#castle fanfic
Note
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."
#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic#kate beckett#richard castle#castle au#castle#mine#this feels so choppy#it's been too long since I've had the time to write for fun#hopefully you enjoy anon!
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(Source unknown, I found it in a folder on my hard drive)
CAUGHT IN THE ACT
5x01 insert AU
She can't wipe the grin off her face.
Interruption aside, one that prevented her and Castle from starting the day off with round four, it's been a pretty good morning. Wearing his shirt, making them both coffee - obviously surprising him, if the look on his face was any indication - a great cap to what was an amazing night.
She's so caught up in her thoughts, anticipating when she'll see him again, that she doesn't see the person at the door until she hears the sharp snap of her name.
"Katherine Beckett!"
Kate jumps, dropping the bra she didn't bother putting back on. Her cheeks warm, and she quickly picks it up, ignores the accusing look being thrown at her. "What are you doing here?"
Lanie props one hand on her hip. "Heard what happened yesterday. Apparently you quit?"
"Resigned."
"Mm-hmm. So I brought coffee-" She lifts the tray in her other hand. "-figured you could use some company after moping all night. Looks like moping wasn't even on the table."
Kate unlocks her door and hears Lanie follow her into her apartment. "You got that right," she murmurs.
Lanie leans against the kitchen counter and sips her tea. "So," she says after a minute of silence, "you and Castle made up."
Kate's cheeks warm even more, and she gnaws at her bottom lip. "Something like that," she admits. "But don't say anything, okay? His mom came home and he had me hide in the closet and then sneak out, so I don't think he wants anyone to know yet."
"You hid in the closet?" Lanie throws her head back and laughs. "Your secret's safe with me. Now, tell me everything."
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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.
Part I: leaving the crime scene.
Part II: the phone call.
Part III: a visit to the morgue.
Part IV: the lunch break.
Beckett stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the last of the espresso double-shot to drip from the machine so that she could pour the perfectly foamed milk into her mug. She was getting better at this; soon enough she'd be able to make herself a cup of coffee to rival Castle's, she was sure of it.
The boys had paraded through the bullpen with Reggie and his body guard only ten minutes ago. Their interrogation was far from over and, with everything panning out the way it had been, Beckett had decided that now was as good a time as ever for a caffeine boost.
Castle evidently had the same idea.
He walked into the break room and moved to take his place by her side. But he stood too close. Too close for at the precinct, anyway.
Out of habit - yes, after only two weeks they had already formed too many habits - his hand came to rest on her lower back and his chest brushed against her shoulder. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose: trying to drive her crazy with the close proximity, the familiarity of his touch. But she hated having to hold back and it would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't constantly putting her in the position of having to be the one to redraw those boundaries.
With a sigh, she stepped to the side and regretfully created some distance between them.
"You know what I was just thinking?" Castle asked her as he turned and leaned back against the bench.
"That it's always the nice guy athlete that lets you down?" she mused with just a hint of bitterness.
Castle frowned. "There's obviously a backstory to that snide remark," he commented curiously. She looked at him, waited for the hounding questions but he shook his head. "No. I was thinking..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he stepped closer to her. After just a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "It's almost lunch time."
Beckett looked at him, waited for him to maybe continue on with that train of thought. Instead, he just waggled his eyebrows.
"And?"
"And, I just happened to leave my packed lunch at home this morning."
She frowned; since when did Castle pack a lunch? But then she realized what he was suggesting. "So you'll be needing to go home to get it."
Castle smiled, took another small step in her direction. He was invading her space again; the smell of his cologne too alluring to ignore and she - for the second time that day - abandoned her coffee.
"I was hoping that maybe you could give me a lift?" he asked, still playing this game he had obviously decided he liked. "You know, save me the hassle of trying to hail a cab."
"You seem to have forgotten the case we're working on. The one that is far from solved," she reminded him.
He shrugged. "Gotta take your mandated break, right?"
"And you want me to spend my break playing taxi for you?"
"I promise to make it worth your while."
