fic: dancing underwater (castle/beckett)
Title: Dancing Underwater
Fandom: Castle
Rating: R
Pairing/Character: Castle/Beckett
Spoilers: All episodes through the season 4 finale.
Summary: She haunts him in his dreams.
Notes: Super short and kind of abstract thing I wrote yesterday. There was going to be more but I decided to leave it here.
01.
She haunts him in his dreams. She’s a seraph dressed in black who leaves him hungry and wanting, breathlessly confused, terrified.
He plays her shooting over and over in his conscious mind; how it could have been different, what he could have done, how he should have protected her. But when he makes his nightly descent into the depths of sleep, it only gets worse.
Most of the time, she’s dead. But sometimes, she’s crying in his arms, shaking, as he watches her suffer, unable to save her. He wakes up sweaty and gasping, in his empty bed, clutching for her.
But what kills him is the love. She almost died. He held her, willing her body not to crack, pleading with God to let him keep her. He whispered secrets of need and devotion as he watched desperate tears fall from her eyes. It’s been months. She hasn’t even fucking called. And all he can do is love her more.
02.
In the early mornings, he dreams of making love to her, slow and sweet. Nothing like in the desperate fantasies that plague his mind when he touches himself, eyes closed, fingers fast and warm. He dreams that she’s there with him, curled up at his side, breathing softly. They wake together, slowly, smiles illuminated in the dim light. She kisses him tenderly, fingers floating lightly over his biceps. He touches her hair, feels the weight of her breasts. And then he’s inside of her, moving gently, reverently, fingers circling her clit as she breathes his name. They come together, holding each other, lips joined, never willing to part.
And then he wakes, hating himself for indulging once again in this familiar fantasy.
She lied. And maybe she did it for his sake but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He’s been stupid, so stupid, for believing she could have loved him back, that they ever had a chance. And now with these things between them, it’s even worse. He doesn’t even know if he can be around her anymore. It breaks him too much.
03.
When it finally happens, he remains suspended in disbelief. She kisses him with a fervor that matches the fire that’s been raging inside of him for years and he just doesn’t understand how it’s really happening.
So he pins her against his door, unwilling to let her escape, change her mind. And he’s back to desperate again, needing her now, feeling her own need radiating from her shaking body where it’s pressed into his.
And when he makes her come for the first time her moans create a breathy symphony that threatens to seep into the crevices of his heart, making every last particle of his body sing with his love for her.
When he comes with her name on his lips and her body pressed under his, he thinks he may have found heaven.
Fandom: Castle
Rating: R
Pairing/Character: Castle/Beckett
Spoilers: All episodes through the season 4 finale.
Summary: She haunts him in his dreams.
Notes: Super short and kind of abstract thing I wrote yesterday. There was going to be more but I decided to leave it here.
01.
She haunts him in his dreams. She’s a seraph dressed in black who leaves him hungry and wanting, breathlessly confused, terrified.
He plays her shooting over and over in his conscious mind; how it could have been different, what he could have done, how he should have protected her. But when he makes his nightly descent into the depths of sleep, it only gets worse.
Most of the time, she’s dead. But sometimes, she’s crying in his arms, shaking, as he watches her suffer, unable to save her. He wakes up sweaty and gasping, in his empty bed, clutching for her.
But what kills him is the love. She almost died. He held her, willing her body not to crack, pleading with God to let him keep her. He whispered secrets of need and devotion as he watched desperate tears fall from her eyes. It’s been months. She hasn’t even fucking called. And all he can do is love her more.
02.
In the early mornings, he dreams of making love to her, slow and sweet. Nothing like in the desperate fantasies that plague his mind when he touches himself, eyes closed, fingers fast and warm. He dreams that she’s there with him, curled up at his side, breathing softly. They wake together, slowly, smiles illuminated in the dim light. She kisses him tenderly, fingers floating lightly over his biceps. He touches her hair, feels the weight of her breasts. And then he’s inside of her, moving gently, reverently, fingers circling her clit as she breathes his name. They come together, holding each other, lips joined, never willing to part.
And then he wakes, hating himself for indulging once again in this familiar fantasy.
She lied. And maybe she did it for his sake but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He’s been stupid, so stupid, for believing she could have loved him back, that they ever had a chance. And now with these things between them, it’s even worse. He doesn’t even know if he can be around her anymore. It breaks him too much.
03.
When it finally happens, he remains suspended in disbelief. She kisses him with a fervor that matches the fire that’s been raging inside of him for years and he just doesn’t understand how it’s really happening.
So he pins her against his door, unwilling to let her escape, change her mind. And he’s back to desperate again, needing her now, feeling her own need radiating from her shaking body where it’s pressed into his.
And when he makes her come for the first time her moans create a breathy symphony that threatens to seep into the crevices of his heart, making every last particle of his body sing with his love for her.
When he comes with her name on his lips and her body pressed under his, he thinks he may have found heaven.