you signed up for-”

“Beckett, it’s exactly what I signed up for,” he chuckles, tugging gently on their hands and drawing her a step closer. She has to lift her eyes to him without her heels, her vulnerability alive and shimmering in her gaze just a few inches below. “From the first day we met, I signed up for you.”

“We were different then,” she huffs, shaking her head, but he squeezes her hand.

“Yeah, but maybe we’ve been changing for the better.” He shrugs, watching a sliver of hope slice through her pupils. “Maybe the last four years were necessary, to prove we were capable of growing together. Seems worth waiting for to me.”

Kate’s lips quirk, white teeth appearing to contain the smile. 

“You always know how to say something reassuring,” she sighs, but her eyes are dancing with light for him. 

“Plus, you’re only the hottest detective in existence, so I’d be stupid to give up so easily-”

She smacks him with her free hand, her laughter quiet and mingling with his. He catches the other hand at his chest, coats her knuckles with his palm, and feels hers come to a cool rest over his heart. Kate’s laugh gentles into a sigh, her body swaying towards his, and then she’s releasing the hand that was holding his. Her arm snakes around his waist instead, her embrace tentative.

Rick's arms automatically wind around her, the movement as natural as breathing. He feels the sink of her body into his, the exhale of tension against his collarbone as she tucks her forehead against his neck. 

“I love you, Kate,” he whispers, feeling the terror and exhilaration commingling within his chest as the words escape. He expects her to tense, to draw away, but she remains against him. Still, unspeaking, and possibly not breathing, but in his arms with her fingers curled into the t-shirt at his back. “I don’t need you to be ready to say it back, but I don’t want you to forget, to doubt. I’m here.”

Her arm tightens around him, her fingers curling at his chest, as if she could hold fast to the heart beneath her hand. They remain like that for a long moment and he takes the time to appreciate the shape of her in his arms, the scent of her shampoo in his nose, and her nuzzled cheek against his clavicle.

"I don't want you to doubt either," she murmurs, the heat of her breath rushing over the flesh of his throat.

Kate gingerly lifts her head, dark lashes rising and eyes finding his. Her hand splays at the small of back, her fingertips brushing his spine. He swallows hard, begging his heart to steady before she feels the gallop of it between their bodies.

"You're not alone in this, Rick." A tender smile graces her lips, encouraging yet shy. Her eyes fall to his mouth, linger for a moment too long before fluttering back to his gaze. "And I don't think the wait is for much longer."

"N-no?" He clears his throat, watches her smile grow, and he can't help it. He touches a hand to her jaw, unfurling fingers along her cheek, and watches in amazement as she leans into the cup of his palm.

"No," she confirms, covering the back of his hand with one of hers, holding it there as she turns her head and brushes a kiss to his palm that sends a jolt of electricity up his arm.

"Kate," he sighs, giving into the compromise of pressing his forehead to hers.

"Sorry," she mumbles, abandoning his hand to dust her fingers to his chin. He feels the tips of her fingers trail along his jaw, his eyes fluttering closed as her thumb skims his cheek. "I think I should go."

"It's late," he argues, eyes flickering open to find hers watching closely, bottom lip pinned beneath her teeth again. "Just stay. The guest room-"

"Castle, Alexis and your mom-"

"Something tells me Alexis won't even notice since she leaves for classes at the crack of dawn and my mother won't be up until the clock is flashing double digits."

She's considering it, he can tell.

"Stay," he murmurs, forcing himself to draw back and stealing the hand from his face.

"Castle," she huffs when he begins to drag her towards his bedroom.

"Here," he tells her, letting her go to dig through his dresser, retrieving a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "These should be comfortable, but you're welcome to raid my closet and drawers for other options if-"

She swipes the clothes from him and glowers as she brushes past, heading for his bathroom.

He nervously rearranges his pillows while he waits for her, trying not to pay attention to the sound of running water or the click of the doorknob.

She still looks uncertain when she drops her clothes in the chair beside his bed, her sweater landing on top of his robe, making him stupidly delighted.

"Come on," he says, climbing onto his side of the bed and cutting the lamp lights. He feels the darkness will seal the deal, allow her the courage to crawl under the covers to innocently lie beside him.

He doesn't know when they decided on his room instead of the guest room, but she makes no move to leave now.

He looks anywhere but at her while he slides his legs beneath the comforter, the sheets, and settles onto his back. But his body, his senses, are attuned to her, and he can hear the quiet rustling of her doing the same. When he risks a glance, he can make out the dark mass of her body curled beneath the blankets a few inches away.

"I'll leave early," she breathes into the shadows between them, as if making a promise to them both.

"Kate."

A moment of silence passes and then the mattress is shifting, her body warm and lithe and nestling beside him. He eases his arm around her, feels the welcome weight of her head on his shoulder, the contented sigh of her breath against his neck.

"I'll leave early," she repeats, adamant but soft.

"Go to sleep, Kate," he whispers, resting his cheek against her hair and feeling the restlessness of her quieting.

Her arms curl between them, her cold hands against his ribs, her knees against his thighs. He drifts to sleep savoring the points of contact.

-

When he wakes, Kate is gone. Later, he finds that the shirt he lent her the night before is as well.

-

The next night, when he receives a late knock on his door, he's aware of who will be on the other side and he opens it with anger roiling through his insides.

"You stormed out before I had the chance to explain," she begins immediately, coming into his loft as if she were a storm herself. "I know why you're upset with me, but-"

"Kate, I really think you've said enough today," he cuts her off, keeping his voice low.

It's late, hours since he knows her shift ended. He knows she planned this purposely to avoid his family, to corner him while he was alone.

"What I said to Bobby-"

"Yeah, I already heard it once. I'll pass on a second time," he mutters, locking his front door and leaving her in the entryway.

"Rick." But she follows, of course, chasing him with soft steps to the sanctuary of his office. "It was an interrogation tactic. You're just assuming I was being honest with a suspect," she hisses, easing the office door shut behind her.

Castle crosses his arms and leans back against his desk.

"Fine," he concedes, bitterly. He already knows the answer to his next question, he feels it in his gut, his bones. The horrible truth he's always known. "Do you remember every second of that day? Of being shot?"

Her throat ripples with a swallow, but she exhales steadily, steels herself before she says a word.

"Yes," she confesses, holding his gaze. "I've always remembered."

"Every. Second," he clarifies. Not a question.

Her lips part, the bottom one threatening to quiver ever so slightly. She squares her jaw to stop it.

"Every second," she confirms, her fingers in fists at her sides. "I remember you tackling me, trying to stop the blood, to - to save me."

He casts his eyes away from her, not wanting to remember it, not wanting to recall the feeling of hot blood on his hands, the wide surprise of her eyes, the panicked sound of her gasping for breath beneath him.

"I remember you telling me you love me," she whispers, the words soft but measured. "That was the last thing."

"All this time," he manages, blinking away the horror of those images. "You lied."

"I know," she whispers, exhaling a shaking breath into the silence between them. "I didn't - I didn't know how to face it then. How to be - how to be what I wanted to be for myself, for you. I just... god, Castle. I panicked and if I hadn't been in therapy for the last few months, I'd probably still be lying to you."

He spares a look at her then, the crescents of purple beneath her eyes, the glimmer of moisture making them sparkle in the darkness of the room.