#my drabbles#kate beckett#richard castle#caskett#castle#kate beckett x richard castle#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic
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Castlemas '23 #7: Scenic
Post Series
"Mommy, they tryna kiss me!" Reece giggles.
"I see that baby," Kate smiles at his excitement. "You wanna say hello?"
"Hewwo," Reece mutters, holding out the carrot he had for them. "Are yous gonna be bwinging Santa to my house?"
"If you're good," Castle reminds him, helping Jake and Lily with their carrots.
"I been so good," Jake assures him.
"Me too," Lily tells the reindeer. "More than my brothers." She whispers, but still loud enough that her parents catch the quip, share a smirk.
"Do you like jus' carrots? Do you want my brocoli?" Reece offers.
Kate laughs. "Sorry peanut, you're not getting out of eating your veggies."
Her little boy huffs but takes another carrot, holding it out for eager chomps, Kate making sure his fingers stay away from their teeth.
"Daddy, you got to tell them how to get to our house," Jake reminds his father.
"Don't worry buddy," Castle assures him. "Santa has a GPS like we have in our car."
"But you still get lost," Lily points out, much to amusement of her mother.
"Santa will actually use his," Kate promises. "Daddy likes adventure."
"Scenic, Kate, scenic route," Castle corrects.
#castlemas 23#castle fanfic#my fanfic#photo prompt#kate beckett#richard castle#lily castle#jake castle#reece castle
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Fic prompt: s5 pillow talk 💛
I know it's been forever since you prompted this, I hope you like it!
Talks in the Dark
"What'd you want to be when you grew up?"
The question comes out of the blue, a complete non sequitur to the last words they'd spoken (which had been more breathless pants than an actual conversation), but Kate just laughs, reaching back for his hand and bringing it around her body to bring his chest flush with her back.
"When you were really little, I mean," he continues, dusting a kiss to the skin at the back of her neck. "I know you told me once that when you were in college you were pre-law, and then you became the greatest detective in the world, but when you were your little, tiny, feisty baby Beckett self, what'd you want to be?"
Kate strokes her fingertips over the back of his hand, using the gentle rhythm to help herself think. She knows she'd wanted to be something different back then, all kids did even if it was something absolutely absurd, but she can't for the life of her remember what it was.
"I really don't know," she says. "I guess maybe I always kind of wanted to be like my mom."
She feels him smile against her skin, shivering when he brushes his stubble along her shoulder.
"I could see that," he agrees. "You do stick to your guns when you know what you want."
Kate exhales, clutching his hand a little tighter. She's trying not to be so rigid, but she knows he's seen that side of her too often.
"My dad used to joke that 'stubborn' should have been my middle name."
Castle chuckles. "Katherine Stubborn Beckett; it does have a ring to it."
She smiles. "Not the worst name in the world, anyway."
He hums.
"Come to think of it, though, I feel like I did once tell my parents I wanted to be a groundskeeper in a cemetery after we went to a funeral."
Castle's head tilts on the pillow. "I need to know. Tell me everything. How did you go from lawyer to groundskeeper in a cemetery, and back to lawyer?"
"I remember seeing the care they took in making sure the graves looked nice, and it was quiet and peaceful there."
"And you didn't think, even for a second that it might be haunted?"
She snorts. "Not even a little bit."
"Party pooper."
Kate hums. "What about you? What'd you want to be before little Ricky Castle decided the life of a writer was for him?"
Castle's fingers twitch in hers. "Oh, I definitely wanted to be a ghostbuster who patrolled a cemetery. Zap a few poltergeists with my proton pack before they can terrorize people? The best."
She doesn't believe it for a second, but she laughs anyway, giving him that.
"And then I'd fall in love with an unbelievably, unrealistically sexy cemetery groundskeeper and we'd be together forever, making sure the army of the undead never rose to terrorize the city."
Kate snorts. "No really, Castle. What'd you want to be?"
He exhales. "A journalist, I think. Television, print, either. I wanted to report facts to people and keep them up to date about what was going on in the world. I used to sit Mother down and force her to watch my nightly news reports. Which I wrote myself about events I almost completely made up."
His lips pucker against her skin. "It turns out fiction is much more fun."
Kate laughs. "Now that I believe."
