#lockwood and co imagines

[wordsarelife]

like lockwood, best friends to lovers

—you belong with me

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: reader has to flirt to finish a mission. much to the dismay of Lockwood she is far too good at it

warnings: flirting with sexual themes??

shortages: f/n — fake name

note: okay sorry this got a bit out of hand and it didn't really end where or how I intended it to. let me know if y'all would be interested in a part two!!!

part two: that's the way I loved you

you walked down the steps. the red dress you were wearing fluttering around the middle of your thighs. your hair was styled, Lucy had curled it after she had done your make—up

“test, test” you whispered into the little microphone you were wearing in your hair, so it would stay hidden

“we can hear you, y/n” George answered and you could swear he was rolling his eyes “we tested it a minute ago”

“sorry” you muttered

“leave her be” Lockwood said to George. he would always come to your rescue, even if you didn’t ask him to. that’s why he was your best—friend after all.

you breathed in deeply and snatched a glass of champagne from one of the waiters trays, gulping it down in one shot. you checked your lipstick in the little mirror Lucy had packed into the small bag you were wearing, before your hands found your waist and pulled down the dress, so your cleavage was showing

you stepped forward and sat down at the bar, right next to the guy you were targeting

his hair was black and he was actually attractive if it weren’t for the people he had killed to create sources. it was just your task to find one of them though, or better put: to occupy the man until Lucy had found the source.

“hi” you smiled, turning your head and also your chest, so the man could get a good look at it

“hello” he grinned and you swore you could’ve thrown up then and there. “would you like a drink?”

“sure” you outstretched your hand “i’m f/n”

he took your hand and shook it “Sebastian, and i’m glad to share a drink with a beautiful woman” he slid the drink the bartender had just supplied, towards you

“thank you” you smiled, raising the glass and taking a sip from the alcohol

“so, what brings you here?” Sebastian asked, while his hand found its way to rest on your knee

you could hear Lockwood and George drag in the air through the mouths loudly, like Sebastian had just touched their knee

you tried not to react to their sudden sounds, but Sebastian was good at picking up your emotions it seemed.

"everything alright?" he asked, leaning even closer

"yeah" you smiled, trying to fight the uneasiness you felt because of his proximity "I'm not used to the company of handsome looking men" you tried to save the conversation and Sebastian seemed to like your compliment

you ignored Lockwood's scoff while you watched Sebastian lean back in comfort "well" he smiled smugly "I'm all yours, beautiful"

you could hear Lockwood and George gag at the same time, you would have liked to do the same, but Sebastian was still looking at you. "what a lucky girl I am" you laughed instead and patted the shoulder of the male, who, again, smiled smugly at the gesture

his hand wandered a bit higher on your leg and you could feel it close to the hem of your dress. you threw a panicked gaze in Lockwood's direction. discreet enough that Sebastian wouldn't notice. it seemed like he was occupied anyway, with watching his own hand make its way up your leg. with every inch it felt like you couldn't breathe

you just hoped that Lucy would be quick.

"what brings you here, pretty lady?" Sebastian repeated his question from earlier, to which he had never received an answer

"work" you smiled nonchalantly, trying to keep your composure. his hand was resting for now, that was good.

"what do you do?" he smiled

"I've worked for a few agency's for a while (truth) but after I lost my talents I settled down and changed to the office area of fittes (lie)"

you pretty much still had your talents, you were only seventeen, but now you where trying to look much older. this was achieved by the make up and the obnoxious and uncomfortable push-up bra you were wearing. it felt like they would fall out of your dress any moment. Sebastian seemed to like the sight of your décolleté a bit too much, you noticed, while his eyes wandered down to your breasts while you were talking. you would have liked to slap his head and tell him how impolite it was to directly look there, not only under normal circumstances but while you were talking as well.

you weren't used to that kind of disgusting men behaviour, even if you had lived with two of them for the most of your life.

you could stand in front of George and Lockwood just wearing a bra and they wouldn't dare and look. Maybe because George was like a brother to you and Lockwood- Lockwood was a gentleman

your thoughts wandered away from the conversation at hand and back to the brunette agency head, who alway managed to make you feel at ease. even on mission like this one, he was looking at you across the room and anytime you would catch his eyes, your breath would calm and you would feel safe.

also, he had promised you to come and save you if things went too far. he was your best-friend after all.

your eyes wandered back to meet Sebastians and you remembered what Lucy had told you. if you feel uncomfortable just put yourself back in control. so you leaned forward, so he could get an even better look at your cleavage. he stammered while talking but quickly continued normally. you took his hand from off your leg and interlaced your fingers. he wouldn't notice that you were actually trying to keep him away, he would see that gesture as you falling into his trap. that was what men always thought.

now that you were back in control, your mind felt at ease and you felt less like a little girl that needed to be saved. now you were a woman. and he, he was still a man, luckily.

"I travel a lot" you answered the question he had just asked you about your work "I check out different agencies all around the world. make sure that they are working right. we wouldn't want any rules broken, would we?" you fluttered your eyelids and watched in satisfaction what effect that last purposely chosen sentence had on him

"n-no" he stammered

"are you alright?" you asked pitiful

"yes" Sebastian tried to gain back his composure and actually succeeded "but I must say, you're the most breath taking woman I've ever seen. everything is where it should be"

"oh my god" George muttered loudly, disgusted by the objectifying words the older man had just said about his friend

"I'm stopping this" you watched as Lockwood stood up from his place and George tried to hold him back. you knew that it was on you to prevent him from cancelling the mission. you send him a look that told him to sit down again and he eventually listened and scoffed

"thank you, Sebastian" you leaned closer, now speaking into his ear "you look more than daring yourself, if i'm allowed to say so"

"you are" he nodded leaning forward

now the moment had come. he would kiss you. you weren't sure if it would come to that point, but you had sworn to do it if it needed to be done to keep the mission from failing. a second before your lips connected, Sebastian was drown back

drawn back by no other than Lockwood. you were a second away from screaming at the boy, when you noticed Lucy across the hall. she had done it. the mission was completed. you no longer had to flirt with that scumbag.

"oh, Tony" you muttered in surprise, still playing a role

that was what you guys had agreed on. the moment Lucy would come back, Lockwood or George would interrupt the conversation and act like they were an old friend of yours who was in town coincidentally and had seen you sitting at the bar.

"f/n" Lockwood muttered angrily and you raised your brows, watching his expression "I'm sorry" he said turning towards Sebastian and outstretching his hand "Anthony Lockwood"

Sebastian took the hand he was being offered and shook it "Sebastian Keen" he said, still confused to what was happening

"nice to meet you. can I ask what you were doing with my girlfriend?"

"your what?" Sebastian asked loudly and you had almost joined in. his eyes wandered to you and you tried to stay in role, even if Lockwood had just completely changed your script

"my girlfriend" Lockwood repeated unnecessarily "were you bothering her? because it looked like that"

"no, she wanted-"

"yes, Tony" you interrupted, opening your eyes wider and letting them fill with tears "it's alright, dear" Lockwood outstretched his hand and helped you to stand up "stay away from her, you hear me?" he said threateningly

"I didn't harass her or anything. she's lying" Sebastian said angrily

Lockwood shook his head "doesn't matter, just don't ever talk to her again, alright?"

"sure" Sebastian shrugged his shoulders "she isn't that pretty anyways"

Lockwood interlaced your hands and walked you away from the man "she obviously is" he muttered to himself, but you heard him and had to smile at his words "you're pretty too" Lockwood turned his head to you while walking and smiled at your relieved expression

"I'm glad you didn't have to kiss him"

"I'm glad too"

"well, luckily your boyfriend was just around the corner" he smiled but you could see the sincerity in his eyes

you nodded, eyes glistening happily "yes, luckily he was"

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Don’t Tell

Anthony Lockwood x f!Reader

Warnings: None this is just fluff only ;) 💖💖💖

Summary: Y/N and Lockwood have been together for a while now, but they’d rather have the first few moments of their relationship to themselves. Still, that doesn’t stop them from having a few mishaps before they finally decide to let George and Lucy in on the secret.

A/N: I really really hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 It took a while cause it is slightly longer :’) 💖💖💖 but I just wanna say I love the fake dating trope, I legit live for it :) 💖💖💖 and I hope you do too ;) 💖💖💖 Other than that I hope you have a great day :) 💖💖💖

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He pulled away, leaving her breathless. She laced her fingers through his hair, pulling herself to be closer to him. It looked desperate and it was desperate, she could admit that. It had been a long day. Somehow they had ended up entangled, on his bed, it was sinking in under the weight of them. He hovered over her, chewing his lip slightly, “So maybe we shouldn’t tell George and Lucy yet ?”.

“I- Why ?”, her forehead was crinkled. There didn’t seem to be any proper reason to withhold them from this fact.

He frowned, collapsing over her. She gasped, her lips parted in shock. He didn’t seem to notice, resting his head on her chest, “It’ll ruin the whole group dynamic”.

“Plus George is not the best with change”, his voice vibrated on her skin, sending chills down her spine.

She adjusted herself to face him, a brow raised, “That is true, but still are you sure it’s not cause you don’t want people to know we’re together ?”. It was teasing, but a small voice in the back of her head taunted her. What if he was embarrassed of her ? What if this was all for the sake of his reputation ? She hurriedly shook the thoughts from her mind. He would never do that to her.

“I am most definitely sure”, he leaned back, gaze fixed on hers. Her heart pounded in her chest. She turned away, feeling vulnerable.

He tilted her head back to his with a finger, “Why would anyone ever want to hide you ?”. His voice was quiet, like he was asking himself a question. His eyes flickered to her lips before coming back to meet hers.

She suddenly felt self conscious. Whining she covered her face with a hand, “Lockwood”.

“I’m being serious, I promise”, he laughed, pulling her arm away.

His palm remained on her cheek, gently running his thumb back and forth. She leaned into his touch. Gently he pressed his lips onto hers. His taste of bergamot and honey never got old. She smiled into the kiss. They parted for air and he gave her a lopsided grin, “Just for a few months, until we finish our current jobs and then we’ll tell them”.

“I promise”, he linked their pinkies, curling them together.

“Fine, but if anyone asks, this was your idea”, she rolled her eyes. Somehow, he could always convince her to do anything, and he was all to aware of that. He was lucky she loved him. Still, what was a few months right ? They could pull this off, they have done worse before.

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“Morning”, he whispered, tugging her closer to him.

She yawned, “Mmhm, good morning”. She pressed her lips against his cheek, before snuggling her face deeper into his neck.

“This is nice”, he smiled, running his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she pulled the covers up to her nose, “Yes it is, but now you have to get out”.

“What ? Why ?”, his eyes went wide.

She patted him on the chest, “You were the one who wanted to hide our relationship”. Was it a little mean ? Maybe, still it was his idea and so he had to suffer the consequences. Plus, she wasn’t going to be out of bed at 6 am if she didn’t have to. If she had to sacrifice his heat and comfort for that, so be it.

“No one’s awake right now”, he groaned into her hair.

She pressed her lips together, trying hard not to giggle, “George is an early riser”.

“Darling, don’t make me”, he was annoyed, but his legs were already hanging of the edge of the bed.

The springs of the mattress creaked at the loss of his weight. He was mumbling under his breath, but she just laughed, “Bye-bye”.

The door clicked open, and he padded out, but just as it was about to swing closed it just didn’t. She opened an eye at the offensive lack of noise. The room was dark except for a sliver of light shining through the hallway. She winced at the sudden bright light, hissing at the cold air as she got out of bed, but stopped when she heard another door.

A part of her longed to tuck herself back to sleep, but her other half won, as she peered out the crack in the door. His back was to her, hair still ruffled, “I- George”. She could only imagine the look on his face.

“Lockwood what are you doing awake at this time ?”, his brows were furrowed inquisitively.

“I- I uh- Actually I wanted to talk to you”, she wondered if George could hear the unsteadiness in his voice.

“About what ?”, he sounded even more confused.

She held her breath, silently reassuring herself that he would be able to think of a believable lie, though his track-record said otherwise. This was it, a whole 2 weeks in and they were about to be caught. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, “About- You know I think we need to reevaluate the effectiveness our organisation system”.

“You really think so ?”, he grinned. What ? How had that worked ? She figured she should just be thankful that it did, and that he hadn’t gotten suspicious.

“Definitely”, he was nodding his head.

She watched as George’s shadow descended the stairs, “So was I, I had a few ideas that I wanted to run by you”.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, sneaking a glance at him as he threw his head back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He caught her eye and glared, but again, this was his plan she thought. She could only give him a sympathetic smile and shrug her shoulders.

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“Has anyone seen the forms that we needed to send to DEPRAC”, his fingers ran through his hair. She chewed her bottom lip. He was worried, and she couldn’t blame him. As an agency they haven’t exactly had a great relationship with the government, which could be a problem at times. Let’s be honest, most of the time.

Lucy sat across from her, forehead creased, “No, can you remember where you last saw them ?”.

He frowned, “I-”.

She felt her chest tighten at his expression and thought hard. “You put them into that book, I can’t remember what it was called, but then you put it into the second drawer of your desk”, she snapped her fingers, putting her mug down.

He was beaming, “Right, thanks”. She grinned back. Sending her a wink, he bounded out of the room, presumably to fetch the papers. She looked away, her stomach doing a flip. How is it that this still happened, despite them being together for a month.

“Great memory ?”, Lucy took a sip from her cup, eyeing her suspiciously. The smile fell from her face, she blew over her cup, the steam flying up. She could think of a believable, convincing response.

She bit her lip, “I uh- Yeah”. Right, so maybe it wasn’t one of her best moments, but in her defence, it was hard to think of a good enough answer under Lucy’s piercing gaze. She was only glad he was not here to catch it, knowing she would never hear the end of it.

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“Is that- Is that a hickey ?”, her eyes went wide, a heat rising to her face. She hastily put away the groceries in their cupboards. Shit shit shit. Tilting her head to the left, she could see that his mouth was gaping just a little.

She spun around, with tight-lipped smile, “I- No, no of course not, I actually”. George and Lucy shared a glance, and she took the opportunity to send him a pointed look. She had specifically told him not to make it visible, but he was persistent and stubborn. It’s not like she wasn’t enjoying it in the moment, but now she was beginning to regret it. She cursed under her breath. Think of something, she mouthed at him.

He grinned, “She fell down yesterday”. He nodded at her. Another one of his brilliant ideas, she thought she could cry right there.

George raised a brow, “She fell down, on her neck ?”. He didn’t sound like he believed them. Hell, she didn’t even believe them. Still, he looked so confident, she wanted to laugh. Hopefully it would just blow over their heads.

“Yes, while we were doing the shopping, she just missed a step and there she was on the ground”, he gestured plaintively. Please give up she thought. Thankfully they shrugged their shoulders and continued their breakfast. She sighed, relieved that their interrogation was over, but she still punched his arm as she took a seat at the table.

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It had been 3 months of sneaking around and lying, of stolen kisses and secret dates. They never went a week without a single slip up or mistake, and despite it all they had somehow pulled it off, George and Lucy both did not have an inkling of an idea that they were in a relationship. Still, they had had enough of it. Everything was becoming a bit overwhelming and they would much rather let their friends in on the secret.

They stood on the stairs out of view, she on the step above him, making her slightly taller. He had his arms around her waist and hers were around his neck. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, “Are you sure ?”.

He only nodded his head, giving her a kiss on the forehead. This was hard for him, change, it had always been the four of them, friends. He was worried that this, them, would change all that, and a part of her worried that too, but the greater part of her was sure that their friends would be welcoming to the idea. She pressed her lips together to stop the wide grin from forming. Gently he entangled himself from her, except for their hands still interlocked, leading her to the living room.

The room was dimly lit, their heads immediately turned as they entered. Their gaze shifted down to their intertwined hands for a second before coming back to their faces. He squeezed her palm, “Right so, I um- We have something to tell you guys”.

“That you guys are dating ?”, George didn’t even look up from his book.

She was puzzled, pursing her lips, “I- How did you know ?”. They were so subtle, so discreet. Just a few minutes ago they were giving each other pats on the back for their acting abilities. Clearly it was starting to look like the exact opposite.

“We both knew for the longest time, it was quite obvious”, Lucy gave her an apologetic look.

“And you never said anything ?”, he ran a palm across his face. Well now she just felt embarrassed. They shared a sheepish smile.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I mean we just wanted to see how long you too would manage”.

She rolled her eyes plopping down onto the sofa. He was not far behind her, an arm was instinctively at her side, and she leaned into him. At least now they didn’t have to second guess every choice they made. George grinned, finally peeking up from behind the papers, “That and it was extremely entertaining, for us at least”. They both laughed. He groaned, chucking a cushion at their friend, which he easily dodged. She couldn’t help but laugh too as he buried his face in her hair.

[oblivious-idiot]

you asked about lockwood & co inspiration :

maybe lockwood x reader inspired by the deleted scene with the pyjama and towel thing. i thought it was hilarious. could include some teasing bc of anthony‘s color choice

Heart patterned pyjamas

A/n: Ahh thank you so much for this!! I love this idea so much omg, hopefully you like it!! 🧡 Warnings: mild swearing, but mainly fluff Word count: 5oo Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

After a late night on a case with the team, you head up to your room to take a shower. You were absolutely covered in soot and dirt as always so it was nice to finally get clean and wash away all the thoughts from case. It was the early hours of the morning still, so everyone was so exhausted and ready to sleep before you all even walked through the front door.

You put your radio on while you shower, one of Lockwood’s favourite songs starts playing - it was a song by The Cure, which makes you smile to yourself as you thought about his stupid cocky smirks he sends you all the time, or the way he clutches onto your hands to make sure you’re okay after battling Visitors.

Once you finished your long, much needed shower you step back into your room, just as you realise you forgot to bring your clean laundry and pyjamas upstairs. “Shit” you mutter to yourself, really hoping the boys are in bed by now so they don’t have to see you in just a towel, having to stop yourself from blushing at the thought of Lockwood’s face.

