Castle & Beckett get stuck in an elevator. - Complete

What if Beckett lost it after her mother's death and her only sense of sanity came through Richard Edgar Castle's books? (Set before season 1. Winter kink Meme Fill) Beckett has abducted her favorite author and keeps him cuffed, tied up and or drugged in her bedroom to have her dirty way with him whenever she likes. AU. (This will hopefully be a memorable love story ;)

AU; Winter Hiatus Fill for Kink of the Castle meme. Prompt: Beckett has abducted her favorite author and keeps him cuffed, tied up and/or drugged in her bedroom to use whenever she likes. This is porn WITH plot, a dark, twisted plot, but a plot nonetheless. Just give it a try, you might like it.

He never thought it could hurt like this. AU for 5x05, "Probable Cause."

Castle and Beckett receive a tip off that leads them to a alley way. But something happens in the alley that changes everything. This story is rated M because it contains subject matter that is for mature readers. it was written to increase awareness and communication about the subject. It does not contain smut.

After a vivid dream, Beckett thinks she's been given a second chance. When she begins to doubt the reality surrounding her, there is only one person she can think of who has come up with crazier things than what she's living through.

My version of what happened at the end of "After the Storm" when the elevator doors closed. Smut warning, thus the M-rating. One-shot.

The thing about the NYPD Twelfth Precinct elevator is that it's really the most tempting place to put your hands on someone. The other thing about elevators though, is that sometimes they break.

Watching too much Setup/Countdown produces fic like this. Castle and Beckett encounter something that just might act as a wrecking ball.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to begin. Follows Tryst. Post Countdown.

Castle and Beckett are in way over their heads when a double murder investigation turns into a very deadly game. The stakes? Their lives.

She was right; he thought ironically; the blood on the front her sweater wasn't hers. However, the red that was blossoming on the left side of her body certainly was.

A touch was just the beginning.