#lockwood and co x oc

[justafandomgvrl]

3rd person Fem character Josslyn x Anthony Lockwood

First meeting. No warnings required. Short.

chapter one -- chapter two

It was four am. Who in their right mind could be possibly knocking at the door at four in the morning?

Lucy stumbled over her feet as she jogged down the stairs, pulling her rapier from the umbrella stand before opening the door. A girl fell through the door, collapsing into the hallway. Lucy dropped the rapier and immediately pulled the girl further into the house, shutting and locking the door behind her. George and Lockwood jogged down the stairs to see to the commotion and George froze at the sight.

"Well, are you going to help, or are you both just going to stand there like bloody lemmings?" Lucy asked and the boys snapped into action.

Josslyn woke up, face down on a couch. There was weight on her legs holding her down and someone was rubbing alcohol on her shoulder.

"There now, stay still. I'm almost finished." A soft voice said from above her. Sunlight spilled through the room, the midday sky perfectly clear. George sighed, keeping pressure on her legs as her body started to twitch.

"Lockwood." George said quietly, noticing a small scar on the small of Josslyn's back. Anthony turned from her shoulder. The girl's body was littered with scars but this was different. Jagged. Ugly. Almost angry, even.

"Lucy?" Lockwood shouted. The girl who had opened the door to Josslyn came running in, handing him an assortment of bandages and tape and scissors. "Who are you?" He asked as he noticed Josslyn's fists clenching and unclenching. He bandaged her with care, wrapping it around her shoulder and making a temporary sling for her arm from the bandages.

"Josslyn Meadows." She managed through gritted teeth. Lockwood helped her to sit up, passing her a glass of water and some codeine.

"Why are you here, instead of at a hospital?" George asked. She looked over at him as she swallowed the pain relief, hair stuck to her forehead from sweat, her cheeks tearstained.

"I don't know who shot me. But I think I know why. Which is why I came here. I know you're an agency." Josslyn mumbled. "And I think I can help you get more jobs." Everyone was suddenly more alert, listening to her a bit closer. "You have a listener, right?" Lockwood nodded, gesturing to Lucy. "I'm like a listener, but not quite. I see visions of how people died. I solved countless murder cases back home before I came to London." Josslyn said. "Someone shot me because I almost solved something they didn't want to be solved." Lockwood found a grin growing on his face.

"Thats amazing! I never heard of anyone having a talent like that. You actually see what happened?" Lucy asked. George shook his head.

"That's not possible." He mumbled. Lockwood elbowed him, perhaps not as gently as he could have. His eyes never left Josslyn's as she described her talent, gesturing awkwardly with only one hand.

"You're hired." Lockwood said.

"Where is she gonna sleep, Lockwood?" George huffed.

"There's a couch in my room. She can stay there for now. We'll figure out something more permanent when she doesn't have an injury that needs taking care of." Lockwood said with a shrug. "Welcome to Lockwood and Co, Josslyn Meadows." Josslyn grinned at him through her pain, shaking his hand with her uninjured arm.

[imaginebeingmentallystable]

SUMMARY: Lockwood and co take on yet another case. Lucy asks about the extra door in the kitchen. Why is it boarded shut?

NOTES: this is an oc insert but feel free to change the name and pronouns in your head. I'll try to use more gn terms in any other fics I write :)

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, murder, death and ✨ghosts?✨

WORD COUNT: 1303 words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The foggy London air seeped under the door of Portland Row. The smell of burnt toast and jam wafted through the house. Profanities could be heard as George Karim, Lucy Carlyle and Anthony Lockwood all rushed to extract the charred remains out of the toaster.

"I told you not to use it. It's been broken since yesterday!" George chided, dropping a piece of toast into the trash.

"Well it wouldn't be broken if someone hadn't tried to toast that silverglass!" Lucy retorted, munching on an apple instead. "How does that even work by the way?!" "That was-"

"Enough. No one uses the toaster, problem solved. We have a-" Lockwood was cut off by the echo of the doorbell. The two waited as Lucy went out to answer it.

"Oh hello!" Muffled voices filtered through to the kitchen. Soon after, the door creaked open to reveal a grinning Lucy.

"We've got a proper client."

Monty Ferguson was a cautious man. He'd spent his 83 years on this earth avoiding anything that may risk his life. So when he began to experience disturbances in his family's summer mansion, he hired agents to solve his problem as soon as possible.

Mr Ferguson set down his teacup with one pale, trembling hand. "I can pay you handsomely, just get rid of it!" he stood, as if emphasising his point. Lockwood leaned forward and eased the old man back into his seat. "That can absolutely be done, sir. Could you possibly tell us who you think it might be?"

As it turns out, Mr Ferguson did have some ideas. Specifically the idea that his dead wife, who was murdered (something he failed to mention to them. George found this in a decades old newspaper) was after him. It seemed Mrs Ferguson was set on revenge for her untimely demise.

"Chains?" "Yep." "Flares?" "Lockwood we're working inside-" "Right. Salt bombs?"

Lockwood & Co worked like a well oiled machine while preparing for the job ahead. They chatted, ate and went over plans once or twice, just in case. Twenty minutes later, they were in a cab and on the way to their destination..

Kraken Hill Estate was a grand place. The iron gates opened out to a large driveway. Gravel crunched beneath the car wheels as Lucy stared in awe at the well manicured gardens spread out on either side of them. "This place is huge! The source could be anywhere."

Lockwood, who was observing from the opposite window, replied with a sigh. "Well we know her body was found in the bedroom. Possible botched robbery, except they didn't steal anything."

George turned in his seat. "Actually, authorities believed that the body was moved. They found patches of her and someone else's blood in these very gardens." he tilted his head towards Lockwood's window. Lucy looked over at her colleagues with wide eyes and a mischievous expression. "Meeting with a secret lover?"

The car stopped before the conversation could continue. The trio lugged the gear out and up the front steps.

Lockwood pushed open the large door. As Lucy crossed the threshold, she scoffed. "Amazing. And they don't even live here half the time!"

Checkered marble floors and spotless stone tables with delicate glass vase on them greeted the agents. The paintings spotted around on the walls were clearly highly priced. The colours vivid, illuminated by the diminishing rays of sunset reflected off of the grand, glittering chandelier.

"Ah agents! Thank you for coming."

A smooth voice distracted them from the dazzling room. A rather professional looking young man made his way down the lavish (also marble) staircase. "His son." Lockwood whispered to the other two before reaching forward to shake his hand. "It's an absolute pleasure. I'm Anthony Lockwood, and these are my associates Lucy Carlyle and George." The man smiled(a chilling sight). It was more of a baring of teeth than an expression of happiness. Lucy shuddered.

"I am Richard. It's getting dark so I'll make this quick.

"The disturbances occur mainly in the upstairs parlour. Odd noises, drops in temperature and such. My father might have mentioned that he felt like he was being followed or hunted." Richard gestured back the way he came. "The stairs are that way. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a rather important dinner to get to." He exchanged a nod with George and Lockwood, then brushed hurriedly past them.

Georges eyes followed him out.

"Am I the only one who thought he was pretty suspicious?"

"He said she was following him, so it has a purpose. Probably a Type Two. Lucy?" "Nothing yet." "Temperature is 13 degrees."

The team advanced further through the house. Just as they were about to turn back, Lucy stopped abruptly, causing George to drop his torch. The thermometer beeped rapidly.

"Jesus Lucy! A little warning-" George stood back up to see not one, but two ghosts hovering a few metres ahead. "... next time." He finished weakly. There was a low pulse, then silence for a moment. Lucy's eyes snapped open. When she spoke, her voice shook.

"Run."

Footsteps thundered across the wooden floors as the ghostly pair screeched after them.

"What did you hear?!" Lockwood asked, lobbing a salt bomb at the woman, catching her in the shoulder. "He killed her! Her lover! She wanted to come clean to her husband so he killed her!" Lucy slammed the door behind them, temporarily stalling the ghosts.

George frowned. "But then who killed-" "Her son. He was in the garden that day, playing with his little brother." Lockwood ran a hand through his hair and cursed. He'd known the brothers had found the blood and the body. There was even a ball, lying in the bush behind the blood splatter. He'd been too engrossed in reading the article to notice.

Lucy was first to know that something was different. "I think we can go outside now." She whispered. George pushed open the door slowly, checking the hallway before letting them through.

Lucy closed her eyes again, listening intently. Lockwood kept one hand on his rapier. He could see the glow of plasm down the hall.

"Luce?" "Yeah I'm getting there. Down that way and to the left. I can hear laughter." She gestured opposite the ghostly forms.

George stepped forward, his rapier drawn. "Go. I'll fend them off." Before Lockwood could protest, Lucy grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

"I think it's a gift. Something her husband gave her." "Anniversary present?"

Lucy shrugged, went into the last room and began rummaging through the cabinet. Papers, ink, even a spoon, but nothing that looked like a anniversary gift.

A shout from Lockwood drew her attention to the closet. He was holding up a shiny set of pearls.

"Yes that's it!"

Lucy rushed to secure the pearls in a silverglass box. Lockwood grinned.

"One down, one to go."

Lucy was washing the dishes that evening when she noticed the door.

It was rather unremarkable, which was probably why it had gone unnoticed for so long. Lucy had never seen Lockwood or George use it and when she tried to open it, it was boarded shut.

Huh.

"Lockwood?" She called up the stairs. George was coming down them, having finished patching himself up after the Kraken Hill case. He stopped by the bottom. "What're you yelling for?"

Lucy ignored his annoyed tone.

"The door in the kitchen, the one that's boarded shut. What is it?" George opened his mouth to answer.

"It leads next door."

Lockwood emerged from the library holding a empty teacup in his hand. Lucy turned around, confused.

"Why do we have a door that leads next door?!"

Lockwood and George exchanged a look. "Well?" Lucy asked expectantly.

Why were they making those faces?

Lockwood sighed.

"An old friend used to live there. An agent. Her name was Winifred Mattes."