Silently you creep down the stairs to the kitchen, your bare feet slightly sticking to the wooden floor boards and your hair dripping onto your shoulders. As you enter the kitchen, your eyes immediately meet with Lockwood’s, who’s just casually sat drinking a cup of tea in his pink button up pyjamas.

“Sorry I-, I forgot to grab my pyjamas from the dryer” you say to him, trying not to laugh at his appearance “nice er, pyjamas Anthony”

“Thanks!” his face lighting up, looking at you and only just fully realising what you’re wearing - which is very little. “Nice… towel” his gulp audible as he pulls his eyes away from you as you kneel by the dryer. Heat rises to your cheeks when he comments on your appearance, quickly grabbing onto your warmed clothes.

You look over to him and notice that his pyjamas have small embroidered patterns on them, and you can’t stop yourself from walking over to him and touching the fabric on his collar, surpressing a snigger from your lips. “You know Lockwood, I never saw you as the kind of guy to wear baby pink pyjamas, let alone ones with hearts on them.” His face visibly turning red from the fact that not only are you stood so close with your hand on his shirt, but also from seeing you in just the towel, hair still dripping. “The pink really brings out the rosy colour in your cheeks” you add with a chuckle before giving his nose a little boop and leave him in the kitchen.

George was, of course, stood in the kitchen doorway the whole time, and when he catches Lockwood’s eye from across the kitchen he just sighs and laughs. Lockwood looks at him as if nothing weird just happened “What?” “Nice towel? really??” George replies, shaking his head in bewilderment.

(I know Lockwood doesn't technically have hearts on his pyjamas, I just thought it would be funny to add it in!)

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Let me

Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader

Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.

AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)

The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.

Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.

He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.

The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.

The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.

The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.

You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.

At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.

Which led you to your current predicament.

There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.

Sergeant Bowers.

Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.

Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.

It was peculiar.

You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."

It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?

A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.

You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.

"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.

"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.

He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.

"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.

You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.

You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.

You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.

Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.

You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.

"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.

Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.

He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."

You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.

Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.

"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."

"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?

Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.

"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."

"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."

"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.

He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.

"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."

You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.

You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.

He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.

He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk

Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.

Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.

"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."

"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."

"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.

"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."

"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."

"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."

"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.

"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.

Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.

You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.

"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.

"So?"

"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.

"Yeah. We probably should."

"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.

You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"

"I don't understand?"

"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.

"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"

"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"

"14, actually."

"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."

"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"

"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.

Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"

"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"

"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.

"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.

"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."

You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."

You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.

"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.

"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.

"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.

"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."

fin.

[websterss]

𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐘 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Idk if you are taking request but I just wanted to share this idea for an Anthony Lockwood x reader piece about like her meeting Anthony bc she is delivering donuts from Arif and like Lockwood keeps offering to go get more donuts or calls to get them delivered bc he wants to see her. I just needed to share the idea with such an amazing writer so thank you!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Angst, fluff, mentions of bruises that’s it really. 

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,358

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it love! I hope you like the direction I took this. @writerinlearning​/emy read the rough draft i had for this, and said it was good. I’ve been doubting my writing again, but after a heartfelt talk with her she reminded me not to doubt my writing. So i really hope you guys like it. <33

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Lockwood hadn’t reeled in on when he started to grow an obsession for doughnuts. Hardly a sweet tooth, but after George insisted on placing an order at Arif’s one morning. All thoughts of reason abandoned him. When he opened the front door after a continuous tap of knocks against the wood. He was rendered speechless because there stood you. A pretty girl, dawning the most adorable winter apparel, with an affectionate smile. One he reciprocated in a millisecond. His eyes had taken you all in. Only stopping so his intrusive thoughts wouldn’t get the best of him. Women were hardly his biggest enemy. He had his charm to thank for that, but why was it that when you suddenly appeared at his doorstep, that he couldn’t muster a complete sentence?

You grow flustered under his stare and let out a timid laugh. You glance down at the receipt in your hand. Reading off the name that was given.

“Hello. Is this 35 Portland Row…” You glance up at the numbering on the door. Then back to the boy who still had yet to say anything. “I have an order for George Karim.” As if he was released from an enchantment. He gasps and straightens himself out.

“H-Hello. Yes. I’m sorry. Yes, you’ve come to the right place.” He opens the door a bit wider now. His mouth tugged up into a grin. Your eyes glance away quickly. He was quite gorgeous, there was no denying that, but you knew better than to flirt with a customer. Arif would have your head if a complaint comes through, especially about the new hire. You both stand there awkwardly. The bag of delights is still in your hand. Lockwood still doesn’t seem to grasp that you're only there to deliver and be on your merry way. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. He pats down his trousers, his wallet seemingly misplaced. He shouts over his shoulder. “George, do you have any cash on you?” He turns back to you with an apologetic smile. You stand patiently waiting to hand over the bag. You hiss as a slight breeze nips at your skin. The gloves and scarf you wear hardly do their job to keep you warm, but it’s enough to satisfy you.

“Oh god, where have my manners gone? Would you like to come in? It’s quite chilly today.” You began to protest, but he’s already ushering you inside. You muster a gracious thank you. Standing in the entryway as he closes the door behind you. Your eyes lock again, and you laugh out your nerves. Hoping and praying that you don’t make a tomfoolery out of yourself. He pockets his hands in his back pockets. He observes you as your eyes dart around the entryway. You hold onto the folded edge of the bag. You bite your lips as you try to occupy your mind, as you wait for your payment. Taking in the decor and wallpaper, you smile as it provides an inviting aura. Various colors and decor that adds character to the place. As you let your eyes wander mindlessly. It doesn’t take long for you to stare past his legs. There stands behind him, a place holder with steel blades. Lockwood follows your line of sight. He’s just about ready to give a flirty remark, but is rather concerned when you beat him to talking. He lets out a light chuckle when you ask. 

“What are those?” He would have assumed you were pulling his hair, but the innocence you radiate pulls at his heart strings. Everyone would have already guessed what the weapons in the placeholder were, but you show no signs of recognizing them. Unfamiliarity creased within your narrowed brows. Oddly enough your innocence gives him something he hasn’t had in the longest time. A taste of normalcy. It wasn’t everyday where one was unfamiliar with a rapier. The most commonly used weapon to fight against ghosts. The legendary Marissa Fittes and Tom Rotwell were known to have used them first, now every agent in London utilized them. So imagine his surprise when you fail to have no knowledge of such a thing. This suddenly made him weigh his options. He had the ability to either keep your innocence intact and relieve you from the cruel reality of what living in London is like, or he could bring up your awareness as to what lurked and stalked in the night.

Were you even aware of the curfew? 

“These are rapiers.” He drew one out to showcase to you. You stepped back, surprised by the length and shine it possessed. 

“Rapiers?” The word foreign on your tongue. “What do you do with a rapier?” 

“They come quite in handy for when we need to get rid of cobwebs.” He looked over at you and threw you a wink. 

“Seriously?”

“No.” He laughed, making your shoulders relax. He paused, hesitating on telling you the truth. So he opted for a partial truth instead. “I used to fence...duel against other people.” Agents really. He grows timid. Placing the weapon back into its holder alongside with the others.

“Fence?” He would give anything to watch your eyes light up the way they did again. The corner of your lips tugged upward. “Are you any good?” 

“Is he any good-” A scoff interrupts your conversation. George comes down from the second landing. You both snap your heads towards the curly haired boy. You step back as he walks forward. “Best if you don’t get him started. He’ll go off the railings and then before you know it…he’s showing you his newspaper clippings.” Lockwood rolls his eyes. You breathe out a laugh, unsure of what newspaper clippings the now acclaimed George informs you of. He looks you up and down with a faint frown. You grow small under his narrowed eyes, but they soften. Bringing you at ease. “Are you Arif’s new girl? He usually sends out Katie for deliveries.” George exchanges with you. The fifteen quid now in your hand, and the bag of doughnuts in his. He opens the bag almost instantly, checking to make sure that his order hasn’t been mixed up. It never is though. Once he sees his double covered chocolate donut he gives a satisfied nod. He takes it out to bite down on it. Lockwood tries to stifle the laugh he can’t hold back. George remains as weird as he always is.

“Uh yeah for now at least. He said his previous employees quit all of a sudden…Something about the work hours being rough on their commute home before a curfew? I’m not so sure to be quite frank. I only really started last week. It was normally Katie at the time, she was in the process of showing me the ropes, but she just threw in her apron Monday morning. Arif’s taken a massive blow, we’ve hardly managed to make deliveries on time.” You wince. 

“Did she say why?” Lockwood grew intrigued. Crossing his arms over his chest. You shrugged, and shook your head no. He hummed in wonder.

“Afraid not. Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright…” He reassures you. “Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing one another quite often then.” You turn away, trying to figure out if he was being flirty, or if you were way in over your head. “George never misses out on his morning doughnuts with tea.” 

“I guess we will then…” You bid them a smile, then turn to the door. “It was nice to meet you George and…” You trail off. Your eyes shifting to his tall frame leaning up against the open door. He catches your want for his name.

“Anthony. Anthony Lockwood.”

“It was nice to meet you, Anthony.” Lockwood mirrors your coy smirk. You step off the last step and begin walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the shop around the corner. He finds your green gloved wave to be the most endearing and cutest thing ever. He waves back at you in a lame manner that he lets his arm fall back down to his side. When you turn your back to him, he’s yet to shut the door. George walks up beside him, munching rather loudly in his ear. 

“She was nice. I can see why Arif hired her.” George hummed.

“He’d be stupid not to have…” Lockwood kept watching as you slowly faded out of his view.

“A lot nicer than Katie too. Arif is bound to get more customers now that he's hired her.”

“I do believe Katie called you a weirdo every chance she got…This ones certainly a step up from Katie’s colorful choice of words she loved to throw around. Her social skills needed work.” He caught the slightest glimpse of you turning the corner.

“She asked about your fencing.” Lockwood turned to look at George as he heard the change in his tone. A stupid grin plastered on his face. He rolled his eyes at George’s foolish behavior. He was teasing him, reeling in on the fact a pretty girl showed up on their front doorstep, and now he couldn’t help but watch you leave. He shoved his friend away not wanting to give him the satisfaction that you may or may not have left him in a flustered state. “She called you Anthony.” 

“Oh shut it…” He sighed spacing out as he watched London move about. Taxi’s driving by and people taking a stroll before it was too dark. “You didn’t happen to catch her name did you?” He regretted asking instantly. He winced, already knowing that if he turned. He’d see George reveling smugly. And he was correct. It was as clear as the sun shining on them that morning. His stupid smirk mocking him. His face twisted with annoyance. “Forget I asked.”

“If I didn’t know any better-”

“You should.” Lockwood warned him. “It’d do you some good.”

“I’d say you fancy her?”

“I don't fancy her. I just met her. I couldn’t possibly feel something for a complete stranger.”

“So do you have feelings-”

“No! I did not say that-” He pointed at George with a stern look.

“It’s okay to admit to having feelings, Lockwood. We get it, she looked at you in a way you liked, and now you want to pursue her.”

“Pursue her? Oh god…” Lockwood's face scrunched with irritation. He ran a hand down his face to hopefully relieve him of George’s stupidity. 

“Oi, would you shut the fucking door. You’re letting the cold in!” Lucy hissed. Her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself warm. Lockwood obliged, leaning back against it. Lucy’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two. Her eyes narrow. “What’s going on with you two? What’s with all the shouting?”

“Lockwood fancies Arif’s new delivery girl.” George smirks.

“I do not-” Lockwood closes his eyes. He tries but knows his attempts will be for nothing. Once George and Lucy set their minds onto something, it will take them an annoying amount of time to surpass it. He doesn’t bother at this point. He just bangs his head back against the wooden door.

“Holy shit, Arif’s hired a new girl?” Oh now she was definitely enlightened by the situation. “Is she pretty?”

“Lockwood thinks so, don’t you Lockwood?” George and Lucy’s eyes fall onto Lockwood consistently banging the back of his head.

“Oh shit, he definitely does!” Lucy chimes in. A laugh of disbelief emits past her lips. “This is great!”

Lockwood pushes off the door and brushes past the two, making his way up to his room to escape their taunts and teasing. “I hate you both!” He calls out to them as he ascends grumpily.

“Okay, now you’ve got to tell me every little detail!” Lucy exclaims, pulling on George’s wrist in the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare, George!” Lockwood calls out from the second floor.

-

When Lockwood begins to linger on the idea of him having a liking towards you. It happens after a few more deliveries are made that he caves and wants to see you again. When he wanders into the kitchen and sees the old order of doughnuts finished, his mind is made up. The bag is weightless as he lets it fall back down onto the tabletop. He bites his lips, pondering his options. He releases a sigh knowing that he could either grab the phone and call up the shop, or make the seven minute walk over. His eyes cast over to the light falling through the window. Beautiful day, he thinks.

“Where are you off to?” George calls after him as Lockwood pushes past him, walking out the kitchen.

In a hasty response Lockwood says. “Going to get us some doughnuts. We’re out!” Then the front door slams shut behind him.

“What was that all about?” Lucy gestures to Lockwood’s exit. He gestures over her shoulder as she walks in and takes a seat in her designated chair. 

“He says we’re out of doughnuts…” George’s brows furrow. Confused since the bag still had a few left, last he recalled, but as he picked up the paper bag, no traces of the delights were to be seen.

“We’re not out. I hid the rest in the cupboard.” Lucy picks up a biscuit to bite down on. Her easy relaxed features meet George’s perplexed then turned smirk.

“Oh, you’re good!” He praises Lucy. He points at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You planned this.”

“He wasn’t going to leave on his own accord. Had to do something to make him visit Arif’s.” George only hums in response. He looks over his shoulder.

“You said you hid them in the cupboard?”

“Mhmm.” Lucy nods up. Her finger gesturing forward. “Still there. Saved you a strawberry jelly one.”

“Thanks...” George’s smile curls upward. Walking over to retrieve the flour doughed circles.

-

You were in the midst of bidding a customer a good day, and handing over their bag full of delicious choices you convinced them to try, when the shop bell chimes overhead of the door. You looked up right as a familiar silhouette swaggered in, only this time, he adorned a long black coat, and that signature smile of his you grew to know over the month of delivering to him.

His eyes remained on you, a soft grin mirroring your own as he walked up to the counter. His eyes only faltered when they cast to the display cases, then they were right back on you. He breathed out. “Hello.” 

“Hi!” You beam. Your bottom lip was hiding under your top. Your eyes shamelessly eyed him from head to toe slowly. Lockwood doing the same as he leaned on his hands he pressed against the edge of the counter. The sight of him never failed to make your heart full, and your mind gooey. You were really starting to believe that his requests for another order was to get the chance to see you. How could you not when he opened the door every time? One time you wanted to laugh in disbelief and fondness...you hadn’t even knocked yet before the door was thrown open, your hand lingered in mid air while Lockwood’s eagerness displayed rather visibly. You thought it was cute of him though. Now he was here, physically at the store, standing before you. Words weren’t your guy’s thing, staring, gazing really, seemed to describe whatever this thing between you two was. Longing and pinning for one another through looks because words seemed to fail you every time.

You hadn’t registered how long your prolonged staring towards each other went on until sweet Ms. Chide’s voice rang out behind the tall brunette. She startled you both out of your dazes. “Hello, dear it’s your turn to order.” Lockwood looked back and then down at the woman. He breathed out a laugh then turned to meet your embarrassed state. You both laughed it off quietly. Embarrassed as you both were caught staring at one another. He looked through his eyelashes, hooded eyes glistening with a mischievous glint. You weren’t doing anything explicit but you might as well been, practically drinking in the presence of the other. Lovestruck and desired lingering stares. Hardly appropriate for the public, you smirked.

“Ah yes, thank you!” He looked back at you. “It is my turn...” He trailed off slowly.

“What would you like?” You ask him. Yet you have his order memorized by this point. He gets the same thing everytime. Sometimes you wonder if he, George, and Lucy are scared to venture from their regular order. Though you like to know that they know what they want. But what exactly did Lockwood want? With you at least.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he struggles.

“I would like...well more of a want really-” He breathes out a nervous laugh. You only smile and encourage him with a nod. 

“Yes?”

“You see the real reason I came was because I-” He readjusts his stance. Unable to form a sentence. “I want...Would you like to-”

“Oh for heaven's sake!” You both turn to Ms. Chide, astonished by her outburst. “The lad wants to ask you out on a date dear.” Lockwood opens his mouth, rendered speechless. He whips his head back to you. He tries to laugh it out but he’s turned into a mess. Your eyes grow with hope and timidness. You were certainly not expecting that. 

“You want to ask me on a date?” You test the waters.

“No!” Your heart sinks for that mere second. “No, I do. That is what I want. That’s what I came here to do- just not like that.” He motions behind him, then throws the poor woman a fake smile. He turns to meet your doe eyes. “The gesture was supposed to be better handled. In some way I even hoped...romantic.” His shoulders slump. 

“Then ask me...” You shrug. The tilt of your head makes his heart flutter.

“Yeah?” His grin widens.

“Yeah!” You breathe out a laugh.

“Would you like to go on a date...with me?” 

“When?” You beam.

“When?” His eyes widened. He hoped for a yes, but now you wanted a date and time. He places his hands on his hips, and blows a raspberry. He quirks an eyebrow then smirks up at you. “When are you off?”

“Six.” You mess with the front pockets of your white apron.

“Would you like to go on a date with me at six then?” The corner of his lips lift a little. 

“I would love to.” Your eyes crinkle at the edges. Your heart feels full, and everything feels like it's going good for once.

“Will you be taking his order now, dear?” 

You try to stifle the laugh that threatens to slip out. Yours and Anthony’s eyes meet. He lets out a scoff which then is followed by a laugh. He steps off to the side, and gestures for her to take his current spot.

“You’ve been waiting very patiently ma’am, please.” Ms. Chide thanks him. 

“He’s a keeper dear. Don’t let this one slip away.” She points to no one in particular, only trying to make her point.