"When I woke up in that hospital room, I didn't feel like a person anymore. The only purpose I've ever felt I had was solving my mother's murder and after the shooting, I didn't think I could survive making room for anything else," she attempts to explain, but he can hear the hitch threatening her throat, the choked sound of her trying not to cry. "I didn't feel worth much else."

Argument bubbles unbidden on his tongue at that, but she speaks first.

"I - I wanted you," she declares, meeting his eyes with a desperation he's never seen in hers. Not for him. "But I didn't feel like I could give what you deserve. I needed to be better first, to heal, to make the room. To acknowledge how important you are to me."

The unshed tears spill over, creating rivulets down her cheeks.

"I love you," she says, but her voice has changed, strengthening with resolve. "I love you, but I wasn't going to screw it up, so I was trying to put in the work. To be more."

Castle doesn't stop her when she takes a step toward him, another.

"I'm sorry." She doesn't touch him, but stands before him, palms up and bare, as if begging. "I should have gone about it all differently, but I - god, I never wanted to hurt you, Rick."

Without thinking, he touches the tear stains on her cheeks, brushing them away with his thumb.

"You don't have to forgive me tonight," she adds softly, staring up at him with tired eyes. "You can stay angry for a while. Just don't - don't give up on me yet."

Shit, she was breaking his heart, siphoning all his resolve.

His fingers slide into her hair, cradling the back of her skull.

"I would never." Her eyes flutter in what looks like relief. "I get it, I do. I just..."

"Hate it," she mumbles, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

He shrugs. "I wish we could have done it a little differently, yeah. But I'm not going to hold it against you, Kate, I just need time to process it all."

She nods, her lips pursing resolutely. "Of course."

Her head turns toward the door, but he snags her fingers. She looks to him in askance.

"Will you stay?"

She hesitates. "What about time and space?"

"I didn't say anything about space."

She is not nearly as anxious to crawl into bed with him this time, her body settling beside him without preamble and her arms twining around his torso.

"We're okay, Kate," he promises her, burying the words in her hair as her nose touches his throat and one of her ankles hooks around his.

He rubs her back, tracing the line of her spine through another one of his t-shirts. Eventually, the taut arrangement of bones begins to relax beneath his ministrations and her breathing evens out, her body slack in his arms.

He tries to sleep, but despite all she said, all that has happened over the course of the last few hours, he can't tear his thoughts away from the fact that she loves him. And she said it out loud.

-

Most of the following nights are spent with her appearing on his doorstep or his on hers, the hour often late, but her smile is always worth it. The first time she opened her door to him, after a night of being dressed up for a stint with Colin Hunt - he hated that guy - she was beaming.

"I thought you'd be at home brooding," she'd chuckled, locking the door behind him, pleasing him with her intent to keep him there. "I was about to come to you."

"No, I couldn't wait that long," he admitted, hanging his coat on one of the empty hooks. "I was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress."

Kate had huffed a laugh, already dressed down in one of the t-shirts she had stolen from him. He had yet to call her out on it because he didn't want to give her a reason to stop.

"Don't worry, Castle," she teased, lifting her hand to his cheek. "I'll save it for another time."

His brow arced at that. "That statement is heavy with implication."

"It was intended to be," she grinned, sauntering to her bedroom.

He had to bring up the case to keep himself occupied after that, but the way she looked at him every time he insulted Mr. Scotland Yard almost made it worse.

Oh yeah, Kate Beckett definitely wanted him. But until she made the next move, he would wait. He wasn't taking any risk of moving too fast when it came to her. Not when he knew this time would be for keeps.

-

The evening they solve the zombie case, she vows to appear at his loft, teasing him that he'll never get that makeup off without her help. He has a laser tag game planned with Alexis that turns into the icing on the cake of his day, with his daughter announcing she will be attending Columbia for college.

Most of his makeup has been scrubbed off, the costume gone, when Kate knocks on the front door.

Alexis glances up from washing the dishes, her brow furrowed. "Were we expecting anyone this late?"

"Just Kate." He tries for nonchalance, but Alexis eyes him with both intrigue and wariness as he starts for the door.

When Castle opens it, she's on the other side as promised. She's changed from her leather jacket and jeans to a soft sweater and yoga pants, looking warm and inviting at his doorstep.

"Oh look, you did a pretty good job," she chuckles, reaching for his nearly cleansed cheek, stroking the bone there.

"I don't know if you'll have better luck," he admits. "Prosthetics and stage makeup leave quite the mark."

"Well," she grins, tapping the bag on her arm. "I brought an extra strength cleanser, so we'll give it a shot."

The water from the kitchen sink is still running, catching her attention. Alexis's presence is likely visible from the doorway, the clinking of dishes going into the dishwasher pointedly loud. He feels nervous but hopeful as he watches Kate determine what to do next.

She lowers her hand from his cheek and bites her bottom lip. "Am I too early?"

"No, not at all." He extends his hand for hers and she slips her fingers into the cove of his, allowing him to guide her inside.

-

"I think she hates me a little less," Kate murmurs, her eyes following the work of the cotton pad she swipes along his skin.

She and Alexis spoke briefly before his daughter went up to bed. Kate had lingered before following him to his en suite bathroom, watching the stairs his daughter had disappeared up with worry lining her face.

"She never hated you," he grunts, wincing when she has to scrub at a spot on his forehead with a little too much vigor. She's been wiping makeup from his skin for the last twenty minutes, standing in front of him while he perched on the edge of his bathtub in his pajamas. "She was upset with me."

"And she's a protective daughter. Trust me, I get it," she assures him gently. Her thumb skims the curve of his eyebrow and he opens his eyes to find her studying him. "I think I should go home tonight, Rick."

He eases his hands onto her hips, watching her brow arch in response.

"I don't want to rush things with Alexis," she elaborates, tossing the cotton pad into the trash and reaching for a clean hand towel.

She dries his face with tender brushes.

"She is unaware you've stayed here at all," he reasons. "I doubt tonight would be any different. Besides, it's late."

"Castle, it's ten," she chuckles, but she hasn't shoved his hands from the resting place of her hipbones. "There's no reason for me to stay."

"No?" He rises slowly from the edge of the tub, holding her gaze the entire time. "What if I need you?"

Her nostrils flare ever so subtly, a tell he's picked up on. She's struggling to ignore him.

"Cuddling is part of our healing journey, Beckett."

She rolls her eyes and shoves on his chest, but doesn't fight the tug of his hand on her arm, the offering of his clothes, his bed.

-

Castle's eyes flutter open. It's barely light out and it's early, he can tell that much upon waking. But something has woken him, the featherlight dance of a touch to his cheek.

As his vision focuses, he sees Kate lying beside him, her fingers migrating from his face to comb through his hair.

He hums and shifts closer to her, burrowing into the warmth of her body.

Her arms wrap around his neck while his band around her spine. Their legs are tangled and her lips are moving against his ear.

"I gotta go," she whispers, turning her head to graze a kiss to his temple.

He sighs and loosens his grip on her, allows her to untangle their limbs.

"See you in a few hours?" she murmurs, one of her hands still reluctant to leave him, draped along his jaw.

"Of course," he yawns, gazing up at her from his pillow.