[bloodcanbehot]

I Wish You Would

(gotta keep that Taylor Swift theme)

Anthony Lockwood x f!reader

Content: Angst? Fluff? Touched starved Lockwood

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds, also some curse words (I think)

Characters: Anthony Lockwood and (y/n) Kipps. (Lucy Carlyle and Quill Kipps also appear)

Word count: 1.083

A/N: Exactly two people told me to post it, and that was enough (I'm literally about to enter to an online class while typing this). Chronology speaking, this goes BEFORE their first kiss but I'm a dumbass and forgot to post this one first, hope you like it

(I'll attach their first kiss here)

“Where were you?” Quill asked, seeing both Lockwood and (y/n) walk in with dirt on their faces and hair. As soon as he spoke, his sister’s face told him to not speak, unless he wanted to die.

“We’re fine!” (y/n) said, grabbing Lockwood by the arm and walking to the kitchen.

“You guys don’t look-” Lucy started, but the slamming of the door cut her off.

“Sit”

“I’m not your dog”

“And I don’t care” (y/n) said, pointing at the kitchen chair “sit down”

Lockwood did as she said, even though he didn’t want to. (y/n) started taking out items from the first aid kit, slamming them on the table as she cursed.

“I cannot fucking believe you” she said “seriously, why is it so hard for you to take care of yourself while we’re out on a case?” (y/n) asked, soaking a small piece of cotton with disinfectant. She grabbed Lockwood’s arm, forcefully moving the sleeve of his dress shirt up to see his cut better.

“(y/n) I-” Lockwood started, hissing when the cotton made contact with the cut on his arm.

“This might hurt” (y/n) said, after hearing him hissing, a smirk on her face.

“Okay” Lockwood said “I deserved that”

“You deserve more” (y/n) said “actually, you don’t even deserve me doing this for you, should I just tell my brother to do it, so you suffer a bit more?” she questioned, sarcasm all over her voice.

“(y/n)-”

“You know, when Luce told me you were reckless, I thought 'well, he's certainly not stupid' guess I was wrong!” she grabbed one of the big band aids and covered his cut.

“(y/n) I’m sorry, okay?” he said “this wasn’t reckless, I had a plan, it just didn’t work”

“Wow, what a surprise”

“I didn’t know the golden blade was gonna be there!”

“The what?” (y/n) stood up, forgetting about his other cuts.

“Last year we encountered him” Lockwood explained “we think he somehow works for Penelope Fittes-”

“My boss?”

“Yes” Lockwood nodded “he tried to steal the bone glass from Lucy and I” he explained “he’s also the one who shot me” he grabbed her hand “you have to believe me”

(y/n) looked at his eyes, processing what he had said in silence, enough to make Lockwood panic, the hold on her hand tightening.

“I… I believe you” she said, sitting back down. She wasn’t gonna lie, she always felt a weird vibe from the woman, or the entire agency for that matter. And she didn’t think Lockwood would lie to her.

He sighed in relief “Thank you (y/n)-”

“What I also believe” she started, letting go of his hand and grabbing a new cotton piece “is that your other cuts need to be taken care of” she said “specially this one” she tapped slightly the cut on his forehead, making him hiss again “I thought you were good at fencing?”

“I am” Lockwood shot back “I was just… surprised”

“Your blood says otherwise” (y/n) replied “now, lean closer so I can help”

Lockwood only nodded and whispered a small ‘yes’, letting her do the work and leaning closer as she instructed. As she leaned in, she quickly realized how her back was going to kill her if she did that, so she grabbed her chair and dragged it a bit closer to his, eventually ending up with her thigh in the middle of his thighs.

Lockwood chuckled “you might as well sit on my lap if you-”

“Shut up or I’ll do it” she cut him off with a smile.

He smirked “be my guest”

She ignored him, grabbing the back of his head to steady it as she disinfected the cut across his forehead. She was focused, focused on cleaning the blood and figuring out which bandage to use, but Lockwood’s wandering hands on her knee were distracting her.

It started with his fingers, slowly tapping her knee, barely noticeable, and she wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t kept going at it. His fingers slid across her knee and (y/n) made her best to ignore it, but as she stood up to change the cotton piece, he pushed her leg open, causing her to fall on his lap.

“That’s better” he said, smirk on his lips again.

“Lockwood-”

“Please” he said, voice so quiet she barely heard him.

She looked at his eyes, and for one moment she saw his mask crack. His dark circles and clenched jaw showed her how tired and stressed he was. She couldn’t even imagine how much his muscles ached after the fight, let alone the throbbing of the multiple cuts on his skin.

“Fine” she whispered, not trusting her own voice with the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She kept doing her thing in silence and he just watched her, tracing small circles on her sides with his thumbs. (y/n) just wanted to close her eyes and enjoy it, enjoy his touch on her skin and wish she could feel it for longer, to forget about the case, the fight, everything. She wanted to focus on him and him only.

“There” she said, breaking whatever spell was between them. She grabbed his chin, angling his face to admire the, now taken care of, cut “you’ll live”

He chuckled, smiling truthfully for the first time that night, or since (y/n) knew him, she didn’t care. She liked the small glow on his face.

They locked eyes, the blanket of silence settling on them again. (y/n)’s fingers slid across his chin towards his jaw, making him close his eyes and just enjoy her touch. His hands started moving up her waist, slowly, also making her want to close her eyes and enjoy, but she still leaned forward, closer and closer to him.

He felt it, the weight shift on his lap, some of her curly locks tickling his shoulders.

She could feel their lips almost touching.

The door opened, making her open her eyes wide and snap her neck so hard she wondered if this is how she was going to die. That would be better than the image she saw.

Both Lucy and her brother were standing at the doorstep. (y/n) stumbled off Lockwood’s lap, feeling his hands fly away from her and almost fell. Chair and all.

She gripped the thinking cloth “I was tending his cut” she stupidly said.

She could feel how Quill resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as she looked at him.

“You sure were”

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

A/N: I feel like this scene and the other one are pretty similar, so if I do write the fanfic I'll change it, but let me know what you think! (Again, be nice)

[deadsnothere]

HE WAS AWAKE?!

synopsis - Someone who's to stubborn finally asks for help but also gets a love confession in their "sleep"

Masterlist

request - No

Word Count - 1.1k

Speak Ali! - This was full impulse don't expect anymore out of me- (do expect more out of me) Unless i feel like it. But I might not- Who knows honestly. Please send in request!! I am only accepting Lockwood right now, sorry :(

HE WAS AWAKE?! Pt.2

Lockwood barley asks for help,

And we all know it. He's an idiot who thinks he can do everything alone, no matter what. Me, George, And Lucy are always his anchors, we keep him from doing the stupidest shit, even if that means distracting him in less than ideal ways. Like aggressive flirting, just to let Lucy steal a case file. But we still get it done.

So when Anthony Lockwood himself knocked on my door at 2 in the morning with the most exhausted look on his face, let's just say I was more than concerned.

I was changing out of my ‘work’ shirt to put on an undershirt to fall asleep in. I'd been working on a new flare design all night and the shirt I was originally going to go to bed in had ash and grease all over it. when I heard a knock on the door. There he was my roommate, Employer, and “crush”, Anthony Lockwood. “Ant, what's up?- It's 2:36 in the morning, I was about to get in bed-”

His face screamed tired, his eye bags were deeper than normal and his hands were playing with the seam of his pajama pants pocket, like he does when he's nervous.

“I-” He whispered as if he was hesitant to ask in the first place. ”I can't sleep and I always sleep best when- You're in my room…just-” The way he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground, told me he was embarrassed. “Can I just sleep in here tonight…?” Anthony looked almost as if he regretted asking, like he should've just walked away instead of knocking on the door; Which he now stood in front of, wide open.

I nodded along with his words, moving away from my door and walking to my bed. “Just close the door after you come in, sleeping with it open-” He finished the sentence with me, already knowing what I was going to say. “-‘gives me anxiety’ I know Ali.”

When he walked into the room slowly, he was looking around at the posters and metal creations that hung from the walls and ceiling. There were things like metal dragons, butterflies with dazzling colors, Firefly's with handcrafted wings and many more insects and mystical creatures. “After we complete big cases I make a little statue and I hang it around the room…It's like reminding myself how far I’ve come.” His eyes landed on me next, I was already sitting on the bed, smiling at him warmly, my eyes closed, head leaned back from exhaustion.

“Come on Ant.” I patted next to me, laying down on my back moving closer to the wall so he had room to lay down to.

His posture says he's confident, like he's not afraid to make a wrong move. But his eyes are different. They look so hesitant, so terrified of how this could look to other people.

After a case went bad yesterday, Barnes called me Anthony's lover. He's been on edge since then, Maybe it hurt a bit when he got so defensive over the fact that I was in fact not his lover. It already hurts when I know he's just a flirty person to get what he wants, that when he flirts with me it doesn't mean I'm special. Now this? At least I know he doesn't like me back, before I went and tried to ask him on a date or something.

I faced towards the wall when he climbed into the bed, pulling the soft blanket over us both. Our routine moved like it did when I went into his room to sleep. His arm hooked under my body and pulled me into his chest, which felt cool with the silk pajama shirt he had on at the moment. Our legs tangled together, his face was pressed into the nape of my neck, and our breathing matched almost perfectly. This felt so normal, so nonchalant. But this is Lockwood we're talking about! He wouldn't do this with just anyone! Would he?

Ok, no he wouldn't- But he just trusts me! We’ve been friends for years, of course he trusts me. It's obvious I’m just a friend to him, and yes maybe it's not a friend thing to cuddle up to your friend while you press your face into their neck…like I said he just trusts me! It's a simple platonic thing to do when you go to a friend you trust for help sleeping!

But it would be so nice if he didn't mean it in a friendly way..For him to hold my hand, and laugh and walk with me to go on a date, Or maybe to cook dinner for our kids or babysitting…That sounds like heaven, an unrealistic heaven. But to be fair I do already basically babysit, but it's always me and George babysitting, not me and lockwood, mainly because we're babysitting him and Lucy during cases but still I can dream.

I turned my head around just enough to see his face, eyes closed, breathing soft, and nose pushed against my neck still. I tried to turn just enough to not wake him up but also be able to see him. I'm really hoping I didn't wake him up, or that he was really asleep, because this next part would be embarrassing if I did.

I placed a hand on his face, kissing the top of his head and running my hand through his hair. “I Love You, Anthony Lockwood. You stupid self-sacrificing idiot.” I turned around all the way and moved up a bit, his face laid on my chest, and my arms wrapped around his head holding him close.