“I’ll try not to...” You answer her, but your eyes remain locked at the tall brunette casting you his charming signature grin.

-

Anthony’s words echo in your mind. You spent the past two hours checking your watch, hoping to see him running towards the shop to take you on an official date, but now it seems you were being stood up. You wanted to laugh at yourself.

Ms. Chide having been the one to push Anthony to ask you. Did he even want to ask you out though? You weren’t sure anymore, you were growing doubtful.

“Y/n?” Your head snaps towards Arif who was fixing the collar of the jacket he put on. Oh he was still here, you thought. He was closing tonight instead of Brian. His bewildered eyes meet your tired sleepy ones. “What are you still doing here? You should be home by now. Do you know what time it is? The warning countdown for six was two hours ago! What are you thinking, child?” You avoid his eyes, yet you know he only means well. He was the only adult figure in your life right now that seemed to care for your well being. This also meant he had the tendency to scold you for things such as not being home for curfew, which you had yet to understand why there was one to begin with. You lift your head from your palm and sit up straighter. You looked out into the darkened street through the windows. Then down to your wristwatch. It was five past eight. Anthony was nowhere to be seen. You sigh heavily.

“Thinking I got my hopes up apparently...” You mutter out in disappointment. Arif’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“I was waiting for someone, Arif.” You look up at him tiredly. Brushing your situation with a wave of your hand, a way to tell him it was nothing. “I should’ve known better. I’ll make sure I don’t miss curfew tomorrow. Swear.” You cross your heart in a playful manner. 

“You should be home, not here. It’s late.”

“Yeah so...” You shrug looking out the windows. Arif pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You just should’ve been home, Y/n. No questions asked. It’s not safe after six.”

“You keep saying it’s not safe, but you don’t tell me why.” You frown. “Why can’t someone be out after six? What’s with the damn bloody curfew?” You stand up, fed up at this point. “No one tells me anything around here!” You flail your arms around. 

“It’s just not safe out there. There’s things out there that you’re not aware of that-”

“Then tell me!” Your shoulders drop. Your trust in Arif starts to slowly dissolve as he remains quiet. His eyes averted themselves elsewhere. You nod, accepting his silence. “Fine, don't tell me...I’ll see you at home.” You grab your bag and make your way out the door. The bell chimes overheard announcing your exit.

“No, Y/n, come back inside. It’s not safe. Y/n!” Arif calls after you from the opened door. He watches you walk off into the night. No signs of life present because everyone else was safely kept inside their homes. No one, taking the risk of being out in the open and exposed to the danger that lurked. That could kill. You were vulnerable and Arif just let you walk out. “Shit!” He growls. Just as he stepped foot back into the shop, he was startled by a hand that smacked against the glass. Arif closes his eyes, hands over his heart as he tries to come back from the almost heart attack. Lockwood, clearly out of breath, pulls the door open. He gasps and takes huge intakes of air. “What the hell are you doing boy?” He scolds him.

“I’m late!” His eyes observe the dark empty shop. “I’m an idiot. I forgot about our date.” He gestures to the shop. His face pinches as he feels a burn in his lungs. He hunches over, hands on his knees. Arif was unaware of such a thing, though looking back to where you were previously sat. Your words start to make sense as they echo in his mind.

I was waiting for someone, Arif. I should’ve known better. He closes his eyes, gesturing to the front door.

“You’ve just missed her.”

“What?”

“She’s been waiting on you for two hours, Lockwood. She’s just left home.”

“She was still here?” The realization weighs in on him as he notices the table with the chair pulled out by the entrance. “She’s walking?” He starts to panic.

“You need to go after her. It’s not safe for her alone.”

“Shouldn’t you have stopped her? She was here! You of all people should know better.”

Arif refuses to meet his eyes. Anthony stands up taller. A seriousness edged in his tone as he asked. “You haven’t told her?”

“I'm surprised you haven’t.”

“I was waiting for the right time.” Anthony defends.

“And when exactly is it ever going to be the right time? When she’s on the brink of death? God, I don’t know what to do with her...” Arif lifts his head. A defeated look falls over his face. He mindlessly mumbles. “That girl came in one morning asking for a job. Nothing but a duffle and a backpack on her. Still won’t tell me what she’s running from.” This intrigues Anthony. His brows furrow. He too found you odd at times. No moral backstory from you ever. He didn’t even know where you lived until last week. Now there were questions arising.

“You think she ran from something?” A tinge of worry falls over Lockwood.

“I think that if the bruises on her forearms she tries to hide from me are anything to be concerned over. I’d say I believe she is- was.” He corrects. He walks over to your seat you filled early on and sits down.

“Bruises you say?” Anthony stiffens. 

Arif sighs and runs a hand down his face and beard. “Purple as can be. Caught a glimpse of them during one of her early on shifts. Poor child...” He trails off, dazing off, then reels back into reality ushering Lockwood away. “Go on. Before it’s too late. You’ll be able to catch her if you run. She’s gone left.” He points to the direction you walked off on.

“Thank you.” Lockwood turns on his heel, but halts hearing Arif’s voice call out.

“Tell her. Don’t keep her in the dark, Lockwood. I thought I was doing her a favor and from the looks of it I wasn’t. You’ve noticed something about her too, to want to keep her from the hell we live in. She deserves to know though, know what it’s really like living here.” Lockwood turns his head, meeting Arif’s eyes with a guilty look glossed over his eyes. 

“In due time. I swear it.” He gives a solemn nod, then pushes the front door open. He looks right, then sprints off left like Arif said. 

-

You should have known better than to wear a small coat, especially with cold nights as this one was. You continued the somewhat long trek home, arms crossed over your chest to provide you warmth. You weren’t even that far from the shop. You had turned the corner and begun walking down the path you’d walk to deliver to Anthony. You had paid his front door a glance, the urge to knock and see if he was home was hard to resist, but you restrained yourself from doing so, then continued on with solemn acceptance. Various thoughts clouded your mind wandering if you had thought too highly of Anthony. That he didn’t really want to ask you out. You kept your head down, but your senses on high alert. You didn’t mind walking home, but you weren’t too keen on getting mugged so you held on tighter to your satchel. 

Could you really call it home? A home that Arif opened up to you when you told him you had nowhere to go. You would’ve figured it out on your own. It’s what you did best. Depend on yourself, because not everyone would be there to hold your hand. You assumed that it might’ve been pity that he took on you, but after spending a whole month with the man, he turned out to be a tolerable friend. Well, you questioned the latter now, seeming as though he felt the need to keep you out of the loop about London, and the existing curfew. You appreciated his concern and his somewhat step in as a father figure, guiding you and offering advice when you needed some, but you knew when to put your foot down. When you knew you had the right to know things, to ask questions...now you didn’t seem so sure.

“Y/n!” You halt in your step. Freezing up as you hear the call of your name. You look ahead, to your right out onto the street, then slowly swivel around to see a clearly tired out Lockwood run up to you. Your scared demeanor relaxes into an annoyed one, you tightened your crossed arms. You roll your eyes, as he reaches out to you. You turn on your heel and continue moving forward. Arif’s place was further down from where Anthony’s home was. Anthony’s smile falls as you refuse to acknowledge his presence. “Y/n, Y/n wait! Please, let me explain. I know that I’ve messed up and I missed our date-” He scrambles after you. Your steps increase in pace, so he does the same to keep up with you. You were visibly pissed off at him, and you had every right to be. He stood you up. He flinches back, stumbling over his feet so as to not fall into you when you abruptly turn to face him. Your eyes narrowed, but your sadness isn’t lost on him. You take one look at him, watching as he tries to compose himself, taking deep breaths. He swallows down his saliva, feeling anxious under your very hurt demeanor. 

“You didn’t show...” You breathe out shakingly. Your eyes begin to water. “W-Why didn’t you show?” You shake your head. “I waited for you!”

“I know...” Guilt rides over his heart. “I know and I’m sorry. I had business to attend to. An agent- a friend of mind. I accompanied her.” He inquires.

Now that was something you never wanted to hear. He had been with another girl, but you couldn’t be angry could you? You weren’t anything serious. If he wasn’t serious about you then...well then. He could see the knobs turn in your head as your shoulders relaxed, your eyes softening, you were accepting something you had no real idea of. He had walked home with Lucy after their fight. He had pleaded with her not to leave Lockwood & Co. They needed her more than anything. Whereas, she made him promise not to lie to her again and things were okay again, for now at least. A few minutes into their walk, he could feel dread swell in his chest. Lucy had stopped to turn to him and watched all color drain from his face. She had asked what was wrong, but he only responded with very colorful profanity, saying he screwed up big time. Saying how he had missed your date. Lucy felt for him, feeling a tad bit guilty, but he reassured her it was his mess alone. Then he had sprinted off towards the shop after making sure Lucy would be fine on her own, they weren’t that far from the house.

“It’s not what you think. I promise.” He shook his head, hands out in front of him, but he kept his distance. 

“What?” You shrug.

“You know what.” He breathed out a laugh. His signature smile graces you, but it falls almost instantly. “I wasn’t with anyone else, just a colleague. I never meant to stand you up.”

“You did though...” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Arif tore my ear off because I hadn’t made it home before curfew.” You huff, rolling your eyes.

“He was right to...” His tone was low and serious. “It’s not safe after six.”

“Why the hell does everyone keep saying that?” You uncross your arms, releasing a long low sigh. He looks at your arms that go limp at your sides, and your lack of eye contact. 

“You really don’t know?”

You throw a narrowed glance at him. He shrinks under your frown. 

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He puts his hands out. “I just find it hard to believe that you really don’t know about what goes on around here.”

"No one tells me anything. I’ve had people laugh at me. Telling me to not ask silly questions.” Your eyes cast up to meet his eyes. He sighs seeing tears brim your waterline. “Why can’t I be out after six? Why even is there a curfew to begin with?”

“Why you?” He mutters under his breath. He takes a step closer.

“Why me what?” You huff out annoyed.

“I don’t understand why you seem to be the only one I’ve come across without the ability to see, hear, or touch ghosts. Then there’s the fact you don’t know about the curfew...” He tilts his head.

“Ghosts? Lockwood what-” You begin but he interrupts you.

“It’s just strange to me.” He slowly lifts his hands to caress the side of your face. You hold your breath for a moment then relax under his touch. “You’re a mystery to me.”

“Why won’t you tell me either?” Your voice shakes. A tear finally falls down your cheek. Lockwood’s is quick to wipe it away. The shake of his head only makes another tear fall. 

“Because I selfishly find your innocence refreshing.” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “For the first time, in a long time, you’ve given me a taste of normalcy, and I don’t want to scare you off with the truth. You shouldn’t be burdened with the reality that ghosts exits.”

“Shouldn’t that be up to me to decide?” You place your hand over his own. “Ghost exist?” Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“You’re pure, good, and far too innocent to have your life ruined by what we deal with. You deserve to live an ordinary life, to be quite honest, we all do.” He smiles sadly.

“I deserve an answer, Anthony. I don’t want to live my life in fear, I would rather be prepared. I want to know things!” You plead. “Please.” The previous conversation with Arif floods his thoughts. The reminder that you were running from something he didn’t know what. Regardless if you were done running, you were still scared, he could see it in the way your eyes widened, your need to wrap your arms around yourself. Creating a barrier. You reflected that of a child. He looks to your broken expression, then past your shoulder. He stills for a brief moment, which you hardly register in time. Then you suddenly hear a loud scratch and sizz. Did he just-

“W-Why did you light that?” You breathe out. Eyes begin to water again. You muster a nervous smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. It falls quickly.

“Would you believe me if I said I can see five shades and three lurkers closing in on us?” He looks past your shoulder again. You follow his gaze but all you can see is a fog of mist evolving. You snap your head back to him. Your lips quiver. You’ve never been more confused. 

“There’s what?” You keep your eyes on him, not wanting to turn around and see nothing, but his growing anxiety tells you otherwise. Something is there. Something only he can see which you can’t. Part of that intrigues him. He has to reel in on the fact that maybe not every kid can hear or see ghosts. You're a prime example of that.

“Type ones. The weakest amongst the rest, and least dangerous grade of ghosts. You have nothing to worry about…” He steps forward, reaching for your hand to grab hold of. He swiftly shifts in front of you, blocking your view in front of the fog. You don't see what he sees. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He looks over to you. “I promise you.”

“If there’s nothing to worry about then what’s with the flare?” You eye it cautiously. 

“Just a precaution. Can never be too careful.” He cast you a charming smile. The wink he gives only barely comforts you. You look back to the fog, curious about what was currently enclosing. A tight squeeze of your hand has you looking back at him. “Let’s get you home yeah…” You give a faint nod then let him take the lead getting you out there. Though you remain in place. Anthony takes a step forward only to be tugged back. He looks at your hands, then up to your face.

“You’ll tell me things won’t you?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want...just not here okay.” He looks over to the fog then tugs at your intertwined hands again. Your reluctance to move though has him sighing. “I won’t keep anything from you, Y/n. I promise you. I won’t lie to you ever again.” 

“Okay...” You nod. Trusting your gut that he would keep his word. You look back over to the fog. Then as curious as you are, you ask him. “What exactly do lurkers and shades look like?” You meet his eyes with a glint of fear behind them. The fog was getting closer.

“Best you don’t know. Come on now.” He shakes his head and rushes you out of there with hurried steps, but the glare you throw at him has him promising you. “I’ll draw you a picture later...”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey!! I was wondering if you could do an Anthony Lockwood x fem reader and could you do these prompts please.

"Your lucky your cute"

"Wait, you think I'm cute"

"Was that your first kiss?"

Please take your time!! I do not want you to rush lol. Thank you!!! P.S I LOVE YOUR LATEST LOCKWOOD FIC.

Well this one took me a bit to get back to lmao but here ya go! 🦦

‘You got hurt again?” You said in disbelief, hauling Lockwood into the kitchen, sitting him into the closest chair by the table whilst you rummaged through cabinets for the first aid kit. ‘It’s not that bad.’ Lockwood replied, thinking he was being reassuring about his situation and sure maybe in some reality it might’ve been, but unfortunately for him that kind of reality only ever exists within ones head.

‘Not that bad?’ You reiterated while making sure to emphasising each word as you stopped your search for the first aid kit temporarily to read your head over your shoulder and stare incredulously at the boy as he stared back, shrugging his shoulders; Only to since when the action pulled at the wound there. “Lockwood! You’ve bleed all over the floor!” You exclaimed, gesturing to the blood trail that lead out into the hallway and up to the front door where you found him beforehand.

“Oh.” He uttered under his breath.

“Yeah, oh.” You spat, turning back to the cabinets, found the first aid kit and brought it with you to the table before cracking it open with a sigh as you brought out the necessities, displaying them out in front of you in the order that you needed them in. Meanwhile Lockwood took notice of how unsteady your hands were as you spaced out the bandages and the fuses from each other. Almost as though you were trying to preoccupy not only your hands but also your mind that of which raced with a million thoughts an minute of the what ifs.

Lockwood didn’t know what made him feel worse, knowing you were worrying yourself to death over him or knowing that he worried you so badly to the point you couldn’t hide your fear without it coming out through your body in one way or another. “Hey.” He says softly, moving his uninjured hand over your own, frowning slightly when he felt the abundance of worry course through your hand from wrist to finger tip. In an effort to console you, Lockwood ran his thumb across your knuckles. “I’m sorry I worried you so much-” “-That an gross understatement.” You muttered. “-but I’m within your hands now,” his hand squeezed yours for emphasis as he smiled softly, “I’m here, I’m safe, I trust you to not break me further.” He finished.

His eyes never strayed from yours the entire time he spoke. In fact his eyes remained glued to them; determined to providing you comfort which was a thing he always did that you weren’t so certain on how you should feel. You didn’t know whether to admire him for it or condemn him for putting the well-being’s of others well before his own. All you did however was sigh deeply, “Anthony Lockwood, your lucky you’re cute.” Once the words left your mouth, you felt the ice cold fear spread within your chest, forcing the air from your lungs, leaving you breathless.

You didn’t know what to do and it seemed that neither did your body as it involuntarily froze on itself purely out of impulse. Your throat was close to clogging up and becoming tight with anxiety as you manage to force out an, ‘ignore that.’ Unaware of the boyish grin that overtook Lockwood’s face as he leant closer. “Wait, you think I’m cute?” He asked, smile growing somewhat even wider as his eyes, that were usually a lot darker in colour, were now bright and reinvigorated with new life. “And I said ignore that!” You exclaimed, becoming a tad more embarrassed at your current circumstances.

“I’ve made things awkward between us, I get it, but can we please pretended that I never said what I said. At least long enough for me to patch you up so we can move on from this in blissful ignorance.” You rambled, averting your eyes from his in turn to look at a particular area of the thinking cloth as though it’s contents held all the answers you needed in this very moment. You knew you felt something for Lockwood but now that it was out thanks to your unfiltered mouth, you never felt more disgusted in the feelings you’ve long harboured for your employer and friend. It felt taboo and wrong from a workplace standpoint but it felt just as weird and unwarranted from a friendship standpoint; It didn’t matter how you looked at it because in the end all you could see ahead was anything but good.

Lockwood frowned deeply. “Who said you made things awkward between us?” You didn’t answer, too preoccupied with how advantageous it would be to go invisible right now. “You can’t avoid this y/n.” He attempts again to trick you into conversation but once again you didn’t make a peep, completely immersed in the logic that of you were to avoid the topic of conversation then it didn’t exist. However with Lockwood wanting to get to the depth of it didn’t make avoiding it’s existence any better. “Can you at least look at me?” Lockwood said, exasperated.

Silence permeated the kitchen as the sounds of your breathing were the only thing filling your ears other then the blood rushing through them. Both of you were desperate for opposing reasons and weren’t willing to give into the others whims so easily considering how stubborn you both were. You didn’t want Lockwood to know the truth.He was determined in getting to the truth without having to push you to uncomfortable levels to get it; There was a silent tug of war going on and at some point one of you were going to have to given in.

