#castle drabble

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

watching Castle always cracks me up, because every other character is always going on and on about how hot and sexy Rick Castle is, on that show... and I'm just sat in the corner like: RYaN tho😍😍😍

[coffeecup218]

Turkey Delight

Found the picture on Pinterest. Here’s also a link to the original photographer’s (Jill Erwich) website.

Set post season 8.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends!

Thanksgiving at the Ryan’s is a joyful affair, the scent of the turkey slowly cooking in the oven making Kate’s mouth water. Jenny is in the kitchen, finalizing the last details of the meal with Castle’s help.

Kate watches him from the living room as her husband fling a dishtowel over his shoulder, doesn’t miss the wince that quickly passes over his face at the gesture. She’s about to join him to softly caress the shell of his ear as she berates him for being so careless, but he meets her concerned gaze with a reassuring one, mouths something that resembles the word fine.

He’s not. She knows it, knows all too well how the hole in his chest still leaves him breathless most days. But he’s stubborn, maybe more so than herself and he’s terrible at taking it easy. And if she’s completely honest, so is she.

One bullet in his chest later, two more bullets in her already bruised body later and they are still alive. It’s all that matters.

She lets it go, leaves him to his cooking and turns to watch Ryan play with Sarah Grace and little Nicholas Javier. The baby is on his father’s chest, cooing as his older sister peppers him with kisses. The scene is heartwarming, brings a smile to Kate’s lips, along with the familiar pang of longing she’s been feeling lately. Soon. Not yet, but soon, when they don’t wake up screaming in the dark, sweat pooling low on their back and chest heaving from the mere effort of it.

She hears Jenny’s voice from across the room calling for her husband and Ryan stands up, looking apologetic as he hands her the little Nicholas. Kate takes him awkwardly, cautious as the baby’s nose scrunches up, prepared to wail from the loss of contact with his father.

“Oh, Nicky. Giving trouble to your auntie Kate?”

The baby’s blue eyes widen at the booming voice of her husband and find the source of it, a toothless grin appearing. Castle takes the boy from her, sits down with a groan.

“Careful, babe,” she warns him.

“I know. It’s just my knee, I promise.” He slips his fingers in between hers, gently rubs the back of her hand. “Oh, hey, this reminds me!”

From his back pocket, he produced a brown thing that he slides onto Nicholas’ head. He lifts the baby to show her and she can’t suppress the chuckle at the sight.

“A turkey beanie, Castle?”

“Wouldn’t you say he’s cute enough to eat?”

Castle waits for it and she gives it more than willingly to her goof of a husband, the practiced eye-roll she sends him at least once a day softened by the kiss she plants on his cheeks.

“Come on, babe. Let’s go show it to Ryan. He’ll be a better audience for your terrible jokes.”

[coffeecup218]

Third Time’s a Charm

For Castle and Beckett’s third aniversary. May they continue to be amazing. (Original post of the picture )

Their third anniversary is the best by far. 

They both ache at the memory of the first, the time spent apart an angry scar in their hearts. Castle knows his wife still carries it with her, that deep-seated blame she places on herself, a sentiment of culpability so profound the two years passed since then have done little to appease. Sometimes, when the silence engulfs them, the writer sees it in Kate’s eyes, the poignant grief, and he cups her jaw until she finally settles her cheek on his palms and he kisses her until the world starts and ends with their lips fused together and the breath they share. Until they both feel a little less raw.

The second is a blur of pain, of never-ending physical therapy that leaves them both in shambles, literally and metaphorically. It’s a bad day for both of them, the ghost of her first bullet wound pulling painfully, her fresher ones burning through her entire blood, setting her veins, heart and lungs on fire. He can’t help her. He feels like he’s burning too.

It’s their third anniversary, and if the first two were hell, then they’ve reached heaven. The month of November is colder than usual in New York, the grey skies and humid atmosphere a heavy weight upon the city. Their bodies protest, still battered and weathered down from the year before and the light drizzle of rain bothersome enough for him to open his umbrella over them. His foot catches an uneven spot in the concrete as he tries to settle into the awkward positioning and he stumbles, groans a little at the stab of pain coming from his knee and his chest. He feels old. 