Finally comfortable enough to fall asleep. It's been so long since I got a good sleep in my own bed, maybe the feeling of his hands on my back, pushing me closer to him, really did help me sleep, Maybe it made me feel protected, like I can be vulnerable again, like i'm safe in his ar- “Did you just call me a self-sacrificing idiot?-” SHIT-

thank you for reading to the end of this shit :D i can't promise a part two but hey i'll try.

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

Ive not requested anything before so I’m not really sure what to say, sorry if this doesn’t make any sense

But an Anthony Lockwood enemies to lovers would be so good, like maybe she’s friends with Lucy and followed her to London but cant stand Anthony, in the beginning at least.

I’ve been looking for one and i cant seem to find any, maybe I’m not looking hard enough lmao.

Thank you :) :) :)

HATE YOU AND I HATE MYSELF FOR LOVING YOU TOO

Blades clashed and scraping occurred, grating the ears of those near. 

“Feeling tired?” 

“Not in the slightest.” I sneered, determined to win this match. I knocked his blade to the floor, pointing mine at his neck. “Touché. How does it feel to lose?” 

“I haven’t.” He used his foot to whisk his rapier back into his hand, flicking mine expertly and letting it hit the wall far away, putting me in the position I put him a second ago. “You have. Sorry, Rhys, but you’ll have to do better next time. But better still won’t be enough.” 

“Shove off, you narcissistic sod.” I spat, picking up my rapier. “You’ve played that move so many times it’s old.” 

“Yet it always works. I wonder why.” 

Blades clashed and scraping occurred, grating the ears of those near. 

“Feeling tired?” 

“Not in the slightest.” I sneered, determined to win this match. I knocked his blade to the floor, pointing mine at his neck. “Touché. How does it feel to lose?” 

“I haven’t.” He used his foot to whisk his rapier back into his hand, flicking mine expertly and letting it hit the wall far away, putting me in the position I put him a second ago. “You have. Sorry, Rhys, but you’ll have to do better next time. But better still won’t be enough.” 

“Shove off, you narcissistic sod.” I spat, picking up my rapier. “You’ve played that move so many times it’s old.” 

“Yet it always works. I wonder why.” 

“Because you’re a one-trick pony?” 

“Not as bad as a no-good, has-been sloth.” We made faces as each other, Lockwood going back to George and me to Lucy and Artemis. “How am I meant to win against him?” 

“I dunno. I can’t spot any weakness.” Lucy shrugged. Artemis shook her head, laughing. 

“Wrong way to see this, Lucy. We agreed that this match has no rules. Play it that way.” Artemis strategised. “He’ll follow the rules of fencing better than you will, and I have one more thing you can try.” 

“What?” 

“Seduction. Works every time.” 

“Oh come on, Arty, that isn’t fair.” Lucy tutted. 

“Anthony Lockwood gets surprised at the thought of any woman being interested in him, especially this woman.” She gestured to me. “Give it a whirl, girl, and if it doesn’t help you win then you can slap me.” 

I stepped up, determined, wielding my rapier. “Ready to lose, Lockwood?” 

“I’ve never lost to you before, then why now?” 

“Oh, you’ll see, handsome.” I lightly ran my finger down the curve of his jaw, giving an attractive smirk. Lucy watched, surprised that I was capable of flirting, George gave Lockwood a side eye and Artemis just chuckled. It actually was working.

“That’s our girl.” She grinned folding her arms. “Now watch Lockwood’s reaction.” 

“H-Handsome?” He stammered, adjusting his tie. 

“Yeah, a real sight for sore eyes.” I winked, making George burst out into gales of laughter. This threw Lockwood off, but he still shakily raised his rapier. I raised mine, flicking back my hair. 

“En garde.” 

“Prêts?” 

“Allez!” Still flustered, Lockwood was distracted, giving time for me to cleanly sweep his rapier out of his hand, lodging it into the wall. Artemis fist bumped me, both the ladies acting as my wingwomen in this situation.

“How’s that for a no-good, has-been sloth?” I boasted, putting my rapier back in my scabbard. 

“That isn’t fair. You flirted with me!” He protested. 

“Last time I checked, the only rule was fight with a rapier.” Artemis argued back. “Rhys won fair and square.” 

“It worked, surprisingly.” Lucy added. “Come on, Rhys, we’ll go for tea outside to celebrate.” 

“Tea without me?!” George called. 

“You’re Lockwood’s wingman, not Rhys’!” 

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸

We were sitting in the locally famous cafe Just A Cuppa, drinking tea and coffee and eating delicious pastries. Artemis had taken us here after being recommended the place, but so far no one had said anything. Artemis and Lucy were giving me looks and then exchanging them. 

“What?” I asked, exasperated. 

“Did you see how much Lockwood was simping for you before the fight?” Lucy smirked. 

“No, we hate each other.” 

“Or you love each other. You came here with Lucy, I know that, and instead of love at first sight it was hate at first sight, but everything’s changed. Might I remind you, Rhys, that when you first came here, you couldn’t flirt to save your life.” Artemis reminisced. “Gave Marco a little bit of a scare.” 

“And now you can easily flirt with Lockwood of all people? Put two and two together, hobo, you’re meant to be!” Lucy added. 

“Meant to be?!” I scoffed. “More like meant to stay away.” 

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“Did she… flirt with me?” Lockwood asked. 

“You doth be shooketh.” George chuckled. “She got you real good.” 

“But no, we hate each other! She can’t like me!” 

“Yes she can.” 

“She does. You like her too. Obviously.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“Maybe. Can you ask her and report back to me-“ 

“I’m not an owl!” George snapped. “You’re acting like the arrogant version of Anthony Lockwood.” 

“But I am Anthony Lockwood.” Lockwood was slapped on the head with a newspaper, making him wince. “Sorry.” 

“Try being compassionate for once. Maybe you’ll get the girl.” 

“Try being what now?” 

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Everyone was playing cards earlier, a nice, fun- 

Scratch that. 

A tense, pressurising, EXTREMELY COMPETITIVE game of Bluff. 

“One ace.” Lockwood announced, throwing his card down. Rhys was next to him, so obviously, fuelled by her deep love hatred for the boy, picked it up, but something was written on the card. 

I LOVE YOU, RHYS. 

I didn’t have time to process it when I felt a pair of lips on mine, the sensation so perfect and inviting that I lost control of my body, my arms wrapping around their neck. When I pulled back, my eyes widened in horror. 

“Lockwood?” 

“That’s me.” He grinned, eyelids flickering. I had seen that everyone left the room, so I pulled him back for a kiss again, obliging to being pulled into his lap. 

“I… hate… you…” I mumbled between kisses. 

“I… hate… you… too.” 

“Nah, you love each other.” 

“No doy, Sherlock!”

[shadowchild13]

New Lockwood & Co Fic over on Wattpad. 

[evachuart]

OC drawing, this is my Lockwood & Co OC named Liza!!

Age: 16

Talent: Touch

She doesn’t have much lore but she is energetic and loud most of the time

[waterloou]

• Lockwood and Co Ocs •

The Morgan Siblings, freelance talent for hire.

Gilbert “Gib” Morgan, 19, Eldest son of late Jonathan and Marissa Morgan(died from ghost touch 5 years ago). Has the talent of touch and is not well known in the business, but he and his little sister have managed to get by. He was employed in a local agency a year before his parents death and up until his sister woke up fully. Incredibly awkward around anyone he’s not making a business deal with, and babies his sister far too often in her opinion. Likes books, tea, his programs, and knitting. Taught himself how to knit a silver net.

Ruby Morgan, 16, daughter of late Jonathan and Marissa Morgan. Has the talent of sight and spent two years ghost locked after her parents death. That hasn’t deterred her from helping her brother on his various ghost cases. She’s got no brain to mouth filter and comes off as blunt but she always means well. Incredibly smart and will let everybody know it. Has occasional flashbacks from being ghost locked that she hasn’t let her brother know about. Likes biscuits, sweets, books, George Karim, antiques, and fiddling with technology.

The two operate out of a small, one bedroom flat in the heart of london. Ruby has commandeered the room, whilst Gib has taken over the living room. Their supplies are hidden all over the apartment and all meetings take place on the kitchen floor. It’s not much, but it’s home.

@darth-caillic @bisexualterror @richitozier @veetlegeuse @kbeebaybe

[ms-fade]

Do you write for Lockwood and Co because I’ve seen one or two fics on your page but can’t see the list of characters on your list and was just wondering who you wrote for :)

Yes I do! Also others too

Characters

[sabinesybill]

Queen of Hearts

Link in the title 🌙

☀️6.3k

☀️Found family

☀️Hurt/Comfort

☀️Gift giving as a love language

☀️ can be read as platonic but 💅

☀️Holly/Lucy, locklyle, Lucy/Norrie

[justafandomgvrl]

3rd person Fem character Josslyn x Anthony Lockwood

chapter one -- chapter two

warning: swearing

Josslyn had taken longer to heal than she wanted to. She could barely hold her rapier, let alone defend herself. It irked her beyond belief.

Lockwood had been kind about it. He'd told George and Lucy that Josslyn was sleeping on the sofa, but the very first night he laid her down in his bed and took the couch for himself. And to his credit, he hadn't asked about the scar.

George had. Every day. She never answered him, but it didn't deter him. She would answer him one day, but that day was far, far away.

For now though, she was content. She almost felt safe, sipping on the dregs of a hot cup of tea that Lucy had made for her.

"And that's how we destroyed the mirror." George finished his excited babble and Josslyn smiled at him.

"Sounds like I missed out on something exciting." Josslyn whispered, wincing as she put her cup down. "Except all of it sounds terrifying and I'm very glad I wasn't involved." Lockwood snorted into his teacup before taking a sip, passing it off as a cough. Lucy raised an eyebrow, noticing his arm resting on the back of Josslyn's chair. He chose to ignore her.

"It was terrifying." Lucy said. "We almost died almost a hundred times for that bloody thing." She added. Josslyn bit back a smile as she stood up.

"I'm going to get changed." She said, disappearing up into Lockwood's room. She was living in his hoodies and shirts and Lucy's jeans - everything was just a bit too big but it was comfortable and better for her arm while it healed.

Lockwood sighed as he pulled his arm from the empty chair.

"You trust her." George said and Lockwood turned to him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at the note on the cloth Lockwood's a prick.