Behind her, Castle hums.
"I am glad to know that about you, though," she adds. Pulling her hand out of his grip, her fingers trail down his arm, making soothing strokes. "Thanks for telling me."
His foot brushes hers. "Thanks for telling me about yours, too. You would make a pretty hot groundskeeper, you know."
Laughter bubbles in her chest. "Thanks, Castle," she drawls. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever decide to change jobs."
He grins against her skin. "Good."
Quiet settles, blanketing them in warmth. Kate sinks deeper into the mattress, allowing herself to drift. She's on the cusp of sleep when she hears her name again.
"Mmm?"
"I love you."
A smile works its way over her lips. "I know."
He chuckles, pulling her closer, rearranging the tangle of limbs they've created until they're both comfortable.
"Hey Cas'le?" she says a second later, peeking an eye open and twisting her head as far as she can. She can't see him, but it's the thought that counts.
"Yeah?"
"I love you, too."
#castle fanfic#castle fanfiction#caskett#caskett fanfic#fluffy friday#my fanfic#prompt responses#Season 5 Fic
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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.
#richard castle#richard castle x reader#rick castle#rick castle x reader#castle abc#castle#richard castle fanfiction#richard castle fanfic#rick castle fanfiction#rick castle fanfic#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic
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Could you write a fic where Beckett has been sick for a bit and keeps insisting it’s a cold before Castle forces her to take a Covid test preferably pre-couple pretty pleaseeee🙏🏼
pre-couple but covid, idk what time machine shenanigans would go on for that, so i made it tried-to-be-a-couple didn't-work might-try-again-any-day. you might not be looking for that. but here you go:
What started innocently enough soon turned vicious: from a tickle to a hellacious barking, sniffing when she drank a freshly made cup of espresso to vampire sneezing explosively in rapid succession.
Every eyebrow in the bullpen went up. Every eye turned her way, suspicious and damning.
She seemed to notice her audience, turned to him instead, glaring as she spat, "It's not covid!"
"Uh-huh," he answered. Both hands raised in surrender.
But they all knew.
(Well, they all suspected, because it was 2022, and they were midway through boosters and Delta/Omicron and Great Flu Resurgence and some of the beat officers were getting RSV on top of that and then a stomach flu went around when the masks came off in the precinct, and really, coughing and sneezing and a scratchy voice—what else could it be?)
No one was immune to the suspicion, just as no one was immune to covid but in the window of time afforded to one by the life of the vaccine or a previous bout with the novel corona virus, and well, everyone had their own story to tell, much like after 9/11 when that was the first thing people talked about in the street or meeting for a drink, where were you, only now it was how many of your family died or how long were you laid up?
Rick Castle cornered her (not too closely, no; he knew she was contagious and he didn't want his mother getting it, vaccinated or not) in the parking garage of the Twelfth before she could ride up to Homicide.
"It's not covid," she hissed, before he could even speak.
"So take a test," he answered easily. "Put our minds at ease."
"I did. I have. I've taken three," she hissed.
If he stepped back to avoid whatever sprayed from her hissing, could you blame him? "This morning? Before the call about the body?"
"Last night," she said. A grudging hesitation. "It was negative last night."
"Okay, then maybe go to the City clinic," he said amicably. "Could be strep." Or whooping cough.
"I don't feel bad, no body aches, no fever—"
"Alexis got strep every winter until she was thirteen. That year, no strep! We joked she'd grown out of it. But then her best friend, after every sleepover, would mysteriously come down with strep and Alexis wouldn't. Friend's mom made me take her in and get tested. Sure enough, she was asymptomatic."
"It's not strep," Beckett answered. Scathingly, but she was the Captain, and she did often push him aside when she needed to get going and he was being difficult.
(Busy woman, the Captain of the Twelfth. He was often being difficult, considering he wouldn't quit her and she wouldn't commit to him.
But she wasn't wrong, since she had a press conference to get to and a Homicide division to micro-manage. Whoops, did he say micro-manage? He was being mean. In his own head. To the woman of his dreams/nightmares.
Theirs was often a love-hate relationship these days.)
