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wlntrsldler · 8 months ago

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heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough.

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him.

what a fucking loser, luke thought.

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too.

he was right.

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told.

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound.

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?”

he received a growl in return.

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue.

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time.

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards.

“luke.”

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?”

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.”

“are we not good enough for you, luke?”

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?”

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either.

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.”

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?”

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh.

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him.

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.”

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.”

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat.

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.”

“you’re disgusting.”

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list.

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?”

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him.

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?”

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.”

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.”

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.”

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.”

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?”

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.”

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.”

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.”

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return.

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings.

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway.

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why.

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him.

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.”

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.”

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.”

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.”

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit.

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?”

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.”

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her.

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck.

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you.

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?”

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied.

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed.

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has.

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.”

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket.

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses.

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.”

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.”

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.”

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red.

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.”

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?”

“what do you mean?”

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.”

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.”

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.”

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again.

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.”

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.”

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it.

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.”

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.”

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it.

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use.

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…”

fuck it, he thought.

“shut up.”

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to.

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions.

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.”

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes.

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.”

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space.

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke.

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.”

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy.

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.”

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now.

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you.

“want a taste?”

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features.

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.”

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.”

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.”

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever.

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.”

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life.

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation.

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse.

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything.

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything.

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed.

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.”

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.”

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.”

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.”

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.”

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.”

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure.

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers.

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot.

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it.

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer.

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten.

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.”

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath.

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.”

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.”

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.”

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.”

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.”

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?”

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.”

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious.

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly.

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back.

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.”

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #i need water

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yorshie · 2 years ago

Text

Pick Up The Phone

Bayverse x FemReader PART TWO

tags/summary: violence, torture, cussing, hurt reader, angst, uhhhhh symptoms of shock? (I'm not to the point where I am writing an outright relationship but the undertones are there)

Reader has a date go sideways and the turtles come to the rescue, but there's a difference between seeing violence on tv and seeing someone you care for commit it.

Set in 2023 (Turtles aged up)

Leo would have called this an 'I told you so moment’.

You wished he was here, would have listened to his lecture on being more careful and not letting your guard down, if only for the fact that suffering through a powerpoint on ‘fifty ways today could go wrong’ would be happening on the way to the med bay, where hopefully Donnie would inform you that your arm was, in fact, not broken, and you were just being a little bit dramatic.

You deserved a few moments of dramatics at this point.

Your phone buzzed again, loud and angry in your hand, but you ignored it, knowing it wasn’t the number you wanted, needed. The screen was cracked, half the touchpad dead, and you weren’t even going to try to answer unless it was one of your friends.

Your face felt hot, sticky, but it was your arm that gave you worry. It had settled into a prickly pain that felt like a coiled snake, skin feverish and swelling quickly to the point your long-sleeved shirt felt constricting. Thank god it was dark outside, not many people around, easier to hide the side of your body that felt like it had shattered when you went down the stairs.

You paused under a street lamp, looked left and right, behind. The coast was clear, you felt far enough away. Your right hand pressed, shaky, on the screen, and you cursed, your fingers catching on the cracks as you fought with the half dead technology to hit a number, any number, on your short list.

Finally, failing, letting out a rough hiss, you jammed the phone on its side against your chest and held the button for assist.

It dinged, and you tucked your chin, whispering, “Siri, call Leo.”

“Sorry. Did you say ‘Call Leo’?” The answer, loud, carrying, had a shiver break across your shoulders, a cramp starting in your neck as your body tried to compensate the weight of keeping one side stationary.

“Yes.” It came out angry, even quieter, but the phone heard, and you watched as the screen changed, for once not trying to hit the speaker button.

The damaged screen was hot against your face, and you cradled it against the right side, unconsciously moving away from the light as you caught the distant shadow of a figure moving towards you.

The voicemail beeped, and you felt your face fall, not bothering to listen to the whole automated message. You set the phone back on your chest, pressed firm on the half lit ‘hang up’ button, fought a sniffle as it didn’t work.

You hissed out a breath again, pressed your forehead against the screen, and gritted out, “c'mon Leo, please- please, get your phone, please.”

---------------------------

“Hey, we on for movie night tonight?” Raph’s voice echoed throughout the lair as he hopped the turnstiles into the main room, depositing a pack of soda onto the common area table as he went.