"It's been two weeks and she's still sleeping in your room." Lucy pointed out. "Could've moved some stuff out of the library and put a small bed in there for her. But you haven't even suggested it, bet you haven't even thought of it." Lockwood paused, opening his mouth to answer but they got cut off from shouts upstairs.

"Fuck! Shit!" Josslyn's voice travelled through the house and Lockwood immediately left the table. George slid a five pound note across the table to Lucy.

"Josslyn? You alright?" He called, knocking on his own bedroom door. Two weeks ago it would've felt strange. Now it felt natural.

"I... I need help. But you can't look." Her voice eventually came back and he opened the door stepping inside and freezing on the spot when he realised she was half changed. "Shut the bloody door!" She hissed and he shook his head, looking at the ceiling as he closed the door. "I got stuck pulling the t-shirt on. Just help me get my arm through." She muttered. Lockwood swallowed but walked over to her, looking anywhere but at her. His eyes flitted to her face as he eased her arm through the sleeve of his t-shirt and she pulled it down the rest of the way immediately.

"You got it from here?" He asked, his hand lingering on her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed as his fingers brushed her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

"Yeah, yeah... Ive got it." She muttered, pulling away from him and pulling one of his hoodies on. "Thanks, for, well, you know." She mumbled, disappearing past him out of his room. He paused, realising that all the clothes she had previously borrowed were folded neatly by the bed.

Lucy and George, to their credit, didn't say anything about it when everyone was back around the table.

"The murder I've been solving. I think it took place in a small cottage out near Piccadilly." Josslyn said, eager to wipe the memories of what had happened from her mind. "I just need to make a stop and find the source. Then I'll go take care of it." She said and Lockwood shook his head.

"On your own? You can't even hold your rapier long enough to fight. We're going with you." He said firmly. She began to argue but he cut her off. "I hired you. That makes me your boss. You won't go alone. That's final." He added and Josslyn sighed, going quiet.

--

Part three may have more action 👀

[imaginebeingmentallystable]

34 Portland Row // part 2

SUMMARY: Lockwood and George explain a little, and Lucy finds out why Winnie left. Winnie's brother shows up at Portland Row??

NOTES: this is an oc insert but feel free to change the name and pronouns in your head. I'll try to use more gn terms in any other fics I write :) I changed my mind it's now a Lockwood x oc B)

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, swearing, death

WORD COUNT: 1072 words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"Mattes?! Like the Mattes family, one of the richest families in London?" 

Lucy gaped. She'd never expect a daughter of the Mattes family to live in anything less than a mansion. 

Lockwood sighed. "Yes. Like that. She bought the house when we decided to start the agency. Said we needed to keep home and work separate."

George looked pointedly at Lockwood, urging him to finish the story. Lockwood glared at him before continuing. 

"We had a bit of a row-" 

"He means he risked his and our lives one too many times-" 

"-and she left. Just a few months before we hired you, actually." 

Lucy looked between the two. 

"Okay." 

Lockwood took that as permission to leave and take his teacup into the kitchen. 

George sighed too. "It was more than just a row. He doesn't like talking about it because he said some… hurtful things."

"Ah."

Lucy thanked him with a nod and climbed the stairs to the attic room. 

There was clearly more to Lockwood's relationship with Winifred than they'd mentioned. Lucy flopped into bed with a frustrated growl. 

She'd thought they were done with secrets.

Lockwood had been staring at the ceiling for two hours now. 

He'd tried hard to forget about his fight with Winnie, but the question had been inevitable. Of course Lucy would notice the door (she wasn't blind), he'd just (foolishly) hoped she wouldn't ask about it. 

Giving up on trying to sleep, Lockwood threw back his covers and crept down the stairs to get a cup of tea. 

He put the kettle on and sat down, memories of that night flashing through his mind. 

The raised voices of Winifred and Lockwood followed by the slam of the front door. 

"You promised me! You said it was the last time-" "Well it worked didn't it?!"  "That means nothing if we're dead- if you're dead!"

Lockwood turned on her. 

"I don't need you to baby me-"  "Baby you- GOD WHEN WILL YOU UNDERSTAND? IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT YOU. That stunt you just pulled-"  "That 'stunt' saved your arse, as I seem to remember. And what were you doing to help? NOTHING-"  "DON'T YOU EVEN-"  "Oh PLEASE. Let's stop pretending there's any reason you still work here other than your funding-" 

Winnie pulled her hand back and slapped him. Her voice dripped with venom as she spoke. 

"Anthony John Lockwood. You are the biggest, most massive PRICK I ever saw! Your family would be ashamed and I'll be damned if I ever come back here!" 

She turned away but not before Lockwood spotted the tears beginning to streak her skin. 

But he was still mad. Besides, she would leave anyway. Everyone did.

"WELL WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? FUCK OFF." 

She hadn't come home that night. 

When Lockwood had gone up the next morning to apologise, he'd found an incredibly pissed off George holding a hastily written note. He'd been shocked. This hadn't been their first fight but..

They'd only gotten back on speaking terms the week before Lucy had arrived on the doorstep. Even then, LOCKWOOD IS A DICK had been inscribed on the thinking cloth. 

"Can't sleep?" 

George leaned on the doorframe, a knowing look on his face. Lockwood offered a tight smile before getting up to turn off the kettle. 

The sound of water being poured filled the short silence. 

"I didn't tell her by the way."

George accepted his tea gratefully. Lockwood grimaced. 

"We promised no more secrets."  "So. You'll tell her?"  "... Yeah."

On the other side of London, Winifred Mattes was suffocating. 

Her dress was too tight, her makeup was millimetres away from being a face mask, and the idiot she was conversing with (if you could call it that) kept trying to stick his sweaty hand up her skirt. 

She'd never have to deal with this shit if she'd stayed at Portland Row. 

A tap on her shoulder provided a merciful refuge from the hell that was this party. Maybe it was her brother-

Her hopes were dashed when she turned around and saw her aunt. 

"So sorry for the interruption, but I must speak with my dear niece." Claudia wore a polished smile, but her gaze was sharp, digging deep into her and pulling. 

As soon as they were out of his range of hearing, her aunt scowled. 

"Could you look any more uninviting?!" 

Winnie internally rolled her eyes. Here we go.. 

Surprisingly, Claudia didn't make any more comments on her lack of interest. 

"Would you like to explain to me why there is a ghost still haunting the Nightlock Hall mansion?"                                                        "I can't-" 

"You can and you will do it alone, for that young man of yours. Besides, you've done it before. Do you know how this looks when my own niece, the co-owner of the house, is a bloody agent?! We cannot let them think you are incompetent. Do not bring shame to this family."

Winnie pried herself from her aunt's grip. 

"I'll fix it."

She said quietly, stomach churning. Her aunt had complete control over her. 

It was disgusting

The emerging morning light revealed Lockwood asleep on the kitchen table. 

Lucy wondered briefly if she should leave him there, but decided to shake him awake. 

He groaned. Lockwood's neck had been at an odd angle all night and now he was suffering the consequences. 

"Lucy," He yawned, "I need to talk to you later." 

She stayed quiet. So she was right. There was more to this Winifred situation. 

"Toast?" She asked instead, sipping on her recently made cup of tea. A look of surprise flashed across Lockwood's face, before he nodded. 

George chose this moment to reveal himself. 

"Good morning."

Lucy jolted, nearly spilling her tea. 

"GEORGE! When did -were you there the whole time?!" She set down her cup, watching him with wide eyes. 

"Yes." He replied simply, grabbing. A cup of his own.  

Lucy rolled her eyes, exasperated, causing Lockwood to smirk. Last night's conversation was forgotten… For now. 

The rest of the morning was spent reading, chatting and in George's case, experimenting with the skull jar. It was, overall, pretty uneventful. 

It had just started raining when a frantic knock at the door interrupted the quiet of the house. 

"Door!" George called from the kitchen.     

Both Lockwood and Lucy got to the door at the same time. Lucy eyed a rapier as Lockwood greeted the person at the door. 

But before he could get past a friendly 'Hello', the stranger spoke. 

"My name is Julian Mattes and I need your help."

A/N: okay but does anyone else just imagine Lockwood and Lucy having a moment and George just somewhere in the background like OMFG I'm trying to read here-

[bloodcanbehot]

I’m still working on my Lockwood fanfic, but if I do start posting it (which would be on wattpad) do you guys want me to post it here? I don’t know if I should post it as and oc fic or a reader fic tho (my oc’s name is Camille btw)

[deadsnothere]

I wanna be dirty!

Synopsis - After a case went a bit south, Lockwood came home and got bandaged up by Alias on his bed. While somehow moving to the subject of their sex lives, leading to something more. Also known as A song fic from the rocky horror show song -

Touch-a, Touch-a Touch me.

Masterlist

Request - no

Word Count - 1.6k

Proof read - Yes and no? I gave up half way through because it's 2 am please give feedback

Speak Ali!! - Guys i'm dying, If this is good tell me, if this is bad tell me. I want your genuine answer before i make a part two of my cafe fic because i don't want it to be bad. Also REQUEST LOCKWOOD STUFF!! I'm currently working on two request which i'm very excited for!!

“I was feeling done in…couldn't win.”

I sighed softly while cleaning Anthony's wounds, sat on his bed. He’d gotten hurt while on a case and came back to the house with it not bandaged up, So I was bandaging his scrapes and bruises. He honestly looked kind of hot. His white button up was open, his belt was unbuckled and his hair was messed up. All while he was hot and sweaty. God what i’d do for this man to rai-

-Back on track! How we got to the subject of my sex life, I'm not sure but here we are. “I’d only ever kissed before.” this still baffles me, I mean i'm sat here talking to Lockwood of all people about my sex life! The one I barely have- but he’s still intently listening either way. “I thought there's no use getting…into heavy petting.” I just shrugged my shoulders. ‘Why is his hand getting close to my chest? WHY AM I THE ONE MOVING IT CLOSER-’ I pulled it away, blinking almost like I'd woken up from a daze. His face looked as if it were bright red, but he didn't move his hand away, until I moved it myself. Is he enjoying this?