He kept silent, rode the elevator up with her. He made her a cup of espresso in the break room while she prepped for the press conference. Granted, he was rushing to get it ready—coffee was still their love language, despite the bumps in their road—but when she took a sip and her face blanched, he knew.
"Ahem. Funny taste?"
"It's not covid, Castle."
At the press conference, she was in the middle of her rundown on the DB—okay, yes, Castle should have been listening but the guy had been a jackass member of City Council who had tried to get her fired—and her voice cracked.
She cleared her throat. Coughed delicately into her fist. Tried again.
Her voice broke like fine porcelain in the hands of underpaid movers, and the first question from the press was, Are you coming down with something?
She steadfastly refused to look at him. Deny deny deny, and she was getting good at it, as the Captain of the Twelfth, had to give her that.
He was home that night working on book edits—he was giving Nikki Heat a vicious bout of covid, laying her up in her apartment, when a murderer comes to call—when his phone vibrated off his desk and dropped to the floor.
Her face the ID. From that ill-fated night in his bed. She had changed it twice before he'd discovered a passcode to his phone she couldn't guess/wheedle from his mother. Even now, it filled with him a melange of dread and sweetness, terror and tenderness.
"Captain Beckett, you rang?"
"Castle—"
"You sound awf—"
"I have covid."
"I know," he murmured, rising to his feet. "I bought chicken soup from the Czech deli on my way home, and I have a guy on speed dial who can prescribe you paxlovid."
"The drug? I heard it gives you rebound covid."
"That's not because of the drug," he told her, gathering his keys and wallet, his jacket. "It's just a thing some people get, treatment or no."
"Okay," she croaked. "Get me drugs."
"I'll be right there."
He arrived forty-seven minutes later with the prescription, chicken soup, a package of KN95s, his laptop, and a determination he'd not felt since that botched night.
She took it all.
She wore the mask, laid on the couch in the living room with her face to a satin pillow, her eyes slitted like a cat, and watched him make edits on the book.
"Did you give her covid?" she rasped.
"Yes."
She didn't answer. Merely watched him.
He submitted his first round of edits and made her a bowl of soup, wore his own mask but wouldn't isolate from her as she sipped the broth. Her throat worked as if each swallow was pain. Her eyes had dark rings, bruised-looking, and her hair was limp. She coughed and they both flinched.
He fished a water with electrolytes from his bag of provisions, opened it for her because her fingers looked fragile. She drank. She eyed him.
She fell asleep with the bowl against her chest, half drunk. He took it from her, put the water on the floor close at hand, couldn't resist pushing the hair back behind her ear.
He bent low. Held his breath for an instant before he confessed: "I didn't want to. But. I still love you."
-----
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Green Eggs and Ham for Breakfast
“Good morning Miss Lily. Are you ready for another fun day with Mommy and Daddy?”
“Uppy, Daddy, pease.”
Rick lifts his 22-month-old daughter from her crib and quickly changes her diaper. He’ll wait until after breakfast to dress her for the day. “What would you like for breakfast this morning?”
“Gween eggs an’ ham, pease.”
“Are you Sam-I-Am today? I think I can make those. Let’s see if Mommy is dressed, because green eggs and ham will take a little longer.”
Lily jabbers about Sam-I-Am and eggs while Rick carries her downstairs. Kate is dressed and preparing their coffee. “Lily wants green eggs and ham for breakfast,” Rick announces with a raised eyebrow.
“Is Daddy going to make that for you, baby? I’ve never had green eggs and ham. Maybe he can make it for all of us.” Kate walks over to where Rick is securing Lily in her highchair. “Your coffee is ready, Babe. I’ll feed the munchkin some fruit, while you create some fiction-inspired food.”
Rick gives Kate a quick kiss, “We have eggs. We have ham. Annnd, we have green food coloring. No reason I can’t make green eggs and ham. I knew Lily loved the book, but I didn’t expect her to make that her breakfast order. Thanks for making coffee.”
“Would you grab the cantaloupe from the fridge, Babe? I’ll cut it up for Lily and for us. Orange and green go together, don’t you think?”