“Don’t know,” Mikey’s voice floated from far above, and Raph ducked as his brother swooped down, the propulsion on his skateboard whining as he banked hard and jumped over a pipe. “Babycakes said something about having plans, told me and Donnie to not wait up.”

“Plans?” Raph frowned, cast his brother a look over his shoulder as he paused.

“Yea, Dee thinks it’s that guy we’re suppose to pretend to not know about.”

“Well, you’re doing an excellent job of that,” Raph sassed, already moving, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He stuck his head into the lab, careful not to move past the neon tape marking the entrance. “Hey, Don? You hear from girlie tonight?”

“No, not recently, but that’s not surprising.” Done answered, popping up from a workbench and moving towards his brother. “I sent a couple messages to her earlier, but I think she muted her phone, hasn’t answered.”

Before Raph could comment, he heard Mikey’s voice again. “Yea, she hasn’t even responded to the epic battle of cat gifs today, and we’ve had that thing rollin’ since Tuesday.”

Raph snorted, loudly, just to let Mikey know he was ridiculous, but Donnie hummed, brows shifting in confusion. “Hm, well… maybe Leo knows something.”

“Knows something about what?” Came the reply, the eldest stepping out from the dojo, swords clasped in his hand instead of strapped across his shell.

Raph jerked his chin towards him, “You talk to princess today?”

Leo paused, looked from Raph to Donnie. “No, but my phone’s been up in my room. Usually if she wants to talk, she does it in person.”

“Just go check your phone, numskull.” Raph gestured, and Leo scoffed, walking up the ramp to his room.

Donnie was already returning to the lab, grabbing his phone where it sat on the main desk. He frowned at the screen, calling back over his shoulder to Raph. “Got a missed call from her, just now.” The phone buzzed again, lighting up slightly brighter in his face. “Aaand now a voicemail.”

Raph moved to Donnie’s shoulder, crowding up into his space, as Donnie flicked the device open and navigated to the phone app.

“Donnie?”

They both froze, twin shivers working across their shells and down their legs like ice water at the hissed voice.

“Donnie, please, please- I need help-.”

It sounded like - like crying.

Raph was suddenly alone, a Donnie shaped hole next to him, as the taller brother all but teleported to his main station and started typing furiously on one keyboard.

Muffled, a harsher voice in the distance, and then your breath heaved out across the speaker, loud and uneven, the slap of footsteps echoing in the background. Raph could hear the next words from clear across the room.

“I’m not going back with you, leave me alone!”

“Donnie! We got a problem!” Leo was back. Raph spared him a glance, feet cemented to the floor, and saw the flash of an Otterbox in his hand.

“She called you, too?”

He saw Leo mouth the word too, before Donnie’s voicemail started up again, and he went silent, still.

It was that harsher voice again, this time clearer, closer. “Hey, c’mon, at least let me take you to the hospital-”

Raph felt something knock into him, saw Mikey shrug his shoulder out of the way, uncharacteristically solemn as he asked: “Donnie, where we goin, bro?”

A loud ringtone blared throughout the lab before Donnie could answer, and Raph all but ripped the seams on his pocket trying to get his phone out. He cut off the cheery jingle about sunshine, Donnie’s hissed “speaker, speaker” reminding him to hit the extra button instead of just screaming into the receiver:

“Princess!?”

“Raph?” And oh, the pain in his chest at that one word.

“Where are you, talk to me.” He felt crowded, Mikey against one shoulder, Leo at his back, but he fought the urge to shake them off.

“Who the fuck is Ra-”

“Your worst goddamn nightmare, if you don’t quit following me, asshat!” He could have kissed you for that, but that ball of ice in his gut solidified at the angry answer fired back:

Oh, so this is why you were guarding your pho-” The voice cut off, and they all heard the painful gasp that followed, your hiss audible.

“Donnie, work faster!” Leo all but shouted, but Donnie was already flying, grabbing gear as fast as he could. They scrambled out of the lab, Raph and Mikey racing for the dojo, hot on the others’ heels as they leaped the turnstiles and raced to see who would get out to the tunnels first.