When you heard Lockwood sigh, you thought he had finally had enough and was about to leave the room to find George or Lucy to patch him up instead but when you felt a hand slide under your chin, cradling your jaw as though it were made out of porcelain, forcing it up so that you were back to being eye level with Lockwood. “There you are.” He cooed, his thumb rubbed against your jawline softly. “Why can’t you just let this go,” you spoke, “why does it matter so much to you to know whether or not what I said was genuine?”

His hand crept to the back of back of your head, cushioning it with his palm as he slowly brought you in close when Lockwood noticed that there weren’t much restraint on your behalf, allowing him to rest his forehead against yours. “There’s a reason for that love, but I prefer to show then tell but that’s only applicable if this is alright with you.” He says, looking deep within your eyes for hesitance, for rejection, for anything that told him to stop while he was ahead but instead he just you. Beautiful, beautiful you staring back at him. “Won’t you regret it afterwards?” You asked, taking in how you were locked in a situation where he was all you could see, all you could smell, all you could hear, all you could feel; So much so that anything outside of him didn’t matter in that moment that not even the sound of your heart and the sudden hitch in your breath didn’t register with you.

Nothing other then Anthony Lockwood felt real to you.

“Regret something I’ve been yearning to do for a long while now? Never.” He told you before moving in to press his lips against yours. They’re simultaneously soft and chapped but to a degree where despite their contrasting feel, they made for the most unique experience. Upsettingly for you the kiss finished as soon as it started when you felt Lockwood start to pull away with a dopey grin. “Was…was that your first kiss?” He asked and once again you felt a tad embarrassed. “Yeah…” you trailed off, about to look away from him again when he moved his head so he would still be within your line of sight.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He tells you, still smiling like a goofball. “That just means we got plenty more opportunities to practice in the future.” You smacked his uninjured arm at the insinuation of his words, causing him to laugh, before bringing yourself back to reality as to why you were brought here to begin with as you gasped.

“What, what is it?” Lockwood asked on high alert.

“You’re still fucking injured!” You cried.

Lockwood only smirked, “was our first kiss as a couple that magical that it made you forget my injuries?” He obviously wasn’t taking this as seriously as you were. Typical Lockwood behaviour.

“Anthony Lockwood I swear to fucking god, I’ll sow your mouth shut-“ “then how will you kiss me if my mouth is sewn shut?” Anthony cuts you off cheekily, enjoying the effect he was currently having over you.

“I fucking hate you.” You tell him as you start clearing the wound on his arm, smiling to yourself whenever you felt him flinch beneath you. Serves the fucker right for teasing you.

[downbadf0rficppl]

let me

Anthony Lockwood x F!Reader

Summary: You got hurt. It was his fault. And he feels absolutely awful.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Angst, Claustrophobia, Near-death situations, Some lightly mentioned family issues, Arguing, Couples? Quarrels, ANGST.

AN: The summary is awful - I feel like I say this every time. Idk if Reader and Lockwood are a couple, they don't have to be, but they can be if you want to. Love you all! (BTW I have not read the books in years so creative liberties were taken - I'm sorry for any and all book inaccuracies.)

Repost

The body of one 'Sergeant M. Bowers' floated precariously towards Lockwood. He backed up against the door of the bedroom, eyes darting between you and Bowers, rapier extended in front of him. You rifled through the bedroom, looking for anything precious or valuable. You had to find the source for Lockwood.

Lockwood had taken the case of this particular house out of pure greed. Mrs. Miller was willing to pay a pretty price to take care of her 'little problem' as she called it. You had warned him against it - the Bowers' manor was about a mile outside of the town you grew up in and you'd heard almost every story there was to hear about the house. About the family that inhabited the house. Lockwood hadn't listened.

He'd convinced you to come, saying the stories were 'probably just stories told to children to scare them away.' He assured you they weren't true. After George had done his research, you were more confident - apparently, reports of apparitions of children predated the problem and were therefore hoaxes.

The Bowers were an affluential aristocratic family before the war - the First World War, that is. "They were known for hosting Gatsby-esque parties to celebrate the most menial of affairs - like their dog turning one." George had rolled his eyes at that pushing the picture of the newspaper your way. April 6th, 1912. A week before the Titanic sank.

The sinking of the Titanic began a series of unfortunate events for the Bowers family, starting with the death of the youngest son, James. James and his to-be wife, Miranda, died aboard the ship, thrusting the family into a long period of mourning. In the following two years, 6 of the 12 members who lived in the house had passed away, forcing the rest to flee the countryside manor, claiming it had been cursed - which brought about the misfortune of the family.

The last of the family to inherit the manor was Sergeant Michael James Bowers, who was the youngest nephew of James. He had lost his life in the second World War; after being shot in the arm and leg, he had been honourably discharged and sent home. He succumbed to sepsis not long after, surrounded by empty halls and unhappy memories. Apparently, he had never left.

You shook your head in discomfort - dispelling the dark feeling that had crept over you since reading about the family's terrible fate. Something seemed off about this case - something seemed to have been omitted from all the research you and George had done.

At first, you disregarded it as nerves. The Bowers manor was big - bigger than any other case you had taken. Plus, it was close to home, which was full of unpleasant memories. Maybe the added pressure was playing on your mind. You tried to explain yourself to Lockwood, who dismissed you. Apparently, Lucy had to help Kipps with some research, and George was working on another case. There was no point in arguing with Lockwood when he had made up his mind, and he was not going to budge on this case.

Which led you to your current predicament.

There were many ghosts haunting the halls of the Bowers manor. It seemed that everyone who had died here didn't want to leave. You had rid the house of most of the ghosts - sealing almost ten sources in different iron boxes. Lockwood had danced his way through the Type Ones that he was dealing with - he was evidently the better agent out of the two of you. You had lucked out - you came face to face with a Type Two. The small girl kept repeating about her teddy which you had found in an upstairs bedroom covered in filth and cobwebs. You threw an iron net over it before leaning against a wall to catch your breath. You were exhausted - and you hadn't even dealt with the real problem.

Sergeant Bowers.

Sergeant M. Bowers was a lot more tortured than you had initially thought. His wife left him when he left for the war, leaving to follow her true love into the country - countless correspondences scattered across the rooms told you as much.

Then came the matter of a child - Timothy. Pictures of him were littered through the halls - toys left to rot in the hallways. Clearly, no one had cleaned it until Mrs. Miller bought it at that country house auction. Except the trace of him ended there. There was nothing in your research to tell you about him, nor any sign of him outside the walls of this home.

It was peculiar.

You had tried to tell Lockwood, but he brushed you off. "The kid must have died - explains the tortured relationship between his parents."

It seemed odd to you. What kind of mother would run off without her child?

A glint caught your eye. A small jewellery box lay on the vanity, dust laid over it as if it hadn't been touched in decades. You dashed towards it, opening it quickly to find a simple silver band inside. A wedding band. A source.

You placed the ring in a small iron box - one of your many engineering feats that made your job safer and easier to do. Bowers disappeared from over Lockwood and you ran over to help him up.

"See? Not too bad, was it?" Lockwood joked, taking the box from your hand and putting it in his bag with the rest of them.

"The only reason I'm glad we don't work with Fittes is the paperwork. We'd be drowning in it after tonight. Can you imagine? With all those Type Ones and the two Type Twos. I'd be crying into my pillow for weeks." You grabbed the rest of your equipment and headed towards the stairs. Lockwood's fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you back sharply.

He pulled out his rapier and pointed it toward the woman - an apparition of a young woman, dressed in a maid's uniform and carrying a basket, seemingly full of laundry.

"Another Type Two. Great." Lockwood sighed, "You check downstairs and I'll check upstairs. She's a maid. Look for... maid things? I don't know." You nodded before hopping downstairs, armed with your rapier.

You went down to the servants' quarters, which you had seen on the blueprints of the house. The room was small, just off the side of the kitchen - and was perhaps the cleanest room in the house. The maids had been let go long before Sergeant Bowers had inherited the house. Clearly, they had taken the cleanliness with them.

You looked around for anything that could be a source. Why would staff die here, you thought, when the Bowers were known for treating staff well? And why would she choose to stay? You walked around the room, running your fingers over the sparse wooden furniture around the room, leaving trails in the dust in your wake. You tripped by the door to the bathroom, cutting your hand on a small loose nail by the door - probably used for hanging coats or aprons. You winced as you stretched your hand, closing your fist to stop the blood from dripping all over the floor.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs. "Did you find anything, Lockwood?" No response. "Lockwood?" The door to the servants' quarters slammed shut. You pressed up against the door, trying to force it open. "LOCKWOOD? LOCKWOOD, HELP!" You screamed, trying to push the door hard. "LOCKWOOD, PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

Lockwood called to you from the landing, telling you he's found something interesting. You tried screaming for him again, but he was too far away to hear you, just like you were too far away to help. Ghostly yelling startled you as you turned around. The maid was here, clearly oblivious to you in the room. She was humming softly as the ghostly yelling continued.

You watched her from a distance as she folded some invisible clothes, her humming still ringing out around the room. She laughed at nothing, before turning towards the door, expectantly. You turned towards the door, expecting to see some other apparition in the doorway but there was nothing. She seemed to get frantically worried by the lack of whatever presence she is expecting, her humming becoming erratic and eerier by the second.

Her eyes grazed over you, and she seemed to relax. She spoke to you gently, reaching her hand out to you, "Come, Elizabeth. There's no need to be scared." You felt the effects of Ghost-lock wash over you, as lethargy numbs your senses. You saw her drifting toward you, but you had no energy to run or even to poise your rapier in front of you. And she seems so nice.

You heard the door fly open and felt someone grab your arm, tightly. You were pulled out of the room and back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Anthony." You whispered, resting on the kitchen counters.

"Anthony? Who's Anthony?" You looked up, unamused by Lockwood's attempt at a joke.

Your jaw dropped. In front of you was a man that you thought you may never see again, "Grandpa? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard you screaming. Just wanted to make sure you're okay?" He said, eyes looking you over, searching for injuries. You hid your arm further behind your back, not wanting to worry him more.

He brought his hand up to brush your cheek, staring down at you lovingly. "I'm sorry about this, kiddo."

You felt hands pulling you up off the floor, and a strangely familiar voice whispering soothing words in your ear. You struggled in the grasp of this strange person, trying - unsuccessfully - to flee. They held you firmly, arms tucked neatly beneath you.

Tired from your busy night, you gave up, resting your head against the person's chest. You knew this cologne. It was Anthony's - you teased him for putting on too much and the scent lingers in the hallways some mornings. You settled, seeking his warmth and his comfort.

"Nice to have you back. You worried me for a minute back there."

"Lockwood? Worried? God, are there pigs in the sky?" You bantered back, your voice weak with exhaustion. He laid you down on the stairs, running back to grab your rapier and your flares. You must have dropped them when your Grandpa showed up. Grandpa?

Where did he go? You stood up trying to walk back to the kitchen. Grandpa couldn't see any apparitions - if one came for him, he'd be as good as dead.

"Whoa, slow down, Usain Bolt." Lockwood caught you as your legs folded beneath you. "You took a nasty hit to the head, plus you might have had a bit of ghost-lock as well."

"Lockwood, my grandpa," You said, looking past him, and back at the kitchen door, "He can't see them. We have to help him."

"Your grandpa? Honey, there's no one here." The nickname fell on deaf ears. You tried to scramble back towards the room, but Lockwood held you tightly.

He walked with you back to the kitchen - to prove there was no one there. There was no sign of anyone being there - nothing at all.

"Look - there's no one else here. You must have hit your head while getting away from the maid. Just," He huffed, pulling you closer to him, "let me get you home. Let me check you over - make sure you're alright."

You let Lockwood drag you towards the taxi and push you inside. You let him maneuver your body so that your head is resting on his chest and your legs dangle over his. You let him carry you like a rag doll into the house and set you down in the kitchen.

You shivered slightly - involuntarily - but Lockwood noticed. He draped a large blanket over you, boiling some water for hot tea. He grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and sat down in front of you.

He held out his hand for yours, "Let me clean it for you." So you do.

He spent the better part of the next hour meticulously cleaning every scratch and scrape he can find - only slowing down when you wince, or to pour you more tea. He makes it how you like it - a spoonful of sugar and a dash of milk

Once he's done, he lifts you again and carries you to bed, tucking you in like a mother would their child. He turns out the lights with a soft goodnight and crosses the landing to his own bedroom. The first floor is plunged into darkness, but you stare up at the ceiling.

Sleep doesn't come to you easily. When you close your eyes, the maid's face is above yours - her hand reaching out to you, beckoning you. You want to take it. You see her holding Elizabeth, cradling her as she cries. Your grandpa's face comes up next to the maid and you see your grandpa die. How he screams for you to help him as the plasm burns through his skin. Your mother blames you - tells you that she should never have let you go to Fittes. The maid shields Elizabeth from the loud arguing coming from upstairs. No, not from upstairs. The arguing is happening below you. You shake yourself awake from your restless night, wincing as you contort your bruised body. You slip on your Fittes hoodie and creep downstairs.

Lucy and Lockwood are facing off in the kitchen. Again. You sit on the step, listening in.

"She told you she didn't want to go! And now, there's a chance she won't be able to go into the field."

"She'll be fine. She's tough, she'll get through it."

"You don't know that, Lockwood! You can't just assume that everything will be fine just because you want it to be." You could hear Lucy's voice breaking as she fought back tears.

"Maybe, she won't want to go on missions anymore," George piped up. Clearly, he'd been forced to sit there through breakfast and listen to the argument, "After all, you didn't listen to her doubts when she said she was scared."

"No, she didn't. She just had nerves."

"No, Lockwood. I was terrified. And you didn't hear me out."

"You're awake!" Lucy threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly. "God, I'm so happy you're okay!" You smiled at her warmly, hugging her back. She moved past you, saying something about needing to meet Kipps to finish their case.

"I'd hug you too, but you should probably shower first. Who knows what kind of bacteria fester in hundred-year-old manors? I'll see you after lunch - heading to the archives." George walked out quickly, almost as if he was being chased out by rats.

Lockwood stood in front of you, straight as a board, "You look like you've been electrocuted. Sit down. I'm not going to bite." Lockwood sent a weak smile in your direction.

You poured yourself a mug of tea and put some bread in the toaster. You made a mental note to send George a shopping list before he came back.

"So..." Lockwood started, and you wanted to laugh. In the almost three years you'd lived with him, you'd never seen him so nervous.

"So?"

"We should probably talk about what happened back there." Ah. He wanted to do this now.

"Yeah. We probably should."

"What happened? I mean, one minute you were fine, the next you were unconscious in the kitchen?" Lockwood said, leaning back in his chair slightly.

You grabbed your mug and sat in the chair opposite him, "Was I, though?" Lockwood raised his eyebrows, "Was I really fine, Lockwood, or did you just want me to be fine?"

"I don't understand?"

"Lockwood, I voiced my doubts to you! I told you to let it go! That this was a case we didn't have to take! That we'd find something better." You were standing now, leaning over the table, staring Lockwood down.

"Worth more than 90 grand? Do you have any concept of how much money that is?"

"YES! YES, LOCKWOOD, I DO! IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOUGH MONEY! We fought how many ghosts? 10? 12? Do you even consider that?"

"14, actually."

"YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOURSELF. YOU MAY BE THE LITTLE PRODIGY OF FITTES, BUT SOME OF US ARE NORMAL. SOME OF US ARE AVERAGE." You sat back down, your legs shaking. You were still too weak to force this argument. Your voice trembled, "I can't keep up with you, Lockwood, none of us can. Lucy, maybe, but even she needs a break. Hell, even you need a break sometimes."

"We're fine, aren't we? We're all alive and kicking, still fighting ghosts another day?"

"Yeah, but for how long? How long do we keep getting to cheat death?" How long until one of us gets buried for the unnecessary risks we keep taking? You didn't say it but the question took root in the back of your mind.

Lockwood sighed, "I don't know where this is even coming from. We survived. We did the job. We got our money. Aren't you happy-"

"HAPPY! HOW CAN I BE HAPPY, LOCKWOOD? I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT HOUSE YESTERDAY! One minute, we were sealing up a source, the next I was being lured in by a Type Two, ghost-locked and bleeding. Somehow, my GRANDPA WAS THERE, AND THEN I'M UNCONCIOUS ON THE FLOOR. NONE OF IT MAKES SENSE, nothing - nothing makes sense. I feel - I feel like my brain's been scrambled. It just - I can't - I don't-" Lockwood kneeled next to you, his palm gently cradling your face, and let you cry. You stayed there for a few seconds before you looked up into his face, eyes brimming with tears, "You know what the - what the worst part was?"

"What was the worst part, honey?" There it was again, the nickname. Your heart skipped slightly at the sound of it.

"That you couldn't hear me." Lockwood looked at you, pain sweeping over his expression. "I called for you. In the servants' quarters. I needed you, but you couldn't hear me. I screamed and I cried and I begged and I- I needed you, Lockwood."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, before stroking your hair. You cried into his shirt, the white fabric turning translucent in the dampness.

"I will always come." He whispered to you, eyes bright with determination. "I may not have always been there before, but I will be now. I promise. No matter where or when, if you call, I will come to you." He cradled your face in his hands again, thumbs gently rubbing away your tears, "I will listen to you - and George, and Lucy. If you tell me you're scared, I'll hear you. I won't take jobs out of greed, we'll make decisions together. We're a team. I'm sorry I haven't been acting like it."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking yourself into his neck, "I like the sound of that."

You felt Lockwood smile against your neck. "I'll take care of you. If you'll let me."

You pulled back, "Taking care of each other goes both ways. You have to let me take care of you too." He scoffed lightly, but you knew that he had agreed. He couldn't ever say no to you. Not even at Fittes.

