geonncannon
in
mmom
DAY 3: "Heat Stroke," Kate Beckett, Richard Castle
Title: Heat Stroke
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Castle
Self-Lover: Kate Beckett, Richard Castle
Spoilers: Basic series stuff.
Words: 1,564
Date: May 3
Warnings: Rough/non-consensual sex fantasy
The poll to suggest future pairings/stories
Summary: Kate realizes how she can use Castle's writing to her advantage.
When Kate was in bed, the fantasies flooded her mind. They took over her consciousness and transported her to a place where she could do anything without consequence. They always fell apart in the day, crumbling like vampires when exposed to sunlight, but she wanted a way to capture them and really enjoy them. She was in bed, curled with her knees by her chest and her hand between her legs when she started thinking about Nikki Heat, and a thought occurred to her.
Nikki Heat could do anything she wanted without consequence. And she had an in with the creator. She could make him make Nikki do whatever she wanted.
Kate straightened under the blankets, one hand still cupped over her mound with just her oversized T-shirt under her palm. She picked up her cell phone and, after an internal debate, dialed a number she knew by heart.
"Beckett! Working late tonight?"
"No. Are you?" She was irritated to feel her cheeks rise in a smirk. How could he always make her smile?
"There are only so many hours a day when a man is able to find peace and quiet to write. But I'm more than happy to do some more research if you have a dead body." He sounded almost eager. It should have been morbid, alarming, but she knew that his joy rested in seeing her work and in catching the bad guy. He loved the mystery so much that sometimes she thought he didn't realize they were dealing with a real recently-living person. She was glad for that. Sometimes she thought if he focused on the reality it would break his oversized heart.
"No. I'm at home."
"Beckett." He drew out both syllables. "Calling to dish? Are Esposito and Lainie doing anything gossip worthy?"
"Castle! Are you at your computer?"
"Yep."
"I want you to open a blank Document." Her fingers were moving in slow circles. She wondered if he could hear the difference in her voice. "I want you to title it... title it, uh... Heat Stroke." She rolled her eyes, but she heard him chuckle. Then he typed. She heard a few rapid keystrokes. "Got it?"
"Yep. Indented, ready to go. What's this one going to be about?"
"It's going to be a short one, Castle. Just a few hundred words." She licked her lips and bent her legs, placing her feet apart on the mattress. She pulled her T-shirt up and looked down at herself. Writing was a safe place, a refuge. Nikki was a fictional character. Fantasy was a game, and if everyone involved was willing and mature, then there was no harm in it. "Nikki is forced."
"Forced?" Castle sounded serious now. "Beckett..."
"Listen to me." Her tone cut him off and she closed her eyes. "It's a game. Someone she trusts. She just wants to lose control, but she's not... strong enough... to give up her power. Not even for a game. So he f-forces her. He takes her to the bed... no, the couch. He takes her to the couch and he pulls her clothes off." She was shaking now. "She's fighting him. But not as hard as she could be. Their safe word is--"
"Apples?"
Kate can't help but laugh, and it lessens the tension, makes it easier. "Yeah. She knows that if she says apples, he'll stop. But she can't bring herself to say it. So write that?"
"I... what, now?"
"Yes, Castle. And I want you to read it to me as you write it." She was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, waiting. For him to tell her this was a bad idea or to suggest they just forget this call ever happened. It was late and they could ignore it as a drunk dial or a--
"They were in her apartment." Kate's mouth went dry as Castle began to speak in her eat. She could hear the keyboard clicking. His voice was low and she knew he was trying to be discreet. "It was a place where she felt safe, and that was important with what he was planning. They had wine, they had acted like they didn't have a care in the world. Which was true, at least for that night. They didn't have to worry about any dead bodies or department politics. They could just be with each other.
"She didn't push him away when he started kissing her. But when he pressed on, when he used his weight to pin her against the back of the couch, she started to protest a bit. She pushed at his shoulders and said his name. She wanted to blame the wine and erase the last few seconds from memory, but he wasn't willing to do that."
Kate had her eyes closed, imagining the scene. It was her and Castle in the image, not Natalie Rhodes or whoever was cast as Jameson Rook. It was her apartment. It was Castle's hands pulling at her blouse, and her lips saying, "Maybe we should just call it a night..." She kept stroking between her legs. It wasn't about force or a rape fantasy, not really. It was about being vulnerable with someone else. She rarely did that even in her private life. She liked being on top, and she liked being the one who dictated where the relationship was going. She had to be in control.
"He pushed her down onto the couch, stretching on top of her to pin her with his body weight. He kissed her neck, freeing her lips so she could utter that all-important word if necessary. He took her hand and guided it down to the waistband of his pants. His fingers wrapped around hers, forcing her to feel his arousal through his trousers."
Kate was helpless to let loose a gasp.
"Beckett? Are you...?"
"Aren't you?" she groaned.
"I-I'm... I'm typing!"
"Then stop!" She moaned. "Just tell me the story, Rick..."
The typing stopped. There was a pause. And then...