----------------------------------

Your call with Raph got disconnected in the struggle, but at that point all the despair, all the pain, got balled up in the center of your chest and turned into rage. You had minutes, maybe fifteen at the most, before the calvary arrived, and the idiot currently trying to haul you back to the street by your good shoulder would be in for a world of hurt.

“Stop! I don’t want to go anywhere with you!”

He ignored you, still pulling you away from the alley, from the manhole cover you’d been trying to pry open.

“You aren’t thinking clearly, why the fuck are you trying to go down into the sewer?”

“Let. Me. Go.” You stepped forward quickly, stomped his foot, jerked back just as fast.

“Fuck, you little bitch-”

The manhole cover behind you rocketed off the ground, disappearing into the dark with a loud crash and you felt like laughing at the sheer relief, your arm suddenly free as the man grabbing you was unceremoniously jerked away.

He was emitting a high pitched whine, the sound disappearing the harder Raph squeezed.

That relief bubbled away at the sight of violence, big hands slowly squeezing. You looked up at his face, expecting murder, bracing for it.

Devastated by the look of hatred in its stead.

Someone's arms wrapped around you, Mikey, you distantly thought, but you pulled against the warm push of muscle. “Stop- stop him-”

“Back off, Raph,” Leo barked, and you shivered as Raph dropped the man with a thud.

A quick glance around made you realize that, while relief had been your first emotion, something much darker had a hold of the turtles.

Donnie took up your vision as Leo moved past, large hands cool as he took your face between them and together with Mikey tried to turn you away.

Craning your neck, you could just make out the hiss of steel being drawn as Leo stopped over the crumpled figure on the ground.

A fear wormed its way into your heart, beating louder and louder. “Wait, wait- stop. Leo! Stop!”

He pulled up short like a puppet on strings, and you curled your good arm across Mikey’s bicep, trying for just a little wiggle room. Donnie’s thumbs still tracking across the bad side of your face as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“I need-I need you guys to take me to the lair.” The words left in a rush, your tone almost panicked, desperate that they take the bait. “Please, Raph. Leo. Please, I need you all to take me to the lair.”

“She’s got a broken arm,” Donnie called, as if you hadn’t spoken. “The head wound seems superficial, but it’s a lot of blood.”

You swatted away his hands, kept your eyes over his shoulder, tip toeing, pulling against Mikey. “Leave him, its not worth -”

Wrong thing to say. Raph moved faster than you could think. The crunch of bone against pavement the only warning before a high pitch scream left the man still on the ground.

The near growled whoops was darker than you had heard his voice before, but Leo only huffed a low chuckle that did nothing to ease your fears.

“Don, She’s nicked here,” Mikey’s murmur jerked you back, made you realize the calloused hands on you had moved. His grip had shifted, one arm across your chest, the other pulling at the hem of your shirt, thumb tucked into the crease of your hip.

Donnie’s finger moved to cover the broken skin, and you hissed, breath broken, babbling: “Stairs. Stairs- I fell down the stairs leaving-”

“Oh?” Leo’s voice reached you, and you cut yourself off, jaw snapping shut despite the fact that the tone wasn’t aimed at you. “I didn’t know you were called ‘stairs’. Nice to meet you.”

You couldn’t see what he did, but whatever it was pulled out a gargled whine.

Your hand finally unlatched from Mikey’s wrist, grabbed a hold of Donnie’s arm, tightened until you knew your nails were digging in. “Donnie- Donatello! Listen!”

Hazel eyes snapped to your face, and you continued, desperate to establish contact. “You are better than this, you all are better than this. Call it, Dee. Get me to the Lair."

His eyes flickered, you felt hope. “I’m really tired, Dee. My arm hurts so bad, please.”

His mouth pulled up at one corner, as if he knew what you were doing, saw straight through to the panic. He straightened to his full height, and you let that relief blossom, felt the pain in your arm again as he turned.

He whispered something, low, to Leo, and you watched, helpless in Mikey’s grip, as they turned in unison to your failed date.

“If.” Leo lowered himself, and you saw the sway of the blade in his hand, saw the way the man seemed hypnotized by the threat. “You. Ever. So much as think ill of her, we will know. And we will find you.”

Mikey’s chest vibrated under you back as he chuckled, his lyrical tone causing you to shiver. “Look at the big man quiver. Fucked up the wrong tree, bro.”