Rick laughs while he is gathering ingredients for breakfast. He deposits the eggs and ham next to the stove, and grabs the Cheerios and a knife on his way to give Kate the melon. Kate gives Lily a few Ohs to keep her happy, while she cuts a piece of cantaloupe into small pieces.
Rick listens to his wife talking to their daughter, and Lily trying to find the words to answer. He scrambles their eggs in a bowl and adds green food coloring by drops until he’s happy with the shade of green he sees. Kate places plates on the counter near the stove. “Those eggs are certainly green. Actually you’ve created a lovely shade there, Stud.”
Kate gets a quick kiss for the compliment, and Rick pours the eggs into the pan. Within a few minutes the eggs are done, and he heats the ham slightly. He tastes and seasons the eggs. Kate has checked on Lily and made toast. “Honey, prepare to be amazed by breakfast. The eggs taste like eggs, despite their greenness.”
When Rick places Lily’s plate on her tray, she smiles and says, “Fanks, Daddy.” Lily ignores her fork and puts a handful of eggs in her mouth. “Yum, Daddy. Fanks.”
Kate samples her food and smiles at her husband, “Fanks for sure, Daddy. It’s very tasty.”
“I guess Dr. Seuss wasn’t wrong, because 'I do so like green eggs and ham.'"
A/N: My son asked for green eggs and ham when he was that age, and my husband whipped them up for us.
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I just finished Handle With Care by bravevulnerability 🥺🥰🤩🫶🏻 does anyone have any great Caskett fics they can recommend? ☺️
#castle fanfic#castle fanfiction#Caskett fanfic#caskett fanfiction#castle fic#Caskett fic#kate beckett#Rick castle#Richard castle#castle abc#bravevulnerability#handle with care
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Looking for an “M” rated Castle fic with an author’s note about the quality of Castle’s shirts making it unrealistic for Beckett to rip them open as often as she does. It might have taken place in the Hamptons and could involve escaping from the rain and a quickie against the wall. Any thoughts?
@castlefanfics @castleficpromoter @castlefanficprompts @madaboutcastle1090
#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic#castle#caskett#richard castle#kate beckett#one day we’ll find a better way to keep track of fics#but today is not that day
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Are there any Castle fanfic writers out there willing to write a little Caskett short to this song, please and thank you!!
#castle and beckett#castleandbeckett#castle abc#caskett#abc castle#castle fanfic#castle fanfiction#Spotify
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'tis the damn season, chapter one
"He's close enough to Alexis, but far enough to give her space; close enough to L.A. for him to drive out for press and book meetings, but far enough for him to feel secluded from the spotlight. And best of all, it was a parallel line across the country from New York, from everything that haunts him there."
A Christmas season AU that takes place after the events of 3x24, Knockout.
fanfiction.net link
ao3 link
#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic#castle x beckett#castle au#kate becket#richard castle#castle#mine#this is so rushed!#but it's super fun to be writing castle and beckett christmassing again. :)
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https://www.tumblr.com/dontaddme/670303940979589120?source=share fic prompt
DEAR DIARY
Early Season 5
He doesn't mean to snoop.
Well, okay, he technically didn't snoop. Spilling coffee and accidentally finding what looks like a diary while he cleans it up isn't snooping. And if his eyes happened to read the words on the page, and if those words happen to make his heart skip a beat, well, that's a physical reaction. He can't help it.
She's always been private, keeping her most honest and vulnerable parts of herself close. And he knows that, respects it - most of the time - and over the years, he's learned just how far he can push before she shuts down.
So any glimpse he gets below that hard exterior is like gold. Any time she chooses to share something personal, like watching Temptation Lane with her mom, he soaks it up like a sponge.
What she hasn't shared about very much, though, is last summer. The time between her shooting and returning from her dad's cabin is almost a complete mystery to him. He hasn't earned that layer yet.
When he starts to read the words on the page, notices that the date is right in the middle of her time at her dad's cabin, he starts to close the book. It feels invasive; she'll tell him when she's ready.
But then he sees the ghost of the words on the other side of the page. The writer part of him winces - he hates when that happens - but the rest of him, the part that wants to know absolutely everything about this woman, wins out, and he turns the page.