"She was still struggling. Not hard, but enough to keep up the fantasy that she wasn't doing this willingly. He settled between the legs and he got her jeans open. She used her struggling to help him pull the pants down, and he pressed his hand flat against the crotch of her... panties." Kate mimicked the move and closed her thighs around her hand. Castle's voice sounded strained as well and she pictured him sitting at the desk in his writing room, leaning back in his chair, cock rising from the fly of his trousers.
She was sure he could hear her panting now. She could hear each exhale from him and pictured his nostrils flaring as he stroked. She wondered if this was what he had done when writing the first Nikki Heat sex scene. Working through the real life sexual tension between them with fiction. She wondered why it had taken her so long to think of the same thing.
"He managed to get his... pants undone and he moved carefully--"
"The words, Castle." She swallowed, turning her head to brush her sweaty cheek against the pillow. "Say the words. This isn't going to be published, this is just for me, so... s-so say it."
"His cock." His voice was almost a growl now. Kate whimpered. "He removed his cock, settling between her legs. She was wet as he pressed the tip of his cock against the lips of her pussy. With one quick, sure motion, he was inside of her." Kate used two fingers on herself, using the heel of her hand and her thumb.
Castle was silent except for his rough breathing. Kate raised her shoulder, pinning the phone against her ear as she reached down with her free hand to stroke her clit as she twisted two fingers inside of herself.
"Don't stop, Castle..."
"Can't..."
"Please... Rick..."
"He fucked her. She clung to him. And he... thrust into... her... God, Kate..."
"Tell me if you--"
"I'm coming." It was a grunt, and she imagined him hunched over his desk. Maybe the tip of his cock was wrapped in the tail of his shirt, and she imagined the dark stain spreading across the expensive material. She pressed her butt into the mattress, folding in on herself as she moaned and cried out her own climax.
When she could move again, she held the phone to her ear again. She heard Castle's steady post-orgasm breathing on the other end and decided it was only fair that he get to listen to hers. They sat in silence, neither one of them risking speech. She wiped her hand on the sheet, tugged her T-shirt back down to decent length, and brushed her hair out of her face.
Finally, she cleared her throat. "Goodnight, Castle."
"Night, Beckett." His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it, and she wondered what she would do to hear that sort of tone again. "Call me any time you need some more bedtime reading."
She smiled. "Count on it. Night."
She hung up and put the phone on her nightstand.
#
A few days later, a courier delivered a package to her apartment. She opened it to find a neatly-bound, extremely thin manuscript. The cover page made her laugh as she carried it to the bath with her.
HEAT STROKE
by
Richard Castle
and
Katherine Beckett
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Castle
Self-Lover: Kate Beckett, Richard Castle
Spoilers: Basic series stuff.
Words: 1,564
Date: May 3
Warnings: Rough/non-consensual sex fantasy
The poll to suggest future pairings/stories
Summary: Kate realizes how she can use Castle's writing to her advantage.
When Kate was in bed, the fantasies flooded her mind. They took over her consciousness and transported her to a place where she could do anything without consequence. They always fell apart in the day, crumbling like vampires when exposed to sunlight, but she wanted a way to capture them and really enjoy them. She was in bed, curled with her knees by her chest and her hand between her legs when she started thinking about Nikki Heat, and a thought occurred to her.
Nikki Heat could do anything she wanted without consequence. And she had an in with the creator. She could make him make Nikki do whatever she wanted.
Kate straightened under the blankets, one hand still cupped over her mound with just her oversized T-shirt under her palm. She picked up her cell phone and, after an internal debate, dialed a number she knew by heart.
"Beckett! Working late tonight?"
"No. Are you?" She was irritated to feel her cheeks rise in a smirk. How could he always make her smile?
"There are only so many hours a day when a man is able to find peace and quiet to write. But I'm more than happy to do some more research if you have a dead body." He sounded almost eager. It should have been morbid, alarming, but she knew that his joy rested in seeing her work and in catching the bad guy. He loved the mystery so much that sometimes she thought he didn't realize they were dealing with a real recently-living person. She was glad for that. Sometimes she thought if he focused on the reality it would break his oversized heart.
"No. I'm at home."
"Beckett." He drew out both syllables. "Calling to dish? Are Esposito and Lainie doing anything gossip worthy?"
"Castle! Are you at your computer?"
"Yep."
"I want you to open a blank Document." Her fingers were moving in slow circles. She wondered if he could hear the difference in her voice. "I want you to title it... title it, uh... Heat Stroke." She rolled her eyes, but she heard him chuckle. Then he typed. She heard a few rapid keystrokes. "Got it?"
"Yep. Indented, ready to go. What's this one going to be about?"
"It's going to be a short one, Castle. Just a few hundred words." She licked her lips and bent her legs, placing her feet apart on the mattress. She pulled her T-shirt up and looked down at herself. Writing was a safe place, a refuge. Nikki was a fictional character. Fantasy was a game, and if everyone involved was willing and mature, then there was no harm in it. "Nikki is forced."
"Forced?" Castle sounded serious now. "Beckett..."