She bites her bottom lip for a second before leaning forward, lingering there before tilting her head, dusting her mouth to his. Instantly, his senses come alive under the electricity of her lips.

Castle's arms stall in their retreat from her body, reclaiming their hold on her again.

A smile blooms on her mouth before she's kissing him with more confidence, fitting the curve of her lips to his. He hums in response, kisses her back, and feels her body canting into his.

"Mm, Beckett, you make it hard to let you go," he grumbles, feeling more than hearing the rumble of her laughter.

She stains another kiss to his mouth, mumbling a last farewell against the corner of his mouth before regretfully pulling her body from the bed.

-

The storm batters against his windows, lightning illuminating his office as he deletes the murder board on his screen, Kate's face disappearing with the tap of his fingers.

They fought last night in her apartment, his love for her used like a bargaining chip for her life, and it wasn't enough.

He's done. He loves her with a fierce strength and softness, in ways he's never loved anyone else, but he can't watch her throw her life away.

It'll just hurt more.

No, he would rather try and gain as much distance as he can before he gets the call that Kate has become the latest to fall victim to the Dragon's wrath.

The knocking on his door begins with vigor.

He pauses, unsure. His first thought is that it must be Kate and the last thing he wants is another argument. But, it could also be Alexis. He turned his phone off after the third consistent ring with Kate's number flashing across the screen. What if his daughter needed him?

Shit.

He curses himself for his ignorance, vowing to turn the phone back on as soon as he checks the door.

Rick composes his expression, ensuring he doesn't look as hassled as he feels, not wanting to alarm his daughter on her special night if it is her.

He unlocks the door, tugs it open, and feels all of that hard work immediately fall, frown returning instantly at the sight of Kate Beckett.

She's soaked to the skin, dripping rain all over the carpeted hall of the building and the entryway to his loft.

"Beckett," he sighs, his fingers already clenching around the door's edge. "What do you want?"

"You," she whispers, breaching the slim space the door allows and reaching for him.

His body betrays him, moving too slowly to block the ascent of her hands to his face, the rise of her body into his, the adamant press of her mouth.

"You had that," he grunts into her kiss before prying her hands from his cheeks. But he doesn't let her go, he can't. So he holds her captured wrists to his chest, studies the desperate features lining her face, the trembling form of her body. "What happened?"

"He got away," she rasps, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And I didn't care."

Traitorous hope seeps through the cracks of his heart.

"I almost died and all I could think about was you," she breathes, her head shaking as her gaze roams his face, taking him in as if seeing for the first time. Seeing him clearly. "I'm so sorry, Castle. You were right and I'm - I'm sorry."

Her wrists rotate in his loosened grasp, fingers climbing to bridge at the back of his neck. Her toes arch, lifting her body to meet his, allowing her lips to ghost over his.

"I love you." The words sound sacred falling from her mouth onto his. "I'm sorry I didn't treat you like it."

He suffers only a split moment of indecision - he loves her back, he always will, even though she scares the shit out of him.

Castle layers his mouth over hers, swallows the moan she exhales at the bruise of his kiss, the surge of his body using hers to shut the door. Kate cradles his head in her hands as he kisses her, the tenderness of all the nights before, of the last kiss she graced him with, gone in favor of the brutal fall of his mouth upon hers, the needful crush of his bones into hers.

She doesn't seem to mind, every scrape of his teeth, press of his palm, and grip of his fingers being returned with fervor.

His hands tangle in her hair, wet and dripping down his bare forearms, tilting her face upwards. She gasps when his tongue slides past her parted lips, swiping along hers and exploring the cove of her mouth like he's always wanted to. They've kissed like this before, frenzied and frantic in a darkened parking lot under the ruse of saving Ryan and Esposito, but there was still an ounce of restraint alive then. She had a boyfriend and he was desperate to show her how good they could be together, but they were allowed so little time, so much uncertainty.

Not tonight.

Her head drops back against the door as he skates lips and teeth along her jaw, down her neck. Her arms are clinging to him, her hips clashing with his, as if she can't keep him close enough.

He slows, though, when he reaches the bared flesh of her chest, the scarred skin between her breasts. His thumb skims the spot with reverence, his lips dust there next, feeling her shudder beneath him.

She whimpers as he travels his mouth up her skin, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue slicking along the rain coated flesh of her exposed shoulder, her throat.

"Rick," she breathes, the fingers of one hand fisting in his hair, the other slipping between them to yank at the buttons of his shirt.

Castle slides his hands down her sides, her hips, and curls them around her thighs. She's ready when he lifts her, using her toes to hop into his arms.

He chuckles as her arms wrap around his neck and she flips her hair to one side, angling her head to kiss him again.

"Eager, Beckett?" he smirks into her mouth, digging his fingers into her ass as she takes his bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yes," she admits without hesitation, letting him go for a split second to shrug the sopping leather jacket from her shoulders.

It hits the floor with a wet slap, but he can't be bothered to care. She smiles into the next kiss she lays upon his mouth, her happiness tasting like champagne bubbles on his tongue.

"You really love cuddling with me, huh?"

She laughs, tightening her thighs around his waist as they start for his bedroom.

"I plan to do more than cuddle with you tonight, Castle." Her thumb traces the bone of his cheek. "Think you can handle it?"

Her eyes are sparkling, gold flashing excitement rippling through her irises.

Castle kicks the door of his office shut with his foot and carries her into the bedroom.

"The real question is, can you? If you're planning to be up with the sun-"

"No," she cuts him off, kissing him quickly before he can lower them to the bed. He bends to lay her across the mattress, the bracket of her thighs drawing down him into the cradle of her hips. "I don't plan to leave early."

"Oh?" he muses, brushing back the damp strands of hair from her cheeks.

Her fingers thread through his hair, trickle down his neck, and trail along his spine, sending a shiver through him. Her eyes wander across his face, as if studying every feature, lips settling into a soft smile.

"I want to stay," she whispers, like it's a secret.

"Then please," he murmurs, resting his forehead to hers for a moment, breathing into the thin space between them. "Stay."

[loveandprose]

struggling to live laugh and love in these EO conditions so I did pick up a Castle WIP that I haven't posted a new chapter in *checks watch* 4 years

anyway, planning to finish the whole thing in the next ten days so I can post the final batch of chapters leading up to Christmas

[bunysliper]

Castle Ficlet: Off the Highest Shelf 1/1

Off the Highest Shelf A Deep Cover (6x12) Post-Ep

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He hesitates at the threshold to his bedroom - their bedroom - watching her. Although she'd left her coat and the impossibly tall boots she'd worn all day in the closet by the front door when they got home, she hasn't yet shed the rest of her armor, instead floating through the main areas of the loft in her jeans and her cream turtleneck for the evening. She hasn't been in their room at all as far as he can tell.

Until now.

And now Kate stands in her socked feet, staring at their bed with her lip pulled between her teeth. There's a tightness around her eyes that makes him wince, an exhaustion he hates seeing from his partner. After a moment, she sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and steps over to her side of the bed and starts tugging at the covers. Not with the intention of sliding into bed, but to strip the linens from the mattress.

A glimpse of red, already dark and browning with oxidation, reminds him why she can't just climb into bed and surrender to a restful night's sleep. He slips forward at that, joining her at the head of the bed on his side.