The date on top is recent.
It's dated two days after she showed up at his door, soaking wet with an apology and love on her lips.
His breath catches in his throat as he reads.
To see you.
To feel you.
It calms me.
It cures me.
They've both shared their love for each other, but this...this seems more special. More intimate.
"Watcha doing?"
He looks up when Kate emerges from her bedroom, running a towel through her damp hair, and he closes the notebook and puts it back on the table. "Spilled coffee," he explains, lifting his almost-empty mug. "Just cleaning it up."
She nods, one brow arched in a way that tells him she knows, or at least suspects, that he isn't telling her everything. But she just closes the distance between them and takes his face in her hands, lifts her mouth to his for a slow, deep kiss. "I love you, you know," she whispers, nudging her nose against his.
He smiles. "I know."
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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.
Part I: leaving the crime scene.
Part II: the phone call.
Part III: a visit to the morgue.
Part IV: the lunch break.
Part V: lunch part II.
Part VI: the perfect cover.
Part VII: the storage closet.
Part VIII: case closed.
Part IX: finding their way.
Must you always be so... so stubborn, Katie?
Apparently, the answer to the question her parent's had frustratedly asked her on many occasions was a big, fat yes.
It's not that she hadn't tried to be a little softer, a little less headstrong. She had decided - the moment she arrived home, alone... again - that she could forgive and forget this whole mess. Because, like Lanie had said (and like she already knew) Castle had only done what he thought was the right thing.
He had explained how they had ended up in his Loft rather than the fancy restaurant he had made reservations at. He had explained the alarming phone call, the shattering glass. And he had explained that no matter what he said or did, Kristina had been on a mission to get exactly what she wanted.
If anything, he was the victim in all of this. Maybe, just maybe, it was her who owed him an apology.
Then, as if timed by fate itself, there was a knock at her door.
He came bearing a heartfelt apology, the intent to start and finish a true conversation about them (one they probably should have had before returning to work, but better late than never) and a promise. A promise that he understands, that is scared too, but that he truly believes they can find their way.
And just like that, she was ready to forgive.
She leant in, smile still bright on her face, and Castle dipped his head to brush his lips against hers. However, it seemed forgiving was going to be much easier than forgetting. The images she had spent the better half of the night fighting off flooded back to the forefront of her mind and she pulled back from the impending we're good now kiss.
"I'm sorry, I can't," she said as she shook her head slightly, hoping to erase the images like an etch-a-sketch. "It's too soon. I just keep seeing her boobs in your face."
She walked away, just a few steps to gain a little bit of distance, a little bit of perspective. She just wanted her mind to stop taunting her like this. She wanted the memories to be gone, for good.
And then came the softly spoken, heartbroken words that managed to do exactly that.
"Do y- do you want me to leave?"
She turned to face him, took in the pained look of regret that was etched so deep in the tired lines of his face and shook her head.
"No," she said definitively, closing the space between them. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired."
And confused, and angry, and a little hurt; but mostly just tired.
She reached up and delicately traced her thumb over his cheek.
"Stay with me?" she whispered the request. "Please."
He nodded, followed as she led him toward her bedroom. He removed his clothing, down to his boxers, as she pulled back the covers and climbed onto the bed. Kneeling, she moved over to his side and placed her hands on his hips. He joined her on the mattress, kneeling before her, and brushed the hair of her ponytail over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered and she nodded.
"Me too."
She leaned in, kissed him slowly. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting - the taste of betrayal, perhaps - but his lips, his tongue; it just tasted like him. Sweet, loyal, hopelessly in love Castle. And her reservations melted away.
Castle pressed his forehead to hers but cupped her face to keep her close; he didn't want to lose this connection, but he also didn't want her to feel rushed.
"We don't have to," he assured her.
But she shook her head. "I want to."
Still, he hesitated. She knew that was her fault: she had let her emotions lead her actions too much over these past few days. These past few weeks, actually. And now he was being overly cautious, taking on the role that she would usually fill. Because that was how they worked: serious and unserious, head in the clouds and feet firmly on the ground, a hopeless romantic and a logical thinker. They levelled each other other, brought one another to this ideal middle ground that just seemed to work so perfectly for them.