You bit your tongue, hard, fighting the urge to try and hurry them, goad them into leaving faster, knowing it might snap whatever hold you had and they’d go back into torment mode.

You didn’t release your breath until you all were in the tunnel below, good arm coming up to wrap around Mikey’s neck as he shifted you, careful of your bad side, gait long and even as they ate up miles.

Finally, a good ten minutes in, and you finally raised your head from his neck to ask, “Is my arm really broken?”

Heard Donnie hum an affirmative, and lowered your nose back to tuck against the juncture of Mikey’s neck. “Just one break, in your forearm. I’m hypothesizing you stuck it out to break a fall?”

“I really did take a trip down the stairs,” it felt wrong to try to inject humor, but they were so silent except for the sound of their feet on the cement. You tried to fill the silence again. “He only pushed me against the wall, only tried to get my phone. If I’d been smarter-”

A heavy hand, finger curling under your chin, and you let him, met Raph’s gaze, “If you say ‘only’ one more time, I’m turnin’ round.”

You made a strangled nose, disappeared back into the safety of Mikey’s hold, felt his hand soothe the shiver that had started in your shoulders, down your spine.

Donnie kept the med bay sterile, bleach clean. The white tiled walls boxed you in as Mikey set you on the patient bed, gently removing the grip you had on his wrist so Donnie could take his place.

They filled the room til the space was fit to burst, and you felt the tension, drowned in it with every pass of the soft cloth Donnie rubbed across your face, every brush of your knee against his leg. You had no idea who was wound tighter, you or them.

Finally, when Donnie moved back and you blinked at the harsh light after minutes of keeping your eyes clenched tight, Leo sighed. A deep, chest rattling exhale of breath, and it was like those imaginary puppet strings were finally cut, and you slumped your good shoulder against the wall behind you.

You could almost see him open his mouth even though you were faced the opposite way, and belatedly remembered how you had looked forward to his powerpoint presentation earlier. A smile worked its way onto your face, a twisted thing, gone as soon as you felt the atmosphere shift again.

“The fuck you smilin’ about?” Raph. And you swallowed heavily, mind flickering back to big hands squeezing.

“Raph.” Leo’s reprimand was soft, different from the bark earlier. You suddenly wanted him to snap, wanted the anger. Wanted them to at least stay on one page so you had a hope of processing it.

You felt tears, now of all times, escape their ledge, start tracking down your face as Donnie moved to your arm. You stared at a point over his shell, where the wall met the ceiling, and held it.

“Ah, shit, princess. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” That big hand again, cupping your cheek, and without thinking you curled your face away, heartbeat painful, imagining the strain to squeeze the life out of a man with one grip.

His hand hung in the air, suspended, then dropped, and you tracked it all in slow motion.

Donnie interrupted, “I’m gonna look at your ribs now, kay?”

You nodded woodenly, sucked in a breath at how cold his hands felt against broken skin.

“You’re gonna feel a little out of sorts for a bit,” he continued, and blessedly Raph moved away. For a heart stopping moment you thought he was leaving, but he only leaned back against the closed door. You tracked over him, then around the room, realized he had gone to the wall furthest from Leo.

Donnie pulled your attention again, “you’re likely already experiencing some shock symptoms-”

Donnie was almost always right, you realized, because at that moment you blurted out: “Thank you, for- coming to-” The words stuck, and the tears wouldn’t stop, and you could still see Raph’s hand hanging in the space next to you. Your arm burned, your ribs ached, but you needed to say it, needed them to know that-

“Hey, babycakes, it’s ok. It’s ok.” Mikey was on the bed behind you, legs sliding on either side of yours, holding you steady with a warm hand on your good hip, and you breathed in sharp, your shiver turning into full body quakes.

Donnie kept a hold of your bad arm, held it out, kept it steady as he continued to work on it, probing the break carefully.

Leo moved, silent, in between a long blink, grip on your calves soft as he dropped to his knees, caged you in between Mikey’s thighs and his plastron.

Raph sighed from where he stood, and you heard more than saw him push off the door, steps loud as he moved to your free side and once again raised his hands.

They curled along your jaw, too big, too strong. Grip careful as he wiped away the tears, cradled your head to keep your chattering teeth still.

An echo of the earlier violence, but at this point you didn’t care.

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