“It only leads to trouble and…seat wetting.” I put the cap on the alcohol, and put the bandages up. God, Anthony's stare is killing me, he's looking at me like a lost puppy with his wide eyes and pretty face, boring into my skin, sending a chill down my back. "Now all I want to know.” I placed a hand on his shoulder, unbuttoning the top button of my shirt. His hands reached up to undo the rest. “Is how to go. I've tasted blood and I want more.” Anthony slowly unbuttoned my entire shirt, I let him push the cotton material off my shoulders. I took my hand off his shoulder, lifting my skirt up to tease him. “I'll put up no resistance.” He grabbed my hands, placing my forearms on his shoulders pulling me closer.

“I want to stay the distance.” He grabbed my hips, pulling at the band of my skirt. “I've got an itch to scratch. I need assistance!” I pulled him into me slowly, his hands moved to grip on his bed sheets, Almost not able to look away. “Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch-a Touch me!” He moved back in his bed, eyes mesmerized by my body. He waved for me to move with him and pulled me up to be face to face. I whispered in his ear. “I wanna be dirty.” Anthony's face was bright red as I moved down on his body, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck, shoulder, and chest all the way until I got to his happy trail. “Thrill me, Chill me, Fulfill me!”

“A-Alias..I never thought you would- be this bold.” I giggled softly pulling at his belt. “Well just give me the word and i’ll stop-” Anthony almost jumped to say, “No!- No god, please don't stop.” I let myself giggle, before finally pulling his belt off. “Now if anything grows.” I trailed a finger across his tented pants, a smile growing when he jerked from the small, sudden contact. “While you pose.” I mocked him by doing his stupid smirk, making him laugh at me. “I’ll oil you up and rub you down..” I pulled the zipper of his pants down in one swift motion. God, he is hot.

“and that's just one small fraction of the main attraction.” Slowly I crawled forwards at head level again, while using my right hand to unbutton Anthony's pants. “You need a friendly hand?” I pushed myself up, now stood on both knees towering over him. He moved with me sitting up to be able to see me better. Grabbing both of his hands in mine, “Ohh, I need action!” I placed them on my tits, still in my bra, giggling when Anthony's eyes grew wide, a smile coming soon after. “Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch me!” I definitely sounded more desperate. The feeling of his hands was amazing. I've been dreaming this night. He used his hands to play with my tits, squishing them together, squeezing them in his hands, once again mesmerized by my body. “I wanna be dirty!” I pushed him down on the bed laughing when he made an ‘omph!’ sound.

I lowered my head to kiss his neck, this time leaving a few hickeys. My hands pulled down his pants, then his boxers. Him lifting his hips to help me. Crawling backwards I landed on the floor. When Anthony sat up he was already in the perfect position. sitting on my knees, I pulled his pants and boxers off all the way. Taking the tip of his cock into my mouth, coating it in my spit and popping off of it once more. “I'm not going to be the best at this..” He laughed at my nervousness. “Don't laugh at me-!”

He cut me off by cradling my face in his hands, and slowly pushing my head down onto his cock. “don't worry just let me guide you.” he whispered out in a husky tone, pushing my head in rhythm. I opened my throat the best i could trying to relax, his hips buck into my mouth, quietly groaning. The closer he got to cumming the faster his pace went, I could feel the hand prints that were going to be left on my face after he was done with me.

“Swallow.” IS THAT THE ONLY WARNING I GET- Suddenly I felt a hot liquid go down my throat, only having to swallow the bit that landed in my mouth during Anthony’s last thrust. He was quick to pull out of my mouth, leaning down to kiss my cheeks softly, while running his hands through my hair. “You did so good taking me, darling. So good.” I stood up quickly, almost falling from dizziness due to the speed of my movement. Steadying myself, I sat on Anthony's lap, Kissing at his neck and grinding my hips down creating friction. he pushed my head away and instead went to leave hickeys on my neck. “Use your words darling, what do you want?” – “I want to have my way with you.” His eyes widened when I so desperately asked for his body.

“I’ll do anything you please. Suck your cock again, fuck myself on your fingers, Just please give me something.” Every word left him more and more speechless. “I-”

He didn't speak for a few seconds, simply laying himself down and drawing my hips up. “Sit on my face, I’ll give you the best orgasm you've ever felt.” I moved without thinking, pulling down my panties, crawling forwards to him, almost nervous to have my cunt so close to his face. He hooked his arms around my thighs pulling me down to sit on his face. “Oh shit!” I gasped in surprise, shuttering when his tongue came to lick and suck at my clit. God, it made a chill go down my back. His tongue pushed into my cunt in one quick motion, he was using his arms to guide my hips on his tongue making this feeling absolutely perfect. Slowly a coil started to form in my stomach, and unlike its building it quickly broke.

when I moved away from his face he was covered in my cum, using his hands to wipe and lick it off his fingers. “You taste so good.” I knew he was lying, Cum tasted horrible I should know. But the way he absolutely devoured what was on his fingers, like he was having his last meal before the electric chair, I almost believed him. We both laid on his bed for a minute, before I finally got up and went to the bathroom, coming back out with a towel and wet washcloth. Anthony is now sitting back with his back to his head board. He took it from me as soon as I got to bed. Wiping his mouth off first, and then focusing on me purely.

“I can't get enough of you.” Anthony kissed my cheek. It was quiet while he cleaned us both off. Neither of us wanted to whisk the comforting silence away. Until he finally spoke up. “What does this make us now?” I shrugged my shoulders letting him lean his chin on my stomach, looking up at me. “What do you want to be Lockwood?” He grinned at me with his megawatt smile. “Well if you're going to be my girlfriend I don't think you should call me Lockwood. I much prefer Anthony from you.” “Well Anthony, I like that as well.”

The next thing I knew I was holding his head in my arms falling fastly asleep, content in where the night took us.

–

“So we're murdering them when they wake up right?” Lucy nodded along with George who was making tea in the kitchen. “It's either murder or they get us noise canceling headphones.” He agreed, laughing turning into the fake crying.

If this is bad I'm sorry, Anyways- this is basically a test before I write part 2 of the café fic- Because im scared it won't be well and ya'll will be disappointed :D SO PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!

[raised-u-fr0m-perdition]

the girl that kindness forgot | 5

TALK ABOUT IT SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW

Quote of the chapter: “What’s that for? A sort of Boy Scout agent swearing thing you’ve learnt?”

…

"What's a piano doing in my living room?" Lockwood fumed, glaring at me while I was finishing a mug of coffee. 

"Place was feeling a little numb. The piano made it more homely." 

"This is my home. It's already homely, that's why it's called a home- you know what? I can't be asked. Where's George?" He left the room, leaving me in the living room. I ran my hand lightly over my dad's old piano, my thumb stroking our names carved into the right hand corner, filled in with gold ink. It was beautiful, made with mahogany. I pulled the stool out, taking the cover off carefully and running my hands over the keys. And that's when I thought about our song. That beautiful song that we made our own. That's when my hands started to play and I started singing the words.

“I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand I felt the earth beneath my feet Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting tired and I need someone to rely on

I came across a fallen tree I felt the branches of it looking at me Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? This could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know Somewhere only we know

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need someone to rely on So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know? 'Cause this could be the end of everything So why don't we go Somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know…” I reached up to wipe a tear, but something stopped me.

"What's that awful song?" Lockwood had appeared again, but Lucy was behind him, trying to whisper something urgently. "Honestly, you could play anything, Bach, Mendelssohn, Einaudi and you choose that?" 

"Lockwood!" Lucy snapped, eyes steely. "Can I have a word with you outside?" 

"Like- outside, outside?" 

"Out. Side." She took Lockwood outside, slamming the door. I ran upstairs, closing my suitcase and picking up my jacket, putting it on before calling my chauffeur, walking downstairs. 

"Thanks, Marco." I cut the call, and found George on the landing. 

"Where are you going?" The look on my face said enough, and then the truth dawned upon him.

"He insulted it, didn't he?" I nodded, fighting back tears. "I bet Lucy's having a right go at him right now, and speaking of which, so should I. Just... take care of yourself, yeah?" 

"Thanks, George." I went out of the front door, and sat in my car with my driver, unnoticed by either Lucy or Lockwood. 

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!" Lucy scolded, folding her arms. 

"Insulting a stupid song." 

"That's no stupid song. Artemis' father used to sing it to and with her all the time. It was their song. And they didn't even get a proper goodbye, so you've been a real flippant jerk." Lockwood had a brutal realisation of what he did. He had plenty of memories of his parents and every mention of them broke him inside bit by bit. And his rival was suffering the same losses and he tore her right down to the ground. 

"I..." For the first time, he had no words. 

"You need to apologise to her." 

"Lockwood!" George was running down the steps, and he looked mad too. "Artemis just left and you didn't even notice!" 

"Left?" Lucy gasped. 

"Where did she go?" Lockwood asked. 

"To SP3CTR HQ of course. She even left a note at the table saying she couldn't bear with this anymore. Apparently something was getting too overwhelming." 

"We can't do this without her. We need to get her."

•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸•´¨*•.¸¸.•*´¨•.¸¸.•´¨*•.¸¸.•*•´¨•.¸¸.•´¨`•.¸

I couldn't be around those three. Every day my communication powers broadened and I could feel it all piling on me like a tower of Jenga, ready to collapse on me at any given moment. 

"Miss Hernandez, Inspector Barnes is here to see you." Laila called, so I stopped looking through my bookshelves for something, one thing that could help me. 

"Send him in." I straightened my suit just as Barnes walked in, stopping in front of my desk. 

"Good morning, Miss Hernandez." He greeted, nodding.

"Same to you, Barnes. Is the transaction done?" 

"Yes, it's paid. Anything else you need me to do?" 

"Yeah." I paused before looking at him. "Have you ever heard of a ghost with a psychical connection and a direct satanic connection?" 

"Never." He walked over to a sketch I'd drawn and was studying relentlessly. "Is that it?" 

"Yeah." I clicked my tongue. "This is what killed my dad and put my family in ghost lock. It gave me powers and now it's haunting every single memory or dream I possess."

"Is it not a Type 3?" 

"Visitors, phantoms, they can't hold tangible objects. This one was holding a the most ancient and valuable relic in history. Satan's dagger." A look of disbelief and fear unusually crossed Barnes's face; no one had seen Satan's dagger since it being forged. Until it resurfaced in the attempt to murder my family.

"It's not possible. It went missing right after it was forged." 

I pointed to the scar over my eyebrow, the gap and scar both visible. "Is it really impossible?"

"It attacked you with Satan's dagger?" 

"Yeah." We had a long pause. A tense one. 