"Are you mad?" he asks as they work in an almost choreographed tandem, stripping the pillows and the duvet while she untucks the sheets and bundles them, carefully avoiding the blood - his father's blood - on her side.

"Well, I did like these sheets," she says, dry and contained. It's exactly the response that tells him she is angry, even if she doesn't quite realize it yet.

"That's… that's not what I mean. Are you angry about… my dad?"

Her face twitches just a bit and she sighs. "I'm frustrated that you kept it from me," she admits after a beat. "You had this entire experience in Paris last year and not only did you shut me out then, you continued to do it until now, until this case - until you had absolutely no choice but to bring me in on the family secret. Would you have even told me about him had I not stumbled upon him bleeding on my side of the bed with your mother tending to him?"

He opens his mouth to reply, to defend his decision not to tell her a year ago when Alexis was kidnapped and then to continue to hold that secret until just a few days ago, but sound doesn't make its way past his lips. Her fingers clench against the bundle of sheets and he moves to take them from her; though he's not sure if they are salvageable, he'll send them to the cleaners to have professionals try.

At first it doesn't seem like she's going to give up the linens, but when she does, she speaks again as well, "For years, you made it your mission to turn my life into an open book for you, whether I wanted it to be or not, but you're happy to stay locked up tight, to be a volume that's just high enough on a shelf to be considered off-limits, so nobody will try to read it."

"That's not-" Is it? He's not locked up tight; he shares plenty - doesn't he?

She licks her lips, running a hand through her hair before adding, "I'm trying. I'm trying to read it- you. I want to read you, as strange as it sounds to say out loud like that. You told me earlier tonight that you realized he's not family; that I am. So, start acting like it, Rick. Talk to me - tell me things."

"You don't need to be off-limits anymore," she adds, lifting a shoulder quickly as if it will distract from how deeply she feels about this subject.

Taking a deep breath, he leans over to drop the sheets on the floor near their bedroom door. It's not a perfect solution (and a little bit gross if he thinks too hard about it - he'll make sure to clean the hardwood, too), but he needs his hands free to reach for her and draw her into his chest.

Beckett sighs, relaxing into his embrace and slipping her arms around his waist. Her breath skims across his neck and he feels her sink deeper against him.

"I think… more than anything, I think it hurt my feelings," she admits into his skin. "Being left out like that."

His hands flex against her back, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm sorry. That was… it was never… I'm sorry."

She nods after a moment, accepting his fumbled apology. "I know. And I know that was how you felt with the AG job and the interview."

Castle brushes his fingers through the ends of her hair, contemplating her words. They'd done the same thing to each other - unknowingly and unwittingly, but they had.

"Kate-"

Her lips brush his jaw, cutting off whatever it is he'd been about to say (though he's not entirely sure what it had been, beyond another apology, maybe even an assurance that he hadn't been trying to even the score or something like that).

"I know, Rick. I know it's not some kind of tit for tat. But…tell me now?" she asks, lifting a hand to cup the back of his neck. "While we make the bed?"

He nods, resting his cheek against her forehead. "Okay. But I warn you, it might give you more information about my mother's sex life than you ever want to know."

Kate laughs, giving his neck a squeeze. "I think I can handle it. I do sort of live with her now, you know."

Castle touches his lips to her hairline. "And you know what she's like."

"Oh hush, she's not that bad." Kate steps back, reaching for a bottle of disinfectant that he takes and sprays for her.

"Now. Imagine back then."

Kate hands him a rag to swipe over the mattress as well. There aren't any visible stains, thankfully, but he's not going to argue with her directions.

"I don't need to imagine," she says, rubbing a hand down his back. "Because you can tell me."

Her lips dust the back of his neck, the gesture soft and relaxing; it's not an interrogation, she just wants to know, wants to listen. So, he talks, telling her his mother's side of the story from when he was growing up, weaving it into the tale of the harrowing days when Alexis was missing and his father's daring rescue in Paris.

When that story concludes, all it takes is a soft look from her and a squeeze of her hand on his forearm for him to offer up everything else that's been on his mind since they caught their most recent case.

------------------------------------------------------------------------ Long time, no see! It's been a time recently, and putting words to paper has been difficult, but I was able to finish this yesterday so I figured I would offer it to the world today. Thanks for reading.

[writingwell]

Resuscitation by mysterymuse & chezchuckles (me) (here's the AO3 version)

Linchpin AU. What if Beckett confesses her secret? Two-shot. A co-authored story by @mysterymuseffn and @writingwell

My notes: A few months ago I was messaged by mysterymuse who asked if I would like to do a collaboration. Since I'm kind of out of the Castle world, she basically had everything set: different options, a couple of drafts, some outlines. All I had to do was pick.

What an interesting and revealing journey! I haven't collabed in a while, and it was good to get back to Castle, to remember why I loved them so much. But also, it was good to run up against another writer with definite opinions on these characters and the strength to have a conversation about the choices she was making. I respect that. What it means is that this story is something I'd never have written alone--just as any good collaboration always is.

Deepest thanks to @mysterymuseffn for having the guts to ask, but also the really incredible flexibility to roll with my 'hey so is it okay if we don't do any outlines and just see what happens?' Lol.

See what you guys think.

[lordofkavaka]

(photo's original post)

He stopped in the doorway, head tilting to the side as he admired the view of his wife sleeping, lying on her side, her back to him, the window open to the tropical air outside. His gaze traveled over the gorgeous contours of her body. The blanket only came up to her hipbone, leaving the rest of her tantalizing form exposed to his greedy eyes.

I'm a lucky man, he thought as he milked in the scene, wanting to remember it for the rest of his life. He still couldn't believe it was real, that Kate Beckett was his wife. She married him. She actually said yes.

"Castle?" came a drowsy voice.

He blinked, and glanced down to see her arching her neck over her shoulder, her brow wrinkling adorably as she squinted up at him.

"Yes?"

"Stop staring, it's creepy," she grumbled softly, adding a little glare to punctuate her words.

"I wasn't staring," he objected. "I was admiring the view."

"Well," she said, rolling over to give his eyes much more to feast upon. "Get back in bed and you can do much more than 'admire the view'."

He grinned and eagerly followed her suggestion, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her close. "I love you, Mrs. Castle."

She smiled back up at him. "And I love you, Mr. Beckett."

Before he could protest the nomenclature appellation, she was kissing him, and all other thoughts were pushed aside.

[castleficpromoter]

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[novamariestark]

A babysitter, a favour and a Desk

Summary: You used to babysit Alexis 4 years ago but left to focus on your studies. You're now 19, and a simple favour turned into the fantasy you'd dreamt about nightly all those years ago

Warnings: age gap, reader is 19, piv, unprotected sex, babysitter, desk sex, rough, slightly possessive (poorly written by an amateur writer), minors dni

Word count: 1905

Fandom: Castle

Pairing: Castle x former babysitter!reader

Did you plan for this to happen? No. But you’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed you mind once… or a thousand times. But back then, it was just a schoolgirl crush on your boss.

For two years, you babysat his daughter, Alexis, but when your exams started and you began to feel the exhaustion from having too many things piled up on your plate, you had to leave. You still keep in touch with Alexis, often she’d send you a question she was stuck on, or you’d video chat and help her with her homework, but Alexis is a smart girl, you don’t actually believe she needs help but just wanted to talk to you.