"As much as I hate to ruin the moment, George was right. I don't want to think about how much bacteria was probably growing in that house." Lockwood helped you up, "You should probably shower." You nodded your head, chuckling lightly. You grabbed Lockwood's phone from the table and before he could steal it back, you sent a text on the group chat.

"We need food. PLS. WE HAVE NOTHING." You threw him his phone as you ran up the stairs. Lockwood laughed at the text.

"They'll know it's you." He said waving his phone as you grabbed your towel.

"Or they'll have a heart attack knowing that Frosty can change his mind."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[t2sh0]

Gorgeous.

( this is my first fic so I REALLY dont know what I'm doing on here but I tried ! hope anyone who reads this likes it and if not I'm always open to constructive criticism !) @novelizt !!

---

Anthony John Lockwood was all i've ever known. An enigmatic being with a certain wish for death masked by the thrill for adventure and lust for adrenaline.

I had first encountered him when I was a child, merely five years old but as I saw him- cheeks tinted rose, hefty winter coat guarding him from the fall of the snow, I knew. I knew that he was the one.

At this moment I feel as though that thought was a lapse of judgement. Anthony john lockwood was cruel and harsher than I imagined. On a normal day I would never have said this but at this moment I wanted to scream,cry and tell him just how idiotic and stupid I think he is but I knew I couldn't.

It all started when we were returning from a particularly rough case. We were all tired and some nasty words were exchanged.

We returned to Portland row, home after a particularly gruesome case there was an unusual silence between us as we all settled into our usual seats. The tension in the air lay so thick that it could've been cut by a knife.

"anyone fancy a cuppa?" asked the knife (aka George)

I didn't reply. neither did anyone else. I could feel his gaze burning the side of my face. I shot up from the comfortable chair.

"I'm tired." I said, but when I looked into his eyes I knew he was able to see through me. I dragged my body to my room as I face planted onto my bed.

I layed in the same position for a few more moments when I heard footsteps. I could recognize them anywhere. These were the footsteps of Anthony John Lockwood.

He knocked on my door and waited for me to acknowledge that he was coming in. He walked in and sat across me on my bed. He was silent,something I was not very used to from him. This boy was a chatterbox, could never shut up about things he was passionate about.

"I'm sorry" were the first two words he uttered. They were quiet,barely a mumble but I understood nonetheless.

"for what?" I replied.

" what do you mean for what?"

"what do you mean what do I mean for what?"

he inhaled sharply, "I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I shouldn't have said what I did. We all have reckless moments, our screwups but I want you to understand that I just dont want you to get hurt. I care for you so so much and if something happened to you I don't-"

He was cut off by my lips pressing against his. I dont know how that confidence possessed me in that moment but I couldn't be more glad. He kissed back. His lips soft and sweet against my own. We went on for a few minutes parting every few seconds to beam at each other.

I finally pulled away, Anthony John Lockwood slightly groaning at the loss of my lips. I moved over to sit on his lap as I gently rested my forehead against his. I felt a certain sense of ease wash over me. Everything felt right.

" I love you" I whispered softly, trying not to break the silence.

" I love you too"

" I'm scared, Anthony"

"what's wrong?" he asked, tone filled with care and concern.

"After what happened today, I'm afraid to lose you too"

" you'll never lose me, my love. cant get rid of me that easy now." he said with a teasing tilt of his voice.

" And I never want to" I say as I grin down at him

Anthony was leaning in to kiss me again. It all felt like a dream. Our lips were just inches from each other right when Ms. Lucy Carlyle deamed fit to bust open the door, silenced when she saw the compromising position Lockwood and I were in. She grinned.

" So how long has this been going on" gesturing toward the slim gap between me and lockwood. She watched us with a grin as I fumbled with my words, searching for the right answer.

" What is taking you so long?" came another voice interrupting you. This voice belonged to no other than George Karim, who gasped when he saw me trying to escape from Lockwoods lap as his hands kept me in place.

I looked at him as he smiled at me. I could hear a snarky remark made by the curly haired boy but I didnt care because when I looked at Anthony, his eyes glossy with a look of pure adoration I didnt care. Anthony John Lockwood loved me, I loved him too. That's all that really mattered.

[thisgameissonintendo]

i feel so honored whenever writers use my gifs for their fics like thank you for your art, i could never

[wordsarelife]

could you write anthony lockwood x reader? he‘s a tease and annoying the reader and she get’s frustrated about his behaviour and starts to ignore him so he tries to make up by making her breakfast every morning.

i got inspired by the scene where lockwood cuts the toast for lucy. It’s literally so sweet.

—king of my heart

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: there was always this flirty banter between them, without anything ever happening. one day the reader grows tired of it and leaves lockwood to make a choice

warnings: sexual themes, mentions of sex but no smut or anything

note: everyone is grown up, it’s more an AU after the events of the first season

also: please request more!! i’m so thrilled to write!!!

“shit, you look hot” Anthony muttered, when he saw you standing in the doorway. you grew flustered at the compliment and send him a lopsided grin.

“stop looking at me like that or we have to go back home” he teased before he walked up to you and placed a lingering kiss on her your cheek, intensely looking into your eyes before he left you standing alone

the longest you remember your relationship with the agency head had always been like that. you met at training and you were the first person he thought of when starting the agency.

of course you were on board from the very start.

nothing ever actually happened between you two, but Anthony liked to say those things to you, getting you flustered. after some time you started returning the favor, but you actually meant the things you said, you couldn’t say that for him surely. the first time you had done it, you were sure Anthony was at the verge of passing out

“fuck” he had muttered upon your sight “you don’t know half of the things i’d like to do to you”

you had walked up next to him, until he was feeling your breath on the side of his head, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “don’t be shy, baby” then you did as he always did and placed a lingering kiss onto his cheek.

the teasing and flirting was a red string throughout your whole relationship. it didn’t stop after George came along and also not after Lucy joined.

Lucy had often questioned George on the thing you and Anthony had going on. George would always just shrug his shoulders and explain that it was always like that. it didn’t take long for Lucy to grow used to your unusual banter.

it’s not that you didn’t like the things Anthony was saying to you, it actually made the butterflies in your stomach get active even more, but never did something actually happen, not more than a chaste kiss to the cheek.

after some time you grew frustrated. you put so much work in the supposedly relationship with Anthony, you had never pursued anything or anyone else for that matter. at the same time Anthony didn’t seem to grasp onto the concept that you wanted him to do these things to you, that you didn’t want himself from holding back to kiss you.

these mixed signals annoyed you to no end, so one day you finally snapped.

“hey sexy” Anthony leaned in your doorframe watching as you were reading on your bed

“not now, Lockwood” you muttered

the boy raised his eyebrows at the name. you never called him that, you never even called him Anthony. since you guys had met, you had always ever called him tony, or baby, which he found much more endearing and told you to use more often. so it actually became his new nickname

“what?” he asked confused “no baby?”

you rolled your eyes but ignored what he was saying, so he stepped into the room

“i wish i could take off your shirt-“

he stopped when he met your glaring eyes. he thought he was in for scolding, but you just stood up, walking closer

“do it, then” you said

and his breath hitched in his throat. he was used to you entertaining his teasing, but you had never looked so serious while doing so

“w-what?” he exclaimed

“take off my shirt” you stepped even closer, until you were able to grab onto his hands and bring them to the hem of your shirt, like you were instructing him what to do.

“what”

you slowly raised up his hands, that were now gripping onto your shirt, and helped him pull it off your body. this action left you standing in a black bra.

Anthony’s eyes went down to your chest, breathing slowly.

“what is-“ he was still not quite himself, the teasing had always stopped at the verge of undressing each other- well not this time

“what are you gonna do?” you asked slowly “are you gonna take off your shirt? are you gonna sleep with me? or are you about to leave, proving your words to be empty”

“i don’t-“ he muttered, still trying to grasp onto what was happening

“that’s what i thought” you nodded, grabbing your shirt from his hands and pulling it over your head. it was only than that he noticed how dressed up you were.

your make up was perfect and your hair had been curled and styled. he watched as you walked back to your bed, grabbing your bag and pulling out red lipstick, that you put on at the varsity across from him.

“what are you doing?” he asked as his eyes found yours in the mirror

“i’m going out”

“what? why?”

“look” you said stepping next to him “i’m just tired. i’m going to sleep with someone tonight and honestly, i don’t care if it’s you or quill kipps of all people”

his eyes grew big as you left him standing speechless in your room. he only realized what had just happened when he heard the front door close. he rushed down the steps, but as he reached the door he could only watch you drive away in a cab.

“what’s going on?” asked George stepping next to Lockwood

“y/n just left”

“she left? without us? how is she gonna manage-“

“not for a case, George” Lockwood interrupted bitterly

“for- for a date?” George asked slowly, noticing the dark look that had plastered itself onto the other boys features

“fuck” Lockwood growled before he send a kick towards the rapier holder, sending it flying onto the ground

George stepped back to make room for the fuming boy, that was now retracing back to his room. in the mean time, George was joined by Lucy who had sat in the kitchen and was alarmed by the sudden noise.

“what’s going on?” she asked confused

“oh” George muttered, trying to keep in a laugh “y/n left for a date”

“he’s finally getting it?”

“seems like it”

George and Lucy had noticed how you both were utterly in love with each other. while you weren’t holding back on showing it, Lockwood didn’t even seem to realize.

they watched as Lockwood came rushing down the stairs, now wearing his coat. Lucy grabbed onto his arm to hold him back.

“where are you going?” she asked

“to find y/n”

“i don’t think you should” Lucy muttered “i think she gave you a fair chance, and as it seems you made your decision, now leave her be”

Lucy, who had quickly grown to be y/n’s best friend, knew everything about the latter girls feeling. she would often find her friend crying and begging for a reason why Lockwood never seemed to actually like her. she knew that she couldn’t handle the relationship the two were having anymore, but she also knew that y/n just couldn’t give up Anthony that fast, that’s why she didn’t, that’s why she let him make the choice.

“she’s going to sleep with bloody Kipps!” he protested

“what?” muttered George

“i know” said Lucy softly

“you know?” both boys asked. well, George was confused while Lockwood was angry

“and you didn’t talk her out of it?” he bellowed

“no? why would i? y/n’s a grown up, Kipps is a grown up. he’s handsome and funny and-“

“can i stop you right there?” Lockwood muttered while looking like he was about to stab Lucy “you send her out to have sex with- with someone-”

“with someone?” Lucy asked, before she finished the sentence her self “with someone that isn’t you?”

“yes, god-damnit!” Lockwood screamed

“you had your chance, Lockwood” Lucy exclaimed without any sympathy for the boy. she had watched y/n cry too often because of him to still be sympathetic. “and you blew it, end of story. if you don’t want her, than there are lots of others who do. don’t blame this on her, because you’re the one that never did anything about what was going on between you guys”

she grabbed George’s arm and Lockwood watched his friends retreat down to the kitchen. he took of his coat, sighing, tears in his eyes, because Lucy was right. it really was his fault after all

it wasn’t until the early morning that you made your way back into portland row.

you had kept your window open, which was on the side of the house, so you could climb in easily on top of the garbage bins.

you landed onto your bed, but it was only than that you noticed it being occupied by a body. “ow” said body exclaimed when you landed on top of him.

him as in Anthony Lockwood.

“Lockwood?” you whispered, stepping in front of the bed and watching as the boy got up slowly from the mattress.

“holy hell, y/n!” Lockwood spoke “where have you been all night?”

“oh no” you said while taking off your shoes “you’re not getting to yell at me now”

“i’m not— goddamnit!” he muttered, letting his head sink into his hands “i made you breakfast” he pointed at the tray he had brought.

“the tea must be cold by now” you noticed and he nodded

“listen” Lockwood stepped closer to you “i’m actually here, because i wanted to tell you how sorry i am about yesterday” he paused “i- i was an asshole and honestly there’s no real excuse for that, because it took me until yesterday to realize how real this between us was— is!”

“Lockwood” you said but he just shook his head

“i know that you left me a chance and i blew it— totally blew it, and i understand if you’d rather go out and sleep with Kipps for the rest of your life, but—“

you broke of his rambling by shaking your head “i didn’t sleep with Kipps” Lockwood let out a relieved breath “believe me, i was close to it, but then i just couldn’t”

he nodded, glad for your honesty, before he grabbed your hands

“i don’t want to prove my words to be empty ever again” he said “i want to sleep with you, but that’s not it, i want to be with you, all the time, every day. without pointless flirting, i mean, i do want to flirt with you, but for real”

you had to laugh at his rambling and nodded “ditto, baby”

“this part can stay as it is” he smiled upon recognizing the familiar name he had missed so much in the last few hours

“of course” you nodded

“can i take you shirt off, now?” he asked, slowly letting his hands wander to the hem of it.

“obviously” you laughed, before he took it off and pulled you closer to connect your lips in a passionate kiss

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Public Displays

Anthony Lockwood x f!Reader

Warnings: None, this is pretty much fluff and only fluff :) 💖💖💖

Summary: Lockwood and Y/N have to pretend to be a couple for a case, which is hard for her, but things are more complicated than they seem, as usual 💖💖💖

A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 It's a little longer, but also I love the fake dating trope a little too much :') 💖💖💖 Also so sorry if updates are unpredictable and slow :’) 💖💖💖 Hope you have a great day 💖💖💖

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"Lockwood are you really sure this is necessary ?", she frowned, sinking deeper into her seat.

Why did they need to pretend to be couple for this ? He was known to love elaborate plans, but this seemed a little much and slightly unnecessary. Alright, maybe the problem was partly because she really liked him, but how could she not. He always had her tea ready, just the way she liked it. He made her laugh, not cute little giggles, the ugly one that had her in tears on the ground, snorting. He cared about everyone in the team, more than he cared about himself sometimes, and definitely more than he let on. So, it was hard to not like him. She did hide it though, buried so deep, as to be sure that no one would ever know. Someone smarter and braver than her would have told her to just tell him how she felt, but it was easier this way, the pain of rejection would be agonising. Not just because she'd lose him, it may as well be like losing Lucy and George as well. She would rather live in denial all her life, than give up her only actual family. What could she say, she was a pessimist.

"I'm positive", he grinned.

George put down his book, nodding his head, "Public displays of affection do make people uncomfortable"

"Not helping", she groaned, letting her head drop into her hands.

"What ?! I'm just stating the obvious", he frowned, looking around the room for an air of support. The room was silent except for Lucy, giggling in her seat. Clearly this was amusing to her. She shot her a wary look, a silent plea for help. She only shrugged her shoulder, popping another biscuit into her mouth. She cursed under her breath.

He took a seat next to her, a hand on her shoulder, "Don't you trust me Y/N". She did trust him, that wasn't the problem. She didn't trust herself.

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

"Lockwood, slow down", she gasped, unable to keep up with him. He was practically dragging her behind him. Their hands were interlocked, and she was only too aware of how her hand slotted into his, like pieces of a jigsaw. She was terrified. Her palms were sweaty. What if he could notice how sweaty her palms were. She muttered an apology as she bumped into another passerby, looking down on the ground.

He didn't slow down, only shook his head with a smile, "Sorry sweetheart, you are just going to have to walk faster".

She was taken aback, but kept walking. "I- Don't call me that", she sighed.

He squeezed her hand little, "What? It's part of the act, we are playing a couple".

"You are so annoying", she rolled her eyes. She hoped that he wouldn't look back and see the blush that coloured her face.

"But you love it sweetheart", he laughed and she couldn't help but laugh too.

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

"You know we need this to be believable right ?", he sent her a pointed look.

"This is completely believable", she raised a brow, gesturing to the couch that they were both seated on. She was playing dumb, well aware of the distance between them. It was supposed to be a reality check of sorts, that she was hoping he wouldn't notice, but he was being sharper about this than she thought.

He chuckled, bringing a hand to her waist, pulling her towards him, "You could come a little closer ?". She pressed her lips together, as her contingency plan fell to pieces. Well shit. "You're so stiff", he repositioned her arms around him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder, before replacing his arm around her.

"There this isn't so bad is it", he sighed, sounding a little too pleased with himself. He was warm and comfortable, with the faintest scent of lavender and bergamot. She let herself relax, as much as she could at least, settling in next to him. He was all to aware, a smug smirk plastered on his face. This was bad.

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

She found herself in a predicament. She had to create a distraction. The best way would be to act like a couple, but that would only make it worse for her at the end of the night. Chancing a glimpse at the shadowy figure in the corner of her eye, she groaned internally. She knew what she had to do.

"Hey", she turned towards him,

His eyes met hers, "Yes ?'.

"How is that you always manage to look so good ?", she giggled, pulling him closer by his tie. She brought her palm to his cheek, he leaned into her touch. That was weird, but she kept going. She wasn't risking her sanity the whole day just for the case to end up in failure. She moved in closer, their lips only meeting, separated by a few millimetres. She could feel his hot breath on hers. Her heart pounded faster. How had this become a part of her job ?

His face turned red, "I um- I-".

The figure moved past them, and she thanked every higher power in existence. She pushed away from him, taking a step back. His tie dropped from her hold, "Okay they're gone".

Only then could she truly appreciate how flustered he had actually gotten. He looked like he had run a kilometre. She laughed, "Are you blushing ?". It was rare, which is why it was such a treat. At least if anything, at the end of this day she could say that she made the Anthony Lockwood speechless.

He fixed his gaze on the ground, running a hand through his hair, "I- I um- No".

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

"They're coming out, we gotta go", she hissed, tugging at his arm. How had she not come to the realisation that this would end up with them in a sketchy alley, that was lit up by a sinister glow and wet with something she hoped was just rain water. This was disgusting, but the stakes of their lives was a bigger priority than hygiene, and still everything she endured today would all be for nothing if they were dead at the end of this.

He ran a palm across his face, "No there's not enough time".

"They're gonna know we were eavesdropping", she chewed her bottom lip. Her eyes flitted back and forth, searching for an escape, but all she could see were walls, nothing to climb, no hole to squeeze threw. Nothing. How could there be nothing ? They always made it out ? He always had a plan.