"Does Lockwood and Co know about this?"

"I left them today. They don't know about this ghost attacking with Satan's dagger. It's too distracting." 

"Good. I don't want Lockwood's nosy busybody self to poke into this." 

I nodded, folding my arms. "Agreed." 

"In the meantime, I'll get one of my junior officers to scan the shelves, try and get you a few books to work this out. While that's happening, I need you to keep those three at bay." I got buzzed through my earpiece, so I held my finger to my earpiece. 

"Yeah, Laila?" 

'You have Anthony Lockwood waiting for you downstairs. Should I send him up after your meeting with Inspector Barnes?' 

"No. I don't want to talk to him." I heard vague chatter, before she spoke again.

'He insists. Should I still refuse?' 

Why the heck is he so stubborn?! "Send him up only after Barnes is safely out." I turned back to Barnes, "Lockwood's in the lobby. I have an impromptu meeting with him in about a minute or two." I checked my watch, opening a drawer and hiding the papers. "In short, I'll prevent them from knowing, you stop harking at Lockwood to fire Lucy, you give me books in and return I supply money for DEPRAC." I smirked. "I know I already was, but it seems like a fair exchange, eh?" 

Barnes chuckled lowly, nodding. "One thing about you that I've realised recently, Miss Hernandez, is that when it comes down to it, you are a tough customer." 

"Wasn't I always?" 

"Yes, but for some stupid reason I'm realising that now. You're a force to be reckoned with, Miss Hernandez. This unidentified ghost should be scared of you." He nodded before leaving through the lift, so I lifted my hand to my earpiece. 

"Send him up." I sat down on my chair, propping my legs up on the table. My arms were folded elegantly, staring right at the point where I knew Lockwood would emerge from. 

"Miss Hernandez?" Laila called. "It's Mr Lockwood." 

"Send him in." Lockwood trudged awkwardly out from behind the display wall beside the elevator, looking extra guilty, until he saw how I was sat. 

"Why does that look incredibly rehearsed?" He mused, looking up and down at my setup. I smirked, relishing the confusion in his eyes. 

"That's because it is." I stared at him blankly, "So, Mr Lockwood, how may I help you?" 

"Don't act like you don't know me well." He said, shaking his head. "I just... I..."

"You what?" I swung my legs off the table nimbly, getting up. 

"I... I don't really know how to say it-" 

"Just say it." I sneered, slowly strutting forward. Slowly, but dangerously. 

"Like I said, I don't know how-"

"It's easy enough." He took a step backwards, looking a little threatened. "Just say it." 

"I-" 

"You wanna know why you can't say it?!" I raised my voice a little, pure fury filling my veins and tingling my cells till my very core was burning with a violet flame, my anger expelling more of itself from my body. I was a ticking time bomb, and this seemed like the time I was ready to explode. "Because Anthony John Lockwood can't make any mistakes! He finds someone associated with him to blame when something goes wrong and he tears their life down bit by bit then builds up another brick wall reinforced with tungsten so they can't get through! And guess who you've done that to?! Me! So if you're going to apologise, apologise for everything you've done to me!" I finished my rant, breathing heavily and still fuming as if my heart was on fire.

All I got from him was silence. 

"Apologise." I ordered, stepping forward. "Apologise!" I stepped forward again, seeing his hand twitch towards his rapier. Good, he's scared. "APOLOGISE!" 

"I'M SORRY!" He yelled almost immediately after, snapping under the pressure of my screaming. Those were the only two words I wanted to hear from his mouth for two years. I wonder why it took so long. 

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"Arty, are you ok?" Lockwood asked, hoisting himself onto his knees on the cold marble floor of the church. I was lying on the ground, barely saved by Lockwood from an unexpected attack from a Type 3. “That was close.” 

“I’m alright.” I stood up, picking up my rapier and holding it tight. “Where d’you suppose it went?” 

“I don’t know, it just… vanished.” I turned to the side, spotting it flying towards us, so I shoved Lockwood out of the way and timely swung my blade, the metal passing right through it and making it scream in pain. “Nice one!” 

“No time for amenities! Get the chain and a flare.” He ran over to the bag, desperately rifling through it. “Hurry up!” 

“Sod off, I’m trying!” I was blasted back by a powerful surge of energy, hitting the wall and feeling dizzy from the impact, but I reached for the vial of Greek fire in my pocket. 

“LOCKWOOD!” I screamed, “NOW’S NOT THE TIME TO SLACK!” 

“It’s buried somewhere in here-“ I had no choice, being centimetres away from being ghost touched, so I opened and flung the vial of Greek fire at the Type 3, diving out of the way just in time. It screeched, trying to fight off the lethal substance, but then I pulled out something Lockwood didn’t expect me to use. 

“A satanic containment vessel? But that’s off book!” He protested.

“And a safe way to contain a Type 3. I got it from my dad’s old library.” The vessel was a small hexagonal box with the symbol of Satan on the top, and as it came face to face with the ghost in agony, the symbol glowed and within a second, the box turned black and the symbol red. I breathed heavily, shaken from almost experiencing death yet again. Taking out my knife, I unscrewed a painting and started breaking down a small hole in the church’s wall, hiding the box inside before bricking it up again and securing the painting again. 

“Arty, talk to me.” I walked over to the bag, took one second to search through it, and there it was. The flare and chains. I grabbed them and held them up, seeing red. 

“Arty-“ 

“Don’t you dare call me Arty, Lockwood. You put our lives in danger!” He flared up too, immediately rushing to his own aid. 

“Me?! If you’d given me some more time-“ 

“Time?! When a powerful Type 3 was trying to kill your partner? I would’ve been with you in a second but you, you just took your sweet time.” 

“Me? I did everything perfectly!” 

“YOU PUT OUR LIVES IN DANGER! AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO BLAME IT ON ME!” 

“I WOULDN’T FALSELY ACCUSE SOMEONE! WHAT KIND OF PERSON DO YOU TAKE ME FOR?!” 

“CLEARLY SOMEONE WHO ONLY THINKS ABOUT THEMSELVES!” He breathed in and out, trying to regain his composure.

“Take that back.” He quietly ordered, brown eyes furious.

“I won’t take back the truth, Lockwood. You’re an arrogant, selfish narcissist.” I spat. “And I’m surprised I didn’t notice that sooner.” 

“I’m nothing like you. Painted yourself a glorified hero, when in truth you’re nothing without your rich family and your weapons. Take those away and what are you?” He sneered, making me lose my patience. I dropped my weapons, swung a leg around his shoulder, leant forward and performed a swift takedown, then I got up and stamped on his rapier, breaking it cleanly in two. 

“A better person.” I replied, holding back tears by digging my nails into my palm. “Kipps was right. I never should’ve let you in.” I picked up my rapier and flares, kicking down the door and leaving a coughing Lockwood on the floor, prepared to take my revenge. 

By ending up as the most influential person on the planet.

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“I am sorry that I blamed the Type 3 on you. I am sorry that I made your life miserable every day for something that wasn’t even your fault. I am sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. I am sorry for insulting something that meant a lot to you. But the thing I’m most sorry about…” He took a deep breath, “is that I let you leave that church without apologising myself. It takes me so long to realise my mistakes and this time it went too far. I broke you, and you built yourself up into someone I couldn’t recognise and that is all my fault.” He continued talking, but I couldn’t hear him due to a ringing building up in my head, pressing painfully on my thoughts. There was nothing outside the glass windows that acted as the exterior walls of my office, nothing inside. 

Then what was it? 

I spotted a shadowy figure standing on the rooftop opposite, and instantly the ringing became louder and more painful. My hands flew to my head, my chest rising and falling rapidly and my vision blurring. 

“Miss Hernandez?” Even Lockwood’s voice was muffled, the pressure building and collapsing like the weight of 1000 tons was held up by a toothpick, and as that weight fell on my head, so did I, but someone caught me. “I’m here, Miss Hernandez, what’s going on?” 

“Emergency button…” I whispered, barely finding the energy to speak, “desk… press it…” I felt my body rest on something soft, and thirty seconds later someone rushed in, and I blacked out as I lost all the strength that was put into keeping me awake. 

I gasped for air, my eyes flying open. I felt my forehead, neck and checked my hands, and then looked at myself up and down and found that I was covered in a shock blanket. 

“She’s awake.” Laila approached me, using a scanner to check my temperature. “How are you feeling, Miss Hernandez?” 

“Much better, thank you, Laila.” I breathed in reply, trying to recollect the events, for it was all so blurry. “What happened?" 

"Mr Lockwood said you were crying out in pain and then collapsed. However you were awake enough to tell him to press the emergency button, and it's good that he did. Do you have any idea what happened?" 

"I do." I answered. "I can't tell him, though." 

"He was worried sick for you. I think you should tell him. You never know, he could help you." She took her clipboard and went to talk to Lockwood, who ran straight for me right as I was getting up from the sofa. 

"Miss Hernandez!" He gasped. "Are you ok?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think. Y'all can clear out, by the way." I waved my hand at the medics in the room plus Laila, who all filtered out.

"Something happened to you and I don't think we can pass it off as nothing. You were gasping for breath, as if someone had slit your throat and your hands went to your neck at some point." Lockwood rambled, looking calm but he was freaking out inwardly. It was radiating off of him. 

"I'd already discussed with Barnes to not tell you, but I think I should." I went in my drawers and took out the papers filled with sketches. "Before the attack on my family, my talent was touch. But after it... I had all three. I could see death glows, hear visitors, wraiths, everything and what I touched I could examine perfectly. Then it turned to psychic connections not only with the dead, but with the living. If I tune in properly, I can hear what others are thinking, and it was cool until..." 

"Until...?" 

"I met Annabel Ward." I panted, the rant taking away my breath. My fingers started clicking as I paced, my natural reflex when I got overly nervous. "She spoke to me, begged me to help her and so I told her that I would. And there's one last thing." I ran my hand through my hair, handing the papers to Lockwood. "This... is following me. Not just in real life. It appears in my dreams, my memories, and it always has a fixation on slitting my throat with-"

"Satan's dagger." Lockwood interrupted, thumb rubbing over the drawing of it on the paper. "Do you have a classification for this?" 

"Type 4s are theorised to have some vague and weak connection to the devil. This one transcends the category of Type 3 and is able to hold the most dangerous relic to ever exist. This isn't even a Type 4. This thing that's chasing me? It has a direct connection to Satan. It's a Type 5." 