You didn’t mind at all. In fact, you looked forward to hearing her voice, seeing her face. She was growing up so fast. She was no longer that little girl you used to take to ballet classes and ice cream parlors.

You hadn't seen him for 4 years when Alexis called you and asked you to stay with her whilst he left the state for a case. You were happy to, of course. And he was more at ease, knowing that his daughter was going to be with someone he had trusted for a long time.

The last time you saw him, he was just a father figure, but now... you couldn't help but notice how good he looked.

The moment he stepped into the room, the air seemed to shift. There was an electricity between you two, and it became more noticeable when he wrapped you in a hug. You could feel his body pressed against yours, and his familiar scent made you shiver.

As he pulled away, he looked you up and down, taking in your appearance. You could see the heat building in his eyes, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. "You've grown up so much, [Y/N]," he whispered, his voice rough and low.

"You look the same," you replied with a nervous, breathy laugh. "Just as good." He smiled down at you, his blue eyes sparkling. You could feel the heat between your legs growing more intense by the second. "How long will you be gone?" you asked, trying to break the tension.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "A few days, maybe. It all depends on how long it takes to crack this case." You nodded, "The card for food and other necessities is in the draw in my study, don't let my mother use it, she doesn't know the meaning of the word necessities,"

"Got it,"

And with that he left. You spent the next few days alone with Alexis, just like old times. You cooked together, watched movies, did each other's hair, and even painted your toenails. It felt so comfortable and natural being there, like you'd never left.

But a couple of days later you heard a noise coming from down the hall. You knew it wasn't Alexis, she was asleep, and Martha had a "date”.

You didn't expect to find him sitting in his study with his laptop on his lap. He looked up as you walked in, his eyes meeting yours. "Hey, [Y/N]," he said, his voice gruff from exhaustion. "I didn't think I'd see you until morning."

"I didn't know it was you," you said, trying to steady your breath. "I just came to... to check on the noise."

Your eyes unwillingly made their way to his desk, which was the object of many of your fantasies over the years. You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel his strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap. The thought made your heart race.

He looked at you for a moment. Shit! Had he caught you? Did he know what you were thinking about? Was it obvious? Perhaps it was. Your legs were clenched together to get any kind of friction you could.

He noticed and he wants to help you with that. He stands up and walk towards you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches out to cup your face in his hands, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Is there something you need, baby?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the contact. "I-I'm fine," you stammer.

He smirks, "Liar." Then, before you can react, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is soft at first, just a gentle brush of his lips against yours. But as you respond, it deepens, becoming more urgent and demanding. His hands slide down your back, pulling your body flush against his.

You moan into the kiss, arching your back as you feel his hard length pressing against your stomach. You run your hands through his hair, gripping the soft strands as he explores your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rising between your legs, and you're so wet you can barely stand it.

He breaks the kiss, he notices when your eyes trail towards the desk again, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you breathe heavily. He smirks and pulls you with him, guiding you to the desk. He lifts you to sit on it, parting your legs so he can stand in between them, his hard length pressing against your center. His hands slide up under your paper-thin shirt. His rough fingertips graze across your silky-smooth skin as they trail upwards, towards your covered breasts. You arch your back, offering yourself more to him. He leans down, kisses your neck, your collarbone, before cupping your breasts in his hands.

cupping your breasts, massaging them through your bra. You moan, arching your back, and he takes that as an invitation, kissing and nipping at your neck as he works at unbuttoning your pajama pants.

You feel his fingers slide along the band of your underwear, and then his warm breath on the bare skin of your thigh. He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, and you nod eagerly, unable to form any words. His fingers slip beneath the lace, sliding over your slick folds as he finds your clit. He circles it slowly, teasing you, making you moan and writhe against his touch.

With his other hand, he reaches up to unfasten the buttons of your pajama top, revealing your bare chest to the cool air. His fingers graze across your hardened nipples, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. He leans in, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently, rolling his tongue over the peak.

You can't focus on anything but the feel of his lips and tongue as he works his finger in tandem with his thumb, teasing your clit. Your hips buck up against his hand, seeking more contact. He watches you, eyes dark with desire, as you arch your back and cry out, your body tensing.

"God, you feel so tight," he whispers, kissing your neck before moving down to suck on your collarbone. His fingers continue to work, pushing inside you as you begin to lose control. The tension coiling in your belly threatens to snap free at any moment. You can feel it building, building, building.

He leans in, taking your other nipple between his teeth and biting down softly. The pain-tinged pleasure shoots through you. You cry out, arching your back as your first orgasm of the night crashes over you. Your muscles contract, your body spasms, and you writhe against his hand, his fingers still buried deep inside you.

He watches you, his eyes dark with lust as you ride out the wave of your orgasm. He continues to stroke you, his thumb circling your clit until you're spent and gasping for air. He pulls his fingers out of you and gently pushes you back onto the desk, your legs still spread wide.

His lips trail down your chest, over your stomach, and to your navel, where he licks and sucks gently.

"Rich…" You moan, arching into his touch. He pulls your pants down just enough to free his hard length from them, and then guides it to your entrance. Still wet from your orgasm, he slides easily inside you. He groans at the feeling that engulfs him, his hips bucking forward as he sinks deeper.

His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you.

As if you were being pulled to the heavens, your chest rises from the desk, your eyes roll back as his cock brushes that spot inside you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and gasps and his deep, sexy groans. You can feel him deep inside you, his length stretching you, filling you up.

You feel the tightening deep within, the coil of pleasure building, once more. He holds you close, his lips finding your ear, your neck, your cheek, his words hot against your skin. "God, you feel so good," he whispers, his hips still moving, keeping him deep inside you as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

But apparently, he wasn't done with you yet. He begins to pound into you harder, faster. You're sprawled on the desk, his hands on your thighs in a bruising grip as he pulls your body roughly into his. Your cries of pleasure mix with the pain of the grip, filling the room. He doesn't slow down after your next orgasm. He just relentlessly pounds into you, like he's trying to make up for lost time. Like he's just using you for his own pleasure, your body nothing more than an object to be conquered.

You're not sure if you hate him or love him for it. The way he takes you, the force with which he moves, it's almost painful but in the best possible way. His breath is hot and ragged against your neck, his hands gripping you so tightly it hurts, but you don't want him to stop.

He slows but only to turn you over. Your face now roughly pressed against the desk. He wastes no time re-entering your wet entrance. His hips slam into you with newfound force. Your cries muffled by the wooden surface. He thrusts deep, hitting your spot with every stroke. The edge of the desk strokes your clit with every thrust of his hips, maximizing the pleasure coursing through you.

The desk creaks beneath your weight as he uses it to brace himself, his other hand fisting in your hair, holding you still for his enjoyment. You feel so exposed, so owned, but you can't help but love it. He growls, his breath hot against your ear as he reaches climax, thrusting hard and deep one final time.

His weight comes down on top of you, pinning you to the desk as his hips stutter and shudder with the force of his orgasm. You feel him, feel everything as he empties himself into you, as if he's pouring his very soul out through his cock. You can feel the heat of him, the strength of him, the power he has over you. You can feel his erection soften inside you, but he doesn't move, doesn't pull out. He just lays there, his body still connected to yours, his breath mingling with yours.