But this? This role reversal they had slipped into, it wasn't them It wasn't right.
"I'm okay, Castle." She assured him with a kiss. "We're okay."
And she was determined for her words to become truth.
She kissed him again, with more urgency than before, and he gave into his desires.
His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, relished in the feel of her body pressed flush against his.
"I want you," he panted as he moved his attention to peppering kisses along her jawline and down her neck. His hands wandered down her body to her thighs, then glided back up the bared skin and underneath her sleep shirt. "Only you."
"Show me," she whispered. They broke apart, looked into one another's eyes for just a few short seconds before she smiled and repeated her request. "Show me how much you want me."
He did exactly that. He poured all the love he had for her into a long, slow, reverent kiss as he lay her back on her bed. He touched her with gentle hands, like she were a priceless artifact to be handled with the utmost care. Kissed her in a way that soothed the hurt and confusion they had both felt in this tumultuous transition into life outside of their little love bubble. Their love-making was a promise that tomorrow was a new day - undoubtedly with new challenges to face - but no matter what may have come their way, they could figure this out together... they could find their way.
And, in a way that only they could, they righted all their wrongs.
#my drabbles#kate beckett#richard castle#caskett#castle#kate beckett x richard castle#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic
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4 from December prompts ❤️
Castlemas '23 #16: Mine
Season Five
He meets her at the address she text him this morning, a new case that had woke and called her away from the warmth of her apartment and he'd agreed to meet her there instead of her coming across town to get him.
He's greeted by LT, gets directions to the apartment on the 4th floor and wonders what awaits him.
"Hey Castle," Ryan greets as he walks through the door. He watches his friend pull the notebook from his pocket, jotting down some ideas. "Beckett's talking to the witness. Want me to catch you up?"
He gets the rundown, peers around the apartment, watches Lanie making notes beside their victim, sees Esposito looking through papers on a desk in the corner. And then Kate walks out of the room he assumes is the bathroom, watches her give orders to the officers on scene, make arrangements to meet with Lanie. But the sight of his scarf, the scarf he'd searched for on the way out to meet her, that stops him in his tracks, puts a smile on his face despite the situation around him.
"Hey Castle," she smiles gently at him. "Want to do a sweep or do you want me to catch you up on the way back to the 12th?"
He gestures on for her to show her the crime scene, hears what she got out of the unfortunate roommate, listens to Lanie's input. All the while she's wearing his scarf. He wonders if anyone has noticed. Should he feel such pride in her stealing his things?
"So," he begins once they're in the lift on the way down to her car.
"So?" She asks. She smirks at him, has wondered how long it would take him to comment.
"That's my scarf."
"No," she looks down at it, her fingers playing with the ends. "I think it's mine. Now."
Prompt: scarf
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what do you think would have happened if castle had gotten stuck in the AU?
Hi Anon! I hope you're still out there and that this was meant as a prompt (not that I'm not ashamed of how long it took to answer it if it was) and not just a question/discussion starter. Basically, I kind of wrote what I think the answer would be, so I hope you like this!
Hope Yet
He's ashamed of the disappointment that floods his belly when he wakes in a hospital to a dark-haired version of his daughter. It's not that he's unhappy to see Alexis – any version of her – but he'd hoped that he might wake right where he left, on a dingy floor dodging gunfire with Kate a little bit peeved at him for touching something he shouldn't have. Instead, he's… still here. Still in this world where he has miles to go to repair a relationship with his little girl, his mother still has almost complete control over his house because he'd been a schmuck with his money, and Kate – Kate is apathetic about him at best; miles and miles from loving him.
He'd been so sure he would be going home.
"Hi Daddy," Alexis breathes, stroking his hair off his forehead. "I was so worried."
Rick Castle hopes the grimace can be written off as pain from his injuries. "Hi, 'lexis. Sorry, 'bout that."
He licks his lips, looking around the room for anything that he might be able to drink to get the rough cardboard taste out of his mouth.