"Oh, Jesus." Lockwood freaked out, running a hand through his hair as well. "How are we going to stop this?" 

"I don't know."

"Well, we'll figure out a way to fix this, Miss Hernandez, I promise." He smiled, something genuine and not spiteful. 

"Call me Artemis." I swiftly said in reply, bringing a grin to his face. 

"Artemis." He whispered, but I caught it.

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Are you kidding me?! 

I watched in outrage as Lucy and I's names were splashed as the superstars of the case. I never said no, but Lucy did. And Lockwood just double crossed her. 

Lucy switched off the TV, furious. "I told you to leave me out of it " 

"And I told you I'd handle it. What are you so worked up for? It's all true." Lockwood answered flippantly and nonchalantly, making my blood boil. We're on better terms, but he still sometimes annoys me.

"We haven't even solved the case yet." Lucy protested. 

"You just dangled Lucy and I out as bait. What if we're now on Hugo Blake's target list?" I snapped. 

"Well then, we'll look after you two, Arty. You two are our biggest assets." My head whipped round to face him so fast even George backed off, and he wasn't even the target. 

"Asset?! Is that all we are to you? A money making machine that you can just make some dough off of and leave us on the side of the road?" I scolded. "You must be laughing your head off inside right now because of how stupid I was to trust you yet again." My trust in him was as thin as ice, and even a tap that's just too hard could break it completely. And Lockwood was tapping too hard. "You're the same as you always were, only interested in your benefit." Lucy and I ran out of the room, slamming the door. I went upstairs while Lucy traipsed to the basement, and I collapsed on my bed, pulling out my phone and going to voicemail, playing the one on the top of the list. 

'Hey, Arty.' I heard my dad's voice through the speaker, and god was it relaxing. 'I came to your showcase today. You were absolutely brilliant. All I could think when I saw you was: That's my little shooting star. That's my girl. And I am so proud to be your father. Keep shining for me, Dad.'  

I played the next one, leaning my head against my banister and just listening to my dad's voice, remembering him and picturing him saying that face to face with me. 'Hey, my little shooting star. I was driving to work today and they played our song on the radio. When I get home, we're going to play it together, just like we always do. Love, Dad.'

'Hey, my shooting star. I'm so sorry for what happened today. I love you so much, you know that? I'd do anything for you. Heck, I'd even give my life for you. Just... forgive me, please? Love, Dad.'

'Hey, Arty. I got the call from your mother and I'm coming straight there, just hang in there for me.' I'd been hit by a car that day. The first person that I saw when I opened my eyes was my dad. He was the world to me, and now he's gone. I listened to multiple more, until I got to the last one he sent me, ten minutes before he was attacked. 

'Hey, my little shooting star.' I heard a pause, 'Well, not so little anymore. I want you to know that your mother and I love you very much, and you'll be such an amazing person when you become an adult and you choose what you want to do and I know you'll follow it with your heart's passion. I... I can't believe your mother and I will miss all of that. Something bad will happen today, sweetheart, and if we don't come out of it alive, then stay strong for us. The world needs a person like you. I love you, Artemis, and if you're listening to this, just know that even when we're gone, we're always with you.' 

He knew.

They knew.

My parents knew that they'd die that day... and they did nothing to prevent it. 

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"You'll be alright." I had been called by Barnes, and as an associate of Lockwood, he came with me. When we spotted Wade and Barnes approaching us, we both stood up. 

"You can rest, Lockwood, it's Miss Hernandez we need." 

"No, because there's nothing you can say to Miss Hernandez- Artemis... that you can't say to me." Lockwood refused defiantly.

"Wait here or you can wait in the cells." I went upstairs with them both, being led into a small room with a two-sided window made of ballistic glass. 

"You and your friends claim that Hugo Blake murdered Annabel Ward, yes?" Barnes asked, guiding me to the chair. 

"Correct." 

"Blake is on the other side of that door. Use your connection to Annabel to get the truth. Expose him as the murderer." I could suddenly see him, but I turned to Barnes. 

"That isn't how it works."

"Channel her. I know you have the power to do it."

"No, I actually can't!"

"Where's those extraordinary powers everyone's been talking about?" The talking and pressure was getting overwhelming, the thoughts of Hugo, Barnes and Wade mixing together into one until I couldn't distinguish them all separately. I looked briefly towards Hugo, but he flickered and for a split second I saw the Type 5, writing something with blood on the window. 

Y

O

U

'

R

E

N

E

X

T

YOU'RE NEXT.

I cried out, slamming the button and unaware that Barnes had been talking this entire time. I stood up, regaining my composure and straightening my suit. "I hope that was a suitable waste of our time. Did it satisfy you?"

"This isn't the moment for pleasantries. Hugo Blake has friends in high places and he has some very good lawyers. I can't hold him for long." I turned to leave, but not before having the final word. 

"Well, Barnes, so do I." I left the room in a hurry, trying to reach the exit as quickly as possible with Lockwood following and calling a taxi. We both got in, and I started to feel my fingers click again, the sound gradually calming me down. But gradually wasn't enough. I wanted to end this. 

"Stop the car." When the car screeched to a halt, I got out and started walking away to who knows where. My feet were just taking me places. 

"What are you doing?!" Lockwood yelled.

"Leaving!" I burst.

"Can we talk about this in the car?! It's far too dangerous out here!"

"There's nothing to talk about. After all, I'm just an asset to you." I spat.

"It's not like that-"

"Yes it is." We both stopped, and again I felt like I was in a cathartic moment, but it still wasn't enough.

"I said I'm sorry about that." 

"No you didn't!" I shrieked. "You clearly don't know anything about me anymore, but that doesn't matter. Whatever gets you on TV or the front page of the newspaper."

"Again, I said I'm sorry." 

"Again, no you haven't." 

"Well, I am. And I'm the one who tried to stop this before it got too dangerous."

"Which shows how little you know!" I retorted. "I can't do this, I really can't. I was just used by Barnes and I saw that Type 5 writing in blood, and I had a hunch that it was meant to be mine. You may be able to turn your emotions on and off like a tap but I am drowning, Lockwood, and I can't just swim out of it so right now I'm kind of thinking that everything would be better if I was gone." I ranted, tears falling down my face.

"I know how that feels." Lockwood reassured. "And we need you. I need you here, with us, because you're Artemis fricking Hernandez, you're like the biggest power figure of the century, if not, the biggest in history. We can't let you go, no matter who or what tries to take you away I will drag you back personally." 

"Barnes will shut you down." I warned. "Lucy's illegal." 

"That's why I was on TV. To show Barnes up and say to hell with the rules. If they can bend them, we can change them."

"But we're nobodies."

"We're not. It's Lockwood and Co and they're in links with the biggest ghost protection company in the world." He grinned sadly, "Just please stay." 

"Just never lie to me again. Swear it." I pleaded.

"I'll never lie to you again. I swear." He took out a flare lamp and lit it, waving it in the air. 

"What's that for? A kind of new Boy Scout agent's swearing thing you learnt?" 

"Nope, there's five shades and three lurkers closing in on us. To be fair, we are in the most haunted part of London."

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 We approached the front door to Lockwood's house, and when I tried opening the door, it was bolted. From the inside. 

"We have a problem." I called. "It's bolted from the inside. What if Blake came after all?" 

"Through here." Lockwood opened a window, so we climbed through and spotted someone in full black and a full coverage mask. "You find George and Lucy, I'll hold him off. Get back to me when you're done." He turned to the robber, "Can I offer you a cup of tea while you ransack my house? One lump or two?" As soon as he threw the flashlight I ran to the basement, finding Lucy and George having a muffled argument. 

"This isn't the time, guys. When I untie you, get to a safe place. Lockwood and I will deal with it." I used my pocketknife to cut their bonds, yanking out my rapier and running upstairs, parrying a well timed lunge and brutally slashing the robber's stomach, hand flying to the wound to prevent blood spillage, which forced them to jump out of the window and run. 

"D'you guys have any idea what they were after?" I asked Lucy while George and Lockwood came up with conspiracy theories. 

"Yeah." She replied. "The ring. And looks like they got it too." We went downstairs, but I fiddled with the chain around my neck as we did so. The box was empty, causing disdain to everyone. 

"This ruins everything." George sulked, but when Lockwood saw me, he got annoyed. 

"Why are you making that face?" Then the truth dawned on him. "That's your 'I know something you don't' face. You didn't..." I pulled the necklace out and showed them the ring inside, grinning like crazy. 

"You maniac!" 

"You brilliant maniac!"

TAGLIST:

@superpositvecloudshipper @courtneyraeblogs1221 @danis-stuff-is-here

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Drinks and kisses

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: Four times you drunkenly confessed your love to Lockwood and one time you did it sober.

Warnings: alcohol consumption (OC is not an alcoholic, she just can't tolerate alcohol), English is not my native language

Word Count: 2,6k

For the story I used some of the Drunken Love Confessions from @creativepromptsforwriting, please check out her blog

Living the life of an agent aka child solider was most of the time gruesome. After dusk as the adults hid behind silver fences and thick walls, you and the other kids dared to venture into the dark night to fight against ghosts. Every agent knew another who had died on a mission. Life was pretty depressing if you didn’t take it in your own hands to enjoy it. Therefore, at Lockwood and Co., you celebrated every so little milestone and achievement. While Lockwood, your boss, landlord and crush, and George sometimes drank beer, you only drank alcohol at you little celebrations. To say that you could handle your liquor, was an exaggerated lie.

The first time you told Lockwood, that you liked him more than a friend was at one of this so-called parties. Lockwood and Co. had just finished a big case. That was reason enough to get together and drink.

It was already late that night, the song on the radio floated through the room and Kipps was asleep on the couch. Lucy was nowhere to be seen and George and Holly were in one corner of the living room lively talking about cooking.

However, you only had eyes for Lockwood sitting in his favourite armchair. His hair was shining so nicely, and you really wanted to touch it. Would it feel under your fingers as soft as it looked? That thought should have been warning enough that you were drunk. But drunk-you wasn’t smart and neither discreet with your staring. Everybody who took one second to watch you with Lockwood, would realize that you liked him. Thank God Lockwood was an even bigger idiot than you.