@mariechristine00 I'm sorry 😅

[shmaptainwrites]

Pay It Forward [Richard Castle]

Pairings: Richard Castle x GN!Reader

Characters: Richard Castle, (mentions of) Kevin Ryan, Javier Esposito, Kate Beckett, Martha Rodgers, Alexis Castle

Summary: Reader jumps in between Castle and a suspect before a fight and ends up spending the night confronting her feelings for the bestselling author

Warnings: descriptions of injury (non-graphic), insecurity, hospital mention

Note: And yet another Castle fic, again honestly most of this was written a few consecutive late nights in a row so I don't really know if the progression makes much sense, but I like it so who cares ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this has been in my drafts for months wtf is wrong w me

Getting hurt in the line of duty was something in the back of the mind of every law enforcement officer. Even author Richard Castle suspected there would be an occasion or two where he’d bite the bullet (figuratively and literally). 

What he didn’t expect however was when following a lead an officer would jump between him and a suspect right before an altercation began. 

To be honest, you didn’t expect to do it either, but there was something about reflexes that you just didn’t have any control over. 

Castle tried to get in and give you a hand, but you yelled at him to stay back even though you knew you were in over your head. Your body was hopped up on so much adrenaline that it took you a moment to register when you were down. 

It wasn’t the worst you had been hurt, but you knew each of the small injuries added to one another would mean you’d be benched for the foreseeable future. 

“Shit!” you cursed as the suspect managed to get away. “Castle, call Ryan and Esposito I’m in no shape to go after this guy, make sure-ow,” you gripped onto your side as you sat up. “Make sure they have uniforms canvassing all the spots he might have gone to.” 

Castle nodded and quickly made the call for you before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Hey, you don’t look too good,” he bent down next to you, noticing your split lip and a few other cuts you had around your face. Not to mention what looked like it could be a sprained ankle and a few bruised ribs.

“Been through worse, Castle,” you tried to push yourself up without much success. 

“I should take you to a hospital.” 

“No hospital,” you shook your head adamantly. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Like hell you will be,” he placed a hand around your back and helped you up, confirming his suspicions of a sprained ankle when you winced at the pressure you placed on your right foot. “If you won’t let me take you to a hospital, at least let me patch you up. I must have some things lying around at home we can make use of.” 

“Castle-,” 

“Don’t even try arguing with me on this,” he gave you a stern look. “I signed my papers, you didn’t have to jump in like that.” 

You sighed, “I know, it just sort of happened.” 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “Just let me pay it forward.” 

You nodded your head and Castle supported you as you limped to the car. 

During the ride to Castle’s place, Ryan and Esposito called to inform you that just as you had suspected your perp had gone to one of his usual hideouts and had been intercepted by uniformed officers. Not without a fight, of course. 

“Glad that’s over,” you let out a breath and massaged your wrist. You had used it to break your fall when he had knocked you down, but you figured it was nothing that some ice and a tensor bandage couldn’t fix. 

Castle agreed with you as he pulled into the parking of his building and got out to give you a hand. You knew it was better not to fight him right now so you let him. You sent out a silent thank you to whoever invented elevators knowing your trip up would have been much more uncomfortable without it. 

As you entered Castle’s apartment, you noticed it was quieter than usual. You sat down on the couch and looked around, 

“Where’s Alexis?” 

“She’s staying at a friend’s house tonight,” Castle said while bringing the first aid kit and two ice packs to the couch. 

You stayed quiet as Castle examined the cut on your forehead, his fingers carefully brushing the skin next to it. 

He then grabbed an alcohol wipe and gave you the time old warning about it stinging. You scrunched your nose as the wipe made contact with the wound, but as soon as it started it was over and he placed two steri-strip bandages to keep the wound closed.

“You seem like you’ve had a bit of practice with this,” you said. 

“Nope,” he shook his head. “First time.” 

You chuckled a little to yourself, “Happy I could be your first something, Castle.” 

That made him break his concerned face with a small smile before turning his attention to your wrist that was already on ice. 

Similar to your own thinking he used a tensor bandage to wrap it, 

“Are you gonna tell me why you didn’t want to go to a hospital?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “I’ve been ignored in one enough times to know when I can try my luck outside.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said while wrapping up your wrist. “I think by this time you know my door is open if you ever need anything.” 

“Yeah, I do,” you smiled. “Thanks, Castle, really.” 

He lifted your hand up to examine his work with a smile at a job well done before pressing a small gentle kiss to the back of your hand. 

“So it can get better, of course,” he winked and you shook your head with a light laugh at his antics. “Your ribs,” he pointed to your chest. “He hit you pretty hard there, do you mind if I take a look?” 

“Castle, I thought you were a writer not an MD,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, you’re right I’m not a doctor, but I’ve hurt myself before. Many, many times. At least maybe I can tell you if it’s worth seeing someone about it. Hey, I mean Lanie went to med school you could probably just go to her if you need to.” 

“And deal with Perlmutter if she’s not in? That’s my nightmare,” you shuddered.

“Come on, just give me a look. I promise no funny business,” he assured you and crossed his heart. 

You sighed deeply and winced a little, only prompting Castle to send you a pointed look which you acknowledged. 

“Fine, but not a word of this to Beckett, Esposito, or Ryan. They’ll chew my ear off if they hear I took my shirt off in front of you.” 

“Mum’s the word,” he nodded and with Castle’s help you slipped your shirt off. When you finally caught a glimpse of Castle he wasn’t even looking at your ribs, but instead right at you. 

“Castle, come on you said no funny business,” you whined. 

“No, no,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t-,” 

“Then what were you thinking about?” you raised your brows. 

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Not important.” 

He then turned his attention to your newly formed bruise and tilted his head a little, curiously examining it. 

“I think you should get this one looked at. Doesn’t have to be tonight, but that’s a nasty hit if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“Whatever you say Dr. Castle,” you sighed and laid back on the couch. 

You looked straight ahead for a while before turning back to look at him, only to see he was staring at you again. 

“Castle, you’re really bad at pretending not to stare,” you chuckled humourlessly. “Honestly, right now I don’t think I could care less.” 

“You make it kind of hard not to stare,” he retorted. 

“Oh yeah, how so?” 

“I just can’t seem to wrap my head around how someone who just got their ass kicked can still look so beautiful.” 

You snorted, “Really, you’re a writer, Castle. I expected more from you.” 

“I’m not lying,” he handed you your shirt back. “Shirt on or off, ass kicked or not.” 

“Tell me why I don’t believe you then?” you took a moment to slip your shirt back on with a little bit of difficulty, but you managed it nonetheless. 

“Maybe I haven’t given you much reason to,” he shrugged. “Can’t blame you there. Or maybe…” 

“Maybe what?” 

“You can’t see it yourself.”

“Can’t see it-Castle, what are you talking about?” you frowned. 

“I’ve been working with you guys for over two years, it’s kind of my job to notice things,” he started. 

“And what did you notice about me?” you ventured asking. 

“You have the capacity to do your job and excel at it like no one I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But not once do you believe maybe your hunch is right. It’s always, no, let's do Beckett’s idea that seems better, you even indulge me more than you indulge yourself.” 