Alexis comes through for him once again, holding a small cup with a straw to his lips. "Slow sips. You were intubated and your throat might be sore."
He tries not to gulp it down, savoring the water for a moment before Alexis takes the cup away.
"Do you remember what happened?" she asks, leaning on her elbow beside him. He opens his mouth, but she continues first, "Dad, you were shot. What were you even doing that you would get shot?"
He exhales, feeling the tug of new wounds on his chest. "I was-"
"He was protecting me."
Alexis jolts upright, turning to the door.
Rick would be lying if he said he didn't jump a little as well. If his heart didn't speed up at her voice, husky with emotion and a lack of sleep. He doesn't know this her, but he knows her. At the heart of her, he knows Kate Beckett.
"Would do it all over again," he says, hoping to catch her eyes.
She avoids his gaze, looking at Alexis instead, but he sees her fingers twitch before she clenches her fists and releases them. He knows that move, recognizes it as her taking a moment to ground herself before she gives someone bad news.
"I am so sorry, Ms. Castle. I'm Captain Beckett, with the NYPD. Your father got involved in a case my detectives were working and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He made a call to do something incredibly stupid, but very brave, to save my life."
She turns to him, her eyes bloodshot and tired, but flinty and determined all the same. "I can assure you that he won't be put in that position again. Ever."
Castle swallows hard, wishing he could reach for her as well as the water Alexis had given him a few minutes ago. He gets neither, though, because Beckett takes a step back.
"I'm not staying," Beckett adds, licking her lips. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Mr. Castle."
"Rick," he rasps. "Or Castle, if you want. Whatever you want, Beckett."
At his bedside, Alexis rolls her eyes. "Please forgive him, Captain Beckett. He's-"
Kate waves her off. "It's okay. I understand. The painkillers do strange things to everyone."
Still, she offers him a look he should be able to read, given how well he knows her counterpart. It's part-quizzical, part-amused, at least enough to cause her lips to lift at the corners.
"Stay out of trouble from here on out, Mr. Castle. Please?"
He nods quickly, even as he croaks an impish, "No promises."
Beside him, Alexis rolls her eyes. "I'll keep him in line, Captain. Don't worry."
This time, Beckett does crack a small smile. "I'm sure you will, Ms. Castle. I'm sure you will." She licks her lips, lowering her chin. "I'll leave you to rest."
Rick starts to call her back, to insist she doesn't have to leave and she's as welcome as his child and his mother (who, he supposes must be at work at this point, after all, her show opens in – well, probably now, if he's been out that long), but he can't make the words come. This Kate Beckett doesn't know him, and as much as he wants to believe otherwise, he doesn't know her either. He can't expect her to feel at home with him and his family the way the woman he loves does.
"Thank you for visiting," he says instead. "I'm glad you're okay; that was… that was all I wanted to do."
She hesitates for a moment before dropping her hand to cover his. "I know, Castle. Thank you."
Her touch disappears a moment later and she retreats from his hospital room, leaving him to begin to accept that this might just be the rest of his life.
Just two days later, while Alexis is at home retrieving some of his clothing for him to change into when he's allowed to get cleaned up, she returns with a case file in hand and an annoyed, but somehow fond, look on her face.
"If you're feeling up to it," she starts, licking her lips and shifting her weight on those impossibly high heels of hers, "I wouldn't mind having another pair of eyes to check this out; you and my victim apparently run in the same circles."
Rick Castle moves his hospital bed a little more upright, clasping his hands together and grinning. He tries not to look too eager, of course, since he doesn't want to scare her off when she's coming to him – when she needs, nay wants, his help, but he's all in already.
"I'd be delighted, Captain. Lay it on me."
Beckett hesitates for just a moment before crossing the room and holding out the file to him, perching on his bed at his hip and waiting for him to speed read (less speedy than usual thanks to the meds, but he manages) the casefile and offer his thoughts.
It looks like there's hope yet.
#caskett fanfic#castle fanfiction#castle fanfic#caskett#7x06 AU Fic#Castle AU Fic#AU in an AU#My Fanfic#Season 7 Fic
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