“What are you thinking about, sweets?”, broke Lockwood the silence between you two and normally, caught in your staring, you would have looked away. But normal-you and drunk-you were two totally different persons. Drunk-you was loud and bold, while normal-you shied away.

“About you”, you declared honest, and sober you would have never said something like this. However, drunk you didn’t even blush.

“About me?”, echoed Lockwood confused and reminded you by doing so of a puppy. You loved puppies.

“You’re cute. And a bit blurry. But definitely always so cute.” The words just tumbled out of your mouth. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't have been able to stop them. But drunk-you didn’t know something like regret. Before Lockwood could say anything, you took a page out of Kipps books and just felt asleep.

The next morning you had no memory about what you said. At breakfast Lockwood acted like always except his ears turned a little red when you asked him for the butter. But you were too hungover to pay attention.             

The second time happened at Lucy’s birthday party. The birthday girl and you were dancing in the middle of the living room, downing one shot after the other. You intentionally ignored Lockwood, who warned you to slow down. Maybe that was a mistake. Or the five tequila shots were a mistake. Or both were a mistake.

Anyway, one moment you were dancing with Lucy, having the best time of your life and in the next moment you felt awful. Pressing your hand over your mouth you made a beeline for the next bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet before you threw up.

Hurrying footsteps sounded behind you and then someone held your hair back. With a small whimper you puked again.

“Just let it out then you’ll feel better”, he whispered softly while he caressed your back. Sober-you would probably have sunk into the floor in shame. But hanging over the toilet bowl you were too drunk to care.

You didn’t know how long you puked your soul out of your body. Lockwood had taken a seat on the floor behind you and didn’t stop rubbing your back.

“Can you keep a secret?”, you slurred and rested your head against his shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him nodding.

“I have a crush on Lockwood, but you can’t tell him or anybody else.” He laughed, and you could feel the vibration of his chest.

“I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back.”

“But you can’t tell him or anybody else”, you repeated urgent. You couldn’t imagine that Lockwood liked you back, and you didn’t want to make the atmosphere in the house awkward. Therefore, Lockwood was never allowed to know how you felt about him.

“I swear, let’s get you cleaned up and in your bed, sweets.” Fishing a washcloth from the sink, he gently wiped your face. Then he scoped you up in his arms and started carrying to your room.

The third time: Bright giggles echoed across the attic.

“No-no-no it wasn’t like this”, Lucy laughed while taking another sip from the vodka.

You just returned from your case to a waiting Norrie. Norrie was Lucy’s girlfriend and was visiting her in London. As you had stumbled through the front door, Norrie had already handed you a bottle of vodka. Now sitting in the attic, you slowly nursed the alcohol.

“And how did it go in your opinion?”, asked Norrie, who was telling an embarrassing story about the time Lucy and her had still worked in the northern part of Great Britain.

“First it wasn’t so embarrassing how you make it sound.”

“Sure”, you butted in as you and Norrie shared a meaningful glance.

“Don’t join forces against me”, Lucy demanded, not blind to your actions.

“We would never!”, giving her an appeasing kiss, Norrie took the bottle from Lucy.

“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” maybe a little bit paranoid, maybe appropriately paranoid, Lucy raised one eyebrow. You meanwhile tried to look as innocent as possible. Of course, you would join forces with your best friend’s girlfriend against said best friend. Where else was the fun?

Seeing through your innocent act, Lucy pointed accusing her finger at you. “As punishment you have to get the snacks from downstairs.”

Rolling your eyes, you stole the bottle out of Norrie’s grip and took a big sip. Leave it to Lucy to find an excuse to not go down all the stairs. But it was OK, as long George and Lockwood were still not home from their case. If George caught you stealing the snacks, he would demand that Lockwood would revoke your biscuits rights. So, there was a big risk associated with getting the snacks. Was it a risk worth taking? Drunk-you said yes.

“I will be right back”, with a wink to the girls, you picked yourself up.

You noticed immediately that you were drunker, than you had thought. Your steps were a little wobbly and the world was turning more than usually. But you lived more than two years in this house. You knew which floorboard creaked and how many steps each of the stairs had. With your eyes closed, you would find your way from the attic down to the kitchen. So being drunk shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

You should be right for most of the way. You already reached the last stairs down to the kitchen without tripping over your own feet, when the front door flew open, and Lockwood and George came clattering in. Normally you weren’t easily startled. You were an agent for gods’ sake. But you were drunk and hadn't expected their loud arrival.

You weren’t sure who was more surprised. You, who lost your footing and tumbled down the stairs, or Lockwood, who was standing at the bottom of said stairs. At least he wasn’t drunk and therefore had quicker reflexes than you. Instead of stepping aside and leaving you to your fate, he caught you. For a moment nobody said something, there was only a shocked silence between you.

“I think I just fell in love with you”, you drunkenly joked.

“No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor, sweets”, Lockwood told you stern, without letting go of you. But you saw the creeping blush appear on his face.

“I get her a glass of water”, clearing awkwardly his throat, George rushed to the kitchen.

“You drive me out of my mind, sweets”, whispered Lockwood against your hair, but you were too busy getting lost in his scent. He smelled of lavender and bergamot. Your favourite smell in the whole world.

The fourth time you told Lockwood, that you loved him you were drunk, shocking you know.

You just came home from evening with your old friends from Rothwell and as always, you easily became too drunk.

Usually when someone of the team went out after dark, Lockwood waited for them to come home. This time was no different.

As you drunkenly stumbled out of the night cab, Lockwood was already opening the front door.

“Hi handsome”, you greeted him without shame.

“You’re drunk”, he blandly stated, but his eyes were sparkling like someone stole the stars from the sky and hide them there. He had beautiful eyes. You could spend hours gazing in his eyes.

“Yes”, you admitted before a wide grin took over your face, “and hopelessly in love with you!”

Pushing past him, you stumbled into the hallway. Behind you, you could hear Lockwood taking a surprise inhale. However, you were already busy with your next task, taking off your shoes without falling over.

“Say that again after two coffees at least and I will be yours”, he whispered barely for you to hear.

Then he rushed to you, “Sweets, let me help.”

Getting on his knees he carefully unclasped your shoes. Where his hands touched your bare skin, it felt like you were burning.

“We should get you some water.” That sounded like a really good idea. Allowing Lockwood to take your hand, you let him pull you into the kitchen.

“I hoped you had a great evening”, he carefully led you to your chair before he went to the sink and got you a glass of water.

“It was sooo great, only you were missing!”

“Maybe then I join next time”, Lockwood mused taking a seat in front of you.

“You should, my friends really want to meet the person, who stole me away from Rothwell.”

“And I would steal you again, sweets. A shame that you will not remember this talk tomorrow.”

The one time you told him what you felt while being sober:

It had been a nerve-wracking case. You felt like a wrack when you finally reached Portland Row. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong, and you were lucky that all four of you were still alive. Stressed you all went separated ways. While Lucy rushed to the attic, you scored the first shower to remove the remains of salt and sweat that stuck to you like a second skin.

When you return to the kitchen after the shower to get a glass of water, you expected to find it deserted. After a case like this the team usually retreated to each of their own room to lick their metaphorical wounds in peace. You were no exception. Therefore, you were even more surprised when you saw the light shining from under the closed kitchen door.

Not bothering to knock you entered the room, to see Lockwood sitting at the kitchen table, in front of him the open first aid kit. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, and you couldn’t help gaping. Slowly blood was seeping out of a large wound, you didn’t know about. Caught, he looked up when you entered.

“That’s not what it’s looked like.”

“So, you didn't hide from us that you were injured?”

Not waiting for his answer, you could lie to yourself, you pressed a compress on his wound to stop the bleeding. As reaction Lockwood just took a sharp inhale and a little part of you were glad, that it hurt.

“We are a team; we can’t help you if you don’t let us”, you started to lecture him. But as Lockwood looked down ashamed your anger vanished into thin air. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I will always worry about you”, you paused for a moment, not sure if you should really say what just popped up in your mind. But then you gathered all your courage and did it, “I will always worry about you because I love you.”

Your heart was beating like crazy, while you waited for a response. But now it was out and nothing you could do could undo it. That was somehow liberating.

“I know.”

On the list of the worst reactions after a declaration of love, “I know” was at the top. You didn't know whether to cry or to scream. However, in the end you couldn't do either. You could just stare at him while your mouth dropped open.

“You know?”, you echoed and could feel how something in your chest broke into two parts. He knew that you loved him and never said something. That could only mean one thing, he didn’t feel the same way you did. Shame slowly crept into your face.

“You already told me one, two, or maybe four times”, Lockwood explained to you and if it were up to you, he would have simply remained silent. He didn't have to try to reject you nicely, what he said was already enough for you. Standing up so quickly that your chair flew over, you tried to escape from the kitchen, but grasping your wrist, he stopped you.

“You already told me, that you love me, but there was never a good moment to reveal to you, that I love you too.” In total disbelief you gasped at him. He must be joking. Couldn’t he have told you this sooner instead of sending you on this rollercoaster of emotions?

“You love me too?”, you echoed and slowly started to feel like a parrot.

“Yes, I love you, sweets.”

“Why couldn't you say that right away?” Technically, you should be floating from happiness that he reciprocated your feelings. But you were just angry. Before Lockwood could answer you, you continued, “and when did I tell you that I love you before?” No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember it.

“You told me this four times when you were really drunk.”

“And you never thought to talk to me about it the next day?” Flabbergasted you shook your head. You just couldn’t believe it.

“I wasn’t sure if you really meant it and I didn’t want to embarrass you either.”

Up in the hallway, George discreetly listened to the loud voices.

“Didn’t she just tell him that she loves him?”, Lucy asked, also attracted by the noise.

“Yes.”

“But why are they yelling? Shouldn’t they be kissing or something like that?”, confused Lucy wrinkled her nose. Taking his eyes off the closed kitchen door, George looked at her.

“In response to her confession he said, “I know””

“What an idiot!”

“But an idiot in love, it seems.”

Back in the kitchen your chest rose and fell angrily. Still, you couldn’t believe that he had been aware that you liked him, and never acted on it while also being in love with you.

“You are an idiot, Anthony Lockwood.”

The biggest idiot you knew.

“But hopefully your idiot?”

Instead of answering, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, softly at first but with growing intensity. When you separated you felt dizzy.

“Yes, you are my idiot.”