You chewed on the inside of your lip, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I just hope that mentality doesn’t find its way into the rest of your life too.” 

You nodded your head, lips pressed tightly together, what he had said struck a chord with you. Resonated deep inside your heart where you knew he was right. 

“And why do you care so much about me, Castle?” you dared to ask him. “Why did I jump in front of you to just get my ass kicked by our suspect? Do you have an answer to that too?” 

“I might, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it,” he chuckled lightly. 

“Maybe we should save it for another time then,” you whispered. “I think I um…I need to get back home.” 

You pushed yourself up off the couch, but Castle blocked you before you could leave. 

“Just stay here,” he said. “It’s late, you’re hurt. I-I don’t wanna leave you alone.” 

“Castle, I know your mom’s living with you again. I don’t wanna impose-,” 

“It’s not,” he shook his head and put his hands on your arms. “I swear it. You take my bed, I’ll sleep in Alexis’ room tonight.” 

You had almost already had one foot out the door, you were so ready to get the hell out of there, run away from your feelings, but before your mind could catch up your hearts words made it to your mouth and you said, 

“Okay…I’ll stay.” 

Castle smiled and nodded his head a few times, like he was taking in the fact that you had just agreed with him, to be honest, so were you. 

“Just give me a sec, I’ll grab you some stuff to take up with you,” he said before walking off to the linen closet to grab you a towel, a pillow, and an extra blanket. He came around to the stairs and motioned for you to follow him which you did

The door at the end of the hallway upstairs was the one that he led you to, pushing it open and allowing you to enter the room while he placed the things he had grabbed for you on the bed. 

“Um washroom is over there,” he pointed, “Alexis’s room is the one by the stairs. D-Do you need something to wear?” 

“Uh, no I think I can manage in these,” you looked down at the t-shirt and joggers you were wearing, thankful you had changed into your civvies before going out of the precinct. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he nodded, walking back from his bed and coming past you. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

You nodded your head. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he pulled a package out of his pocket. “Toothbrush.”

You smiled as he handed it to you. clearly having thought of everything. 

“You sleep well,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. As he began to pull away, his eyes met with yours and before you could control your actions you could feel yourself reaching out to him. An arm wrapped around his neck, toothbrush still in hand, one hand holding his face, and before you knew it you had pulled him fully into you, your lips pressed gently against his own. 

At that moment, you didn’t care anymore, you didn’t care about fighting your feelings, about whether or not this would end terribly and whether it was a good idea in the first place. All that mattered is that you knew what you wanted, and you were going for it. 

Castle pulled away after a moment, looking again into your eyes almost asking permission. Giving you a chance to back out in case this was all some mistake. 

But when you leaned in again, he took his cue and met you in the middle. 

His hands were wrapped so gently around your waist, careful not to squeeze or press too hard, avoiding your sore spots. 

The second time you pulled apart it was for air, your foreheads resting against each other, the only sound in the room was your breathing. 

“Would you…would you stay with me?” you asked. 

He pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded. 

“Anything you want,” he whispered, and he meant it. 

You unwrapped your arm from his neck, looking down at the toothbrush in your hand with a small smile. 

“I’m gonna go…” you looked to the washroom and he nodded saying something about getting changed. 

After you finished brushing your teeth, you came back into the room just as Castle was about to slip on a t-shirt. 

“Now we’re even,” he said. “And not a word to Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan,” he teased you. 

“Come on, we both know you would love it if they knew,” you rolled your eyes and made your way closer to his bed. 

“Nah,” he shook his head and slipped on his shirt. “I think I’m okay keeping this one to myself.” 

When you sat on the edge of the bed, Castle stayed where he was, that same knowing look in his eyes.

“What are you staring at?” you asked, pulling your legs up and sitting cross-legged. 

He just shrugged and came to the other side of the bed, it was odd how you’d never noticed that look. Had he always looked at you that way? 

“Rick,” you said quietly and he nodded, showing you had his attention. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He chuckled a little, “I-Well I always thought you kind of hated me.” 

“I kind of hate everybody,” you leaned back against the headboard. “I hate you a little less.” 

He laughed and you did too, until you felt the ache in your ribs, prompting you to stop.

“I’ll take it,” he reached out to hold your hand and you took it, pulling him closer until this time he took the lead and cradled your face, kissing you again. 

“You know,” you mumbled in between kisses. “You don’t have to not say things on my account, ever.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he assured you. “And you know you’ll always have a place here.” 

“I could get used to that,” you nodded, holding his face in your hands and pulling him in even closer, until there was barely any space left between you. 

He used the proximity to wrap one of his arms around the side of your waist that wasn’t bruised and pull you over more towards him, having you practically lean into his chest, until you both sunk down into the plush mattress. 

“I don’t think I’m doing your lip much good,” he murmured while brushing his thumb across where you had split your bottom lip. 

“It’ll heal,” you kissed his thumb which was still resting against your mouth. 

“And so will you, but not if we stay up all night.”

You let out a small chuckle, “Alright, Doctor Castle, I’ll rest,” you conceded, letting your head rest against his chest, just high enough that he could bend his neck and press one last kiss to your forehead. 

Closing your eyes, it felt nice to know that someone would be there to hold you when you woke up. 

[mysterymuseffn]

You’re on a roll!!! Omg I just checked the main Castle page for anything new and I see you posted a bunch of stuff. I’m so excited to read it all!! 😍😍😍

Haha thank you 😆 I’m importing all my works from my fanfiction.net profile — happy to finally reach the AO3 crowd! I’m loving all your comments 🤗

[castlefinest]

The Castle Tumblr Community

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[bravevulnerability]

3x22 au with castle and beckett in the pool together pleeease

Castle wades in the shallow end, the pool mostly empty save for a man swimming laps and a woman, whom he just watched dive into the deep end. Her gaze snags on him the second she comes up for air. 

She swims over to him with irritation in her eyes flaring like the sun overhead. 

“I told you to stay on the deck,” Beckett growls.

“Beckett, people have seen us here together,” he reasons, trying so very hard to stop his eyes from wandering past her face, down to the exposed skin of her chest, sun-kissed and decorated with rivulets of water that race to converge at the v of her swimsuit. “Don’t you think it might look suspicious if I sit by and sip piña coladas while you seduce Royce’s killer?”

She doesn’t buy his reasoning. Not at all.

“Okay, okay, I also wanted to swim in the pool. It’s a nice pool, Beckett-”

Kate curses under her breath and flicks her eyes over his shoulder, her gaze landing on something that has her straightening in the water. Russell Ganz, he’s certain, and she confirms it when her gaze snaps back to meet his.

“Okay, since you ruined my original plan, we’re going to have to improvise.”

“I’m game. So how-” He chokes on his question as Kate places her hands to his bare shoulders. Her fingers dig into his skin ever so lightly as she uses him for purchase to reel herself in close. Her body glides through the distance between them, drifting through the water until her arms are lacing snugly around his neck.

"Castle."

He can't breathe.

"Castle," she snaps, but her lips are curled in a tight smile. "You're making me look bad. Touch me back."

"Say less," he mutters, reaching for her thighs.

She gasps in surprise when he hefts her up, her legs instinctively curling around his waist.

"I said touch not - grab," she huffs, but her arms remain folded around his neck.