She looked at him, a sinking feeling burning a hole in the bottom of her stomach. "I- I know what to do", he sounded unsure.

At least he had a plan, and a plan was better than nothing. She winced, shrugging her shoulders, "Well whatever it is you're gonna have to do it quick".

In one swift movement, he had shoved her against the wall, his body pressed up against hers. She was breathing heavily, trying and failing to look anywhere else. It was probably not a great look, but when he put his lips on hers, her mind went blank. He tasted sweet, like honey. He was gentle, not like that she had imagined. It was soft and hesitant, messy and awkward. Still through all that it felt different, less like a daydream, more real.

He pulled away, she gasped, "That was-".

"I'm sorry, they’re gone now- I didn't mean to-", he began, hands up in surrender. Cutting him off she grabbed the collar of his shirt, connecting their lips again. He was taken aback, but he caught on soon enough, his hands moving to her waist, tugging her closer against him, almost suffocating her. It would be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy it though. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, leaving it sticking out in different ends. She felt warm all over and desperate, clinging onto him, but in the moment she didn’t care.

She pulled away breathless. He looked out-of-breath, yet he still seemed to be watching her closely. She turned her gaze to his, searching his eyes for a sign, something to tell her that he felt the same. He gave her a soft smile, “Can- Can we do that again ?”. She laughed.

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

The door swung open. Her eyes travelled to their interlocked hands. He scratched the back if his head sheepishly and she looked to the ground.

"So, how was your date ?", she took a step back, letting them in, with a teasing grin.

Her eyes were still trailed on the floor, letting him lead her in, "We um-". How would she be able to describe it ? Where would she even begin ?

"I knew it", she shook her head knowingly, arms crossed.

She was confused. "What ?", he wondered, tracing patterns on the back of her palm.

“You two kissed”, she pointed out, but before he could respond she was already marching up that stairs, “George you owe me 10 quid”.

Maybe she wasn’t as great at hiding her feelings as she thought ? She tilted her head to look at him. His hairs was ruffled with a tired smile on his face, her hand still secured in his. Turning to her, he raised a brow, probably feeling her stare. She just smiled back.

"You two kissed", she pointed out, like it was written on their foreheads, but before he could think of a response, she was already marching up the stairs, “George you owe me 10 quid”.

They were silent. Maybe she wasn’t as good as hiding her feelings as she though she was. She tilted her head to look at him, a ruffled with a tired smile on his face, she felt a sense of comfort. He turned over to her, probably sending her stare, she just smiled, content.

They were silent. She felt her face heat up. Was it that obvious to everyone else ? Maybe she wasn’t as incognito as she had thought ? And maybe that wasn’t so bad she thought, as she looked at him, ruffled with a tired smile on his face. She felt a a strange sense of comfort and couldn’t help but smile too.

[oblivious-idiot]

Don’t wanna see you crying anymore

Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: after Lockwood deems you housebound while your injuries heal from a case (broken arm and cracked ribs), you reconnect with Kipps, which only makes Lockwood jealous

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, language/swearing

Word count: 1.5k

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader, Quill Kipps x fem!Reader (in the past)

AN: This is my first bit of writing so I apologise if it's not the best haha, I also have no idea how to end these either oops. I'd love any feedback but please be kind!

You’d been working for Lockwood and Co. for a while by now, it had just been your first anniversary with the team when Lucy joined, and you were all the more grateful to have another girl in the building. After previously working for Fittes and then joining Lockwood and Co, you’d quite frankly needed a change of pace. You and George had been close friends while you worked at Fittes together, which is how you ended up joining the team at 35 Portland Row.

Lockwood you couldn’t quite get your head around - he always seemed to pay attention to you while you worked for Fittes, maybe it was because you were dating Kipps at the time, maybe it was just that he didn’t like Kipps all that much. The two of you had grown quite close in the past year though, you’d had your fair share of arguments and patching each other up after cases. It was only after Lucy had joined that you realised you had fallen for him and his soft security.

You and Lucy were getting ready in your shared room before your next case after having a disagreement with Lockwood in the kitchen if you should come or not. As you were going over a few newspaper clippings Lucy looks at you from the bathroom mirror.

“You should go easy on him, you know.”

“Go easy on him? What for Lu?” You scoff

“He’s just looking out for you y/n, he doesn’t want to see you hurt” she says as she walks over to you on the bed

You chuckle a little and look up at her “Lu, we fight ghosts for a living, I’d be surprised if we didn’t get hurt once in a while”

She takes hold of your hand “you know what I mean, smartass. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, it would break him to lose you”

You sit up straight and look at her soft smile, confused as to how she thinks he likes you “wha-, Lu he doesn’t-, we’re just friends”

“Just try not to be too reckless tonight, alright?” She gets up and smiles at you again, before heading downstairs.

Surprisingly, the case didn’t go as plan. The alleged Type One that you and George had been researching all week turned out to be a Type Two. You knew something didn’t feel right when you picked up this case, but Lockwood was so adamant in taking it that you didn’t want to crush him.

You and Lucy were trying your best to hold off the Type Two while Lockwood and George went to look for the source. You could tell that you’d began to tire and you didn’t know how long you could keep going. You looked at Lucy worriedly, but that was your mistake, because the ghost lunged towards you causing you to lose your footing. You fell down the first flight of stairs, your foot getting caught in the bannister and your body slams so hard into the wall you go out cold.

It had been about a week since the case when you were finally allowed to leave the hospital. Your arm was in a cast after breaking it in your fall, as well your chest and ankle being tightly bound - the doctors had told you that you’d cracked a rib as well as spraining your ankle from getting caught in the bannister. Lucy and George picked you up from the hospital, but when you asked about Lockwood, Lucy just smiled at you softly.

“It’s been really hard on him y/n, this past week. He’s been worried sick”

You look at them both confused “but it’s not like it was his fault, he didn’t push me down the stairs, did he?” you say a little sarcastically to try and lighten the mood.

George sighs and looks at you, “you know what he’s like y/n. He blames it on himself for not getting to the source fast enough.”

“He really cares about you y/n” Lucy chimes in “just go easy on him, okay?”

When you got back to 35 Portland Row, Lockwood was waiting in the kitchen. You smiled at him as you hobbled over to give him a hug. He looked like he hadn’t slept since you’d last seen him.

He sighed once you’d all gathered around the kitchen table. “I think it’s about time we had a talk” his eyes settling on you and your broken arm.

“Y/n, you’re not to go on any more cases until you’re fully healed.” He hangs his head when he sees your hurt expression. “This isn’t up for discussion. We cannot lose you, I-“ he cut himself off and left the kitchen before you could get a word in.

You hastily got up from your chair and followed him, trying not to hurt yourself as you went. "Lockwood!" you called after him, making him stop in the hall. Once you caught up to him you couldn’t read his face “I’m sorry y/n, you just need to heal. I can’t have my best agent getting more hurt on my watch.” He squeezed your hand and smiled before heading upstairs to his room.

After another week being housebound, you'd began to get restless. Although Lockwood was keeping his distance (you think he still feels guilty for your injuries), he almost scolded you for daring to put on your coat because you were out of milk. As an apology later that night he gave you one of his hoodies, in which the larger size made it easier for you to wear with your cast.

Shortly after the team left for another big case, you hear a ring at the door. You assumed it was George forgetting the chains again, but instead it was Quill Kipps.

"Hey," his voice was gentle as he studied you all bandaged up. "I, uh, I heard you were on house arrest, so I thought I'd stop by to check on you"

You smiled "I'm not your girlfriend anymore Kipps, you don't have to check on me." looking down, you notice the brown paper bag in his hand "I-, did you bring sandwiches?"

A big grin spreads across his face "Your favourite. I haven't had them since you left" You invite him in, knowing you didn't have much of a choice when Kipps made up his mind.

Over the next week, Kipps would stop by the house on his days off and have lunch with you. You hadn't told the team, you didn't know how they'd react, but it was nice to have the company every one in a while, the free food was good too.

One day Lucy and George went out to the store for food while you and Lockwood went over files for the current case you were all working on - Lockwood still wouldn't let you out in the field but it was nice to be included again. You hear ring of the doorbell and Lockwood goes up to answer it, the next thing you hear is his rapier unsheathing and raised voices.

You hobble your way out to the hall to see Lockwood pointing his rapier at Kipps, who was holding a bag of fresh sandwiches and... flowers?

"Anthony, put your bloody rapier down" you say, but he doesn't move. "Anthony, put it down" raising your voice this time.

"I'm curious to see what the weasel is doing here, trying to charm his way into stealing our cases now? Nice try Kipps but I don't like flowers" he smiles dryly.

"They're not for you, Tony, but I'll keep that in mind for Valentines" Kipps says sarcastically.

Lucy and George arrive back and they both give Kipps a strange look, before looking at you in the hallway. Kipps hands you the bag and flowers "I'll call you later" and he flashes Lockwood a look before leaving.

Once Kipps was gone, you brush past Lockwood to go sit in the Library. "Y/n!" he calls out after you, before following you into the room.

"What's going on y/n?" Lockwood says softly as he sits next to you, he sounded hurt. "If you needed anything while we were gone, you could've told me..."

"Anthony, I haven't left the house in weeks, I can't work, all I get are the four walls of this house." You look over at him "What I needed was company. I needed you. And Lucy and George"

He takes a hold of your free hand brushes your hair out of your face. "I'm sorry. I just-, you know how I get with you and Kipps, if he hurt you again..."

"Anthony look at me" you say as you squeeze his hand "I am never going back to him or Fittes ever again. This is my home now."

"Thank god," he chuckles softly "I remember the day you arrived here, looking for George. You were such a mess."

"Gee, thanks for making me feel better Lockwood" you laugh and push him away softly.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

lockwood & co. fic recs pt. 1

Make sure you check reading restrictions for each author. Please respect the writers!

mixed

lockwood & co headcanons → @justafandomgvrl Sharing a bed with them Warnings: none - it's a lot of fluff

marmalade and mischievous mornings → @gayandfairycore spending a morning in 35 portland row, regular shenanigans ensue between the four of you. Warnings: none - it's a lot of fluff

lockwood & co headcanons for valentines day → @justafandomgvrl Warnings: none - it's a lot of fluff

knock knock. who's there? → @klineinie Warnings: cockroach. it's all i can say

anthony lockwood

always → @vi-trying-to-survive Y/N overworks herself trying to solve a case and when Lockwood comes to get her to take a break, she loses consciousness. Warnings: None, this is just fluff and only fluff

my idiot → @vi-trying-to-survive Y/N, a medical practitioner’s apprentice, meets Lockwood in an unlikely way. The two quickly become close, which isn’t a problem. The problem is the fact that he has no regard for his own safety and always runs to her for help. Warnings: This is just fluff and a little angst. Also small mentions of bleeding and a stab wound

honey, i'm home → @callsign-mama The reader is caught dancing in stolen underclothes. Reader and Lockwood are not together at the beginning, but oh, they are at the end. Warnings: 18+!! You have been warned. Lockwood calls reader ‘honey’.

untitled → @teaandransackingWarnings: vulnerable Lockwood, softness, fluff, angst. General audiences.

lucy carlyle

untitled → @gay-dorito-dust Warnings: Nightmares, Mostly just fluff

dating lucy carlyle would include → @why-what-no Warnings: None

spellbound → @oblivious-idiot When one of Lockwood’s old friends joins the agency, Lucy can’t help but fall in love with her. Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort(kinda?), kissing, mentions of cleaning wounds, Lucy realises she’s bi lol, and gets jealous of Lockwood

in the past → @frogmanfletch Lucy has a nightmare about losing you and has a chat with Lockwood in the middle of the night Warnings: Nightmares, Mostly just fluff

the c in concussion stands for cuddles → @hurtcomfortficstilltheend The aftermath of the screaming staircase case (Doubt Thou the Stars episode), Reader gets a concussion and there might be some cuddles involved. Warnings: ghost-fighting (brief), getting a concussion (feeling dizzy and confused), hurt/comfort and fluff (I know, very surprising).

sweet nothings → @oblivious-idiotWarnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, mild language

pining → @frogserotoninWarnings: so ooc, unedited, cringe

untitled → @givemea-dam-breakWarnings: mild language

george karim

love → @genieofthebooksWarnings: Mentions of illness, fluff, Reader shipping Locklyle, Reader calling George Love even though they are not together yet. Kissing. Reader is beautiful/pretty yet insecure so does not believe it. (You lot are beautiful)

a personal experiment → @callsign-mama The one where George knows more than he's letting on about how you feel about him. Warnings: 18+, SMUT/Teasing (in the sexual way)

the break of dawn → @oblivious-idiotWarnings: fluff, George receives a spicy kiss (quite literally), harmless flirting, and taking the piss (joking around) &lt;3

i need you → @genieofthebooksWarnings: Kissing, Mentions of blood, tears, sadness.

untitled → @gay-dorito-dustWarnings: none - it's a lot of fluff

kintsugi → @bippiti when you go searching for your cousin in london, you find yourself meeting someone you wouldn’t expect Warnings: bad families (mentioned)

the little things → @genieofthebooks The Little things that make George Karim fall in love with you. Warnings: Fluff, Pining idiots, Kissing

untitled → @gay-dorito-dust Warnings: Sick Reader, Fluff

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝟐/𝟒 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Cases become harder to focus on with you being gone. Lucy tries her luck with getting Anthony to join her when visiting you, but his guilt makes it difficult to see you. When he finally finds the courage, he doesn’t expect for you to be missing from your hospital bed.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): Very angtsy again, some fluff if you squint

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,849

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! This is about 5k words more than part one was lol also the jabs thrown at the nurses and doctor are not written in hatred of them. My own sister is a nurse and I’m aware of how hard they work and the strong mentalities they have for the things they see and interact with. So hopefully it’s not taken to the heart…I don’t know why I’m even explaining this, but I overthink about shit too much, you guys probably won’t even take it to heart cause it plays into Lockwood’s whole persona…imma shut up now! I hope you enjoy it, I had a blast writing this part. Also I’m aware that I didn’t write George’s interaction with the reader, I’m saving it for part 3 <;3 

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Weeks passed since DEPRAC had arrived and helped place you in the back of the ambulance. The doors closing in Lockwood’s face felt like a punch to the gut as it drove away. He watched and watched until the automobile grew into a speck in the distance. He wiped away a fallen tear in hopes to save himself the embarrassment. Though his begging and pleading and almost knocking Kipp out did nothing to hide his vulnerability. They now knew first hand just how special you were to him. The importance you played in his life, the mere reason his sanity remained intact. All that was left was a broken shell of a boy who suffered a great loss. It didn’t help that multiple hands came up and touched him on the shoulder, apologizing, giving their condolences. He rolled his eyes, scoffing at their antics. You weren’t dead, not really, so it made no sense for everyone he knew to act as if you were six feet under ground. You couldn’t be gone, not when he had so much to confess to you.

It was hard to focus on anything when you crossed his mind constantly. When he stumbled upon something belonging to you or a reminder of you such as flashes of your smile or your laugh, or seeing your forgotten mp3 player in the library. They’d fore-front his lobe. He truly lost it one day when he was sitting across your vacant chair, eyes mindlessly wandering onto the thinking cloth, and there it was. A doodle you had drawn. One of a music note, and familiar lyrics to a song that you constantly had on repeat throughout the house, written below. Your subconscious thoughts were jotted down too. Silly little questions they were, but they were yours. Your thoughts and what your mind occupied. All here. You grazed the cloth with your handwriting and Lockwood was afraid that this is what would be left of you. A tingle ran down his spine. His finger traced over your penmanship. Following the curves and loops of your letters. He read a few. A smile formed on his face because you were genuinely hilarious. You never failed to make him effortlessly laugh.

♫

I could build a castle Out of all the bricks they threw at me And every day is like a battle But every night with us is like a dream

Note to self: Remind Lockwood to restock the pantry.  

Do we still have donuts left? I’ve been craving a glazed one!!! :D

We’re out of donuts :,(

We’re out of tea bags. My throat is sore so I won’t get my tea before bed :(

I saw a death-glow of a dog today and it made me cry. The taxi driver must’ve thought I was mental or something :P

George is a moron >:(

“Lockwood?” Lucy followed his line of sight. He placed his hand over your handwriting. He was clearly absent minded. Mind clouded with no doubt thoughts of you. Lucy was surprised to see him grace the kitchen again. He hardly had the appetite for anything as of late. “Lockwood!”

Anthony was startled out of his thoughts. The chair scraped against the floor as he jumped back. He relaxed seeing it was only Lucy.

“Sorry Luce, didn’t see you there…” He sighed heavily. “Did you need something?”

“I only asked whether you wanted to join me today…” It finally dawned on him that Lucy was fully dressed. Her blue leather jacket draped over her crossed arms.

“Today?” He rested against the back of the chair. “Oh.”

“Thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. You’ve hardly left the house since…” She trailed off. Eyes averting from his own.

“Since.” His jaw clenched. “N-Not today Lucy.” He ran a hand over his face.

“Lockwood-“

“I can’t.” His eyes shut. Head falling. He furiously shook his head no. “I can’t. It’s unfair. We’re here and she’s not.” He points harshly behind him. “I can’t just go and sit by her, knowing that she will never wake up. I can’t Lucy…what would I even say to her?” His voice cracked at the end.

“It’s not your fault you know.” Lucy’s head titled, feeling for her friend. “It was a bad case. A visitor, too hard to handle. If what you say is true. That the visitor knocked you out cold. Then what Y/n did was an act of sacrifice. She saved you, Lockwood.” A saddened smile painted her eyes. She reached forward to touch his shoulder. This time he didn’t flinch away like he’d done before.

“And it was unnecessary.” He gritted his teeth. “She didn’t need to get herself ghost locked. I could’ve done without it. I didn’t need saving, I needed her to be okay!” He slammed his hand down on the tabletop. Lucy’s shoulder moved with a startle, her hand retreating back down to her side. Regret clouding over Lockwood’s eyes instantly. “I need her. I need her here with us. I need to make sure that she’s getting enough rest and eating. I wish for her awakening. Not hospitalized and in a goddamn comatose!” He raised his voice again.