"Listen to me." Her tone cut him off and she closed her eyes. "It's a game. Someone she trusts. She just wants to lose control, but she's not... strong enough... to give up her power. Not even for a game. So he f-forces her. He takes her to the bed... no, the couch. He takes her to the couch and he pulls her clothes off." She was shaking now. "She's fighting him. But not as hard as she could be. Their safe word is--"
"Apples?"
Kate can't help but laugh, and it lessens the tension, makes it easier. "Yeah. She knows that if she says apples, he'll stop. But she can't bring herself to say it. So write that?"
"I... what, now?"
"Yes, Castle. And I want you to read it to me as you write it." She was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, waiting. For him to tell her this was a bad idea or to suggest they just forget this call ever happened. It was late and they could ignore it as a drunk dial or a--
"They were in her apartment." Kate's mouth went dry as Castle began to speak in her eat. She could hear the keyboard clicking. His voice was low and she knew he was trying to be discreet. "It was a place where she felt safe, and that was important with what he was planning. They had wine, they had acted like they didn't have a care in the world. Which was true, at least for that night. They didn't have to worry about any dead bodies or department politics. They could just be with each other.
"She didn't push him away when he started kissing her. But when he pressed on, when he used his weight to pin her against the back of the couch, she started to protest a bit. She pushed at his shoulders and said his name. She wanted to blame the wine and erase the last few seconds from memory, but he wasn't willing to do that."
Kate had her eyes closed, imagining the scene. It was her and Castle in the image, not Natalie Rhodes or whoever was cast as Jameson Rook. It was her apartment. It was Castle's hands pulling at her blouse, and her lips saying, "Maybe we should just call it a night..." She kept stroking between her legs. It wasn't about force or a rape fantasy, not really. It was about being vulnerable with someone else. She rarely did that even in her private life. She liked being on top, and she liked being the one who dictated where the relationship was going. She had to be in control.
"He pushed her down onto the couch, stretching on top of her to pin her with his body weight. He kissed her neck, freeing her lips so she could utter that all-important word if necessary. He took her hand and guided it down to the waistband of his pants. His fingers wrapped around hers, forcing her to feel his arousal through his trousers."
Kate was helpless to let loose a gasp.
"Beckett? Are you...?"
"Aren't you?" she groaned.
"I-I'm... I'm typing!"
"Then stop!" She moaned. "Just tell me the story, Rick..."
The typing stopped. There was a pause. And then...
"She was still struggling. Not hard, but enough to keep up the fantasy that she wasn't doing this willingly. He settled between the legs and he got her jeans open. She used her struggling to help him pull the pants down, and he pressed his hand flat against the crotch of her... panties." Kate mimicked the move and closed her thighs around her hand. Castle's voice sounded strained as well and she pictured him sitting at the desk in his writing room, leaning back in his chair, cock rising from the fly of his trousers.
She was sure he could hear her panting now. She could hear each exhale from him and pictured his nostrils flaring as he stroked. She wondered if this was what he had done when writing the first Nikki Heat sex scene. Working through the real life sexual tension between them with fiction. She wondered why it had taken her so long to think of the same thing.
"He managed to get his... pants undone and he moved carefully--"
"The words, Castle." She swallowed, turning her head to brush her sweaty cheek against the pillow. "Say the words. This isn't going to be published, this is just for me, so... s-so say it."
"His cock." His voice was almost a growl now. Kate whimpered. "He removed his cock, settling between her legs. She was wet as he pressed the tip of his cock against the lips of her pussy. With one quick, sure motion, he was inside of her." Kate used two fingers on herself, using the heel of her hand and her thumb.
Castle was silent except for his rough breathing. Kate raised her shoulder, pinning the phone against her ear as she reached down with her free hand to stroke her clit as she twisted two fingers inside of herself.
"Don't stop, Castle..."
"Can't..."
"Please... Rick..."
"He fucked her. She clung to him. And he... thrust into... her... God, Kate..."
"Tell me if you--"
"I'm coming." It was a grunt, and she imagined him hunched over his desk. Maybe the tip of his cock was wrapped in the tail of his shirt, and she imagined the dark stain spreading across the expensive material. She pressed her butt into the mattress, folding in on herself as she moaned and cried out her own climax.
When she could move again, she held the phone to her ear again. She heard Castle's steady post-orgasm breathing on the other end and decided it was only fair that he get to listen to hers. They sat in silence, neither one of them risking speech. She wiped her hand on the sheet, tugged her T-shirt back down to decent length, and brushed her hair out of her face.
Finally, she cleared her throat. "Goodnight, Castle."
"Night, Beckett." His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it, and she wondered what she would do to hear that sort of tone again. "Call me any time you need some more bedtime reading."
She smiled. "Count on it. Night."
She hung up and put the phone on her nightstand.
#
A few days later, a courier delivered a package to her apartment. She opened it to find a neatly-bound, extremely thin manuscript. The cover page made her laugh as she carried it to the bath with her.
HEAT STROKE
by
Richard Castle
and
Katherine Beckett