Kate puts a hand behind his back, squeezes his shoulder in silent concern. He meets her soft gaze, reassures her that he’s doing good. She smiles, lifts unto the top of her toes to meet his mouth in a slow kiss, sweet and undemanding, yet holding a hint of unadulterated passion, a promise for later.

Oh yeah. Their third anniversary is perfect.

[coffeecup218]

Original source of the picture is unknown, but here’s the link to it on pinterest. I mean no harm in borrowing it for some spooky fun. 

Au Naturel

Shit.

She’s late.

She checks her watch for the umpteenth time, the seconds ticking at an increasing pace, mocking her. She huffs, blows back the hair that has fallen unto her face as the gas slowly fills her car. After what seems like an eternity, the machine’s hum quiets and she pulls out the pump, the unmistakable smell of petroleum permeating the air.

Her nose scrunches in apparent distaste as she strides towards the gas station. The line to pay isn’t long, thank god, but the old woman in front of her starts asking questions after questions about the lottery and the upcoming pot, and she groans in annoyance, can’t help the sighs that escape from her. She’s supposed to be in the Hamptons already, but the open-and-shut case she had anticipated had taken longer to process than expected and the texts her husband had been sending her throughout the day had made the longing unbearable.

She just wants to be with her family.

As the elderly lady finally, finally, hands the cashier money for the ticket, Kate’s cellphone vibrates in her coat pocket, startling her. Castle’s name flashes on her lock screen, the caption beneath it a simple wink face emoji. She presses, awaits eagerly as her home button recognizes her fingerprint. The photo that pulls up isn’t what she expected far from it, but the pounding headache that had been plaguing her all day disappears as she chuckles.

Her thumb hovers over the boys’, her boys, picture, in matching Halloween themed headband and birthday suit. Her teeth find her lower lip, a vain attempt at containing her smile.

I don’t think Au Naturel is an appropriate costume for 11 months old, babe, she types out and sends.

The reply is almost immediate. I seem to recall that you had no problem with it last night.

Her tongue peeks out of her mouth as she answers back. We’ll see about that later tonight ;)

She’s not late. She’s, in fact, just in time.

Not really an entry for the Castle Halloween Bash 2017, but just a little something for the scariest night of the year.

[thebeautyofourwords-blog]

Prompt: Castle has nightmares after his ordeal and Kate comforts him by cuddling up w/ him on the couch and watching a movie(or something sweet like that) :)

He woke up with a scream stuck in his throat, sweat running down his face and clinging his soaked sleep shirt to his chest.

He ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes in a desperate attempt to erase the gruesome pictures that had haunted him, but as soon as he shut his eyes they hit him with full force, making his heart clench in his chest and his breath quicken.

Just before he could go into a full panic attack gentle and warm hands stroked over his back and managed to calm him down a bit, at least so much that he could take real breaths again.

Rick turned around and met Kate's eyes. In the dim street light that came through one of the windows her eyes were a dark full green and he took comfort in the sensation of getting lost in the forest of her orbs.

She wound her arms around him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. "It's okay, it's over..." She had probably spoken the same words every night for over two weeks, but as much as he tried, he could never hear any annoyance in her tone. She meant every word and the way she softly brushed her lips over the wrinkles of his frown made him tear up.

"I know" Rick sighed and took one of her hands in his, stroking his thumb over her palm.

They sat there for a while both taking comfort in the proximity to the other.

Kate tried to hide it as best as she could, because she was trying to be strong for him, but the nights she had spent crying her heart out were impossible forget and the anxiety that had been her constant emotion was still there hiding in the back of her head somewhere, ready to come out and take a hold of her again.

It felt so incredibly good to have him in her arms, to feel his warm skin beneath her fingertips and the thrum of his pulse against the sensitive flesh of her lips.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep." He said and she felt his voice vibrate against her cheek."I think I'll just watch some TV, you can go back to sleep, I'll be fine."

She saw right through his smile and got out from under the covers. "I'm not that tired I think I'll join you."

The look of gratidude he gave her let her know that she had done the right thing.

Kate walked behind her still-fiancé and watched as he flopped down onto the couch. "I'll be right with you I just want to get something to drink. You want anything?" She asked. He just shook his head and she made her way over to the kitchen getting out the supplies she needed for hot chocolate.

My secret is double chocolate, double marshmallow, I make it for Dad when he's had a particularly tough day.