"I didn't grab," he murmurs, slipping his palms up her thighs, past her hips, and splaying them wide at her spine. Her lips purse. "I'm just playing the part of a very interested male companion."

Beckett smirks, leans forward to tilt her mouth towards his ear. "So your normal role?"

"Funny," he mutters, but he's trailing his fingers up the line of her vertebrae, savoring the hitch in her breath, the stutter of it in his ear. "But you're not wrong. Though, I'd call this a more hands-on approach."

"Castle, I am trying to get Ganz's attention, stop-"

"Distracting you?" he grins, one of his hands lifting to curve along her shoulder.

He loves the structure of her bones, the strength he can see carved into her shoulders. He traces the bone of her clavicle with care, hooks his thumb under the strap of her suit.

Her head turns, nose bumping into his cheek. "He's on his phone. Not looking yet. Stop."

"I'm just touching. You said to touch-"

"I'm going to hit you," she mutters, unfurling her arms to cup her hands at his nape, lean back in his grasp. And oh, her eyes are... dark. "When he looks this way, I'm going to shove you away and get out of the pool. He'll follow."

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, lowering the hand at her shoulder back to her outer thigh. Which is pressing snugly into his hip. Holy shit he can't believe he has Kate Beckett wrapped around him.

"Because I have a plan," she shrugs, her own eyes tripping down his face, over his mouth, down to his chest.

The elegant line of her throat ripples.

Her thumb is moving in a maddening circle just below his ear, her palm draped at his pulse point. She's so close, her lips just inches away from his, the heat of her body flush with his, ruining the reprieve of the water.

He's going to kiss her. Again.

"Beckett?"

Her eyes flutter and she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry."

"What-"

And then she dunks his head under the water.

-

He's dripping wet and waiting for her when she meets him behind the bushes. But before he can say a word, she's poking him.

"Ow!" he hisses, protecting his chest before she can stab him again while she whisper yells at him.

"He called me green, Castle! What the hell were you doing?"

"I saw his phone in the cabana after you tried to drown me," he scowls. "I thought it was worth the risk."

"You took his phone?"

"No, I took a picture of his recent calls list while you were busy flirting it up."

"What?" The smile spreads wide across her face. "Where is it?"

"Don't poke me," he warns as he digs for the phone in his pocket.

"Poke you? I wanna kiss you," she grins, taking the phone from his proffered hand.

He tightens his grip on the thick towel around his waist. His life can be so unfair.

"I'd like that," he risks. "Least you could do after you dunked me."

"Oh please," she sighs, glancing up at him with mischief in her eyes.

"Beckett, water went up my nose. Do you know how unpleasant-"

She lifts on her toes, lips at his cheek and dangerously close to his mouth.

She presses a kiss to his skin.

"Better?" she husks, and he curls his fingers at her hipbone, fisting the slinky, wet fabric of her wrap, her swimsuit, in his hand.

He exhales slowly. This new game they're playing, teasing the fire between them... he's not sure he can survive it.

"For now."

[loveandprose]

no other shade of blue but you, chapter 8:

Castle sleeps fitfully for most of the night, keeping one ear open for any more distress from his partner. At around 5, he can’t fight it anymore and falls into a deep, uninterrupted sleep. 

He awakens to morning light spilling gently through a gap in the curtains — and a warm Kate Beckett snuggled into his chest, one arm slung loosely around his waist. 

Oh. 

Oh, this is bad. 

Well, it’s good, actually, so, so, good — but bad. She will absolutely not be okay with the knowledge that her body betrayed her sometime in the night. 

He could try to extricate himself, but it would be dicey. His best course of action — if he knows what’s good for him — is to pretend to be asleep when she wakes, save her at least some of the embarrassment he knows is coming. 

One thing he knows for sure: she’s definitely going to be prickly all day. Between their current state as snuggle partners and her rare moments of vulnerability last night, it’s quite possible she’s going to eat him alive today.

here on ff.net here on AO3

[bunysliper]

https://www.tumblr.com/gallow-glass/692512417889107968/acta-non-verba?source=share fic prompt

Lake Day

"Having a good time?"

She watches as her words take a moment to register, and grins when Castle blinks a few times to focus on her.

"A good time?" he repeats, allowing his head to swivel a bit to take in their surroundings; the wind has been a little heavy so far, so the water of the lake is choppier than usual, but the sun shines and the temperature is comfortable enough for them to rest on padded mats on the dock. "Oh yeah."

 Beckett grins, feeling her cheeks warm.

It's silly to be so bashful because of two simple words, but here she is, blushing like a school girl because her boyfriend is having a good time doing the activity she planned for them.

"Yeah? I know it's not a big house in the Hamptons, but-"

Castle's hand scrambles across the dock, brushing over her wrist before he twines their fingers together. He lifts their joined hands to his mouth.

"Beckett," he murmurs, making sure she knows he's about to say something serious – something that will probably leave her grasping for words, "I don't care where we are – big house, little house, no house – as long as you're with me. The fact that you brought me to your dad's cabin is… it's beyond what I could've ever hoped."

She bites her lip, nodding. "Yeah? Even with the squeaky floors and the doors that don't close unless you shove them?"

His lips dust over her knuckles. "Especially with those things. They make this place yours."

"My dad's," she tries, shifting closer. It hadn't felt like her cabin when she was recovering from being shot. It hadn't felt like her cabin when her dad used to hole up here when he was on a bender.

But now…

"Yours, Kate. It's yours, too."

Now there's a warmth, a feeling of home. Because he's here with her.

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

What are some of your favorite Caskett fics? I’m looking for some recommendations and I’d love to hear what you’ve got.

Pretty much anything by @bravevulnerability...seriously, SO talented!

Pretty much anything by @do-it-for-the-fandom...again, super talented writer. The fics are great and excellently written, but fair warning...some of them are going to give you, uh...feelings. I'm still carrying around some feelings from some of these fics (I'm looking at you Maelstrom).

I just finished "100 Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra" by Dana Keylits. This is a long one...obviously slightly mature. There are some moments in this story that had me laughing out loud so much!

I usually enjoy @bunysliper (Trinity Everett on fanfiction.net) as well. I recently finished "What Happens in AC" but there are multiples from this author on my favorites list.

If you like "spicier" fics, you definitely want to check out the list from @i-prefer-west-side (Spicier means smutty, lol).

I'm currently working my way through the Caskett collection on fanfiction.net (I'm on page 203 and heading toward page 1, lol). All of these authors and stories are on fanfiction.net.

I'm sure you were probably looking for specific fics, and outside of the Kama Sutra title, I basically just gave you a list of authors. But trust me, there are enough stories on those author's pages to keep you busy for a while. These are writers whose stories inspire my own writing as well, so I sincerely hope you check them out. I believe you will enjoy them! Thanks for asking!

[wendykw]

Fic req

I was looking at the list of stories that I've favorited on FF net. I favorited this story in 2013, but the reason this story is special to me happened in 2014. The Sunday before my husband died, we danced in the living room. He was feeling better, and it was a great day. We danced to Bridge Over Troubled Water, because it was the song we had sung at our wedding.

I think this mini-fic deserves some attention, because it is sweet, romantic, and makes the story of Jim and Johanna even more beautiful.

[castleficpromoter]

Castle Ficathon Winter 2024 STARS TODAY!

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