“You miss her.” Water brimmed her waterline. Lockwood scoffed. The smirk didn’t quite reach his eyes. Missing you didn’t begin to cover half of what he felt.

“I can’t breathe.” He admits taking a great intake of air. “I wake and expect to find her lounging about, somewhere in the house, but end up realizing she’s not here and her bed is still made. I can manage on my own without her but it’s not something I want to do. It’s not something I want to continue waking up to.” His bottom lip trembled. By now he was past giving a shit about who saw him break. “I don’t just miss her, Lucy. I can’t breathe without her.”

He loves you. Is what Lucy finally settled on. She nodded understandably. The one person who held her heart was ghost locked too. A state she’d remain forever in, as would you.

“Join me...” She held her arm out, a smile reflecting back at him. He pondered the idea. Stay at home or go along with Lucy to finally see you. Would he really spend another day within the walls of his own house? Only staying on standby if a client called them to inform them of a visitor needing to be taken care of. What had his life become? He thought about it, then to Lucy’s surprise he placed his hand in hers. “Wait really?” Lucy was stunned, half expecting him to deny her offer. 

“Like George said, Lockwood & Co doesn’t run from things. It’s about time I stop, no?” He gave a cheeky but solemn smirk. Lucy nodded and tugged him along through the kitchen door towards the entryway. 

“George, he said yes!” Lucy yelled to the second floor. They could hear a door open and shut, hurried footsteps descending. He came into view out of breath. Shock and relief featured across his face. 

“Oh thank god. I was growing rather tired of seeing him mope and sulk every day.” He placed a hand over his chest, grabbing his own coat and rapier. 

“I have not!” Lockwood grew offended.

“Yes you have!” Both of them said, nodding in agreement.

“Two against one, quite an unfair fight don’t you think so...” He scoffed then was the first one out the door. If you were here you’d do your very best to counter their bullying, provide an equilibrium. The two glanced at each other before following the brunette out the door.

-

The ride to the hospital had him feeling anxious, but once the three of them stepped foot into the elevator, all courage had gone out the door. He received a few stares from his constant foot tapping. Lucy held his hand to calm him down, but he was anything but calm. It had been weeks since the case. However, he was finally in the one place he tried to avoid. He didn’t quite know how Lucy was able to visit you. To have the strength to see you in such a position. He knew that Lucy was able to relate. After having asked about her past life. He was let in on the life she used to have with her best friend Norrie. They made plans to come to London and be the most famous agents together. Though those dreams had been ripped from them. Their plans were put on pause after Norrie remained in ghost lock. It was nerving, he was scared. Your milky white eyes never left his mind. They haunted him day and night. He’d stay up all night to avoid seeing them in his dreams, not like he ever had any though. He was finally here though. George and Lucy would be there by his side at all times. He braved on when the doors finally dinged. He heavily sighed and stepped out first, walking to the front desk to check in. Then they found themselves heading to your room. They didn’t think anything of it when your doctor and two nurses loitered outside your closed door. He honestly thought nothing bad of it. Yet, he was incredibly wrong.

“What are you not telling us?” Lockwood eyed the doctor. His eyes moved past his shoulder to the gray door that the doctor was blocking. They had just been told by your doctor that they weren’t allowing visitors at the moment. 

“Mr. Lockwood, if you could please sit down. I think it would be best to talk somewhere quieter- Mr. Lockwood!” The doctor called out to him as he had shoved past him. He pressed down on the lever of your door and pushed it open. He barged in and halted. Dread immediately filling him. He felt nauseous, his tie suddenly too tight and choking him. Lucy and George pushed past the nurses trying to hold them back. They too came to a stop when they entered your room. 

“What the fuck?” Lucy cursed as her eyes stared widely at your bed that you were not in. 

“I’m gonna be sick...” George got the chills.

Lockwood slowly turned to look at the eyes trying to avert their gazes. Anger and confusion coursed through him when he asked. “Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” The doctor and nurses all looked at one another. Mouths opening and closing not knowing what to say because they too had no idea what the hell was happening. Your doctor took it upon himself to speak to Lockwood, which only seemed to further upset him when he opened his mouth.

-

“What do you mean you’ve lost her? How do you lose a girl in a comatose state?” Anthony asked rhetorically. “People in ghost lock don’t just miraculously get up and walk out the door!” Anthony flailed his arms and hands around. He was pissed. Furious when the three of them arrived at your room to find you missing. He ran a hand down his face. Too tired to deal with the staff, and too tired to let his emotions run rampant, but you were gone. You weren’t in your room, you weren’t laying in your bed, and all the nurses, and your doctor of all people, had no clue where you were. Were you moved? Did someone take you in spite of him? Was someone out for leverage and wanted to get revenge? God he hoped it was none the latter.

“I came yesterday, Lockwood. I promise you she was here.” Lucy assured. 

“Yeah, she was right here. Lucy even sang her favorite song. Brought her favorite jumper too and everything. Swear!” George was her alibi. Having joined her when Lockwood wouldn’t turn them down. Now when he had decided to say yes, you were missing. What were the odds of that? Lucy’s stomach felt queasy. She looked around the room, and began panicking. 

“Where is her jumper?” Lucy walked over to the chair next to your bed. 

“What do you mean?” Lockwood's hard demeanor faltered. 

“Her jumper. It was right here. I left it right here, yesterday! It’s gone!” Lucy turned back to face everyone, her face fell.

“Did you lose her jumper too?” Lockwood asked the three people behind him with spite. “The staff were under strict instructions to monitor her and watch over her…” He casted them a narrowed glare. He turned around. Facing the foot of your bed now. His hands opened and gestured to its emptiness. “Where the hell is she?” He exclaimed.

“Mr. Lockwood, I can assure you that we have been watching over your friend with great attentiveness.”

“Yes it shows.” He hummed.

“Now Mr. Lockwood-'' The doctor stepped forward, but was cut off.

“What if she’s awakened?” One of the timid nurse’s suggestions caused his hardened features to soften. His gaze falling onto hers. What would be the chances of it? The idea was absurd. No one, and he means no one has ever awakened from ghost lock. Yet a speck of hope ignited something within him. What once was lost hope for your recovery, now revived itself again. Maybe. Just maybe. He thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You and I both know that’s impossible.” He scoffs, a humorous smile painting his mouth. He didn’t want to be given false hope, not when it came to you.

“Ghost exist. Anything is quite possible really.” Well when she put it that way. “Who's to say she didn’t wake when we left the room and wandered off? It would be the only plausible explanation.”

He observed your room more thoroughly from where he stood. Lucy and George looked around again too.

He glanced over to your empty bed, the covers had been clearly ruffled and thrown towards the edge. He subconsciously reached down, letting the fabric of the sheets collide against his fingertips as he caressed them. His heart rate picked up again. Not wanting to consume the possibility but there were no signs, no evidence of a struggle, no attempts of a break in, or furniture splintered and thrown. The only reliable evidence was that you no longer frequented the now discarded bed, and all your wires and heart rate monitor had been taken off, not removed.

Please, please. He prayed. He looked over his shoulder at the nurses and doctor patiently waiting by the door. If the chances of your awakening were true, then you couldn’t have wandered very far. You were probably lost or confused. No one has ever encountered an experience such as this one. Such as your case. No one knew what would come of someone who suddenly woke up out of nowhere. Would you still be yourself? Would your eyes remain a milky white glaze? God, how he missed their e/c color. He took a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Here’s the plan...We each take a floor. George, take the first. Lucy, you take the second, and I’ll stay here to search. Move onto the next floor if you’re out of luck. Questions?” He remained stoic. Being the one to take charge in this current unsettling situation. He bore it all so everyone else in his life didn’t have to.

“Lockwood, do you really think she’s awakened?” Lucy's breath shook. Your jumper no longer thrown over the chair she would sit in, gone, gave her goosebumps. The idea scared her, but if it led to being true then she was willing to do whatever it took to find you. Find you first to give you the biggest hug ever. 

“I don’t know Lucy...” He trailed off. Then led the group out of your room.  “Alright. Whoever finds her first then...” He nodded to them, then began walking down the hall. Lucy and George were dumbfounded, not expecting him to walk off so quickly. “Use the stairs!” He called over his shoulder. 

“Where’s the stairs?” Lucy turned to ask one of the nurses. 

“Down the hall to your right.” She gestured past Lucy’s shoulder.

“Then there remained one.” George stood in the same position. Casting a light smile to the nurse who wanted nothing more than to work on her charts. “Alright...” He didn’t even bid them a goodbye, simply followed Lucy down the staircase. 

-

The trio each took to their assigned floors. George covered the first floor, asking and describing your characteristics. The height you were, and what you would be wearing, though none of the passer byers seemed to see anyone with your description. He was hardly the socializing type, so when most ignored him, his frustrations fused up.

Back up to the third floor. Once George and Lucy were out of sight Lockwood bolted. He ran down the halls, checking each room, asking even the patients themselves, if they had seen you. Asking different nurses than the ones who tended to you. He was on a mission. Desperate to find you. To relieve him of his living nightmare. Lucy asked him if he believed that you were truly awake. Yes, he did. He wished for it day and night, now here he was rushing around the third floor hoping you’d be there around every corner he turned into. The only real success he had was the old man in the room next to yours. Something about a girl asking where he got his jelly cup. That had been enough to make his heart skip. His eyes gleamed with hope. Desire and delight overflowed within him. He thanked him, and walked out his room. Spotting one of the previous nurses, he rushed up to her out of breath. There was only one place he could think of that you’d set your mind to, if you really were the girl who asked the man where he got the jelly cup.

“What floor is your refectory again?”

The nurse stumbled over her words. Mouth opening and closing at his odd question. Then not wanting to further test Anthony Lockwood’s patience, she told him. “First floor.”

He gratefully placed his hand on her shoulder, thanking her and hurriedly rushed past her. Refusing to take the elevator, he pushed the exit door and descended with haste.

-

Lucy searched thoroughly on the second floor. She ran down the hallways, asking, shouting whether anyone had seen a girl with the descriptions she gave like George had done. Wondering if you were wandering around helplessly. Though none recalled the description Lucy gave them. No memory of seeing someone like you. She waved them off, taking it into her own hands to find you. She honestly didn’t know how she wasn’t getting whiplash from how fast she turned her head left from right. Glancing into open rooms or towards patients wandering the halls. She made it to one end, turning a sharp right at the corner. Though the right turn only basked in a red bright sign saying exit. Her hands fell to her sides. When she turned around to head on left, her shoes squeaked against the gray vinyl tiled floor. Her feet moved before her mind could comprehend what she was seeing. Her heart picked up because there before her stood you. You in your beautiful glory. Fully conscious, your hospital gown still on, but now you dawned your blue green jumper that was missing from your beside chair. The one she brought to you during her last visit was staring right at her. She kept blinking, not believing you to be real. To be standing upright and walking like you didn’t just awaken from a comatose state. Like you didn’t just come out of being ghost-locked, something everyone perceived to be impossible. The unimaginable was right in front of her though. You were okay. It felt too good to be true, but the soft rasp of your voice asking the nurse stationed at the front desk of the second floor a question, was enough to convince Lucy otherwise.

“E-Excuse me...would you be able to direct me in the direction of the refectory?” Your hands held the edge of the rounded counter. You waited patiently for a reply, biting your lips timidly, but the nurse on the phone only dismissed you with a wave of her hand. Lucy saw the fall of your shoulders, her heart breaking, watching your hands falling back down to your sides. You only smiled at her, bidding her a thank you and turned to walk off. That was the fifth person who refused to help you. You weren’t asking for much. Just a slight guide to make sure you were going the right way. You looked up from your slippers. Startled from the fact you almost collided with someone. “Oh I’m sorry!” You apologized. This was also your fifth person you accidentally collided with. You grew anxious watching her eyes widen at you. Like she’d seen a ghost. “Miss, are you okay?”

“What? I’m sorry. Sorry it’s just...I can’t believe you’re awake.” She sniffled, blinking back the water that brimmed her waterline. A very affectionate laugh and smile rang through your ears. It provides you with some warmth. Her presence was very welcoming compared to the other encounters you’ve faced. She reached forward, letting out a laugh in disbelief. You were real. It didn’t take her long to wrap you up in her arms. You yelped out in surprise, not expecting her to do such a thing. Though you didn’t pull back. Oddly enough, it felt nice. The first form of kindness someone has shown to you today. “You’re okay. You’re awake and okay!” She laughed out loud. She pulled back holding you at arms length. “My god your eyes, look at them!” She beamed, her eyes teary up again. Your eyes no longer held a milky glaze to them. No gray dullness reflecting back to her. They were reverted back to their original color. One she never thought to see again, but she did. She cupped your face. Your eyes softened, taken back from her sweet act of affection towards you. “Wait till Lockwood sees you...and George! Oh they’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you. Our room isn’t as fun without you!” She joked. Lucy felt her world start to piece back together, but it remained broken within a second. Her heart sank when the lack of realization in your eyes stared back at her.

“Lockwood?” Your brows furrowed. “George? Who are they?” Lucy let her hands fall from your arms.

“Come off it now. It’s not funny, Y/n.” Lucy’s eyes held fear and anger. “W-What’s my name?” She held out hope for you. That you weren’t playing a cruel prank on her. 

“I’m sorry...” Your heart felt for her. You shook your head. You timidly averted your gaze. The sleeves of your jumper swallowing your hands. Clearly this girl knew you, but you had no recollection of her. The hallway filled with silence, but not for long since you spoke again. “I-Is that my name? Y/n?” Lucy finally did cry. You poor thing. You had been wandering the halls helplessly. No memory of your friends or your own identity.

“You really don’t know?” Lucy’s shoulder’s fell. The shake of your head was all she needed to know. She reached forward to grab your hands. You let her as she was the only one to give you a sense of certainty. She knew your name, when you had failed to remember it. “Yes.” She reassured you. “Your name is Y/n Y/L/N. Y-Your favorite color is green. Your favorite song is New Romantic by Taylor Swift, which you love to sing very loudly at home. It drives the boys crazy, but they love it when you sing. Your favorite dish is a beef broth that George likes to make when it’s too cold to go outside. You love tea, you prefer it to coffee. Two spoons of honey for a sweet taste. You’re my best friend…and you don’t take shit from anyone.” You clung to every word she told you. You cried too because this complete stranger gave you an identity to hold onto.

“I sound cool.” You half-heartedly laugh. Lucy breaks out into a beaming smile. She nodded. 

“You’re very cool, and very funny too. You never fail to make others laugh.” 

“I am...” You breathe out. 

“Yes. You are.” You accept it. That you’re all these wonderful things she says you are, and that you love and do things the way she says you do. It’s a lot for you to grasp, but you're hopeful. Hopeful that all these wonderful things about yourself will come back to you. Though it hurts your heart when you fail to remember her name. Not knowing it.

“What’s your name?” You softly let out. Lucy accepts your question with a smile, not taking offense to it. She tightens her grip on your hands. Bringing them up to place a kiss upon them.

“Lucy. Lucy Carlyle.” You nodded. You repeat it over and over until you memorize it. Until it’s engraved into your brain. She looks past your shoulder, seeing the nurse you had spoken to before. Then glances back to you, looking at you looking down at your slippers. Curiosity gets the better of her, and if you were in need of help, she wanted to offer it. 

“You asked the nurse where the refectory was...” Your head snapped up. Your smile widened, nodding furiously.

“Yes. Do you know where it is? This nice old man in the room next to mine was eating some jelly in a cup. I asked where he got it, and he said they get them from the refectory. He told me it was on the first floor, but I seem to be turned around.” You laugh at yourself. You gesture to the hall you ventured down with open arms.

“Come on, I’ll take you.” Lucy held out her arm for you to interlink with hers. Your smile grows again as you thank her. She continues down the hall, taking things slower now that she has found you. You weren't all present at the moment, but she would make sure you were looked after. She pressed her thumb on the downward arrow beside the elevator doors. You watched as the button glowed bright, then the doors separated. You both entered, Lucy going for the first floor button but you beat her to it. She shook her head, her mouth tugged upward. “What color of jelly would you like?” She watched as your eyes widened. Your mouth agape. 

“There’s different colors!” You were amazed. “The nice old man had a red one.” You recall.

“Then we’ll get you a red one.” You nodded, rocking on your heels, watching the numbers change. The number one taking place overhead of the doors. The doors dinged and Lucy held her arm out again to loop yours around hers. She pats your hand as she asks for the way to the refectory. A tall fella pointed down past a few seating areas. Phone pressed to his ear as he waves you both goodbye. Lucy thanks him and you fall in sync with her steps, eager and excited to eat the jelly you went on a mission for. She laughs, watching you observe everything you pass. You reflect that of a child in a candy shop. 

-

Lockwood had to catch his breath when he bursted through the emergency exit door. A few passer byers startled and stared at him with confusion and judgment. He hunched over, hands falling to his knees as he tried to slow his heart rate down. When his lungs' air capacity was restored again, he stood tall. Recollecting himself, straightening the tie that flapped around when he hurried down the steps. 

“Lockwood!” George’s voice caused his head to snap in his direction. The curly haired boy ran towards him, slightly out of breath as well. 

“George!” He greeted him, swallowing the burn in his lungs. He needed a sip of water and fast. 

“Where have you been? I ran up to the third floor in search of you, but you were nowhere.”

“Where have I been?” He was flabbergasted. “I was on the third floor.” He places his hands at his hips. 

“Doesn’t matter you’re here now. Look Lucy fo-” Lockwood cuts him off. 

“Listen I have a lead-” He began, his heart settling down. “The old man in the room next to hers said that there was a girl who asked-”

“Lockwood listen to me-” George tries again.

“Him where he got his cup of jelly. My guess is that it was her that’s why I think that she’s headed for the refect-”

“Lockwood, Lucy found her!” George grabbed his shoulder and shook him. Lockwood was stunned into silence. His heart beat against his chest. His shoulders fell in George’s grasp. 