She recalled Alexis's words. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had first tasted the girl's delicious cheer-up-hot-chocolate.

Crazy what could happen in four years. She regarded Castle with a soft smile. She loved him so much, more than she felt he could ever understand.

The quiet 'ding' of the microwave starteld her a bit. Kate turned around to get the two mugs and carefully made her way to the couch.

"I know you said you didn't want anything..." She explained while cuddling into his side, the steaming cups of hot chocolate momentarily sitting on the coffee table "... but I figured this would maybe make you feel better?"

She raised her hand to play with his hair and smiled at him as he turned to face her.

He answered with a smile of his own and the fact that it was 100 % genuine made her lean in real quick and give him a peck on the cheek.

"What was that for?" he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

"I love you." She simply said.

"Well then here's to love." He whispered a bit hoarsely, picking up the two cups, handing her one of them and clinking them together.

"I'll drink to that." She answered and leaned into his side after taking a sip.

[tvfilmjunkie1984]

January 9th-A Castle & Beckett Drabble

Ok bear with me as I have never done this before but this just came to me and after typing it up figured what the heck i'll post it so here it is tell me what you think:

   He rolled over in bed, his right hand reaching out for her but instead it only finds emptiness.  Opening his eyes he finds that the space next to him is indeed empty, rubbing his hand across the sheets he finds them ice cold meaning she had apparently  gotten up hours ago.  Crawling out of bed he makes his way out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen expecting to find her making coffee or breaksfast but instead finds it empty looking around his eyes catch sight of her standing in the living room in front of the window looking out obviously lost in thought.   Its a gloomy morning in New York as gray clouds hang over the city, rain cascades down the window.  He moves in behind her but she doesn't stir just keeps her gaze on the world outisde.

   "Its been 13 years today, but it still feels like it was just yesterday." She says suddenly, voice barely above a whisper. It wasn't until she said that that he realized what today was-January 9th, his heart aches for her, wishes that he could take away her pain.  Instead he gently places a hand on her shoulder letting her know that he is there for her.  Feeling his touch she turns and buries her face in his chest as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly in a warm embrace.  They stay this way for what seems like forever neither one says anything, the only sound emanating from the loft are her muffled sobs as he continues to hold her tightly.

[finefrenzy-]

CASTLE HIATUS FIC PROJECT by Irene and Ning Castle as cop; Kate as writer | Requested by anonymous  --  It was nearing midnight when Detective Castle decided it was time to take a break from his paperwork. After all, shouldn’t he enjoy the special coffee machine he had just bought for the precinct after they captured a serial killer?

Entering the break room, he noticed a strange dim light emanating from under the door of the records room. Alert even without his caffeine fix, Castle felt for his holster, silently drawing his gun. This better not be Ryan and Esposito playing a belated April Fools’ joke on me, he mused, as he reached the records room and placed his ear against the door. He heard breathing. This perp is cornered, Castle thought, as he kicked the door open.

“Put your hands up!” He pointed his gun at the records room thief. It was a tall woman with long brown locks of hair. The file she had been poring over and the torch she used fell to the ground as she raised her hands in compliance, the wild panic in her sharp intake of breath unmistakable. Gun still firmly trained on her, Castle picked the torch up to shine in her face.

She squinted and ducked her head, but he recognised Kate Beckett, his favourite mystery novelist. (She was excellent with the details of death.)

The words spilled out of him before he could hold on to them, “You’re Kate Beckett.”

Her eyes widened. (They were olive.) “Yes,” she said slowly, “Can I put my hands down now?” Her gaze shifted almost imperceptibly to the file on the floor.

Castle gripped his gun harder, unsure what to make of the girl with the piercing gaze and wondering why his chest felt like it was going to burst its seams. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Beckett spoke quickly, “Yes, I know, but please, something’s not right. That file is my mother’s—she was murdered and the police attributed it to random gang violence—but something doesn’t add up.” He stole a glance at the file in question and saw the name Johanna Beckett. It was a cold case; he recognised it.

Slowly, he lowered his gun, and Beckett seemed to breathe again. “Please, detective. You can help me. You’re a homicide detective, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m Detective Castle.”

They stood staring at each other for a moment, curious eyes meeting clouded ones, before Castle gestured toward the open door. “Want a coffee?”