“W-What?” He gasped.

“A little late on the lead, but you’re correct, she was heading for the refectory. Lucy found her on the second floor asking a nurse for directions.” He informed him. He observed his friend in front of him. Wondering if he was going to collapse from the glint of hope in his eyes and disbelief written over his face.

“She found her...” He breathed out. Wanting to ensure that he was hearing George right. “As in-” Lockwood dipped his chin in hopes that George would expand on his choice of words.

“As in, she's awake.” George nodded, letting out a relieved sigh. He patted Lockwood’s shoulder, laughing a little, as a light laugh emitted past Lockwood’s own lips.

“She’s really-” He choked up. “Oh my god!” He went to move past George, but was tugged back when George grasped his wrist. “George?” He questioned the hand that prevented him from going down the hall. He noticed his hesitation. “What is it George?” He looked at him, then down the hall. Concern now dawned his features, eyes furrowed thinking the worst of the worst. “What’s happened to her?”

“N-Nothing’s happened...” He reassured the brunette.

“Then let go.” He lightly laughs. Lockwood was slowly losing his patience. “Why won’t you let me see her?” He frowned. George looked away. “George!” He pressed.

“If you’d just let me explain. You need to know a few things before you see her okay.”

“What’s there to know? I know all there is to know about her. Down to her favorite pair of socks she loves to wear.” He laughed, shaking his head at George’s antics. “George, let me go...” There was a smile on his face, but the edge in his tone gave off a warning. 

“Just don’t get upset with her okay?” George’s eyes softened. A faint smile on his face. He was scared and worried he would get mad at you? He’d do no such thing.

“Let me go.” At last, he was able to take back his arm. He held his wrist, gave George a once over, then hurried down the hall into a big array of seats. Multiple people, family, friends, crowded the space, but he only had one person set out to find. His eyes scanned each face, each seat for someone in a unicorn gown, and blue green jumper. Though instead of finding you, his eyes had fallen onto Lucy walking from the serving area with a tray in her hands. Her eyes scanned the area too, and when her eyes fell onto Lockwood already looking at her, she slowly met him halfway. He looked down at the tray, a sandwich, orange juice, and two cups of jelly filled the tray. A spoon and a few napkins too. He looked back up to meet her gaze.

“Please tell me you’ve gathered an appetite.” He held her gaze with hope. He knew. He just knew.

“Afraid not...” She sighed. She scanned him, wondering what he was feeling at this moment. She met George’s eyes past his shoulder. 

“W-Where-'' He pleaded silently. Eyes telling her to show him. Have her take him back to where you are sitting. She met George’s eyes again, a silent conversation happening before Lockwood. He felt uneasy, not understanding why they wouldn’t let him in. She motioned with the tilt of her head. A silent act to have him follow her. Lockwood wiped his palms down his slacks. Inhaling and exhaling as his eyes looked out for you. When Lucy had set your tray in front of you, it took him a second to fully register seeing you. You thanked her, your stomach growling as you looked down at your lunch. Your eyesight followed up from the cups of jelly sat on the top of your tray, then continued upwards to the dark hue before you, all the way up to the new face staring back at you. You shied back, mouth opening as you looked to Lucy for your lack of recognition. She nodded. So this was him? The one you had to be gentle with. You heard the guy choke back a sob as he slowly rounded your table, kneeling before you as he grew closer. You could only watch as his hand extended forward slowly, then gently cupping one side of your face. When he touched you, he let his hands caress over your skin, realizing that it was actually you. He let out a cry of relief. Tears brimming his eyes. He cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a hug. His face fell into the crook of your neck. Then lifted to place a kiss against your temple. He pulled back, face a few inches from yours. A beaming boyish grin, staring back at you. It gave you sudden butterflies. 

“I thought I lost you...” His eyes crinkled at the corners. His other hand reached up to fix a stray hair. He felt whole again. His smile hadn’t faltered. You were here. You were okay. You somehow came out of your ghost lock, something he was curious about, but was too preoccupied to worry about at the moment. “Y-You’re eyes!” His laughter boomed out loud. “You’re beautiful eyes. I thought I’d never see them again. They’re as gorgeous as I remember them. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He nodded, trying to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.” He worked up a smile. A teasing edge in his tone. “I don’t care if you hate me for eternity. You’re demoted to research with George until further notice, no questions asked.” He laughed. It hadn’t yet dawned on him, your lack of reactions. He closed his eyes again, pressing a kiss to your temple. The act of affection was nice, but it made you question so many things. He pulled back, one hand still cupping your right cheek. He looked back to Lucy and George sat across from you, an unreadable expression on their faces. “What were you so worried about George?” He teases. A smirk formed on his lips as he took the vacant seat next to yours. He scooted it up to sit closer. Then his eyes fell onto your tray. He instantly removes the circular lid of one of the plastic cups for you. He casted a charming smile your way. Then reached for your spoon, you accepted it gratefully, digging in to stuff your empty stomach. He went to open your juice as well. George and Lucy exchanged looks as they watched Lockwood now remove the wrapping of your sandwich. He lifted his hands not finding a knife. He looked up to the serving area, there wasn’t much of a line so he took that as his chance to go. “Let me get you a knife okay.” He turned to you, getting up to place yet another kiss on your temple. As soon as he was out of earshot, George caved.

“We have to tell him!”

“No!” Lucy laughed the idea away. It shouldn’t have even been a choice. “Are you crazy?” Her chin dipped, her eyes widened. “That’d be social suicide, did you not just see how happy he was? We cannot tell him! Don’t you dare tell Lockwood, George!” She warned him with a point of her finger.

“Tell me what?” Lucy jumped in her seat, Lockwood only smiled as he took his place beside you again. He watched as you took the last bite of your jelly. When your arm reached forward to grab your drink, he had already been placing it in front of you. The cap twisted off easily since he loosened it for you. You gulp down a few sips. You side eye Lockwood who was already watching you. You gasped when you finished. A small smile on your face, one he reciprocated quickly. He opened the lid of your other cup and gave it to you. You dipped your spoon instantly. This gave him time to cut up your sandwich in a triangular way. He places the plate in front of you. Taking your trash, to throw later. He softly chuckled, when you bit into it. “Good?” He chuckled again. You hummed. “Don’t worry you’ll be back home eating real food in no time. Which reminds me I need to go talk to the doctor about when you’ll be discharged. The sooner we leave the better. Things can get back to normal...” He looked back at you. “Well as normal as things can be.” He laughed. He looked at George and Lucy, worried gazes staring back at him. 

“Okay what is with you two? You’ve been awfully quiet, and that’s not normal for you George.” 

“Care to take this one Luce?” George gestured to him.

“What? Tell me what?” He recalls her dismissal of telling George not to tell him something. Clearly a secret, it appears.

“Lockwood?” The use of his last name startled him, especially when it came from you. He snapped his head to you. Eyes furrowed, but he brushed it off. “You said I’m demoted to research?” The confusion in your eyes rattled him. “What did you mean by that?” 

“You know…research for our cases.” He mustered a light hearted laugh, but it faded slowly. He didn’t miss the way Lucy and George sat up straighter. He too sat up taller. Whereas you slouched, trying to make yourself smaller. You were clearly someone important to the person next to you, much so that he went out of his way to open your drink and cut up your food into smaller portions. Yet, you only knew so much from what Lucy quickly informed you on, before his arrival. “Lockwood?” He laughed. “Getting tired of calling me Anthony now?” He meant well, but the surprise that struck you made his smile fall. 

“Anthony?” You met Lucy’s gaze. “Oh, but you called him-” Lucy frowns, shaking her head. You realize your mistake, hand placed over your mouth. “Lucy called you Lockwood. I didn’t know I referred to you differently.”

You didn’t know?

You didn’t know you referred to him as Anthony?

“Y-You always call me Anthony...” His voice shook, eyes narrowing as dread casted over him. “You told me that my name is beautiful. That more people should say it...So you call me by my first name instead.” 

How did you not remember?

What the hell was happening?

“I do?” You were filled with guilt instantly, watching the last bit of hope leave him.

“You did.” Your heart sinks to your stomach at his use of past tense words. Lockwood’s eyes avert from yours as he starts to realize why George and Lucy were acting differently. You woke up with amnesia. Having no recollection of them whatsoever. He ran a hand down his face, then stood up. The scrape of his chair caused a few heads to turn towards him. He glanced one more time at you then stormed off. Lucy called out to him to come back.

“I didn’t mean to upset him.” You frown. Lucy holds her hands out to you, shaking her head in reassurance.

“You did nothing wrong. I promise.” She smiles quickly. “George, stay with her, okay.” She then gets up to chase after Lockwood.

“I’m sorry!” You call out to her.

“It’s not your fault, Y/n.” George smiles sadly, reaching out to rub the top of your hand placed on the table top. “Lockwood is just a bit- This whole situation is-” He couldn’t think of a word.

“Gentle...” You voice the word Lucy told you.

“Yeah…gentle.” He nodded. You stay seated, eating your lunch quietly when a loud voice can be heard. Multiple heads turn towards the source.

“Do not touch me!” You flinch in your seat, the angry voice of Lockwood echoing from down the hall, unsettles you. You glance back to George who offers a grimace. 

“Everything will be fine...” George nods, mostly saying this to convince himself.

“I think I’ll have a few words with her doctor instead!” You glance back to the hallway, then to George. 

“Mostly fine...” He lets out a light laugh.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Taglist: @wordsarelife @flareish @novausstuff @mahirublue

Part two to this post cuz it was originally too big.

“Do you have to go on this date?” Lucy whined from her bed as she watched you get yourself ready for the wrong man in her opinion. “As much as you want me to back out of this, I can’t Luce.” You said, understanding where she was getting at but Kipps believed that Lockwood was reaching his boiling point and just wanted to be the one to push him over the edge by taking you out; You originally thought that he was lying for a bit of banter but something deep down in your gut told you that there may yet be some truth to his words. So you forced yourself to seeing this bet through to it’s probable finale. “What do you mean you can’t? He isn’t hurting you is he y/n?” Lucy asked, suddenly getting to her feet and walking up behind you where she rested her hands on your shoulders, turning you to face her.

“You can tell us if he is, right?” She said softly, her eyes scanning your face for any evidence she could use to prove her case but found nothing. Which she was relieved of but it didn’t settle the unease she felt at your prior words, should she find that Kipps had been mistreating you and it wouldn’t only be her Kipps had to deal with if anything were to come to light but it would be George and Lockwood as well. You reared your head from her grasp and took her hands into your own, holding them hostage. “Yes I’m very aware that I can go to you, George and Lockwood for anything, Luce it’s very reassuring but I can safely safe that Kipps isn’t hurting or threatening me in any way shape or form.” You tell Lucy as you turned back to the full body mirror, looking over yourself for one final time.

“He’s…descent if that counts for anything, which knowing you, it doesn’t.” You added, brushing away invisible dust from your clothes before glancing over at Lucy’s reflection in the mirror. “You’re right it doesn’t but this all just doesn’t sit right in my stomach.” She tells you but before you could ask more about that. Lockwood knocked on the door before poking his head through the crack and whatever was on his mind seemingly left when he caught sight of you looking your most stunning self, that was until he came to the unfortunate realisation that none of it was for him but in fact Kipps; an thought such only made the light in his eyes dim and the tick in his jaw come back stronger then ever.

“Am I interrupting?” He asked and Lucy stood there, looking between you and Lockwood as you tried to formulate words but she cut you off with an sure fire idea in mind that’ll get you into calling off the date- and hopefully dating all together- with Kipps. “Oh your not interrupting much Lockwood but would you mind keeping y/n company? I think I hear George calling.” You and Lockwood looked to one another, not hearing a thing that could remotely be mistaken as George calling for Lucy before turning your attentions back to the redhead. “Lucy, I don’t think-“ “oh! I think I can hear him calling my name now! Have fun you two!” Lucy intervened as she brushed past you both, though not before giving Lockwood and shove further into the room, and then closing the door behind her where you heard her footfalls pounds against the stairs in a hurry.

“Did you hear anything?” You asked Lockwood, who shrugged, “not a thing, you?” He then asked and you made a gesture that indicated to him that you didn’t before looking back towards your reflection in the mirror, now feeling a tad insecure with the guy you actually liked being within the same room as you. The silence was nauseating and awkward to say the least with Lockwood taking a seat on in Lucy’s bed which was aligned with the body mirror, which also meant that whenever you went to look at yourself, your eyes would immediately drifted to Lockwood who could be found staring right back at you that only left you feeling a little hot under the collar.

It didn’t help that the way he was staring at you was the way you always wanted him to stare at you. So when given what you fantasied, it left you to suffer with the emotions that were brought to the surface you tried so hard to hide. It was an double sided sword, on one hand you got what you always wanted but on the other, you were left with a conflict of feelings on how to go about being looked at as though you had stardust embedded in you your skin and starlight sprinkled into your eyes; Lockwood made you nervous but in the best way possible and for that you both condemned and loved him for it. So as you were looking over yourself for the fifth time that day as to avoid the obvious unspoken tension flooding the room as though it were an pool.

Lockwood then decided the awkward beating of the preverbal bush you’ve both been doing as of late had gone on long enough and that something had to give. He looked down at his clasped hands, closing his eyes briefly as he allowed the words that had been clogged in his throat the moment he caught sight of you to rip themselves free from his mouth in the form of a sharp and forced tone. “I don’t want you going out with Kipps.” You stopped readjusting your shirt to look at his hunched figure through the mirror. “Why? I’d though you’d be happy that I’m going on a date?” That was a fucking lie. Lockwood opened his eyes, lifting his head to stare at you, his jaw forcibly ticked out of habit and the unreadable expression on his face only made the rampant anxiety within you worsen.

“There are better people out whom you could’ve dated instead of Kipps.” He tells you before adding a ‘he’s no good for you.’ Which only served in making you scoff humourlessly. “Oh if Kipps is such a bad fit for me, who do you suppose I should date then, you?” You jested. “Yes.” Lockwood responded without an ounce of hesitance and unnerving amount of belief in his own words that made your stomach flutter with butterfly wings and your chest blossom with a warm, fuzziness that had you feeling as though you were floating off the ground.

“What?” You spoke softly, finally turning yourself to greet him with your own eyes that were wide with shock. Lockwood stood up from the bed and moved in so close that he was practically invading your personal space, reaching to grasp both of your hands into his calloused pair that tightened their grip in almost sheer desperation for you to hear him out. “I should’ve told you along time ago y/n but I like you, a lot. No scrap that, I love you and it pains me to watch you with someone else who isn’t me holding you close, telling you how exceptional you truly are each and every day, touching you, kissing you, giving you,” with each word Lockwood moved to rest his head against your own, nose bumping nose and lips briefly brushing against one another that had your breath hitching in your throat every so often you felt his soft, plump, lips skim your own. “everything you truly deserve and so much more.”

You couldn’t breath properly from the close proximity of having his body so close, yet not close enough for your liking. Everything within you screamed to pull him in by his stupid neck tie or by his silly little lapels but your fought against those urges to see just how far Lockwood would take this before Kipps even made it to the front door. “You’re only just saying that because you don’t like the fact that Kipps got to me first.” You told him, daring to brave a smirk when you heard him inhale deeply as though attempting to hold himself back from whatever his subconscious wanted to will him into doing. You knew you were playing with fire but who didn’t want someone begging for their opportunity with them? It was quite an empowering sight and one that you could easily get high off of.

“You’re right.” Lockwood tells you, “I’m pissed at not only Kipps but at myself for allowing him the chance to get to you first but that don’t make my feelings for you any less genuine.” His hands then left yours in order to cusp your cheeks, allowing his thumbs to rub at the skin there as though it were porcelain, before one hand trailed to the back of your neck whilst the other trailed to your waist where he’d then pull you in closer so that you were chest to chest with him. “So please, don’t go on that date.” He practically whispers his wish against your lips but before you were given room to speak, George’s voice called up to you both, “Y/N! KIPPS IS HERE FOR YOUR DATE!” You then looked from the door before looking back to Lockwood who was all but staring at you as though urging you to doing the right thing.

So as you began to pull away from him with Lockwood resisting a little by gently tugging you back before letting you go completely as you neared the door before opening it to pop your head through the gap. “TELL HIM THE DATES OFF.” You shouted down at George, who then relaid your message to Kipps who could be heard laughing as he then shouts, “I WON THE BET Y/N, I’LL COME BACK TO CLAIM MY WINNINGS AFTER YOU AND LOCKY HAVE YOUR FUN!” with that Kipps had left and the door was then aptly shut behind him as the muffled conversation of Lucy and George’s shared confusion was soon filled out once you shut the door and turned back to Lockwood. “You and Kipps had a bet?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you shrugged as you crossed the room to step in front on him again, this time clutching your hands at his lapels as you brought him close to you when you continued speaking, “it was more his idea then mine but he wanted to see how much he can get away with by pretending to date me before you broke and admitted your feelings.” Lockwood huffed, “that bastard knew and he decided to turn it into a game? A game that you agreed to participate in?” Seeing that this wasn’t going how you envisioned, you swallowed thickly and decided it best to let him go and take a couple steps away from him as guilt wracked your from. “I didn’t want to participate because I thought you didn’t like me. That might be the case now because of what I did and for that I can never be truly sorry enough to earn your trust back.”

Lockwood, as mad as he wanted to be at you, couldn’t find it within him to blame you and reached for your arm, pulling you back into his arms as his head once against rested against yours.“I can never stay mad at you,” he begins, taking pride in seeing the light brought back to your eyes as you visibly perked up, “but your going to have to make up for leading me to believe that you were dating Kipps of all people.” He tells you. “What do you want?” You asked him and Lockwood’s only response was to lean in further so that your noses were bumped and your lips barely skimming each other. “A kiss would suffice nicely.”

[peachymaryobrien]

Girls don't want relationships, girls want to see their favorite Lockwood & Co scenes on screen.